By Barry Wicks. Photos by John Gibson/Gibson Pictures.
From Dirt Rag: When I first started racing bikes, my mom used to drive me to races in her blue Dodge minivan. My bike, my most prized possession, would be carefully tucked into the back seat, protected from scratches and the elements. We would listen to the alt-rock station or NPR when the signal was strong enough, the sounds of “Car Talk” or the Smashing Pumpkins becoming the soundtrack to life. Not much has changed, really.
Today, my friend and Kona Endurance teammate Kris Sneddon reaches a hand through the spokes and tugs at the wheel strap, trying to figure out how to secure our bikes to his new bike rack. His Jeep idles in the parking lot of a Days Inn, AC cranked, waiting to take us into the mountains as we sweat in the mid-August heat, struggling to make sure our bikes don’t fall off, AC/DC trickling weakly from an inadequate sound system. Read more