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I first met Rick with an old cycling friend of mine, and he was introduced to me as the future mayor of Portland. I was quick to realize that the nickname, while a joke, made a lot of sense - Rick knew everyone in town, was the king of cyclocross and always knew the right person to call to get a job done. With a ridiculously awesome laugh, Rick knows how to have fun, make everything he is involved with better, and he is not afraid, as you will see in his story below, to do things differently. 

When I think of Rick, I see his big smile and excitement to jump in - no matter what the task is. I had the pleasure of seeing Rick this past August in Portland, and my memory of him is no different than how he still is today; fun, full of life, ready for an adventure and always with the best story around. Thanks Rick, for joining us today on Quench’d, your story admittedly had me laughing out loud multiple times. - Carina

Standing at the top of the iconic Stairway to Heaven before the first race of the 2023 Cyclocross World Championships in Hoogerheide, I was as nervous as any staging racer. With the photographers setting up around me, I found my view angles diminish and my footing more precarious.  I had on a UCI vest and press credentials hanging from a lanyard, but I was obviously lacking a camera. A photographer asked in French, “where was my gear?"… I shrugged and pulled out a sketch pad. “What the heck?" is a reasonable translation for his reaction….

Here they come! We could see the racers descend the hill, round the bend and hit the first steps! Cameras rapidly clicking to capture the action, I steadied my sketchpad and drew furiously with a sharpie as the racers charged past! In a matter of seconds, the racers were over the stairs and onto the next section— The photographers relaxed and let their cameras down as I grabbed my brush and paints and went to work washing colors onto the line art. And then they raised their cameras again. This time I was their subject.

So began a weekend of recording the races by pen and watercolor. As I worked, I earned the respect and friendship of my fellow reporters, whose cameras caught the action in seconds whereas I needed the full lap to get my images set. 

Suffice to say my path to painting cyclocross races was not remotely predictable or planned. I started racing cyclocross 34 years ago on a dare, and later was (unknowingly) signed up to promote the race series when the former promoter moved away. 

I took over his “First Mud” 3-race series; changed the name to the Cross Crusade; added a dash of Oktoberfest to the proceedings and well, it took off so to speak. Always looking for ways to engage the racing community in more than just the competition on the course, my fellow promoters and I conceived of team competitions, and the ’19 season was themed “The Art of Cyclocross”. Each week teams were assigned to produce a ‘cross related artwork in disciplines such as sculpture, poetry, performance, and painting……to encourage participation, I decided I would comically don a beret and a black T and “paint” the race scene as if some latter-day Monet.

My first attempts were rough to say the least,  but as this was a stunt, it mattered not.  Reflecting on the day, and realizing my racing career was waning, I thought this new gig might be a way to get back in the mix…making lines on a page turned out to be as much if not more of a challenge than finding the right line through a turn.

Since that first season, I have found sketching and painting to be a very intense way to watch the racing…instead of following the placings of the leaders or my favorite riders, I was now hyper focused on the positions of their bodies as they moved through the course, over barriers, around corners. I also stepped back to see the venue in the landscape and looked closer to frame the racing in the context of the spectators. 

On a typical day, I find a particular vantage point and attempt to capture the movement and mood of the race….hence a figure in a painting may be a composite of many who picked that same line…but all that was to change when I stepped onto the World’s course.

In 2023 at Hoogerheide, I was reporting for PezCycling News. I was to paint the greatest competitors in the sport, on their ultimate race day.  As a reporter, I knew that I would need to accurately represent each racer and race as it unfolded.  I would have to establish a new approach to how I recorded the action.

Figuring the video photographers had scoped out the best locations and viewpoints, I decided to set up next to one of the scaffold towers.  But as I was later to realize, this enabled me to mark my position on the course-- a significant benefit to my eventual report.  

I would have only seconds to capture the action, so I drew the context in preparation for the arrival of the racers: the course fencing, the crowds pressed up against it, the flags, and banners and if possible, a landmark in the background--which in Hoogerheide was the church steeple. 

From my vantage point, at first sight of the racers, I would take a few phone shots. Then dropping the phone I quickly grabbed a pad and pen as they approached. I drew from a mental snapshot that I tried to hold onto as they flew past. Once lines had been established, I dropped the pen and took parting shots of the racers—hoping to get their numbers so I could verify whom I was documenting. I started to loosely lay watercolor in a gestural manner that supported the briskly made linework. I referenced my photos to ensure the blur that was their passing could be rendered with an accurate representation of kit color and design. 

I was just able to complete a painting by the time they were back at my position. And so it went for every race. I moved around to capture different angles of the course and aspects of the action, but always within close proximity to a camera installation. 

Between the races I typically would be found sloshed in a beer tent belting out “Sweet Caroline” with my fellow fanatics. But on this weekend, I hung out with the photographers, and we critiqued our work, talked about the races, about our art, and bonded over the fun of being a part of the event. The experience was intense. No longer a carefree spectator, I was now a welcomed member of the press corps! 

Once home, I set about posting the event on my newly minted Instagram site, @cyclosketch,  and writing my report for PezCycling News.  A sketch is just that- a quick impression of a fleeting moment. But to put names to the figures, I had to be sure I had my racers correct and knew exactly the relative position of each. It was easy to differentiate Wout Van Aert from Mathieu van der Poel, but other racers were a challenge. 

To accurately caption each image, I needed to watch the race videos frame by frame. I had to zoom in to read the bib numbers and refer back to the start list for names (and spelling!) I was able to locate my position on the course by establishing which video cameras I had set up by or between. Therefore, I was able to figure out the moment when the racers passed me. The position of racers often switched between cameras, so it was critical that I had their relationships correctly identified in my image and caption. This process took the better part of a weekend to accomplish and taught me new respect for the work of those reporting and recording the races. 

We have just concluded our 2024 Cyclocross Crusade Series, and I have a trove of sketches to post. As I look over the season’s work, I find I am getting better able to express the fluid motion of bodies in action. I am trying to find the right balance of detail and gesture, so that the work conveys the energy and beauty of the sport. I love the way in which the lines of tape and blocks of signage provide impetus to throw bold strokes of color across the page. I am enamored flooding the page with colors reflecting the change of season, from late summer’s dusky greens to the brilliant golds and reds of fall. Jerseys, hoodies and tents provide blocks of shape and color. 

I’ve been at Paris-Roubaix, seen stages of the Giro and TDF, and watched the 6 Day track racing in Ghent. Of course, I have seen many a local road race or crit. But nothing compares to a cyclocross race. The courses are characters unto themselves- each known by name for its unique challenges. Be they the famous venues of Europe or the classic venues of Oregon and Washington, each course sets the terms for training and strategy and often dictates the outcome of the race. Spectators are rewarded with lap after lap in which the battles are fought. Leads changing through exertion or by circumstance-- where one racer finds solid grounding  in the mud, another’s tires spin out of control. The sport offers incredible beauty- a  competitor’s dis-mount, run and re-mount through the barriers, or drama, as another’s attempt to bunny hop the barrier results in a contorted crash. 

In the ‘cross crazy Pacific Northwest, the spirit and energy of the events is incredible. The competition is intense in all categories. Many local racers have realized great success at the national and international levels.  Hundreds of racers become cheering sections for teammates and spend the day “tailgating” in their respective team tents. Music blasts, smoke rises from BBQ’s, cowbells ring out, hecklers compete for laughs. Conveniently, most teams have a beer sponsor-- kegs are often tapped before the tents are fully erected. 

At age 68, I’m at the upper limits of what constitutes a legitimate race category-- however my series does have Cat. 70+! Watching my would-be competition, I wonder if these guys will ever retire! Or if I should come out of retirement to challenge them for a step on the podium. When I’m tempted to grab my cross bike and do hill intervals, I come to my senses and grab my painting backpack instead. After years of racing and promoting ‘cross I feel I’ve found my placing.