Issue 109

Dusty and flowing with heaps of drifty corners. We rolled back down to sea level before beginning the climb to Stage 4. It was super hot, maybe 35 odd degrees, and there was nowhere to hide from the sun. Still, we made it up to Stage Four which was super rocky — I nearly killed a family of three goats that were walking on the trail as I came around a corner. Definitely made for a bit of excitement!

From there, it was a shuttle followed by long pedal along the Levadas — the ancient waterways that make up the island’s irrigation system. They channel all over the island and are pretty impressive to see. By the end of the week you truly realise how many of them there are — we spent a lot of time riding along them that week, that’s for sure. I think there is over 1000km of them on the island, with 40km of tunnels too. Anyway, day one turned out to be pretty big with 65km on the bike and quite a bit of climbing too, even with all the shuttles. There were plenty of tired and hungry riders arriving back at the camp area afterwards — luckily, the food the event puts on every day is pretty good. You also get a beer each day on arrival, which is nice. This was where I was surprised, as this event isn’t so much aimed at the pro riders but more the full range of riders, offering them a chance to see the majority of the riding in Madeira in a week. Physically, it wasn’t much less than an EWS day and we still had four more days of it to go. At the same time, I was stoked too, as more racing and bigger days is something I enjoy and something I think the EWS has lost a bit in past years.

Since I don’t quite have time to outline every single day of the week, I will run over my highlights. Day two was another big one, with such a range of different trails and conditions.

We finished off with 50 odd switchback berms which made for an epic way to end the day — especially with Phil chasing me down, still on the rental bike as his never arrived! Then, day three was the one the event staff had been telling us about all week: the big hike-a-bike day. Due to the longer day, we had to be up for breakfast at 5.30am. At this point, we were definitely starting to feel the previous couple of days and, after a one hour bus ride to the top of the mountain, we were greeted with thick clouds and rain. I can say for sure no one was super keen to get out of the bus in a hurry but, luckily, after about 25 minutes of pedalling and pushing we arrived to see the clouds burning off to some of the most epic views all week at the start of the stage. It was definitely bucket list stuff. We then had two open and fast stages through some rocky and loamy stuff followed by a 40 minute climb on a road to reach a trail taking us to the first feed zone of the day. The trail down was what the locals referred to as the ‘Madeiran Massage’, as it consisted of probably 10,000 stairs, and rattled whatever wasn’t already loose on the bike, loose!

Then came the long hike. Phil and I had been pushing our bikes for about 40 minutes when we got to a sign telling us we had 11km to go to the next feed zone. It definitely didn’t excite us but, once up on the ridge, it was much better going with some amazing views of the valley around. It was also a relief to finally arrive at the feed zone and have some food — that was probably the hungriest I’d been all week. From there, we rode and pushed along a Levada and through some long, dark tunnels for a while. We were told, on the event information sheet, to bring a head torch — and now we knew why. After the two long and narrow tunnels, we arrived to a trail that two local kids at the start had told us is the best on the island. I can say they definitely weren’t wrong — it looked slippery to begin with, that kind of wet, volcanic dirt, but after two corners I realised how much grip there was and got into it. It was probably the most flowy trail all week, with all the corners banked in. It had so much grip. After that, we’d definitely forgotten the big hike to get there and I don’t think I saw anyone not smiling after that! We headed to a cool campsite below a big rock face on the coast for some much needed dinner.

The final two days kind of flew by as, after four days, the routine starts to set in, and you get used to the early starts. The nights in the tent also get easier. On day four we had a sweet campsite on a small beach; and by day five, the final day, everyone was pretty smoked. We were also stoked to make it to the end of the race and, after another solid day’s racing, we got to ditch the tents for the night and were put up in a five star hotel with a big buffet dinner and prizegiving for all the riders, which was a bloody good time. I managed to take the win over ex WC DH rider, Marcelo Gutierrez, from Colombia — not that it really mattered, it was more about the experiences we’d had along the way.

This is an event that I wouldn’t even so much label as a race, but more as an experience. I would definitely recommend it to anyone who has yet to go to Madeira, as it will show you more than you ever could see on the island without a guide, plus you get to ride/race with 100 other people all having a great time too. For me, it definitely was the best event I did in 2022 and my favourite week of riding too. It was the end to the season that I didn’t know I was looking for, but one of the best ways to finish off the year. So yeah, if you haven’t already, I would recommend adding it to the bucket list! One of the best parts is that a lot of the profits from the event are reinvested back into funding more trail building and maintenance on the island, too.

Cheers to the whole crew at Trans Madeira for an epic week!

Words by Jake Hood
Photography by Jake Hood, Cameron Mackenzie & Jay French

Can a photo be life changing? I’m not just talking about a photo that makes you go, ‘Wow that’s amazing!’, but an image that actually changes the path in which you are destined to take in life. It’s a turning point; a defining moment. Well, this is what happened to me.

Let’s turn back the clock a few years – back to when I had fewer wrinkles and a lot more hair. I was a know-it-all grom, working in a bike shop in Scotland. On my lunch break, I was flicking through a UK-based mountain bike magazine when I stopped turning the pages, captivated by this one image that caught my eye. It was a photo of a beautiful golden landscape, featuring three riders carving their way down this unbelievable bit of track that snaked its way through the orange, sun-kissed hillside. There were huge mountains in the background. The corners of the track looked like those perfect berms you only dream about, and dust clouds tailed the riders, highlighted by the evening sun. The golden orange light contrasted the dark moody hills perfectly in the background. It was such a defining photo. A photo that I needed to know more about.

‘Where is that?’ I thought. ‘I need to see this place, I need to experience it for myself! It looks like paradise.’ Well, it turned out to be Queenstown, New Zealand – or as I like to call it: Dreamstown.

A couple of years after first seeing that photo, I moved to Aotearoa New Zealand, the land of the long white cloud, and set up camp on the alpine shores of Lake Whakatipu. From the moment I stepped off the plane, I knew this place was something special. The mountain air felt dense. Jagged, craggy mountain peaks towered over the lake, while the small, sunny town below basked in the late evening sun. The energy of the town seemed to echo through the valleys. I remember getting a taxi from the airport to town and seeing the Skyline Gondola for the first time. It literally went straight up – like, vertical. How was that even possible?! How could there be trails off that hill? My mind was blown. The first summer I spent here, I experienced as many of the myriad trails as possible. I would finish work and commute home via the gondola back to Fernhill. There were just so many trails to explore and places to see. I kept having to pinch myself to remember I was really living here, in Dreamstown. This place really made an impression on me. But something weird happened after living and riding in this amazing place for a summer. I started to realise that it’s not just the landscape, town or trails that make Queenstown oh-so-special. Yeah, these aspects are amazing, but there is something else that makes this place special… I’ll come back to that later.

It would be hard not to talk about the trails whilst on the topic of Queenstown. There is such a variety, spanning the 7 Mile riding area to Arrowtown. Over a weekend, you would be lucky to just scratch the surface of the amount of riding there is. Every year, this network grows, and us Queenstown riders get better and better trails. In the past few years, the quality of new trails has skyrocketed. The driving force behind this movement are Elevate Trail Building and Dirt Tec Trails. Tom Hey from Elevate Trail Building started shaping the trails of Queenstown in 2013, with Rude Rock being one of his first builds, supported by Queenstown Mountain Bike Club (QMTBC) and and Queenstown Trails Trust (QTT). This trail was an instant classic and is now known across the world. Since then, Tom’s been shaping the dirt, rocks and roots of Queenstown into some of the finest bits of singletrack on the planet. Like an artist with his paintbrush, he has this amazing ability to build perfect bits of trail that become instant hits. Kepler Rek, local trail building legend, was working at Skyline Gondola from 2013-2015, as a lifty and running trail maintenance. In 2015 he started transforming the Queenstown Bike Park and moved up the ranks to the manager of the bike park. This is when the bike park started to transform into what it is now – up there as one of the best in the world. Before 2015, all the trails had a bit of an old-school feel about them; very fast and straight. Nothing lined up well; they were very janky, you could say. Once Kep was on the scene, he started the process of transformation. The first big shift in the park was Huck Yeah – a Queenstown Mountain Bike Club-funded jump trail in the park. This was the catalyst for the rest of the park getting rebuilt. Things got de-janked, rebuilt and realigned – and safety was also improved. It was such a shift forward, and every year things kept getting better in the park. More trails were built with more variety of terrain, including new blue and green trails, so riders of all abilities could test their limits. It was the shift the park needed and involved a more ‘new school’ way of building. It also brought the trails up to a modern, sustainable standard that improved flow whilst also leaving character. In 2017, Kep joined the Elevate Trail Building team. From that point, Tom and Kep went on to build and shape the next generation of Queenstown mountain bike trails, such as Nearly McGnarly and Hot Rod – trails that are now world-famous. Last year alone, Nearly McGnarly was ridden 75,000 times and Hot Rod was ridden 67,000 times. These are trails that work for all abilities, from beginners to the best riders in the world. It’s these types of trails that are helping get new people into the sport and giving beginners a place to improve their skills in a safe environment. For many people visiting Queenstown, Nearly McGnarly and Hot Rod are on the must-ride list – but there is so much more to be enjoyed. From flowing beech forest singletrack, like Missing Link, to Creaky Winder and steep, techy trails like Salmon Run – and everything in between. Throw some jumps into the mix, such as the world-famous Dreamtrack, Gorge Road Jump Park, and Kerry Road pump track, and you’ll find something for everyone to enjoy. Just last year, Kep went on to start his own company, Dirt Tec Trails, with Skyline taking a back seat in running the bike park. Dirt Tec Trails is now in charge of all the maintenance in the park and I have to say, the park has never been better. Dirt Tec Trails is also lending a hand to other projects around town – most recently, the new BluGazi trail. To say we are spoiled for passionate trail builders in Queenstown is an understatement. With two of New Zealand’s best trail builders living here, it’s easy to see why Queenstown, as a biking destination, is known around the world.

The other big reason Queenstown’s mountain biking scene is what it is today comes down to all the hard work put in by the QMTBC. Since forming in 2003, the club has really brought to life the vision of so many people, making Queenstown a world-famous destination for mountain biking. The amount of work these local legends get done is nothing short of a miracle – and it’s all volunteer work. There is an ever-changing group that takes the reins of this juggernaut of a club. Every year at the AGM, club members can nominate themself to become committee members for the following year. This constant change of committee members keeps the club moving forward and ensures fresh ideas come in year after year. These committee members are the true unsung heroes of the mountain biking scene in Queenstown. From trail network planning and gaining land consents, to running weekly dig nights, local jump sessions, fundraising events and getting new members on board, the work this club achieves is endless. What the club gets done is monumental but, through all this, we have this amazing thriving group of locals that just keeps growing and growing. Every year, membership numbers go up and the club receives more consent for trails; the community grows, and new trails get built. Overall, this club has been such a benefit to the Queenstown region and its community.

The network of trails that spans the basin is the artery that joins everything together all thanks to the Queenstown Trails Trusts. The QTT is responsible for the gravel trails that connect the Queenstown area together, giving access to different parts of the region without the need to ride on busy roads. The QMTBC and QTT work together to create a bigger, better network. Recent projects, like Bush Creek, a single track that has connected Coronet Peak to Arrowtown, has massively improved the famous ride, ‘Corotown’, by removing all the horrible river crossings. By using the QTT network and the QMTBC network, you can link up huge rides whilst mostly avoiding the roads. It’s flipping fantastic! And, if you’re not in the mood to ride mountain bikes but still want to get out and about, it’s easy to grab a gravel bike and smash out the k’s. With over 130km of gravel trails in the area, there is more than enough to keep you busy. For those who feel up to a big backcountry XC ride that feels kind of remote, I can’t go past recommending the Coronet XC loop that takes you around the back of Coronet Peak. These trails and networks are all possible due to the hard work QTT puts in. I’ve heard about the plans for the future and if they get the go-ahead, it’s going to make Queenstown an even more connected cycle network, which is a huge win in my books. With such a host of trails available on Queenstown’s doorstep, it’s easy to see why there are a bunch of locals doing so well on the world circuit in downhill, enduro and freeride events. The list of riders who now reside in the small alpine town during the summer months is pretty ridiculous: Eddie Masters, Matt Walker, Cole Locus, George Brannigan, Louise Ferguson, Vinny Armstrong, Jess Blewit and Robin Goomes, just to mention a few. In the lead-up to the World Cup, Enduro World Series, and Crankworx seasons, there is a whole host of teams and pros that come to town for testing and training. Line up at the Skyline Gondola in the latter half of the season and you will see everyone from Loïc Bruini to Emil Johansson lapping the park. And it’s not just the big names that are savage riders – there are so many low-key shredders in town. People that you have never even heard of, who can outride the best. There is something in the water here. People will come for a season and progress so much in that time. Being able to ride after work probably helps a lot – and I mean, literally from your office to the bike park, just two minutes out of town – but another big factor is being able to ride with people that are better than you. From trying to hold your mate’s wheel down a track while you chase him at a pace you don’t really want to ride at, to rolling up to Wynyard Bike Park for a jump session with your mates and getting spurred on by them making cool shapes while in the air — there is a culture of moving forward, of improving, taking inspiration from others, and applying it to your own riding. The progression levels of everyone seem to go up every year. It’s really a product of its own environment: with lots of variety of trails and long summer days giving you heaps of time to get out on the bike, the bike time just racks up. I will warn you though – don’t drop-in in front of the grommets, because they’ll be flying past you in no time, with more style than you could imagine. The next generation coming up are talented beyond what I can comprehend. They are so incredibly fast and stylish. It’s like they watch a YouTube video, and then just go do it — there’s no question about how they do it; they just do it. It’s so impressive and I think in the next few years we’ll see even more big names come out of this small town.

I think one of the reasons we have so many fast grommets in town is due to the Vertigo Summer Series race events. The main man behind this series is Paul Angus (a.k.a Pang), a legendary figure around Queenstown. Co-owner of Vertigo Bikes, and sometimes known as the ‘Huck Wizard’, Pang has seen and done it all in Queenstown. He lives and breathes the sport that we all love. As a former World Cup racer, he’s deadly fast on a bike, riding with pinpoint precision, and as stylish as they come, making him a great person to watch flow down the steep trails of Queenstown. His passion for downhill is prevalent from the moment you step foot into Vertigo Bikes. There’s a museum of old downhill bikes as you walk in the front door and dotted around the shop are old classic parts and frames. Pictures of the staff out shredding the local trails, cover the walls.

There’s a vibe you can feel as soon as you enter and you can sense the passion which is shared by everyone who works there. The smell of the workshop lingers in the air; that classic old bike shop smell, it’s fantastic. Vertigo has such a rich history in mountain biking in Queenstown, that it’s such a staple in the community. Throughout the summer, Pang, Jimi Ramsay (manager at Skyline MTB) and a few legends from Skyline run the Vertigo Summer Series in the Queenstown Bike Park. A grassroots race series that consists of four rounds, with the Whakatipu World Champs wrapping it up. Pang and Jimi pour their heart and soul into these well-organised races, which are a passion project of theirs, along with volunteers who donate their time on race day. It’s a hotly contested race series – everyone comes out to race their mates and settle the trash-talk that’s been going on all summer. The turnout is huge and normally you have to pre-register to enter. All the funds raised at the races go back to the Queenstown Mountain Bike Club.

The groms make up a huge number of participants and their times are within seconds of the elites. Each race is on a different track and often have fresh bits of track dug in for the racing. The atmosphere at the side of the track is electric. They are awesome events to be involved with and it’s so cool to see all the young, up-and-coming riders get to race on the local trails.

If you want to see a representation of this local scene, there’s no better place to be than Atlas Beer Cafe on a summer’s evening. This tiny yet wholesome pub will be packed to the brim with locals after finishing their ride. There are bikes everywhere, parked up all over the place, and smiles and cheers getting thrown about left, right and centre. Big hearty pints are being poured from the range of 24 beer taps that consume the wall of the bar, and the warm, welcoming atmosphere sucks you in. Above the bar hangs Kelly McGarry’s bike that was famously flipped over the canyon gap at Red Bull Rampage. Other bike memorabilia is scattered around the place, and the friendly staff always want to know about your ride as they pour you a beverage to quench your thirst. If you’re a local and you come to Atlas on a Friday evening, you will be sure to bump into someone you know. You don’t need to plan your evening, as it’s one of the best places be post-ride. It’s a common place us riders like to descend on to catch up with each other after the week’s events and plan the weekend’s adventures. There are two reasons why everyone comes here though; 1) the fact it’s just a fantastic little bar that has a vibe that is second-to-none; and 2) Atlas give so much back to the mountain bike community. Atlas’s owner, Davey Mackenzie, and all the staff put so much effort into helping the Queenstown Mountain Bike Club, from organising and running fundraisers – like the SOS (Season of Shred) Party at the start of summer as well as the end-of-season wrap-up party – to sponsoring trails and the club’s trailer. The staff outdo themselves every year by putting so much effort into these great events that see a huge turnout – they are always a night to remember.

Personally, it’s not Queenstown that makes Queenstown such a special place to be. Yes, I’ll say it again, the riding is pretty extraordinary, the landscape is breathtaking and having three lift-accessed parks in close proximity really does add to the appeal. But that’s all just a bonus. What really makes this place oh-so-special? It’s the people who live here. They really make this place what it is. I’ve never lived in a place where the community feel is so prevalent – it’s more like a big family.

I’m so glad I saw that photo and it changed the trajectory of my life so many years ago. I’m happy I made the leap of faith by moving about as far away from home as possible. After a few years of living here, Queenstown is my home. When I head away on holiday, instead of dreading coming home, I find myself looking forward to being back. The breathtaking landscape, vibrant energy and unbelievably good trails on its doorstep, really make this a special place. You soon realize, it’s the people that make Queenstown, Dreamstown.

A little slice of paradise.

Fast forward to 2022 and Sam is now one of the seasoned veterans on the World Cup circuit. And a lot has changed over that time. Most notably, he now has a wife and two children to join him as he moves around the globe following the UCI circuit. With his experience on the circuit, and confidence to try something different, in 2022, he ditched the established way of doing things, bought a motorhome and hit the road racing; wife and two kids along for the ride too, as support crew. “We purchased a motorhome in the UK, and just drove the whole of Europe,” says Sam. “We did something like 9000km.”

Having recently toured New Zealand in summer with my own family, I’m well aware that life on the road isn’t always plain sailing. The idea of taking a family on the road, managing a race schedule and the pressure of performing at an elite level made me wonder if he’d had a few too many knocks to his head. But he assured me it was fine. How was it for his wife, Lysh, though? “It was hard for Lysh, for sure. She had to deal with our younger one in the motorhome; there is all the feeding. Yeah, it wasn’t aways easy,” explains Sam.

Sam’s kids come in and out of view on his webcam. In the background, I can hear some fighting over toys, and I’m imagining doing all of this inside the close confines of a motorhome — for six months. On the whole, it’s clear Sam, at least, had really enjoyed the past season.

“To be honest, it was awesome,” he admits. “It was just so exciting having the family there. It was like learning a new way of racing; racing while being a dad. It was more interesting than other years because I was going to all these places I’ve been to for 19 years, but I realised I actually never saw them properly. Typically, I’d just be with the team and at the hotel, and I wouldn’t really enjoy the place as much. Now, I’d be at practice, then as soon as that was done I’d go hang out with the family and really enjoy everything. It was great being with them and not just having the race as the only thing. It was like being on holiday with the family, but getting to race too, which was like an awesome bonus.”

This change of pace seems to suit Sam. The more we talk, the more he seems to relax. He’s reflective on his time as a racer, and the privilege that has been, but also how the reality of being on the road has real downsides. “When you’re with a team, everyone can be in their own bubble and often they don’t really do much. It can actually be quite boring a lot of the time. It’s crazy!”

But he hasn’t always been this way, and he seems to be able to see his own evolution and maturity as racer. “When I was younger, I was more like how I see other younger racers now — it was just racing, racing, racing! Everything had to be absolutely perfect.” He laughs, seeming to sense a bit of irony at what he is saying. “But now I’m old!” I’m a little surprised at just how casual he seems about it all, he just seems to be more realistic. “I just feel like I know what goes into racing — what works and what doesn’t. But actually seeing places differently, that’s what changes when you become a parent. It’s interesting in new ways,” Sam laughs. “Now I’m just looking for the best playgrounds and parks!”

But despite the highs of having his family on the road with him, the challenge any professional athlete faces is that results still matter. So, I asked him if he had achieved what he wanted to this year? “To be honest, my race results weren’t where I wanted them to be. It was pretty frustrating,” Sam admits. “I would get a mechanical or a flat tyre, it was… annoying.” Fort William was one such race. He missed out on qualifying for the main event, a race that is usually one of his favourites and one he performs well on. “I got a flat tyre halfway down…. I missed out on qualifying by half a second.” This was a tough pill to swallow. “I hadn’t been that angry for a long time. We’d driven all this way, I’d been with the family, it was a week of shitty weather, everyone was cooped up in the motorhome, there were midges everywhere, kids couldn’t do anything.” I ask him if having his family there changed how he was able to cope with a disappointing race. “Having the family there changes everything. In the past, if I was at a race and I didn’t do well, I would be thinking, ‘man I wish I was at home’. But, with the family there, it was completely different. It was just like, ‘ah, it doesn’t matter, it’s just part of it’.” This family thing sounds like the ultimate racer’s edge: great support when things are tough and the people you most want to celebrate with when things go well. Like at Mt St Anne, in Canada, where he was back in the top ten: “The high of that whole weekend was really just having the family there with me. It was just the best thing ever.”

Sam seems to have been able to carve out a career as a racer that is pretty enviable, and the longevity of it all is unique. In fact, just staying healthy in a high risk sport like downhill is a challenge; always balancing risk and reward. “When I was younger, I just wanted to go as fast as I could,” says Sam. “But you figure out pretty quickly that it doesn’t really work well that way. You just can’t ride that way all of the time, ‘cause you just end up crashing.” I ask him if this is, however, just what is required to be at the very top? He agrees. “Those guys [Loic Bruni and Amuary Pierron] just ride at such a high level. The risk is so high. But, if anything happens, when they hit the ground, they’re done, the season’s over. I can ride at that pace too, but it’s risky. You need to be comfortable with it.”

Staying healthy, staying on the bike, and showing up to races year in, year out has helped Sam keep sponsors happy. He has just finished up a contract with Norco, after seven years working together, to explore something new. Now, he’s taking charge of managing his own sponsors and race schedule. This seems like a lot of work to me; I ask him why he’s doing it? “I always wanted to run my own program, and I’m finally getting a chance to do that. I feel like I’m going back to my roots — not like a privateer, I’ll have factory support and I’ll have a good budget — it’s just a simpler operation.” Being on the Norco factory team, Sam has seen it all. It’s big business with big overheads. “In a big team, the team takes everything you make them. The managers get paid because of you; the budget is massive to move a team around. I realised this year, in taking myself on the road, it just doesn’t actually cost that much. But, with a team, you’re spending so much money with hotels, mechanics, managers and different staff. The amount of money that gets blown is unreal. With Norco, about twenty people were involved with the team; mechanics, ex riders, masseuse, other staff, an on-track guy.

They were a Canadian team, so lots of them would go to the race and then fly back to Canada each week. The amount of money that got wasted… I couldn’t believe it. So I just knew I could do something simpler that would still allow me to make it work.”

Sam seems to be confident in his own experience. Confident he’s developed skills he can now use to help navigate the new reality of racing whilst also being a family man. “I’m excited about the direction I’m going in, I really feel I can be in the top 10 for sure. I still believe my riding is at that level. I still feel like I can be on the podium the weekends that the track suits me and I’m feeling good.” But the sponsorship side of things is a steep learning curve. “It was so much easier when I had a manager doing all this! Now it’s way harder. I’m just not used to doing it. I’m so Kiwi! We just don’t say, ‘I need this much money so could you please give it to me?’. We’re more reserved and sort of just end up asking for something, anything. Often, I’ll say a number and sponsors will be come back to me with; ‘we can do more than that — you should really be asking for more!’ So, I’m learning I need to be a bit more cocky really. Sponsors often have more to offer than I think they do. But I like that I’m learning all this.”

Taking charge of his own program is about creating new opportunities. For example, he’s getting to work directly with the brands he has always wanted to work with, and working with them directly instead of through a manager or a team. “So often I’m hearing the brands say how good it is to be dealing with me directly. They’ll tell me they’ve always wanted to work with me, not this other person or a team I have been associated with. Often, they just want to do a little deal with me directly but they’ve had to negotiate with the whole team. So it’s cool to be able to work more directly with the actual companies and hear this kind of stuff.”

It’s not all plain sailing, though, and even trying to ensure he gets enough support to run the lean operation that he has in mind for next year has challenges. “It’s hard at this time, all the sponsors are tightening up. They’re not selling as much and everyone is overstocked, and everyone’s freaking out, and just taking so long to return calls and emails.” But Sam’s confident it will all come together, and he’ll be back on the circuit next year. He won’t tell me what bike he’s riding just yet, but he’s obviously excited about it. “I’ve pretty much got everything locked in but there are still a couple of things we’re waiting on. In terms of the industry, to be honest, it is probably the worst time to do it.” But he’s enjoying the new challenges of management, and of the conversations he is getting to have. “It’s just great to be able to choose the people I want to work with, and work with the people I like to work with. Everyone that I’m working with is a friend; I’ve worked with them for years and they are fans of me and I feel like I’ll be able to have a long future working with them. I was with Norco for a long time, and a part of me was just thinking, ‘this would be good if it carries on forever’, but in other ways a fresh start is exciting too.”

There are other changes on the horizon, too. Not least of all Discovery TV taking over the broadcasting rights to the UCI Mountain Bike World Cup. Something that has a lot of riders, Sam included, curious to see how it all unfolds. It’s a complicated business working with the UCI, and the relationship between the UCI and riders has often been fraught. Plus, there are lots of unknowns. “We don’t even know how many people are going to qualify; how many people they are going to show on TV… It seems like they are trying to suck every cent out of us,” explains Sam, candidly.

On the other hand, Sam has always been a fixture on the Crankworx schedule, something some of the other riders don’t seem to prioritise. The reason is simple; “I’ve just always enjoyed the Crankworx events,” says Sam. “If you go to a UCI World Cup, the organisers don’t really care about you at all. You are the show, but they just aren’t bothered. The Crankworx guys, though — you go to the race, and they do everything for you. They are so supportive of you; they help you out with everything. You email the organiser and ten minutes later you’ve got an answer. They just really take care of the riders.” And the festival-style race schedule appeals to Sam, too. “All the events are so fun. They just pack the events in, too. You do one race one day, and if you do badly in that one race, you’re like, ‘oh well, I’ve got another race tomorrow’. It’s busy, and I like that. At Rotorua this year I had the downhill practice, slalom and pump track all in one day. The people love it. I’ve always told the organisers I’ll race these ‘til I can’t race anymore.”

Right now, however, it’s the off season and, for Sam, this means it’s time off the bike and a different pace of life. “I drop my daughter (Indie) at pre-school, then I take Blake (his son) for a spin in the bike trailer.” Family commitments mean Sam doesn’t have the luxury of training whenever he wants, either, so he’s being more efficient than ever with his time — doing weights in the garage before the children wake up being just one example. But his off season is more than just being off the circuit, its exploring other passions too. “I love hunting and spearfishing and that’s what I love doing when I’m not racing. This time of year I love those things even more than biking… Racing is so intense, but with diving you’ve got to really slow your heart rate right down and be relaxed. Plus, it’s all about just being in another environment. Hunting is the same, you have to be calm.”

Nineteen years in any career that takes you on the road for six months of every year is a challenge that could wear thin, but it seems to suit Sam just fine. “I can’t stay in one place for too long. I don’t know how people live in one place for so long! After being in Christchurch for seven months, I’m ready to go back to Europe and start racing again. I just – still – love racing. That’s what I realised this year; I just love racing.” I ask him how he’s stayed in the game for so long, and how many other riders he seen come and go, and his answer reminds me of the day I watched him race in Rotorua: “I think it’s just because I enjoy it so much”. We talk about this for a while, and Sam mentions that one thing he’s wondered about is whether his ability to really enjoy life off the bike has helped him enjoy life on the bike even more. “I think, guys who didn’t stay in that long, all they did was ride their bike. I think if you’re just doing that all the time, you’ll get over it. It’s almost like they’ve put too much into it. To be honest, in my off season I hardly ride a bike. I just do other things – hunting, fishing, diving, and spending time with the kids. Just having other things going on aside from racing is so important.”

Sam acknowledges it hasn’t always been this way. Without being arrogant, he seems proud that he’s been able to evolve over the years to approach riding in a more mature way. “When you’re young you need to be on the bike all the time, you need to do that to get the skills and that’s exactly what I did. I just rode my bike every day, did dirt jumps, pushed up to do downhill runs, XC — whatever I could do. I spent every day on my bike, from dawn ‘til dusk. It was all about biking. But now, I know I’ve got those skills, so it’s more about having fun on the bike and enjoying it and not getting burnt out. It’s key to know when to train and when to stop – to avoid getting burnt out with training. It’s a learning thing — and I’m still learning.” He seems genuine. Genuine that he really does still just love riding his bike, but hungry for more too. “I feel like I’ve got a lot more in me. There’s a lot of young kids coming through the local scene, but they don’t seem to be able to beat me yet, so I might as well keep going.”

Might as well.