Pedal for Stevie

Stevie Smith no longer being here is something I still struggle to understand. It was strange to be sat idolising a person your age, talking to a camera about how he wants to make it in World Cup racing up alongside the greats like Steve Peat and Sam Hill. I think for many riders that is when Stevie became more than just a world cup hopeful. He seemed to already be a hero, but exactly the same age as me. I was never going to be anywhere close to his level but I would still pretend I was him any time I rode, kidding myself that I had a fraction of his speed, style and talent on a bike. Fast forward 10 years and I am sitting writing about not just a fallen hero, but a fallen family member.

Mountain biking is small. Yes it is rapidly growing, but there are a select few who truly understand what it is to be a member of this fantastic family. What many fear is that as it grows, this sense of community will wither into faceless, nameless ships passing in the night on commercialised trail centres. I have been guilty of it, and I'm sure it has happened to me too. A rider comes up to you and starts chatting. You get the vague sense they aren't very good as they don't have proper kit, their bike looks like it could do with moving on from listening to Limp Bizkit, and you start to roll up the conversation windows. It's the classic 'holier-than-thou' interaction endemic in every sport, recreation and cheerleading team that every human seems to struggle to turn off. But then I think back to one of the two conversations I was ever lucky enough to have with Stevie Smith. I approached the Devinci pits at Fort William. 'Hey Stevie, how's the track running?' 10 minutes later, after regaling every close call, ground condition, line choice, who he's spoken to this weekend, my bike, what racing I do myself and what I do for a living... I wished him good luck and left him to his race run prep. The more I think of this conversation the sadder I feel. A world cup racer took nearly 10 minutes out his Sunday morning to chat to a complete stranger, and asked me as many questions about myself as I did him. He's clearly faster than me, he's clearly got better kit than me, he's got a world cup race run fast approaching this afternoon to get ready for... but here he stands, seemingly happy that someone does the thing he loves doing and is excited to share it.

Mountain biking is no place for the cooler than you crowd. Mountain biking is a family, and should always be as such. This is why I miss Stevie so much. He was a part of that family, and many people who don't mountain bike have had a real struggle contemplating why I care so much. In order to show how much we care as a community we have: held a memorial world cup run in his honour; used the #longlivechainsaw so he's always in our thoughts; raised an incredible $66,661 so far for his memorial bike park in Nanaimo. These are all fantastic and productive ways of remembering Stevie. I would like to play my part in two ways:


1) https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/longlivechainsaw I will be doing a very ill-advised fundraiser by pedalling my full race setup downhill bike (tyres and all) a 46 mile pedal from Glasgow to Edinburgh in my full race kit, with a Canadian flag on my back. Please donate to the page and share it about. All proceeds will go to Stevie's legacy fund.

2) The next time I'm sat on an uplift bus, out on a trail ride, racing or sitting in the cafe with worn out legs... I'm going to remember that conversation I had with Stevie and what it really means to share your passion with others who love it too.

#longlivechainsaw
NB: As Stevie's own gofundme page is in dollars, British donations to my page will be transferred over in one charitable donation to save as much money from fees as possible. If you wish to give directly to Stevie's gofundme, donate at https://www.gofundme.com/23k7fus