Sharing stories and adventures about all things coffee, stories, and stoke
What a summer.
Between the dust, the caffeine, and the thousands of miles in Nacho the Van, I spent the past few months chasing bikes either with a camera in hand, a coffee kettle on the boil, or sometimes both. From the high desert of Bend to the red dirt of Arizona to the breezy Oregon Coast, I served up pourovers and snapped photos at more than 20 cycling events across the West.
There’s a certain rhythm to exploring by road. Long stretches of pavement cut across wide-open spaces, pulling you deeper into places where the map feels more suggestion than prescription. In southeastern Arizona, the road itself becomes part of the story ... passing through dusty towns, slipping between mountain ranges, then disappearing into dirt tracks that beg for exploration.
That was my recent experience exploring that part of Arizona.
Event coffee catering wasn’t something I set out to do. But somewhere between roasting my own beans and chasing the rhythm of gravel and mountain bike races and trail work days, it all came together.
Loam Coffee became something more than a roaster. It became a mobile coffee experience, grounded in the outdoors and fueled by people who show up for the hard and beautiful things.
By the time most riders stirred from their tents each morning, the coffee was already flowing.
Each day of the Oregon Trail Gravel Grinder began in the dark. I’d crawl out of bed at 4:30am, fire up the coffee brewers, and start brewing coffee before the birds even knew it was morning. By 5:00am, that familiar smell ... Loam Coffee in full bloom .... began to drift across camp.
And like clockwork, the line would form.
I’m not a surfer. Never tried and don’t plan on it. It’s not the sharks (cough); it’s that I already have enough hobbies to keep me happily broke and perpetually busy. But dirt surfing? On a 170 mm enduro bike? Now that I can get behind.
This past weekend marked the kickoff of Ride the Dirt Wave, an enduro series along the Oregon Coast.
I have a road trip ritual I rarely stray from: Diet Mountain Dew, crunchy peanut butter Clif Bars, sunflower seeds, and classic country music. How that combo came to be, I couldn’t tell you. But it works.
I just rolled back home after a weekend of serving coffee at Cascade Gravel in Sisters, Oregon. These events always feel like something special. The energy. The people. That final pre-race sip of coffee before riders clip in and chase 40, 60, or 80 miles through the shadow of the Cascades.
