The Red Bulletin US 04/22 by Red Bull Media House

BEYOND THE ORDINARY

U.S. EDITION APRIL 2022, $5.99

BEYOND THE ORDINARY

ALEX HONNOLD’S NEXT CHAPTER THE RED BULLETIN 04/2022

In an intimate conversation, the groundbreaking climber discusses fatherhood and a life beyond fearlessness

NOW D E TA I L S

INSIDE

COMMITTED. There’s only one way to reach the top. You try and try again. There’s always failure. You learn from your past mistakes. Train some more. Gain experience. Then you try harder. Fail and fall again. You take a beating. Get hurt. And keep coming back. But in the end, when you pull past the point of no return, steady your breath, and stare down what’s between you and success, you know what you have to do. Commit. We know what it takes. At Black Diamond, we’re committed to catching the falls along the way.

Black Diamond Athlete Colin Duffy

Christian Adam

EDITOR’S NOTE

SEARCH PARTY

All of us are on a journey. Maybe to find ourselves. Or be ourselves. Or to find our next big thing. Consider “Beyond Fearlessness” (page 22), our cover story on Alex Honnold. The superstar climber—who became a global icon for the audacious ascent of Yosemite’s El Capitan featured in the Oscar-winning film Free Solo—is at a crossroads of sorts, contemplating fatherhood and climbing projects that push his boundaries in new ways. In short, his artistry on rock is evolving.

CONTRIBUTORS THIS ISSUE

JAMES STOUT

“After covering the humanitarian crisis in Afghanistan from afar, I enjoyed meeting Afsana,” says the San Diego–based writer about his profile of cyclist Afsana Nawrozi. “I wanted this story to capture her tenacity and the amazing things she is doing rather than the awful things that have been done to her country.” Stout’s work has appeared in Esquire, National Geographic and Smithsonian. Page 44

Atiba Jefferson shoots dancer Darren “Outrage” King in Santa Monica.

This issue has a number of stories that highlight individuals on deeply personal journeys. “Krump King” (page 68) profiles dancer Darren “Outrage” King, who is pushing the art form of krump on a global stage. And in “The Trailblazer” (page 44) you’ll meet cyclist Afsana Nawrozi, who fled Afghanistan and the Taliban to chase her dreams in sport and life. Perhaps these stories will fuel your passion to charge ahead on your own journey. 04

“I thought we were going to tell one story about dancing but a different one emerged,” says the Singapore-born and Los Angeles– based journalist about her profile of dancer Outrage. “We landed with a piece that speaks to Rage’s own unique experience and his passion to empower others.” Teo-Blockey writes and hosts a podcast for Under the Radar and produces music stories for the public radio station KEXP. Page 68

THE RED BULLETIN

RAINER HOSCH (COVER)

CELINE TEO-BLOCKEY

Welcome to nature

The fjørå collection Bold. Innovative. Freeride inspired.

Our stores: Norrøna Flagship Store New York, Norrøna Concept Store Boulder, Norrøna Outlet Store Castle Rock

Our mission is to create the greatest outdoor products. Crafted with quality, function, design, and sustainability through four generations since 1929.

norrona.com

CONTENTS April

FEATURES 22

Beyond Fearlessness

Ready to Rumble

The world’s greatest climber: Inside the head of Alex Honnold. To get you stoked for the 2022 UCI Mountain Bike World Cup series, here is an epic portfolio from last season’s action.

44 The Trailblazer

Afsana Nawrozi fled from Afghanistan to Arizona to pursue her dreams—to become an elite cyclist and shape her own destiny.

Home Game

How a dreamer from Delaware started a basketball league in Africa—thanks in part to his success on a reality show.

56 Roar Emotion Music superstar Thundercat is the jaguar of jazz fusion, but

beneath that funk-tastic image is a complex human.

68 Krump King Darren “Outrage” King has crushed krump competitions around

22 AT THE CRUX

Alex Honnold, now 36, has become the most recognized rock climber in the world thanks to the success of the Oscar-winning film Free Solo.

the world, but these days he’s helping his art form evolve.

RAINER HOSCH, RED BULL CONTENT POOL

32 MUDBATH

2018 UCI world champion Kate Courtney grinds her way through a tough lap in Les Gets, France, in 2021.

THE RED BULLETIN

THE

DEPARTURE

Taking You to New Heights

9 Ready to battle: Orioles sensation Cedric Mullins 12 Activist-athlete Asma

Elbadawi’s hoop dreams

14 Subway skating in Germany 16 Rooms to ride in Singapore 18 Rapper Kojey Radical talks

identity and fatherhood

20 Folk hero Yusuf/Cat Stevens

shares his feel-good playlist

GUIDE

Get it. Do it. See it. 81 Travel: Discover a rich tapestry of art in Dallas 84 Fitness tips from cycling legend Rebecca Rusch 86 Dates for your calendar 88 The best new bike gear 94 Anatomy of gear 96 The Red Bulletin worldwide 98 Freeskiing in Saas-Fee

68 ATIBA JEFFERSON

FLIGHT PATH

Darren “Outrage” King, a renowned krumper, is sharing the principles of his discipline with a new generation.

THE RED BULLETIN

GEICO.COM/CYCLE • 1-800-442-9253 • LOCAL OFFICE GREAT LOW RATES | MULTI-VEHICLE DISCOUNT | SPECIALIZED AGENTS Some discounts, coverages, payment plans, and features are not available in all states, in all GEICO companies, or in all situations. Boat and PWC coverages are underwritten by GEICO Marine Insurance Company. In the state of CA, program provided through Boat Association Insurance Services, license #0H87086. Motorcycle and ATV coverages are underwritten by GEICO Indemnity Company. Customer satisfaction based on an independent study conducted by Alan Newman Research, 2020. GEICO is a registered service mark of Government Employees Insurance Company, Washington, DC 20076; a Berkshire Hathaway Inc. subsidiary. © 2022 GEICO 21_731772673

LIFE

STYLE

BEYOND

THE

ORDINARY

THE

GETTY IMAGES

HITTING HIS STRIDE Mullins, who recently disclosed his struggle with Crohn’s disease, is a star slugger for the Baltimore Orioles.

THE RED BULLETIN

Whether it’s a 95-mph fastball or a life-changing diagnosis, Orioles sensation Cedric Mullins is ready to battle. 09

T H E D E PA RT U R E

In early 2020, Mullins ached so badly he got a colonoscopy. It showed a ton of inflammation. He got on meds and held off surgery until the season ended. In November, doctors removed nearly 6 inches of infected tissue from his small intestine. He spent Thanksgiving in a hospital bed. He didn’t tell a soul outside of his immediate circle. “[Baltimore teammate] Trey Mancini was going through his cancer recovery,” adds Mullins. “My case is a serious surgery, but what he was going through outweighed that by a long shot.” Robin Cope, Mullins’ agent and longtime mentor, is also at lunch. “He gave you the clean version,” says Cope about his client, who still got 38 hits in 140 at-bats that season. “He had stuff hanging out of him. It was bad. But not one time did he complain about anything. He said, ‘I just want to heal so I can get on the field with my guys.’ ” This wasn’t the first time he’s dealt with adversity. Mullins went to high school in Snellville, Georgia, about a 40-minute drive from Atlanta. He had to fight for playing time on the stacked baseball team. He wasn’t swamped with D-I scholarship offers upon graduation. Mullins had to humbly pack his gear for Louisburg College in North Carolina before transferring to Campbell University. “Just me having that love for the game is what led me to keep on pushing,” says Mullins. The Orioles certainly saw something in him, selecting the outfielder in the 13th round of the 2015 MLB draft. The smart, scrappy Mullins worked his way up the minor-league ranks and made his big-league debut in August 2018. He had three hits in his first game.

Mullins had some solid moments over the next three campaigns, but he showed his full potential in 2021. Mullins not only had baseball’s only 30/30 performance— notching at least 30 home runs and 30 stolen bases—but also had a spectacular homerun-robbing catch that was named MLB.com’s No. 6 play of the year. His outstanding play earned Mullins his first AllStar Game appearance. The young slugger admits he’s eager to earn a repeat invite. “My family is already planning next year’s trip,” he declares between bites of lamb. While discussing Seattle, host of the 2023 MLB All-Star Game, the conversation pivots to city legend Ken Griffey Jr. When the Mariners outfielder was becoming an icon in the early 1990s, far more Black players were in the league. According to the Society for American Baseball Research, African Americans composed 17 percent of pro rosters in 1991. By comparison, that number fell under 8 percent during the 2021 season. Scholars have gotten laryngitis discussing the reasons why Black participation in the game has fallen—too expensive, too many other distractions for kids, too little marketing to urban communities. But Mullins knows he can use his voice to turn more Black youth on to baseball. “I feel like steps are being made [by MLB],” says Mullins. “During the COVID season, [the diversity-driven] Players Alliance really took off because it was a lot going on that year with George Floyd and all that went behind that. I remember going to an event here in Atlanta. They provided COVID materials for families and sports gear for kids. That was cool to be a part of that.”

PICTUREDESK.COM, GETTY IMAGES

t Fogo de Chão, an upscale Brazilian steakhouse, finely dressed gauchos carry spears of meat to patrons. Salads, cold pastas and mashed potatoes are on the menu, too, but this place is most particular about its proteins. Cedric Mullins chose to meet at the Atlanta location for lunch. At 5’8”, 175 pounds, the standout Baltimore Orioles outfielder is on the diminutive side, so maybe he’s using the interview as an excuse to pack on a few offseason pounds. The O’s nutritionist will be pleased to hear that Mullins eats way more salad than sirloin. And the only drink he sips is water. He explains that he didn’t pick the spot to gorge on meat; we’re here because the dining room is private. Mullins, 27, has something big to get off his chest. “You’re the first person to know this in the media,” he says. “I have Crohn’s disease. It’s something I kinda knew I had when I was 18, but it wasn’t truly diagnosed.” (Mullins would publicly disclose his struggle with the condition, which causes chronic gastrointestinal inflammation, a few weeks later.)

THE RED BULLETIN

MULLINS WAS NAMED TO THE ALL-STAR GAME IN 2021. HE PLANS TO RETURN.

“He’s starting to embrace the fact that he’s going to be the face of lots of things,” says Cope. “There’s not enough African American influence in the game right now. He’s another piece to bring our kids back to the game.” Baltimore, a city that’s 62 percent Black, is warming up to Mullins. It’s easy to see why. No. 31 plays with purpose. He plays with flair. He plays with hunger. THE RED BULLETIN

But with ongoing labor negotiations slugging along between MLB and its players association, fans may have to wait to see Mullins play. At press time, the two sides were not close to a new agreement, threatening to delay spring training and the regular season. For obvious reasons, he can’t discuss the lockout’s particulars. What Mullins

can address, however, are his plans for the spring. “What’s exciting is that I’m able to put more preparation into the season than I was able to [last year],” says Mullins, who’s focused on weight gain and hitting. “I was able to do what I did with just one month of prep. Let’s see what happens.” Sounds like somebody is ready to feast. —DeMarco Williams

In the 2021 season, Mullins was the only major leaguer to tally 30 home runs and 30 stolen bases.

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Poet, visual artist, social activist, basketball player: This Sudanese British powerhouse is all these things and more. Pigeonhole her at your peril.

t school, Asma Elbadawi’s work was always returned to her covered in red pen marks. “I was constantly told that my spelling wasn’t good,” she recalls. Then Elbadawi discovered poetry and, as someone with dyslexia, it opened up a new world of selfexpression. “Dyslexia is one of those things that allows you to think completely outside the box,” she explains. “You make connections you normally might not make.” Perhaps it’s this ability to see the world differently that led Elbadawi to become not only a poet but also a basketball player and visual artist; she’s currently in residence at the Jan van Eyck Academie in the Netherlands, while her debut poetry collection, Belongings, explores her dual heritage as a Sudanese British woman. But she’s best known for her activism in sports—in 2017, alongside other players, she successfully fought to overturn the International Basketball Federation’s ban on female players wearing the hijab on court. “I’m a lass from Yorkshire who campaigned for something I felt strongly about, and we were all doing it together,” says Elbadawi, who was born in Sudan and raised in the U.K. “It showed me the power of the collective and made me realize I should never feel my voice is not powerful enough.”

You might think there was no more room in her life for further commitments, but Elbadawi celebrates the breadth and diversity of her interests. “As a child, I loved sport, art, poetry; I was told that there was no future in that. But there was no other path for me except this.” As she says in her poem “Banshee”: “Being anything but me would be a tragedy.” the red bulletin: How do you balance sports and poetry? asma elbadawi: It’s not that easy. My poetry forces me to be vulnerable and to open up to others, whereas sport requires you to be your toughest self. Like, you can push and shove me, but I’m still gonna make the shot. Poetry has helped me become a better basketball player. What skills have you learned from each of those worlds? In sport, I’m the kind of person who wants to be perfect. With poetry, when I was first performing I’d make mistakes on stage and no one cared. It made me realize that it’s OK to make a mistake. They’re both sides of me that I need, and I can’t imagine life without them. I’m a sensitive person, and if I don’t release that in my poetry, it affects other parts of my life. I’ve made them work as best as I can in a world that hasn’t fully created an environment where women can be athletes.

How do you respond to those who say that athletes shouldn’t voice their opinions? I have this conversation with myself a lot. My first encounter with racism in sports felt like I was being punished for speaking out. For years, I thought athletes should just play and not get involved with politics or humanitarian issues; that they should stay neutral for their own safety. Then I realized the power of having a platform. So many people who have platforms in this world are saying negative things, so if you’re an athlete and do have a platform, you have a responsibility to stand up for people with less of a voice. Athletes should have personality, an opinion—they should speak out when they see that something isn’t right. Is it important to challenge others’ expectations? I think that when we judge others, we do so through [the prism of] our own experiences or those of our communities. Don’t let other people define who you are and who you can be in this world. Instagram: @asmaelbadawi THE RED BULLETIN

RACHAEL SIGEE

FAITH, HOOPS AND CHARITY

What barriers do hijabwearing women face in sports? The pathways to being an elite athlete are very unknown to women from my community. Part of it is that we’re not visible—people assume our families won’t allow us to take those professions. When I was growing up, I wasn’t encouraged by my PE teachers to play netball—which I was really into—for local or national teams. And these are the pathways that get you to where you can represent your country. That’s one major barrier. The second is that women don’t get paid the same as men, even at the elite level. I know so many athletes who are part-time teachers or have bank jobs or whatever, just so they can continue playing sports.

SADIA MIR

Asma Elbadawi

“POETRY HAS HELPED MAKE ME A BETTER BASKETBALL PLAYER.”

THE RED BULLETIN

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Cologne, Germany

PERFECT PLATFORM This underground station in Cologne had been on photographer Jan Fassbender’s must-shoot list for some time. So when rain disrupted his plans with skater Luca Schroeder, the solution was obvious: Go deep. “The station is fairly new, and the tunnels linking to the main lines are still under construction,” says Fassbender, a semifinalist in the “Innovation by EyeEm” category of Red Bull Illume. “So it only sees a train about every 20 minutes, and very few people. This makes it the ideal architectural backdrop to be skated.” Instagram: @jan.fassbender

JAN FASSBENDER/RED BULL ILLUME

DAVYDD CHONG

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Anyone else getting Squid Game vibes here? For Singaporean BMX rider Tay Seng Tee, the setting—hundreds of prefabricated rooms awaiting transfer to the building site—was not so deadly, but no less thrilling. “The wall of each unit had a penciled scribble showing the address of where it would go,” explains Ebrahim Adam, whose photo was a finalist in the “Playground by WhiteWall” category of Red Bull Illume. “We didn’t write it down, sadly—it would have been fun to show the future occupants the image we took.” ebrahimadam.com

EBRAHIM ADAM/RED BULL ILLUME

PLAY ROOM

DAVYDD CHONG

Singapore

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Kojey Radical

I did in a random hotel in the middle of Bulgaria.

THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS

Do you still feel that anxiety? ’Course! I feel like everything I was celebrated for in the beginning is slowly moving toward feeling outdated. It’s a fact that the industry and radio will support Black music as long as it promotes sex, violence and drugs. Everything else kind of has to work its way through.

contradicted what was coming out of the U.K. grime scene at the time, and he navigated those years questioning his identity and his future in the industry. Now, at 29, following the birth of his son in 2020, Amponsah has reached a place of contentment—a state of mind reflected in his long-awaited debut LP, Reason to Smile. He’s made it through the tunnel, but most crucially, he’s come to terms with the journey it took to get there. the red bulletin: How did your experiences growing up affect you? kojey radical: They instilled me with a blind faith, because who knows how long [any of us] have on this planet anyway. My idea of mortality became, “When it’s your time, it’s your time.” I might as well do what I want and think what I want. I might as well go where I want to go, because if something’s going to happen to me, it’s going to happen. That’s how I’ve always rationalized it. Did your success in music change that outlook? When my career began to take off, that’s when I was at my lowest point, personally. I started getting money, signed my deal, and I was flying here, there and everywhere. But I wasn’t OK. I’d come back and suddenly feel less at home than

Is that the message behind Reason to Smile? Absolutely. I wanted to acknowledge all the people who I’ve seen go through hardships and make it out, whether that’s my mum or the mother of my son. When my mum looks at her grandchildren, that’s her reason to smile—surviving all those years, working as hard as she could so that her children could be comfortable enough to have their own children. One of your reasons to smile is fatherhood. What has that taught you? Patience. In the beginning, it was difficult for me. I don’t think men have a natural maternal instinct. But slowly and surely you start to really understand that all your experiences are important, because they’re going to help you shape your child’s experiences. I’ve definitely grown into the role. Kojey Radical’s debut LP, Reason to Smile, is out now on Atlantic Records; kojeyradical.online THE RED BULLETIN

WILL LAVIN

wadwo Adu Genfi Amponsah has been searching for the light at the end of the tunnel. The spoken-word poet, rapper and mixed-media artist, better known as Kojey Radical—he named himself after the protagonist of a comic book he created in secondary school—is known on the music scene as much for his sunny disposition as for his brand of socially conscious rap. But beneath the charismatic exterior, Amponsah has spent his life privately battling trauma and anxiety. “People don’t often speak about the PTSD of being a teenager, having to go to funerals and hearing that people you know have been shot or stabbed,” he says. “I experienced a lot of things growing up that made me take a hard look at mortality quite early on.” Born in east London in 1993, the son of Ghanaian immigrants, Amponsah dropped his first musical project, Dear Daisy: Opium, in 2014, not long after graduating from the London College of Fashion with a degree in fashion illustration. Three more EPs followed—23Winters (2016), In God’s Body (2017) and Cashmere Tears (2019)—as did widespread acclaim for his soul-searching music, which deftly explores themes of race, class and social justice. But this success did little to quell his anxieties. Amponsah’s art

How do you overcome that? I realized what I was going through was depression and [bad] mental health. From that, I realized [there were ways] I could combat it and help myself. I remember one day thinking about how a lot of my projects end on a low point— they always end with the protagonist being in this dark space. But then I thought about how there’s a celebration in that realization.

DANNY KASIRYE

How the British poet and rapper finally made peace with his inner demons and produced his most profound work to date.

“I WANTED TO ACKNOWLEDGE ALL THOSE I’VE SEEN GO THROUGH HARDSHIPS.”

THE RED BULLETIN

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Playlist

SOUL MUSIC

Folk music icon Yusuf/Cat Stevens on four life-affirming songs that lift his spirits.

THE BEATLES “THERE’S A PLACE” (1963) “It would be impossible not to mention the impact of the Beatles—but what songs represent the Beatles for me? Well, one of them is about a place, which I think is a [theme that links] all the songs I love. ‘There’s a Place’ was written [primarily] by John Lennon and I adore it, because, for me, it depicts the destination we all want to end up in: that one place where everything is fine.”

STEVIE WONDER “SATURN” (1976) “Stevie is one of my favorite artists, and he turned everything around when he came out of his shell. He did something musically that was incomparable. I love ‘Saturn’ [from A Something’s Extra, a bonus EP included with his Songs in the Key of Life album]. It’s about how we’re destroying this world, and how some people are thinking of leaving it to find a better place, but there ain’t going to be one.”

MICHAEL JACKSON “EARTH SONG” (1995) “Now, I actually never heard this song when it was first released, because I’d left [the music industry] and I wasn’t really into it. I didn’t know what was going on at that time. But when I finally got round to listening to what had been happening in music while I was away . . . I’ve got to say, Michael Jackson just did it. ‘Oh my god,’ I thought to myself. ‘What a brilliant tune.’ ” THE RED BULLETIN

GETTY IMAGES

BOOKER T. & THE MGS “GREEN ONIONS” (1962) “Growing up in the West End of London [he lived above the family restaurant, just a short walk from Oxford Street], there were clubs and everything, and the big thing at that time was R&B. Back then, R&B was the development of the blues, but it became more accessible, and there were some instrumentals that just drove me wild. This track was one of them. I would always dance to this—I love it.”

MARCEL ANDERS

he formula for constructing a very good song is pretty straightforward: a catchy melody plus profound lyrics about peace, love and spirituality. At least that’s how it seems to Yusuf/Cat Stevens—the current stage name of the musician who started out as Cat Stevens, then became Yusuf Islam in 1978 after converting to the Muslim faith. It’s an approach he applied with melodious skill on the ’70s folk anthems “Wild World,” “Moonshadow” and “Morning Has Broken.” After an absence of almost three decades, he returned to music in 2006 to continue his mission, using his songs as a source of enlightenment and creating a bridge between Western and Eastern cultures. Here he picks four tracks that influenced his songwriting. catstevens.com

2 2 0 2 , 8 Y MA T ’ N A C O H W E S O H T R O F RUN RLD O W E H T R E V O L L SAME TIME A TOGETHER AT THE

JOIN US NOW

Borneo, 2009: Honnold, then 24, on his first international expedition. He joined a North Face team for a big-wall first ascent on Mount Kinabalu.

BEYOND FEARLESSNESS

The world’s greatest climber: Inside the head and home of Alex Honnold. Words HEATHER BALOGH ROCHFORT

Photography JIMMY CHIN

RAINER HOSCH

Honnold, now 36, has become the most recognized rock climber in the world, largely thanks to the success of Free Solo.

It’s just another weekend in the Honnold household. “Is this your backpack or Jimmy’s?” Alex Honnold asks as he blows past the chair in which I’m sitting. I stumble for an answer for a split second before Jonathan Griffith, Honnold’s friend and the director of the upcoming Alex Honnold: The Soloist VR, saves me with an explanation. “Jimmy Chin is somewhere in the compound,” he offers. I guess it’s that kind of party. It’s a warm Saturday morning in November and I’m cozied up at Honnold’s dining table, tucked near a bank of windows in his home outside of Las Vegas. The view outside is captivating—brilliant red sandstone cliffs fill the horizon—but I’m more interested in what’s happening inside. As I watch, Honnold is bustling around his living room, tidying the space with the same methodical precision he employs when scaling 3,000-foot rock faces without the aid of a rope. It feels surreal, watching the Free Solo star practice something as mundane as domesticity, but that’s the thing about Honnold: He doesn’t bullshit. He just gets it done. Honnold dumps Chin’s backpack in the kitchen before scooping up another living room obstacle: a play mat designed for babies needing to practice tummy time. I see him pause for a brief moment, almost as if he wonders how earth-toned baby gear found its way into his path. He offers a small shrug before tossing the “baby thing” in a closet, stopping to organize a 2-inch-thick pile of fan mail as he zips back toward the kitchen. The entire scene is a model of efficiency. But it’s probably not the sort most would envision when they picture the man who famously made the first 24

free-solo ascent of Yosemite National Park’s El Capitan in 2017, or became a worldwide sensation after the release of the Oscar-winning documentary about the project. Honnold has spent nearly 25 years climbing rocks—both big and small, with and without ropes—and his reputation precedes him on a global level. But now, he is staring down the crux of his own life as the next chapter takes shape. Marriage. Parenting. Climbing. Soloing. Is there room for it all?

COURTESY OF ALEX HONNOLD

The early years: A 17-year-old Honnold, pictured here with a cousin, goes for a little climb in his uncle’s backyard in California in 2003.

“I think my whole evolution as a climber is totally natural and what I always imagined.”

In August 2015, Honnold spent two weeks climbing in Bugaboo Provincial Park, British Columbia. On the trip’s rest day, he did a full day of difficult free-soloing without a second thought.

FAMILY

“I think I’m a lot better prepared for hard climbs than I am for parenting,” Honnold laughs. “With climbing, I read tons about it. I study and I train. But with the parenting books, I haven’t looked at any of them yet because I think we can just figure it out as we go.” On their one-year anniversary in September 2021, Honnold and his wife, Sanni McCandless Honnold, announced they were pregnant with a daughter due in February 2022. Stoked climbing fans around the world enthusiastically congratulated the duo on their Instagram post while also low-key buzzing with curiosity. For many, Honnold is the most recognizable climber on the planet, and certainly the one most associated with mind-boggling free-solo ascents. Becoming the face of a sport so deeply entrenched in risk and danger meant quite a few supporters were surprised by the trajectory of his life. But not Honnold. For him, a family was always in the cards—regardless of what it means for his climbing career. “I’m sort of prepared for anything,” he says after settling into one of two round sofa chairs in his living room. “I’m open to the idea that being a dad could change my climbing, but I currently climb in the safest way that I can. It’s hard to say how parenting is going to change that.” Almost as if on cue, Honnold’s caramel-colored doe eyes flick to the window behind me as a tentative knock on the glass door interrupts the conversation. A friendly-faced woman pokes her head inside while holding an even happier baby in her arms, gurgling spit bubbles and kicking chunky thighs. With one glance at the cameras in the room, the woman ducks out and Honnold apologizes. “Sorry, that’s my sister-in-law and they’re living with the parents in the other house [on the property] with their 3-month-old,” he says. “That’s my practice baby.” It’s clear that Honnold is at ease with the concept of family and even easier with children. But really, it’s no surprise considering his own everyday childhood. Born in Sacramento in 1985 as the youngest of two kids to parents Charles Honnold and Dierdre Wolownick, Honnold and his family were decidedly middle class. Both of his parents were language teachers at the local community college; Charles taught English as a Second Language (ESL) and Dierdre 26

was a longtime French instructor. The family wasn’t perfect but functioned nonetheless. His parents divorced during Honnold’s first year of college (before he dropped out) and his father passed away shortly thereafter from a heart attack. But Honnold remembers a good familial bond and certainly always hoped to create a family of his own. For his part, Honnold showed his true colors early. He leaned into problemsolving games like Legos as a young boy and began climbing in kindergarten. By the time he was 10 he was fully invested in the sport, although he is the first to admit that he wasn’t the best. “I just loved it,” he muses back in his living room. “I still love being out. It’s a key part of my life.” As he says this, he vaguely gestures toward the window and the dusky red rock looming in the distance. “Have you climbed there before?” he asks with a tilt of his head. I tell him that it’s the one outdooradventure sport that really never stuck for me. “You’re really missing out,” he says with a wide smile. “Definitely.” It’s these uncharacteristic moments during our conversation when Honnold’s passion supersedes his pragmatism. He has been described in the past as both hermitic and skeptical. But, as the early morning bleeds into the lunch hour and he seems to feel more comfortable, I see it differently. In many ways he reminds me of my husband: practical and logical, often to a fault. Honnold didn’t live a nomadic existence in a van for 10 years because he wanted to be alone; he did it because it made sense and was the most logical solution to maximize time with his priority relationship: climbing. Now that he has both Sanni and a daughter on the way, it’s almost as if he’s retuned his heart strings a bit because that’s the logical conclusion. “I think my whole evolution as a climber has been totally natural and what I always imagined,” Honnold says. “I didn’t envision living in a van until I was old, because there are several prominent examples of well-known climbers that did that and I never really looked up to them. I always looked up to climbers who pushed climbing in their time but also had a family and some stability and went on to impact the world in a real way. I mean, you can’t live in a van forever. “And we’re really excited to be having kids soon.”

No ropes: On the remote Musandam Peninsula in Oman, Honnold goes for an exploratory deepwater solo climb in 2013.

In preparation for his eventual free solo of Yosemite’s El Capitan, Honnold headed to China in 2016 to practice roof climbing on the Getu Arch.

FEAR

It’s a heady thing to have a verb named after you, but that’s exactly what happened to Honnold. After his 2008 record-setting free-solo climb of the 23-pitch Regular Northwest Face route up Yosemite’s Half Dome, a now-infamous photo spread across the internet. Honnold, decked out in a red hoodie and black climbing pants, stands upon a tiny indentation of rock with his back and his heels pressed flat against the wall and his toes almost dangling

over the edge. Nearly 1,800 feet of air floats below him, and as is expected with free soloing, he has no climbing protection to attach him to the wall. One fall and he is done. Thus, “honnolding” was born: to stand in a precarious place with your back against a wall and your face toward the drop—and toward your fear. Over the years, Honnold’s fear—or lack thereof—has become a cocktail conversation topic. Most of us cannot fathom accomplishing his same feats THE RED BULLETIN

“I definitely feel fear and I still fear death. I’m just more desensitized to it and better equipped to manage it.”

without experiencing immobilizing terror. Mere mortals that we are, we then leap to a singular assumption: Honnold is fearless. This narrative became so prevalent that Honnold finally allowed a cognitive neuroscientist named Jane Joseph to look at his brain in 2016. In particular, she focused on the amygdala, also known as the brain’s fear center. The results were telling but not necessarily surprising. In a nutshell, it was almost impossible to stimulate Honnold’s amygdala. No matter what type of THE RED BULLETIN

disturbing imagery Joseph flashed in front of him, it simply did not fire. That’s the scientific data. Beyond that it’s all speculation. The fact that he wants to free solo 2,900-foot routes tells us that his amygdala could be “cooler” in general. After all, the entire world watched the breathtaking 2018 documentary Free Solo, which shows him completing the first solo ascent of the Freerider route on El Cap. Most regular folks would never consider a similar feat even if they had his same climbing abilities.

But Honnold has always insisted that he is not fearless; he knows what it means to be scared. Instead, he believes that he largely trained the fear out of himself. Does that mean he trained his amygdala too? It’s hard to say—there’s no comparative data from before he began free soloing. “I definitely feel fear like others do and I still fear death,” he says. “I’m just more desensitized to it and better equipped to manage it.” We all have different coping mechanisms for fear, but a lot of us handle it with one of two methods: avoid the scary situations to begin with or overcome the fear by temporarily ignoring it. Obviously, Honnold is well beyond the first and he believes the second wouldn’t be sustainable. “Sure, you can just play loud rock music, eat a cookie, get jacked and hope that you can finish the climb before you get too afraid, but that’s not a long-term solution,” he says. “What do you do the next time— eat three cookies?” Instead, he approaches fear from a place of quiet confidence and—once again—pure logic. We all read about the seemingly death-defying free soloing, but what we don’t see is that he puts in hundreds of hours of roped training on those routes to prepare. By the time he decides to cut the protection and climb ropeless, Honnold has full confidence in his ability to succeed—hard stop. “I think I’ve just gained a deeper appreciation for all of the various flavors of fear,” he tells me. In fact, while filming Alex Honnold: The Soloist VR (see sidebar) this past summer, high above the frigid French Alps, he got a dose of just how it feels 29

FUTURE

If there’s a reoccurring theme in Honnold’s life, it is constant analysis. Decoding Legos. Evaluating climbing routes. Calculating the safest of the risky choices. So it’s logical, then, to believe that his looming future will be based on yet another equation. When you combine his hazardous occupation as the world’s greatest free soloist with his love for his family, what type of future does that equal? After hours of conversation, it has become increasingly clear that even Honnold doesn’t know where he will be in a year. But it’s also clear that he is fully prepared for things to change. “I don’t need to travel and climb fulltime anymore. At a certain point, I’ve done a lot of the things I want to do,” he says. “Now I have a wife and a child soon. Some other things deserve a little more time.” As I gather my belongings into my backpack to head out and catch my flight, Honnold calls both Griffith and me over to assist him in the living room. We’ve rearranged some furniture throughout the morning and he wants to ensure it goes back in its proper place. “Can you help me move this couch?” Honnold asks. “It needs to look exactly the way it did this morning so Sanni doesn’t kill me.” Flavors of fear, indeed. 30

Behind the Scenes with Alex Honnold: The Making of The Soloist

Alex Honnold is certainly no stranger to climbing documentaries, but he tackled filming from a new angle this past summer. The brainchild of esteemed alpinist and filmmaker Jonathan Griffith, the upcoming Alex Honnold: The Soloist VR dives into Honnold’s world of free soloing—all of it filmed with virtual-reality cameras. A small crew of six climbers (including Honnold, Griffith and Red Bull athlete and Swiss mountaineer Nicolas Hojac) journeyed to Europe to follow Honnold as he solo-climbed various routes across the continent. Filming in VR was a new experience for Honnold, but he thoroughly enjoyed it. “I’ve never shot anything in VR, but I like working on new things that are challenging and different,” he says. “This VR project hit the sweet spot for me because it’s interesting and new but also a great way to share climbing in a totally new medium.” The team split their time among three locations: the Italian Dolomites, the French Alps and back in California, where they wrapped up shooting. Honnold knew how technically demanding shooting in VR would be; filming traditional documentaries takes a lot of camera rigging and planning on its own. But for The Soloist, Griffith and his team had to account for the scope of the cameras, too. They had to shoot the scenes from both the top and bottom, as well as nab

a number of close-ups. Not only did this require constant rigging and stealthy movements by camera operators trying to duck out of sight of the 360-degree lenses but also an insane amount of talent and precision to record all of the scenery. Viewers watching the film through their headsets can focus on Honnold climbing upward; turn to the right and watch a bird soaring by; or look down the rock face to see a small pebble falling toward the ground thousands of feet below. To capture all of these nuances on film, small things like the sunlight and cloud movements all need to match up to create a cohesive and immersive viewing experience. “To get all of this to come together in a timely manner and do it for each shot as you rappel down a rock face is quite involved,” Honnold says. I had the chance to view an early cut of The Soloist at Honnold’s house, and “involved” doesn’t even begin to describe the adrenaline that rushed through my body as I experienced Honnold’s perspective of the world. When I removed the VR goggles, I realized I’d physically moved my body about 5 feet from where I’d started and was facing an entirely different direction. I looked up to see both Griffith and Honnold smiling at me. “Pretty cool, right?” Griffith laughed. For folks wondering what it’s like to climb like Alex Honnold, The Soloist answers all those questions. And yes, it is pretty cool. —Heather Balogh Rochfort

RENAN OZTURK

on the other side of the fear divide. Honnold will be the first to say it: He is a rock climber, not a mountaineer. “It’s like scenic tourism for me,” he says. “Some people go on cruises to see beautiful parts of the world, and I do alpinism every once in a while to see beautiful mountains.” But there he was, holding an ice axe while equipped with crampons and mountaineering boots. Honnold picked his way across an alpine ridge while trying to keep up with Swiss climber Nicolas Hojac. Plagued by some faulty gear, he hesitated. His confidence was low and his nerves were high. Finally, Hojac came back to save him. “Nico dropped his backpack, ran down the ridge to give me his ice tool and then comfortably pitter-pattered his way back across the slab,” Honnold laughs. “Meanwhile, I’m clutching two ice tools now and kicking my feet in just trying to survive.” Turns out, for Honnold the high alpine may be a different flavor of fear.

Nicolas Hojac (left) and Alex Honnold take a selfie on Kleine Zinne in the Italian Dolomites. THE RED BULLETIN

Honnold follows Hojac’s lead in a scene from Alex Honnold: The Soloist VR, now playing on Oculus TV. For more info, visit thesoloist-vr.com.

Ready to Rumble

The very best cross-country mountain bikers in the world will get back to business with the start of the 2022 UCI World Cup competition this spring. To get stoked for all the drama—every moment streamed on Red Bull TV—here’s a selection of action photography from the 2021 season, a celebration of skill, power and tenacity. Words PETER FLAX Photography BARTOSZ WOLINSKI/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

THE RED BULLETIN

True grit

In conditions that several news outlets labeled a “mudbath,” 2018 world champion Kate Courtney of the U.S. grinds her way through a tough lap at the World Cup race in Les Gets, France, on July 4, 2021.

THE RED BULLETIN

Good clean fun

After a solid ninth-place finish and a head-to-toe mudbath at the World Cup race in Les Gets, France, in July, Lars Forster of Switzerland is all smiles. A month later, Forster won the European Championships held in Serbia.

THE RED BULLETIN

Power watching

With a fervent crowd cheering him on, Vlad Dascalu strikes out at the UCI World Championships in Val di Sole, Italy, on August 28, 2021. The Romanian narrowly missed the podium, finishing fourth, but came in second at the season’s final World Cup race in Snowshoe, West Virginia. THE RED BULLETIN

Solid flight plan

Tom Pidcock soars at the World Cup event in Les Gets in July. This was the British rider’s first big race since breaking his collarbone in May. His 16th-place finish in the short-track competition was just a taste that his form was returning; later that month he won Olympic gold in Tokyo.

THE RED BULLETIN

Sound of musing

Spain’s Rocío del Alba García Martínez suffers alone at the UCI World Cup race in Leogang, Austria, on June 13, 2021. García Martínez finished ninth in Leogang but went on to win the Spanish national championship in September.

THE RED BULLETIN

Flat-out effort

Evie Richards is justifiably tired after wrapping up a perfect weekend at the UCI World Cup race in Snowshoe, West Virginia, in September 2021. The British rider won both the short-track and crosscountry races, capping a fine year with multiple wins and finishing second overall in the World Cup season standings. THE RED BULLETIN

Control freak

Pauline Ferrand-Prévot rails a tricky downhill pitch at the UCI World Championships in Val di Sole, Italy, in August 2021. The Frenchwoman— the only rider in history to capture world titles in mountain biking, cyclocross and road riding in one season—finished sixth on the day after winning two World Cup races earlier in the 2021 season.

THE RED BULLETIN

Starting strong

Henrique Avancini of Brazil, a two-time Olympian, charges out a frontline start at the UCI World Cup race in Albstadt, Germany, on May 7, 2021. Avancini, who finished 10th in Albstadt, won the World Cup race in Lenzerheide, Switzerland, in September.

THE RED BULLETIN

Rocking out

Austria’s Laura Stigger makes short work of a technical, rocky descent en route to a silver-medal result in the U23 race at the UCI World Championships in Val di Sole. In June, competing with the elite field at the World Cup race in Leogang, Austria, Stigger finished an impressive third. THE RED BULLETIN

The Trailblazer Afsana Nawrozi fled from Afghanistan to Arizona to pursue her dreams—to become an elite cyclist, get a quality education and shape her own destiny. Words JAMES STOUT

Photography JASON PERRY

“I always tell myself I am strong,” says Nawrozi, who was photographed near Sedona, Arizona, on January 23.

Most accomplished as a road racer, Nawrozi finished second in Afghanistan’s national championship in 2020.

eople come from all over the world to ride among the red rock on the trails in Sedona, Arizona. After a few days, most return to where they came from with nothing but memories and maybe a few bruises to remind them of their visit. But for Afsana Nawrozi, who first touched tire to Arizona’s trails in October 2021, Sedona is her new home. Nawrozi, 18, is a gifted road cyclist. In 2019, she qualified for the national team in her native Afghanistan. And the following year she finished second in the national championship. Now, after just a few months of riding the technical chunky trails here in Sedona, the road rider has progressed from a mountain biking novice to training with her school’s advanced group. She likes to ride the Baldwin Trail, she says, proudly showing off her new Santa Cruz Juliana mountain bike, making sure to point out all the matching purple accessories. “At first I crashed, but now when I ride that trail I look back and think, ‘Oh, I crashed there?’ ” she says. “It’s easy now.” Nawrozi has quickly learned that rock gardens are far easier to overcome than the misogyny that is baked into much of Afghan society. As Nawrozi strolls around her high school campus in Sedona, she shows me the scar left from surgery to repair a broken collarbone after a car hit her. “I don’t think it was an accident,” she says. She was harassed so often in Afghanistan, she says, that every ride felt risky. Once, she recalls, she traveled to Bamyan, the heart of Afghan cycling, for a national race. At the end of a training ride, some men pulled up alongside her and threw mud and stones at her. She cried but still raced the next day—and at 15 became the youngest rider selected for the national team. “I always tell myself I am strong,” she says. Afghan girls have been front and center in the justification for two decades of war in that country, but these conversations have often been about them and not with them. Women and girls, Nawrozi among them, embraced the offer of liberty and equality, turning those abstract political notions into bike-race trophies and university degrees. While men fought with guns, young women like Nawrozi fought every bit as hard to liberate themselves. She’s still not sure who she wants to be, but when the question is raised, she holds her hands like scales, motions to one side and says, “Pro bike racer.” Then she looks at the other and says, “Engineer.”

Nawrozi already has gone a long way to pursue her dreams, both academic and athletic. In 2016, she left her family’s village to move to Kabul and live with her sister, who was attending college there. It was in Kabul that she first started cycling seriously. Soon after, she entered a race called Pedal for Change and finished fourth. That result inspired a journey that would eventually bring her to the trails here in Sedona, where she spends her afternoons cleaning chunky technical climbs that numerous enduro bros could be seen walking. Back in her native country, the men who threw stones at her—members of the ultraconservative political organization known as the Taliban—are back in charge, meaning that it would be unsafe to pursue her dreams there. Nawrozi is happy in Sedona—she has her own room and three bikes to choose from on any given day. But that doesn’t mean it has been easy to leave her home and family behind, move across the world and continue her education in a relatively new language. Plus, she’s still trying to master the use of a dropper post.

ver since she took her first ride without training wheels at age 7, Nawrozi has loved the speed and thrill of cycling. Her father bought the little pink bike she learned on. “He has always been my biggest supporter,” she says. Since then, cycling has taken her all over Afghanistan, helped her make friends at home and abroad and become her passion. After entering that first race, she took to the sport quickly and began training with the national team in Bamyan, a city whose province made global headlines in 2001 when the Taliban razed two ancient Buddhas. Nawrozi went on to set several speed records on climbs around Bamyan. Her meteoric rise suffered a setback when she was hit by that car in December 2019—her clavicle was able to be repaired, but her bike was destroyed. She thought her cycling career was over, but Ahmad Farid Noori, who founded the nonprofit organization MTB Afghanistan and is from the same village as Nawrozi, helped her get a new bike. When 2020 began, Nawrozi had hoped to travel and race abroad, representing the future of her country with her teammates. But the pandemic, and then the regime change, altered her plans. Still, her ambitions to succeed remained. In her new home in Arizona, 47

Nawrozi says she wants to race for fun—and to “make cycling a normal thing for women in Afghanistan.”

“In Afghanistan, you have to be an activist first and a cyclist second.” there are far more races to choose from, and she’s taken with the idea of trying the long-distance gravel races that have become hugely popular in the U.S. She’ll race “not just for fun,” Nawrozi says when I ask, but “to make cycling a normal thing in Afghanistan for women.” She also wants to win more trophies like the ones she left behind in Afghanistan. This fusion of athletics and activism is important to her. “In Afghanistan, you have to be an activist first and a cyclist second,” she says. “You have to stand and fight for what you want.” Given the struggles she’s overcome, riding 200 miles on dirt roads doesn’t seem so hard. Nawrozi’s journey to Sedona was a marathon of sorts, too. She left her home and family last summer on a trip that she thought would last only a few days. She’d just been accepted to her dream school in Arizona. Nawrozi took the first flight of her life, to Islamabad, Pakistan, to collect a visa. Her plan was to return to Kabul after a few days, make preparations and then fly to the U.S. for a year of high school followed by a university education. When she set off, “everything was OK, as usual,” she says. “We were still training, and most Fridays we did our long 48

ride from Kabul to Bagram. Sometimes, we’d hear something that made us avoid going that far away from the city, but even when the Taliban attacked some of the provinces, the capital was safe.” The capital didn’t stay safe for long. In August 2021, the chaos and tragedy that ensued in Kabul was beamed onto TV screens across the world, including the one in the guest house in Pakistan where Nawrozi was staying. She worried for her family, her country and her future. The next few weeks were fraught with tension, as Nawrozi struggled with the desire to return home and the very real worry that doing so would mean giving up her educational and sporting dreams. The Taliban made the decision for her by closing the border to Pakistan. “My parents said, ‘Just go, don’t come back,’ ’’ she says. But she had nowhere to go. She was stuck in Islamabad with her Pakistani travel visa running out and the U.S. visa system crumbling under the weight of applications following the fall of Kabul. I first met Nawrozi by email while she was stuck in Pakistan. Her life was completely up in the air, but she conversed easily in English and ended each email with a smiley-face emoticon.

Her happiness, I’d come to learn, is something she’d fought hard for and wasn’t willing to give up. “I am really worried that the Taliban will come to my house and search for my bike and all my achievements,” she said in one of our first email exchanges. “I am sure they’ll destroy all of them.” She was worried about her family, too—especially her father, mother, five sisters and baby brother. (Most of the family has since found safe refuge outside of the country.) Nawrozi stayed in Islamabad for 90 stressful days. She would occasionally sneak out for a furtive run outside—she also has run two marathons—but otherwise she remained in the guest house, waiting for an email from the U.S. Embassy about her passport and hoping her family could find a way out. Then, in October, she finally got an email that her visa had been approved. “I was just so happy,” she says. A few days later she was on a 29-hour marathon from Islamabad to Chicago. Her journey continued to Arkansas before eventually bringing her to the red rocks near Sedona, where she and I spend a chilly Saturday morning petting the horses at her school, lamenting the quality of American tea and discussing what’s next for a talented young bike racer whose favorite books are the autobiographies of Michelle Obama and Malala Yousafzai. THE RED BULLETIN

awrozi was born years after the Taliban was overthrown in 2001, so she’s never known life under the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan—as the Taliban calls its state structure. But she has seen more than her fair share of hardship. She is Hazara, an ethnic minority group in Afghanistan that has been the subject of much discrimination and violence; most Hazara are Shi’a Muslims, putting them at odds with the Taliban. In her new home in Sedona, she won’t have to deal with such persecution, but she will have to navigate the transition to high school (and then university) in a new country, as well as the balance between her academic and athletic dreams. Nawrozi’s bikes were a gift from pro cyclist Starla Teddergreen and her husband, Gino Zahnd, who have been

looking after Nawrozi on her school vacations and helping her adapt to life in the U.S. Over the holidays, Teddergreen and Zahnd rented a house in Sedona and rode with Nawrozi; they went sightseeing—the teenager experienced the strange sensation of seeing her first church with a graphic depiction of the crucifixion—and she worked on landing her first jumps on one of the dozens of trails near the school. She says Zahnd’s Dari is improving rapidly, and she’s been helping them make rice the Afghan way. Now Nawrozi has all the support she could want; everyone who hears her story wants nothing but the best for her. Nawrozi says she’s been struck by how kind people in America have been. But some of that kindness from strangers probably comes because they view her life

Embracing her new opportunities, Nawrozi plans to do road, mountain and gravel races in 2022. THE RED BULLETIN

through the lens of a tragedy that was totally out of her control. In the next few years, she plans to use the control she took back to make sure she’s known for things of her choosing. Sometimes, she says, it’s strange going to sleep alone in her own dorm room at school, and she leaves the light on—she’s used to sharing a room with her sisters. But now that she knows they’re safe, she doesn’t lie awake worrying about them. Her family, she says, is “so happy for me, so, so happy.” There’s lots to adapt to in Arizona, from the food in the dining hall to doing her own laundry to navigating the expanse of indecision that awaits at huge American supermarkets. But she’s embracing each of these choices with the same enthusiasm that she does her sport. When asked which races she wants to enter this year, she laughs. “So many,” she says, contemplating all the road, mountain bike and gravel events she could pack into her summer holiday. Some days, she says, it’s a struggle to find time to both ride and do homework, but her coach says that she seems to manage. One of her cycling heroes is three-time world champion Peter Sagan, not just for his sprinting but also for his technical abilities—and the way he rides up and down stairs on his road bike. Sagan also is famous for his “Why so serious?” tattoo and his apparent ability to both have fun and dominate the sport at the highest level. Nawrozi relates to how he doesn’t seem to take any setback too seriously or let success change him. One of the first Dari phrases Nawrozi ” (pronounced barataught me was “ ka buri). It means “let’s go,” and she says she’s taught other cyclists at her school to say it, too. The phrase seems like a life philosophy as well as a command for a young woman who has embraced every opportunity she is offered. Nawrozi doesn’t know yet where her journey will take her, and she’s OK with that. But wherever it does lead, her bike will go with her, and she’ll be able to feel just like she did at 7 when her dad took the training wheels off that little pink bike. As our day-long interview comes to a close, Nawrozi expresses her own hopes of how people will interpret her story. “I just want people to know that as an Afghan girl, I am so strong,” she says, standing by her bike on an Arizona trail. “I have overcome so many challenges and I am just starting my journey here.” 49

“There’s no reason we can’t have a basketball league in every African country,” says Antonio DePina, who was shot in Cape Verde on January 20.

THE RED BULLETIN

YANICK SILVA

HOME GAME THE RED BULLETIN

How a dreamer from Delaware started a basketball league in Africa—thanks in large part to success on a Netflix reality show and his own entrepreneurial creativity. Words LEE NXUMALO

rowing up in Delaware, Antonio DePina did not know much about his father’s home country. Wilmington—a city not far from Philadelphia—is a world away from the warm, tropical shores of Cape Verde. The only conceptualization DePina had of Africa came from mainstream media, so he never thought that he would visit. But years later, basketball would transport him there. “When I was a kid, it was not cool to go to Africa, so I had no intention to go,” DePina, 27, admits. “I didn’t learn about it in school, and what I saw on TV was the ‘feed a kid in Ethiopia for a dollar a day’ commercials.” DePina showed talent as a hooper, and like many teenagers with talent, he had dreams of playing in the NBA. But after graduating from Lincoln University, a Division II school in Pennsylvania, his chances of being drafted into the league were slim. But he knew that he could still be a professional basketball player. Instead of going the traditional route of getting an agent, DePina showed initiative and researched coaches, managers and owners working within the ecosystem of European basketball. He reached out to 52

more than 500 of them over the summer of 2017 with a video of his highlight reel. By August 2017, he had a signed contract to play in Portugal for Electrico FC. “I went on this website called eurobasket.com to see who coached the teams and who the general managers were. I dedicated myself to going overseas and I was kind of like a mini-detective,” DePina recalls. “I graduated college in May 2017 and from then until August, I was working at the YMCA. Every day, I just emailed and sent messages. Then finally I got a call back in the first week of August from a coach in Portugal who believed in me.” During his time in Europe, DePina primarily played in Spain and Portugal. While there, he met players from all over Africa who had moved to Europe to seek better opportunities, as there are only a few active leagues on the continent. This made DePina more curious about his origins and provided the spark for some big entrepreneurial ideas. In 2019, DePina walked away from playing pro ball and returned to the States. “Playing overseas is great, but I’m a realist, and I knew I wasn’t going to be

playing forever,” he says. “I’m not the best point guard but I got to live my dream.” After a few failed ventures, he launched the Overseas Basketball Connection—an app he says was a “huge success.” He developed the idea for Overseas Basketball Connection while filming for Netflix’s The Circle in August 2019. DePina was a contestant on the hit reality show, where competitors live in separate apartments and vie for popularity digitally without ever meeting in person. After shooting the show for a month, he created a website and released content on YouTube before developing the app, which connects players to pro teams around the world. Netflix released the first season of The Circle in January 2020 and the program was an instant hit. (The show is now produced in four countries and Netflix has committed to a fourth and fifth season in the U.S.) DePina established himself as a popular contestant and saw his following on Instagram grow from 3,000 people to over 140,000. Although he didn’t come close to winning the show, his increased visibility provided a platform to promote Overseas Basketball Connection. THE RED BULLETIN

COURTESY OF ANTONIO DEPINA

DePina presents a trophy to the Plateau Warriors, who won the title in the Cabo Verde Basketball League’s first season in 2021.

THE RED BULLETIN

DePina created an app that connects basketball players to pro teams around the world.

THE RED BULLETIN

YANICK SILVA, COURTESY OF ANTONIO DEPINA

“African players shouldn’t have to go to Europe to play basketball [professionally].” There were challenges along the way. DePina had intended to launch the app when the showed aired, but the release wound up being delayed eight months. “I didn’t know anything about coding or how to make an app, so I hired people to do this for me,” he recalls. “But some of these people took advantage of me.” A developer in India disappeared with $5,000 without producing any code. Then he hired a team of junior developers who couldn’t produce the functions he thought the app needed. Taking matters into his own hands, DePina learned how to code. His app launched just as the world was grappling with COVID-19. However, the pandemic ultimately did not pose a threat to the business—if anything, it propelled it even further. “I think the pandemic kind of helped things,” he says. “People were looking for opportunities overseas because they didn’t know which countries were open, and we guided our players through that.” With the app taking off, DePina set in motion his next big vision: to have a dedicated league in Africa. He visited his father’s home country for the first time in 2020 and identified it as an ideal location for the Cabo Verde Basketball League. It made sense; Cape Verde has a strong basketball culture. The men’s national team recently participated in the 2021 FIBA AfroBasket Tournament, and a few local players have had successful careers in Europe and the United States. DePina says the idea was simple: Rather than help African players get a job overseas, why not just create a league where they could play closer to home? “It makes no sense to keep sending these players off to different places when we can just sign them ourselves,” he says. “When I took the trip to Cape Verde, I thought it was perfect. It’s a four-hour flight to Europe and [the East Coast of] America, so scouts can come here to find talent. And we have perfect weather year round.” Now all DePina needed was money. He approached multiple sponsors as well as the International Basketball Federation (FIBA) and the NBA. But none of these entities wanted to fund the project. THE RED BULLETIN

But DePina had learned how to be self-sufficient—and managed to raise close to $250,000 from camps and combines held across the U.S. To garner momentum and excitement for his new league, he hosted a livestream of the draft on the Overseas Basketball Connection app and it attracted more than 10,000 viewers. Twenty players were picked to help fill six new teams and the first game of the Cabo Verde Basketball League took place in June 2021. Two months later the Plateau Warriors were crowned champions of the new league. But that was not the end of the story—more like the beginning. A second season of DePina’s hand-built league, complete with a new draft, will

begin in June. DePina also has his sights set on developing more leagues in different regions of Africa, starting with his mother’s home country, Liberia. “I’m just gonna keep going,” says DePina. “I want to bring the next league to Liberia and as I go on, I want to bring it to South Africa, Guinea and Mozambique—you know, create my own African league. There’s no reason why we can’t have a basketball league in every African country. Players shouldn’t have to go to Europe to go play basketball [professionally].” DePina pauses to express what’s ultimately fueling his entrepreneurial dreams. “I really love basketball,” he says simply. “If I can do all of that, I would be a happy man.”

A new season of the Cabo Verde Basketball League begins in June.

Roar Emotion

A beast on the bass, the jaguar of jazz fusion, a feline fashion icon—music superstar Thundercat is all these things. But beneath that fuzzy, funny, funk-tastic image is a complex human who fell hard and fast. Here’s what it took for this cat to land on his feet. Words WILL LAVIN

Photography WOLFGANG ZAC 57

“Being able to laugh is one of the best feelings ever. It’s an important part of life, maybe more so than music.” This is a surprising statement when you consider its source—Stephen Lee Bruner, the bass maestro, funk virtuoso and genre-bending producer better known for his alter ego, Thundercat. It’s November 2021 in St. Louis, Missouri, and Bruner is enjoying a rare day off from his five-month North American tour to wax philosophical with The Red Bulletin. But, as they say, time flies when you’re having fun—and this man knows how to have fun. The 37-year-old Angeleno is a musical genius with a sound that flits between jazz-funk fusion, electronica, soul, hip-hop, R&B, psychedelia and genres even further afield, which makes it impossible to categorize, even by his most devoted fans, of whom there are many worldwide. Just as chaotic and creative is his personality; Thundercat is known for his eccentric fashion taste—he’ll team haute couture with a Pikachu backpack—along with popculture geekiness, scatterbrained humor and farcical antics: He once played an hour-long jam session with Canadian indie rocker Mac DeMarco while both were stark naked. And he announced the tour for his 2020 album, It Is What It Is—arguably his most complex, emotionally raw and personal release to date—with an online video in which he simulated making passionate love to a Pokémon Snorlax toy. Our interview takes place a decade after the release of Thundercat’s debut album, 2011’s The Golden Age of Apocalypse. “It’s crazy to think it’s 58

been a solid 10 years,” he says of the anniversary. “It’s trippy because of all the places I’ve been to, psychologically, over the last decade. I remember when it was just me and Austin Peralta rolling around with his keyboards and my bass.” Many things have changed in Bruner’s life since those days spent lugging instruments around with Peralta, his jazz pianist/composer friend, who died in 2012 from viral pneumonia and about whom much of Thundercat’s 2013 album Apocalypse was written. But his lovable, eccentric persona remains present and correct—outwardly at least. He’s still more interested in sitting on his couch, bingewatching cartoons than attending Hollywood’s hottest showbiz parties. “I’m a huge anime nerd,” Bruner says of his obsession with Japanese animation. “That hasn’t changed, and it never will. It’s just now I have money to spend on the things I’m passionate about. Although I have to be careful I don’t blow all my cash on anime.” This low-key approach to celebrity life checks out—when asked about his rider for our cover shoot, Bruner didn’t demand expensive champagne, or M&Ms separated by color; he asked for a bowl of blueberries. If only all rock stars were so unpretentious. It’s easy to forget that beneath the vibrant outfits and the fluffy cat-ear headbands, Bruner is one of the most sought-after instrumentalists, collaborators and producers around. A two-time Grammy-winning artist who has released four albums as Thundercat,

Self-styled: Thundercat is renowned for his eccentric fashion sense, and for this shoot he chose items from his own wardrobe. Here he wears a shirt by Secret Heart, sweater by Gucci and custommade sunglasses. Previous spread: Louis Vuitton Cyclone sunglasses by Virgil Abloh; necklaces by IF & Co., Gucci and RockLove (Star Wars Edition); sweater by Pendleton; shirt by Lazoschmidl; pants and shoes by Adidas. THE RED BULLETIN

“I have to be careful I don’t blow all my cash on anime.”

Tooned in: (left) Thundercat wears a custom-made backpack and Dragon Ball Z tee, glasses by Christian Roth and bracelets by IF & Co.; (right) Bricks & Wood beanie adorned with Gucci brooches, glasses by Alpina and Mutsu jacket by Prospective Flow.

THE RED BULLETIN

“It’s crazy to think it’s been a solid 10 years since that debut album.” he also boasts a client list that reads like a who’s who of popular music—Snoop Dogg, Childish Gambino, Ariana Grande and Erykah Badu are just a handful who have made the call. In 2015, he collaborated with Kendrick Lamar on the rapper’s To Pimp a Butterfly album, helping to deliver what is widely considered to be Lamar’s masterpiece (it’s ranked 19th in Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of All Time” list) and winning his first Grammy, for his work on the track “These Walls.” “How [Lamar] spanned the walls in the verses and where he took it—he went from prison to pussy—I was overwhelmed when I first heard that track,” says Bruner of the song’s complexity. “I didn’t know how to process it, let alone the idea that it was up for a Grammy.”

Laid-back style: Thundercat rests on a Kapital rayonsatin quilted bomber jacket (it folds up into a pillow), wearing Louis Vuitton Cyclone sunglasses and a sweater by Pendleton.

runer was born to be a musician. His father, Ronald Sr., is a veteran drummer who played with the likes of the Temptations, Gladys Knight and Diana Ross and the Supremes; his mother, Pamela, is a flutist and percussionist. Older brother Ronald Jr. is also a drummer and won the Grammy for Best Contemporary Jazz Album in 2011 with the Stanley Clarke Band. And his younger brother, Jameel, played keyboards for L.A. music collective the Internet and is now a solo artist under the name Kintaro. Growing up in the ’90s, Bruner would fight with his brothers for the TV remote. They’d want to watch VHS tapes; he wanted ownership of the screen to play video games. But in the background there was always jazz playing, performed by the likes of Jimmy Cobb, Vinnie Colaiuta, Tony Williams and Billy Cobham, and Bruner was paying close attention. “My brothers thought I wasn’t listening,” he says. “They thought I was just being an obnoxious kid. But music is all-encompassing. I got the message quite early about what it can do. There’s always been something about music that has touched base with me mentally, psychologically and emotionally. Probably even spiritually.” Bruner first picked up a bass guitar at around the age of 4, and as he became more proficient he would practice by playing along to the soundtrack of the 1991 action-comedy film Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the Ooze. It was his love of cartoons and anime that spawned his stage name—a reference to ThunderCats, the popular ’80s cartoon about catlike humanoid warriors. By the early 2000s he was touring the world as part of 63

Hero in a half shell: Thundercat wears a custom-made backpack and tee, glasses by Christian Roth, bracelets by IF & Co., Gucci brooches and a Rolex watch.

THE RED BULLETIN

“multicultural pop group” No Curfew, and in 2002 he joined thrash band Suicidal Tendencies (his brother Ronald Jr. was their drummer at the time). After that, Bruner became a bass player for hire, rising through the ranks of the L.A. music scene alongside childhood friend and jazz paragon Kamasi Washington, who drove them from gig to gig in his beaten-up 1982 Ford Mustang with parts of its interior held together by duct tape. “It’s like we’ve just been big kids this whole time,” he says of Washington. “Like we’re still 15. It’s always been fun for us. We see each other, we laugh, we’ve always got some funny shit to tell each other about life.” It was a chance meeting with L.A. rapper and producer Steven Ellison, aka Flying Lotus, at the South by Southwest festival in Austin, Texas, in the late 2000s that pushed Bruner’s music to the next level. Ellison signed Thundercat to his independent record label, Brainfeeder, and has released every one of his albums for the past decade, but he’s proved to be far more than just a label boss. The two producers have become a formidable musical pairing, collaborating on a variety of projects over the years, including their own individual albums

“Music is allencompassing. I got the message early about what it can do.” and the score for Donald Glover’s hit TV show, Atlanta. “We’re like Batman and Robin,” says Bruner. “I’ve been swinging around doing a bunch of weird shit while he’s just in the shadows.” Popping his head out from the shadows for one particularly crucial moment, Ellison encouraged Bruner to start singing. “He saw something that I didn’t,” says Bruner. “I had a conversation with J. Cole recently. He was picking my brain, and there was this moment where I realized just how much I trust Lotus. When I think back to that moment, that’s what I felt: I trusted my friend, and he was right.”

wards, money, creative projects pouring in from every direction, a long list of music icons he can now call friends—to an outsider, Bruner’s life would appear to have improved with each passing year. But nothing is ever quite as it seems, and the reality of the last few years has been hard for him. As well as releasing an album during a global pandemic and ending a long-term relationship, Bruner mourned the loss of one of his closest friends, Mac Miller, the Pittsburgh rapper and producer who died from an accidental drug overdose in September 2018. The pair were not only fierce friends but frequent collaborators. Their most memorable team-up was a performance for NPR’s Tiny Desk Concerts series, recorded just a month before Miller’s death. The story surrounding the session is now legendary: Bruner was on a European tour when he received a message from Miller asking him to fly over and perform. This would mean Bruner not only canceling multiple tour dates but flying from Eastern Europe to Washington, D.C., for what was essentially just a 17-minute gig. He did it. “[Mac] wanted to feel comfortable in front of everybody,” Bruner has since said. “He wanted me to be there beside him.” When you watch the intimate performance, their love for each other is clear—acutely in sync and in their element, they joke back and forth like blood brothers. Thundercat, sporting red-and-gold Muay Thai boxing shorts and pink braids, switches between rattling a shaker and playing his custom Ibanez sixstring bass. Miller adopts an almost Frank Sinatra– like persona; a suave operator with a nervous disposition, he playfully fumbles through segues with a clownish temperament before snapping back into performer mode to deliver the vocal parts. “That was a special moment,” Bruner remembers. “I never 65

missed a chance to tell Mac I loved him. And that’s because I really did.” But as magical as the moment was, it’s one Bruner admits he struggles to rewatch. He does, however, find solace in the appreciation others have for it: “Whenever I see photos or clips from it, it makes me happy. I saw that someone got a tattoo of the moment where Mac was like, ‘Thundercat on the shaker!’ That made me smile. That concert is like my own personal photo book. It’s the one moment I got to share with my friend that the whole world could see.”

hundercat’s 2020 album It Is What It Is provided an opportunity for Bruner to channel his grief over Miller’s death through his art. A space-age fusion of jazz, funk, hip-hop and pop produced in collaboration with Flying Lotus, the release is an “open-ended love letter” to his friend. 66

“I’m still learning about myself, and I’m going to continue to get better.” “Albums are always an intense, painful experience,” says Bruner, “but that particular one changed my life.” The title represents an acceptance that death is an unavoidable reality for us all. It’s also a nod to Miller himself, who used the phrase in the lyrics of “What’s the Use?” a track on the last album the rapper released before his passing, 2018’s Swimming, which features Bruner on bass. On the title track, “It Is What It Is,” Bruner sings, “Hey, Mac,” right before Miller’s voice responds with a lonely “Woah.” “It was all I had,” says THE RED BULLETIN

Bruner, recalling the recording process. “I had something to say in that moment, but to hear [the track] was so polarizing for me. I couldn’t listen to it without emotionally breaking down every time. But that’s just what it was, up until the last minute of saying goodbye to Mac.” The album’s creation took a huge toll on Bruner, both mentally and physically. He had fallen into depression. He wasn’t eating or sleeping right, and he was using alcohol to numb the pain. The funloving, Gucci-sporting boy wonder who could light up any room was almost unrecognizable. It wasn’t easy to turn to music—the thing that connected him and Mac—for solace. “It almost felt like a ghost in the machine, or muscle memory,” Bruner recalls. “Making music through that period, I don’t know how I did it. On one hand it’s what I do; on the other it was a lot to process.” Bruner was forced to face some hard truths about his lifestyle. “Drinking had given me comfort for years,” he explains. “I would often just wash over it, and the degree to which I did scared people. I’ve watched multiple friends who’ve died in front of me, all in such a volatile way—from Austin to Zane Musa [the famed jazz-funk saxophonist who died from a fall in 2015, at 36] to Tim Williams [Bruner’s replacement as bass guitarist of Suicidal Tendencies, who died in 2014] to Mac. I had to take it seriously. I could see what was going to happen. It felt like if I washed over it again, I was going to die. I had to hit the reset button.”

Feline fashion: Ever the brand junkie, Bruner breaks down the labels he tapped for this unique outfit. THE RED BULLETIN

fter this crucial realization, Bruner introduced some vital self-care measures into his daily routine. First, he stopped drinking. “I only had two options: turn to the bottle or not,” he explains. “It felt like that decision was already carved in stone for me at that point.” He also went vegan and started therapy. Then, when the pandemic forced the world to shut down, Bruner took up boxing and kickboxing. “I’ve never been a person to participate in physical activities. This is maybe the first time that I’ve ever been this serious about something other than illustration and playing bass.” Something else that helped was listening to Drake’s most recent album, Certified Lover Boy. On the day of its release in September last year, Bruner tweeted, “Sometime it take a Drake album to get you back in focus.” The Toronto-born star has often faced criticism from hip-hop fans who view his emotional, introspective brand of rap as “soft,” but Bruner recognizes a kinship in that vulnerability. “Drake will always remind you that you’re not alone,” he explains. “Some cats put out an album and you know what to expect—it’s going to shoot the club up. Drake will pour his heart and soul into his music, and you can hear it. It’s why people make fun of him. But he’s baring his soul in his music.” Certified Lover Boy proved to be just the motivation Bruner needed to reignite his own sense of purpose.

“It knocked me out of the weird flight pattern that I was in with trauma,” he says. “Every time I’d look at stuff, I’d see it with this damaged set of eyes. It’s hard to find a way out of that emotionally. Hearing Drake’s album, it felt like, ‘I feel you, bro.’ It was a reminder that I’m not alone.” Now three years sober, Bruner is in a much better space. As he prepares for a series of tour dates in Europe at the end of March, the enigmatic, goofball persona has returned. But beneath it all, Bruner is a changed man. Does he think he’ll ever drink again? “I don’t know,” he replies. “It’s been a long three years. I don’t feel the same about it anymore. There’s a part of me where it’s still related to the trauma, but at the same time I’m just kind of like, ‘I’ll deal with that when I get there.’ ” Just a few days before Bruner’s interview with The Red Bulletin, Silk Sonic—the funk supergroup comprising Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak— released their debut album, An Evening with Silk Sonic, which features a collaboration with Thundercat. His velvet-textured bass licks and crooner-like vocals can be heard on “After Last Night,” a love-drunk ballad that also stars Parliament-Funkadelic bass legend Bootsy Collins. This was Bruner’s first time working with Mars but one of many collaborations with .Paak, whom he met over a decade ago when the two of them played together in the backing band for progressive neofunk trio the Sa-Ra Creative Partners. As for Collins, the innovative bassist who rose to prominence in the ’70s, playing alongside the likes of James Brown and George Clinton, Bruner says working with him was “a full-circle moment.” He recalls one of the Silk Sonic sessions where he got to hold Collins’ iconic rhinestone-encrusted, starpatterned “Bootzilla” glasses, as featured on the cover of Bootsy? Player of the Year, the 1978 album by Bootsy’s Rubber Band. “They’re iconic not just because they’re Bootsy’s,” says Bruner, “but because of where they come from and what they represent in the art. To be able to hold the original pair was really good for my soul. They inspired me to be more myself and not be shy about it at all.” They say a cat has nine lives. At the age of 37, Bruner has certainly experienced enough to fill that quota, and along the way he’s lost more soulmates than many people would be fortunate enough to find. He’s also achieved more in his career than many artists could ever dream of. But Thundercat isn’t ready to rest on his laurels just yet, nor to surrender to the arrogance that can plague those who have become wildly successful, especially given everything he’s endured in recent years. “I’m still learning about myself,” he says, “and I’m going to continue to get better.” Thundercat has given himself a second chance, and he’s not about to squander it. Thundercat’s It Is What It Is North American tour kicks off at Empower Field at Mile High in Denver on July 23; theamazingthundercat.com/tour 67

King, 32, was photographed for The Red Bulletin in Santa Monica, California, on January 24. His discipline, krump, is known for its energetic moves.

P M U R K ING K ncer a d , e d a n a dec ha s crushed a h t e r For mo utrage” King nd the world, “O ou Da r r e n m p e t i t i o n s a r f o c u s e d o n ’s co krump hese days, he etic art form but t e n e r g ts p r i n c i p l es s i h t g h e l p i n n d s h a r i n g i ti o n . a ra evolve—th a new gene y ATIBA JEFFERSON wi raph Ph otog T CELINE Words

EO - B L O

C KE Y

THE RED BULLETIN

I Rage, as he’s known to his friends and competitors, has won dance battles around the world. THE RED BULLETIN

t’s a winter’s day at the beach in Southern California— meaning it takes no time before professional dancer Darren “Outrage” King peels off his jacket, emblazoned with the words “Death By Style.” His arms are taut after 15 years as a street-style practitioner. In the two years since the pandemic hit and freestyle battles ground to a halt, he’s taken up boxing and Muay Thai to keep his mind occupied and his body fit. Onlookers may not realize they’re witnessing a world-class master of his discipline, krump, a form of hip-hop dance known for its highly energetic, expressive and aggressive movements. Under the watchful eyes of a photo crew, he now moves his outstretched arms over his head and his feet slide back together with a subtle lock. The sand underfoot makes a frightful sound in protest, but the coarse grains are no match for his smooth control. Beneath the canopy of an impossibly blue sky, he slows down, repeats and then speeds up this motion several times for the camera, as if someone hit the forward/rewind button on an old VHS remote. “Fair Trade” by Drake wafts through the warm air as King chest-pops and crouches like a seasoned pugilist to this vibey strain of hip-hop. This calm abruptly ends when a neoncolored bicycle approaches with a blaring boom box. The music is ear-splitting, distorting the bass and rendering whatever song it’s blasting barely audible. As he pedals along, the rider yells out a merry greeting at us. Rage breaks momentarily from his krump pose and cracks a smile. “I love that!” he laughs. The 32-year-old is relishing everything about this moment in the sun. Rage—as he is known to his friends and competitors—grew up in Southern California, so trips to the beach used to be a common occurrence, but about a year ago he bought a townhouse with his girlfriend and moved to Las Vegas. These days he’s more landlocked. It’s been three years since Rage’s last big dance battle and maybe more since he

felt that out-of-body experience, that elusive high that dancers at his level of competition will chase. Psychologists call it the flow state—when you’re so immersed in an activity that everything else dissipates and you reach a heightened state of enjoyment. For competitors, this is the moment the pressure falls away, allowing them to perform better. Artists can access a level of creativity close to godliness. In krump, some dancers have described it as a kind of channeling—of their ancestors.

rump emerged from the gritty streets of South Los Angeles in the mid-1990s. The style was born partly in reaction to gangsta rap—a genre of music known for recounting the violent quotidian of its performers and the glorification of their way of life. At the time, cities like Compton and Inglewood struggled with the impacts of guns, violence and poverty. Krump is credited to co-creators and South L.A. residents Ceasare “Tight Eyez” Willis and Jo’Artis “Big Mijo” Ratti. The duo invented krump in the early 2000s as a more aggressive form of clowning—an energetic dance created by Thomas “Tommy the Clown” Johnson, who would perform at children’s birthday parties in L.A. Both dance styles precipitated a desire to get youth off the streets and keep them from falling into gangs. Sometimes referred to as K.R.U.M.P., the acronym stands for Kingdom Radically Uplifted Mighty Praise. In one of his instructional videos, Tight Eyez proclaims, “There is only one creator of krump and that is God.” But krump also taps into a deeper spirituality for the African diaspora. In the 2005 documentary Rize, filmmaker David LaChapelle compares the face markings on krumpers to African tribal markings and demonstrates their various similarities through jump cuts between dancers in urban settings and African warriors in dusty, sub-Saharan backdrops. Both groups stomp, chest-pop and make these jerky but controlled arm swings— 71

like warriors with spears in battle— suggesting a deep-rooted kinship that crosses oceans and time. The popularity of Rize helped bring this lively but largely unknown street dance into the mainstream. Soon there were krumpers appearing in music videos with Madonna and Missy Elliott. Lil’ C, one of the krumpers featured in Rize, became a judge on the reality show So You Think You Can Dance. In less than a decade, krump caught on around the world and became codified as a legitimate art form like other aspects of hip-hop, dance and street culture. Even if the word “krump” isn’t part of your vernacular, you’ve probably experienced elements of it in popular culture, whether it was watching dance competition shows or HBO’s Lovecraft Country, which brought the dance to life with nightmarish results in Episode 8. In it, two characters walk knock-kneed with popping shoulder movements and arm gestures that are common in krump. The racial aspects of krump’s roots are undeniable. Black practitioners around the world have tapped into the history of slavery and oppression that’s folded into the dance. The flow state for them is sometimes a transgenerational communion with their ancestors. For Rage, krump was something he did just for fun, at least in the beginning. The first time he encountered this particular flavor of expressive dance, he was in the eighth grade and attending a performing arts school in San Diego. “I was at a suburban strip mall one day and there was a bunch of kids gathered there,” he recalls. There was such a commotion he naturally thought a fight must have broken out. “Usually when you have a large gathering of people of color like that there’ll be police or security, but this was my first experience being outside with a large group and not having any police break things up.” As Rage walked toward the crowd, he heard music and then saw other kids doing these energetic dance moves. “They had loudspeakers and were playing hiphop,” he says. “I didn’t know what it was called.” It turns out they were clowning. As someone who had always enjoyed mimicking dance routines he saw on TV, Rage’s interest was piqued. 72

When he was very young, Rage loved spending time with his grandfather watching James Brown concert videos. “I noticed that James Brown would do these dance breaks the way bands do guitar solos,” he explains. “[Brown] would take two minutes from his singing just to do a dance solo. James Brown, Ginuwine, all those cats—I would try and imitate them.” But the first dance move Rage perfected was Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, and the music video for “Smooth Criminal” was a personal favorite. “It kept me so intrigued,” he says, spellbound by the choreography, Jackson’s facial expressions, the narrative arc of the nine-minute video and, of course, the moonwalk. “I liked ‘Thriller’ too,” he chuckles, “but I was also a little scared of it.” Rage would often get up and perform these moves at block parties and family gatherings in San Diego. A natural performer, he noticed early on that he liked the attention. “When my aunties would ask me to dance, I was never scared to get out there,” he says. “And even back then, I felt like I would do what the song wanted me to do.” His musical tastes were already eclectic in middle school, where he performed in plays, sang in choir and played bass guitar. “I was fortunate to go to a performing arts school with a bunch of different cultures,” he says, “so at that time I was listening to Hawthorne Heights, Panic! at the Disco, Queen, Disturbed and System of a Down on one side—then on the other it was like Jay-Z, Busta Rhymes and Nas.” The genre separation appears black and white, but Rage straddled each side. “I think I got the best of both cultures being able to listen to and understand rock ’n’ roll, punk, emo and then being able to listen to hardcore hiphop, ’80s-style boom bap, the current boom bap and then radio hip-hop.” All this would play into his dance style later. Growing up, Rage enjoyed a stable (but not stationary) childhood with younger twin sisters. His mother was a probation officer and his father was in the military, so the family moved around a lot. Rage was born in Kansas, and when he was 4 they moved to Germany, followed by a stint in Washington before THE RED BULLETIN

Rage grew up emulating the dance moves of James Brown and Michael Jackson and would perform at block parties and family gatherings.

“When my aunties asked me to dance, I was never scared to get out there. Even back then, I felt like I would do what the song wanted me to do.” THE RED BULLETIN

The diversity of krump drew Rage in when he was in high school: “It attracted people you never would have thought of—people you would not think were even into dance.”

THE RED BULLETIN

landing in Southern California. The constant relocating made it difficult for him to foster strong bonds and lasting friendships. By the time Rage reached high school, his family was living in Riverside, California. One day he noticed some dancers at school and recognized one of them from an earlier encounter. (“His name was Gabe Sanders, and he became my best friend,” he says.) Guys performed alongside girls. “I was like ‘Wow, this is for everybody!’ ” he says. “I was doing sports at the time—basketball and football—and you know it was cool and all, but here you have girls and guys doing it.” There was also a multicultural aspect to it that attracted him: “Black, white, Asian, Mexican were doing it as well. And they were all just as dope. I wanted to dance and be in that limelight, but it also drew me in because of all the different cultures.” Rage was inspired by how people were taking and giving back to the culture. “It’s an amazing kind of energy that I’ve never experienced doing anything else,” he says with a smile. Not long after, he quit his position as wide receiver on his high school football team. “The chance of being a professional football player was so slim anyway,” he says only half joking, aware that the odds of being a professional krump or freestyle dancer were virtually nonexistent at the time. But everyone around him loved what he was doing. He describes the different people who would watch them dance in high school: “It attracted people you never would have thought of— the cool kids, the football players and cheerleaders—people you would not think were even into dance. The teachers loved it, and parents, too.” His own parents, however, were confounded. “They couldn’t see the sense of it,” he laughs. “I mean, we didn’t even know what we were doing. There’s probably zero money in this, but we loved it.” It’s at this moment that Rage professes he’s a Scorpio. “I’m going to do whatever I want,” he says, his playful tone turning serious. “Nobody can tell me. I have no problems listening, and I got to take everything into consideration. But I was keen on this.” He wanted to krump—and THE RED BULLETIN

Beyond dance, Rage also has his own fashion label, called Death By Style. Here he sports one of the jackets from his line.

THE RED BULLETIN

“If you wanted to be a part of the scene, you had to show up. If you missed one week, the style would have changed the next week.” he had no idea what would come of it— but he secretly hoped that there might be some kind of a career for him in dance. After graduating high school, Rage did battles around Southern California. “It was just for respect, you know, for the streets,” he says, but in 2010 he formally entered How the West Was Won, a professional dance competition, where he competed in its first-ever krump category—and won. After the show he was offered an all-expenses-paid trip overseas. “ ‘We want to bring this to Japan,’ they told me. They wanted me to teach my style of krump there,” he beams. “When I told my parents, they didn’t believe it was a thing!” By 2012, krump wasn’t as big as other street-dance styles, but there was a steady stream of informal gatherings that were creative, cathartic and vital for the local scene. The 818 Session, held every Wednesday night at a strip-mall parking lot in North Hollywood, was legendary. OG krumpers like Lil’ C and Big Mijo took turns performing inside a circle. “It was super sick!” Rage exclaims, though he admits he was more interested in seeing his friends and peers battle at these sessions. They would stay out all night dancing. At these sessions, krump was often a physical manifestation of the frustration and anger the dancers were feeling in that moment. Rage explains that if someone had a bad day, you could see it in their dance in creative ways. It was a form of release that made them feel better. As a result, it was always evolving. Today, anyone can learn the basics of krump by watching YouTube or scrolling through social media, but back then you had to pull up in your car and be there. “Nobody had really good cameras for YouTube,” Rage explains. “If you wanted to be a part of the scene, you had to show up. It was all word-of-mouth. People weren’t teaching classes. If you missed one week, the style would have changed the next week. You had to be there and be present. If you weren’t, you were behind.” During this period he formed a friendship with Marquisa Gardner, aka Miss Prissy, a classically trained ballerina and one of the krumpers featured in Rize. “If there was anyone who had noticed my THE RED BULLETIN

style of dancing as a hybrid and gave me the chance to shine, it was Miss Prissy. At that time, she had just finished doing the music videos with Madonna [“Hung Up” and “Sorry”], so she was taking krump and giving it a different platform.” He remembers going to Miss Prissy’s house and staying for days or sometimes weeks just to be around her and observe how she carved out a career in dance. She became a mentor for many dancers trying to forge a similar path. “She didn’t take everybody, but if she liked you, she would take you under her wing,” says Rage, who is still friends with her today. “She definitely paved the way for a lot of people in the game. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

t’s been quite the roller-coaster ride for Rage over the past decade, traveling the world as an ambassador of sorts for Team Krump. As fun and rewarding as it’s been, like any job, it hasn’t been without its challenges. He mentions how ego and testosterone can fuel so much of the battling culture. The judges’ decisions can be so arbitrary. He talks about feeling dejected and questioning why he was constantly pushing his body to a physical breaking point. There was also the pressure of going overseas and the expectation to bring the goods to local dance communities. And of course, in battles there’s always a loser. “It is gambling!” he says of battle culture. “You got to put $20 in and hope 77

“Krump gives voice to a lot of people who feel like they don’t have a voice.” you hit the jackpot. And if you don’t, you’re going home super broke.” About five years ago, Rage found himself bored while judging a krump competition in Las Vegas. The dance moves seemed tired, but worse still, he says that “everyone looked the same, dressed the same, had the same facial expressions and danced to the same tracks.” When he surveyed the room, everybody else looked equally disinterested. “I don’t want to look like that. I don’t want to look like I’m in here because someone told me how to be,” he says. And that’s when he had an epiphany. “I’m like, I got to change it up,” he says. “I feel like I’m getting spoon-fed the same thing over and over. So I broke that mold.” After his judging wrapped for the day, he vowed to do things differently during his own battle later that evening. Tired of constantly having people “shove foundation down his throat and talk of what the style needs to look like,” Rage completely threw out the rule book and freestyled his entire krump battle. He engaged with the audience, looked them in the eye, trash-talked at them—and everyone sat up and paid attention. It was the most fun and free he’d ever felt dancing. And that’s how he’s been doing it ever since. After that breakthrough moment, he won more than a dozen competitions between 2017 and 2018. “From then until when the pandemic hit, I was everywhere,” he says. “So many battles. I was just being me. I was traveling overseas, winning battles and teaching.” He spent months in Korea and Japan and made several trips to Europe. And he was regularly attending dance sessions and gatherings in L.A. Rage wasn’t as concerned about winning anymore; he just wanted to have a good time dancing. (In fact, he says he learned more from the battles he lost than the ones he won.) His girlfriend of three years, Jaylene Mendoza, who’s also a dancer, nudged him to promote himself more on social media and try out for different things like commercials and TV shows. He did a bunch of music videos, appeared in ad campaigns for Gap and Puma and even had a stint on the Netflix show Dear White People, alongside Jaylene. The couple played a pair of 78

dancers in the final season and still get checks for residuals. “I don’t mean to make it about the money, but it matters,” he says. Still, he has a soft spot for freestyle battles. So when he was picked as a wildcard to participate in the 2021 Red Bull Dance Your Style World Final in Johannesburg, South Africa, in December, he was thrilled. After more than 80 qualifying events around the globe, the final in Johannesburg would feature battles between the world’s best street dancers, and Rage saw this opportunity as a culmination of everything that he’d been doing up to that point. But then the World Final was canceled due to public health concerns and international travel restrictions, and Rage missed out on the chance to feel that feeling again—that higher state of consciousness. “Plus, it’s the motherland,” he says. “I’ve never been, so just to be there and get a taste of that cultural essence would have been phenomenal.” Trying not to sound too disappointed, he adds: “But I know when it does happen, it will be 10 times bigger.”

he last few years have been tough, especially for those in dance. But Rage is enjoying his new home in Las Vegas. It’s a change of scenery, and with the lower cost of living it’s also less stressful. He’s excited about launching a new collection for his own clothing brand, Death By Style. His parents, who initially couldn’t understand why he’d moved to Nevada, have been visiting him and warming up to it. More importantly, the dance scene there is young, and Rage feels he can help develop it. Three times a week Rage teaches at the Rock Center for Dance—a premier training studio for adults and kids—but he claims that he’s the one who is learning how to do pirouettes from the little ballerinas in his class. He regrets not having studied ballet or jazz when he was younger. It wasn’t an issue of money—he feels sure his mother would have obliged him—but because he was never open to the idea. When he teaches his fluid style of krump and hip-hop, which he feels can simply be classified under the umbrella of “dance,” he is never didactic. He wants his students to be open, to trust their instincts, learn to improvise and put their own personality into the steps he teaches

them. “Everyone dances from a different place,” he says, acknowledging that people have different body types and strengths— and different reasons for wanting to dance. “At the end of the day, you don’t want robots or textbook dancers. You want people who understand the feeling.” And he remembers how he came to krump when it was in the midst of breaking away from clowning. “Clowning still has a special place in my heart, but evolution is inevitable. Either you stay back or you evolve with it.” Go down the YouTube rabbit hole and you’ll uncover tons of krump how-to videos, where many people posture that “krump is life.” At this mention, Rage shakes his head, dismissing the hyperbole, then says quietly: “I think life is life. And I think life is what you make it.” To him, krump has afforded him a certain freedom, a way of life, enduring friendships, a larger global community. But the key to all that, he says, “is being able to do and say what you mean in a truthful and artistic way.” “Obviously some people have had it harder than others, and for them it was an escape from reality, I get that,” he says, referring to those in the scene who’ve struggled with oppression. “[Krump] gives voice to a lot of people who feel like they don’t have a voice. It gives light to people who feel like they could never have light. Krump used to be an escape for me, but I don’t look at it as an escape anymore. It’s a presence. It’s a feeling. It’s an energy.” At this point, Rage has been talking about himself for an hour or so. When he first sat down after spending time at the beach, he sung sonorously into the tape recorder, joking about landing a record deal. But now he’s fallen silent, reaching to find a way to describe something that began as a way to hang out with friends but evolved into something deeper for him as an adult. Now, krump is a mental state of being that informs his life, and he wants to share all this knowledge with a younger generation because of its potential for change. “I wish people did it for us when we were growing up,” he says. After saying his goodbyes to the photo crew, Rage makes his way to the car with Jaylene for the long drive back to Las Vegas. Tomorrow he has classes to teach and young minds to mold. THE RED BULLETIN

Three times a week, Rage teaches at the Rock Center for Dance in Las Vegas—a premier training studio for adults and children.

guide Get it. Do it. See it.

PAINT THE TOWN RED

Dallas is home to a rich tapestry of art museums, galleries and thriving culture— sometimes in the most unexpected of places. Words LEE ESCOBEDO

GETTY IMAGES

With a thriving arts scene, Dallas has transformed into an alluring creative hub over the past decade.

THE RED BULLETIN

G U I D E

Do it

An example of the kind of work that can be found at the Dallas Art Fair, this piece by Mexican artist Fernanda Brunet was featured last year.

ure, Austin gets all the grabby national headlines, but there’s another cultural powerhouse in the Lone Star State that deserves some shine. Thanks to explosive growth and a thriving arts scene, Dallas has transformed into an alluring creative hub over the past decade. Today, the city is home to world-class museums and high-end galleries, and every spring, it becomes the focal point of the Texas contemporary art world with a fair that attracts artists, curators and collectors from around the world. From April 21 to 24, the Dallas Art Fair, located in the massive Fashion Industry Gallery in downtown, features thousands of artworks. The fair also attracts a number of satellite exhibitions scattered across North Texas, so there’s no better time to gorge on a visual feast. Just around the corner from the Fashion Industry Gallery is the nexus of the city’s Arts District: the Dallas Museum of Art. Picasso, Monet, Van Gogh can all be found here, plus robust collections from across the world that span thousands of years. Now through May 15, the first-ever solo exhibit of works by contemporary artist Naudline Pierre—known for her brightly colored paintings of supernatural beings—is on display.

A couple miles east of the DMA you’ll find the Dallas Contemporary, the crown jewel of the Design District. The modern art museum focuses on international and women artists with an edgy aesthetic, and the building’s vast exhibition space is perfect for dynamic installations that encourage interaction. (For contemporary fans, the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, designed by Japanese architect Tadao Ando, also warrants a detour.) Dallas’s flourishing arts scene also offers a huge variety of galleries. Less than a mile from the Dallas Contemporary is the Conduit Gallery, one of the city’s oldest and most prestigious purveyors. This women-run institution displays upcoming and established artists from Texas and around the world. Two artist highlights are Heyd Fontenot’s figurative nudes and Stephen Lapthisophon’s installations inspired by language, dirt and food. Across from the Design District on the other side of Trinity River, you’ll find 500X Gallery, an artist-run co-op in operation since 1978. Over the last four decades, this experimental collective has routinely mounted exhibitions of works by queer and BIPOC artists.

For those who want to see fine art while perusing upscale shops (Balenciaga, Gucci, Louis Vuitton and dozens more), NorthPark Center (about seven miles northeast of downtown) hosts more than 150 works for public viewing, including large-scale sculptures by KAWS, Jonathan Borofsky and Joel Shapiro. No trip to Dallas is complete without an exploration of its diverse neighborhoods, many of them fueled by the city’s rich immigrant cultures. There’s plenty of shopping and highend restaurants in Bishop Arts, a single-street mini neighborhood in Oak Cliff filled with vintage shops, records stores, coffeehouses and cocktail bars. Just a half mile south you’ll run into Jefferson Boulevard, a Mexican mercantile street. Here you might catch one of the “Sunday Cruises,”

a celebration of lowrider culture, family and hip-hop music. The boulevard is also home to the Texas Theatre, a historical landmark made infamous as the site where Lee Harvey Oswald was arrested. These days the theater shows a selection of indie films and big-budget blockbusters and hosts dynamic concerts with local and touring bands. For more live music, Deep Ellum is a historic epicenter for the blues. Legends like Blind Lemon Jefferson and Huddie “Lead Belly” Ledbetter put Deep Ellum on the map starting in the early 1900s, and today the neighborhood is an amalgamation of good and bad graffiti, bottle-service bars, trendy restaurant and corporate amphitheaters. But there’s still plenty of heart and soul in Deep Ellum, specifically found in smaller clubs like Armoury D.E., Three Links and Ruins.

Dallas Museum of Art

You can find more than 24,000 works at the Dallas Museum of Art.

THE RED BULLETIN

Dallas The sleek exterior of Japanese restaurant Uchi in Dallas.

DALLAS ART FAIR, DMA, UCHI DALLAS(2), THE ADOLPHUS

Uchi is helmed by James Beard Award–winning chef Tyson Cole.

Where to Eat Chef Fino Rodriguez is the mastermind behind Taquero, an elevated taqueria known for using premium ingredients to craft delectable tacos. You can’t go wrong with the pio pio (chicken marinated in achiote paste) or the pulpito (baby octopus). Hidden in the back of Xamán Café is Ayahuasca, a Gothic speakeasy that’s an immediate sensory trip: Think slithering incense, pulsating South American house music and plenty of candlelight. The food menu is inspired by central Mexico, with offerings like red fish ceviche and squash blossoms stuffed with braised rabbit, flashfried in maize flour. At Petra & the Beast, chef Misti Norris serves a unique tasting experience with an emphasis on foraging, fermenting and wholeanimal cookery. Her Saturday dinners ($135, by reservation only) have become a thing of legend, but patrons can order à la carte without reservations the rest of the week. Her charcuterie board with six house-made meats is a must-have for all carnivores.

THE RED BULLETIN

With locations also in Austin and Houston, the Japanese restaurant Uchi is arguably one of the best dining experiences in Texas, helmed by chef and owner Tyson Cole, a James Beard Award winner. The expansive menu offers hot and cold tastings, makimono, yakimono, tempura, sushi and sashimi in an elegant atmosphere with top-notch service. Pro tip: Arrive between 3 and 7 p.m. for happy hour to enjoy Cole’s creations at a discounted rate. Where to Shop Visit Centre on any given day and you might run into Nelly, Raekwon or the queen of Dallas, Erykah Badu. That’s because this streetwear store sells exclusive Nikes only available here, along with a deft selection of Instagramworthy releases for any serious sneakerhead. One of the few BIPOCowned indie bookstores in North Texas, the Poets Bookshop is owned and operated by writer Marco Cavazos, who recently published a book of poetry, Some Notes on Love, under his in-house imprint, Word Rebels

Press. It’s known as a local gathering spot for Texas writers and poets to trade work and talk books. Where to Stay The chic Joule Hotel, housed inside a neo-Gothic structure built in 1927, features a stunning private art collection from the property’s billionaire owner, Tim Headington, with works by Tony Cragg, Richard Phillips, Andy Warhol and Ellsworth Kelly all on display, as well as occasional guest artists via collaborations with prestigious New York galleries such as Karma. Guests also have access to the city’s best cocktail bar,

Midnight Rambler, where hours can fly by as you listen to funk and soul deep cuts while sipping mezcal. In 1912, Anheuser-Busch co-founder Adolphus Busch opened the city’s first luxury hotel, and today, the Adolphus Hotel remains an elegant throwback where guests receive the royal treatment. The Beaux Arts hotel, modeled after a Germanic castle, has hosted U.S. presidents as far back as Warren G. Harding and British royalty, including Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip. For a stay in one of Dallas’s artsy neighborhoods, head to the Cedars District and book a room at the Canvas. The boutique hotel offers sleek, loft-style rooms and a rooftop bar that boasts unbeatable views of the Dallas skyline. Naturally, with a name like Canvas, the rooftop lounge also houses a collection of works by local artists.

The inviting lounge at the Adolphus Hotel.

G U I D E

Do it Since 2013, Rusch has organized Rebecca’s Private Idaho, a gravel race in Sun Valley that combines adventure, community and social impact.

TRAIN LIKE A PRO

“I’M THE ONLY R ONE WHO CAN RESCUE ME” Mountain bike legend Rebecca Rusch reveals how she trains to go the distance. Words JEN SEE

ebecca Rusch is among the most decorated athletes in endurance mountain biking. In her career, the so-called Queen of Pain has won seven world titles and four Leadville Trail 100 mountain bike races. She’s also a force on a gravel bike, with multiple wins at Unbound Gravel in Kansas. Recently, she changed her job title—from pro athlete to explorer—to reflect who she is on the bike. Deep curiosity inspires Rusch, 53, to keep pedaling. “I want to see what’s over the next mountain,” she says. “I’ve been this way since I was a kid.”

She favors multiday, self-supported rides through unforgiving terrain. “I like high-commitment events where I’m the only one who can rescue me,” she says. “It forces me to adapt.” In 2021, she was the top female finisher in the Iditarod Trail Invitational 350’s self-supported category. A week later she did a week-long winter ride across Iceland. In 2022, Rusch is planning a series of rides around the western U.S. “I call it Dirt Dharma,” she says. “Dharma means the right path that you need to take.” When she’s out on the edge of her endurance, Rusch finds clarity, and her path becomes clear.

THE RED BULLETIN

Fitness

E N DU R AN C E

I NTE N SIT Y

“Weekends are long distance”

“I like to find natural intervals”

“Typically two days a week— often Tuesday and Thursday—I do interval training. So it’s short and intense. And weekends are long, slow distance. During the summer I try to do one long adventure each week. I’ll look on a map and be like, ‘I wonder if that connects?’ So I’ll do an all-day ride to a lodge. Or meet friends to camp somewhere. I like going somewhere I’ve never been. It usually includes some hike-abike, since often the trails don’t actually connect. I make sure somebody knows where I’m going and always bring a headlamp.”

R EC OV E RY

WYATT CALDWELL/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

“I often do my own PT and self-care” “There’s a periodization to my training. Sometimes it’s harder, sometimes it’s easier. I usually take a couple days off each week. After a hard ride, I focus on downregulation. On a hard workout, your nervous system has been going full speed. You get more out of your workout if you prioritize recovery right afterward. So I lie down in the grass in my front yard, down-regulate, grab a recovery drink. A lot of us can’t go to a massage therapist, but there’s so many cool tools. I’ve been using a foam roller forever. The Theragun has been really cool to focus on certain areas.”

THE RED BULLETIN

“Repeats are really efficient, and if you have a good hill, there’s a joy in completing that task. But I don’t like to do my intervals on the same hill every time—my brain gets really bored. Sometimes, I’ll do natural intervals, meaning I’ll go on a three- or four-hour mountain bike ride and say, ‘OK, I’m going to go hard on all the hills.’ One hill might be 20 minutes, another might be two minutes. Those sorts of natural intervals are great if you don’t have a coach, since you can put those things into your rides yourself.”

N UTR ITI O N

“I count out the calories I’ll need in advance” “If I’m doing a long effort, I’ll look at how many hours it’s going to be, and I count out the calories. I need about 200 calories and 20 to 24 oz of fluids each hour. I’m eating both scientific nutrition and regular food to get calories, electrolytes and branch-chain amino acids, which are essential for endurance efforts. I make these trail cookies that have the micro- and macroingredients I need. In Alaska, I always take bacon. On a selfsupported ride, I have to carry everything. Bacon is lightweight— and I like it! I make bags with 400 calories each, so I don’t have to do math when I’m tired.”

“I’M FOCUSING ON BREATHING AND MINDFULNESS” “The big areas that I’m looking to improve are in energy and mindfulness. In endurance events, it’s about energy conservation. If your mind is spinning, you’re burning energy. We have the tools to trigger changes in our nervous system. Through breathing and mindfulness, I can calm my nervous system; I could be freaking out and lost in Alaska and I know how to calm down. It’s something that I call the spaces in between.”

G U I D E

See it

April WRESTLEMANIA 38

This six-episode series follows Red Bull KTM Factory Racing as they chase a premier-class title at the FIM Motocross World Championship. Jeffrey Herlings of the Netherlands, Tony Cairoli of Italy and Jorge Prado of Spain (pictured) are all championship contenders, but throughout the season each rider grapples with stress, self-doubt and the risks required for a chance at the title. For both riders and team, motocross is a complicated equation of strategy, equipment and emotions—but what matters most are the decisions riders make on the track. To win at this elite level, they’ll need to be comfortable on their bikes—and consistently competitive whenever the gate drops. redbull.com

April BOSTON MARATHON Since 1897, runners have gathered in Beantown for the world’s oldest annual marathon. Last year, the race was pushed to October due to the pandemic and the field was reduced by about 20 percent to 20,000 starters—with another 20,000 competing virtually. This year, the IRL field size is returning to 30,000 participants, but all athletes must be fully vaccinated to participate in the race. baa.org

April JEAN-MICHEL BASQUIAT: KING PLEASURE

Immersive exhibits are all the rage right now (looking at you, Van Gogh), but this new exhibition will feature 200 never-beforeseen (or rarely shown) works by American neoexpressionist artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. Multimedia, paintings, drawings, artifacts and ephemera will be carefully arranged to tell an intimate story about the late artist. Curated by Basquiat’s family, the show opens in New York in April. kingpleasure. basquiat.com

THE RED BULLETIN

SAMO VIDIC / RED BULL CONTENT POOL, GETTY IMAGES

Available Now RACE CRAFT: INSIDE MXGP

For anyone who’s a fan of professional wrestling— or just a curious newb— Wrestlemania is the one event you can’t miss. Sure, it’s ridiculous, but the melodrama that unfolds over two nights is pure entertainment, whether you’re watching at the AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas, or streaming it on Peacock. In the main events, Roman Reigns will go up against Brock Lesnar for the WWE Universal Championship and Ronda Rousey will take on Charlotte Flair for the SmackDown Women’s Championship. wwe.com

Calendar

April COACHELLA Shower us with warm beer and gouge us with hotel prices. Let us take weeks to plan our perfect outfits that make it impossible to use the toilet. We don’t mind. We love you Coachella, and we’re so glad you’re back. This year, the headliners are Harry Styles (eeeeeee!!!), Billie Eilish (youngest headliner ever!) and Ye (formerly Kanye West!), but we’re even more excited for a jam-packed lineup that includes Phoebe Bridgers, Megan Thee Stallion and Doja Cat. Thru April 24; coachella.com

GETTY IMAGES, BARTEK WOLINSKI / RED BULL CONTENT POOL

April NCAA FINAL FOUR

It’s true that traditional March Madness office pools have dwindled (or been nonexistent) for the past two years. Who hasn’t enjoyed watching the games unfold with your office buds and screaming dramatically in pain when one of your teams loses? Why does Jerry in accounting always win? (Sigh, we actually kinda miss Jerry and his nutty watercooler chats.) Last year, some companies used online brackets and conducted remote office pools to encourage a positive, shared experience and give everyone a break. (Feeling the burnout, amirite?) Here’s hoping for more IRL interaction in 2022. Thru April 4; ncaa.com

THE RED BULLETIN

Available Now FAST LIFE, SEASON 5 Over the course of five snackable episodes (all less than 15 minutes!), you can delve into the nail-biting 2021 season of the UCI Mountain Bike World Cup with American Kate Courtney (pictured), Frenchman Loïc Bruni and Canadian Finn Iles. This behind-the-scenes look at what it takes to be the world’s best XC and DH riders explores the highs and lows of their careers, dissects the importance of instinct during a race and explains the differences between a factory racer and a privateer. For more on last year’s racing series, check out our feature on page 32. redbull.com

HUNT 34 AERO WIDE DISC

Wheels are the best upgrade you can get for a midpriced bike, and these really hit the sweet spot. They sport a modern wide-profile rim that pairs with almost any tire for road or gravel riding, a moderate depth for a balance of aerodynamics and crosswind handling stability— all for a fair price. The sturdy aluminum rim stands up to abuse and is compatible with tubeless and conventional tires. And they’re as light as most carbon wheels. $689/pair; huntbikewheels.com

READY TO ROLL From shredding the steeps to conquering your commute, here’s the best new bike gear for great rides and great days. Words JOE LINDSEY

G U I D E

D R O P - B A R

GIANT REVOLT ADVANCED 2

As gravel riding evolves as a sport, so do the bikes. This new Revolt reflects the state of the art, with a refined geometry for more responsive handling and an adjustable wheelbase that lets you tune stability and comfort. The carbon-fiber frame is dropper-post compatible and fits tires up to 53 mm wide. Tons of accessory mounts let you customize your setup to haul water, food and gear, and ultra-low gearing shines on steep stuff. $2,800; giant-bicycles.com

R I D I N G

WOLF TOOTH ENCASE BAR KIT ONE Never forget your tools again. This clever system takes all the bits you’d need, splits them into two ergonomic handles and hides them into your handlebar ends for easily accessible storage. It includes a multitool with swappable hex heads covering every bolt on most bikes (including a valve core tool), a chain tool and tubeless-tire repair kit. They fit into rattle-free rubber storage sleeves, with low-profile end caps for a finished appearance. $120;wolftoothcomponents.com

SHIMANO RX8

What makes a gravel-riding shoe different from a mountain-biking shoe? Subtle details, like a carbon-composite midsole that’s stiff enough for efficient power transfer on long rides, but with enough flex for hike-a-bike. Add a grippy TPU tread that’s not as aggro as a full-on trail shoe. And a Boa IP1 dial-closure system that secures the upper with even pressure to avoid hot spots and micro-adjusts fit as needed. Comes in men’s and women’s versions. $260; bike.shimano.com

BIVO DUO

The problem with most plastic water bottles is you taste plastic. Plus, they’re not recyclable. Bivo’s Duo solves both by using infinitely recyclable stainless steel and a BPA-free cap. It’s easy to clean and imparts no funky flavors. You can’t squeeze it to drink but the high-flow gravity nozzle offers a flow rate equal to conventional bottles. The single-wall construction is light and durable, with a grippy, anti-scratch exterior that fits standard bottle cages. $44; drinkbivo.com

SPECIALIZED CRUX COMP

“Gravel bike” sometimes means heavy, but not the Crux. Specialized borrowed heavily from its ultralight Aethos road platform for this all-road speedster, with a svelte carbon-fiber frameset that feels responsive under power and smooth in the rough stuff. Plus, you can run tires up to 2.1 inches wide for capable handling and comfort, even on bumpy singletrack. SRAM’s Rival 1 groupset features a massive gearing range and powerful disc brakes for any terrain. $4,200; specialized.com

Some gravel bikes are heavy, but the Specialized Crux Comp is light, smooth and responsive. THE RED BULLETIN

G U I D E

F L AT- B A R

F U N

MARIN DSX 2

There isn’t much the DSX 2 can’t do. This flat-bar boundary buster is equipped with a stout aluminum frame that features an array of accessory mounts for racks, bottle cages and bags. It’s dropper-post compatible and clears up to 2.1-inch-wide rubber for getting rowdy. The 12-speed Shimano Deore drivetrain is geared wide for all types of terrain. Throwback rigid mountain bike? Long distance tourer? Hardy commuter? It’s good for all that, and whatever on- and off-road adventures you dream up. $1,349; marinbikes.com

ERGON BA

Hip packs usually slide around more than backpacks. But the BA has an innovative compression system; the twist dial secures it snug to your body without having to cinch down the waist strap so you can’t breathe. The hip belt features mesh for ventilation, and the main compartment holds food, tools, clothing, even a hydration bladder (sold separately). A zippered top pocket secures valuables, and a side pocket can fit a cellphone. $105; ergonbike.shop

SCOTT SPARK 930

This redesign of the long-beloved Spark is one of the best-riding, best-looking trail bikes available. The rear shock is now hidden in the frame, away from performance-wrecking grit. It also gets a boost to 120 mm of travel; paired with a 130 mm Fox suspension fork, manually controlled suspension lockout and adjustable head angle. The spec includes Shimano’s 12-speed Deore drivetrain, with four-piston disc brakes for exquisite control and stopping power. $4,700; scott-sports.com

CANYON TORQUE 27.5 AL 5

Canyon has made enduro riding more affordable with this rig. The rugged aluminum frame uses the same design as the pricier carbon Torque and stands up to the abuse of gravity and park riding. There are thoughtful touches like space for a water bottle inside the main triangle. The Rock Shox suspension provides 180 mm of travel to rail rock gardens, eat braking bumps and smooth landings from the boostiest of takeoffs. Four-piston Shimano disc brakes keep things under control, and meaty Maxxis tires bite deep in loose soil. $3,299; canyon.com

DIAZ SUSPENSION RUNT

Air suspension forks suffer two big issues: Smallbump sensitivity makes them pogo inefficiently, and on big hits, progressively rising pressure limits full travel. This clever upgrade, which fits most air-sprung forks, solves both problems with a dual air-chamber system that produces a more linear spring curve to balance small-bump response, midtravel support and a smooth feel even deep in the travel. Installation and setup are simple. $225; diazsuspensiondesign.com

KITSBOW 3/4 SLEEVE MERINO TEE This stylish jersey is great for almost any day on the trails. The merino blend offers warmth for chilly rides and wicks moisture to keep you dry as you work up a sweat. The ¾ sleeves offer shoulder-season comfort and play well with elbow pads. The size-inclusive fit, available in men’s (Mullinax) and women’s (Laurel) styles, flatters all body types on and off the bike. All Kitsbow gear is made in North Carolina, and the company is employee owned. $89; kitsbow.com

SWEET PROTECTION ARBITRATOR MIPS

Full-face helmets are essential protection for liftserved gravity or bike-park riding. But they’re heavy and stifling for climbing. This convertible lid gives you options. The half-shell is perfect for trail riding, with good rear coverage, copious vents for cooling, one-handed adjustment and a MIPS rotational liner. Attach the chin bar to set up an ASTM downhill-certified full-face helmet for gravity riding. $350; sweetprotection.com

The Arbitrator MIPS converts from a well-vented half-shell to a stout full-face helmet on the fly. THE RED BULLETIN

G U I D E

U T I L I T Y

R I D I N G

TWO WHEEL GEAR ALPHA PANNIER SMART

This smart, convertible pannier/backpack is built for the modern commute. It features 25 spacious liters of cargo capacity for everything you need for the day, with thoughtful organization including a padded laptop sleeve and accessory pockets. Waterproofed recycled ripstop fabric provides long-lasting wear and protection against the elements. But the real star is the Joey T3 console, which features a multiport charger, phone tray, anti-theft proximity alarms and cable management for your devices. $300; twowheelgear.com

DUER PERFORMANCE DENIM

All clothing is cycling clothing, but some is extra sweet. Like these classic jeans, made with 70 percent cotton/28 percent Coolmax/2 percent Lycra blend. They offer a perfect balance of easy movement on the bike, comfort off it and 24/7 style. Available in slim, relaxed and athletic fits and multiple lengths and washes in both men’s and women’s versions, they have triple-stitched inseams and a hidden gusset for durability and chafe-free commutes. $135; shopduer.com

RAPHA COMMUTER JACKET

This lightweight, packable shell features a waterproof-breathable membrane and fully taped seams to keep you dry, plus a hood that fits comfortably under a helmet. Cut slightly long in the back to ward off wheel spray, the tail features a reflective grid-dot pattern that’s visible even if you’re wearing a backpack. Men’s and women’s styles provide technical performance with casual style. Available in a range of hues from subdued and classic to bright and flashy. $135; rapha.cc

KRYPTONITE EVOLUTION MINI 7

This versatile lock strikes a balance between protection and weight, with a 13 mm hardenedsteel shackle that resists cutting and prying attacks and a double-deadbolt design that can’t be defeated with one cut. The high-security disc-cylinder keyway will frustrate even expert lock pickers, and the 4-foot cable protects components like wheels. Kryptonite’s anti-theft plan offers up to $2,500 in replacement value, free with purchase. $93; kryptonitelock.com

The Rapha Commuter Jacket blends technical performance with casual style. 92

THE RED BULLETIN

GOCYCLE G4I

This compact e-bike will turn heads—and turn your commute from a gridlocked grunt to a grin. It folds in half from a single frame hinge for easy storage in small apartments or while riding public transit. The clever design rolls even when folded, and the 38-pound weight is manageable to carry. Thoughtful integrations include a phone charger, daytime running lights and predictive downshifting of the Shimano Nexus drivetrain, so you’re never stuck lugging away from a stop in a big gear. $5,999; gocycle.com

RADPOWER RADMISSION 1

The RadMission 1 is a great way to get around town. The hub motor gets up to 45 miles per charge and delivers 500 watts of pedal-assist or throttle-actuated power. The cable-actuated disc brakes and single-speed drivetrain promise reliable, low-maintenance performance, and the aluminum frame, which comes in traditional and step-through builds, has integrated front rack mounts. The taillight illuminates if you brake. $1,199; radpowerbikes.com

MOMENTUM PAKYAK E+

Leave the car at home. This long-tail cargo bike can haul more than 350 pounds across its burly front and rear racks, in a variety of configurations including two child seats and roomy pannier bags for grocery runs. The integrated front and rear lights increase visibility, while a sturdy kickstand and step-through design make loading a snap. The Yamaha pedal-assist motor provides enough torque to get you going from a stop, even fully loaded, and an optional battery extender boosts range up to 120 miles. $5,500; momentum-biking.com

A N ATO M Y O F G E A R Two innovative bike products, deconstructed. Words JOE LINDSEY

orthwest Arkansas might seem an improbable cycling hotbed, but the region’s rise—powered by cycling-mad Walmart heirs Steuart and Tom Walton—is built on great trails and homegrown businesses like high-tech bikemaker Allied Cycle Works and its new all-surface Echo.

CUT THE CORD

CUSTOM SPEC CA B L E R E A DY

The Echo stem hides cable routing under a plate for easy access, which makes brake bleeds, cable replacements or fit adjustments a snap.

Select from various parts kits and a matrix of frame and decal colors to personalize your ride and customize the cockpit, saddle and wheelset to your desires.

SRAM’s wireless Rival AXS groupset offers fast, accurate electronic shifts and a powerful app with custom tuning options and even maintenance reminders.

DUAL PERSONALITY

ALLIED ECHO R I VA L A X S

Position the Echo’s sliding dropout chips one way for the lively handling of a road bike. Flip them for dirt-ready tire clearance up to 40 mm.

BETTER FIBER

Domestic manufacturing also gives Allied access to U.S.-made, aerospace grades of carbon fiber that can’t be sold overseas.

HOME-MADE

All Allieds are built at its Rogers, AR factory, ensuring close quality control and better supply-chain stability.

Starting at $6,735; alliedcycleworks.com 94

THE RED BULLETIN

G U I D E

ackmaker Küat went back to the drawing board for the Piston Pro X with one goal in mind: What would the ultimate bike rack look like? The result leaves no part untouched and no improvement unmade—and has no peer in performance.

SMOOTH O P E R AT O R

R E A DY T O B AT T L E

MIX AND M AT C H

The all-metal Piston Pro X is built to withstand a car rack’s hard life, with a UV- and chipresistant powdercoat finish and corrosionresistant stainlesssteel hardware.

SECURITY GUARD

The integrated 12 mm cable lock stops opportunistic thieves, while the stainlesssteel hitch lock ensures no one makes off with the rack itself.

The cradle arms open and close with one hand, with smooth, Kashima-coated sliders to make loading and unloading a breeze.

H E AV Y L I F T

The sturdy Piston Pro X can handle e-bikes up to 67 pounds each. An optional ramp makes loading heavy bikes a literal walk-up.

BRIGHT IDEA

The LED taillights on the rack connect via your vehicle’s optional trailer wiring harness to signal braking and turns.

The trays and locking arms fit wheels from 18 to 29 inches and tires up to 5 inches wide and are compatible with every kind of bike design.

K Ü AT PISTON PRO X $1,389; kuat.com THE RED BULLETIN

GLOBAL TEAM

THE RED BULLETIN WORLDWIDE

The Red Bulletin is published in six countries. The cover of this month’s French edition features 30-year-old extreme kayaker Nouria Newman, who shares how she prepares for perilous situations. For more stories beyond the ordinary, go to redbulletin.com.

Disclaimer If you subscribed to The Red Bulletin magazine in the USA either by mail, online or other method, we may send you offers through direct mail that we feel might be of interest to you and/or share your name and mailing address and certain other information, such as when you first subscribed, with reputable companies that provide marketing offers through direct mail. If you do not want us to send you any offers from third parties through direct mail or share your personal information with other companies so that they can send you direct mail offers about their products and services, please write to us at the street address or subscription email address at right. Please note that even if you opt out of receiving promotional direct mail offers, we may continue to send you service notifications by direct mail that are related to your The Red Bulletin account(s).

Head of The Red Bulletin Alexander Müller-Macheck, Sara Car-Varming (deputy) Editors-in-Chief Andreas Rottenschlager, Andreas Wollinger (deputy) Creative Directors Erik Turek, Kasimir Reimann (deputy) Art Directors Marion Bernert-Thomann, Miles English, Tara Thompson Designers Martina de Carvalho-Hutter, Kevin Faustmann-Goll, Cornelia Gleichweit Photo Editors Eva Kerschbaum (manager), Marion Batty (deputy), Susie Forman, Tahira Mirza, Rudi Übelhör Digital Editors Christian Eberle-Abasolo (manager), Marie-Maxime Dricot, Melissa Gordon, Lisa Hechenberger, Elena Rodriguez Angelina Head of Audio Florian Obkircher Managing Editors Ulrich Corazza, Marion Lukas-Wildmann Publishing Management Ivona Glibusic, Bernhard Schmied, Melissa Stutz, Anna Wilczek Managing Director Stefan Ebner Head of Media Sales & Partnerships Lukas Scharmbacher Head of Co-Publishing Susanne Degn-Pfleger Project Management Co-Publishing, B2B Marketing & Communication Katrin Sigl (manager), Katrin Dollenz, Thomas Hammerschmied, Sophia Wahl, Teresa Kronreif (B2B), Eva Pech, Valentina Pierer, Stefan Portenkirchner (communication), Jennifer Silberschneider Creative Services Verena Schörkhuber-Zöhrer (manager), Sara Wonka, Julia Bianca Zmek, Edith Zöchling-Marchart, Tanja Zimmermann Commercial Management Co-Publishing Alexandra Ita Editorial Co-Publishing Raffael Fritz (manager), Gundi Bittermann, Michael Hufnagl, Irene Olorode, Mariella Reithoffer, Wolfgang Wieser Executive Creative Director Markus Kietreiber Senior Manager Creative Elisabeth Kopanz Art Direction Commercial & Co-Publishing Peter Knehtl (manager), Erwin Edtmayer, Simone Fischer, Martina Maier, Andreea Parvu, Carina Schaittenberger, Alexandra Schendl, Julia Schinzel, Florian Solly, Dominik Uhl, Sophie Weidinger, Stephan Zenz Head of Direct to Consumer Business Peter Schiffer Direct to Consumer Business Marija Althajm, Victoria Schwärzler, Yoldaş Yarar Retail & Special Projects Manager Klaus Pleninger Advertising Manuela Brandstätter, Monika Spitaler Production Veronika Felder (manager), Martin Brandhofer, Walter O. Sádaba, Sabine Wessig Repro Clemens Ragotzky (manager), Claudia Heis, Nenad Isailović, Sandra Maiko Krutz, Josef Mühlbacher Finance Mariia Gerutska (manager), Simone Kratochwill MIT Christoph Kocsisek, Michael Thaler IT Service Desk Maximilian Auerbach Operations Alice Gafitanu, Melanie Grasserbauer, Alexander Peham, Thomas Platzer Assistant to General Management Sandra Artacker Project Management Dominik Debriacher, Gabriela-Teresa Humer Editor and CEO Andreas Kornhofer Editorial office Am Grünen Prater 3, A-1020 Vienna Phone +43 1 90221-0 Web redbulletin.com Published by Red Bull Media House GmbH, Oberst-Lepperdinger-Straße 11–15, A-5071 Wals bei Salzburg, FN 297115i, Landesgericht Salzburg, ATU63611700 Executive Directors Dkfm. Dietrich Mateschitz, Dietmar Otti, Christopher Reindl, Marcus Weber

THE RED BULLETIN USA, Vol. 11 Issue 8, ISSN 2308-586X is published monthly except combined January/February and July/August issues by Red Bull Media House, North America, 1740 Stewart St., Santa Monica, CA 90404. Periodicals postage paid at Santa Monica, CA, and additional mailing offices. ATTENTION POSTMASTER: Send address changes to THE RED BULLETIN, PO Box 469002, Escondido, CA 92046. Editor-in-Chief Peter Flax Deputy Editor Nora O’Donnell Art Director Tara Thompson Copy Chiefs Catherine Auer, David Caplan Publishing Management Branden Peters Advertising Sales Todd Peters, todd.peters@redbull.com Dave Szych, dave.szych@redbull.com Tanya Foster, tanya.foster@redbull.com Printed by Quad/Graphics, Inc., 668 Gravel Pike, East Greenville, PA 18041, qg.com Mailing Address PO Box 469002 Escondido, CA 92046 U.S. Office 2700 Pennsylvania Ave. Santa Monica, CA 90404 Subscribe getredbulletin.com, subscription@us.redbulletin.com. Basic subscription rate is $29.95 per year. Offer available in the U.S. and U.S. possessions only. The Red Bulletin is published 10 times a year. Please allow four to six weeks for delivery of the first issue. Customer Service 855-492-1650; subscription@us.redbulletin.com

THE RED BULLETIN Austria, ISSN 1995-8838 Editor Nina Kaltenböck, Wolfgang Wieser Proofreaders Hans Fleißner (manager), Petra Hannert, Monika Hasleder, Billy Kirnbauer-Walek Publishing Management Bernhard Schmied Media Sales & Partnerships Thomas Hutterer (manager), Michael Baidinger, Franz Fellner, Ines Gruber, Wolfgang Kröll, Gabriele Matijevic-Beisteiner, Alfred Vrej Minassian, Nicole Okasek-Lang, Britta Pucher, Jennifer Sabejew, Johannes Wahrmann-Schär, Ellen WittmannSochor, Ute Wolker, Christian Wörndle, Sabine Zölß

THE RED BULLETIN France, ISSN 2225-4722 Editor Pierre-Henri Camy Country Coordinator Christine Vitel Country Project M anagement Alexis Bulteau

THE RED BULLETIN Germany, ISSN 2079-4258 Editor Maximilian Reich Proofreaders Hans Fleißner (manager), Petra Hannert, Monika Hasleder, Billy Kirnbauer-Walek Country Project Management Nina Hahn Media Sales & Partnerships Thomas Hutterer (manager), Michael Baidinger, Franz Fellner, Ines Gruber, Wolfgang Kröll, Gabriele Matijevic-Beisteiner, Alfred Vrej Minassian, Nicole Okasek-Lang, Britta Pucher, Jennifer Sabejew, Johannes Wahrmann-Schär, Ellen WittmannSochor, Ute Wolker, Christian Wörndle, Sabine Zölß

THE RED BULLETIN Switzerland, ISSN 2308-5886 Editor Stefania Telesca Proofreaders Hans Fleißner (manager), Petra Hannert, Monika Hasleder, Billy Kirnbauer-Walek Country Project Management Meike Koch Media Sales & Brand Partnerships Christian Bürgi (Team Lead), christian.buergi@redbull.com Marcel Bannwart, marcel.bannwart@redbull.com Jessica Pünchera, jessica.puenchera@redbull.com Goldbach Publishing Marco Nicoli, marco.nicoli@goldbach.com

THE RED BULLETIN United Kingdom, ISSN 2308-5894 Editor Tom Guise Associate Editor Lou Boyd Chief Sub-Editor Davydd Chong Publishing Management Ollie Stretton Advertising Sales Mark Bishop, mark.bishop@redbull.com

THE RED BULLETIN

SUBSCRIBE NOW

10 issues The Red Bulletin

ONLY $12

getredbulletin.com

Action highlight

Dubbed “the Pearl of the Swiss Alps,” the village of Saas-Fee is a car-free idyll nestled amid awesome glaciers like the one pictured here. But this ain’t a tourist brochure. Avert your eyes from nature’s beauty for a second and marvel instead at the artistry—and bravery—of German freeskier Teddy Berr. As photographer Willi Nothers explains, “This spot is not easy to hit. It has an icy, short inrun. If you slide away, you fall into the depths of the glacier.”

The next issue of THE RED BULLETIN is out on April 19.

THE RED BULLETIN

WILLI NOTHERS/RED BULL ILLUME

Flying colors

The Red Bulletin US 04/22

Articles inside

Roar Emotion

Beyond Fearlessness

The Trailblazer