The Speed Project
WITH AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED

Words by Milo Baker

Sweet Spot. It's all a great balancing act. A feat of mental athleticism. To achieve sweet spot is to walk the edge of personal power itself without exceeding your threshold or falling below your true potential. We take different paths to achieve such a state, but once one reaches the sweet spot the sequence of steps is forever encoded.

At the inaugural cycling relay event held by The Speed Project, code named TSP-CYC, the concept sweet spot would be a reoccurring theme and the name for our project. Racing over 650 miles between the cities of Los Angeles and Las Vegas, AFAIC team members James Kinney, Rachel Carbary, and Devin Armstrong would pass through the six unique chapters that made up the TSP-CYC experience. In true TSP style, the race is an unsanctioned team relay, following no set route besides six required checkpoints. Team support would come from the faithful rental RV we used to follow each rider.

Besides being an incredibly difficult test of endurance and strategy, the true experience of TSP came from finding the balance between the extreme highs and lows.

 

The Speed Project
WITH AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED

Words by Milo Baker

Sweet Spot. It's all a great balancing act. A feat of mental athleticism. To achieve sweet spot is to walk the edge of personal power itself without exceeding your threshold or falling below your true potential. We take different paths to achieve such a state, but once one reaches the sweet spot the sequence of steps is forever encoded.

At the inaugural cycling relay event held by The Speed Project, code named TSP-CYC, the concept sweet spot would be a reoccurring theme and the name for our project. Racing over 650 miles between the cities of Los Angeles and Las Vegas, AFAIC team members James Kinney, Rachel Carbary, and Devin Armstrong would pass through the six unique chapters that made up the TSP-CYC experience. In true TSP style, the race is an unsanctioned team relay, following no set route besides six required checkpoints. Team support would come from the faithful rental RV we used to follow each rider.

Besides being an incredibly difficult test of endurance and strategy, the true experience of TSP came from finding the balance between the extreme highs and lows.

 



Chapter I – Escape

We’re lost in the marine layer and it's almost 4am. Starting from the most western tip in LA, the Santa Monica pier, collections of blinking lights and lycra encased bodies pooled together to form a makeshift start line. Devin would be the first rider taking on the 50 odd miles of urban boulevards and concrete canyons. As the race started the riders darted off into the seemingly endless grid.

Chapter I – Escape

We’re lost in the marine layer and it's almost 4am. Starting from the most western tip in LA, the Santa Monica pier, collections of blinking lights and lycra encased bodies pooled together to form a makeshift start line. Devin would be the first rider taking on the 50 odd miles of urban boulevards and concrete canyons. As the race started the riders darted off into the seemingly endless grid.

 



Chapter II – Convention

Six riders emerged on the other side of the urban labyrinth just as the sun began to rise. Devin was among the selection of riders. James awaited him with the support crew on the borderlands of LA county, eager to see how things had changed at the front of the race. Soon it would only be James and one other rider alone at the front of the race, watching suburbia fade into desert as the miles ticked by. The early morning would reveal the San Jacinto mountains that would transition riders into their next chapter.

 



Chapter III – Evaporate

Rachel would shepard the team baton across the San Jacinto mountains, riding until the pavement faded away to crest the mountains at its lowest point. At the summit of the road lay the first checkpoint. The road had lost its comfort as it climbed through the mountains, becoming riddled with washboard and sand. Choosing big tires over small, Rachel had been caught by riders behind her who opted to stay on their road bikes through the dirt. She exited the dirt section on the other side of mountains in Anza with only a small gap as things turned sandy, quickly swapping back to skinny tires back on the pavement. James would be prepped with his mountain bike as we awaited the arrival of Rachel at the section known as “The Willows”. With small gaps between them, three teams would enter the unknown together as the desert began to open up.

 

Chapter II – Convention

Six riders emerged on the other side of the urban labyrinth just as the sun began to rise. Devin was among the selection of riders. James awaited him with the support crew on the borderlands of LA county, eager to see how things had changed at the front of the race. Soon it would only be James and one other rider alone at the front of the race, watching suburbia fade into desert as the miles ticked by. The early morning would reveal the San Jacinto mountains that would transition riders into their next chapter.

Chapter III – Evaporate

Rachel would shepard the team baton across the San Jacinto mountains, riding until the pavement faded away to crest the mountains at its lowest point. At the summit of the road lay the first checkpoint. The road had lost its comfort as it climbed through the mountains, becoming riddled with washboard and sand. Choosing big tires over small, Rachel had been caught by riders behind her who opted to stay on their road bikes through the dirt. She exited the dirt section on the other side of mountains in Anza with only a small gap as things turned sandy, quickly swapping back to skinny tires back on the pavement. James would be prepped with his mountain bike as we awaited the arrival of Rachel at the section known as “The Willows”. With small gaps between them, three teams would enter the unknown together as the desert began to open up.



...The road had lost its comfort as it climbed through the mountains, becoming riddled with washboard and sand...

...The road had lost its comfort as it climbed through the mountains, becoming riddled with washboard and sand...



Chapter IV – Salvation and Enlightenment.

Three missed calls, an hour detour, no sign of James, zero cell service. Our RV swung down mountain roads, with the vast openness of the Anza Borrego desert exploding around us. Finally, some dot movement, James was alive. The team caught him just as the second-place rider had caught and passed him. The baton would go to Devin, who would press on deeper into the desert towards the TSP famed “Adelanto Beach Club”, our second checkpoint. James meanwhile would be saved by a stranger’s hose, washing away the cactus spines and willow muck that covered him in the previous section of trail. The Adelanto beach club lay before us. A loose sandy road served as the bouncer, and the bartender only served burgers, but our experience was fulfilling.

The race continued; we were second on the road as Rachel powered through the heat of the day. With first place (PAS Racing) and third place (Canyon Radpack) in sight, Devin and Rachel took short pulls in the heat while James recovered. The RV continued behind the riders, our laundry flapping from the windowsills as we dried fresh bibs and jerseys. In the heat we got passed by a rider from Canyon Radpack and become third on the road but as we neared the third checkpoint at Salvation Mountain, an art installation by the Salton Sea, things began to come together.

 

Chapter IV – Salvation and Enlightenment.

Three missed calls, an hour detour, no sign of James, zero cell service. Our RV swung down mountain roads, with the vast openness of the Anza Borrego desert exploding around us. Finally, some dot movement, James was alive. The team caught him just as the second-place rider had caught and passed him. The baton would go to Devin, who would press on deeper into the desert towards the TSP famed “Adelanto Beach Club”, our second checkpoint. James meanwhile would be saved by a stranger’s hose, washing away the cactus spines and willow muck that covered him in the previous section of trail. The Adelanto beach club lay before us. A loose sandy road served as the bouncer, and the bartender only served burgers, but our experience was fulfilling.

The race continued; we were second on the road as Rachel powered through the heat of the day. With first place (PAS Racing) and third place (Canyon Radpack) in sight, Devin and Rachel took short pulls in the heat while James recovered. The RV continued behind the riders, our laundry flapping from the windowsills as we dried fresh bibs and jerseys. In the heat we got passed by a rider from Canyon Radpack and become third on the road but as we neared the third checkpoint at Salvation Mountain, an art installation by the Salton Sea, things began to come together.



Chapter V – The Choice

Day fell away to night. We had made the catch to second, pacing with Canyon Radpack as we closed in on the front of the race once more. Another light appeared on the road ahead of us, the front of the race was back in sight. Three riders would enter Joshua Tree together as the night drew on. The climbing began, and the teams grimaced as they climbed the staircase to Twentynine Palms. The climbs grew harder, with more to come our crew needed calories and the RV needed gas to survive the next 12 hours. James would be swapped in for the next leg as the team sped forward to refuel.

As the RV lights disappeared down the road for James, his own shining light would fade. Disaster. With nothing to guide his descent into Twentynine Palms, the front of the race crept away. The RV would be out of reach as James rolled slowly down the descent, the gap to the front going out even further. Devin would swap in at the bottom, with pizza rolls and hot pockets awaiting James inside. We would be caught in no-man’s land for the rest of the night.

 

Chapter V – The Choice

Day fell away to night. We had made the catch to second, pacing with Canyon Radpack as we closed in on the front of the race once more. Another light appeared on the road ahead of us, the front of the race was back in sight. Three riders would enter Joshua Tree together as the night drew on. The climbing began, and the teams grimaced as they climbed the staircase to Twentynine Palms. The climbs grew harder, with more to come our crew needed calories and the RV needed gas to survive the next 12 hours. James would be swapped in for the next leg as the team sped forward to refuel.

As the RV lights disappeared down the road for James, his own shining light would fade. Disaster. With nothing to guide his descent into Twentynine Palms, the front of the race crept away. The RV would be out of reach as James rolled slowly down the descent, the gap to the front going out even further. Devin would swap in at the bottom, with pizza rolls and hot pockets awaiting James inside. We would be caught in no-man’s land for the rest of the night.

 

 

Chapter IV – A Sign

Day would reveal itself right as the second to last checkpoint came into view, at the mouth of the notorious Powerline Road. The road is a famed sector from the TSP foot races, though none of the TSP-CYC racers would choose to take on its the brutally exposed sandy slopes. Our route would lead us through the desert false flats before tackling one final climb up and over the mountains into Las Vegas. Fatigue had set into everyone, and earlier concepts of Sweet Spot were starting to fade. Devin would put in several long pulls to allow James to rest
before the final climb, where he would enter his element.

It would be on this final climb where James would ascend to sweet spot, putting in a godly performance as he smashed his way up its slopes. After descending into the outskirts of Las Vegas, the entire team would all pace the rest of the way together until the final checkpoint appeared on the horizon. After just a hair over 32 hours, all three riders reached the Las Vegas welcome sign.

We left the race knowing we had hung with the best of them.


Chapter IV – A Sign

Day would reveal itself right as the second to last checkpoint came into view, at the mouth of the notorious Powerline Road. The road is a famed sector from the TSP foot races, though none of the TSP-CYC racers would choose to take on its the brutally exposed sandy slopes. Our route would lead us through the desert false flats before tackling one final climb up and over the mountains into Las Vegas. Fatigue had set into everyone, and earlier concepts of Sweet Spot were starting to fade. Devin would put in several long pulls to allow James to rest before the final climb, where he would enter his element.

It would be on this final climb where James would ascend to sweet spot, putting in a godly performance as he smashed his way up its slopes. After descending into the outskirts of Las Vegas, the entire team would all pace the rest of the way together until the final checkpoint appeared on the horizon. After just a hair over 32 hours, all three riders reached the Las Vegas welcome sign.

We left the race knowing we had hung with the best of them.

 

 

For a team of individuals who don’t hold pro racing licenses and have never competed in an ultra-distance racing event, we have something to be deeply proud of.

Thank you, TSP, Attaquer, and the entire community we met along the way. We’ll be back next year ;)


For a team of individuals who don’t hold pro racing licenses and have never competed in an ultra-distance racing event, we have something to be deeply proud of.

Thank you, TSP, Attaquer, and the entire community we met along the way. We’ll be back next year ;)

SHOP THE KIT

SHOP THE KIT

RACE BIBS SOLAR ORANGE
$350.00 AUD

RACE JERSEY WHITE
$220.00 AUD

RACE BIB EMERALD
$350.00 AUD

RACE JERSEY SOLAR ORANGE
$220.00 AUD