an icon that has oddly always been missing from the Bike logo.
And inside, you’ll find less, but more. The stalwarts, like “Buzz,” “Grimy Handshake” and “Butcher Paper” remain, but we’ve slimmed down the number of different departments in order to focus on quality—prioritizing presentation and substance over fitting in a prescribed number of sections.
The gear pages also aim to go more in-depth, digging into the product development stories that happen well before a shiny new bike hits the market and dissecting trends instead of simply reporting on them. For instance, in this issue, Bike’s managing editor Will Ritchie reviews the unconventional Zerode Taniwha (page 68), and he also delves into the technology at play within the Pinion gearbox on which the Taniwha operates (page 70).
Why the changes? Because in this day of nonstop news, shrinking attention spans and society’s constant attachment to screens and addiction to mindless scrolling, we hope our loyal subscribers and the others who choose to pick up Bike want to slow down, want to spend more time freed from the relentless tug of technology and want to take the time to digest an image or a story before rushing to consume the next tidbit of information, and strive to be the kind of people who value a connection with trails and open spaces more than a connection to the internet.
In this issue, you’ll find stories written by such people—those who crave the uncertainty of venturing into ultra-remote places where the path is unpredictable and where a phone app is of no use in navigation or trail beta. Take Ben Haggar, who embraced loneliness to embark on a solo mission across the vast, empty Greenland tundra, armed with meager rations, Google Earth files and a desire to push beyond his comfort zone. Haggar documents the highs and lows of his expedition in “Shapeless Fulfillment” (page 58).
And in “No Quarter,” (page 44) writer Brice Minnigh, the former editor-in-chief of this magazine, recounts his crew’s harrowing traverse of the remote ridgelines that define British Columbia’s Purcell Mountains in pursuit of first-descent freeride lines. In addition to Minnigh’s words in this issue, you’ll also find a digital feature and film from “No Quarter” on bikemag.com, as part of our continuous endeavor to present print-quality content across all media platforms.
Even as our presentation evolves, the tenets upon which Bike were founded two-and-a-half decades ago will never change: It will always be about the ride, and most importantly, about the readers. Thank you for 25 years.