Brandon all smiles completing the SRMR for the first time on his second attempt.
Tell us about your background as a cyclist.
I came to cycling a bit late. I completed my undergraduate and grad degrees in Atlanta, Georgia in physiology, and spent those 7 years commuting all across the city on a fixed gear bike. It was my way of transport. At the time, I was a vegan of 10 years, environmentally aware and all about human powered movement. Riding was only ever a way for me to get from one place to another. So, when I finished my masters and landed a job in Seattle Washington as a strength coach for UW Football (wild I know :D),
I wasn’t quite sure how I’d get out there. I wasn’t keen on buying a car to drive, or flying, so in November 2014, I decided that when I wrapped up school in May, I’d ride my bike out to Seattle for my move. I had better get to riding! I inherited a hand-me-down Cannondale CAAD 10 from a friend who was a bike racer, mounted 23mm gatorskins and started riding more than a few miles for the first time in my life. By May, I set off on a cross-country tour to Seattle. I didn’t know how to change a flat, I didn’t bring a sleeping bag, and all I had to sleep in was a hammock. I was incredibly unprepared! I slept in 25 degrees in Yellowstone national park with nothing but my space blanket, froze my buns off in city park bathrooms and generally learned more about adventure than I ever had before. Everyday for 40 days I pedaled anywhere from 10-14 hours until I found myself in Seattle, Washington. When I arrived, I figured that now I must be a “cyclist?” From there I continued on the path of long distance riding, but started to explore other sides of the sport: did one or three local crits, a few seasons-worth of cyclocross racing, and then a few years later found myself tip toeing into mountain biking until it finally took over my time on the bike. I loved every side of pedaling, and continued my way of commuting by bike through my first Seattle winter. ouch!
How much do you ride per week?
That first year I started riding was my biggest ever — I did 15,000 miles / 950 hours. From there I’ve settled into a steady 700-800 hours of riding per year, which is something around 15 hours a week. I love riding, love time on the bike, and tend to actually ride the most in the winter months when work is a bit less hectic but the temps are more frigid!
How did you first hear about the Silk Road Mountain Race?
A good friend of mine told me about it. He is from Russia, and with no bikepacking experience thought it’d be a fun way to get closer to his home and experience it on a bike, so he asked if I wanted to go with him. Just before the first year I went, he had to drop out and I made the call to press on and do the race solo. So glad I did.
What drew you to it?
I was terrified to be honest. I rode off-road, but not massively. I had done remote rides, but not massively. This seemed to take what I had been doing for a few years and crank every element up to 11. More remote, more rugged, more challenging, and on top of that was big time altitude for a sea-level dweller. For all of those reasons, I was drawn to it. It was so terrifying. I was so stressed out in the weeks leading up to my first trip that I nearly crumbled. Between work and the fear of preparation, I was fully mentally pinned. It felt like a massive undertaking, but one that I wanted to overcome and adapt to. I didn’t want to feel pinned. I wanted to be able to handle it and the only way to get there was to go for it.
How did it compare to your Colorado trail rides?
I’ve not done SRMR since I rode the Colorado Trail twice, BUT in my mind with hind-sight I think SRMR was easier. That said, at the time I did SRMR I was so much less experienced that it all shook out the same in terms of the toll it took on my mind and body. That first year I went to SRMR, I fell apart. I was extremely sick, lost 10 pounds in 5 days, and took weeks to recover. The second year was a totally different game and I managed myself pretty well. But looking back, the riding isn’t what makes it tough. I wasn’t living at altitude, and I wasn’t used to that level of rugged terrain. After some time on the Colorado Trail, riding in Kyrgyzstan seems relatively easier. The CT is far more rugged and aggressive pedaling, and the altitude is actually higher. I have this idea that going back to SRMR would feel easier than it did last time, but I also think I’m simply benefiting from hindsight and unable to really feel the struggles I went through. The difference with SRMR is the exposure. Hands down. You’re out there longer, and the elements are brutal. The weather is harsh and fickle, and that takes a toll. In conclusion, it’s not the riding that’s the big challenge of SRMR. It’s just the experience of being “out there” that makes SRMR so mega. Just the idea of being in Colorado is easier on your mental load than being deep in the Tien shan Mountains in the middle of Kyrgyzstan!
Is the SRMR more of a gravel bike, or mountain bike race?
I’d absolutely ride an MTB over gravel bike. Both years I used a gravel bike which now feels so silly and unnecessary. A hard tail would be the ideal tool, but I’d still take a full sus over a pure gravel bike at this point in my journey. Comfort over speed in those types of events is my approach now.
Did you have a strict training plan, or just wing it ?
I don’t have a training program. Overall, I just ride to get to a place. I decide where I want to go, and design a way to get there and pedal it out. I do throw in some structure throughout the year — often in the winter months, and this year I’m adding more structure than ever before as I’ve got a full plan of XC races planned for 2023. But generally I spend time on the bike and throw in efforts when I’m riding with various people or get motivated on a certain part of a route. Many of the folks I ride with are far stronger than me, so I end up doing quite a bit of work just to hang with my friends :D Riding the mountain bike all day involves plenty of variations — technical skills, cadence variability and intensity levels. Spending lots of time on an MTB gives a nice variety of skill development.
What was the most unexpected part of that race?
I’m not sure, it all felt unexpected — I really didn’t know what to expect going into it. The people of Kyrgyzstan were super welcoming and kind. I had lots of really pleasant and memorable moments with them. I slept in a hut on the floor with a family of 10 in the middle of nowhere after they fed me dinner ( and ultimately led to my sick demise!) The racers themselves were incredible with a really welcoming sense of community. The Mountains in Kyrgyzstan feel so ominous and intimidating. I felt so insanely small and vulnerable — something I really wanted to overcome and become comfortable with.
Were you racing, or just trying to survive?
I was trying to enjoy it as much as I could. In so many ways, surviving is racing and racing is surviving. My goal was to be in a state of mind where I could take in the experience. I didn’t want to be so pinned and blasted that it wasn’t enjoyable. And I didn’t want to be so focused on the race that I couldn’t soak in what I was doing. Just that took every ounce of energy to keep myself in a frame of mind where I could look around, keep my head up and be present. I knew doing that was ¾ of the battle and if I had that down, I’d be doing alright in the “race.”
Were you happy with your result?
Totally. Very much. The first year, I couldn't do it. Sickness took me out. My lack of experience took me out. My physical abilities at the time took me out. I pushed to my limit and quite a ways beyond. All I wanted to do was return, having absorbed my learnings, improved my ability, and built a stronger mentality. My goal was to improve on my shortcomings that the first year and reach the finish in a healthy state. I did just that and enjoyed the ride all the while. So happy with that experience!
What would you do differently next time?
I’d ride a mountain bike! And I’d hopefully ride it much faster.
Did you have time to enjoy the country while racing?
Oh yeah! There were a handful of days before and after the race to enjoy the country and explore the cities. While you’re racing you experiencing the most remote parts of Kyrgyzstan from the saddle of a bike. You meet all kinds of nomadic people and see the most incredible scenery. That IS the country and the entire time you’re able to soak that in, if you allow the space for it!
Better to be a bike racer or a tourist?
For me, being a bike racer is just a medium for touring a country. It gives some foundation to planning — your route is fixed. You’ve got a big group of like minded people to enjoy it alongside. And you’ve got some added motivation to pedal hard. I love both, and it really just comes down to what your personality type is and what you want to achieve. Both have equal amount of benefit.
Were you able to plan your food or just eat what you found?
I packed food everyday. I do all dried food that I soak — but going back I’d likely travel a bit lighter on food. There were plenty of shops throughout the route, even if it wasn’t always the best option. Both years I finished with about 3-4 days of food left because I ended up eating more than planned along the way. Lots of bread, lots of snickers. You can find snickers anywhere in Kyrgyzstan.
Any suggestions for someone thinking about doing the SRMR?
Go for it. If you can make it happen within your life, you absolutely should. It’s a great event, the organization is top, and it’s probably one of the best race experiences you can have in terms of location and terrain in my opinion. That said, if you’re more keen on hotels and great food, the Italy divide would be a better option. SRMR is for those interested in a remote, wild experience!
Are you good at resupply?
Could be better! I sometimes find myself roaming around a store in circles, confused as to what my appetite demands. The past two years I’ve gotten much better. My go-to cheez-its, poptarts and paydays have really simplified my resupply. I can roll in, hammer those three items and I’m set for a while. In Kyrgyzstan it was simply how many loaves of bread and snickers can I carry?!
The Colorado trail provides a nice training ground for Brandon and his partner
What’s your super power?
I can just get on with things I think. I’m not the fastest, or the strongest, or the most dialed, but I’m good at looking after myself, making good decisions, and dealing with the circumstances. I don’t get distraught when things go wrong. Staying calm and problem solving is key. Slow down to go fast, and that’s across how quickly you move, but how quickly you react.
What’s your weak link?
Ah, I have so many! So many things I could do to improve. My weakest link though is getting out of my bivvy. I’ll snooze my alarm all day. Crawl out of my sleeping bag 1-2 hours later than planned. I love the comfort. A lot of the time I have to avoid comfort so I don’t get trapped. If I step into a warm cafe for a minute too long, there goes the next hour. I’ve got to keep myself moving as a tactic to avoid my ability to slip into a comfortable situation for far too long.
Tell us about Rapha’s upcoming Yomp Rally. Did your race experiences influence the event idea?
Totally influenced by my experiences in bike packing races. This will be our first proper, multi-day event we've introduced here in the states. A few years back we launched the Penine Rally in England which follows a similar format. Overall, my experiences in ultra races has lead to two realizations:
1. Doing a race gives a bit of a mental safety net in terms of tackling something big and challenging. You've got a load of folks out there on course with you. You're all in in together. There are people all over watching your dots. If something goes wrong, with all the "unsupported" talk out there, you still have this element of mental safety in knowing it's an event with speciation. Contrast that with just the idea of turning up to Kygyzystan to start riding around the country with no fixed route, trackers for your loved ones, other riders around you etc. Way more scary! There's this big hooplah in the US right now around "unsupported races," record rules, mental boosts from media etc. If you want to be fully off the map and un supported without mental additives, just scoot out the door and onto the course with no one else or tracker etc!!!
2. Even still, the race format is just intimidating for some. The rules — some races even say they don't want you to use your cell phone. It's just all riddled with challenges. My hope after experiencing both sides was to create an event that lets the rider dictate their experience, rather than dictating that as the event organizer. We've set a beautiful route. One of the best I could imagine up. I want to let the riders choose how they experience it, because there will be so many nuances depending on what they're hoping to extract from that ride. You know some will hammer straight through it as quickly as they can. Some won't look at their cell phone more than a few times. Some will take multiple days, enjoy themselves, find scenic camps etc. I want it to be up to the individual. And with that, we've still created that group start environment, offer the tracking etc so that you still get the safety net of a group without the rules of a race.
For myself, I still prefer to go out on my own outside of an event. I don't often do group starts. I like to get onto the trail during the time frame that works best for my life, share a tracking link with a few loved ones, and get on with the ride. But I know there are many ways we can create new environments that entice folks who may not have otherwise given it a go, and that's what I'm hoping to acheive with our first ever Rapha Yomp Rally on May 5!
