In 10 years of racing gravel, I’ve never known where to fit Oklahoma. The Mid South tempted me toward Stillwater each March, but I knew the horror stories. Red mud deep enough for every letter of murder. Chains chewed. Derailleurs gargled and spat. Some springs: hypothermia. Couldn’t I just believe Oklahoma’s brutal history without sticking … More Mid South 2024: The Durability of Joy
Go for a ride or two on city streets, and gravel cycling’s appeal as a safer alternative becomes obvious pretty quickly. Much of gravel’s pull hinges on what we’re riding away from: The traffic. The noise. The rancor and danger and bullshit that come with being a human being on a bicycle in a car-centric … More A Country Welcome
Ride your bike long enough across any rural stretch of the Great Plains, and just about everything will grow personified. I’m convinced by now that my bike has strong opinions about mud. That farm dogs and cattle are capable of casual conversation. And that the dead racoon up ahead is just somebody having a slightly … More Riding with Abandon
About a month ago, I read this piece about Colin Strickland in the New Yorker. And I got my shorts in a twist. The story unpacked Strickland’s indirect role in Moriah Wilson’s murder, then spent the bulk of 8,000 words tying his hostility, dishonesty and narcissism to professional gravel racing as a whole. I wrote … More The Big Grapple: The New Yorker and Bicycling duel over gravel’s true story
If you like to read about bikes because you don’t like to read about politics, this essay might not be the one for you. Because my second trip down Utah’s White Rim Trail in Canyonlands National Park has me rethinking our precarious political moment. And I need to talk about it. I struggled on my … More Notes from the Cliff’s Edge
I haven’t written in this blog for a long while. It’s been hard for the writer in me to think much about bikes as we watch our country ride this crazy line between the world’s oldest democracy and a frightening new authoritarianism. It has often felt to me as though we’re careening down a deeply … More The Road out
I used to have this happy little theory that time on a bicycle bestowed special powers. Like some radioactive spider bite, biking could magically flatten our tummies, deepen our lungs and beef our hearts and quads. And (most significantly) biking could sharpen our eyes. Riding gravel improved our perception, I believed, by making it cool … More Bike Focals: How do we correct cycling’s vision problem?
You’ve already been told to wear your damn mask. You’ve been begged to wash your hands often and for 20 seconds a crack. Been implored to avoid crowds and keep six feet from folks outside your household. By now, you’re either doing all this stuff, or you’ve steeled yourself so far into asshole mode that … More A Friendly Gravel Public Health Announcement
As kids, we’re taught to trust that little voice in our heads that runs the brakes. That voice that says, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” That voice keeps us from getting hurt and doing wrong. But as endurance athletes, we learn there are plenty of times we need to tell that voice to … More A Fitter Norm
Holy crud, I don’t envy race directors right now. These are mostly folks with day jobs. And they’re facing super-tough choices about their events in light of a global pandemic. They put on races out of love for our sport and our community. So what does a community-loving race director do in light of all … More Mass Start Hysteria: What should race directors do about COVID-19?
Dirt Tan Bike Club 