Is mountain biking still cool? Is Colorado still cool?
At the beginning of July, we hopped on a plane to Crested Butte and Gunnison to answer just that. Huge thanks to Gunnison Crested Butte Tourism for bringing us out and sponsoring the video!
Produced by Jeff Kendall-Weed | Video and Edit by Logan Patrick Nelson | Photos by Savannah Wishart
Throughout our adventure, we rode an Ibis Ripmo and GT Sensor. Usually our videos are spotlighting gear, but this one’s all about the experience. We’d love to hear from you in the comments if you’d like more of this!
As always any purchases you make here through Jenson USA help support the channel with a small commission (that doesn’t cost you anything extra!).
Now, let’s dive in!
In the bike media, riders are sending it bigger than ever. Mountain bikes now have motors that allow riders to focus more on laying back for a crisp golden tan than putting out effort.
Laps used to be earned. Now, the earning is optional.
Those who wouldn’t normally pedal themselves into the backcountry are now at risk of becoming grizzly bear lunch, thanks to motorized access.
It’s kinda like hiking the Bright Angel Trail at the Grand Canyon – it seems easy to trek your way down, and then you realize that you have to climb all the way back up – the reverse of how a hiking trail usually works. In a similar sense, an eMTB gets you out into the backcountry with ease, but lo and behold… you’ve got to have enough juice to make it down the descent. And this time, that juice needs to come from you – not your bike’s motor.
And berms and flow trails dominate the popular trails charts… With all that noise around modern, bigger, and better… how does that pure, original mountain bike experience still feel?
Editor’s Note: These articles are adapted by Savannah from Jeff Kendall-Weed’s YouTube videos for riders who prefer reading over watching. They’re written in Jeff’s first-person voice to stay true to the style and storytelling of the original content.
This article is extra special, because I tagged along on this trip! Throughout the article, I’ll share my own experience (also from first person, because let’s just be confusing) — in these grayed out boxes.
We came for bikes, but did you know? Crested Butte is the wildflower capital of the world!
Growing up in Colorado, I watched the state go from reasonably inhabited, to an exploding population. Though my time exploring backcountry came after residing there, I’ve heard from others that even the backcountry is overgrown with humans. When I got the chance to tag along to Crested Butte, it was returning to Colorado through an entirely differently lens. Instead of returning to visit family, I was voyaging to a town I’ve never been to. With the guys riding bikes all day, every day, I wondered: what will I do? The question mark only appeared for a moment, remembering that my roots are grown in hiking and general exploration. I appointed myself the unofficial, self-appointed explorer of trails on two feet… and anything else that might catch my attention (like food).
Crested Butte, Day 1 | Farmers Market & Single Speed at Hartman Rocks
Day One, we took a wander through the Farmers Market, sampling local brownies (the sober kind) and gluten-free cookies (the gluten-free kind), before heading off for the highlight of the afternoon.
Crested Butte shines brightly in the spotlight, but just down the road, Gunnison holds its own — steeped in two-wheeled history, and a little more gritty.
It’s here at Hartman Rocks, where we would get the chance to meet the very dedicated single speed crew — devoted the the simplicity of the ride and inspiring me to reminisce about the purity of the sport of mountain biking.
I’m not kidding when I say I’ve wanted to ride these trails for a long time. Like, a really long time. Fifteen years ago, I was a young lad working at Ibis Cycles, full of ambition, bike grease, and questionable fashion choices. Around that time, we brought Rock and Roll Sports on as a dealer. Naturally, I poked around online to see what the Gunnison riding scene looked like — and what I found were granite slabs and chunky playgrounds that lit up my imagination.
Fast forward a few years, and there I was — dorking around on those very rocks like it was the summer of ’10 all over again. Surreal doesn’t quite cover it.
Logan and I kicked things off on the full squish bikes, bouncing around and soaking up the techy goodness.
But the main event was still ahead — we had locals to meet!
So, what do you get when you strip away all the batteries, motors, suspension, and floof? For this ride, the answer was delivered in the package of a bright Canfield Nimble 9.
The Canfield Nimble 9 is a beautiful machine. And by “machine,” I meant that in the simplest term. It rode well, though the build was a flavor that didn’t fully suit my typical riding style. The high performance titanium handlebars had me puckered several times, and a short-travel fork that kept me consistently challenged. But that sensation — riding something raw and uncomplicated — was about as close to the core of pure mountain biking as it gets.
You don’t need a motor. You don’t need 160mm of travel. You just need dirt, rock, and enough nostalgic tendencies to think a single gear is all you need.
And on that day… it was.
Over the last few years, I’ve been reviewing a ton of different bikes on my YouTube channel — and many of them are ultra modern, plastic bikes with batteries and multiple motors.
It was refreshing to cleanse the palette with a singlespeed loaner bike!
Big thanks to JT for arranging for a loaner Canfield Nimble 9. The bike is stunning to look at, and I quite enjoyed riding it!
Coming from my fully rigid Stooge, I had to tone it down a bit on the descents, as the steep head angle is a big departure from what I’m accustomed to. The flexy titanium bars also aren’t quite my flavor. But this thing was SUCH a blast to ride! And even better being purple.
Day 2 | Backcountry Alpine on Star Pass with Dave Ochs of CBMBA
If you ask anyone about Crested Butte, they’ll talk about the predictable (though still enjoyable) classics — the iconic alpine rides, weaving through high-country wildflowers on buttery ribbons of singletrack. And yeah, those trails live up to the legend. But to really ride CB? You’ve gotta call a local.
Enter Dave Ochs: Crested Butte’s (literal) poster boy for mountain biking, and the beating heart behind CBMBA — Crested Butte Mountain Bike Association. I hit him up, and we set out for a banger of a day, climbing higher than 12,000 feet (over 3650 meters) above sea level.
I want to give a big thanks to CBMBA for the incredible advocacy work they do. If you’re around the area, consider a small donation to them — anything helps keep the trails alive! Throughout my trip planning, I was a frequent user of their handy trail status webpage.
What unfolded was a trip that will live in my memory until the end of time. As quoted on our return to the car, “Sorry we are late, we were busy being epic.” Fortunately, Savannah is low maintenance and great at entertaining herself — unlike the high maintenance needs of an ebike setup.
From the moment we began driving to the trailhead, we were greeted with wildlife. The first being a race with a fox, running parallel with the truck for minutes — with a squirrel dangling from its mouth! Needless to say, we were stoked.
Up above the treeline, wildlife continued to awe. Curious — and fearless — marmots peeking around the rocks. A distant cinnamon bear reminding us who really owns this land. We filtered water from a gushing stream and kept our eyes peeled for the trail to disappear under a sea of colorful lupine.
Wildlife is always magical, but here’s what really took me by surprise: the jump lines.
Not the machine-built lips of your local bike park — no, these were subtle, sneaky little moto whoops tucked into the raw terrain. No shovel-packed sculpting. No signs. Just simple, natural features, waiting to be played with. And when you found the right line? That moment of weightlessness lands differently.
Just like the animals who call this home… the landscape transforms the art of mountain into its most feral, playful form.
Life is simple. Big country, expansive skies, massive elevation, and pure trail ecstasy (the free, legal kind).
Thank you, Dave. Riding with you was a true honor — and it’s inspiring to see what CBMBA continues to build and protect out there.
Day 3 | Rock n’ Roll Sports & Epic Alpine Trail Number 2 Shuttle
Before pedaling into our second above-treeline ride, we stopped in at Rock n’ Roll Sports for a brake bleed. I had contemplated doing it myself, with a quick stop at a closer bike shop, but realized: this was my chance to put a face, and a handshake, to a name and a voice I had heard over the phone when working at Ibis way back when.
More than fifteen years ago, we at Ibis Cycles opened Rock n’ Roll Sports as a dealer for our bikes. This planted a seed of possibility in my head. I scoured over trail maps, admiring the granite rocks making for the perfect two-wheeled playground. Over a decade later, I finally got to answer that initial invitation — and meet the man on the other end of the line!
Dave (left) is the founder of Rock n’ Roll Sports. I wasn’t sure if he’d remember me from back in the day, but sure enough, he did!
Joey (right) bled a brake for us. I would certainly recommend Rock n’ Roll to anyone nearby!
After a morning of social hour paired with bike maintenance, we set off on our backcountry shuttle, climbing up-up-up toward the uppermost road access for Epic Alpine Trail Number 2.
I usually steer clear of the crowd favorites, hence my very creative trail name. The well-trafficked trails with big names and bigger reputations are usually my style. But on this day, Logan and I figured — why not? Let’s take something popular and put our own unique twist on it.
Open minds, minimal prep, and that timeless goal: play.
Our initiation into the climb was a stream crossing, and fortunately for us, high desert means wet shoes dry quickly.
Following our quick swim, we had about 1,000 more feet of elevation to climb to get to our actual starting point. No complaints here — we passed plenty of bikers pedaling up the long forest service road, and were glad for the lift! Our sea level lungs had a bit of relief, especially considering that despite the shuttle the starting point was still nearly 11,000 feet elevation.
Alpine meadows stretched around us, similar to the pass we rode the day before — but slightly less steep. Pockets of spruce and fir pockets added some extra zesty soil — a small relief from ribbons of loose rock.
The adventure wouldn’t be complete without a couple of bike glamour shots.
Featured here at the top of Epic Alpine Trail Number 2, we have an elegantly styled Ibis Ripmo (left) and GT Sensor (right). It would have been fun to capture the bikes frolicking through a field of wildflowers, but with Crested Butte being the wildflower capital of the world (and an annual wildflower festival that we sadly missed by one week), it’s imperative to practice Leave No Trace principles and protect the natural landscape.
Some paver sections greeted us before we ducked into quaking aspen groves. Beautiful, but with beauty comes compromise — drier dirt, tighter lines, a different kind of focus required. We made up for it with reckless pulls and abandon.
Eventually, the landscape shape-shifted again. This time into a high-desert moonscape. The juxtaposition of decomposed granite to aspen to alpine created a ride as dynamic as it was entertaining. The contrast kept us guessing lines and grinning through the process.
By the end, we understood why this trail magnetizes riders. It’s not about fancy features or manicured berms, made by the insertion of man. It’s about the raw variety, the constant shift under your wheels, and the freedom to ride it your way.
Day 4 | Crested Butte Bike Park & Jason Tullous of Western Colorado University
Our last day on bikes, and we couldn’t resist checking out the self-proclaimed “Best Colorado Mountain Bike Park” (just Google it). I LOL’d at first… I’ve ridden a handful of Colorado bike parks over the years: Vail, Snowmass, Purgatory, Keystone, Winter Park… all memorable in their own ways.
It’s no small thing to claim such a title! Well, let’s just say, the title might actually be earned.
But before going full send on the bike park, I wanted to meet the high school kids participating in Western Colorado University’s annual recruitment program.
It just so happened that the school’s collegiate cycling team was hosting a week long riding camp for high school students. These kids had come from all over the country (Minnesota, Washington, Arizona, etc.) to stay in the dorms and cycle the nearby trails. And here they were pedaling their way up the bike park!
Wanting to chat with them, I jumped in for a climb up the mountain. Sure enough, I couldn’t quite keep up with these whipper snappers! I’m more than twice as old as them, and easily 50 lbs heavier than most. It sure was fun to see their enthusiasm, and youthful athleticism.
We met with Jason Tullous to get the inside scoop on what Western Colorado University was doing with a pack of eager high school riders.
Collegiate cycling holds a special place in my heart. It’s where I truly found my footing in the mountain bike world back in 2003. The friendships I made racing in those years still run deep, woven into the fabric of the cycling industry. That kind of connection doesn’t fade, and I don’t take that for granted.
Seeing these kids from across the country get a glimpse of life in Gunnison, as well as the serious investment Western Colorado puts into mountain biking, was both nostalgic and inspiring. This is how the sport grows: not just surviving, but evolving, through stoked youth, strong programs, and the kind of community that makes lifelong riders.
Logan and I wrapped up the weekend with a few laps through the bike park — Logan sending big, gapping bigger, and me keeping it classic with a few trusty wheelies. These trails are genuinely sweet. More than once I found myself wishing for a beefier bike and a little more body armor.
Sometimes, it’s funny to think this is the same sport. The bike park and the big backcountry loops come from different corners of the riding world, but both had us using many of the same fatigued muscles — and, ultimately, chasing the same feeling. Whether it’s a marked jump line or an unmarked alpine pass, there’s a universal language to the feeling of tires sliding through the dirt.
That’s the beauty of riding here.
The bike park shows us jumps complete with a skill rating, and perhaps even a landing. The backcountry trails showed us an experience we had to build for ourselves.
Both are legit. And both live side-by-side in Gunnison-Crested Butte.
Mountain biking has been part of this region’s identity for nearly five decades. Not every ride will make it into the latest online shredits, but these trails still carry the kind of purity that predates us — and you can feel it.
Huge thanks to Gunnison Crested Butte Tourism for the invite. We had an absolute blast and can’t wait to come back. And hey… did we mention we ski too?
Peace & Wheelies!
Jeff 🚴
Thanks for reading along! Stay tuned for an updated link to my main site where I’ll share my self-portrait work and hiking excursions from the perspective of exploring Crested Butte by foot, when your partner is frolicking along with wildlife on pedals.
Peace & Rucking,
Savannah 🎒
