The Radavist

Leave it On the Road’s 2015 Crush the Coast Charity Ride
Words by Michael Tabtabai

Ride from the heart and anything is possible. In mid October a crew of seven riders departed Portland and headed for San Francisco on a quest to ride bikes, take photos, and raise money to fight cancer. Through the rolling hills of Oregon wine country, down the foggy coast, through the Redwoods and down the golden rollers beyond Mendocino. We were a little nervous about the weather, as this was the time of year where the wind shifts and the rains roll in. But we got lucky – just enough rain and fog to make it interesting and more than enough sun to keep spirits high. To live the life of a cyclist, that is, 100% of your days truly devoted to the sport, the preparation and the recovery, is an awesome thing. And it is even better when you get to help raise over $25k for a great cause – City of Hope. When we arrived in SF three riders continued on to Los Angeles, knocking out nearly 1400 miles in 14 days.

This was the third major Leave It On The Road ride, and we called it #crushthecoast.

First Time’s a Charm at the Steamboat Ralleye
Photos by Ian Hylands and Kyle Kelley words by Kyle Kelley

A few months ago James Scriven from Niner Bikes reached out and asked me to go on a bike ride with him. I agreed as soon as he asked and only afterwards began to understand what I had signed up for. As the details trickled in I found out that I wouldn’t be riding my own bike, but instead would be on a Special Edition Niner RLT. The bike would be auctioned off after the ride to benefit the International Mountain Bike Association. I wouldn’t even be using my own gear. The bike would be equipped with Blackburn bags, Big Agnes was providing the camping gear and Kitsbow even made a special pair of custom jean shorts for me to wear. Side note: my signature model can be expected to appear sometime in the year 2020.

Ten years, ten hills, ten attempts at proving yourself to your peers that you’re a fast mofo. Or just an excuse to wake up at 6:30am on a Sunday to ride bikes up the steepest hills in Los Angeles with a bunch of like-minded individuals. I’ve heard of this event before. Year after year, it’s organized by Matt Ruscigno, an ex-BMXr from the NorthEast, which is where the S&M bikes reference comes from: “Feel My Legs I’m a Racer…”

The human condition of putting oneself through excruciating pain for personal betterment is something that Matt taps into with Feel My Legs. You don’t have to win the day’s ten climbs to feel a sense of accomplishment. In fact, for many of the racers, just making it up Fargo Street (the steepest residential street in California) was enough.

My morning began with coffee and a scone. Ok, two scones. Then I hopped on my touring bike, loaded up my camera equipment and went to the start of the event. I could only tag along for the first five climbs but I pretty good grasp on the event…

Look. I’m not a super über tech geek. I don’t really care about stiffness or compliance in terms of data or coefficients but I do like riding bikes and developing stories about them, in terms of my personal experiences. When Argonaut and Chris King asked if I wanted to come along for a very informal launch of a new bottom bracket standard, I had a few questions:
-Do we need another BB standard?
-Where is this launch?
-Will there be booze?

Two out of the three answers met my standards, so I agreed.

Being able to get in a good ride before the workday begins is one of the many perks of living in a city that’s embraced by mountains. Simply look at a map and seek out squiggly lines. Pack up your bike, add snacks, water, a jacket and head out just before sunrise. These days, the day’s light is fleeting, so the earlier the better.

Last Friday a few of us wanted to ride Mt. Lukens, a 5,000ish foot tall dirt road climb. While it’s not as big as Disappointment or Wilson, its adjacency to the beginning of the Angeles National Forest along the 2 makes it for a perfect out and back ride.

NOAA predicts this year’s El Niño will be one for the record books. While Los Angeles is in dire need of rain, it doesn’t mean our trails are happy when the sky does open its glands and weeps onto our mountains. Last week, the 5 got hit with mudslides, cars were washed away, property damaged, etc. If this is a vignette into the future, we’re in for a bloody muddy winter.

‘Cross bikes, ‘cross bikes, ‘cross bikes…

Look. I love cyclocross bikes but I was beginning to get a little Grinduro’d out. After a weekend of shooting, talking, riding and basically living bikes at the event, I wanted a recovery day. Decompression. Detachment. Whatever you want to call it. I needed a vacation. Ok, not really. I just wanted to ride mountain bikes and be out of cell reception for 24 hours.

Luckily, we were already in the midst of some incredible mountains, so it was literally a no-brainer to hop on the road and book it up to Downieville. That place has always carried such a mystique for me. I’d never been before, for various reasons, but had ridden all over California so I was familiar with the terrain. But still. There’s something about that trail network that had been beckoning me for years.

It was my friend Andrea‘s birthday on Monday and she too wanted to ride there one last time before the season ended. She’s been numerous times, so it worked out perfectly. Sunday morning after Grindruo, we would leave Quincy, drive an hour or so, get to town, pass out, wake up for a morning shuttle, take it super chill, shoot photos, eat gummy worms, sip the flask and barrel along the downhill line, ending at the river…

There was one detail we were missing: bikes. ‘Drea and I were on Grinduro-ready rigs, not 6″ trail bikes.

Luckily Yuba Expeditions had rental bikes for around $100 a day. I scooped up a Ibis Mojo, Andrea got a Santa Cruz Nomad and we were good to go. Oh and tubes. Oh and I needed knee pads. Now we’re good to go.

If you can’t tell, life has been complicated over here. All last week, I was packing up my belongings, selling or giving away the excess and planning for the final move from Austin to Los Angeles. Both the emotional and physical baggage I left Austin with is now in LA, still boxed up awaiting to be opened and placed in their home.

It’s been a busy, stressful, overwhelming few days and as a cyclist, that means I can only relax by pedaling my bike, preferably with friends and on some dirt. Luckily, there’s a lot of both in my new city.

We’ve seen photos from these trails before. Cherry Canyon is like a mini-Verdugos. It’s what can be best described as a cross-country park with fireroads going up the hills and singletrack offshoots bombing down. You pedal up for about 10 minutes and rip down for 5. When you realize that a trail system is a little boring on a mountain bike, you take out your cyclocross bike and try to go as fast as possible down… If you’re still losing interest, do so at night.

Night riding is part of life as a cyclist. Especially in Fall. My buddy Jack drove over with me in the moving truck to hang in LA, so we hit up Sean from Team Dream Team to take us on a spin.

I’ve been using the Bontrager Ion700t lights for trail riding, paired with the Bluetooth switch. One on the bars and one on the helmet. 700 lumens has proven to be more than enough to illuminate the trails in a city like LA, with its excessive light pollution. Expect a more thorough review soon.

Last night, Cherry Canyon provided a great sunset and a perfect way to reduce the overpowering and crippling stress of a move. Things will pick up full speed next week… thanks for your patience.

“Il Faut Toujours Souffrir.”

That’s what’s painted on the top tube of Barry’s Stinner disc all-road frame. Roughly translating to “we must always suffer,” this saying acts as not only a motivation for Barry on rides, but as a reminder as to what cycling means to him in relation to life. Nothing good comes easy.

Barry‘s an illustrator, a typographer, a graphic designer and in Los Angeles, that means freelance. It takes a certain soul to be a freelancer in LA. You’ve got to hustle, be on your game at all times and yes, sometimes suffer the ups and downs of the creative economy. That means some weeks, months, years, you’re on your game and others you’re not. It all takes sacrifice.