Editorial Staff

Jasper Gates (aka Dave Buchanan)
I’m a semi-serious cyclist in Edmonton, Alberta, who has a moderate, grown-up fondness for (mostly road and gravel) cycling and reading about cycling. In my day job, I teach English literature at an Edmonton university and do research on early cycle-travel literature.

I don’t race. But I do commute by bike and ride semi-seriously with my Musette pals whenever I can. I follow bike racing, but only semi-seriously. I love short-trip cycle-touring, fat-biking, winter cycling, and grinding away on dusty gravel roads.


Penn C. Reveaux

When I was a kid, I wanted a wheelie bicycle with a banana seat, a high-back sissy bar and ape handle bars like a Hell's Angel's motorcycle.  Instead, I was given a handmedown supercycle from Canadian Tire.   My older brother always got a new one, and so did my younger brother.   Ever a resourceful farm boy, I tried to turn my supercycle into the bike I imagined.  To get the sound effect, I used a wooden clothespin from the washing line and  fastened an O-Pee-Chee hockey card  to the front fork.   The faster I peddled the more my supercycle sounded like an engine.  But, to no avail, I could not get a seat nor the sissy bar.   Blah blah blah country roads  

Val Garou
Carbon fiber handlebars.  9spd road bikes.  9spd mountain bikes.  Custom frames.  Long rides.  700x38c. 26x4.00.  Chris King headsets.  External-bearing BBs.  Clipless.  Aluminum.  Titanium.  Steel.   (Chased and Faced.)  Internally Geared Hubs.  Air shocks.  Disc brakes in the dirt.  Fixed gear.  Camelbak.  Pave.  Dirt.  Mud.  Rain.  Sleet.  Snow.  Ice.  Studded tires.  Longer rides.  Deep V rims. Long-fingered gloves.  Lugs.  Welds.  Powdercoating.  Phil Wood grease.  Zone 4.  Cat nothing.  No racing.  Some bleeding.  Butted spokes. Brass nipples. Cork tape.  Tail lights.  Fenders.  Coffee.  Friends.   Let's go.