We'll Take You There

WE'LL TAKE YOU THERE ALL THat WE KNOW THE VANISHING OF MIKE RUST number 35 $8.95 US $9.95 CAN SUrvIVOR OF SUrvIVORS www.mountainflyer.com LINDSEY VOREIS DamN THE MOMOS UNDERFUELED IN NEPAL THERe’s NO BS BUILT INTO A SOULCRAFT Display until April 30, 2014 Mike Rust, in his prime, is hard at work inside Colorado Cyclery in Salida. Rust and Don McClung put Salida on America’s mountain biking map. Compliments of the family of Mike Rust 26 BY CHRIS KASSAR 27 the mysterious murder of a member of the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame. Nagged by the haunting questions that remained, this duo jumped in the deep end and started digging. At first, their inquiries met with resistance and fear; people warned them to leave the past where it belonged, but with persistence and time, they gained the trust of Mike’s family and friends. “If you’re going to ask people to bare their souls, you have to take time to get to know them,” explains Ward, who believes the extra effort was worth it. “You don’t always find compelling stories in your backyard, but this is a story worth telling, worth spending our life energy on.” Fueled by the desire to make a difference, these intrepid storytellers have dedicated every last spare dollar and moment to crafting “The Rider and The Wolf,” a docu-narrative that celebrates Mike’s life and contribution to Compliments of the family of Mike Rust mountain biking and delves into the effect that his disappearance and five years of fruitless searching for him have had on those who love Moments of impact come in all forms and him. “The first scene we shot for the film was usually hit when we least expect them. a re-enactment of what is known about the Regardless of the shape they take—a phone last hour of Mike’s life,” Ward says. “We shot call in the middle of the night, a sweet it on the exact day he disappeared, the exact glance from a stranger, a collision with a hour and at the exact spot where the searchers semi-truck—these blips in time and how we found Mike’s bloody vest years before.” An respond to them can irrevocably alter our actor played Mike and, oddly enough, Mike’s lives. Mike Rust’s moment came five years ago brothers played the perpetrators. when he jumped on his dirt bike and headed As if recreating the day of his death out into the uncertain twilight seeking justice. with his family’s participation wasn’t eerie Half a decade has passed since that enough, a year of filming throughout fateful evening, but the question of who Colorado brimmed with equally unnerving killed “Mike the Bike” still lingers below experiences. They joined a posse armed to the surface in this remote and wild part of the teeth on body hunts, dropped cameras Colorado. So, when Nathan Ward and Sam down mine shafts in search of bones and Bricker—passionate cyclists, natives of the interviewed those who still doggedly wander area and the creative minds behind Grit the hills hoping to find a clue. and Thistle Film Co.—were throwing out “All you have to do is think about what ideas for their next documentary film, it it would be like to lose a brother or sister made sense that Mike Rust came up. “Why and not know … never know perhaps in has no one told the story of Mike Rust’s this case,” Ward says. “His family hasn’t disappearance?” Ward asks. “Mike and Don given up. They are still hurting and looking McClung inspired me to start mountain for resolution because a vital part of their biking back when Salida was a town with life has been ripped out. If not justice, they very few options for kids. We looked up at least want the peace of knowing where to them and realized there was this whole Mike’s body was hidden. It doesn’t matter new sport that we could pursue right in our how it went down or who started the backyard. They made Salida the mountain confrontation, they need to know.” bike town it is today.” The goal of the film, however, is not to There was a little blip of news around solve the crime. “We want to tell the story the time Mike vanished, but then the story as it should have been told in the beginning. disappeared much like he did. It didn’t Mike was a guy who shaped mountain biking, seem right to Bricker and Ward that such and he made Salida the town that it is, but he a tragic story had essentially dried up and chose a different path. Just because you move blown away with barely a whisper—not out to the middle of nowhere and live simply, a single bike magazine had written about your life is not worth any less,” Ward says. 28 KLUNKERING AROUND IN 1980 One cool fall morning, dozens mull around the tiny Colorado mountain town of Crested Butte in various states of readiness and disarray. Some nurse their hangovers, others eat a quick snack or finish last-minute fixes, while a few stow random bike parts and toss sleeping bags into a truck. Someone rolls a joint. The pungent smell of weed fills the air. Eventually, the high-energy crowd made largely of locals and Californians gathers. Folks chat with their neighbors. Irreverent comments fly through the pack. Embarrassing moments from last night are relived. Another joint works its way from rider to rider. Then … “On your mark, get set, go!” With that last word, a motley crew of about 90—many donning white, knee-high, tube socks, thick beards, khaki shorts and sneakers—hops on trusty, two-wheeled Compliments of Kay Caunt of Criterium Bicycles steeds and heads for the hills. Amid hoots, hollers, a cloud of dust and a noticeable lack of spandex, the 1980 Crested Butte to Aspen building better bikes fly across the fire. Once Klunker Classic begins. Though technically the keg is kicked and heads are filled to the this is just a tour (and not a race), a few brim with possibility, folks stumble off and riders grit their teeth and push ahead early; curl up under the starry sky. They dream it’s a matter of pride for the rough and sweetly and rise ready to ride another day. tumble Coloradans to crush—or at least put No one could imagine that almost 30 the hurt on—the “fancy-pants” Californians years down the trail, one of their Mountain and vice versa. Bike Hall of Fame counterparts—the For the next two days, this ragtag bunch humble, free-spirited visionary Mike Rust— partakes in a rowdy and unforgettable high- would disappear, leaving behind nothing altitude party masquerading as a grueling but a shattered gun, blood in the dust and 40-mile mountain bike ride. Leading the way broken hearts. Mountain Bike Hall of Fame over the rugged and breathtaking Pearl Pass are recognizable names: Gary Fisher, Charlie FATEFUL NIGHT IN 2009 Kelly, Charlie Cunningham, Joe Breeze, Wende “I didn’t want to believe it. I just kept Top: Mike Rust pauses during a ride in Crested Cragg, Denise Carmagno and Scot Nicol. thinking this can’t be,” says Mike’s youngest Butte, Colo., in the klunker days before production mountain bikes. The filmmakers found this photo Mike Rust, a lesser-known name but an brother, Marty Rust, about the call he hanging on the wall of Criterium Bicycles in Colorado equally dazzling rider and innovator, keeps received from his brother, Paul, on the chilly Springs, where Mike used to wrench. pace with these future superstars. Mike’s eyes evening of April 1, 2009. Above: A group of riders enjoys a photo opp on Pearl twinkle with a brilliance that matches the Earlier that day, Mike’s longtime friend Pass in the late ’70s/early ’80s. Included are many Colorado sky as he charges up the muddy Mary Ann Bavaria called Paul in a flurry of of the future stars (and rebels) of mountain biking, path ahead. Most carry nothing because the concern. The day before, March 31, 2009, along with two fugitives living under assumed names in Crested Butte. ride is supported, but Mike prides himself Mike drove the 45 minutes to Salida. He ran Left: How many men could two wheel drift a high on self-sufficiency. Giant navy blue panniers errands, went food shopping and took Mary wheeler on dirt? hang off the front and back of the light Ann out to lunch. He returned home—a green frame he built himself; a bedroll lies unique homestead on 80 acres of untamed behind his seat and assorted sacks rest in land outside the sleepy town of Saguache— front of his handlebars. Mike pedals with the near 6 p.m. and noticed tire tracks heading grace and ease of a true cyclist and doesn’t around the west side of his house; you would hesitate to offer help in the form of riding only park there if you intended to remain tips, a mechanical hand or moral support to hidden from view. Mike entered his house struggling riders. on high alert. He noticed his binoculars At camp, this handsome young man were slightly out of place and a revolver kicks back, enjoys a few cold ones and revels was missing. These clues confirmed Mike’s in the company of old and new friends alike.

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