I find the self-sufficiency of all this to be highly seductive, and—in a predominantly automobile-centric society—not insignificantly counterculture. A bike tourist is an oddity and anomaly that inherently—whether one intends to or not—questions the status quo of human transport. Bike riding is radical freedom. And a subversive act.

Click around the Crust Bikes website a bit and you’ll see CEO Matt Whitehead describe one of his frames (the ever-popular Evasion, to be specific) as “a randonneur bike on steroids, the Satanic Rando, if you will.” What?

I’m part of the panel of people who pick the FKT Of the Year (FKTOY), and as part of that process I was reminded that I actually set an FKT this year–the Longs Peak Duathlon…

I like to think that by traveling in the style I was—with acute intention, under my own power, getting up close and personal with the peaks themselves—that I was succeeding in penetrating this aura and hopefully stepping outside of that collective perception. Not only here at the Bells—though this was certainly the most obvious instance—but with the trip as a whole. But why? To feel special, I suppose, but hopefully not necessarily superior. I’m not sure; motivations and values are thorny topics…

For me, the whole point of a trip like this is to come up with an objective that challenges me. I want it to be possible, but not without some sacrifice, some grinding, some discomfort. If I’m able to cruise casually the whole way, where would the opportunity for growth come from? I didn’t want a vacation; I wanted an adventure.