The Red Bulletin US 06/22 by Red Bull Media House

BEYOND THE ORDINARY

U.S. EDITION JUNE 2022, $5.99

BEYOND THE ORDINARY

THE PERFECT SUMMER ADVENTURE

It’s time to go big!

THE RED BULLETIN 06/2022

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

MAKING THE LEAP People who have a thirst to live a full life know great things happen when you try something challenging or new. This is true whether you’re on a Sunday adventure or making a big life decision. This issue is a celebration of getting out of your comfort zone. There’s an essay package in which writerly outdoor enthusiasts face some big obstacles and prevail, and our cover story— on iconic destinations where you can climb, bike, dive or otherwise go wild on rock. We want you to go for it.

CONTRIBUTORS THIS ISSUE

DAVID DORAN

“I try to spend as much time outdoors as possible,” says the award-winning U.K.-based artist, who illustrated our adventure essay package. “I end up bringing these scenes into my studio. I love the idea of capturing the movement and atmosphere of the wild outdoors in a still and contained artwork.” Doran’s work has appeared in The New Yorker, Wired and The Wall Street Journal. Page 35

Cole Anthony goes airborne as Keena shoots. To see the result, check out page 63.

Other features show athletes and artists making the leap, too. Like the metal band Voices of Baceprot—three young women from Indonesia who are unafraid to challenge cultural conservatism to make the music they love. And NBA guard Cole Anthony, who went from high school to the Orlando Magic in just two years—and is digesting the work it will take to become a Hall of Famer. Ask yourself: Do you want it to be easy? Or do you want it to be great? 04

The Atlanta-based journalist wrote our feature on Cole Anthony. “Anthony invited me into his world by sharing his life story and displaying his elite skills on the basketball court,” says Shaw, who recently published a book on trap music and has had work published in The Guardian and Rolling Out. “Despite some rainy moments in Orlando, it was exciting to work on this feature, which sheds light on Anthony’s journey to NBA stardom on and off the court.” Page 56

THE RED BULLETIN

CHRIS BURKARD/VERB PHOTO (COVER)

A.R. SHAW

Welcome to nature

The fjørå collection Bold. Innovative. Freeride inspired.

Available at: Norrøna Flagship Store New York, Norrøna Concept Store Boulder, Norrøna Outlet Store Castle Rock, Backcountry

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

norrona.com

CONTENTS June

FEATURES 22

Classic Rock

Seeking adventure? Here are five iconic places where you can climb, dive, hike or ride—all where stone is the centerpiece.

35 Pushing the Limits

Seven writers recount tales of adversity that explore why we test ourselves outdoors and step outside our comfort zones.

46 Aqua Punks

Photographer Franck Seguin follows the rock stars of the deep: freedivers on single-breath journeys into the world’s oceans.

Cole Anthony

Living on a Prayer

Only 22, the Orlando Magic point guard has a world of talent and unlimited potential—and he’s not afraid to do the work. All-female metal band Voice of Baceprot are used to prejudice, but the only thing that matters to the trio is the power of rock.

22 DESERT OASIS

In Arizona, the stunning cliffs along Havasu Creek are perfect for divers, while the waters beckon kayakers.

56 STRONG POINT

“I want people to respect how hard I work,” says Cole Anthony, point guard for the Orlando Magic.

THE RED BULLETIN

THE

DEPARTURE

Taking You to New Heights

9 Cliff diver Ellie Smart gets ready to take on Boston 12 How Islabikes is making

cycling more accessible

14 Dirt biking in Canada 16 Skating in Latvia 18 A nonprofit helps save old

surfboards—and the ocean 20 Sister duo Ibeyi share the tunes that shaped their style

GUIDE

Get it. Do it. See it. 79 Travel: Three adventure races to test your mettle 84 Fitness tips from freerider Harriet Burbidge-Smith 86 Dates for your calendar 88 The best new outdoor gear 94 Anatomy of gear 96 The Red Bulletin worldwide

CHRIS BURKARD/VERB PHOTO, FRANCK SEGUIN, KEENA

98 Pure surf in the Philippines

46 AIRTIGHT

Four-time world record holder Guillaume Néry freedives for photographer Franck Seguin.

THE RED BULLETIN

LIFE

STYLE

BEYOND

THE

ORDINARY

THE

DEAN TREML/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

Eleanor “Ellie” Smart takes the leap during a training session for the Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series in Ireland last year.

TOP MARKS

Ellie Smart shares how she conquered her fear of heights to become an elite cliff diver—and now she’s helping others unlock that ability, too. THE RED BULLETIN

hink “cliff diving” and Boston Harbor is not the first place that springs to mind. Think “cliff diver” and you may conjure a fearless adrenaline junkie, not someone who dislikes heights. But when the 2022 Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series kicks off on June 4, it will be in Beantown, and Ellie Smart, the sole American on the team, happens to be afraid of heights. “Believe it or not,” laughs the 26-year-old. But it’s no joke; cliff divers routinely leap from heights of up to 27 meters (about 90 feet). This unexpected duality begs the question: How does an athlete who dislikes heights become a professional cliff diver? The answer—pure grit. Smart’s journey traces back to Kansas, where she was a little girl with a big Olympic dream: to compete in the 10-meter platform event, a goal she pursued through years of training, landing at UC Berkeley, where she majored in media studies and dove for two seasons. When she realized her dream

wouldn’t happen, she retired. “I never thought I’d do it again,” she says. After a postgraduation European internship, Smart returned to California. A friend convinced her to hike to the Emerald Pools of the Yuba River, near Lake Tahoe, so she could jump from the 20-meter cliff into the narrow but deep waters below. “I was standing on the edge and was like, I can’t do this. It’s too scary.” She left, but made up her mind to conquer her fear. Two days later she returned to the Yuba—so far removed from chlorination, safety protocols and 10-meter maximums—and jumped. It was a revelation, and a turning point. “When I hit the water and accomplished this thing I didn’t think I was capable of, I felt I could do anything,” she says. “It was like I unlocked a new level of myself when I discovered high diving.” Smart thought, “Maybe I was meant to be doing this.” So she dialed up Dave Colturi—a Red Bull cliff diver and erstwhile instructor at a dive camp Smart had attended as a kid—who gave her encouragement and pointers about a possible cliff-diving career. She bought a one-way ticket to England and began to train, learning the four dives necessary to compete in Red Bull’s World Series. Within a spectacularly short time span, Smart earned a wild-card invite to the Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series. In June 2017, she stood atop the cliffs of Inis Mór, Ireland, 21 meters above a “wormhole” natural pool below. Shivering in the wind but ready for takeoff, she leapt into her first World Series with a one-anda-half twisting double dive. She led the field after Round 1 and ultimately nabbed fifth.

Her upward trajectory continued, though not without bumps, including a crash landing that was “mentally pretty difficult.” Nevertheless, she persisted, winning bronze at the 2018 FINA High Diving World Cup. Smart calls that a “lifechanging moment” because it led to a permanent spot on the 2019 Red Bull lineup. And because after that win, she says, “Cliff diving, and being involved in the sport, really did become my life.” Smart was named FINA’s best female high diver in 2021, and though she wants to climb the rankings—she’s learning a back armstand dive and hopes to be the first woman to nail a back double quad (she was the first to compete with a back double triple)—it’s not just podiums she’s after. “I’ve really shifted my approach. It’s more about proving to myself what I can do, what my strengths are.” And that goes beyond competitions. In 2020 she earned her master’s degree in sports and exercise science; now her goal is to become Dr. Smart—“I’m doing my Ph.D. in sports management”—before she turns 30. “My fiancé would say I don’t know how to have fun. Working is fun,” she laughs. “Scheming up new ideas is my hobby.” Her fiancé, fellow cliff diver Owen Weymouth (they got engaged at the last stop of the 2021 series, in Italy), is a frequent collaborator. Together they founded the Clean Cliffs Project, which combats plastic pollution with beach and ocean cleanups and has ambassadors around the world. Last year Smart pitched Utah’s Olympic Park a “crazy idea to build the first highdive platform in the United States.” And by July 2021 the International High Diving

ROMINA AMATO/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, DEAN TREML/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

T H E D E PA RT U R E

THE RED BULLETIN

As a girl growing up in Kansas, Smart had dreams of diving in the Olympics. That didn’t materialize, but a fortuitous jump off a cliff into a river sealed her fate as a cliff diver.

“I UNLOCKED A NEW LEVEL OF MYSELF WHEN I DISCOVERED HIGH DIVING.” THE RED BULLETIN

Institute, of which she is CEO, had materialized. With nine platform heights, 27 meters being the highest, it’s open again this summer to those looking for a fun challenge. Smart has seen people cry in fear at the prospect of a 5-meter jump but then muster up the guts to pull it off—and then go back for a higher jump.

She can relate. “It’s this experience of unlocking an ability in yourself, and I’m just so passionate about sharing that with the world.” Come June, her own ability to overcome fear will be on display. “I’m excited for Boston,” Smart says. “It’s amazing to be able to share what I do and what I love with my home crowd.” —Cat Auer 11

Islabikes

BREAKING THE CYCLE Imagine being unable to find a bike suited to you. For people with disproportionate dwarfism, that has always been a reality—until now.

or the past 16 years, Islabikes has been known mainly for one thing: making high-quality kids’ bicycles. The U.K.-based company was founded by triple British cyclocross champion Isla Rowntree after she spotted a gap in the market for coollooking, ergonomically crafted frames for children. As its bikes became more popular, however, the business began to receive requests from another group of cyclists: adults with dwarfism, asking to try out the kids’ frames for their own use. “We were happy to accommodate,” says managing director Tim Goodall, “but it didn’t feel right, and we quickly realized that it was a problem we could solve.” So Islabikes drew on its expertise in bike design and

set about creating a frame specifically for people with disproportionate dwarfism, or achondroplasia. “The bike industry, collectively, [caters to] a very narrow segment of society, because that’s where the most money is made,” says Goodall. “If you’re between 5 feet, 6 inches and 6 feet, 1 inch, you can go to almost any bike shop or online and

find a bike. If you’re outside that range, whether short or tall or heavy, there’s less choice. And then there are people with dwarfism, who have no choice at all.” To help correct this, Islabikes contacted the Dwarf Sports Association (DSAuk) for the input of its members, including DSAuk ambassador Steve Scott (pictured at left). “They were very interested in getting our involvement,” says Scott, who worked closely with Islabikes during the design process. “I’m not an engineer at all, but I love cycling and I know that if you’re disproportionate, your knees bend in a slightly different way because of lateral movement. And there’s also reaching for the brake— our hands are a bit shorter, so that needed to be tweaked.” The result? The Joni, a hybrid bike with swept-back handlebars, shorter cranks and brake levers designed for smaller hands. The biggest change Scott consulted on was the body shape—an ultra-low, U-shaped, step-over design for easy clearance when getting on and off. “With a traditional bike with a crossbar, my kids and I jump on. We don’t have to with this bike, which is brilliant,” says Scott. Available in two models— with 20-inch or 24-inch wheels—the Joni is the world’s first mass-produced bike for those with achondroplasia. It’s a development that Scott says will make a huge difference to many people’s lifestyles. “I personally believe cycling revolutionizes how dwarf people get about,” he says. “You and I could not go jogging together—I wouldn’t get very far and it’s not good for my joints. But we could cycle together. If we went out for a Sunday afternoon cycle, we could go together on the same course.” islabikes.com THE RED BULLETIN

LOU BOYD

T H E D E PA RT U R E

TH E O N LY TH I N G M O R E R EWAR D I N G THAN C HAS I N G YO U R D R E AM , I S CATC H I N G IT.

b fg o o d r i c ht i re s .c o m

WHAT AR E YO U BU I L D I N G F O R ?

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Kinbasket Lake, British Columbia

LINDSAY DONOVAN

When Canadian photographer Lindsay Donovan and dirt-bike rider Steve Shannon drove out to the Columbia Basin on this hot spring day, the window of opportunity for shooting was limited. For this image—a Red Bull Illume semifinalist—Donovan needed some textured, track-free ground, and after a few hours of wandering the parched mudflats, she found it. Within weeks this area would be filled with runoff mountain water and serve as a reservoir. Thankfully, no lifeboat rescue was needed that day. lindsaydonovan.com

DAVYDD CHONG

DRY RUN

Emi Erickson in the midst of one of the biggest winter surf seasons in decades, has no choice other than the biggest tool in the quiver.

T H E D E PA RT U R E

It’s the stuff of fantasies for a skater: endless asphalt, ready to ride. Fittingly, this image of Arturs Bogdanovich skating a deserted city street at sunrise was a semifinalist in the “Playground by WhiteWall” category of Red Bull Illume 2021. “There were many challenging climbs,” says lensman Volodya Voronin, “but the [rooftop] view and unique shooting angle were worth it.” volodyavoronin.com 16

VOLODYA VORONIN/RED BULL ILLUME

STREET DREAMS

DAVYDD CHONG

Riga, Latvia

GOOD TIDINGS

How a surf trip became a mission to rescue old boards and, in turn, the world’s oceans.

ou might assume surfing is a fairly eco-conscious sport, what with its focus on connecting with nature. But on a trip to Indonesia in 2018, surfer and journalist Mathieu Maugret was confronted with a very different reality—one that required an inspired solution. The Frenchman was visiting the island of Sumbawa to work, write and ride the waves, when he noticed all the broken boards dumped near

popular surf spots. He made friends with a local surfer who was in the water every day, and he saw that the man was riding a damaged board. “There was no local industry to buy secondhand boards,” recalls Maugret, 31. “Since I was traveling elsewhere for work, initially I thought I could bring him back a board. But that’s when I had the idea: Why get a new board when you can mend the ones that’ve been discarded?” This simple thought grew into a grander vision: the Paddle Paddle Surf Project, an initiative that rescues broken boards from landfills, repairs them, then gives them a second life with those in need. Many surfboards are made from recycling-resistant materials such as expanded polystyrene, which can take up to 500 years to decompose,

THE RED BULLETIN

MATHILDE MÉTAIRIE

Paddle Paddle Surf Project

and most of the 400,000-plus boards manufactured globally each year will eventually go into landfills or end up dumped in the sea. Maugret’s first board repair soon became several, and working with a local contact, he gave them away to children living in the region. Since then the project has transformed into a global endeavor. With the help of friends and volunteers at surf spots in various countries, Maugret collects whatever old boards people can spare and spends months taking out the dings, making them watertight and rebeautifying them. “I started collecting samples everywhere and it grew really quick,” he explains. “Last summer, a group of us rented a house on the French coast and took all the boards we’d collected. We had 128 in the garden to repair.” In association with partners across the world— from all-female surf school Sea Sisters Sri Lanka to Surf Ghana, a collective aiming to open a surf school in Busua, Ghana—the Paddle Paddle Surf Project provides free boards and equipment as well as environmental education, while promoting local art and culture on its channels. Maugret is keen to raise money through local events rather than ask for donations. “I’ve tried to approach this not as a classic NGO but more as a global project in ecology, [organized] around art and surfing,” he says. “We don’t have someone in charge; rather, we’re a collective building something that looks like our idea of the future of sustainable nonprofit organizations.” Putting fewer boards into landfills and allowing more people to benefit from the positive power of the ocean, the Paddle Paddle Surf Project is helping surfing win back its environmental credentials. paddlepaddlesurfproject.com

LOU BOYD

T H E D E PA RT U R E

Playlist

TWIN PEAKS

The sister act known as Ibeyi pick four favorite tunes that helped shape their unique style.

hen Ibeyi—aka French Afro-Cuban twins Naomi and LisaKaindé Díaz, 27—released their eponymous debut album in 2015, music magazines praised its sparse electronic sound, which blends Yoruba chants, Cuban jazz and Björk-like vocal gymnastics. A tribute to the twins’ deceased father, legendary percussionist Angá Díaz, Ibeyi also won a fan in Beyoncé, who cast the sisters in the short film for her Lemonade album. Their third album, Spell 31, is a plea for empathy and understanding that taps into the power of nature. Here are four songs that inspired Ibeyi on their journey. facebook.com/Ibeyi

ROSALÍA “SAOKO” (2022) Naomi: “Rosalía actually wrote this song a long time ago, but it finally got released earlier this year. I think she is one of the best—she’s absolutely amazing. We’ve been following her since the beginning of her career, and it’s amazing how she mixes flamenco with pop music. It’s brilliant. This song is a mix of reggaeton and jazz, which I love, and I think it’s done really well.”

MESHELL NDEGEOCELLO “PLEASE DON’T LET ME BE MISUNDERSTOOD” (2012) L-K: “This song is particularly dear to my heart because I’ve been a fan of Meshell since I was a teenager, and I’ve learned so much by listening to her music. Also, I discovered the song through Nina Simone [who originally recorded it], and she’s my goddess. So it’s kind of my two goddesses working together, because this song from Nina is being sung by Meshell. It’s perfect!”

KENDRICK LAMAR “HOC” (2010) N: “This tune [from the rapper’s fourth solo mixtape, 2010’s Overly Dedicated] is a great one, but honestly I could have chosen any song by Kendrick Lamar. I’m a huge fan and I think he’s absolutely amazing. He changed music as we know it, he really did. I’m in awe, you know? Would he be someone that we would want to work with? Oh yeah! Whenever he wants, we’re there. [Laughs.]” THE RED BULLETIN

SULEIKA MULLER

ANGÁ DÍAZ “REZOS” (2006) Lisa-Kaindé: “This is a genius song from our dad, where he recites the names of all the musicians who helped him throughout his life and who have passed on. For the track ‘Los Muertos’ on our new album, we sampled his voice—so now he’s doing it with us, basically. We recite his name, his parents’, our sister’s, and also the names of musicians like Prince who helped us throughout our life.”

MARCEL ANDERS

Scan this QR code to hear our Playlist podcast with Ibeyi on Spotify.

GO ON A VACATION THAT MOVES YOU.

GO EXPLORE

CLASSIC ROCK If you’re seeking adventure this summer, we’ve got five wild ideas where stone is the centerpiece. Beautiful and iconic places where you can climb, dive, hike or ride. Words KELLY BASTONE

The spectacular cliffs along Havasu Creek beckon thrillseeking divers as well as adventurers who just want to chill in paradise.

CHRIS BURKARD/VERB PHOTO

HAVASU FALLS, ARIZONA CLIFF JUMP IN A DESERT PAR ADISE

Sedignis reius dolo to cus aut et dolor sitisit sant exerum volorer c

CHRIS BURKARD/VERB PHOTO

aterfalls aren’t rare—you can find cascades big and small on almost every mountain stream—but none matches the magnetism of 100-foot Havasu Falls. Part of its appeal is the pool’s unlikely color: Spring-fed Havasu Creek picks up minerals from the surrounding travertine and forms an opaline-blue oasis amid the Arizona desert. One glimpse of that water leaping from the orange cliffs and you’ll itch to follow suit. (Closed during the pandemic, Havasu Falls is set to reopen on June 1.) East Coast cliff jumper Mike Berritta logged his first pilgrimage to Havasu, located on the Havasupai Indian Reservation near the Grand Canyon, in 2015. But after navigating the permit-reservation system (havasupaireservations.com) and making the 10-mile trek to the campground at the base of the falls, he didn’t jump there as planned. The falls’ unusually high water volume prevented him from thoroughly scouting the pool’s depth—and he discovered that for safety reasons, the tribe discourages human imitations of the falls’ dramatic cliff dive. When he returned in 2016 with a posse of 250 other rock-hopping friends (he runs a video production company called Cliff Life Productions), the group negotiated permission with the tribe to hurl themselves off cliffy launchpads located at 80, 100 and 130 feet above the water. Berritta dove from the 80-foot perch but couldn’t bring himself to launch off the 100-footer. “You can’t see down into the landing zone, because there’s a massive waterfall blocking your view,” he explains. Jumpers there must run down a rounded cliff and blindly hurl themselves over the edge. “It’s pretty scary,” says Berritta, who routinely hucks himself from ledges that deter most risk-averse people. That demo can find less-intense bliss at Hidden Falls, located a mile from Havasu Falls in a canyon that abuts the main trail. Berritta calls these jumps “small to moderate,” but at 30 feet high, even the entry-level option may discourage newbs. Or, make the 10-mile round-trip hike to Beaver Falls and wade in the idyllic swimming holes there, as a series of travertine ledges form tiered pools of turquoise water surrounded by red cliffs. “It’s so beautiful that I literally walked to the village and asked how I could live there,” says Berritta (whose request was denied). Totally disconnected from civilization, Havasu Falls is “a whole other world,” he adds. “You’re just one with nature.”

For those who lack the skills (or courage) to leap off a 100-foot cliff, there are other idyllic spots nearby with less imposing launchpads.

THE RED BULLETIN

o est perupta t, sanim natia Maiorum conserum, simporibus chicabo. Et

verehen deriscid et es sinctem serum elitia id quibus er

Spring-fed Havasu Creek forms an opaline-blue oasis amid the Arizona desert. THE RED BULLETIN

Snorkelers will surely enjoy Belize’s pristine coral, but scuba divers can go deep to fully explore the area’s spires.

Off the coast of Belize, the Northern Hemisphere’s largest barrier reef extends 180 miles. 26

THE RED BULLETIN

GLOVER’S ATOLL, BELIZE DIVE AMID A PRISTINE BARRIER REEF

GETTY IMAGES

efore anyone tries to nitpick, we know that coral technically isn’t rock. It’s the stony exoskeleton of tiny, soft-bodied polyps related to jellyfish. But coral sure looks and feels like rock, especially when it forms reefs akin to underwater mountain ranges: Fish shelter in coral caves, and algae grows on coral like lichens on boulders. Plus, coral formations are as scenic as any sculpted stone—particularly off the coast of Belize, where the Northern Hemisphere’s largest barrier reef extends for some 180 miles. Parts of the Belize Barrier Reef fall within seven marine protected areas, but to better conserve the reef as a whole, Belize enacted the world’s first-ever moratorium on offshore oil drilling in December 2017. Glover’s Atoll, on the southern end of the barrier reef, is where snorkelers and scuba divers find Belize’s most pristine corals, representing more than 70 species. Getting here requires a longer commute (two hours by boat from Dangriga or Placencia) than the reefs near busy Ambergris Caye, but visitors are more likely to have sites to themselves—and the underwater treasures are unparalleled, says Seahorse Dive Shop founder Brian Young. Massive mounds of starlet coral and deeply channeled brain coral thrive here, along with formations that resemble tubes, towers, volcano craters, even lettuce leaves. Long Caye Wall displays them all, and since most proliferate within 20 feet of the surface, snorkelers can enjoy the diversity, too. Divers, however, can explore vertical drop-offs to 50 feet (or more, since the wall extends 2,000 feet down), where kaleidoscopic sponges grow and sea turtles cruise. Divers also have an advantage when exploring the Pinnacles, a unique collection of about 30 coral summits ranging from 10 to 100 feet tall. In clear conditions, snorkelers can appreciate the underwater spires, which rise to within 25 feet of the surface. But divers can plumb the sandy channels between the towers and swim with resident tarpons and reef sharks.

THE RED BULLETIN

Yosemite Valley is packed with climbs that mortals can scale, but it’s famed for big walls that can challenge the world’s top climbers.

YOSEMITE VALLE Y, CALIFORNIA

CLIMBING THE FAMED GR ANITE

e can thank Alex Honnold for bringing Yosemite’s hulking granite faces into flatlanders’ living rooms: The 2018 film Free Solo, documenting Honnold’s unroped ascent of El Capitan, made rock climbing a household topic. Dedicated climbers, however, didn’t need an Oscar-winning movie to inspire their reverence for Yosemite Valley, where some of the world’s biggest and most spectacular rock walls have attracted climbers for centuries. Pro climber Katie Lambert was one of those aspirants. The Louisiana native first came to Yosemite in 2001, and “I basically got my ass kicked,” she recalls. Feeling equal parts humbled and awed, Lambert returned the next summer and started a progression that began with the valley’s easiest 5.7 routes. That, plus seven years of living in Yosemite, has taught her the peculiarities of the park’s big rock walls. “You really have to learn how to smear, and broaden your understanding of what’s usable as a foothold,” she says. Consequently, Lambert advises Yosemite firsttimers to choose routes based on their history or aesthetics instead of a braggy grade. The East Buttress of Middle Cathedral, for example, ranks among the valley’s easier long routes at 5.9+ and serves up unforgettable views of El Cap. Braille Book, a 5.8, includes a riveting chimney section. The Serenity Crack/ Sons of Yesterday combo is another (5.10+) classic that’s über-engaging. All of these routes train climbers for the demands of lifelist routes like Astroman, a legendary 5.11c that epitomizes Yosemite’s seemingly endless expanses of smooth, high-quality granite. “You don’t really find that compact, consistent rock anywhere else,” says Lambert. Then, she adds, there’s the grand scale of Yosemite’s cliffs, which represent the ultramarathons of climbing. “It’s not just a physical challenge but also a mental one, to keep going when you’re tired.” Big-wall climbers also get a firsthand glimpse of rock that looks dead—but is anything but. “You get to a particular elevation band on El Cap and you find a bunch of frogs that live there and nowhere else,” says Lambert. That face also claims a unique species of monkeyflower. “I’ll be climbing granite for what seems like forever and then I shove my hand inside a jug in the wall and it’s full of mouse poo,” Lambert says. “I mean, how the hell is that possible?”

THE RED BULLETIN

CHRIS BURKARD/VERB PHOTO

“It’s not just a physical challenge but also a mental one, to keep going when you’re tired.” THE RED BULLETIN

The ledges are from 3 feet to just 8 inches wide—so hikers feel suspended in air as they traverse limestone cliffs.

THE RED BULLETIN

THE DOLOMITES, ITALY SCALING THE VIA FERR ATA

GETTY IMAGES

Where else on earth can hikers tiptoe on ledges in an imposing alpine wonderland and dine on ethereal handmade pasta? The Dolomites are the only right answer. THE RED BULLETIN

taly’s Dolomite Mountains are so steep that they gave rise to a whole new mode of mountain travel: via ferrata. During World War I, when Austria and Italy fought over this terrain, armies needed a way to move troops and supplies across knifelike peaks that were too sheer for roads. So they bolted metal ladders and cables right into the cliffs. Today, hiking enthusiasts still use about 20 of those historic cableways, along with dozens more that have since been purposebuilt for tourism. The classic Via delle Bocchette trail across the Brenta Dolomites near Bolzano, constructed in 1936, remains a favorite thanks to its airy ledge walks. “In the local dialect, bocchette are small ledges,” explains IFMGA guide Roberto Iacopelli, who leads hikers on via ferrata treks throughout the Dolomites (via-ferrata-dolomites.com). The ledges are from 3 feet to just 8 inches wide—so hikers feel suspended in air as they traverse limestone cliffs hovering 2,000 feet above the valleys below. Yet clipping into the cable makes such crossings safe enough for trekkers with limited mountaineering skills. “Via ferratas are great opportunities for hikers to climb the big walls of the Dolomites with minimal technical training,” says Iacopelli. The standard Via delle Bocchette trek spans three days (an extended version lasts five), with overnights at huts called rifugios that serve crazy-good food; fortunately, Italians refuse to eat poorly even while on adventures. Handmade pastas are de rigueur—and so are crowds, thanks to the area’s reputation for spectacular scenery. For a trek with more solitude, consider the via ferrata in the Pasubio Dolomites on the range’s southwestern edge. Iacopelli likes to base-camp at the Rifugio Campogrosso (which he says has the region’s best homemade pasta) and explore peaks that sustained WWI’s heaviest bombardment. “The elevations here are a little lower than in the northern Dolomites,” Iacopelli says. The whole range looks like nothing on earth. That’s because Italy’s tectonic plate is waging a geologic war with the plates underpinning Austria and Germany, creating the tallest uplift along the edge of the Alps. “It’s a unique geology that exists nowhere else in the world,” Iacopelli explains. So while via ferrata has become a popular Italian export that’s been duplicated from the Wyoming Tetons to the Spanish Pyrenees, the Dolomites themselves remain inimitable. 31

MOAB, UTAH

MOUNTAIN BIKING IN SLICKROCK HE AVEN

n 1969, back when the economy and culture in Moab was more about extracting uranium from its rocks than inviting tourists to play on them, a handful of local dirt bikers hatched the idea to create a motorcycle route across the petrified dunes near town. Those vast swaths of windsculpted sandstone feature panoramas of undulating rock extending in all directions to the horizon—like a near-treeless planet

of orange hills. The stone also turned out to be spectacularly grippy beneath a pair of lugged rubber tires: Motorcyclists (and later, mountain bikers) found that the high-traction “slickrock” let them scale ridiculously steep slopes that would otherwise be unclimbable. Biker riders soon started flocking to Moab to ride the Slickrock Trail. In its heyday, 100,000 annual visitors followed the white paint

A skilled rider can spend hours exploring the sandstone playground at Bartlett Wash, located north of Moab.

DAN KRAUSS

The sandstone near Moab is spectacularly grippy beneath a pair of lugged rubber tires. THE RED BULLETIN

GO LOSE YOURSELF IN A LONG WEEKEND.

GO EXPLORE

The riding near Moab is famed for all the right reasons— perfect scenery, outrageous traction and technical challenges galore.

has been very successful in planning and constructing new moto, mountain bike and hiking routes around town, so that now, intermediate and even beginner riders can enjoy the sensation of ripping across hardened dunes. The Navajo Rocks network includes several intermediate-friendly slickrock zones, particularly on the Big Mesa and Rocky Tops trails. Zoltar (in the Klonzo trail system) and Circle O (part of the Moab Brand trails) feature big slabs of slickrock that are suitable for strong novices. But the Slickrock Trail remains the purists’ choice and an epic testing ground. “The descents are over quickly, so you spend a lot of time cranking up steeps,” Fae says. Play that series on repeat over 10 miles? Says Fae, “It’s freakin’ hard.”

DAN KRAUSS

stripes marking the route across sandstone bowls and fiercely steep knobs. Today, the 10-mile loop remains one of most distinctive experiences you can have on a bike. “It’s like Velcro for your tires,” says Moab-based instructor Sylvi Fae, who founded Momentum Mountain Biking. Of course, those formidable pitches also complicate a safe dismount should you lose momentum on your skyward climb (the trailhead’s signboard provides flyers advertising the closest medical clinics and hospital). But with strong technical skills, fitness and commitment, riders on Slickrock Trail achieve seemingly impossible stunts. These days, Slickrock is hardly the only Moab trail to feature grippy sandstone playgrounds. The county’s Trail Mix coalition

THE RED BULLETIN

Pushing the Limits If you think about it, the soul of adventure is all about stepping out of your comfort zone and into new territory. Here, seven writers recount tales of adversity that explore why we test ourselves outdoors. Illustrations DAVID DORAN

Scrapping the Plan By Dave Howard

alfway through the apocalyptic jumble of rocks that shape the Mahoosuc Notch, I paused on a ledge to catch my breath. I was contemplating an American Ninja Warrior lunge onto a granite shelf cantilevered at an awkward angle. Somewhere further ahead was my 15-year-old son, Vaughn. On day two of our four-day Appalachian Trail backpacking trip in Maine, we hit a section widely celebrated as the AT’s hardest mile. Picture an alley wedged between two mountains packed with giant boulders and slabs—a stone labyrinth so intricate that you have to crawl over, around and even under the morass of granite. This mile takes some hikers three hours to clear. “Some of the transitions,” one online guide says, “are high consequence if you fall the wrong way.” Now I understood. As I prepared to leap, Vaughn appeared around a boulder, circling back to check on my progress. This is how we roll on the trail: I never quite feel my age until I see him disappear up ahead of me, only to be relaxing at some overlook when I finally huff up behind him. This time, I was extra aware of my pokey pace, because we were falling behind on the itinerary I’d planned. “Hey dude!” I called out. “Are we having fun here?” I wasn’t positive. “Yeah!” he said. “This is crazy!” Once again, I’d overestimated how much ground we could realistically cover. Perhaps I was bummed that Vaughn was growing up so fast, trying to jam as much into what was left of his childhood as possible. Time felt short. So I was trying to calculate how fast we’d reach New Hampshire.

THE RED BULLETIN

The trail had other ideas. This section has pitches so steep that iron rungs have been installed to save backpackers from having to mimic Tommy Caldwell on El Cap. The previous day, we’d pushed through the long haul up Old Speck Mountain. We’d figured the hard part was over but then had been slowed by an afternoon thunderstorm on a harrowing descent. Wary of going through the notch with slippery surfaces, we ended our day two miles short of our goal. As AT thru-hikers put it: “No rain, no pain, no Maine.” And so there we were, the clock ticking loudly in my head. After we slithered through a few more bends in the notch, we plunked down on a flat slab, shrugged off our packs and opened our bottles. I was doomscrolling the topo map when Vaughn—aware that our water supply was running pretty low—spotted a half-frozen pool lurking beneath the rocks. We hauled out the filter and gulped greedily. It was frigid and bracing, and we held the bag up to the sky and marveled at its utter clarity. “This,” Vaughn proclaimed, “is the best water I’ve ever had.” It was. We sat for a while, quietly. The sun slipped in and I reclined, less concerned now about how far we’d go that day. It suddenly was impossible to ignore the fact that we were spending a precious day in a beautifully remote place. There would be more missteps and detours. That— more than any artificial target I’d set for us—was the point. What would happen wouldn’t be something that we planned, it would be something that we did.

A Bad Idea By Mark Jenkins

he pack horses carrying our climbing gear were named Trump and Pence, foreshadowing the endgame of our mission. I wasn’t sure our wrangler, a grizzled cowboy who once rode from Kansas to Wyoming, meant the names as a compliment. “Depends on whether you think horses have any brains,” he said enigmatically. Four of us—my wife, Martha, and I; Oliver and his wife, Kelly—were hiking up to Lake Elsa, deep in Wyoming’s Bighorn Mountains. It’s Martha’s favorite place on the planet, an alpine tarn at the base of sharp granite spires. Our goal: a first ascent of a remote tower. Oliver and I had been putting up first ascents every summer for decades. Martha and Kelly, both experienced climbers, were intrigued. Oliver and I talked up a beautiful unclimbed peak we’d found on Google Earth. At the lake, our camp stove wouldn’t start. I took it apart with confidence, thought I’d found the problem, reassembled it, lit the burner—and the stove blew up. My down jacket ablaze, Martha scooped water from the lake and put me out. Singed the eyebrows and eyelashes right off my face. The next morning, we hopped talus by headlamp, reaching the base of our unclimbed tower by dawn. After the first pitch, Oliver and I knew something that Google Earth hadn’t disclosed: The rock was utterly rotten. We had to move cautiously so that tombstone-size slabs didn’t rain down on our spouses. At the first belay, both women expressed suspicion. “This seems a little sketchy,” said Martha. “I agree,” added Kelly. “The rock is pure choss.”

But Oliver and I convinced them to carry on for the prized first ascent. They unwisely deferred to our dubious alpine experience. The rock got worse as we climbed. Fearful they might never join us on another adventure, Oliver and I insisted that this was all normal—while whispering to each other that the rock was the worst we’d ever seen. Oliver and I were used to pushing the limits in climbing, but here we were mostly pushing the limits of marriage. We never climbed directly above our wives but rather off to the side, so that when we pulled off blocks, they tumbled clear. Martha and Kelly huddled beneath overhangs, recounting misadventures with their overenthusiastic husbands. At the fourth belay, Martha said the sparks from the tumbling blocks smelled like gunpowder. Kelly pressed us: “Is this really good alpine climbing?” Dodging the question, Oliver insisted that the best way off was to go up. “We’re only one pitch from the top,” I said. “Just one pitch from the glory of a first ascent!” That pitch was the worst. Martha kicked off a stone pillar bigger than she is. Though the summit was so sharp only one of us could stand on top at a time, we’d done it—a first ascent! But before we started down, I saw a rats’ nest of weathered slings tied around a boulder. For a moment, Oliver and I hoped they wouldn’t spot it. “What the hell!” exclaimed Martha, pointing to proof of prior ascents. Luckily, Martha and Kelly just laughed it off. That night at camp, they came up with the name for our route: Chicks on Choss. “A climb totally not recommended.”

THE RED BULLETIN

Getting Up After Getting Over Your Head By Evelyn Spence

he first time I tried mountain biking, with the twisted confidence of youth, I chose Gooseberry Mesa for my inaugural mission—Gooseberry, known for its technical Greater Zion slickrock, death-drop vistas and painted white dots that guide expert riders through bristly manzanita. I pedaled for less than a minute before hitting a nub of sandstone and wrecking hard enough to crack my rental helmet and shred my right elbow. In my shame and pissiness, I didn’t ride a mountain bike again for 10 years. Then selective amnesia set in. I decided to join a multiday, all-women’s downhill MTB clinic led by endurance beast Rebecca Rusch. My glorious comeback was slated to culminate with a descent of Oregon’s Mount Ashland Super D, a course that drops 5,400 feet over 14 miles, known for its steep straightlines, berms and rock gardens. It was an honest mistake: I’ve been known to take up outdoor epics and pull them off (finishing a three-pitch route at Lover’s Leap my first day climbing; tele skiing Corbet’s Couloir at Jackson Hole). I figured I could do the same in Ashland—sandbag a bit, do the selfdeprecation song and dance, nail it. So I showed up wearing Lycra (first blooper). I borrowed clipless shoes from Rusch and got ready to descend some basic singletrack with a half-dozen women with decades of collective downhill experience. I pedaled for 20 seconds before hitting a modest root, grabbing my front brake (second blooper) and flying ass over handlebars with the bike attached to me.

THE RED BULLETIN

I untangled myself from the frame as everyone hovered over me. “Damn, girl!” someone said, pointing to my thigh, where a 6-inch hematoma was blooming. The experienced women gave me passionate hugs. Their expressions of awe seemed to me—with a nostril full of dirt and a chainring imprinted on my glute—like pity. “Do you want to call it a day?” Rusch asked. To be honest, I did. It was another first: I was over my head. I’ve rarely been the absolute worst at anything, so I wanted to bolt. More embarrassing? The female support was so genuine that I felt suffocated, which felt ugly and petulant. But I was too humiliated to quit. Someone left to find flat pedals, and I made it back to the van with nearconstant dabbing and fear. The next day I woke up with a lump in my throat, and I didn’t care whether it was pride or nerves—I swallowed it. I was the last one down every section, always met with a chorus of “you GO girl!” as I pulled up. They practiced tricky features; I walked them. They leaned into the berms; I dragged my feet. But with each vertical foot I dropped, I grew more confident— in my slowly increasing abilities on the bike, sure, but also in my ability to recognize my limits. Near the end of the clinic, I decided to go for it: I rode the entire Super D. I fell. I fell again. I cried. The experienced women finished in 45 minutes; I took two-plus hours. But there was no one around, no one to support me but myself. Sometimes, a tiny crisis and a tiny triumph can feel as valuable as bigger, brasher accomplishments. It wasn’t pretty, but it was pretty tough.

Reclaiming Adventure as a Mom By Heather Balogh Rochfort

small drop of blood trickled down my thigh, and the redness seeped through my trekking pants like a macabre Rorschach test. I unclipped the waist belt of the culprit—the new kid carrier holding our 8-month-old daughter—and evaluated the raw massacre of my hip bones. Frustrated with impossibility, I heaved the backpack onto the ground and threw my broken body on top of the nearest rock. The tears flowed instantly. I can’t do this. Two hours into a five-day backpacking trip through California’s Ansel Adams Wilderness and I was giving up. Before we became parents, my husband and I did this stuff all the time. Backcountry skiing in Colorado. 100-mile packrafting expeditions in Alaska. Ultramarathons in Arizona. We never met a Type 2 adventure we didn’t like, and our relationship was deeply rooted in outdoor extremes. Then we became a family of three, ushering in a new world alongside our baby. Immediately I realized nothing would be the same. Her birth went sideways, resulting in an emergency C-section where I was put under with general anesthesia and completely missed the whole thing. I struggled with low milk supply and finally was dealt the ultimate blow: During my first postpartum backcountry skiing adventure, I obliterated my ACL. After a multihour extraction, I remember riding out in the sled wondering which hurt worse: my knee or my pride. Pre-kid, my body was my champion. But postpartum, I felt like I was living inside an unknown entity that repeatedly failed me. Thankfully, my husband had a generous paternity policy, so we concocted a plan: a three-month road trip through the American West before

I went under the knife for my knee. We’d camp the entire time and teach our daughter how to live her life outside. We tackled our first overnight backpacking trip in Sedona and when that went well moved on to Ansel Adams. But as I wallowed on the rock, despondency reappeared. Could our new life ever look like our old one? “Babe, this is too hard,” I confessed to my husband, who was patiently setting down his own monstrous backpack. “Give yourself five minutes,” he calmly responded. “Then we can turn around if you want.” The seconds ticked by in silence, interrupted only by the wind rustling through the coniferous forest and the occasional sound of my sniffles. I didn’t want to disappoint my husband and I knew he wanted to continue; so did I. This hurt in a way that I didn’t understand, though. My body felt softer and weaker. I felt incapable of enduring. But as the thought danced around the fringes of my mind, our daughter giggled. I lifted my head to see her watching a butterfly flapping around the sunshade of her carrier, and it hit me: What was motherhood if not an endurance sport? What was parenting if not a daily challenge to savor the peaks and persist through the valleys? I dusted off my bloodied pants and pushed myself back to standing. Words weren’t needed; my husband was immediately at my side, helping me shoulder the kid carrier once more. As I cinched the waist belt, I could practically feel the weight leaving my body. Adventuring would never be the same, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sweeter.

Surviving a Very Long Run By Megan Michelson

f the torn hamstring wasn’t a sign, then the raging wildfire inching closer to my house surely was. This run just wasn’t meant to be. I should give up now, I thought, and take up Pilates. My friends Kathleen, Amelia and I were training for our first 50K trailrunning race. The three of us had become running buddies through the pandemic as a safe way to interact with others. On a whim, we’d signed up for

THE RED BULLETIN

the Mount Tam 50K, held in early November. The race would start at the beach and climb 6,800 vertical feet through staircases and switchbacks above the Pacific Ocean, crisscrossing California’s Mount Tamalpais State Park and Muir Woods National Monument, just north of San Francisco. But then wildfires halted our training for weeks. It was late summer 2021, and the devastating Dixie Fire was burning hundreds of thousands of acres across

Northern California, turning our air quality into a smoldering ashtray. When the Caldor Fire broke out south of Lake Tahoe, near where I live, prompting evacuations for thousands of residents, I thought, OK, that’s it. I can’t even breathe outside, let alone run. The race is another pandemic casualty, I figured, one more thing I’d have to cancel. Running 31 miles isn’t something I particularly wanted to do. (Does any sane person want to rise before dawn and run hills for five hours straight?) But it’s something I wanted to know if I could do. I like running—it clears my head— but I’d never run close to this far before. With the fires eventually contained and the air quality stable, we had no excuse not to get back into running. (Silver lining: The pause in training let my hamstring heal.) By November, I was as ready as I was going to be. At the starting line, runners with hydration vests looked way more serious than me, and I felt jittery with nerves. But I had my friends there, and we resolved to start out slow, enjoy the ocean views and try not to whine. Finishing with dignity was the end goal. A few hours later, I found myself slogging up a climb known as Cardiac Hill. I felt surprisingly upbeat, invigorated by the scenery and the strength of my lungs at sea level. I passed a defeatedlooking woman who was walking slowly. “You got this!” I cheered her on as I ambled by. She glared at me silently. On the final downhill toward the finish, I felt that euphoric yet exhausted high you get when you realize you’re almost done with something challenging and there’s a burrito waiting at the finish line. Then the woman I’d passed earlier flew by me on the final mile, looking shockingly fresh. “I ate Oreos at the last aid station!” she hollered on her way by, as if that explained her renewed energy, while I felt like a grubby mess. We all have our moments, I guess. When it was over, Amelia, Kathleen and I peeled off our dusty shoes and plunged into the Pacific Ocean. It felt like I was washing away hours of sweat, months of hard training and years of hesitation, of wondering what my mind and body could truly handle. Turns out we’re all tougher than we think. We just need to light a fire within. 43

Earning a Scar By Tracy Ross

t’s easy to find things to dislike about your body when you hit middle age, but the scar that arcs across my cheek isn’t one of them. Twenty years ago, I was new to Colorado—and to backcountry skiing. Not far from home stood Berthoud Pass, a mecca of deep, steep skiing for those brave enough—and in love enough with the sport—to don climbing skins and trudge uphill for hours to turn around and lap blankets of untouched powder. 44

There’s no way around it. In order to make tracks at high speed in such places, where there are serious avalanche risks and all kinds of other objective hazards, you have to be an expert skier. I was not yet one back then. I was just starving for adventure. I was also fleeing a crap relationship and seeking cooler friends. I had recently moved from Alaska, where I’d had a cabin, ran a dog team and climbed peaks flanking Denali. But I wanted more—acceptance in what

I thought was the most exciting, beautiful, soulful outdoor community. What I didn’t know on the day I ripped my cheek was that I probably already had it. I already had avalanche skills, all the right equipment and a burning desire to haul my body to places few others could get to. I was one of five other women who were skiing Berthoud Pass that day, and probably all of us felt like we had something to prove. That kind of self-imposed pressure usually made me ski better. But, still new to powder, trees, steeps—and powder in trees on steeps—I tended to flounder. I just happened to drop into the exact same line as my friend Thom, a Rastafarian ripper with dreads down to his back. As we both made arcing, opposite-direction turns that brought us directly toward each other, I cut my arc short and skied directly into a tree. I’ve hit trees at higher speeds since then, resulting in some relatively bad injuries (cuts, gouges, a tibia fracture, vertigo that lingers), but none have earned me as much love as that crash did. I slid into it at slow speed, so I was only snagged by branches. I didn’t feel the one that bit me. Powered by adrenaline, I started thrashing to untangle myself. And I did, unaware that blood from the branch bite was seeping down my cheek. I don’t remember it hurting, only laughing when I caught up with Thom and my new boyfriend (now husband), Shawn. That must have made them think there was no alarm, because neither acknowledged the blood. We skied to the shuttle stop. And when I boarded the bus, full of the Colorado shredder dudes I feared and admired, they saw my badass backcountry injury—and instead of expressing any worry, their faces broke into broad, admiring smiles. Then they started clapping. Shawn smiled, too, when he finally took note of it. He removed some gauze from his pack and placed pressure on the cut. Eventually it stopped bleeding. But by then it had won me a spot in the community I cherished. I’ve been a skier ever since. And although I’ve gotten better at not hurting myself, I wear my scar around with pride. Because it reminds me of the best ski day of my life. THE RED BULLETIN

Getting Arrested By Bill McKibben

n a long lifetime of climbing high mountains, skiing long races and exploring truly wild places, I think the scariest thing I’ve ever done might have involved sitting still— pointedly not moving—on a sidewalk in the middle of Washington, D.C. It was late summer of 2011, near the start of what would turn into a decadelong fight against the Keystone Pipeline. Because President Obama had the power to shut down this environmentally ruinous project, I’d written a letter urging others to join me outside the White House; we planned to stay on the sidewalk until we were arrested. It sounds straightforward, and in a way it was. But as the sergeant with the bullhorn gave us our final warning, I found myself struggling to keep cool. I had three sizable fears. What would happen that day? (I’d never been to jail.) What would it do to my life going forward—would I ever be able to get a job again? And was it really OK to be doing this? (I’d grown up white, in the suburbs—if police told you to do something, you obeyed.) When they put the handcuffs on and slung me in the back of the police van, I relaxed a little—there was nothing more I could do. For the next few days in D.C.’s Central Cell Block I had less autonomy than I’d ever had. I obviously couldn’t go anywhere—that’s the point of jail. Eventually, on day three, we were chained at the ankles and walked to the courthouse. I had to put my hand on the

shoulder of the guy in front; my chainmate explained he was there on an attempted-murder rap and was both amused and outraged to find that I was charged with “Failure to Yield.” “Shit,” he said. “That’s not even a misdemeanor—that’s a traffic.” As he predicted, we were soon released, but not before our arrests had spurred many more to join the sit-in— within two weeks, it had become the largest civil disobedience action about anything in the U.S. for some time. And, ultimately, a successful one, building support for a fight that became one of Big Oil’s first big defeats. So, very much worth three days in jail (even though, when you think about, it’s absurd that anyone has to go to jail to get our leaders to pay attention to basic science). I’ve been arrested maybe 10 times since then—we’ve won some of these other fights and lost some, and some are still pending. It’s not the only tool in the activist tool kit, and you don’t want to overuse it, because like any tool it can get dull. But there are moments when it’s the right way to underline the moral urgency of an issue, a signal to people looking on from the sidelines that this matters enough that people will do something hard. Here’s how I’d say it: The planet is miles outside its comfort zone. That’s what a melting Arctic means, or a bleaching Great Barrier Reef, or a drying Amazon or a burning California. So sometimes we’d better get outside ours.

Aqua Punks Photojournalist Franck Seguin lives in a world of shadow and light, following the rock stars of the deep—freedivers on single-breath adventures into the world’s oceans. Words P.H. CAMY

The way of the future Rade de Villefranche-sur-Mer, France, July 2006 “One of my first freediving photos. In those early years, there wasn’t much out there in terms of photography. I started to work with these champions of the scene and wanted to publicize their actions. I became a friend with [four-time world record holder] Guillaume Néry [pictured]. It’s interesting when you’re present at the start of a movement and feel it growing empirically. Here, Guillaume is still wearing swimming goggles. I asked him to get some colored wetsuits rather than his old black ones.”

“These freediving photos are my mental projections.” —Franck Seguin

The walker Mauritius, Indian Ocean, April 2017 “[This image was] captured during the filming of One Breath Around the World—a two-year, globe-spanning project by Guillaume Néry and [his partner] Julie Gautier. It was our last day of shooting, after chasing these sperm whales for more than 10 days. Guillaume is at 20 meters [66 feet], descending into this group of females and their calves; he’s stabilizing, but the perspective makes it look like he’s walking. The sperm whale is the animal kingdom’s most efficient apneist, capable of diving 3,000 meters with a 90-minute apnoea [cessation of breathing]. In this photo, there’s balance to how Guillaume, the whales and the light are placed, but also a story to be told—of the man who walks underwater. I wanted Guillaume to wear the same wetsuit for the whole two years.”

“Freediving is rapidly evolving,” says Franck Seguin. “We’ve come a long way from that photo of Guillaume Néry in his goggles at the start of this piece.” The photojournalist and pictureeditor-in-chief at French daily sports newspaper L’Équipe has been documenting the royalty of freediving for 15 years, mainly focusing on French divers. “At the time, there were about 20 of these guys led by a guru in Nice,” he recalls. “They were adventurers, explorers, leaders probing an unknown world.” Today, thanks in large part to Seguin’s photography, these aqua punks have become rock stars of the deep, and freediving has soared into mainstream consciousness. “Now, everybody practices apnea—under the ice, in the pool, everywhere.” Seguin still works out of Villefranche-sur-Mer, but he also accompanies legends such as Néry and Arnaud Jerald around the world. “When you’re mid-ocean, your perspective changes,” he says. “You feel the full weight of the planet. Freedivers have an exaggerated perception of it, because they’re in contact with nature, immersed in it. When you are surrounded by sperm whales, you become fully aware of it. You tell yourself you’re a microparticle on this planet, that you’re really nothing, and that you must respect it. Because the survival of the planet is our survival.” Instagram: @franckseguinphoto 49

The tomorrow man Rade de Villefranche-sur-Mer, France, August 2020 “Arnaud Jerald will be a great future star of freediving—he’s the new generation, extremely efficient, a modern prototype. [The 25-yearold] has come a long way, as he suffered from dyslexia and [motor coordination disorder] dyspraxia as a boy. He understood that, in 50

freediving, if you want people to listen you have to be the best in depth—the hunt for a record is essential. He invited me to be his photographer for about 10 days during one of his record attempts. The multiplication of his image is a representation of all the thoughts in his head that he must put in order before diving to 111 meters. [In September 2020, Jerald reached 112 meters, breaking the constant-weight bi-fins world record. On July 17, 2021, he smashed that, reaching 117 meters at Dean’s Blue Hole in the Bahamas.]”

Tales from the deep Tahiti, French Polynesia, December 2019 “Guillaume [Néry, right] is always delighted to take Arnaud [Jerald, left] along with him on a project. The idea behind this picture was to see the young prodigy developing alongside a great champion in a shared moment. Here, we’re at 11 meters, not 111, but both are having fun. It reminds me of adventure comics with the plane wreck and the fish following them. It could almost be an illustration.”

Generations (Left, top) Tahiti, French Polynesia, December 2019 “Arnaud Jerald on the left, Guillaume Néry on the right: the young prodigy and the master—roles the two divers are perfectly happy to accept. The photo has a certain symbolism, but we’re not talking about a changing of the guard—Guillaume, the elder of the two, remains the uncontested world’s best.”

Cosmic (Left, below) Rade de Villefranchesur-Mer, France, November 2020 “Néry in space. With this photo I feel I’ve conveyed a cosmic aspect of the depths. The cloud of bubbles with Guillaume coming up—we don’t have the impression we’re in water. Once again, we are in the bay of Villefranche with freedivers I know very well, but I tried to reinvent my style with only one blue background. Here you don’t need a filter on your photo.” THE RED BULLETIN

Superhero (Above, top) Frioul archipelago, Marseille, France, July 2015

confident that nothing [bad] can happen to you. I’ve always seen him as a bit of a superhero. It fits well with this image— he wants to open our eyes to a world we have to protect.”

“Two-time world champion Morgan Bourc’his is a man of extraordinary physical ability and extreme kindness, who reflects on life and his art and cares about others. He’s also an instructor [in Marseille] and when you’re with him you feel

Freediving (Above) Rade de Villefranche-sur-Mer, France, July 2006 “This photo is apnea. It’s the inspiration before diving, or the

first gulp of air when coming back to the surface. Here we are again in Villefranche, a historic place for freediving, during my first collaboration with Guillaume Néry, and we come full circle in this portfolio. This kind of freediving image didn’t exist at the time, and 15 years later, with champions like Arnaud Jerald, I’m following a new generation shaping the future of the discipline. We have new stories to tell.” 55

Of course he sank it. Anthony was photographed in Orlando, Florida, on March 24.

It’s Not Supposed to Be Easy Orlando Magic point guard Cole Anthony, only 22 and already two years into his NBA career, has a world of talent and unlimited potential. And he’s not afraid to do the hard work required to be remembered as a generational talent. Words A.R. SHAW

Photography KEENA

It’s a soggy spring afternoon in Orlando, Florida. Slow and steady rainfall is eventually supplanted by a torrential downpour that covers the outdoor courts at Callahan Neighborhood Center—a recreation facility only a few blocks away from the Amway Center, where Cole Anthony plays home games as the starting point guard for the Magic. The stormy weather threatens to dampen the opportunity for a photo crew to capture images of the Magic’s sophomore sensation on a playground basketball court. However, the rain suddenly stops and the sun peeks out of the clouds. Moments later, the 6-foot-3 Anthony, 22, makes his way to the court. Weathering a storm for brighter days and moments appears to be a common theme in his career. Anthony is wearing red shorts and a red hoodie over his flowing locs, with custom-made sneakers by Adidas in collaboration with Red Bull. The one-ofone sneakers feature a gray, red, blue and yellow colorway with the names of his siblings (Ella, Naomi, Tyson and Leo) stitched on the soles. Inked on his left forearm is an image of a red UNLV basketball jersey with the number 50. It’s a picture of the jersey his father, Greg Anthony, wore during his college days, before he played 11 seasons in the NBA. Cole Anthony currently makes a living in central Florida, but without a doubt he exudes the swagger, style and confidence of a kid raised in New York City. During a spirited game of BULL (a modification of the playground classic HORSE) against his childhood friend, Bryce Council, Anthony executes a multitude of difficult shots—a reverse layup off of a vertical jump from the bottom free-throw hash mark, a jump shot on one foot with his off hand, and an all-net swish while shooting behind the backboard. Then, to satisfy a dare, Anthony makes two consecutive shots with his back to the basket while snarling into the photographer’s camera. Anthony has always moved with a competitive edge, ready to tackle any 58

challenge that comes his way. Even as a kid participating in activities with family and friends, he had an unrelenting desire to be first. “He’s always been competitive,” says his mother, attorney and filmmaker Crystal McCrary McGuire. “Any game that he played—whether it was a board game or any competition in its simplest form—it was very important for him to just win.” Although he was blessed with such a drive, as well as the genes of an NBA player, basketball did not always come easy to Anthony. He was not a starter on his fifth-grade basketball team and admits that he was likely a better baseball player during his preadolescent years. But his passion for the sport led him to hang up his baseball, football and soccer cleats to focus strictly on basketball during his teenage years. By seventh grade, Anthony says that he was finally good enough to beat his father in a game of one-on-one. It was also the age when he dunked for the first time. In terms of skill set, he would soon stand out in comparison to his peers. “By eighth grade, he was doing things on the court that the majority of kids he played with or against were not able to do,” McGuire says. “I knew that there was something special about his combination of skill and competitiveness. At that age, he really started to distinguish himself.” McGuire captured those moments of her son’s growth in a Nickelodeon documentary, Little Ballers, that she produced in 2013. The film followed Anthony and his New Heights AAU (Amateur Athletic Union) basketball team. “I really wanted to cut against so many of the stereotypical images that one might see in the media of Black boys,” McGuire says. “Basketball was the backdrop and canvas of the story. But the heart of it was each of these boys having friendships and a dream.”

The Mecca

It takes exceptional talent to stand out in the basketball mecca, especially at the point guard position. New York City doesn’t just produce point guards; the city unleashes “point gods.” Legendary floor generals such as Nate “Tiny” Archibald, Mark Jackson, Kenny Smith, Kenny Anderson and Stephon Marbury all ruled on the city’s playground and high school courts before breaking records in the NCAA and NBA. Anthony started his high school career at Archbishop Molloy in Queens, making

A schoolboy revelation in New York, Anthony went from high school to the NBA in two years.

“There are levels within the NBA. And to get to that highest level, you need that insane, intense work ethic.”

As the 2021-22 season came to a close, Anthony was averaging more than 16 points and five assists per game.

baskets in the same gym where Smith and Anderson had emerged as top-recruited players in earlier decades. But unlike Smith and Anderson, Anthony was named as a starter from day one of his freshman season. The New York media hailed him as the city’s “best point guard since Stephon Marbury.” An unprepared freshman could have wilted under the pressure of being New York’s next top prospect, but Anthony ignored the outside hype. He just concentrated on getting better day by day. “The most pressure that I had was the pressure that I put on myself,” Anthony admits. “Obviously, I’m an extremely tough critic of myself. I hold myself to a very high level, so that’s probably where most of the pressure came from. I just love this game so much and I want to be great.” In three years at Archbishop Molloy, Anthony dazzled with his skills on the court, going viral with highlights of ankle-breaking crossovers, look-away passes and thunderous dunks. His squad, which featured Moses Brown— who currently plays in the NBA with the Cleveland Cavaliers—advanced to the prestigious Catholic High School Athletic Association championship game during THE RED BULLETIN

his sophomore year. And the following year, Anthony raised his already lustrous national profile by destroying the opposition on the AAU circuit and by leading Team USA to a gold medal at the FIBA Under-18 Americas Championship in Canada. To compete against the best high school players in the nation, Anthony transferred before his senior year to basketball powerhouse Oak Hill Academy. Being a kid from the big city, it was an adjustment for Anthony to leave his family and friends in New York to attend the private school in Mouth of Wilson, Virginia—a town with a population of less than 1,400. “Going from New York to the South is one thing, but going from New York to Mouth of Wilson is another thing,” Anthony says. “I never toured the school; my dad did. So I didn’t really know what I was getting into. It’s a great basketball school, but it is tough there. You’re up in the mountains, there are about 150 kids in the entire school and it is super strict. You have to really love basketball to be able to survive a year. Some kids go there for a couple of years. I don’t know if I would have survived that, but I made it through that year.”

School Daze

Anthony graduated from Oak Hill Academy as the top prospect in the class of 2019 and then headed a bit farther south to lace up his sneakers in Chapel Hill at the University of North Carolina. His very first game at UNC was theatrical, as the star freshman carved up Notre Dame’s defense with precise passes, swift drives to the lane and long-range jumpers. When the final buzzer sounded, Anthony had scored 34 points, breaking the alltime record for most points scored by a freshman at UNC and in the Atlantic Coast Conference—a conference that produced legendary players such as Michael Jordan, Tim Duncan and Chris Paul. Recalling that fairy-tale beginning, Anthony shares how the standout game could’ve put him in a position to be the top pick in the NBA draft. “[That game] was fun, man,” he says, laughing. “At that point I’m like, shoot, I have a chance to be the number one pick in the draft.” But the fun times at UNC turned out to be rather brief. After winning the first five of six games, Anthony suffered a knee injury that forced him to miss 11 games. In his absence, the team faltered and eventually finished in last place in the conference standings. 61

Anthony has the first names of his mother and father inked on his arms.

THE RED BULLETIN

Anthony was invited to participate in the Slam Dunk Contest on All-Star Weekend for a reason.

One month after the final game of the season, Anthony announced his entry into the NBA draft. It was April 2020, a moment in time in which the global pandemic began to take its toll on the nation. While preparing for the draft, Anthony returned to his family’s home in New York. The city was reeling due to high COVID-19 cases and deaths during that spring. Looking for a way to get involved as his city was embattled in a public health crisis, Anthony stepped up to deliver meals to employees at Harlem Hospital. “I know that we delivered a lot of meals to help some of the frontline workers,” Anthony says. “[With COVID-19] it was just case after case after case. I was told by a few doctors that bringing those meals helped to boost morale around the hospital. I just tried to help out.” Among the many disruptions caused by the pandemic, the NBA’s 2019-2020 season was placed on hold and the draft, which usually takes place in June, was postponed. In a normal season, NBA prospects would get an opportunity to boost their stock in the NCAA tournament or at the draft combine. But the entire process was derailed. Anthony had to trust that he had performed well enough

in a partial season at UNC to impress NBA scouts and general managers. “The draft just kept getting moved back,” Anthony recalls. “Honestly, I had no idea what was going to happen. It was just a super crazy thing to go through.”

Making Magic

Before his lone season at UNC, some draft experts had predicted Anthony would be a top-three pick in the NBA draft. But on draft night—which finally came on November 18, 2020, five months later than originally planned— Anthony wound up being picked 15th overall by the Magic. This means that 14 teams passed on a chance to make Anthony their point guard of the future. Some observers viewed him as the steal of the draft. Rather than dwell on his surprise or disappointment, Anthony sees it as a fortuitous outcome, landing him in a perfect spot to start his career. “I personally feel like I ended up in the most ideal situation for myself,” he says. “I have no complaints. I wouldn’t change a thing. I feel like I’m trending in the right direction and I’ve got a lot of work left to do. That’s what I’m here to do. I’ll never cheat the work.”

“I want people to respect how hard I work and how much I sacrificed to get here.”

“I’m an extremely tough critic of myself,” Anthony admits. “I hold myself to a very high level.”

Chasing Greatness

Along with hard work, it takes patience to find the best path to success for younger players. The Orlando Magic entered the 2021-2022 season with the third-youngest roster in the NBA. Anthony and his teammates endured a season full of unexpected highs and perplexing lows. Two days before this interview and photo shoot, the Magic upset the playoffbound Golden State Warriors by a score of 94-90. The following night, they would lose by 16 points to the lowly Oklahoma City Thunder, a team that finished with one of the worst records in the NBA. Those two results reflect the ups and downs of the season. “We all have a lot of growing to do,” Anthony says regarding the Magic’s turbulent season. “I just want to make sure that everyone on the team is getting better. We just have to continue to build our chemistry with each other and work to get better every single day.” At the Callahan Neighborhood Center, a group of Anthony’s fans gathers around the basketball court as he continues his game of BULL. While waiting for an autograph, one fan calls out, “What happened at the dunk contest?” Anthony shrugs his shoulders. “I missed my dunks, bro,” he says. The 2022 NBA All-Star Weekend in Cleveland was a whirlwind for Anthony. 66

He played in the Rising Stars tournament, which featured the top rookies and sophomore players, and he participated in the dunk contest. The dunk contest faced criticism due to its lack of flair and anticlimactic final round. Anthony, who arguably added showmanship to the event by dunking in Timberland boots, responded to the backlash on Twitter by posting, “I’m never dunking again y’all, sorry strictly layups now.” But beyond the dunk contest debacle, NBA All-Star Weekend served as a learning opportunity for Anthony. In a conversation with his mother, he shared how the weekend had an overall impact on his approach to the game. “The Monday after All-Star Weekend, I asked [Cole], ‘What did you learn?’ ” McGuire recalls. “He said, ‘I recognized that there are levels within the NBA. And to get to that highest level, you really do need that insane, intense, consistent work ethic and discipline.’ ” “I always remind him to have fun out there—that it’s the joy of the game that got him interested in it in the first place,” she says. “Once you’re in the NBA, you have to make the decision of what kind of player you want to be. And once you make that decision, that will determine the level of discipline and consistency that you have off the court. There are levels to this.”

In his moments of leisure, Anthony carries that same kind of intensity. Unsurprisingly, he’s an avid video gamer when he’s not on the court, hunkering down for marathon sessions in front of the console. His current game of choice is Elden Ring, which he recently played for seven hours straight. Anthony has also delved into the world of entrepreneurship by collaborating with the clothing brand CYISOON (Count Yourself In, make Something Out of Nothing), which is owned by Council. Anthony and Council view the brand as a tool to inspire the next generation. “The idea clicked for us to make something with some meaning,” says Council. “We really want to inspire and motivate the next Bryce Council and Cole Anthony. Everyone’s path is different, but at some point, you will have to put the work in.” Back at the playground, the photo shoot has concluded. Anthony handily beat Council in two straight games of BULL. And now he’s stopped to sign an autograph for a teenage fan. Another fan yells, “Good luck on the rest of the season,” while standing outside of the gated court. Anthony answers “thanks!” with a big smile. Anthony’s second season in the NBA, which will be over by the time you read this, began as a redemption tour of sorts. After being overlooked by franchises in the lottery on draft night, he was denied a place on the NBA All-Rookie teams. He called out the voters in a tweet: “I ain’t even gone lie y’all are mad disrespectful.” He made it a point to prove the naysayers wrong at the start of this season by averaging over 20 points per game while shooting 41 percent from 3-point range in the first 10 games. He finished the season averaging roughly 16 points per game and five assists, highlighted by explosive scoring bursts— like the nights he put up 31 points on the Minnesota Timberwolves and scorched the defensive-minded Utah Jazz for 33. Anthony already stands out among his draft class, but he’s seeking more. He doesn’t want to be known as just a good player. He hopes to be remembered as a generational talent. “I just want people to respect how hard I work and how much I sacrificed to get here,” he says. “Ultimately, I want to be in the Hall of Fame, so I’m going to work as hard as I can. I plan on accomplishing all of my goals.” THE RED BULLETIN

Anthony aspires to play a Hall of Fame career and knows it will take very hard work to succeed.

LIVING ON A PRAYER All-female metal band Voice of Baceprot are accustomed to prejudice—whether in their conservative hometown in West Java for embracing “the devil’s music” or in the Western world for wearing their hijabs. But on stage, only one thing matters to the trio: the power of rock. Words ALICE AUSTIN

Photography KEFFER

Voice of Baceprot, photographed in Rennes, France, last December. From left to right are bassist Widi Rahmawati, drummer Euis Sitti Aisyah and singer-guitarist Firdda Marsya Kurnia.

itti, Widi and Marsya, the young women who make up the Indonesian metal band Voice of Baceprot, come as a pack of three. They link arms when they walk, and they’re so similar in height they could be mistaken for triplets. They also never stop laughing. It’s a contagious laugh, the sound of youth and discovery, and everyone is in on the joke, even though they are speaking in their native Sundanese. Voice of Baceprot eat food off each other’s plates, prop each other up when they’re tired, and when they nap—which happens a lot on this tour—each sleeps with an arm, leg or head resting on one of the others’. It’s as though they’re worried that if they let go of each other, they might float away. 70

This makes sense, for no band in the world is quite like them. Voice of Baceprot—Baceprot means “noisy” in Sundanese—are from Singajaya, a small village in West Java, Indonesia. Singajaya has no WiFi and no recording studio, but a family of five living there can exist on $40 a month. Voice of Baceprot (often abbreviated to VOB) formed in 2014 after the three friends stumbled across heavy metal band System of a Down’s 2001 album Toxicity while poking around on their school guidance counselor’s PC. Sitti, then 14, spent the best part of a month learning the drum score on their school’s meager kit. Marsya did the same on guitar and Widi on bass, and soon they had nailed their first cover. The counselor whose computer they’d hacked, Ahba Erza, was astonished by their passion and talent and dedicated himself to nurturing whatever seed he’d inadvertently planted.

t’s 12:30 p.m. on a cold, clear December Saturday in Rennes, in northwest France, and the band is sitting in a ramen restaurant, spooning chili sauce into their soup. “They find the food here a bit bland,” says their manager, Nadia Yustina. Tonight’s set at Les Rencontres Trans Musicales is the trio’s firstever European festival performance, but if they’re nervous it doesn’t show. They’re talking over each THE RED BULLETIN

Flying solo: This is what happens when you ask Marsya about her hijab; (opposite) VOB brave the chill for a photo op outside the venue.

THE RED BULLETIN

other in a mixture of Sundanese and English, trying to explain how they have zero friends. “In my village, if someone sees me, they turn their back like this,” says Marsya (full name Firdda Marsya Kurnia), the 20-year-old lead singer and guitarist. She turns so only the black folds of her hijab are visible, before spinning back with a bright grin. “It’s true!” “Yes,” adds drummer Sitti (Euis Sitti Aisyah), also 20. “But some people who were mean at school message us when they want something.” Bassist Widi (Rahmawati), the band elder at 21, shakes her head disapprovingly. Although they claim to have no friends, VOB have plenty of followers—164,000 and rising on their collective Instagram, and more than 30k each individually. Indonesia is the world’s largest Muslim majority nation, and West Java is particularly conservative. Many in VOB’s community believe music is haram (forbidden by Islamic law), so they didn’t react well when the trio ventured into metal. Marsya was hit on the head by a rock wrapped in a note that read: “Stop making the devil’s music.” She was also purposely hit by a motorcyclist, and her mother’s shop window was smashed in. Once, a religious leader pulled the main power supply just before VOB went on stage, and their manager has received threatening phone calls pressuring her to break up the band. Needless to say, VOB aren’t messing around; these young women have sacrificed everything to make their dreams a reality. The three wolf down their noodles. They worked up an appetite this morning after a slew of interviews. They’d struggled with questions from one French journalist who’d been hyperfocused on their hijabs. “Here in France,” she’d said, “we think women who wear veils are oppressed. Are you oppressed?” “They’re not veils,” Nadia said. “They’re hijabs.” “OK, hijabs. Are you oppressed?” Marsya explained how religion brings her joy and strength; that she wears her hijab out of choice and she sees it as a symbol of peace and beauty. The band members aren’t surprised by these questions, but they are fatigued. Nadia explained Europe’s perception of Islam to them before the tour began. “I had to tell them what the stereotypes are, so they can be prepared for it,” she says. After lunch, just before the next round of interviews, Sitti asks Nadia what would happen if she ran into the middle of the square saying she had a bomb, but filled her bag with wet, smelly socks for the police to find when they arrested her. “Don’t do that,” Nadia replies.

Many in their community believe music is forbidden by Islamic law, so they didn’t react well when the women began playing metal.

etal is massive in Indonesia. Even the country’s 60-year-old president, Joko Widodo, describes himself as a metalhead. The scene is densely populated and thriving, with festivals such as Hellprint, Hammersonic and Rock in Solo attracting hundreds of thousands of revelers every year. Nadia has managed bands in the maledominated scene for decades and was intrigued

THE RED BULLETIN

Positive feedback: (opposite) A job well done for singerguitarist Marsya; (top) “Saw the band, got the T-shirt”— a souvenir from VOB’s Fight Dream Believe Tour, their first-ever European adventure; (above) Marsya wrote her stirring speech on her phone just before going on stage.

Back in black: (top) The three friends can most often be found huddled close in a tight group, laughing together; (above) VOB’s tour outfits were made from a material traditionally worn in their province of West Java—with rock-band embellishments.

Hard rock life: (top) “Hello Rennes!”—Sitti’s view from the drum stool; (above) in the hour leading up to their European festival debut, the band members barely spoke at all, solemnly practicing their instruments in the dressing room instead.

God gave rock ’n’ roll to you: Voice of Baceprot pose in front of a sell-out crowd at Les Rencontres Trans Musicales in Rennes, France. They may flash the “horns” sign and play “the devil’s music,” but they say their religious faith keeps them grounded.

when she got the call from Ahba Erza in 2017, asking for help managing VOB. She drove for 11 hours from Jakarta to meet the band in their village and spent two hours explaining the pitfalls, hierarchy and politics of the music industry and what to expect from fame. Then she asked if they had any questions. Marsya raised her hand. “How do you eat on an airplane when the food is flying all around?” “Yes,” Widi added gravely, “and how do you pee?” That’s when Nadia knew she had to be part of their journey. In 2017, VOB performed across Indonesia, appeared on national television and were featured in The Guardian. The following year they released their debut single, “School Revolution,” an intricate thrash-metal track that showcased their technical 76

prowess and deft songwriting skills. The single sent the band international, with articles appearing in The New York Times and on media outlets including the BBC, NPR and German state-owned broadcaster DW. Then COVID came along and brought everything to a halt. But Nadia saw this interruption as an ideal time to polish the band’s self-taught skills, so she made the long drive to their village to explain to their families why the three young women should move to the capital, Jakarta. That’s where VOB now share an apartment, although they spend a lot of time at Nadia’s place, splashing about in her pool in between band practice. The trio have spent the past year under the guidance of members of Indonesian rock bands Musikimia and Deadsquad and jazz-bass player Barry Likumahuwa. But getting to this stage THE RED BULLETIN

The expression on the crowd’s faces is a mix of shock and delight. How can a trio this small make a noise so big? has not been smooth sailing. As with their struggles within their village community, VOB had to fight to be accepted into the Indonesian metal scene. Some local bands didn’t appreciate three young women coming along and stealing the show. They talked smack behind their backs and claimed VOB were paying to perform at festivals. Nadia wasn’t having any of it, though, and gave every one of these grown men a piece of her mind. Now, years later, VOB have their full support. The band’s 2021 single, “God Allow Me (Please) to Make Music,” received airplay on every major station in Indonesia, and reposts from every metalhead on the scene. VOB’s songs address issues such as religious tolerance, climate change, misogyny and war, and Nadia admits she sometimes feels guilty about the responsibility on their shoulders. “It’s up to them to show the world what Islam means in Indonesia,” she says, “and to show the youth of Indonesia they can do whatever they set their minds to.” It can become overwhelming, and Nadia worries for the mental health of the three young band members: Marsya has suffered panic attacks, and since Sitti lost her mother to a stroke earlier this year her hands sometimes shake uncontrollably. But their religion keeps them grounded. “I have someone who listens to me and my story and my sadness,” Sitti says. “If I tell it to a human being, I might get an unexpected response, but when I tell God, it is OK.” “Religion is a friend for me,” Marsya concurs. “Wherever I feel worried or scared about something, I talk to God. He’ll never blame me like other people and he’ll always listen to whatever I say.” “When I pray to my god,” Widi adds, “it gives me the strength to believe that I can achieve my dreams.”

very winter, Les Rencontres Trans Musicales lights up the city of Rennes. The festival acts as a trend forecaster, showcasing what will be the next big thing—Daft Punk, Cypress Hill, Björk, M.I.A., Portishead and Nirvana have all played here. Tonight, VOB are performing in Concert Hall 3, a vast and cavernous venue about the length and width of two soccer fields.

THE RED BULLETIN

The band and their manager huddle backstage. Nadia whispers earnestly, then they all hug tightly, stamp their feet and release. As the concert hall fills, their light laughter subsides into nervous silence. The band wear black outfits made of traditional material from their West Javan province. Sitti sits on an amp, air drumming with her eyes shut. Marsya silently recites lyrics, and Widi plucks at an imaginary bass, her face a shade paler than usual. “You know, we feel like we’re alone when we’re up there,” Sitti says. “So we promise each other that when we’re not on stage, we’ll always stay close.” The lights go down—it’s time. The women position themselves behind their instruments, and when the lights come up again the three look tiny, facing the vast crowd in this massive space. But then Sitti lifts her sticks above her head and bashes the hihat four times, and it’s like they’re instantly bigger than life. The crowd is hit with a tsunami of sound. Marsya headbangs as she pounds her guitar; Widi slaps her bass with a face-splitting grin. The crowd’s expressions are a mix of shock and delight: How can a trio this small make a noise so big? “Bonsoir, France!” Marsya shouts as their opening track comes to a crashing end. “We’re Voice of Baceprot. Thank you for having us!” The response is deafening. The band launch into “School Revolution.” The photographers in the pit bang their heads between snaps. Behind them, middle-aged metalheads throw their rock ’n’ roll hand signs high above their heads. Marsya steps up to the mic as the final notes ring out. Her nerves have disappeared, replaced with the charisma of a seasoned frontwoman. “Before this show, we had some interviews and everyone asked about our hijabs,” she says, standing with her legs apart, staring defiantly at the audience. “And you know what? It makes me feel like we came here for a fashion show. So now I’ll tell you: We came here to make our dreams come true and to show you that our hijab is a sign of peace, love and beauty!” The crowd bellows its approval. “And you know what we do if someone asks about our hijabs?” she continues. “This is what we do!” Sitti pummels her drum kit, rolling, crashing and hammering to high heaven. The metalheads roar with admiration. “And you know what we do if someone uses hateful words toward us? This is what we do!” Widi stabs at the bass with deft, experienced fingers, hitting frequencies so deep the monitors visibly shake. “And you know what we do when someone asks if the hijab is our choice? This is what we do!” The band fly into Rage Against the Machine’s “Killing in the Name.” And as Marsya screams into the mic, Sitti batters the drums and Widi wallops the bass, it’s undeniable that something special is happening here. It feels like Voice of Baceprot have the power to change the world. voiceofbaceprot.com 77

SUBSCRIBE NOW

10 issues The Red Bulletin

ONLY $12

getredbulletin.com

guide Get it. Do it. See it.

EXPEDITION WILD Ready to test your mettle? A new North American partnership hopes to bring grassroots adventure racing into the limelight in a big way. Words HEATHER BALOGH ROCHFORT

JS O’CONNOR

The new North American Expedition Race Series will include the Endless Mountains Adventure Race in Pennsylvania.

THE RED BULLETIN

G U I D E

Do it

dventure racing just got bigger and better in the U.S. Thanks to a new partnership between three regional race organizers, we now have a showcase for expedition racing on this side of the pond. In its inaugural season, the North American Expedition Race Series will comprise Bend Racing’s Expedition Oregon, Hoodoo Adventures’ Expedition Canada and Rootstock Racing’s Endless Mountains Adventure Race in Pennsylvania. Even better: Each race is on the Adventure Racing World Series, which means winners of any of the three races will earn points on the world circuit and an invite to the championships. “We hope that racers will feel that there is a cohesive continental effort designed to support them,” says Abby Perkiss, co-founder of Rootstock Racing. “The more we create practices that support racers and race directors at every level, the better our sport will be positioned.” While wildly popular in Europe and New Zealand, adventure racing in North America is like the younger sibling—still working to catch up. This grassroots team sport asks participants to excel in multiple activities, like biking, trekking, paddling and orienteering with a map and compass (no GPS allowed) through wilderness along an unknown course. Races vary in length, but adventure races are shorter, lasting anywhere from 2 to 36 hours. Expedition races enjoy the same multidisciplinary activities but a longer duration—3 to 11 days. “The complexity of a 36-hour race is very different than an expedition race because you don’t have to manage sleep deprivation,” says Jason

Magness, co-founder of Bend Racing alongside his wife, Chelsey. “Sleep is the critical division between adventure and expedition.” Although sleep is crucial, Magness maintains that teamwork can make or break the experience. Individual competitors are not allowed in any of the races, and only coed teams of four are eligible for the top prizes and ranking with the United States Adventure Racing Association (USARA). “In the outdoor world, you have teamwork with things like expedition climbing, where

you’re working together,” Jason Magness says. “But in adventure racing, you add a time element, which means that you don’t get to take as long as you want or sleep as long as you want. This practically guarantees that every team out there will have a few ‘epics,’ like when the storms hit and you’re on the mountain or you lose a paddle in the river. It’s your team— your friends—that are there with you when it happens.” Not only does the threerace collaboration offer better accessibility for North

American athletes, but it also provides standardization and continuity. As Perkiss sees it, this doesn’t mean there is less adventure; rather, racers get the enjoyable experience they’re looking for. “We want to create some consistency,” explains Perkiss. “Racers know what type of gear and rules to expect when they sign up for these races. There won’t be any surprises like, ‘Oh, my helmet worked at this race but not the next one.’ ” Ready to give one of the races a try? Here’s what you need to know.

Called “America’s Toughest Race,” Expedition Oregon isn’t for the faint of heart.

THE RED BULLETIN

Adventure Races In Oregon, teams are expected to packraft rapids and trek through lava fields.

America’s Toughest Race EXPEDITION OREGON

DARREN STEINBACH, JASON CORNELL(2)

America’s Toughest Team is bringing us America’s Toughest Race. The brainchild of Chelsey and Jason Magness, Expedition Oregon isn’t for the faint of heart. After decades of racing around the world, including winning highprofile endurance slogs like the Patagonia Expedition Race, the Magness family settled in Bend, Oregon, where they now host a slew of shorter adventure races through their company, Bend Racing. In 2018, they tackled their dream and launched Expedition Oregon, now widely known as the most difficult race in the United States, with a mission statement proclaiming, “We don’t give a damn whether you finish or not.” And that’s not just lip service: Jason, the mastermind behind the course, is less concerned about a fun and happy environment and more focused on challenging his participants. Case in point: The 2022 course covers more than 300 miles over six days, boasting a technical route designed for experienced racers.

THE RED BULLETIN

In addition to navigation, teams will have to packraft whitewater rapids, negotiate waterfalls, trek through lava fields and mountain bike an unforeseen number of miles. At first glance, the biking may appear to be the easiest place to catch a midrace breather, but don’t be fooled: Last year’s “monster bike” saw more racers hike-a-bike over fallen trees than ride across anything described as smooth or flowy. Rock climbing and rope work will also make notable appearances in this

year’s event, and not in a basic way. Past years have found racers rappelling with their bikes secured to their backs, so chances are good that participants will see something equally as challenging. “That’s the thing about our races: It’s easy to make the pain go away. You just stop,” Jason Magness says. “But at some point, if you want to cross our finish line, you have to see what it’s like a little deeper in the pain cave. You’ll just hang out there for a while, feeling like a shell of a human, but that’s the experience our racers are looking for.” To be sure, this isn’t a race for beginners. All applicants are screened beforehand to ensure they have the experience and skills needed to successfully thrive—and survive—on the course. “It’s just too risky for us to take on beginners,” explains Chelsey Magness. Make It Happen Expedition Oregon runs May 7-15, 2022, in central Oregon. Teams of two, three and four racers are allowed, with a maximum of 25 teams. Registration for the race is $5,000 per team.

Biking might seem like the easy bit in Oregon, but don’t be fooled.

G U I D E

Do it Beginners Welcome Here ENDLESS MOUNTAINS

Adventure racing thrives on mystery and the unknown, but that also makes it tough for newbs to know which race might be the best one to dip their proverbial paddle in the whitewater. Fortunately for beginners, Endless Mountains’ organizers have made it clear: You are welcome in Pennsylvania. Endless Mountains comes from the minds of Perkiss and Brent Freeland, cofounders of Rootstock Racing. Like so many Americans, the duo’s first encounter with adventure racing came with a remote control on a cozy couch while watching EcoChallenge on TV in the mid-

1990s. A few decades later in 2015, the wife-and-husband team launched Rootstock with a series of shorter adventure races. But 2022 brings their first foray into expedition racing with the Endless Mountains course, a five-day, 342-mile route that wraps through a remote and underappreciated region known as the Pennsylvania Wilds. Teams will canoe, packraft, trek, mountain bike and orienteer their way through 2 million acres that includes eight state forests, 29 state parks and countless small villages and towns teeming with local history. Perkiss is willing to offer more specifics—176 miles of biking, 81 miles of

trekking and 85 miles of paddling—but that doesn’t mean this beginner-friendly course is easy. “I think more than many other expedition races, our event will have lots of navigational challenges,” she hints. “Folks who have done our other races have come to expect that we send a lot of people overland on foot.” Our advice? Sharpen your micronavigation skills before heading to the Keystone State. Make It Happen Endless Mountains runs June 18-25, 2022, in Clarion, Pennsylvania. Teams of two, three and four racers are allowed, with a maximum of 40 teams. Registration begins at $950 per person.

“We hope that racers will feel that there is a cohesive effort designed to support them.”

The 2022 Endless Mountains race in Pennsylvania will be a 342-mile route that welcomes beginners.

THE RED BULLETIN

Adventure Races Expedition Canada’s course in British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley.

JS O’CONNOR, NATHAN KARSGAARD/EXPEDITION CANADA (3)

Ready to Level Up EXPEDITION CANADA

Like Goldilocks, this new racing trifecta has a perfect fit for everyone. If you’re not quite ready for the sufferfest of Expedition Oregon but want to progress your skills beyond Endless Mountains, then Expedition Canada may be your sweet spot. Nestled in the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, the racecourse is deftly designed to take full advantage of the varied regional terrain. “Our valley goes from 300 meters to 2,300 meters really quickly, so it’s easy to go up and down,” says Nathalie Long, the event manager for Hoodoo Adventures and course designer for Expedition Canada. “We have world-class biking trails and a lake that is 100 kilometers long. The area is built for adventure racing.” In its second year, Expedition Canada is leaping into longer distances, tacking an additional 86 miles on to

THE RED BULLETIN

last year’s course. That means the 2022 event will cover 335 miles (540 kilometers) over six days. “Every time I stumble upon a place that I find magical, I want to share it with other people,” Long says. “So this year’s route got really long.” As with the other races, trekking, navigation, paddling (both canoe and packraft), rope work and mountain biking are key elements, although Long notes that racers can expect more biking than is typical in an expedition race: “I designed my course to make sure that a beginner team will have fun and reach the finish line, but they shouldn’t expect to do the full course. If it’s your first time, the short course is plenty.” Make It Happen Expedition Canada runs June 3-11, 2022, in Kelowna, British Columbia. Teams of four racers are allowed, with a maximum of 30 teams. Registration begins at $4,045 per team.

The Okanagan Valley boasts world-class biking trails. This year’s route tacks on an extra 86 miles.

G U I D E

Do it

“It was a long process to find where I fit in,” says Burbidge-Smith of her transition to freeriding. “I feel like what I’ve got now is exactly where I want to be.”

TRAIN LIKE A PRO

“DON’T LET GO OF THE BIKE”

With Formation’s return, Harriet Burbidge-Smith reveals how she trains to huck big airs and shred downhill runs in freeride mountain biking. Words JEN SEE

arriet “Haz” Burbidge-Smith, 25, can’t remember a time when she did not ride a bike. She started racing BMX around the age of 4 in her hometown of Canberra, Australia, and hasn’t stopped since. “I was so pumped to be there every time,” she recalls. “I’ve always known that the bike is my happy place.” That kind of passion for riding helped propel Burbidge-Smith to eight Australian national championship titles in BMX and fueled Olympic dreams. But then her priorities shifted. “The last few years doing BMX racing, I felt like something was missing,” she says. When a friend invited her to Crankworx

Whistler in 2018, Burbidge-Smith fell in love with the mix of racing and creativity freeride mountain biking offered. Taking a leap, she left BMX. An invitation to Red Bull Formation in 2021 changed everything. BurbidgeSmith backed a breakout performance at Formation with a win in Slalom and a podium finish in Speed and Style at Crankworx Innsbruck. Then she won Speed and Style at Crankworx Rotorua. Burbidge-Smith has made a habit of saying yes to every opportunity, and she’s not afraid to step out of her comfort zone and do the work. “Be humble and ride your bike every day,” she says.

THE RED BULLETIN

Fitness

O N TH E B I KE

“I’m working to build endurance” “I’m never in one place for long. Right now, I’m in Queensland, New Zealand, which may be the best place in the world to train for mountain biking. Usually, I do mornings at the bike park. In the afternoon, maybe I hit some dirt jumps. It’s heavily skill-based. I’m working on endurance. A BMX race is only about 30 seconds, while some of the Crankworx events like the Air Downhill and Downhill are three or four minutes and sometimes longer. So I try to incorporate longer rides, which is easier when you have friends to go ride with.”

STR E N GTH

GRAEME MURRAY/RED BULL CONTENT POOL

“A strong core is important” “It’s important to work on stability and just be really strong. I’m always in a forward position on the bike, so I need a strong chest, back and arms. And legs are a massive part of riding. A strong core means I can brace myself for impacts. Kettlebell swings are great for my core and back—I put them into a Tabata workout, with 40 seconds on and 40 seconds off for eight rounds. I also do rowing intervals. I try to incorporate other muscles with exercises like squats and deadlifts. If you do those properly, you’re also engaging your core.”

THE RED BULLETIN

M E NTAL TR AI N I N G

“I go back over the tricks in my mind” “One trick I’ve been focusing on lately is the backflip to dirt. Every night before bed, I do a structured meditation around that goal. And every time that I practice flips into the airbag, I go home and go back over everything in my mind. Meditation helps cement the trick in my mind. I try to re-create the feeling that I want to have when I do it—that excitement. I have prompts in my mind, words or some movement that will trigger that feeling. With the backflip, my whole thing was ‘pull and hold on.’ You don’t want to let go of the bike.”

R EC OV E RY

“Stretching and foam rolling are great” “A good recovery habit in New Zealand is to go for a swim, because the water is nice and cold. I try to stretch and foam roll with a partner; that helps ensure we’re both doing it long enough. Like a lot of mountain bikers, I often stretch my hip flexors. They get really tight because I’m pedaling in a crouched position. Getting into a lunge position opens up your midsection. Then I use the foam roller on my lower back. I also do hangs from a bar, which open up my back. I get lots of tightness in my shoulders and neck from airbag sessions.”

“IT HELPS TO HAVE FRIENDS AROUND MAKING HEALTHY CHOICES” “It’s hard to follow a set nutrition plan on the road, so I just try to make sure I’m not slipping into bad habits. Small choices matter, like reducing sugar, or how you have your coffees. (I use oat milk when I can.) Having friends around who are making healthy choices helps me stay on top of it.”

G U I D E

See it

May RED BULL DANCE YOUR STYLE NATIONAL FINALS In just a few short years, this all-styles street-dance event has celebrated and amplified unique talents from around the globe. From hip-hop and house to locking and popping, dancers must ultimately “wow” the crowd to be declared a winner. This year, after battling across the country, the winners of Dance Your Style’s qualifying events will gather in New Orleans to compete for the U.S. title—and a chance to compete at the world finals in December. redbull.com

19 May

RED BULL CULTURE CLASH This innovative livemusic experience returns to the U.S. this summer with two shows on two different coasts: New York on May 19 and Los Angeles on June 24. Inspired by Jamaican sound system culture, Culture Clash is more than a DJ battle or band competition. Instead, four distinct crews take over separate corners of a venue and face off for a four-round bout, bringing big sound, heavy tunes, fierce competition and an exciting roster of special guests, all in an effort to outshine their competition and win over the crowd. In New York at the Warsaw in Brooklyn, the crews will include Apocalipsis, Club Cringe, Half Moon and Corpus. For more info and tickets, visit redbull.com/ cultureclash

June BENTONVILLE BIKE FEST This three-day event in Bentonville, Arkansas, returns for its second year, building on last year’s success to become a premier cycling event that welcomes fans and families of all ages and skill levels for a weekend full of exhibitions, live entertainment and competitions in a wide range of disciplines, including enduro, gravel, sprint racing, trials, a hill-climb challenge, a BMX flatland event —and more. bentonvillebikefest.com

THE RED BULLETIN

Calendar

June BONNAROO

June

LITTLE SHAO/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, BENJAMIN ADAMS/BONNAROO, DEAN TREML/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, BENTONVILLE BF

RED BULL SOAP BOX RACE Considered the grand prix of soapbox races, this amateur event challenges teams to prototype and build the wackiest of rides and then propel their homemade vehicles down a hill—fueled by nothing but courage and the force of gravity. Over the years, vehicles have ranged from realistic replica cars to designs made to look like baby carriages, pianos and corn on the cob. Ready to put your imagination to the test? This month, the nonmotorized street race heads to Des Moines, Iowa. redbull. com/soapbox

After two years of difficult cancellations—first due to the pandemic in 2020, then a devastating flood in 2021—this beloved music and arts festival is back for a four-day blowout in Tennessee. This year’s lineup includes an eclectic mix of genres and artists, both young and old, including rappers J. Cole and 21 Savage, DJs Illenium and Gryffin and living legends Robert Plant and Stevie Nicks. bonnaroo.com

23 June

ELECTRIC FOREST For fans of design, this four-day fest in Rothbury, Michigan, is a feast for the eyes, where the mind-blowing stage design is the centerpiece. Founder Jeremy Stein has described it as a “constantly evolving dream environment.” We call it a psychedelic mind trip. This year’s lineup includes the Disco Biscuits, Griz, Sylvan Esso, Porter Robinson, Louis the Child, Slander, EarthGang, Toro y Mo and many more. Thru June 26. electricforestfestival.com

THE RED BULLETIN

4 June RED BULL CLIFF DIVING WORLD SERIES It’s been nine years since the Red Bull Cliff Diving World Series last touched down in Boston, and this highly anticipated return marks a twofold premiere. For the first time, the Institute of Contemporary Art will serve as the season-opening venue, in a year in which the competitions will be more easily accessible to fans than ever before. In addition, the waterfront museum will be the debut for the women divers, including fivetime series champ Rhiannan Iffland of Australia, Canadians Jessica Macaulay and Molly Carlson and American Ellie Smart. (To learn more about Smart’s incredible journey, see page 9.) redbull.com

WILDEST DREAMS Whether you’re car camping, day hiking or backpacking, here’s the newest gear to make your outdoor adventures amazing. Words JOE LINDSEY

Gregory’s daypacks are light, comfortable and just roomy enough for a big oneday adventure.

G U I D E

D AY

H I K I N G

GREGORY INERTIA 24/SWIFT 22

RAB DOWNPOUR ECO

RUFFWEAR SWITCHBAK

VASQUE TALUS XT LOW GTX

SALOMON OUTPULSE MID GORE-TEX

ALLTRAILS PRO APP

You’re out for a day hike—what will you need? Water, sunscreen, snacks, a rainshell, maybe a hat or a sweater, to start. Gregory’s new packs, the men’s Inertia and women’s Swift, with 24 and 22 liters of storage, respectively—are roomy enough for those essentials. The included 3D hydro reservoir holds two liters of water, and the perforated, 3D foam back panel and harness ensure that it carries light and keeps you cool. Smaller sizes available. $120; gregorypacks.com

If you venture onto rugged trails, or off them entirely, you need a shoe that can keep up. This is Vasque’s most stable and supportive low-top shoe, with a grippy Vibram outsole and a polyurethane midsole to cushion and protect your soles. The nubuck leather upper resists abrasion on rocky scrambles, and the mesh panels and Gore-Tex liner balance breathability and weather protection. Comes in regular and wide styles. $200; vasque.com

A rainshell is insurance against bad weather. And the Downpour Eco is so light, packable and affordable that there’s no reason not to bring it. The breathable, wind- and waterproof Pertex Shield fabric is 100 percent recycled and formulated to make the jacket recyclable when the sturdy piece finally wears out. Still, it’s just 11.2 ounces and stuffs into its own pocket, even with features like pit-zip ventilation and a roomy hood. $120; rab.equipment

These kicks have the light weight and bouncy sole of a running shoe and the grip, support and stability of a hiking boot. Blocky tread lugs and a Contagrip outsole compound will grip wet rocks to mud, while the midheight design supports your ankles on rough, uneven ground. The GoreTex lining keeps you dry, and a rubberized toe rand helps fend off rocks and roots. Available in men’s and women’s styles. $160; salomon.com

This lightweight harness is perfect for getting your dog on the trail. The padded construction and six-point attachment with padded belly strap make it comfortable and chafe-free, while lowprofile pockets hold treats, pickup bags, etc. It has reflective accents and two leash attachments, one on the back and one on the chest that’s great for controlling dogs who pull. The top handle helps you give your pup a boost on steep trails. Available in four sizes. $70; ruffwear.com

This app consistently gets rave reviews. For $30 a year, you get full profiles on over 300,000 trails worldwide, sorted by length and difficulty, and features: “Dog-friendly!” “Open to bikes!” Check trail conditions and weather before you go. Detailed maps and navigation use your phone’s GPS to help you stay on trail, and the Pro version downloads maps to work offline when you’re out of range. Lifeline lets personal contacts track your progress for safety. $30/year; alltrails.com

The versatile Salomon Outpulse Mid Gore-Tex is one part running shoe, one part hiking boot. THE RED BULLETIN

G U I D E

C A R

YETI HOPPER M30

Hardside coolers take up a lot of space when they’re not in use but hold ice the longest, while most softside coolers don’t insulate well. Here’s a strong compromise. It holds 26 12-ounce cans and the ice to keep them cool, with thick, closedcell foam walls that keep contents cold all weekend. A redesigned opening is easy to load and snaps shut securely with magnets, not fragile zippers. Handles and a padded shoulder strap make hauling easy. $350; yeti.com

C A M P I N G

SEA TO SUMMIT X-SET 32

This three-piece cookware set stores compactly without sacrificing utility. It includes a 2.8-liter pot, 1.3-liter kettle and 8-inch nonstick fry pan— plenty to whip up captivating campside cuisine. The BPA-free, food-grade silicone pot and kettle walls collapse when not in use to nest inside the pan for a package less than 2 inches tall. The silicone won’t scorch even if exposed to stove flame, and the aluminum base offers even heating and stability. $140; seatosummit.com

JACKERY SOLAR GENERATOR 500 KIT

Car camping can be more fun with the right creature comforts—tunes, lights, maybe e-books—and this kit is an ingenious way to charge them. It includes a battery with enough juice to recharge a laptop 4.5 times—with three USB ports, plus AC and 12V car outlets. The solar panel offers off-grid recharging (9.5-hour charge time). Just 22 pounds total, the kit packs up tight for easy storage. $830; jackery.com

METOLIUS CRASH PAD COUCH

Scrap the cramped, floppy folding chairs with this ingenious camp furniture. Durable, jigsawcut plywood panels assemble tools-free for a sturdy two-person couch. A bouldering Crash Pad (sold separately) provides cushion and can do double duty as a mattress along with its original climbing use. The couch panels weigh just 22 pounds, fold flat for easy, compact storage and are urethane coated to resist rain and mildew. $120; metoliusclimbing.com

GSI OUTDOORS OUTSIDE INSIDE TRAVEL AXE-THROWING SET

OK, you’re at the campsite, what now? Tap into your inner woodsman with this clever (and kidsafe) adaptation of the popular axe-throwing target game. The kit includes a 26-inch diameter target with a strap and suction cup to hang on a post, tree or wall, and four foam axes equipped with a gripper “blade” to stick to the target. The target folds up to fit in a small carry bag with the axes for storage. $37; gsioutdoors.com

It might be time to upgrade your campsite with furniture like the Metolius Crash Pad Couch. 90

THE RED BULLETIN

SUBARU OUTBACK WILDERNESS EDITION

Rooftop tents can exceed a vehicle’s roof-rack load ratings, leading to damage, but this new Outback edition can support 800 pounds when parked and 220 in motion. The 260 hp turbocharged vehicle is off-road worthy, with additional X-Mode traction settings, all-terrain Yokohama Geolandar tires and off-road-tuned suspension that provides as much clearance as many pickup trucks. From $36,995; subaru.com

If you like to camp in a rooftop tent, Subaru’s new Outback Wilderness Edition can handle the weight.

MSR WHISPERLITE UNIVERSAL

Keep your options open with this adaptation of MSR’s best-selling backpacking stove. It has a clever fuel coupler hose that works with almost any fuel source. Use compressed-gas canisters for convenience, or switch to almost any liquid fuel—white gas, kerosene, even conventional gas—for trips where canisters are hard to find. It is compact (4 x 4 inches) and lightweight (11.2 ounces), but the burner boils a liter of water in less than four minutes. $170; msrgear.com

The Whisperlight Universal is a great choice if you want flexibility with your fuel source.

G U I D E

B AC K PAC K I N G

MYSTERY RANCH BRIDGER 55

NEMO DAGGER OSMO

BLACK DIAMOND MOJI LANTERN

AEROPRESS GO

This new pack is perfectly sized for overnight adventures. The main and top compartments hold 3,340 cubic inches of cargo, with external daisy chains and side pockets for tools and light, bulky items. The breathable, padded harness has pockets for maps and snacks. Men’s and women’s versions have gender-specific frames to fit most body types. The top pocket detaches for use as a hip pack, ideal for day hikes once you reach your campsite. $329; mysteryranch.com

THERM-A-REST PARSEC 32

The award-winning Parsec has grown into a full series, including this three-season bag. The light 800-fill Nikwax Hydrophobic down, PFC-free and Responsible Down Standard–certified, absorbs far less water than conventional down. A heatmapped, zoned insulation structure and roomy foot pocket keeps you warm and comfy. Quilt and blanket loops let you add layers, while retention straps keep restless sleepers on the pad. Comes in three lengths. $370-$430; thermarest.com

Sure, your headlamp is useful after dark, but if you’ve got space, this is a more inviting option. The LED frosted globe casts an even, warm glow up to 200 lumens, perfect for reading, cooking or sorting gear. A collapsible double-hook loop makes it easy to hang inside tents. Run times range from 6 to 120 hours depending on which brightness setting you choose, and it’s powered by three replaceable AAA batteries. $20; blackdiamondequipment.com

The Dagger is very light but roomier than most ultraspartan setups. Available in two- and threeperson versions, it’s made with recycled ripstop nylon that’s free of PFAS “forever chemicals” and treated with a PFC-free water-repellent finish that’s more durable than conventional DWRs. The color-coded, hubbed pole structure sets up fast and is stable in wind. It has a vestibule with protected storage and an overhead pocket for lighting. From $480; nemoequipment.com

Seasoned travelers know the AeroPress is a consensus pick to make great coffee anywhere. The compact Go adds an integrated mug and silicon lid that doubles as a travel case, perfect to stuff in a pack. The press-style coffee maker uses compostable paper microfilters to strain the gritty sludge most others let through. You can brew up to three shots of espresso or 8 ounces of coffee per cycle and it works with hot- or coldbrew techniques. $40; aeropress.com

The Black Diamond Moji Lantern can light up your campsite or tent more invitingly than a headlamp. THE RED BULLETIN

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

oofnest’s original Falcon set a standard for versatility in rooftop tents. This new update raises that bar with a host of refinements.

P O P - U P PA R T Y

The clamshell construction pops up in a few minutes, which you’ll appreciate if you’re racing darkness at a campsite or weather is rolling in.

C A R G O C A PA B L E

Most roof tents monopolize precious cargo space. Optional crossbars for the hardshell tent add 75 pounds of carrying capacity for bikes, kayaks, whatever.

LOW PROFILE

Only 6.5 inches tall when closed, the Falcon 2 has a streamlined silhouette that’s far easier on your gas mileage than most rooftop tents.

ROOFNEST FA LC O N 2 $3,595; roofnest.com

A L L - W E AT H E R WA R R I O R

The insulated aluminum top and bottom panels, waterproof poly-cotton canvas body and removable awning provide protection from cold and rain.

REST EASY

The 2.5-inch-thick memory-foam mattress and “blackout” coating on the inside tent walls create a cozy nest for quality sleeping.

G U I D E

ORU INLET

ait, a kayak that’s . . . foldable? Yep. Ever since the original Oru folding kayak launched in 2014, the company has been reimagining the limits of lightweight, portable watercraft.

ROOM FOR TWO

Most kayak openings are just big enough to fit your lower body, but the Inlet’s spacious design allows a small child or pet to accompany you.

S TA B L E A N D SECURE

The 9’8” Inlet has a wide, flat bottom—ideal for calmwater excursions on lakes, providing added stability for beginner paddlers.

$899; orukayak.com

C O M PA C T CARRY

Only 20 pounds, the Inlet folds up to just 42 x 10 x 18 inches, so it’s a manageable take-along companion for lakeside adventures.

W AT E R W O R T H Y

The double-walled hull is built from tough, tearand puncture-resistant polypropylene. Clever bulkhead buttresses add stiffness and secure storage.

F A S T A S S E M B LY It only takes a few easy steps to unfold the Inlet’s three main sections, pop out the bowheads, strap it all together and go.

A D J U S TA B L E

The Inlet can easily be set up for paddlers of all sizes, with a roomy padded seat, height-adjustable backrest and a foot brace.

GLOBAL TEAM

THE RED BULLETIN WORLDWIDE

The Red Bulletin is published in six countries. The cover of this month’s U.K. edition features ninetime cliff diving world champion Gary Hunt, who has his eyes on the Paris Olympics in 2024. 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, Julian Vater Head of Audio Florian Obkircher Managing Editors Ulrich Corazza, Marion Lukas-Wildmann Publishing Management Ivona Glibusic, Bernhard Schmied, Melissa Stutz 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, Elisabeth Maier 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 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 10, 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 Chief 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 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

Give wings to your career

Jason Paul, Professional Freerunner

“My greatest strength is my drive.” Explore what you're naturally good at and get the tools and coaching to be even better.

redbull.com/wingfinder

Action highlight

The next issue of THE RED BULLETIN is out on June 21.

THE RED BULLETIN

MATT POWER/RED BULL ILLUME

You won’t find it in their gear bag, but patience is a vital tool for a photographer. Without it, this shot by Philippines-based lensman Matt Power wouldn’t exist. “I was waiting for all the elements to align: sunset, clean swell, clear water and a talented surfer,” he says of the image, which won a place in the Red Bull Illume final. “The spot was busy that evening, so the surfer is unknown to me, which I feel adds to the mystical nature of the shot. It’s a dramatic, ethereal image I’ll cherish forever.” mattpowerphoto.com

DAVYDD CHONG

Clear shot

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

Rugged strength. Relentless endurance.