The Red Bulletin August 2020 (US)

BEYOND THE ORDINARY THE RED BULLETIN 08-09/2020
BEYOND THE ORDINARY
AMERICAN MUSCLE
SUBSCRIBE
NOW
DETAILS
INSIDE
POWER BROKERS KATE COURTNEY AND CHLOÉ DYGERT
U.S. EDITION
AUG./SEPT. 2020, $5.99

THEY REPRESENT AMERICAN CYCLING’S
BEST CHANCE FOR GOLD IN TOKYO
02

JOE PUGLIESE
As part of a January
training camp, Kate
Courtney (left) and
Chloé Dygert climb
the lower slopes of
Mount Tamalpais in
Marin County,
California. To read
their story, flip to
page 22.

EDITOR’S NOTE
MORE THAN
FUN AND GAMES
In the world we inhabited four months ago, our attention
right now was supposed to be directed at the Summer
Olympics in Tokyo. But even though the Games are
delayed—till next year or beyond—life for the athletes
pursuing glory marches on. Our cover story, “American
Muscle” (page 22), digs deep into two female cyclists, Kate
Courtney and Chloé Dygert, who are fundamentally
different characters in different disciplines united in this
unprecedented moment by one goal: Being the very best.
CONTRIBUTORS
THIS ISSUE
PETRA
ERIKSSON
“I always enjoy getting the chance
to portray people who haven’t
been made visible enough,
whether that has to do with their
gender, sexual orientation or skin
color,” says the Barcelona-based
illustrator, who contributed
portraits of four such individuals
in “Gamers Like Us,” which
profiles people who are making
that industry more inclusive.
Eriksson’s work often appears in
The New Yorker. Page 56
Photographer (and cycling fanatic) Joe Pugliese poses with an elite crew (left to
right): Tim Johnson, Colin Strickland, Courtney, Kristin Armstrong and Dygert.
This issue also explores other ways games are being
transformed. In “Bulletproof” (page 48) we visit with Twitch
streamer Anne Munition, who is at once entertaining fans
and fighting online bullies. And “Gamers Like Us” (page 56)
profiles four gamers who literally reflect the changing
face of that community. Together these stories show how
the nature of the long game in sport is being redefined.
CHRISTINE
FENNESSY
The Pennsylvania-based writer
contributed two stories in this
issue, both featuring people who
are making gaming more inclusive.
“As our social lives splintered
during the pandemic, I thought a
lot about how comforting it would
be for gamers to connect in their
community,” says Fennessy, whose
work has appeared in Bicycling
and Outside. “It was nice to think
about places that COVID-19
couldn’t reach.” Pages 48 and 56
JOE PUGLIESE (COVER)
04 THE RED BULLETIN

Get a GEICO quote for your bike and, in just 15 minutes,
you’ll know how much you could be saving. If you like
what you hear, you can buy your policy right on the
spot. Then let us do the rest while you enjoy your free
time with peace of mind.
geico.com/cycle | 1-800-442-9253
Some discounts, coverages, payment plans, and features are not available in all states, in all GEICO companies, or in all situations. Motorcycle and ATV coverages are underwritten by GEICO Indemnity Company. GEICO is a registered
service mark of Government Employees Insurance Company, Washington, DC 20076; a Berkshire Hathaway Inc. subsidiary. © 2020 GEICO

CONTENTS
August/September
FEATURES
22 American Muscle
Bike racers Chloé Dygert and Kate Courtney compete in
different disciplines, but they share one goal: to win gold.
36 Show of Force
The original gonzo reality show, Eco-Challenge, is back—and
bigger than ever. This is the story of how it all came together.
48 Bulletproof
The popular Twitch streamer Anne Munition is speaking out
against online bullies and killing them with kindness.
56 Gamers Like Us
To true fans, video games are about connecting people despite
barriers like language or distance. Here are four gamers who
are using their talents to create a more inclusive community.
66 Lava and Ice
On the glacial slopes of Iceland’s volcanoes, life doesn’t always
transpire on solid ground—but at least it’s never boring.
48
POWER UP
Pro gamer Anne
Munition takes pride
in having one of the
nicest communities
on Twitch.
06 THE RED BULLETIN

22
TOP GUNS
World champions
Chloé Dygert (left) and
Kate Courtney are both
favored to win medals
in Tokyo.
THE
DEPARTURE
Taking You to New Heights
9 Lacrosse legend Paul Rabil
organizes play, post-COVID
12 An NPO gives the gift of
games to children’s hospitals
14 Lucky break: Serendipitous
surfing in Tasmania
16 Skating adventures in an
abandoned aquapark
18 Musician Sandra Velasquez
fights for social justice
20 Black Pumas share the
songs that inspired them
GUIDE
Get it. Do it. See it.
79 Travel: Four future-looking
picks for your bucket list
84 Fitness tips from retired
pro gamer Flamesword
86 Dates for your calendar
88 The best new outdoor
gear for simple summer
adventures
96 The Red Bulletin worldwide
98 Slacklining in Estonia
JOE PUGLIESE, CARSTEN PETER, JOSH CAMPBELL
66
FEEL THE BURN
Adventure writer
Mark Jenkins
headed to Iceland
looking for answers
about the island’s
active volcanoes.
THE RED BULLETIN 07

On all Red Bull 8.4oz Variants

LIFE & STYLE BEYOND THE ORDINARY
THE
SHAWN HUBBARD/RED BULL CONTENT POOL
AHEAD
OF THE
GAME
How lacrosse
legend Paul Rabil
is organizing a
groundbreaking
post-COVID
tournament.
The Professional
Lacrosse League,
co-founded
by Paul Rabil,
will begin
quarantined play
on July 25.
THE RED BULLETIN 09

When the
World Health
Organization
declared the coronavirus
outbreak a global pandemic
on March 11, professional
lacrosse player Paul Rabil had
the same bewildered “Oh,
shit” reaction as everyone
else. He’d just boarded a
plane from New York to Los
Angeles with his brother,
Mike. The two had worked
tirelessly to build a new pro
lacrosse model. Last summer,
their Premier Lacrosse
League had launched
without a hitch and topped
expectations, with thousands
of fans, team betting and a
culture of equity for players.
And now a virus threatened
to kill what they’d created, as
sports leagues like the NBA
began to announce indefinite
cancellations of play.
Instead of going to that
extreme, the Rabils put out
a press release saying they’d
monitor the situation. Then
they conceded that they’d
have to push back the start of
their season. Both were used
to envisioning worst-case
scenarios, because “as the
leader and co-founder of an
organization that a lot of
people are dependent on, you
have to create solutions based
on a potential worst-case
outcome,” says Paul. The
Rabils opened their laptops
and began assembling a
12-scenario plan.
The big question they
asked themselves was this:
“What if this shit ends up
going to a place we didn’t
expect and we have to cancel
the 2020 season—what would
our last measure be before
that?” Paul says. Before their
flight had landed, they had
10 THE RED BULLETIN

T H E D E P A R T U R E
RABIL HAS BEEN DESCRIBED AS
“THE LEBRON OF LAX,” THE BEST
PLAYER IN LACROSSE HISTORY.
“Our goal is to
showcase our
sport to as
many people
as possible,”
says Rabil.
SHAWN HUBBARD/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, GETTY IMAGES
a solution—one that may put
lacrosse in the public eye in a
way it never has been before.
It’ll begin on July 25, when
the PLL’s seven teams will
gather near Salt Lake City to
contest a fully quarantined,
fanless tournament that’ll
air on NBC in time slots
originally planned for the
Tokyo Olympics.
You could call it an
altruistic coup for Rabil, 34,
who’s been described as the
best player in lacrosse history
(for doing things like taking
a 111-mph shot) and the
“LeBron of lax” for his bigsponsor
appeal and how he
outearns most pro lacrosse
players by hundreds of
thousands of dollars. He also
should be called a visionary
for creating the PLL, which
differs from the longestablished
Major League
Lacrosse in important ways.
The MLL has teams in
different cities that meet
for head-to-head games
in stadiums of disparate
capacities and quality
throughout the season.
Meanwhile, last year, all
PLL teams traveled together
as a league during the
regular season and playoff,
allowing fans to support
different teams, “either
by their favorite player, by
the coach or by the branding
we create,” Rabil says.
While the MLL pays players
between $10,000 and
$25,000 per year (according
Lax Weekly), offers no
benefits and has little social
media presence, the PLL
offers them elevated pay,
healthcare, stock options
and, according to Rabil, far
more fan engagement on its
social media platforms.
Rabil knows from personal
experience how fans value
direct access to individual
athletes, and that by giving it
to them, the PLL “has enabled
a sport like lacrosse, which is
lesser known from a team
standpoint, to accelerate very
quickly,” he says.
PLL players agree.
“Paul has created a better
opportunity for players who
come after him, and he is
starting to change perceptions
of how this sport is viewed,”
says Kyle Harrison, a player on
Redwoods LC. “Paul was one
of the few guys who, between
partnerships, sponsors, events
and the brand he’s built, also
succeeded as a full-time
pro. Now he and Mike are
unlocking the potential of
this sport to take it to the
next level.”
Fans can watch during the
PLL Championship Series
from July 25 through August
9. With health and safety a top
concern, all 200 players (plus
another 100 team personnel,
NBC staff and other support)
will have to self-quarantine at
their respective homes across
PLL player Kyle Harrison says Rabil
is taking the sport to the next level.
the country before gathering
at the Zions Bank Stadium in
Herriman, Utah, on July 19.
They’ll all have been tested for
COVID-19 before travel and
will have to quarantine again
for 48 hours with their
respective teams upon arrival.
If they test negative, players
will transition to training
camp, where they will only
have contact with their
designated “social group”
(team, coach and athletic
trainer). Testing will continue
throughout the series.
“At that point, we’ll feel pretty
certain that no one is carrying
the virus,” says head league
physician Catherine Logan.
And then viewers will have
the chance to see the sport
played for centuries by Native
Americans unfold in the same
prime-time TV slots they
might have watched track and
field or women’s gymnastics.
Each PLL team will play four
games in randomly drawn
“group play” match-ups,
followed by an elimination
tournament. (If any player
gets sick, they and their social
group will go through another
quarantine and everyone will
get retested.)
Rabil’s greatest fear, of
course, is that everyone gets
sick and he has to cancel
the tournament. But in lieu
of that unlikely outcome,
he hopes that “due to the
challenges we’ve faced and
the bleak outlook initially,
we’ve crafted an innovative
solution. Sports are in the
business of entertainment,
and our goal is to showcase
our sport to as many people
as possible. This accelerated
viewership could help grow
our sport faster than we
anticipated.” —Tracy Ross
THE RED BULLETIN 11

T H E D E P A R T U R E
Gamers Outreach
PLAYING IT SMART
Across the U.S., a nonprofit is giving video game kiosks
to children’s hospitals—and rebooting the fun.
Giving sick kids in
the hospital access
to video games
may seem like a no-brainer
strategy for introducing a
little fun into an otherwise
difficult experience. But it’s
not as simple as it sounds.
Zach Wigal, the founder
of nonprofit Gamers Outreach,
learned about those exact
challenges when he first met
with C.S. Mott Children’s
Hospital in his native
Michigan in 2009. At the
time, Wigal was a high school
student who was there to
discuss buying games for the
facility using funds that he
had raised during his second
annual Gamers for Giving
charity tournament.
“They were super receptive
but concerned about things
getting lost or stolen,” he says.
“It can be difficult to manage
equipment, which struck me
as a gamer and a donor.
Because if we buy them a
bunch of Game Boys, it seems
like only a matter of time
before we’d have to replace
items that have gone missing.”
While smartphones and
mobile gaming weren’t
omnipresent back then, Wigal
also discovered that many
hospitals only had a basic
networking infrastructure;
cell service could be spotty,
and Wi-Fi in patient rooms
often didn’t exist.
He got to work designing a
gaming kiosk on wheels, which
he named GO Kart. Made with
medical-grade materials, the
GO Kart is equipped with
wired controllers and a heightadjustable
monitor and can
easily be disinfected between
patients. The first prototype
included an Xbox 360 and
several games that could be
played offline. “The staff were
PHOTO PROVIDED BY GAMERS OUTREACH LIZBETH SCORDO
12 THE RED BULLETIN

Made with
medical-grade
materials, GO
Karts come
with 15 to 20
video games.
“PEOPLE ARE PLAYING
GAMES BECAUSE THEY
WANT TO SOCIALIZE.
IT’S JUST A DIFFERENT
WAY TO DO IT.”
amazed by it,” says the 30-yearold.
“They immediately asked
us for another one.”
After Wigal began working
as a consultant for video
game companies, many of his
clients started sponsoring GO
Kart donations for hospitals,
which helped spur both
funding (each kiosk costs
about $3,500 to build and
maintain) and reach. Fastforward
a decade and Wigal’s
organization has grown
from a yearly fundraiser to
a national 501(c)(3). Today,
Gamers Outreach has a
network of 800 volunteers
that has delivered more than
700 GO Karts to 200 hospitals
around the country—from
smaller medical centers to the
world-renowned Children’s
Hospital Los Angeles, which
has 40 GO Karts serving
500,000 patients annually.
Now the organization’s
partners include giants like
Xbox maker Microsoft, Asus—
which provides discounted
monitors—and esports
platforms such as ESL. Gamers
Outreach gets most of its
funding through sponsorships,
esports fundraising efforts
led by gamers and its evergrowing
Gamers for Giving
annual tournament. The
weekend-long event hosts
big-name gamers and raised
$700,000 this year, despite
canceling its LAN party
component and moving the
tournament entirely online
in response to COVID-19.
While the kids take top
priority, GO Karts can become
an important resource for
parents. “For a dad with a
child in the hospital, it doesn’t
matter if they can’t toss a
football around,” Wigal says.
“They can play Ninja Turtles
together. They want that
interaction and they can get
that through these games.”
Another unexpected
benefit: freeing up staff,
something that proved more
meaningful than ever in the
age of coronavirus. When
a child with a severe arm
burn had to get through the
uncomfortable process of
bandage-changing every few
days, it initially required six
nurses. Then they wheeled
in his favorite game, Lego
Batman. One nurse held the
Zach Wigal, 30, the founder of the nonprofit Gamers Outreach, has been helping supply
video game consoles to children’s hospitals since he was a high school student.
controller for him while
the other completed the
procedure. “All of a sudden,
his anxiety is lower, he’s
having a way better
healthcare experience, and
the nurses are having a way
easier time doing their job,”
says Wigal. “So there’s an
economic argument to be
made, because now those
four other nurses can service
other patients.”
GO Karts arrive with
a console like Xbox,
PlayStation or Nintendo
Switch and 15 to 20 familyfriendly
titles that hospitals
can customize depending
on patient age and access to
high-speed internet. Online
multiplayer options can
help alleviate FOMO by
connecting kids with their
friends at home, something
that becomes even more
crucial for children
navigating long stays.
Wigal remembers one
kid who was confined to
his hospital room for an
excruciating nine months
while awaiting a heart
transplant. Though he would
have loved to be outside on
the playground with his
friends, Minecraft became the
next best thing. “His mom was
saying at least he had access
to the digital playground,
where he could play games
with his friends when they
got out of school and he could
have access to these
opportunities to socialize.”
And that’s part of the
point. Gamers Outreach
actually disproves those antisocial,
basement-dweller
stereotypes about gamers,
which Wigal dealt with
himself as a teen passionate
about gaming. “You go into
these hospitals and
everything you think is
important becomes so trivial
and you realize how
important these basic human
connections are,” he says.
“People are playing games
because they want to
socialize. It’s just a different
way.” —Lizbeth Scordo
THE RED BULLETIN 13

Shipstern Bluff,
Tasmania
SWELL OF
SUCCESS
STU GIBSON/RED BULL ILLUME
Award-winning surf photography isn’t all about
preparation and technique—timing is key, too.
When Tasmanian-born action photographer
Stu Gibson set off for his local big-wave hot
spot with surfer friend Mikey Brennan, little
did he know a career high was looming. “We
were shooting videos with a drone that day,”
says Gibson. “It was kind of gray, and all of a
sudden the sun came out, so I quickly jumped
in the water with my stills camera. About
30 minutes later, it went really cold and ugly
again but I’d got this bomb set of Mikey!”
stugibson.net
15

Gran Canaria,
Spain
A PERFECT
DRY RUN
The water may have long ago been
drained from this abandoned water park
in the Canary Islands, but as a persistent
skater, Tom Kleinschmidt saw there was
still fun to be had. “Two weeks earlier
Tom had asked permission to skate
here, but the guy watching the place
had said no,” explains photographer and
fellow German Erik Gross. “The man
gave the same answer this time, but as
we left he came up and told us to return
at 5 p.m. when he was alone. He said he’d
changed his mind because we’d been so
polite. Then he told us about a famous
skater who’d been a real asshole and
had insulted him. So it pays to be nice!”
erik-gross.net
ERIK GROSS/RED BULL ILLUME

17

“THE ONLY REASON TO BE FAMOUS
IS TO USE ART OR MUSIC TO BRING
ATTENTION TO CERTAIN ISSUES.”
18 THE RED BULLETIN

T H E D E P A R T U R E
Sandra Velasquez
ACTIVE VOICE
The Pistolera frontwoman has a history of advocacy
through her music. Now she’s building on that
experience to become a social justice entrepreneur.
CLAUDIA ZAMORA GARY MOSKOWITZ
Sandra Velasquez has
been a New York
City–based musician
for 20 years, but her Southern
California and Mexican
American roots shape all of her
creative pursuits. She was
raised near the border with her
mother, an immigration lawyer
and activist, and her father, a
homicide detective and artist,
who both instilled a sense of
social justice in their daughter.
“Growing up, we talked
about what’s happening in the
law and the world. My mom
was on the news a lot, talking
about victims of sex trafficking,
so what I do musically is not a
big deal,” says Velasquez, now
43, downplaying her role as an
artist. But in her youth, she
says that using music for social
change felt normal. “My mom’s
whole life has influenced me,
using your experience to help
others,” she continues. “Now
I see clearly that’s what she was
doing, and that’s what I try to
do in all of my work. Leveling
the playing field is what I’m
all about.”
“To me, from high school
on, the only reason to be
famous is to use art or music
as a platform to bring attention
to certain issues,” Velasquez
adds. “Songs I wrote 15 years
ago about immigrants are still
relevant today.”
When she takes the stage
as the lead singer and guitarist
for the Latin band Pistolera,
Velasquez delivers a lively
performance with a socially
conscious message. The
group, which she formed back
in 2005, combines rock and
accordion-driven cumbia
with Spanish lyrics about
immigrants’ rights, racism
and feminism. Earlier this
year, Pistolera played Flushing
Town Hall as part of the
Carnegie Hall neighborhood
concert series, and in the past,
they’ve opened for the likes
of Los Lobos. (If you’ve
watched Breaking Bad or
Sons of Anarchy, you might
also recognize the band’s
special sound.)
But wherever Velasquez
appears, her sense of activism
comes with her. Her other
group, Moona Luna, is a
bilingual band that makes
Latin music for young people
in preschool through 4th
grade. Every Moona Luna
album has a sustainability
theme; their latest is titled
Energia. In April, as COVID-19
swept across New York,
Lincoln Center asked Moona
Luna to do some remote
online concerts. Velasquez
and her bandmates filmed
themselves playing songs at
home and synced the video
together for the center’s
online broadcast.
With her solo project, SLV,
Velasquez presents modern
music that combines elements
of pop, R&B, hip-hop and rock.
One of her songs, “Bars of
Gold,” is about owning your
self-worth. “There was part
of me that felt pigeonholed,”
Velasquez says about her other
projects. “People always
expected a certain Latin-music
thing, and bars would say,
‘Keep us dancing,’ but I wanted
to create a more musical
space for myself with other
types of tempos.”
Velasquez’s latest endeavor
doesn’t involve music, but it
uses all the management and
promotional skills she learned
as a bandleader and the
activism she picked up from
her mother: She’s become
a social justice entrepreneur,
keen to create and bolster
sustainable, Latino-owned
products and get them on
shelves next to mainstream
grocery store products. She’s
recently become a brand
consultant for health-food
grocery stores and teaches an
online class for entrepreneurs
about how to talk to chain
stores and distributors. She
earned a diploma in organic
skin-care formulation and
learned how to make artisan
soap using the Nopal cactus,
commonly known as prickly
pear, which is frequently found
in Mexico. She hopes to launch
her new company, Nopalera,
by July.
“So many people in the
grocery business are Latino, so
why aren’t the products Latino,
too?” Velasquez asks. “I want
to see as many Latino-owned
products on the shelf—not
legacy brands like Goya, but
new people with new ideas
who want to disrupt companies
like Nabisco. I realized my
activism doesn’t always have
to be music—the format can
change. Things like soap can
be just as impactful as music.”
—Gary Moskowitz
THE RED BULLETIN 19

T H E D E P A R T U R E
Playlist
TRUE SOUL
For a band nominated for
Best New Artist at the 2020
Grammys, the Austin-based
Black Pumas have some
pretty vintage inspirations.
Before forming the
Black Pumas in 2017
with singer Eric
Burton, guitarist Adrian
Quesada had been a member
of Latin funk outfit Brownout
and the Grammy-winning
Grupo Fantasma; he’d also
performed as a sideman to
artists like Prince, GZA and Los
Lobos. But he was keen to
work on a soul project, and
when a friend introduced him
to singer Eric Burton in Austin,
Texas, the two hit it off
immediately. The duo notched
their first show in February
2018, with humble goals in the
beginning. “We said, Let’s do it
until it’s not fun, and here we
are, still having fun,” Quesada
says. “We had pure intentions
to simply make songs that we
wanted to listen to.” Here are
four tunes that created a road
map for their sound.
AL GREEN
“LOVE & HAPPINESS”
(1972)
“When I think about Al Green,
it’s like going home. He was
spiritual without being corny
or preachy, and he embraced
love. He’s a human being first,
but he found a way to merge
his worlds seamlessly. ‘Love &
Happiness’ is my favorite
song of his. It just makes you
happy,” Burton says.
NEIL YOUNG
“SOUTHERN MAN”
(1970)
“I started playing acoustic
guitar when I was 22 or 23, and
I had Neil Young in the CD player
in my car. I love ‘Old Man’ and
‘Heart of Gold’ but on ‘Southern
Man’ he’s singing to the rebel.
I love it when he says ‘Southern
man, better keep your head,
don’t forget what your good
book said!” Burton says.
TERRY CALLIER
“WHAT COLOR IS LOVE”
(1972)
“Callier was a soul singer, but
more folk leaning. Before we
met, I put out feelers for a
singer, but everyone was too
retro soul. Eric had a folk style
without trying to be super
retro. We built everything
around the way Eric sings and
plays guitar and it all came
full circle,” Quesada says.
THE TEMPTATIONS
“PSYCHEDELIC SHACK”
(1970)
“The Temptations have hits
that span many generations,
but there was that era
when they were pretty
psychedelic, and
[songwriter/producer
Norman] Whitfield was
the common element.
‘Psychedelic Shack’ is a
great one,” Quesada says.
LYZA RENEE GARY MOSKOWITZ
20 THE RED BULLETIN

RED BULL RACING
NEW STYLES AVAILABLE AT

Dygert (left) and
Courtney share
dreams of Olympic
glory. The two were
photographed near
San Rafael, California,
on January 2.
22

AMERICAN
MUSCLE
Kate Courtney and Chloé Dygert might not seem like
ideal training partners, but the two radically different
personalities, who pursue different cycling disciplines,
are united by a common goal: to win gold in Tokyo.
Words NEAL ROGERS
Photography JOE PUGLIESE

Let’s start with the similarities. Kate
Courtney and Chloé Dygert are both
professional bike racers, both world
champions in their disciplines. They’re
both Gen Z, born after Kurt Cobain died.
Their coaches worked closely with each
other for 15 years. And together, they
represent the best chance American
cycling has for gold at the Tokyo Games—
whenever they ultimately happen.
That’s where the similarities end.
In reality, they are fundamentally
different, which is what makes their time
together in January at Courtney’s “Camp
of Champs” so fascinating. An annual
post-holidays training block, the Camp of
Champs is hosted by Courtney’s parents,
Tom and Maggie, at their Mediterraneanstyle
villa in California’s leafy Marin
County. Also present are two Red Bullsponsored
cyclists—retired cyclocross
champion Tim Johnson and Dirty Kanza
200 winner Colin Strickland—to make
sure the rides are as difficult as possible.
On an unseasonably warm January
day, an entourage of coaches, managers
and stylists are shadowing Courtney and
Dygert alongside a camera crew, video
team and magazine staff. A chef prepares
meals for before and after training rides,

which will begin as soon as the shoot
ends. No one present has heard of
coronavirus—this is a simpler time.
As wardrobe is discussed, there’s a
debate about hot pink: Do they want to
look like badasses, or badass princesses?
Though hot pink is Dygert’s favorite
color, she insists she’s not girlie; one of
many angles to her worldview that might
seem hard to square until she explains it.
She’s got a cross tattoo on the back of her
neck and a pierced nose. She’s a staunch
conservative. She doesn’t drink and she
hates social media. She married—and
divorced—young. She’s grappled with
many injuries en route to 10 world
championships. She views setbacks as
fuel for the fire. She doesn’t believe in
feminism and collects Barbie dolls.
While Dygert has an unmistakable
edge, Courtney is smooth and polished.
Equal parts cerebral and gregarious,
she emits undeniable star power. She
graduated from Stanford with a degree
in human biology. She’s camera friendly
and has 400,000 Instagram followers.
She’s into yoga, meditation and the
power of mantras. She views setbacks as
learning experiences. She cites sparkles,
waffles and tacos among her favorite
Jim Miller,
who has coached
both Dygert and
Courtney, calls the
cyclists “super
fierce warriors.”
25

things. Her racing, like her training, is
calculated. She’s a smiling assassin.
And while they’re contemporaries,
their trajectories to the top have followed
different paths. Dygert burst onto the
scene at the 2015 World Championships
in Richmond, Virginia, where she
doubled up with wins in the junior road
race and time-trial championships. Ten
months later, she left Rio with Olympic
silver in the team pursuit on the track.
Dygert went on to collect rainbow
jerseys on the track, but injuries
curtailed her success on the road. That
ended at the time trial at the 2019 World
Championships in Yorkshire, England,
where she won by a staggering 93
seconds on a 19-mile course, averaging
nearly 27 mph. She took some heat
over her nonplussed post-race interview;
the truth is, she expected to win.
By contrast, Courtney’s rise has been
metronomic. From a young age, she was
the best in the U.S. and among the best in
the world. In 2012 she became the first
American woman to win a World Cup
event in the junior category; she ended
the year as the junior World Cup series
champ. In 2013 she enrolled at Stanford
and signed her first pro contract.
In 2017, Courtney won four U23
World Cup races and the series title, plus
her first elite national championship.
The upward arc continued in 2018,
culminating in a perfect ride at the world
championship in Switzerland. Courtney
was the first American in 17 years to
earn a rainbow jersey. And though she’d
long dreamed of winning worlds, she
certainly hadn’t expected to win—this
was the first time she’d stood on the
podium of an elite World Cup race.
She validated that surprise with
multiple wins in 2019, ultimately
clinching the elite World Cup series
title. There are three holy grails in pro
mountain biking—the world
championship, the World Cup series title
and Olympic gold. Courtney had ticked
off two of them before her 24th birthday.
Courtney and Dygert are both hot
favorites for Olympic gold. How they’ve
reached this point in their careers reveals
how different they are as athletes and
26

Courtney, 24,
confirmed her elite
credentials with an
unexpected win at
the 2018 UCI
Mountain Bike World
Championship.
EQUAL PARTS GREGARIOUS AND
CALCULATING, COURTNEY IS LIKE A
SMILING ASSASSIN.
individuals. Just ask Jim Miller, head of
athletics at USA Cycling, who coached
Kristin Armstrong to gold medals at the
past three Olympic Games. He’s coached
Courtney since 2016; Armstrong has
guided Dygert for the same period of
time. Miller has also worked with Dygert
through his role at the federation.
“I’ve known Chloé since she was 16,
and worked with her a ton on the track
and on the road,” he says. “She’s a
warrior. Once she decides she’s going to
do something, it’s only an act of God that
she doesn’t. She loves to win that much.
That’s Chloé. Kate is also a super fierce
warrior. I love the warrior in an athlete.”
Then Miller explains how the athletes
are so different. “Kate had a great chance
from the get-go,” he says. “She’s well
educated, comes from a super supportive
family. Chloé is from the other side of the
tracks. She had to fight for everything
she has. She didn’t really like school,
though she was a great student athlete.
It has not been an easy road for her.”
How each responded to COVID-19
illustrates their contrasting personalities.
Courtney emailed a thoughtful, crafted
statement, while Dygert texted that she
was trying to think of something that
wouldn’t “piss anyone off.” On social
media, Courtney posted instructional
videos of herself doing strength and
balancing workouts. Dygert, an introvert
who lives alone and often trains alone,
posted that she was ahead of the curve
on social distancing because she’d been
“practicing my whole life for this.”
Eight weeks after the Camp of
Champs, Dygert will go on to win her
ninth and tenth world titles at the
track world championships in Berlin—in
the team and individual pursuit. In the IP,
Dygert will smash her own world record
twice in one day, winning in 3:16, more
than 5 seconds faster than any other
woman has ever ridden 3,000 meters.
A world championship and two world
records in one day would be enough
to satisfy most athletes. But Dygert will
tell reporters she was “a little bummed”
she hadn’t gone faster.
Dygert didn’t spend her childhood
dreaming to become a pro cyclist. She
grew up playing basketball, a religion
in the Hoosier state. Playing hoops took
its toll on her teenage body, however,
resulting in a broken nose, torn labrum,
stress fractures—and a torn ACL that
required surgery and left her sidelined
during her senior year. She took to
cycling for recovery.
In a 2015 interview, Dygert told the
Indianapolis Star, “I love the contact in
basketball. I have a very competitive,
want-to-hurt-somebody kind of
mentality.” That attitude carried over to
other sports; she was kicked off a club
soccer team for being too aggressive and
was asked to play on a boys’ team.
“I’ve had to quit every sport I’ve ever
done because of injuries,” she explains,
itemizing the carnage from her high
school track and field career. “It was just
a train wreck of injuries.”
Enter cycling, which has long been in
the Dygert family. Chloé’s father, David,
is a lifelong cyclist who built a dirt-bike
track at their home near Indianapolis.
Her older brother, Gunner, was a serious
amateur and collegiate cyclist; her
younger brother, Daniel, races cars. Her
mother, Gretchen, is Chloé’s “biggest
cheerleader”—her barbershop is decked
out in pictures of Chloé, her jerseys and
U.S. flags. Gretchen says she saved up for
years to buy a ticket to Tokyo.
Dygert didn’t start bike racing until
age 16. Her first race was in May 2013;
a few months later, at the junior national
championships in Madison, Wisconsin,
she earned medals in every discipline.
It was there that she met Logan Owen,
a cyclocross star who now races for the
EF Pro Cycling WorldTour squad, who
was racing in the same field as Gunner.
“He had no idea who I was,” Dygert
says. “I saw him that year at cyclocross
nationals. I found him on Instagram,
then searched for him on Snapchat.
I accidentally sent him a Snapchat, then
we started talking.” They got engaged
in 2015, when Dygert was 18 and Owen
was 20, and married a year later.
At the 2015 junior nationals in
Truckee, California, Dygert took gold in
27

At the Camp of
Champs in January,
Dygert and Courtney
invited male elites
like Colin Strickland
to help them go as
deep as possible.
28

“SHE’S ALL ABOUT BREAKING
RECORDS. CHLOE WANTS TO
MAKE HISTORY.“
the time trial and road race and silver in
the criterium. Two months later she was
a double world champion in Virginia.
She was quickly recruited by USA
Cycling to try out for the team-pursuit
squad; though she had no experience on
a fixed-gear track bike, her physiological
data dumbfounded national team
coaches. When offered the opportunity
to be an Olympian, Dygert walked away
from college after one semester.
Things moved quickly. Five months
after the 2016 track world championships,
where she helped drive the team-pursuit
squad to a gold medal, she powered a
team that finished second in Rio. Truth
be told, Dygert was unsatisfied with
silver. Following Rio she declared
intentions to compete in the next six
Olympics, gunning for gold across track,
road and time-trial events.
In the fall of 2016, Dygert started
working with Kristin Armstrong, the
2008 and 2012 time-trial gold medalist
who came out of retirement to take a
third gold in Rio. At that point, Dygert
had been working with one coach for
the road and another for the track, and
the overlapping programs weren’t
meshing well. She was no longer
enjoying riding.
“I was a bit nervous because she
was burnt out, and she was so young,”
Armstrong says. “She was getting
married that fall, and she got through
her wedding, and I said, ‘How are you
feeling? You just took a month off. Are
you ready to get back at it?’ And she was
like, ‘Not really, no.’ And I was like, ‘All
right. Let’s just take more time off.’ ”
She came back in style. In April 2017,
just two years since she’d taken up
competitive cycling, Dygert became
world champion in the IP, with a time
only a half-second off the world record.
She set a new world record a year later.
“She’s all about breaking records,”
says Armstrong. “Chloé wants to make
history, to accomplish what no other
female has accomplished. Those are the
kinds of things that drive her. As long as
she has a plan and can see next steps,
she’s fully committed. When she can’t
see the next steps, she drifts a little bit.”
Just as Dygert’s career was starting to
blossom, the 2017 and 2018 seasons
presented setbacks. A torn labrum in her
hip and a bulging disk in her back caused
her to miss the entire summer of 2017.
She had six weeks to train for the world
time-trial championship in Norway,
where she finished fourth. A crash at the
Amgen Tour of California in May 2018
left her with a concussion that derailed
her for most of the year. When she did
get back on the bike, a knee injury
hindered her progress; she’d ultimately
have a surgery in December 2018.
Then, in March 2019, Dygert’s friend
and teammate, Kelly Catlin, died by
suicide. Catlin’s father pointed to several
factors, including depression caused by
a training-crash concussion. It was a
personal loss and a wake-up call for
Dygert, who admits her personality has
changed after her own concussion. “I
really do have to work on being nice,” she
says. “I have low patience. I like to blame
my concussion. It changed my personality.
I’m different now. I feel like I come across
as rude when I don’t mean to.”
The traumatic brain injury also
caused vision problems and an inability
to focus. It became a source of anxiety
while trying to maintain position within
the cutthroat, handlebar-bumping pro
peloton. And it affected Dygert’s ability
to dig deep, both in training and racing,
which had always been her greatest gift.
“When Chloé races, she has almost
no pain filter,” Armstrong says. “She can
turn herself inside out. I can’t train her
off of her race numbers. It’s impossible. I
can’t even explain it. It’s like a pain filter
that I don’t understand as a coach.”
When Dygert got back on the bike
after her concussion, the pain filter did
not work properly. She could match her
training numbers in racing, but she
couldn’t exceed them. And she struggled
with sustained efforts; anything over
five minutes was too long to hold her
focus. “We had quite a year trying to
get through this,” Armstrong says.
It wasn’t until the Pan American
Championships, in August 2019, that
Dygert returned to top form. She left
Peru with gold medals in the time trial
Just seven years
after taking up
competitive cycling,
Dygert, 23, has 10
world titles on the
track and the road.
30

and team pursuit, and a few weeks later
she won all four stages at the Colorado
Classic stage race. Each time, she soloed
to victory as an entire field of riders tried
and failed to bring her back.
“I didn’t think my strength was going
to come back after the concussion and
the knee,” Dygert says. “I knew Kristin
could get me to the top level again; it just
came down to what my body would let
me do. It was a stressful year for us both.
I think Pan Am was the realization. I did
the time trial, and I remember looking
down at my power and thinking, ‘Oh,
crap. I’m going way too hard.’ But then,
halfway through the race I was at 340
watts and I’m like, ‘I’m nose-breathing.
Oops. I should’ve gone harder.’ I got
a call from Kristin after the time trial
finished, and it wasn’t ‘Oh, good job. Oh,
yay for you.’ It was ‘Chloé, you’re back!’
I will never forget that moment.”
A month later she won her first elite
world time-trial championship at age 22,
the youngest man or woman to ever take
that title. She also won by the largest
margin in the event’s history, catching
and passing seven riders who started
ahead of her. She collapsed in a heap at
the finish, yet in her post-race interview
she came across as nonchalant, perhaps
even indifferent about the triumph.
“I don’t want to downplay how special
it is to win rainbow stripes, because I
know it is a big deal,” she says. “I hate
sounding cocky, but my goal at each race
I show up to is to win—to win by a lot.”
The experience taught Dygert a lesson
about how supporters can be fickle. “I
had success at a young age, and then
I had all my injuries, and some people
thought, ‘She was good when she was
young, but she’s not going to be good
again,’ ” Dygert says. “That was the
mentality most people had. I’m not
saying I didn’t have support, but it was
frustrating. I understand, it was because
I’d been injured, I had no results, but
seeing that lack of belief was hard to deal
with. It was amazing how many new
friends I had after winning the world
championship. I’m not upset about it, but
I learned who my real supporters are—
the people who I will keep in my corner.”
31

While Dygert was struggling through
her season of darkness, her marriage was
falling apart. Dygert acknowledges that
she had married too young, and that,
ultimately, her career “just mattered
more.” This past January, the divorce
was finalized. By that time, Dygert had
relocated from Washington to Idaho to
be close to Armstrong.
“I don’t regret marrying Logan,”
she says. “It wasn’t the right decision.
Training with him helped form me into
the rider that I am. I appreciate Logan
and his support. I will always love him as
a friend, and he is someone I will always
stay in touch with. But I think he and
I both knew that it was for the wrong
reasons. I appreciate all that he has done
in my life. I wouldn’t take it back.”
And that’s Chloé Dygert—not wasting
time regretting mistakes or setbacks.
She’s too busy chasing the next victory.
Though she hasn’t lived with her
parents for seven years, Kate
Courtney’s childhood room remains
untouched. Ski racing medals, pictures
of horses and a Macklemore poster hang
on the walls. Scattered on the ground
are boxes of bike-racing gear. Her
mother, Maggie, refers to her daughter’s
bedroom as “shipping and receiving.”
Courtney grew up at the base of
Mount Tamalpais, the birthplace of
mountain biking. She found cycling as
a youngster, riding on tandem with her
father, a former hedge-fund analyst, to
get pancakes on Sundays. She still rides
with him often, while Maggie, a retired
employment attorney, is her agent,
helping negotiate sponsorship deals.
Courtney grew up ski racing and
running cross-country. She began bike
racing as a freshman at the Branson
School, a prep school. In 2012, at a
junior World Cup event in the Czech
Republic—her first international
competition—she finished 10th. Six
weeks later, in Windham, New York, she
became the first American junior woman
to win a World Cup event. She was 16.
FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT:
DYGERT HAS AN OBVIOUS EDGE
WHILE COURTNEY IS ALL POLISH.
The next year, racing as a junior, she
won a national title and finished sixth at
the world championship. Heading into
2014, as she moved into the under-23
category, she signed with Specialized
Racing. It made sense; she’d ridden
Specialized bikes her entire life. The
most promising American mountain
biker, adorned in stars and stripes, would
be bonded with the storied bike brand.
The only drama in Courtney’s career
thus far was her surprise split from
Specialized late in 2018. Publicly, she
was a rising influencer with an infectious
smile, posting with the upbeat hashtag
#sparklewatts. Yet privately, she had
grown unhappy with treatment by team
management, which favored established
Europeans such as 2016 world champion
Annika Langvad of Denmark.
In the week before the 2018 world
championship, Courtney and her mother
32 THE RED BULLETIN

worked out a deal with Scott-SRAM,
managed by Swiss mountain-bike legend
Thomas Frischknecht and led by Swiss
world champion Nino Schurter. Days later
she shocked fans with a world title of her
own, catching and passing Langvad with
superior technical skills on the final lap.
Her new contract came together
before her world title but was not made
public until early January; the global
cycling audience couldn’t have known
the vindication Courtney felt on that
podium in Switzerland. Specialized
founder Mike Sinyard, who covets
rainbow stripes and was not involved in
the team’s management, was said to be
furious. It’s not a topic Courtney cares
to discuss; her public comments on the
matter have been gracious, thanking
Specialized for years of support. She’s
currently signed with Scott-SRAM
through 2021.
At the Camp of
Champs, Courtney
and Dygert banged
out the miles on the
legendary roads of
Marin County.
Behind Courtney’s success is a team
that includes Frischknecht, Miller, a
nutritionist, strength coach, sports
psychologist, physical therapist, mechanic
and her traveling partner, Brad Copeland.
Frischknecht offers technical and tactical
advice; Miller manages the minutia of
workout data and long-range
physiological development.
When Miller first met Courtney in
2015, he wasn’t ready to take on new
athletes heading into an Olympic season,
but they stayed in touch. In 2016 he
officially became her coach. Together
they built a four-year plan for 2020.
“From early on she intrigued me,” he
says. “I thought the results she was
getting on the training she was doing
were exceptional. She’s anaerobically
inclined; she has really good 30-second,
one-minute and five-minute power. At
that time, she hadn’t really developed
a threshold, so she was getting results
almost all anaerobically. Which, as a bike
racer, that’s a finite amount of effort you
can put in before you start to fail. So for
her to get the results she was getting
through her anaerobic energy system,
I was super impressed.”
At that meeting Miller asked Courtney
what she wanted to accomplish. Without
hesitation, she said she wanted to win
gold in 2020. “I was like, ‘OK, cool,’ ” he
says. “But this is what it takes. This is
what the best riders look like in terms
of power-to-weight, absolute power,
anaerobic power, aerobic power. This
is what it takes. And she said, ‘Well, can
I get there?’ At that point it was like, ‘If
you progress on average 3 percent yearover-year,
then yes.’ And she said, ‘OK.
That’s what I want to do.’ ”
Without question, the 2019 season
was Courtney’s best to date. At the season
opener in Germany she won both the
short-track and cross-country races. She
won again the next weekend in the Czech
Republic, and again in France in July.
She finished fifth in a hard-fought world
championship race, but her consistency
netted her the World Cup title.
She closed out the season with a trip
to Tokyo in October, where a test event
was held on the extremely technical
Olympic course. Courtney crashed in a
rock garden during course reconnaissance,
requiring stitches and forcing her out of
the race. The following day, she watched
the women’s race closely with Miller.
“It was a valuable experience for me,”
she says. “I’ve never sat out and watched
an elite mountain-bike race. I was able
to watch with Jim, so that was a huge
advantage. I know how everyone rode.
I know how fast they went in different
sections, what the key sections were—
information that if I had been having a
mediocre, end-of-the-year race, I would
not have really gathered.”
The Izu mountain-bike course is
adjacent to the Olympic velodrome,
meaning Courtney and Dygert could
earn their respective Olympic medals
within a few hundred meters of each
other. When exactly that might happen,
however, is still unconfirmed.
THE RED BULLETIN 33

WHENEVER THE TOKYO GAMES
TAKE PLACE, BOTH COURTNEY AND
DYGERT ARE AIMING FOR GOLD.
.
Back at the Camp of Champs, it’s
a cool morning in Marin, and
Courtney and Dygert are kitting up
for another round of photos. This time,
they’re wearing matching U.S. national
team jerseys and they’re sharing the lens
with a 1969 Pontiac GTO Judge. It’s a
formidable symbol of American muscle
that Courtney envisioned for the shoot.
Are they badasses, or badass princesses?
The truth is, they’re each a bit of both.
Dygert has been under the weather
but is tolerating an operation involving
photographers, videographers, a lead
car, a follow car, an entourage. Courtney
is posing for Copeland, who films a video
of her braiding her hair.
Once things get moving, the riders
get positioned behind the GTO for some
casual motor pacing. Though she’s not
feeling well, Dygert slips into warrior
mode, sitting inches off the car’s bumper;
Courtney is at least a bike wheel’s length
back—not surprising since mountain
bikers have less practice drafting at close
range. It’s yet another example of how
these unlikely training partners are
drawn together less by discipline or
personality than by shared sponsors and
nationality, age, talent and potential.
“It’s unique to be strong American
women competing in different
disciplines, so it isn’t a head-to-head
competition,” Courtney says. “I think
that’s a positive thing when it comes to
training days, where we can push each
other and be comfortable being a bit
more vulnerable. It’s not a race. It’s an
opportunity to push beyond our own
limits and then go back to our disciplines
to perform at the top of our capabilities.
There’s definitely lots of mutual respect.”
Dygert agrees, adding that what they
extract from each other is directly related
to how dissimilar they are. “I think every
top athlete needs to win all the time, but
our mentality is so different,” she says.
“Kate will go out and train 30 hours
a week; I’m not sure I’ve ever gone over
20 hours in my life. She is very detail
oriented. Kate has a lot of support and a
great team behind her, while I have just
a few people. We are so very different in
how we prepare, how we look at things,
how she feels before a race, how she feels
about the Games. Everyone at the elite
level has their own way of coping. We’re
very different, but we’re both able to
perform at the top of our discipline.”
In February in Berlin, Dygert broke her
own world record en route to a world
championship in the IP. A few days
earlier she’d led the team-pursuit squad to
victory; she and her teammates dedicated
the victory to the late Kelly Catlin.
The IP is not an Olympic event,
meaning her hopes for gold rest on the
team pursuit and individual time trial;
she’ll be starting the road race as well,
though her role there is not certain.
“Obviously, I want to win all three
events,” she says. “The time trial is going
to be the main focus, and then my fitness
from that will obviously correlate with
the team pursuit. And then, with the
road race, it’s a bonus, you know?”
Courtney is diplomatic when asked to
define Olympic success. She won’t have
three tries like Dygert; it all comes down
to one race. “Arriving to the start line
100 percent prepared to give my best
performance ever would be a success,”
she says. “Whatever happens after that
is in some ways out of my control. Of
course I hope to win a medal.”
In March, the IOC announced that
the Games would be held in 2021. With
that recalibration in mind, Courtney and
Dygert shared some additional thoughts.
“The coronavirus pandemic has
created a lot of uncertainty and
mandated unprecedented decisions to
protect our global community,” Courtney
wrote in an email. “As someone who
studied global health in college and
reads the news, I recognize that the
impact of this crisis is life-threatening
for many and poses challenges far more
critical than canceled sporting events.
But as a competitor who has been
working toward this season for years,
it is also very challenging to have the
events of an Olympic year be uncertain.
That said, I am fully committed to
my training toward Tokyo and am
approaching this time at home as an
unprecedented opportunity to focus
and train with one key goal in mind.”
She was more succinct on Instagram,
writing, “Our time will come. These
dreams are not canceled, they are just on
hold for a moment. Hope and heartbreak
can live side by side.”
Dygert’s response was quintessential
Chloé—blunt and to the point. “I feel like
a broken record saying this, as it’s what
everybody says, but you have to control
your controllables. For me this has no
change on my life except that I can’t race.
Which to me, is fine. I’m not stressed,
because I know I don’t need to race to
be fit. I train alone most of the time,
I live alone, and I like to be alone, so this
really hasn’t impacted my training or
added any stress to my life. Obviously
it’s a bummer that the Games have been
postponed, but I guess it means I have
another year to get even fitter.”
After Tokyo, Dygert will probably turn
to hallowed European one-day classics
such as Strade Bianche and the Tour of
Flanders. It’s only a matter of time until
she takes on the UCI Hour Record, which
she will likely decimate. At some point
she’d also like to try to win the women’s
Giro d’Italia, though she’s hardly a
climber for the high mountains. (Why,
then? The leader’s jersey is pink. Duh.)
Courtney has said that following the
Olympics she might make a bid for the
2022 Cyclocross World Championship,
held in Fayetteville, Arkansas. “I have
no aspirations of being the greatest
cyclocross racer,” Courtney says. “But
I think there’s a lot of skills that could
help me, and long-term it’s something
I’m interested in trying now that I don’t
have school during the fall.”
But now, it’s January at the Camp of
Champs. A simpler time, with a clearer
focus. The muscle-car shoot is over, and
Chloé and Kate (with Tim, Colin and
Coach Kristin) pedal into the distance.
In the coming months, the certainty of
the Olympics will prove malleable.
Adjustments will be made and remade.
Whenever the Games wind up being
held, both women will represent the U.S.
and aim for gold. Because regardless of
the path each took to get there, winning
bike races is what they do.
34 THE RED BULLETIN

Musing about
Olympic uncertainty,
Courtney wrote,
“Our time will come.
Hope and heartbreak
can live side
by side.”

SHOW
OF FORCE
After a 16-year hiatus, the original gonzo
reality show, Eco-Challenge, is back.
This is the story of the crazy adventure
behind the crazy adventure race.
Words DAVID HOWARD
KRYSTLE WRIGHT/AMAZON
36

Racers in the new
Eco-Challenge,
which debuts on
Amazon on August
14, navigate a
course that took
months to prepare.

Adventure legend
(and first-time
Eco-Challenge
host) Bear Grylls
showboats the day
before competition
begins.
I
t was at the top of a daylong climb up a massive
waterfall in Fiji that Kevin Hodder felt the first
twinges of doubt about what they were getting
themselves into. It was March 2019 and Hodder
was already more than a month into a backcountry
scouting expedition, trying to piece together a
course for Eco-Challenge, the freshly rebooted reality
TV show built around a supersized adventure race.
That afternoon, race director Hodder, race technical
director Scott Flavelle and two others had fixed
ropes and scaled more than 650 feet up the side
of Vuwa Falls in searing tropical sunshine.
Here was precisely the kind of audacious-looking,
stupidly scenic moment that makes for obsessivecompulsive
streaming habits back home. Or at least
in theory, anyway. Somewhere near the top, they
had literally climbed inside a cloud, all mist and wind
and slashing rain. This is typical in Fiji, where warm
tropical air collides with the mountains, but in this
case the climatic whiplash set off an odd chain of
events: One team member, lead race coordinator
Ryan Vrooman, succumbed to heat exhaustion just as
Hodder, who feels the cold keenly, started shivering,
experiencing the early stages of hypothermia.
It was a dilemma. “It’s hard for me to warm up
unless I get moving,” Hodder says, “and it was
obvious that Ryan wasn’t going to be moving.” The
depleted team strung up a tarp for the night and
Hodder recovered in a sleeping bag. The group
woke the next morning, their fourth day in the bush,
to more dreary, cold rain. They pulled on clothes
still drenched from the falls and pushed forward.
For the next proposed section, Hodder and
Flavelle, who had designed many adventure races
together, had selected a 6-mile-long river canyon
that included climbs over two more falls, gaining
a combined 1,500 feet of elevation. From maps and
Google Earth, they could see that the current pooled
38 THE RED BULLETIN

in places along the route like pearls on a necklace. But
the traverse didn’t look egregiously hard. They were
reminded that day of an old truism about creating
adventure races: Don’t believe what you see on a map.
The pools were actually ponds of what Hodder,
51, characterizes as “really, really cold” water, deep
enough to require stretches of swimming. The
shallower sections served up jumbles of slick, algaecoated
rocks hidden just under the surface of the
dark water, making every footfall a gamble. “It was
a matter of finding a speed where you’re not bashing
your shins or falling off rocks,” says Flavelle, 61.
There was no getting around the water, either: The
jungle along the banks was denser than the beats
on a K-Def record. In the end it took nine hours to
stumble, slip, curse, wallow and churn their way
through the canyon—and all four are strong
athletes from the mountains of British Columbia.
“When you’re tired and wobbly,” Flavelle says,
“you’re just fighting for every step.”
On the other side they looked at each other in
the dimming light, aware that they faced a
reckoning. If they eliminated the difficult leg from
the race, they’d just beaten themselves up for
nothing—and would still have to identify and
execute a Plan B the next day, to connect the east
and west sides of the island. “We would be cutting
out the heart of the course,” Hodder says.
But if they kept it? They would need warming
tents to treat hypothermic racers. With 66 teams of
four participants each navigating that terrain, the
potential for unscripted carnage—broken ankles,
Designing a televised
adventure race is like
writing an epic story. You
need crucibles of danger.
dislocated shoulders—would be significant. And
with the low cloud cover, flying in a rescue chopper
would be dicey.
Even if there were no injuries, that 6 miles
would likely destroy any number of teams that had
already been racing almost around the clock for
somewhere between five and eight days by this
point. It would be great TV. But there’s a line, and
they were right on it. As Hodder puts it, “The
question in our minds was, Is it too much?”
Designing a televised adventure race is like
writing an epic story. To create a great one
you need crucibles of indecision and danger
(or at least the appearance of them); moments of
rollicking fun and meditative ones; and challenges
that deliver racers to both Herculean mountaintop
triumphs and morale-killing slogs.
To pull off such a race, someone has to assemble
all of those narrative parts. Which is why, when
producers Mark Burnett and Lisa Hennessy decided
in the summer of 2018 to revive Eco-Challenge after
a 16-year hiatus, they called Hodder and Flavelle.
COREY RICH/AMAZON
The race's start is pure bedlam as 66 teams scramble into outrigger canoes and fight rush-hour traffic as they head toward the sea.
THE RED BULLETIN 39

In a blur, a Spanish
team mountainbikes
past a Fijian
village on the third
day of the grueling
multisport
competition.
Xibalba caption here
Burnett wanted the
toughest edition ever.
Grylls signed on as host,
adding to the hype.
Burnett is the godhead who essentially invented
outdoors-based reality television with Eco-Challenge
and Survivor. The former ran from 1995 to 2002
and is largely responsible for the global adventurerace
craze that endures today.
Burnett had selected British Columbia for the
show’s second season, which aired in 1996, and he
chose Flavelle to help design the course. Though
he was only 38 then, Flavelle already had a vast
résumé of mountain expertise; his work in
expedition-film documentaries had taken him all
over the world. He, in turn, hired Hodder, and the
two have since built a cottage industry around
staging immense outdoor experiences. Hodder was
the operations manager at Whistler Olympic Park
during the 2010 Winter Games and has produced
challenges and contests for many competitionreality
shows, including Survivor, Big Brother and
Get Out Alive with Bear Grylls.
Once they fielded the call that Eco-Challenge was
back, the two old compatriots met at a coffee shop
at Whistler and spitballed possible destinations.
They quickly settled on Fiji, an aspirational, scenic
destination loaded with knee-buckling hall-of-fame
terrain, including mountains, jungles, whitewater
rivers and even its own inland sea. They’d both
designed a couple of adventure races there before—
in fact, Fiji was featured in the final, 2002 edition
of the original Eco-Challenge.
But that didn’t mean it would be easy. This
incarnation of the show needed to be next-level
great. For the reboot Burnett had partnered with
Amazon Prime, which meant greater resources and
loftier expectations than the Discovery Channel had
brought. Burnett wanted the toughest edition ever of
the world’s toughest race. Bear Grylls would sign on
as the host, conferring an even greater level of hype.
But the team still had to manage the risks. “You have
to balance it,” Flavelle says. “To put yourself into
stupid danger is definitely not part of the criteria.”
The harder miles would need to be interspersed
with easier ones, to give teams an opportunity to
recover after they suffered. The rules specify that if
40 THE RED BULLETIN

one team member drops out, the remainder of the
team is disqualified.
Then there are the idiosyncrasies of the Eco-
Challenge franchise. The race draws some of the
world’s top athletes—beasts with massive engines
who can endure days of hardship and suffering—so
the course must rise to meet them with seriously
stiff challenges. But because it’s a reality TV show,
the race can’t be so hard that it quickly spits out the
“lifestyle” teams: the ones with made-for-television
stories about overcoming personal hardships or
father-and-daughter teams racing together. The
former group will be competing to win; the latter
will consider it an enormous triumph just to make
it to Camp 3.
“We’ve got the LeBron James of the sport
competing against high school players, on the same
course,” Hodder says. “The NBA doesn’t have that
challenge.”
And of course it all had to look really, really
good: Camera technology had made a quantum
leap since 2002, so the course would be its own
character—one that would be presented in far
greater detail than any of the previous installments.
Ultimately, there would be 200 cameras filming the
action, including 23 Varicams and a small army of
GoPros and drones.
No pressure, right? Hodder and Flavelle spent
a few weeks sorting through options, a process that
involved studying maps and Google Earth and
talking to people in Fiji. “First and foremost, it had
to be the right adventure,” Hodder says. “It’s all
about the course.”
A U.S. team called
Checkpoint Zero
tries to shine while
racing after dark.
Leading the race to create the new Eco-Challenge were race
director Kevin Hodder (top) and course designer Scott Flavelle
(bottom).
Once they’d done their advance scouting, the
real work began: They would spend the entire
months of February and March 2019 on the ground
in Fiji, and at the end of that time, for the show to
come off on schedule, they needed to have a course
ready to present to Burnett.
It would become the adventure behind the
adventure race. Because if you want to create
a great course, you have to do the whole thing
yourself. And then some.
WYNN RUJI/AMAZON(3), KRYSTLE WRIGHT/AMAZON
In theory, the mission is utterly straightforward.
“Once you know the 10 places you want to
include,” Hodder says, “then you try to piece it
together like a puzzle.”
One immutable fact when designing a race of
this magnitude: Just like with a puzzle, there will
be trial and there will be error. Pieces that look
right won’t actually fit. Early on, Hodder and
Flavelle tested a route-finding challenge. It would
be interesting, they thought, to offer teams the
chance to cut out a hike around a huge oxbow in
a river. Instead of the long, predictable way along
the riverbank, contestants could try their luck with
a shortcut through the bush.
“It happens every time we design one of these
courses,” Hodder says. “You get into one section
that, you look at it on the map and you look at it
on Google Earth and it’s like, ‘Oh, how hard can
it be?’ ”
THE RED BULLETIN 41

Six days into the competition, an American squad tries to
navigate a whitewater section.
In this case, they almost immediately ran into a
mass of vines and thorns that drooped to waist level,
so they were either constantly crawling under the
bush or hacking away at it with cane knives and
machetes. And although the landscape looked flat on
the map, it was actually an endless series of slippery,
mud-covered ravines. “Whenever there was a section
of jungle that we assumed we could get through
easily, it sort of turned out we couldn’t,” Flavelle says.
They realized that because it was so close to the
start of the race, most teams, still operating at full
strength, would likely take their chances with the
shortcut. But in addition to the harsh terrain,
navigating with a map and compass at night would
be impossible. (Teams aren’t allowed to use GPS.)
They imagined a mass of racers bunched up,
thrashing around the jungle, lost. “There was a risk
that it could just be a complete flop on day two,”
Flavelle says. So they scrapped the shortcut.
Another time, they considered linking two
sections with a hike across a tall-grass pasture that
had looked promising from Google Earth, and even
a pass in the helicopter. “And then you get there,”
Hodder says, “and underneath is like this matrix of
heavy vines that are giving you a bruise on your
shins every step of the way.”
They were reminded repeatedly that in Fiji, the
waterways are the real trails. And such lessons came
with a cost. In many cases, they knew early in their
day that a section was unusable but were committed
to exploring it—their ride would be waiting at the
Like the teams who would
come later, the course
designers were also
racing the clock.
other end, and there was often no cell service. “You
know you’re never going to use this piece of terrain,
but you’ve got four more hours of this to do,”
Hodder says. “It’s so frustrating and demoralizing.
And the next day you’re going back to Point A and
have to figure out another route to Point B.”
Like the teams who would come later, they were
also racing the clock, in a sense. Hodder was
expected to present the course to Burnett in early
April. And because it was a scouting mission, the
team could move only in daylight—in order to assess
hazards, note where ropes would need to be rigged
and figure how many bolts would be needed, among
42 THE RED BULLETIN

Eco-Challenge is
at once a stout
adventure race and a
televised melodrama,
and Grylls is the
embodiment of both.
With competitors anxiously listening, Grylls offers a preview
of the course and the challenges they’ll face.
A Canadian squad tentatively floats downstream on tipsy
rafts on the fourth day of the adventure race.
KRYSTLE WRIGHT/AMAZON, ANDY MANN/AMAZON(2),
COREY RICH/AMAZON
many other considerations. They might pedal a
mountain-biking section several times to pin down
the best possible route, or to find a way to avoid
private land. Sometimes they slept in the bush,
other times in villages.
Complicating things further, they couldn’t rush
through Fijian villages without stopping for
introductions and a conversation about their plans.
“You have to stop and have kava”—a ceremonial,
peppery drink made from a root—“and ask for
permission to pass through,” Flavelle says.
Still, just like the racers who would follow their
path, they had their triumphant moments. The day
after the debacle in the tall-grass pasture, they
located a beautiful grassy ridge that led to a village
that’s inaccessible by road and sees few foreigners.
What they sought above all else was variety,
Hodder says. Eco-Challenge teams will hike and
climb, of course, but they will also maneuver pack
rafts, stand-up paddleboards, mountain bikes and
a type of Fijian boat called a Camakau outrigger
canoe, which can be sailed or paddled but is
perilously tippy either way.
Hodder ultimately completed every inch of the
race course, using the same mode of transport the
racers would use, carrying the same gear. Usually
Flavelle came along, but sometimes he traveled
with experts hired for individual disciplines—for
example, he pedaled the mountain-bike legs with
Brian Finestone, former manager of the legendary
THE RED BULLETIN 43

In the dense tropical jungle, often the only clear path is right
down the middle of a muddy, fast-flowing stream.
Whistler Bike Park. They capsized the outrigger
canoes, sometimes on purpose—to see how hard it
was to right the boats, and guess at the possible
number of open-water rescues—and sometimes not.
And then, finally, after eight weeks, the course
came together. Many so-called survival-based reality
shows exist in the space where raw athleticism
meets made-for-television stunts, and campy
suffering meets true grit. At times it can be hard to
tease apart the difference.
But Hodder and Flavelle’s course proposed to
leave no doubt about the onscreen hardships. The
route spanned 417 miles that the racers would have
to cover in no more than 11 and a half days, hitting
cutoff times along the way. The total elevation gain
was 29,730 feet, or about 700 feet higher than the
distance from sea level to the top of Mount Everest.
Four climbing sections would require 30,000 feet of
fixed rope. These sections would include 2,000 feet
of cliffs, waterfalls and overhanging rappels.
Fiji can dish out
more than tropical
scenery, as this
South African squad
discovered on a
mountain-biking leg.
BLIGH GILLIES/AMAZON(2), ANDY MANN/AMAZON

A team of Swedish
racers digs deep on
an outrigger section
they’d hoped to sail,
but the Fijian weather
does not cooperate.
Only at the end, when they could evaluate the
race in its entirety, could they make the call on
individual parts—like the cold-water canyon hike.
Hodder and Flavelle ultimately decided to keep it
in because of its position near the end of the race.
Contestants who made it through that would likely
finish—which, of course, doesn’t make it any easier
in real time. “That was the proverbial fence that
they had to climb over,” Hodder says. “When you
see the TV show, you’ll see that everybody’s
suffering. There is no free pass.”
At the end of March, Hodder flew out to
California to show Burnett the proposed course.
The course spanned 417
miles and had 29,730 feet
of elevation gain.
Eight weeks on the ground and they’d barely finished
in time. “I needed every hour in Fiji,” he says. “Like,
we just got it done, went to the airport for the flight
and drove straight to the office in Santa Monica.”
Five months later, teams would arrive in Fiji to
start racing.
The mood at the Pullman Nadi Bay Resort is
twitchy and tense in the days leading up to
the start. Eco-Challenge teams are required to
report a few days in advance, to attend orientation
sessions on the outrigger canoes and ropes sections
and pose for cameras. Those who traveled from the
other side of the world need to acclimate to the time
change. But the sense of anticipation, and the
mostly idle days, clearly chafes.
The teams of elite racers from places like New
Zealand and Switzerland and Brazil normally don’t
do much sitting around. Then there are teams that
don’t necessarily have world-class athletes but have
THE RED BULLETIN 45

A team of racers
from Costa Rica
navigates a
tropical river on
the sixth day of
Eco-Challenge.
Grylls and Burnett pose with all of the Eco-Challenge racers
just moments before the chaos begins.
stories. Team Unbroken features three American
veterans working their way through combat trauma,
including Gretchen Evans, who is deaf, plus a
physician—none of whom have ever competed in
an adventure race before. There is a team of videogame
makers and a team from a town in California
devastated by wildfire. There’s a father who had
raced in the previous Eco-Challenge in Fiji and is
now back to compete with two daughters. One team
features 23-year-old twin sisters from India who’d
summited Everest. Another has two teenagers, and
yet another has contestants with an average age of
66. There are CrossFit geeks and a circus acrobat
and beach volleyball player. It’s an impressive crosssection
of humanity, and how they will fare against
the assembled challenges here is anyone’s guess.
Milling around among the racers are Burnett and
Grylls. Both men seem eager to ratchet up the
adrenalized scene with the kind of hyperbolic sound
bites that television people specialize in. Burnett
calls the race “an expedition with a stopwatch.”
Grylls recounts how, over the past 15 years,
Burnett would occasionally tell him about his plans
to bring Eco-Challenge back: “He’d say ‘I’m going to
give it to you to make it your own, and you’re going
to make it bigger and badder and tougher than ever.”
With the course, Grylls says they’ve succeeded.
“This is now officially the toughest, most extreme
COREY RICH/AMAZON(2), IDRIS SOLOMON/AMAZON
46 THE RED BULLETIN

“This is officially the
toughest, most extreme
adventure race in human
history.”
adventure race in human history.” He adds that,
although he believes the teams are qualified, “I do
believe there is the potential that no one will finish
this course. We really have set it that high.”
Somewhere inside the hive of humanity,
Hodder paces and talks into his radio, ticking
through countless final tasks. Square-jawed and
preternaturally calm, with a deliberate, precise
affect, he admits to feeling roiled up for days
beforehand. What began with him and Flavelle in
a coffee shop has mushroomed into a production
that costs tens of millions of dollars.
No pressure, right? “We want a significant
number of teams to finish,” Flavelle says. “And
we’re a bit paranoid that nobody will finish.
Imagine on day one: ‘Oh no, I think we made the
course too hard.’ ”
At the start, finally, 66 teams load into 66
outrigger boats on a 10-foot-high riverbank. They
will paddle several miles toward Fiji’s inland sea,
where they will raise their sails. As teams go
through their preparations, Hodder moves up and
down the riverbank with a megaphone, calling out
instructions, a thin line of order against a mass of
chaos. When word finally goes out to start, months
of preparations and workouts and nerves and barely
harnessed energy boils over in a crush of boats
heading together toward a bottleneck in the river.
Half a dozen canoes flip in the frenzy.
A few things, inevitably, go sideways on the
first day: One team collides with part of a bridge,
damaging their boat and prompting Hodder’s
helicopter to land nearby so he can troubleshoot.
Fiji’s omnipresent winds are somehow a no-show,
causing the contestants to paddle what is expected
to be a sailing section. A member of the first team
to finish that sea crossing passes out in the jungle
heat on a subsequent hike. Then the gusts finally
reappear, and the last teams to recross the water
have to be bailed out when they capsize and run up
against squalls and a brick wall of a headwind.
But that afternoon on the second day, as teams
roll into a checkpoint on the island of Leleuvia,
Hodder feels a wave of relief. “Proof of concept,”
he says, grinning.
Within two days, a few teams had already
dropped out or been eliminated—a surprising
happenstance. Others will soon reach the cold-water
canyon, where they will “push themselves to the
absolute brink,” Hodder says, “to the point where
I thought, This team is done—they’re not going to
be able to move from this checkpoint.”
Will they or won’t they? What happens next?
These are the questions Mark Burnett and Amazon
hope you’ll ask yourself this summer.
Midway through the
epic race, Grylls
surveys the vast
Fijian wilderness.

BULLETPROOF
The popular Twitch streamer Anne Munition—a vocal advocate against
online bullying—is shutting down the haters and killing them with kindness.
Words CHRISTINE FENNESSY
Photography JOSH CAMPBELL
48 THE RED BULLETIN

Anne Munition, 30,
has more than
600,000 followers on
Twitch and takes pride
in having one of its
nicest communities.

A
the
As a kid, Anne Munition was a “tiny
little wannabe rock star,” the vocal,
independent, youngest of three kids who
was playing open mics at coffee houses
by age 13, always looking for attention.
She has it now. Today, Anne Munition
(not her real name), 30, is a professional
streamer and a legitimate star to legions
of fans. Back in 2014, while working as
a UI/UX designer and feeling uninspired
by the job, she found Twitch, the livestreaming
platform for gamers that
allows viewers to subscribe to players’
streams and chat with them. She started
her own stream in June 2014, partnered
with Twitch a month later, then quit
her design gig and went full-time as a
streamer in 2015. Today she has more
than 600,000 followers on Twitch and
over 90,000 followers on YouTube and
has a partnership with Red Bull Gaming.
And beyond that, she has a platform to
talk about how we can all be a little
kinder online. Here are highlights from
a conversation about her life and career.
red bulletin: You have a tattoo
of the moon, sun and a star that
represents you and your siblings—
which one are you?
anne munition: I’m the star. That kind
of plays into the rock-star motif of my life.
Was being the star your idea?
No, my mom came up with that. She
used to draw a sun, moon or star on our
Christmas presents instead of our names.
She would say we were her universe.
Your mom gave you a Super Nintendo
when you were 7. What got you
hooked on gaming?
I like solving puzzles. I think that’s what
really drew me in, especially as a kid,
was that video games were about solving
a problem.
You were 11 when you first
encountered harassment playing
games. How did that not deter you?
Anytime you’re playing online, you’re
going to deal with people who are not
very nice. I was just bullheaded. Even as a
kid, I liked to prove people wrong. When
people would say things to push me away
from playing, it was more of a challenge
to me. I was like, OK, you don’t want me to
do it? I’m going to do it even more.
When you first discovered Twitch,
what did you find so enticing about
watching other people play?
Imagine there’s a person online who is
really good at a hobby you enjoy. You can
practice that hobby with them, you can
ask them questions about it, and they’ll
respond in real time. I was working
a full-time job, so I didn’t have time to
play myself, but I loved the games. So
I would watch people play and kind of
live through them vicariously.
What was it about you that made you
think I can do this. I can be a streamer.
I don’t think you get into it thinking,I’m
going to succeed at this. But you get into it
thinking This is interesting and I want to
try it. It turned out that people thought
I was funny. And that’s something that I
pride myself on. I think I can be pretty
entertaining, and other people agreed.
Besides being entertaining, you’ve built
an environment known for being kind.
I’ve been streaming for almost six years,
and I’ve been pretty stringent about
creating a community that people enjoy
hanging out in. Imagine going to work
every day and you hate all your coworkers,
or they’re all mean to you. I didn’t
want to deal with that. People say I have
one of the nicest communities on Twitch,
and that’s one thing I’m very proud of.
“Streamers are trying to build a relationship with people on our channels,” Anne says.
You’ve said people underestimate how
bad it can be online for women or
people recognized as “other.” How
bad can it be?
People will search for anything that
makes you different and pick it apart. I’m
sure athletes or celebrities go through
the same thing, but they don’t usually
have a direct conversation with their fans
on a day-to-day basis. Streamers are
trying to build a relationship with people
on our channels and in our chat, so I
think it cuts deeper. The effect it’s had on
my mental health is pretty bad. It makes
it hard to see the positive side of your
job when you’re constantly exposed to
this negative force. A lot of people see it
like, “Well, you just play video games for
a living. That’s easy, right?” They don’t
see the hate mail you’re exposed to.
50 THE RED BULLETIN

Anne Munition took
inspiration for her
moniker from roller
derby. “That sport
has really kickass
names,” she says.

“Anytime you’re playing online,
you’re going to deal with people
who are not very nice. I was
just bullheaded. Even as a kid,
I liked to prove people wrong.”
How has it affected your mental health?
I’ve become extremely paranoid about
my privacy. It’s also one of those things
where you feel like you can tie your
worth directly to a set of numbers.
Because how many subscribers you have
determines how much money you’re
making, how many viewers you have
52 THE RED BULLETIN

What do you do to ensure your stream
is a kinder place?
I think a lot of streamers are afraid of
being too harsh with their audience.
They’re too scared of timing people out
or banning people from their channel.
I’m pretty ruthless about it because I
won’t tolerate people treating me or
other people with disrespect. Even if
they’re longtime viewers, if someone
starts saying mean things, they’re gone.
What are some of the physical and
mental stresses of streaming full-time?
When I first went full-time, I streamed
for eight to 10 hours straight. I can’t do
that anymore. Now I do four-hour
chunks with a two-hour break in the
middle because it’s not healthy to be
sitting for that long. I take my dog
outside, that kind of thing. But mentally,
it’s hard because when you turn off your
stream, the viewers go away. Even if you
take a bathroom break, you lose people.
It’s like when you’re at a concert and you
get to the front, and you’re like, Well
I really have to go to the bathroom, but
you can’t because you’ll lose your spot.
So you stay there the whole time.
determines where you’re ranked on
the website. Those numbers go up and
down, and sometimes you see that as
your own worth diving. There’s always
that fear the numbers will just keep
going down, and I’ll have to find a
different job. There’s also the paranoia
about other streamers. Sometimes
“I like solving puzzles.
I think that’s what
really drew me in,
especially as a kid,
was that video games
were about solving a
problem,” she says.
people seek you out because they know
you have a good audience. People have
gone through people I actually am close
friends with to get to me. Then I’m not
sure who to trust. Like, who actually
wants to be friends with me? Do these
people care about me, or do they just
care about my channel?
What do you do in terms of exercise
and nutrition to be a better streamer?
I used to have a personal trainer, and
that was maybe the best shape I’ve ever
been in. I did buy a rowing machine. I
use it, but not as often as I should. Diet is
hard for streamers because when you’re
streaming for 10 hours, the easiest thing
is to order food, and it’s often not very
healthy. I’m working on getting better
at what I’m eating. I want to try meal
prepping, making a meal in advance and
then throwing it in the microwave. So
like fast food without it being fast food.
When did you decide to withhold your
real name?
I came up with my username before I
even knew what streaming was. It was
just a gamer tag that I used on Xbox.
What was the inspiration for Anne
Munition?
Roller derby. That sport has really kickass
names. I was trying to think of a name
that would be similar in style, and I really
liked first-person shooters [the genre of
video games focused on weapon-based
combat], so it tied in. It also works as a
first and last name. People will come up
to me at events, and they’re like, “Is your
THE RED BULLETIN 53

Although Anne
Munition makes
public appearances,
she fiercely protects
her true identity.

last name really Munition?” I’m like, “Yep,
totally. It totally is.” I have a pretty unique
[real] name, and so it’s dangerous because
it makes it easy to find more information.
If you give people three pieces of a puzzle,
they’ll find out everything else.
Why is it important to you to protect
your identity?
I think people who have an online
personality, and even just private users
of the internet, should read more about
info security and social engineering, and
how easy it is for someone to go from
knowing one thing about you to knowing
everything about you. They can find
your home address, your phone number,
your family’s addresses, your relatives.
There was a story of a YouTuber couple
who hid in the closet after one of their
fans broke into their house. The guy had
a gun and was going to kill the boyfriend
because he was jealous. That kind of
thing can and has happened. You never
know when you’re going to meet
someone who seems normal but isn’t.
You can see the signs when you’re in
person, especially as a young woman.
You learn the signals and what to avoid.
But online you don’t have that. It’s hard
to have intuition about who’s got good
intentions. Sometimes I feel bad because
people who are just generally curious
will ask, “Oh, where did you grow up?”
I’m like, “Why? Why do you want to
know?” That goes back to my paranoia.
You’ve shared your relationship status
with your followers. How do you make
the calculation between what’s OK to
share and what’s not?
It depends on who is asking, and if I feel
like they can use that information for
something else. My brain kind of has a red
flag where I’m like, “That information
isn’t going to help you find my channel
more interesting. It’s just not relevant.”
Do you ever have a hard time toggling
between your two identities?
Yes. Sometimes I forget what my real
name is. I almost responded to an email
that I was sending to my mom with
[Anne Munition] because I’m so used to
putting that in my emails.
You’ve written about the importance
of having a backup plan—why is that
important to you?
There are a lot of people who dropped
out of high school or college and got into
streaming full-time. I think that’s pretty
dangerous. I discovered streaming after
I got my degree, and I’m still practicing
graphic design and video editing. So if
I don’t want to stream anymore I could
work in video editing or for a company.
People have said, “Oh you’ve just been
streaming, you’re screwed if your
channel dies.” That’s not true because
I’ve been developing relationships with
Corsair and Intel and Red Bull, and now
I have all these personal connections. It’s
obviously not a guaranteed job, but it
gives you a leg up.
Has your passion for gaming changed
over the years?
It comes and goes. It’s like anything you
do every single day. Even if you love it,
it’s going to become tedious over time.
And I’ve been doing this for six years.
When people are like, “Oh, it’s easy. You
“A lot of streamers are afraid of
being too harsh with their
audience. I won’t tolerate people
treating anyone with disrespect.”
When she’s not social distancing, Anne says in-person interactions at conventions are a huge
boost to her confidence. “People are genuinely excited to meet you,” she says.
just play video games,” I’ll say, “Yeah,
I love pizza, but I don’t want to eat pizza
every single day for six years.” Going to
conventions helps me feel revitalized.
Because here’s the thing—when you’re
online you have positive and negative
experiences. When you’re in person, you
almost always have positive experiences
because people who go out of their way
to go to a convention want to meet you.
Those are the people who are really
kind. So when you go home you’re like,
Oh, this is great, everyone loves me,
everybody’s super nice, and I want to
play video games.
Given this time of social distancing,
how are you doing?
Because the conventions I typically
attend throughout the year are
(rightfully) being canceled, coupled with
the stay-at-home restrictions, I do feel
like my mental health has taken a huge
hit. Part of what makes streaming so
difficult mentally is dealing with the
vocal minority of toxic people who are
empowered by the anonymity of the
internet. Attending conventions is the
polar opposite—you’re mostly meeting
people who are genuinely excited to
meet you and it’s a huge boost to my
confidence, which takes little hits each
day. From my perspective, things haven’t
changed too much, but I have had a lot
of people thanking me for streaming
consistently during the quarantine to
provide some respite from the constant
barrage of negative news online.
THE RED BULLETIN 55

GAMERS
LIKE US
To true fans, video games are about community—about
connecting people despite barriers like language and
distance. But like all communities, there’s work to be
done. Consider that 46 percent of gamers are women,
yet they compose just 22 percent of the industry’s
workforce. The overwhelming perception is that gaming
is primarily straight, white and male. But increasingly,
those from other backgrounds are combining their love
of gaming with their talents and drive to create a far
more inclusive community. Here are four of them.
Words CHRISTINE FENNESSY
Illustrations PETRA ERIKSSON
56 THE RED BULLETIN

GENEVA HEYWARD, 20
NEW YORK CITY
Student
W
hile playing video games as a kid,
Geneva Heyward (who prefers
the pronouns “they” and “them”)
felt bad for Mario when he fell
into the lava. Heyward was
fascinated by how their choices
could change the fortunes of
characters in visual novels. And
they got super attached to a robot
in a cyberpunk adventure game.
They just wanted that robot and
its friends to be happy.
It was this sense of connection
and constant interaction with
storylines and characters that
made Heyward—a tech-savvy kid
who loved storytelling—pivot
from an initial dream of being an
animator to being a video game
designer. And the games they
create today make use of that
interaction to tell stories that
foster awareness.
While in high school,
Heyward attended two game
design programs—one at New
York University and one at the
School for Interactive Arts—
and won two national student
competitions for their game,
Green Hero. “It’s a game about
a hero without powers trying
to fight climate change,” says
Heyward. “I was just worried
about the world. A lot of crazy
stuff was happening, and I was
thinking, OK, I could just make
people more aware about it. But
I wanted to do something more,
and be like, ‘Hey, you can do
something as simple as turning
off electronics to help the Earth.’ ”
Heyward has since won
numerous additional awards
and recognition for their games,
including for one called Skate
and Date, a roller derby game
about high-school-aged lesbians,
in which players are helping a
girl named Maggie dodge other
skaters while impressing a
competitor she has a crush on.
“I made sure there’s a diverse
cast of characters, and I wanted
it to be an E for Everyone type
of game,” says Heyward. “When
I was in high school and finally
found games that reflected me,
I was like, ‘Wow, this is great.
Where has this been all my life?’ ”
Heyward now teaches at the
School for Interactive Arts while
studying video game design as
a sophomore at New York
University and has received
consecutive Computer and Video
Game Arts scholarships from
the Entertainment Software
Association Foundation. The
scholarship program supports the
next generation of video game
developers by providing tuition,
mentorship and access to
industry events for networking
opportunities. It’s a program that
Heyward says gives them hope
for what they call a “very messy”
industry, in part because of its
lack of diversity and inclusivity.
An industry they say could
benefit from more diversity in
playtesting games, consistent
recognition of preferred
pronouns and gender-neutral
restrooms at events.
“I want the games industry
to change for the better,” says
Heyward. “A game came out
last year that had a characternaming
screen that was worded,
‘What’s the name that your
parents gave you?’ And that’s
not OK at all. The industry needs
to acknowledge that different
types of people exist.”
Heyward intends to make
that happen. They plan to work
for a small studio, making fun
games with knights and dragons
and stuff, but games that are
inclusive and “not super cis white
male straight and whatever.”
Games that raise awareness
about the many ways people live
this life; that can help all of us
understand ourselves—and each
other—a little better.
58 THE RED BULLETIN

“When I was in high school and finally found games
that reflected me, I was like, ‘Wow, this is great. Where
has this been all my life?’ ”
THE RED BULLETIN 59

“If we want change, we have to create a network where
we’re nurturing talent, bringing women into the industry
and retaining them.”
60 THE RED BULLETIN

ANASTASIA STATEN, 40
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Executive Director, ESA Foundation
I
want to champion people with
passions,” says Anastasia Staten.
Staten serves as the executive
director of the ESA Foundation,
the charitable arm of the
Entertainment Software
Association. The foundation
leverages video games to create
educational opportunities
for kids and provides funding for
schools and nonprofits across the
country. It has also partnered
with Red Bull to create We Are,
an initiative to connect, educate
and inspire women from diverse
backgrounds in the gaming
community.
“I sometimes cheekily refer to
it as cradle to career,” says Staten,
meaning her empowerment of
dreams starts with the very
young. Staten will go into middle
school classrooms, ask who loves
video games and watch nearly all
the hands go up, then watch half
those hands go back down—often
along gender lines—when she
asks who wants to make games.
They don’t like science, they say;
they’re not good at math. “I’m not
good at math either!” she tells
them. But do they also love art?
Fashion? History? Do they want
to be a makeup artist, run a
production crew or be a lawyer?
All these jobs—and more—exist
within the gaming industry, she
tells them. “We try to get them to
think outside the box and show
them role models,” says Staten.
“Many of these schools have a lot
of underrepresented students, so
if you see it, you can believe it.
You can be it.”
High school kids who become
ESA scholars receive money for
tuition or other college expenses,
and for attending industry events
where, among other things,
they’ll get mentorship from
professionals, which can end up
launching their careers. These
are the students, Staten says,
who embody what she never
quite had growing up—a
singular, life-defining passion.
“To play a part in removing the
economic barrier to a quality
education and giving them
access into the industry so they’re
in the best position to get a job,”
she says, “is the most fulfilling
part of my work.”
But she admits that money
alone will not fix the problem of
underrepresentation. “If we want
change, we have to create a
network where we’re nurturing
talent, bringing women into the
industry and retaining them,”
she says. The We Are initiative
targets college students and
those who are early in their
careers and hosts events that
connect them with each other
and with professionals in gaming
and esports to promote
networking and mentorship.
“One of the primary
challenges is that people do not
feel like their voice is valid
because they’re women, and part
of why certain cultures develop
[while others do not] is the lack
of diversity,” says Staten. By
sharing their experience and
expertise, the female industry
veterans of We Are are inspiring
the next generation, who will
further diversify those cultures
for the better.
Facilitating this kind of cradleto-career-to-change
trajectory is
Staten’s passion—a passion she’s
turned into her life’s work.
THE RED BULLETIN 61

AMANDA STEVENS, 32
TROY, NEW YORK
Esports journalist, host, analyst
S
he calls herself the Esports
Unicorn.
For Amanda Stevens, the
moniker had something to do
with her previous gamer tag,
SageGnosis—gnosis is Greek for
“knowledge”—being too hard
to remember and even harder
(for some) to spell. While
contemplating a new one, she
decided that since unicorns were
her jam, and since people had
gotten used to seeing the colorful
Tokidoki Unicornos with the
oversized heads pinned on her
backpacks and clothing, the
tagline made sense. But the name
captures much more than her
love of mythical creatures.
“I’m a marginalized person
twice,” says Stevens. “I’m African
American and I’m also queer
and trans. There are not a lot of
queer, trans, black people in
esports, especially in the content
creation sector.”
Stevens has coupled her work
as a multimedia journalist, host
and analyst with her background
in diversity training (she was
a student coordinator for the
University at Albany Safe Space
Program) to make a niche for
herself in the gaming industry. As
a former judge for the card game
Magic: The Gathering, she didn’t
always feel safe or comfortable at
the game’s bigger events. She
began holding seminars at judge
conferences in both the U.S. and
Canada on how to make game
stores and tournaments more
inclusive. The seminars attracted
the attention of the Organized
Play Foundation, a global
organization that regularly brings
gamers together, and Stevens
helped influence the group’s
policy changes on behaviors that
warrant a game loss in Magic
tournaments.
“Being misgendered five,
six years ago wasn’t culturally
considered threatening language,
and [offenders] only got a
warning,” Stevens explains.
“Imagine you’re a queer person
and someone is being completely
homophobic to you. Well, that
wasn’t considered threatening
language [either], and the most
the person got for it was a
warning. How does that make
you feel at a Magic tournament?
I became very staunch and very
loud about [how] this policy
does not work, not just for queer
people but across the board.”
In esports, Stevens is just as
vocal. She uses her platform to
talk about systemic racism in
the industry like the use of
transphobic language, and how
the inherent expenses in online
games—a dedicated computer
and fast internet—contribute to
a lack of diversity in esports. At
conventions she works booths
for organizations promoting
diversity and inclusion and sits
on panels to discuss the many
ways women are increasingly
contributing to the gaming
world, not just as team managers
or streamers but as business
devs and CEOs. Right now, she
says, her project is challenging
organizations to make their
LGBTQ and POC event
activations more honest and
meaningful, beyond just token
uses of pride colors in June.
“There are trans people,
bisexual people, asexual people,
and people in those communities
don’t think the rainbow is this
great signifier that unites us. Or
maybe it’s Black History Month
and you’d like to see someone
who is mixed represented. If
we’re pushing to make esports
more mainstream, it needs to
represent the community. The
industry has a diverse fan base,
and you’ll get so much more out
of them if you meet them where
they are.”
62 THE RED BULLETIN

“If we’re pushing to make esports more mainstream,
it needs to represent the community. The industry has
a diverse fan base, and you’ll get so much more out of
them if you meet them where they are.”
THE RED BULLETIN 63

“Hairstyle is my main content because it’s been one of
the most important things to me in real life. I wanted this
content for a long time, so I’m happy to share it.”
64 THE RED BULLETIN

DANIELLE UDOGARANYA, AKA EBONIXSIMS, 28
LONDON, ENGLAND
Content Creator
W
ell, since it’s not there, I’m going
to make it myself.
And with that thought,
Danielle Udogaranya, aka
EbonixSims, decided it was time
to start making content for The
Sims 4, a life-simulation video
game. Content that would allow
her to make characters that look
like her, represent her culture
and embody her experience as
a half-Nigerian, half-Bajan (her
mother is from Barbados)
woman living in London. The
first thing she made was a
dashiki—a colorful, loose-fitting
shirt commonly worn in West
Africa—and it was not easy.
“The first time I opened
Blender [an open-source 3D
creation suite], I closed it down
straight away,” says Udogaranya.
“I was like, ‘No, not today.’ ” She
laughs. “But I always tell new
creators don’t be scared to try
new things. You just have to
have patience.”
That was five years ago. Today
Udogaranya is a Twitch partner, a
recipient of a 1000 Dreams Fund
Twitch BroadcastHER grant and
a full-time content creator also
known as EbonixSims, who is
beloved by her community for the
hairstyles she creates—braids,
locks, curls, Afros—which she
has long made available for free
download.
“Hairstyle is my main content
because it’s been one of the most
important things to me in real
life,” she says. “Hair is something
in black culture that is just
amplified. Like when you have
a really nice hairstyle, it’s always
commented on first. I wanted
this content for the longest time,
and so I’m happy to share it.”
Describing the response to her
work can leave Udogaranya
briefly speechless. She is
overwhelmed with gratitude. She
likes especially to talk about the
woman who messaged her about
her niece, describing how much
the girl loved The Sims but never
created one that looked like her
because she herself didn’t like
how she looked. The woman
asked if Udogaranya could create
a certain hairstyle for the child,
and when she did, the woman
wrote to say her niece had fallen
in love with her Sim self and
wanted her own hair done the
same way.
Udogaranya could relate to
that girl. She remembered
playing The Sims 2 as a 13-yearold
and being unable to make
characters that reflected her. “It
made me feel bad about myself,
like, well, I don’t have hair that
people care about making. So
I was able to change how a little
girl perceives herself, and that
will sit with me always. Always,
always.”
She thinks the industry may
be listening, noting that The Sims
now includes more representative
hairstyles. “For me, it’s the
element of having to pay for that
content that makes it feel a little
like a microaggression,” she says.
“It’s like, ‘OK, we’ve made it, but
now you have to pay extra for it,
just to make a character that
looks like you.”
But she is hopeful. And she’s
thinking about the future, about
her own role in ensuring that
everyone can see themselves in
games. Something along the lines
of a chief diversity officer but not
just for a single entity. For the
whole industry.
“All companies could tap me
for advice on being inclusive
when it comes to content
creation,” she says. “And I could
say, ‘Hey, it’s not quite right.
This is what you need to do.’ ”
THE RED BULLETIN 65

LAVA
A N D
ICE
On an alpine quest for knowledge and adventure on
the glacial slopes of the unpredictable volcanoes of
Iceland, one potentially explosive truth becomes clear:
Life doesn’t always transpire on solid ground.
Words MARK JENKINS
Photography CARSTEN PETER and TYLER STABLEFORD
66

Left: Iceland’s
Bárdarbunga
volcano erupts.
Above: The author
climbs out of an ice
cave on Langjökull,
one of Iceland’s
largest ice caps.

We are lost in a whiteout on
the side of the most famous
volcano of the 21st century,
Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull. A
blinding snowstorm rushed
over us in a matter of minutes
and we had to turn around to
avoid driving right off into
the crater. Now we are
heading steeply downhill
into a white void.
Suddenly our superjeep
—a jacked-up 4-wheel-drive
with big balloon tires—has
lost traction and we’re sliding
sideways down the glacier.
The windshield and side
windows are a smear of
disorienting snow and fog,
and I feel certain we are
about to plunge into the
maw of a crevasse.
“Do you know where
the crevasses are?” I ask my
Icelandic guide, Karl
Ingolfsson.
Ingolfsson, sanguine as
the Viking he is, grins. “Most
of them.” As a naturalist,
historian, raconteur and
professional glacier driver,
Ingolfsson has spent more
time on glaciers and in
blizzards than anyone I know.
“Glaciers thrive on
whiteouts and bad weather,”
he says. “They wouldn’t exist
without them.”
Perhaps Ingolfsson
wouldn’t exist without them
either. As an accomplished
skier, ice climber and
mountain guide, glaciers are
his natural habitat. Built like
68

a polar bear, with a bald,
basketball-size head and
mischievous blue eyes, he isn’t
even looking out the
windshield; he’s hunched over
the steering wheel staring at
the little screen on the GPS.
We are somewhere on
the eastern flanks of
Eyjafjallajökull, the volcano
that erupted 10 years ago
and resulted in the largest
air traffic shutdown in
northern Europe since World
War II. Spewing 500 tons of
ash into the air every second,
the Eyjafjallajökull eruption
closed airspace across Europe
for a week. Our original
goal had been to drive up
the heavily glaciated volcano
and circle around the crater
rim, examining whatever
changes have occurred since
the 2010 eruption. Zerovisibility
conditions, which
we would experience many
times in the next few weeks,
turned us back.
“We should be crossing
our uphill tracks,” says
Ingolfsson, talking directly
at the GPS. “Open your
door and see if you can
spot them.”
I swing open the
passenger-side door and
the storm envelops me.
I lean my face down close
to the moving glacier and
attempt to identify old
tire prints.
“Nothing,” I shout.
“Can’t see a thing.”
“No problem,” Ingolfsson
replies as I slam the door
shut.
For over an hour we
travel blind, Ingolfsson
navigating exclusively by
GPS, confidently guiding
the superjeep through a
swirling, opaque whiteness.
We don’t drop out of the
storm clouds until we are off
the glacier and back on black
volcanic rock.
He spins the jeep around
so we can see the storm cap
over the volcano.
“We’ll try again when
the weather improves,” he
growls, clearly disappointed
that he has been thwarted
by the extreme conditions
he so relishes.
MARK JENKINS
Superjeeps—
jacked-up 4-wheeldrive
vehicles with
big balloon tires—
are designed to
traverse glaciers
with minimal
impact.

The author and his team enter a glacial cave formed by volcanic activity deep
inside the Vatnajökull glacier. A hot-springs river runs through the cave.
Iceland, a stark Arctic
country the size of Virginia
with only 360,000
inhabitants, sits directly on the
Mid-Atlantic Ridge. This is a
10,000-mile-long crevice
where the North American
plate and the Eurasian plate
are separating and magma
from deep within the earth is
bubbling up. The island itself
is entirely composed of lava.
By Icelandic standards, the
Eyjafjallajökull eruption was
quite small, and yet it caused
enormous economic havoc.
Between April 15 and April
20, 2010, more than 100,000
flights were canceled and the
airline industry lost $1.7
billion. The postmortem
revealed two reasons why this
particular eruption was so
disruptive.
“The magma exploded
when it came into contact
with the glacier ice,” explains
Páll Einarsson, “fragmenting
into very fine particles that
would remain aloft for several
weeks.” Einarsson is a leading
Iceland volcanologist who
has published 150-plus papers
on the subject. We meet in his
office at the University of
Iceland in Reykjavik.
“However, the most
influential factor was the
weather: The ash plume was
blown directly south,” says
Einarsson with a wry smile.
“It was almost a joke how
efficient it was at getting into
an area where it could do
maximum damage.”
In comparison, an
eruption 100 times more
powerful occurred just a year
later, from the Grimsvotn
volcano, 70 miles northeast
of Eyjafjallajökull. The plume
reached 12 miles into the
stratosphere, but the wind
blew all the ash north over
the Arctic Ocean.
“Hardly anyone outside
Iceland knew or cared about
the 2011 Grimsvotn
eruption,” Einarsson adds.
Grimsvotn has a grim
history here in Iceland. It has
erupted at least a dozen times
in the past 500 years. In 1783,
a fissure on the southwest side
of the volcano, called Laki,
exploded, spraying clouds of
poisonous hydrofluoric acid
and sulfur dioxide across the
country. Over half of the
livestock of Iceland was wiped
out, which led to a famine that
killed about 25 percent of the
island’s population. The sulfur
dioxide subsequently cycled
through the Northern
Hemisphere, causing crop
failures across Europe and
killing 6 million more people.
Benjamin Franklin wrote
about a “constant fog over all
Europe, and a great part of
North America.” Some climate
historians even connect the
food shortages started by the
Laki eruption to the French
Revolution of 1789.
“And Grimsvotn is just
one volcano,” says Einarsson.
“We have 33 active volcano
systems in Iceland, with an
eruption occurring about
every other year. Eruptions
are our most popular form
of entertainment,” he jokes,
obviously pleased. “With the
Bárdarbunga eruptions in
2014 and 2015, everybody
wanted to go have a look, and
civil defense had to close the
region due to the high levels
of sulfur dioxide in the air.”
Bárdarbunga, another
volcano beneath the
Vatnajökull ice cap only 20
miles north of Grimsvotn, is
the location of the most recent
eruption in Iceland. Scientists
had known Bárdarbunga was
about to blow for months.
GPS measurements had
revealed the volcano was
inflating with magma, like a
balloon, and seismographic
recordings had revealed an
increasing frequency of small
earthquakes. By the summer
of 2014, “swarms” of little
earthquakes, sometimes over
a thousand in one day, were
rippling through the volcano.
On August 29, rather than
blasting out the old caldera,
pressure from the rising
magma created a dyke
that flowed horizontally
70 THE RED BULLETIN

The author explores
an ice cave. The
dark striations in
the ice are layers
of vocanic ash
deposited over the
millennia.
Inside the lower
Kverkfjöll glacier
cave, a river
warmed up by the
volcano creates a
lot of water vapor.
underground for 30 miles
before breaching the surface.
Although there was no ash
explosion, lava flowed from
the fissure for the next six
months and 11 million tons
of sulfur dioxide was spewed
into the air, more than is
produced by all the factories
in Europe in one year. On
February 28 the eruption
officially ended, the fissure
having acted as an effective
release valve.
“The source of the uplift
for Bárdarbunga is 10
kilometers underground,”
explains Einarsson. “So it
took a long time for the
magma to reach the surface
and we could track it quite
well. But each volcano
behaves uniquely; each is
different, and you can’t
necessarily apply experience
from one to another.”
Einarsson says he tends
to see volcanoes much like
people, with their specific
temperaments and behaviors.
“Grimsvotn, Bárdarbunga,
Krafla—they’re all restless,”
he explains. “But Hekla, Hekla
is ready to blow!”
Hekla is a small,
independent volcano that has
erupted more than 20 times
in the past millennium.
“Hekla is more dangerous
than Bárdarbunga or
Eyjafjallajökull,” says
Einarsson, “because it has
such a short fuse. Most
volcanoes give considerable
warning before they erupt,
but on Hekla, the time from
the first earthquake swarms
to the actual eruption can be
just 20 minutes. Anyone on
Hekla, a popular volcano for
hikers, would not have time
to escape.”
THE RED BULLETIN 71

This dire prognostication
inspires Ingolfsson to
take me for a drive up
Hekla, a volcano we hadn’t
explored on my last visit to
Iceland. Awake before dawn
for a proper Viking breakfast—
two slugs of cod liver oil
washed down with a big bowl
of skyr, a sour yogurt—
Ingolfsson checks the
weather on his computer.
“Fog, then a bit of
righteous sun, then cold wind,
maybe some real snow,” he
says cheerfully, rolling his Rs,
his accent sounding a little
Scottish. “Iceland has four
seasons: morning, day,
evening and night.”
As we drive east from
Reykjavik, the world’s
northernmost capital, home
to more than 200,000 people,
two-thirds of all Icelanders,
Ingolfsson says that his
country has only two endemic
species, the field mouse and
the Arctic fox. “The landscape
is too severe to support large
ungulates like elk or deer,”
he says. “We have just three
geographic zones: inhabitable
lowlands where humans live,
uninhabitable highlands
where almost nothing
grows and glaciers, where
nothing lives.”
Vatnajökull, the largest
glacier in Europe, covering
3,100 square miles with
an average thickness of
1,600 feet, fills much of
southeastern Iceland.
Vatnajökull is actually an ice
cap composed of dozens of
glaciers and paves over two
large volcano systems,
Grimsvotn and Bárdarbunga.
Iceland is also home to the
most powerful waterfall in
Europe, Dettifoss, which,
engorged with glacial
meltwater, can pour at 21,000
cubic feet per second, about a
quarter that of Niagara Falls.
We stop at a roadside
diner for a classic Viking
lunch: mutton soup—large
chunks of lamb with potatoes
and carrots—and a hunk of
dense bread. The wind is
cuttingly cold, but Ingolfsson
is inured. I’m in mountain
boots and a wind parka. He is
wearing a holey wool sweater
and sandals. “Sandals and ski
boots are all you need in
Iceland,” he insists.
Fortified, we set out in our
superjeep, winding through
high, barren, rust-colored
hills up into the snow.
Ingolfsson drops the double
transmission into “crawler
gear” and we begin to ascend.
Superjeeps are unique
to Iceland, although a few
have now been exported to
Antarctica. Outwardly
they appear similar to a
customized, big-wheeled
off-road vehicle, but in this
environmentally sensitive
country, ORV travel is
prohibited. Superjeeps are
designed exclusively for
travel over snow and selfhealing
glaciers, not redneck
mud-hogging. For flotation,
the tires are exceedingly
wide and soft.
Halfway up the vast white
cone of Hekla, we start to bog
down in deep snow. “Drop
the tire pressure to 7 psi,”
says Ingolfsson, adjusting his
wraparound glacier glasses
on his shaved head.
At my left knee, in the
passenger seat, is a vertical
metal rack with six switches
on the front and pressure
hoses extending out the back.
The hoses weave through the
vehicle, plugging into each
tire and the air pump. There
is a deflation switch, an
inflation switch and a switch
for each individual tire. I flip
the deflation switch and open
the gauges for all four tires.
As the tires deflate, they
begin to grip the snow and
the superjeep lurches uphill.
As we traverse an eyesearingly
white side slope,
the superjeep, keeled over
like a sailboat in a strong
wind, begins to lose traction
on the uphill side. Ingolfsson
orders me to drop the rightside
tire pressure to 3 psi.
I hang out the window and
watch as the huge tires go
basically flat, the rubber
72

The Bárdarbunga
eruption began in
August 2014 and
lasted six months.

wrinkling, and begin grabbing
the snow like claws.
Ingolfsson has been glacier
driving since he was a boy
and can feel the consistency
of the snow through the
chassis of the jeep. We swing
back to the northeast ridge
of Hekla and the tires start
to spin out. The angle is
so severe it feels like the
superjeep is about to flip
over backward.
“I don’t think we can
make it,” I say.
He winks. “Drop the
pressure to 2 psi for all tires.”
I do so, but the tires
continue to spin out.
Ingolfsson opens his driver’sside
door, stands up and gets
his substantial body weight
forward of the cab, steering
with one leg.
“You need to get out on
the front bumper,” he yells.
I jump out, climb my way
up the snow and pull myself
onto a square aluminum
platform that juts out from
the front bumper. He had
this perch specifically
designed for redistributing
weight and balance. My body
weight gives the front tires
just enough traction and we
slowly begin to bounce our
way up the icy snow.
Improbably, we drive
right to the summit of a
mountain that is a steep
tramp for hikers in the
summer. We park, get out
and walk around.
Heat from the belly of
Hekla has melted the snow
off the top of the volcano.
The black rocks are rimed
with icicles and steam rises
from holes between the rocks.
It does feel as if this volcano
could blow at any moment.
One key objective
of researchers who
study Icelandic
volcanoes is to
determine in
advance when
they’ll erupt.
74

Icelanders, who
mark history by
volcanic events,
know that
explosive change
is a constant.
“When Hekla blew in
1104, the Celtic monks of
Iceland began spreading the
word that Hekla was the
passageway to hell,”
Ingolfsson remarks. “Sailors
steered clear for centuries.
“The eruption in 1693
killed off many trout, salmon
and ptarmigan,” he continues,
as if it happened just last
week. “The eruption in 1947
lasted 13 months and spread
lava over 15 square miles.”
Driving down off the
summit of Hekla, we start to
slide and I’m tempted to just
get out and walk. I think we
might roll, but we don’t. We
just keep slipping over the
ice, which doesn’t bother
Ingolfsson in the least.
“It’s just like being on skis,”
he says. Ingolfsson has been
imperturbable in every
situation I’ve ever been in with
him. He has ice in his veins.
Back on a sandy black
road, he checks the forecast.
“Everything has changed, of
course,” he says. “We’ve got
a window of decent weather.
I think we should try
Eyjafjallajökull again.”
Iceland was founded by
Norwegian Vikings and
their Celtic slaves in 874
AD. Although there was
periodic trade with Europe
over the centuries, separated
by an enormous, icebergfilled
ocean, Icelanders
developed a distinct culture.
They still speak 9th
century Norse, a language
that modern Norwegians can
no longer understand, and
have a written record that
goes back to the beginning.
The literacy rate is 99
percent and literature is
revered. All students still
read medieval Icelandic
literature—the Saga of Eirik
the Red, the Saga of Ref the
Sly, the Saga of Gunnlaug
Serpent-Tongue.
Chess is a national sport,
hákarl—putrefied shark—
a national dish, and the
otherworldly weather a
national conversation. There
is virtually no crime and no
poverty and the police do not
carry weapons. Almost half
of all Icelanders are atheists.
Homes are warmed with
cheap geothermal hot water
and soaking in natural hot
pools is a national pastime.
Icelanders have lower infant
mortality and greater
longevity than Americans.
Taxes are high but health care
is free. According to a United
Nations report, Iceland is
ranked as the 4th happiest
nation in the world.
All this even though
Iceland is covered with
glaciers and volcanoes.
Icelanders live in a world
where geologic time and
historical time are
contemporaneous. They
mark their history by
volcanic eruptions.
Iceland has the oldest
functioning legislative
assembly in the world, the
Althing, established in AD
930, and in AD 1000, floods
caused by the eruption of the
Katla volcano washed across
the country. Hekla erupted in
1104, 1158, 1206 and so on.
The Katla eruption of 1625
destroyed 25 farms. Three
people died in the 1727
eruption of Öraefajökull.
Grimsvotn erupted in 1903,
the same year the first
Icelandic fisherman bought
an outboard motor. At that
time there were no hospitals,
no highways, no public
schools, no police. A century
later, despite continuing
eruptions and the economic
devastation of 2008 (after
Lehman Brothers went under,
the major Icelandic banks
exploded and the value of the
krona collapsed), Iceland is
still one of the world’s most
prosperous countries.
“Never underestimate
climate or geography,”
Ingolfsson told me a decade
ago, after we’d gone ice
climbing inside a glacier cave
on Langjökull; the cave
collapsed several years later.
“Climate and geography are
destiny.”
Most of us imagine that
the ground beneath us is
relatively unchanging. We
have metaphors about
building a life on solid ground.
Icelanders know better. The
geography of their country is
always changing. Icelanders
expect change, even explosive
change, and expect to figure
out how to deal with it.
“Change, not stasis, is our
status quo,” Ingolfsson told me.
Iam probing along the
crater rim for crevasses.
After Eyjafjallajökull
erupted in 2010, the caldera
collapsed, snow fell and the
glaciers began to grow again.
Ingolfsson has sent me out
ahead of the superjeep with
an avalanche probe to make
certain we don’t drive into an
unseen crevasse.
“Don’t get too close to the
crater’s edge,” he warns. “You
never know where heat from
the volcano has hollowed it
out underneath.” Peering over
the lip into the snow-filled
caldera, I see steam rising
from small black holes.
On mountains around the
world, I have probed for
75

A drone
photograph
captures the
peculiar surface
formations around
the entrance of the
Kverkfjöll cave.
crevasses, but I have never
needed a snowbridge that
could support the weight
of anything more than
a mountaineer. Now
Ingolfsson, in our hefty
superjeep, is crawling
along behind me as we
circumnavigate the rim of
Eyjafjallajökull one pole
punch at a time.
There are fantastic
photographs of the
Eyjafjallajökull eruption, a
plume of black ash billowing
into the sky above a white
cone, some of which are in
the Volcano Museum in
Stykkishólmur, founded by
glaciologist Haraldur
Sigurdsson. “In hindsight, the
Eyjafjallajökull eruption need
not have been so disruptive to
air travel,” says Sigurdsson,
editor-in-chief of the gigantic
2015 Encyclopedia of
Volcanoes. “The European
aviation agencies simply
panicked. Decisions were
made without data.”
Several months after
the eruption, Rolls-Royce
released a study that revealed
its jet engines could
withstand 2,000 micrograms
of ash per cubic meter of air.
“The Eyjafjallajökull eruption
only created 40 to 70
micrograms of ash,”
Sigurdsson says, “onefortieth
what the aircraft
engine could tolerate.”
The ash cloud never went
higher than about 25,000 feet,
and most transcontinental
flights cruise above 30,000
feet. In truth, there was no
real threat to the safety of
airline passengers. European
agencies were simply being
extra cautious. In the decade
since then, regulatory
agencies and airlines have
changed their disaster
response models to include
recent scientific data.
“The real trick is to be
able to predict eruptions—
to know basically what will
happen before it actually
happens,” says Sigurdsson.
“This requires ground
deformation studies.”
Using radar and GPS
data, the rate of
inflation or deflation
of a potentially threatening
volcano can be accurately
determined. Indeed, by closely
monitoring GPS data from
Bárdarbunga, Sigurdsson
predicted in October 2014
that, according to a formula
his grandson Gabriel Solvi had
developed, the eruption
would end after 173 days, on
March 4, 2015. He was almost
dead on; the eruption ended
on February 28.
This confirmed what
Einarsson had told me when
I first arrived in Iceland.
“When we have the data,
we can forecast eruptions
quite well, actually. I know
the popular sentiment is that
eruptions are random,
unpredictable events, but in
the past 40 years, we’ve
successfully predicted most of
them,” he said. “What we can’t
predict is the human reaction.”
Then he told me the story
of the time he was on a talkradio
program during the
Eyjafjallajökull event. An
Irish woman dialed in and
was aghast at Einarsson’s
insistence that volcanic
eruptions were largely
predictable. “Look at all these
poor people stranded in the
airports,” she said. “If you
can predict an eruption, why
don’t you just stop it.”
Ingolfsson and I manage
to completely traverse
Eyjafjallajökull by superjeep,
and then without stopping
continue on up Mýrdalsjökull
glacier to the top of Katla,
another notorious Iceland
volcano.
On the summit he steps out
onto the glacier in his sandals,
dropping into the snow. We
are surrounded by brilliant
whiteness that curves off to
the horizon in all directions.
“When this one goes
again, it’s predicted to be 10
to a hundred times bigger
than Eyjafjallajökull,” says
Ingolfsson, almost joyful at
the uncontrollable geological
exuberance of his country.
77

guide
Get it. Do it. See it.
JAN KASL/RED BULL CONTENT POOL
DREAM TRIPS
Though it’s not the best time to travel, it’s an ideal
time to plan a life-list adventure. Here are four very
big ideas for your bucket list. Words EVELYN SPENCE
Picture yourself on a
freeform epic on
New Zealand’s South
Island, where primo
beaches and Instaready
peaks beckon.
THE RED BULLETIN 79

Do it
G U I D E
WILDERNESS SUP ON
THE YUKON RIVER
If—since the COVID-19 era
began—the thought of being
around crowds of people
makes you break out in
anxious hives, consider
Canada’s Yukon Territory.
It has an area larger than
California with onethousandth
the population.
(Twice as many moose as
humans, they say.) And
consider, then, how to get
away from the Yukon
standards. The answer? A
multiday SUP trip on the
Yukon River, which rushes
up to 8 mph past wolves and
moose and mink, Klondike-era
cabins and creepy remains of
sternwheelers the length of
Boeing 737s. You and your
inflatable paddleboards and
bear-proof barrels of grub can
all be dropped by floatplane
at the headwaters, where the
first section of water, Thirty
Mile, pours out of moody Lake
Laberge—and is considered
one of the finest stretches of
paddling on the continent.
From there, it’s the Wild West:
You don’t have cell service,
you don’t have to wrangle a
permit, there’s no road access
for miles, and you can camp
wherever the hell you want as
long as Leave No Trace is your
religion. It’s no whitewater
gauntlet, either; even relative
newbies can handle the
Yukon’s cruise control. If you
want guidance—and portable,
propane-powered hot tubs
that simmer under the
Northern Lights—reserve a
four-day, 120-mile trip from
Laberge to Carmacks with
Stand Up Paddle Yukon, the
only outfitter who runs the
river. The laid-back owner,
Stuart Knaack, can tell river
yarns all day (and will feed
you really good fire-grilled
steak). “Understanding the
Yukon, for me, is like trying to
understand the sun setting
over the ocean,” says Knaack.
“It’s one of those things you
just have to see for yourself.”
Stay The stylish, just-opened
Raven Inn—cabin chic, with
a hot tub looking over the
Yukon River—is the first new
hotel in Whitehorse since the
1970s. The floor-to-ceiling
windows of the “glass chalets”
at Northern Lights Resort and
Spa, about 20 minutes from
town, are perfect for viewing
the aurora.
Eat Opened last year,
Wayfarer’s Oyster House has
its shellfish flown in from both
coasts and feels more L.A.
than lumberjack. Pre-mission,
fill your belly with an ABC
(avocado, bacon, cumin
gouda) from Montreal-style
Bullet Hole Bagels or some
Sleep can wait if
you stay in the
glass chalets at
the Northern
Lights Resort.
There is getting
away from it all,
and then there is
an SUP adventure
on the Yukon River.
carrot-lox toast from brandnew,
vegan Kind Café.
Drink The beer on tap at
Woodcutter’s Blanket, a
refurbished 1930s-era log
cabin, changes constantly at
the whim of quirky brewer
Scott Shailer—and cocktails
are mixed with foraged,
boreal bitters from Free Pour
Jenny’s. For good cocktails
and fancy bar food, hit Dirty
Northern Public House. Divey,
historic 98 Hotel is one of
the Yukon’s two remaining
“breakfast clubs” (it opens
at 10 a.m.).
Guide Stand Up Paddle Yukon
checks off all the highlights,
including the floatplane ride
from Schwatka Lake to the
headwaters of the Yukon.
80 THE RED BULLETIN

Dream Trips
The snorkeling
options around
Nosy Be are
almost endless.
Admit it, you’ve always wanted to
see a white-fronted brown lemur.
The Malagasy people have strong
traditions of theater and dance.
WOLFGANG BUBLITZ/NORTHERN LIGHTS RESORT, JORDAN CURET, LOUISE JASPER(3)
TOUR A DIFFERENT
WORLD IN MADAGASCAR
“Madagascar is a place like
no other,” says Chien Lee,
a wildlife photographer who
spends half his year on the
Texas-size island leading
trips—and staking out his
subjects. “The biodiversity
here is astounding.” There’s
a reason it’s sometimes called
the Eighth Continent: 90
percent of its plants and
animals exist nowhere else on
earth. But its geography is just
as varied—dripping tropical
rainforest like Masoala in the
east, dry forests in the west,
desert canyons in Isalo
National Park to the south,
3,000 miles of coastline and
250 smaller islands. You can
snorkel the extensive reef
system around Nosy Be,
especially the highly protected
Nosy Tanikely, and encounter
enormous, docile whale
sharks. Take a week and float
the Mangoky River, says Gary
Lemmer, owner of Remote
River Expeditions. “It’s so
peaceful, passes through one
of the largest baobab forests
on the planet and has white-
sand beaches you can land
a 767 on,” he says. In Tsingy
de Bemaraha, you can crawl
through caves and cross
suspension bridges to check
out extraterrestrial limestone
formations; in steamy
Ranomafana National Park,
you can spot several species
of endangered lemur
(Madagascar has 101 kinds).
Remember, travel here is no
cakewalk. “Roads are mostly
terrible,” says Lee. “Deep,
axle-grinding potholes for
nine-plus hours.” And unless
you’re fluent in French or
Malagasy, the language
barrier is real. But it’s worth
the challenge, says Lemmer.
“The Malagasy are the most
sensitive and welcoming
people in the world.”
Stay Gary Lemmer’s
welcoming hotel in
Morondava, Chez Maggie,
is more than just a place
to crash—it has a decent
restaurant, pool, gardens and
spectacular sunsets. Accessible
only by sea or foot, the six
stilted bungalows of Masaola
Forest Lodge are surrounded
by pristine rainforest and reefs.
Eat “One place really sticks
out for absolutely fantastic
food,” says Lee. And that’s
Mad Zebu in dusty Belo
Tsiribihina—Michelin-caliber,
French-leaning, white
tablecloths. In Antananarivo
(usually called Tana), Le
Saka—in the charming
Sakamanga Hotel—is beloved
for its French/Malagasy
fusion.
Drink Three Horses Beer
(THB, or “Tay-Ash-Bay”) is
cheaper than water and you’ll
see it everywhere; rhum
arrangé (spiced rum) comes
The Masoala
Peninsula has
vast protected
rainforests.
in seemingly countless flavors.
You’ll be passing through
Tana at some point, so while
you’re there, stop into Kudéta
Urban Club for swank and
Madagascar Underground
for live music by locals.
Guide For hiring vehicles,
booking domestic flights and
making lodge reservations,
Boogie Pilgrim—in country
for 30 years—will nail the
logistics. Prefer a high-end
trip? MT Sobek (glamping,
sundowners) has been
running trips here since the
1990s.
THE RED BULLETIN 81

Do it
G U I D E
MULTISPORT MADNESS
IN THE DOLOMITES
Call us sentimental, but after
everything northern Italy has
been through this year, it
makes sense to throw a little
love thataway—not that it’s
ever hard to rave about a place
like the Dolomiti. Spires and
towers, so blocky they’re
almost architectural, jut like
molars out of gentle emerald
foothills and Insta-ready
towns, all dotted with highalpine
huts and connected
by strings of ski lifts. “I’m a
mountain lover, and I’ve
visited many mountain ranges
in the world, but I’ve never
seen anything that compares
to my Dolomites,” says Enrico
Maioni, an IFMGA guide and
Cortina d’Ampezzo native
who’s worked the rock for 36
years. There are hundreds of
limestone walls and craggy
pinnacles to climb here, most
of which start at your front
door: 5.10 Tofana di Rozes is
long and demanding, “a local
classic,” says Maioni. Piz
Pordoi has 20-plus pitches
of amenable, 5.7 cruising.
Cortina, especially, is known
Whether you want
to hike, bike or run,
the local trails dish
out crazy-good
scenery.
for the suspension bridges and
ladders of via ferrata. To cover
more ground, take a mountain
bike on the Sellaronda, a 40-
mile or so circumnavigation—
up chairlifts, down singletrack,
through mountain villages—
of the stunning Sella Group.
(You can bike the roads, too.)
Hikes range from idyllic
meadow strolls to nearvertical
scrambles: the10-plusmile
loop from Selva Val
Gardena to Rifugio Puez has
all of it. Don’t miss the crowsnest
of Rifugio Nuvolau, says
Maioni; it’s the oldest hut
in the Dolomites, with
360-degree views, and
exemplifies the civilized
adventure you find here. It’s
the kind that starts with
cappuccino, ends in Nosiola
and exudes a living nostalgia
we’ve come to crave.
Stay For Maioni, a night at
Rifugio Lagazuoi can’t be beat:
a Finnish sauna built from
local larch, hearty dinners
and 9,000-foot views. Each
room at the Ambra Cortina is
unique—from cow prints to
elaborate boiserie—and it sits
square in the middle of town.
Après adventure is on a higher level at La Stua.
Resplendent in the middle
of Alpe di Siusi, the largest
mountain plateau in Europe,
Adler Lodge Alpe has none of
the Tyrolean twee of many
hotels in the Dolomites.
Eat In Cortina, Ristorante 5
Torri has more than 50 kinds
of pizza—all likely better than
anything you can get in North
America. St. Hubertus, in Alta
Badia, has racked up three
Michelin stars for super-local
wild game and mountain
herbs. The Dolomites region
is known for a unique Ladin
culture and language, and
family-owned Maso Runch
Farm is the spot to try its
cuisine: filled savory pastries,
barley soup and furtaies (a
spiral-shaped, fried dessert).
Drink On the edge of Selva, La
Stua has a big sunny terrace
and large platters of speck (get
a small balcony if you want an
exclusive sommelier). Enoteca
Cortina serves Soave, prosecco
and local cheese under
vaulted ceilings. For good
beer, Bar Sport in Cortina is
usually packed. Wherever
you are, try a bombardino—
brandy, warm egg liqueur and
whipped cream.
Guide For climbing and via
ferrata, Maioni knows the
Cortina area front and back;
he was part of the Gruppo
Scoiattoli (the “squirrel
group”), the most famous
group of climbers of Italy.
Bike Hotel Linder, in Selva,
has knowledgeable guides
and all-inclusive packages.
Rethink roughing it at the Adler Lodge Alpe.
82 THE RED BULLETIN

Dream Trips
You won’t be stuck
at home forever, so
start dreaming—
and planning—now.
LASTUA, JAN KASL/RED BULL CONTENT POOL(2), THADDAEUS SALCHER, JASON KELLY, OGB
CRUISE NEW ZEALAND’S
SOUTH ISLAND
We’ve all fantasized about it,
but few of us have done it:
flown to the other side of the
world, rented a campervan,
disdained the word “itinerary”
and taken to the road on a
meandering search for
adventure. And the South
Island of New Zealand tops
the nomad’s canon thanks to
its freedom-camping ethos—
and the mind-blowing number
of nooks, crannies, glaciers,
fjords, rapids and summits
stacked across a landmass
a bit smaller than Georgia.
Some greatest hits: The new,
34-mile Paparoa Track is the
only purpose-built route for
both mountain bikers and
hikers, with overnight huts
along the way. For a mix of
gravel and roads, the 75-mile
West Coast Wilderness Trail
is gorgeous (and soggy), not
far from the area’s biggest
draw, the Fox and Franz Josef
Glaciers. Kayak or SUP the
Class III wave trains on the
Buller River, one of the
country’s longest—or paddle
past dolphins and fur seals in
Doubtful Sound, bigger and
less known than nearby
Milford. For views, the Sealy
Tarns Track stairsteps 2,000
feet to the payoff: 12,218-foot
Mount Cook and the Hooker
Valley. (You can climb Cook,
but Mount Aspiring is a less
dangerous, equally technical
test piece.) If you’re proficient
at sight-casting dry flies, the
crystal-clear waters of the
Moteuka and the Rai hold
brown-trout torpedoes. And
the golden-sand beaches,
native forests and limestone
cliffs of Abel Tasman National
Park have some of everything,
so swap your camper for
hiking boots, kayaks, water
taxis or a catamaran. Of
course, this is just a start, and
one that’s starting to sound
a bit too much like a plan. Just
throw this out and begin your
own search.
Stay Download Campermate,
an app that’ll show you
campgrounds, dump stations,
petrol, public showers and
more. If you need a break
from vanlife, the chalets (and
massage studio) at top-ranked
Abel Tasman Lodge are a fiveminute
walk from the national
park. At SkyScape, near
Queenstown, each room has
the best kind of glass ceiling.
Eat Some people say
Fergburger, in Queenstown,
has the best burgers in the
world, but they’re likely the
most inventive: wild Fiordland
deer with Thai plum chutney,
New Zealand lamb with mint
jelly. Acclaimed Kika, in
Wanaka, tweaks tapas with
chili gel, avocado mousse and
cotton-like pork floss. The togo
staple in NZ is fish and
chips—both Akaroa Fish and
Chips, and Happy Chippie
(near Abel Tasman) are
perfectly greasy and newsprint
wrapped.
Drink The Marlborough region
is justly famous for wine—
Framingham and giant
Cloudy Bay are good bets out
of the 140-plus around here.
Smiths Craft Beer House, in
Queenstown, has a dozen New
Zealand brews on offer. For a
speakeasy vibe, OGB, housed
in the historic Old Government
Building in Christchurch, kills
it with their mixers. And
hopping the beer bars in
Nelson—hops central—can
easily take up a few days.
Guide All you.
Kika turns out reinterpreted tapas.
OGB in Christchurch is a swank
cocktail bar with an elegant
speakeasy vibe.
THE RED BULLETIN 83

Do it
G U I D E
GET FIT LIKE A PRO
“YOU HAVE TO BE
ON YOUR A-GAME”
Longtime Halo pro Michael
“Flamesword” Chaves shares how
he trains for esports success.
A self-described health and fitness
junkie, Michael “Flamesword” Chaves
won multiple championships as an
esports athlete before retiring from
professional play in 2016. His specialty is
first-person-shooter games, especially
Halo and Call of Duty, where quick
reflexes and mental focus are essential
for success. Just like any other sport,
gaming requires many hours of practice,
and Chaves still spends up to 10 hours in
front of his screen. The hours of stress
add up, and a health scare in his early 20s
led Chaves to rethink his approach. “I
should just train like an actual athlete,”
he recalls thinking. “If there is something
that’s optimal for basketball players,
there has to be something that’s optimal
for gamers.” Esports tournaments
alternate hours of downtime waiting for
matches with high-energy sessions at
the controller. He says his physical
fitness helps him recover from the
intensity of gaming and feel refreshed
when he sits back down to do it all again.
“After I began working out,
I immediately saw success
in my placings,” says
Chaves, who was a top Halo
pro from 2008 to 2016 and
coaches now.
84 THE RED BULLETIN

Fitness
MENTAL FOCUS
“Yoga brings
mental
fortitude.”
RECOVERY
“A foam roller is like
having a personal
massage therapist.”
“On Tuesdays, I do a yoga
form called Yin, which is a faster
stretching-release yoga style.
Thursdays, I do Kundalini, which is
more relaxed—more of a closing your
eyes and meditation type of yoga.
Then Saturdays or Sundays, I do
Bikram or a body-flow class. I think
yoga helps you remain in control of
your breathing and to be one with
yourself there in the moment.
I think that’s huge for gamers. No
matter who we are, no matter what
speed we’re at, nerves are a part
of everything we do. And you have to
be on your A-game at all times.”
“Your fitness involves a whole
system. It’s the working out, the
nutrition; it’s recovery—part of
which comes from sleep. I think a
foam roller or even a tennis ball is
great to have. After a long gaming
session, you can roll out your body
and hit your glutes, hamstrings and
the rest of your legs. It releases all
that tension. Most likely, your
shoulders are in an upper crossed
position from leaning forward. You
can utilize that foam roller for all
those things. I would prefer to have
a personal massage therapist, but
we have to deal with what we got.”
FITNESS
“Gamers need to
strengthen their
posture.”
NUTRITION
“I look at food as
gasoline to run
around all day.”
IAN COBLE/RED BULL CONTENT POOL JEN SEE
“My four yoga days are also
run days. For the most part,
I aim to run a mile each of those
days. Depending on what my
fitness goal are, I’m working out
three or four days each week
with weights. The goblet squat,
with a dumbbell or a kettlebell, is
an incredible technique for
gamers, who sit all day, or for
anyone with a desk job. It’s a squat
that helps you correct your
posture. Having the weight in front
of you, as opposed to on your back,
helps bring your chest up and
corrects your whole body.”
“The things we put in our body,
it’s like putting fuel in our car.
I like to eat fruit at the start of
the day. I have an omelet, with
mushrooms, spinach or kale. For
protein, it’s anything grass fed,
and I like plant-based protein
powders. Many of the carbs I take
in are starchy carbs, like sweet
potato, that last longer in the
body. And for sure, I drink lots of
water every day. If you stay
hydrated, you avoid body cramps
and headaches. Everything in
your body is running the way it
should be.”
“I MAKE A SMOOTHIE
EVERY DAY.”
“My go-to favorite right now
is almond milk with a half cup
of ice, half cup of cut-up
frozen avocado, half of a
banana, plant-based protein
powder and chocolate with
some peanut butter or
almond butter.”
THE RED BULLETIN 85

CALENDAR
August/September 2020
10
September
NFL KICKOFF
LIVE Questions
abound when it comes
to what spectator
sports will look like
this fall, but even if
stadiums are empty,
you can still watch the
Super Bowl champs
Kansas City Chiefs
take on the Houston
Texans on NBC.
nfl.com
14
August
BILL & TED FACE THE MUSIC
It’s been nearly 30 years since these most excellent time travelers graced the big screen, which
begs the question: Will anyone care that they’re back? But the love for this cult franchise still feels
strong, and with few new releases this summer, perhaps the timing couldn’t be better to head to
your closest drive-in theater for some popcorn therapy. Even acclaimed director Steven Soderbergh,
who saw an early cut, gives his stamp of approval. Party on, dudes! orionpictures.com
Available now
NORTH OF NIGHTFALL
Many exploits come to mind when
talking about the Arctic Circle;
mountain biking isn’t one of them. But
when four freeride legends headed to
uninhabited Axel Heiberg Island in the
Arctic Ocean, they were intent on
riding the ultimate rampage line in a
hostile landscape of volcanic cliffs,
glacial plateaus and endless daylight.
The risks were high—there’s only one
month when temperatures sit above
zero, and the nearest hospital is a 12-
hour plane ride away. A thrilling,
spectacular doc. redbull.com
20
September
EMMY
AWARDS
LIVE The show must
go on, and not even
a pandemic can keep
celebrities from
getting their awards.
As of press time,
nothing had been said
about whether the
statuettes would be
handed off in person
or simply announced.
Or will acceptance
speeches be delivered
in sweatpants over
Zoom? But in any case,
Jimmy Kimmel has
signed on to host,
whatever that entails.
emmys.com
86 THE RED BULLETIN

CALENDAR
August/September 2020
EBK.TV, BLAKE JORGENSON/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, WARNER BROS, GETTY IMAGES(2) NORA O’DONNELL
Available now
THE HISTORY
OF THE
PIT STOP
With F1 back in action,
we once again get to
marvel at that greatest
of engineering art
forms—the live,
supersonic pit stop.
As a perfect side order,
this film follows the
mavericks who took
what was once a
painfully slow pause
during a race and
transformed it into
a choreographed
exercise in precision
that, last year, saw
the Red Bull Racing
pit maestros service
Max Verstappen’s
F1 car in a world-record
1.82 seconds at the
Brazilian GP. Naturally,
he won it.
redbull.com
22
July
K2: THE
IMPOSSIBLE
DESCENT
In 2018, Polish ski
mountaineer Andrzej
Bargiel embarked on
a feat never before
achieved: to scale K2,
the world’s secondhighest
peak, then ski
back down. It’s an epic
tale, documented here
with the highest drone
footage ever filmed.
redbull.com
22
August
DC FANDOME
It’s been a tough summer for
moviegoers, with blockbusters like
Daniel Craig’s final Bond outing and
Top Gun 2 delayed till later this year
and beyond. But DC’s superheroes
are coming to the rescue. This 24-
hour virtual event will feature new
footage and live panels with the cast
and creators of films like Wonder
Woman 1984 (now set for release on
October 2), the Robert Pattinsonstarring
The Batman and the muchanticipated
“Zack Snyder cut” of
Justice League, which Warner Bros.
announced after fans voiced dismay
at the original version delivered by
Avengers director Joss Whedon.
Think of it as a virtual Comic-Con.
dccomics.com/dcfandome
31
August
U.S. OPEN
LIVE Pending
government approval,
which was still needed
as of press time,
players were planning
to gather at the USTA
Billie Jean King
National Tennis Center
in Queens for this
two-week tournament.
But it’s already been
announced that
spectators won’t be
present, and it’s
ultimately up to
athletes to decide if
they want to compete,
which puts global
players who have to
travel to the U.S. in a
particularly difficult
situation. Silver lining?
At least tennis isn’t
a contact sport.
usopen.org
THE RED BULLETIN 87

SIMPLE
GETAWAYS
These days, the best adventures don’t
require complicated planning or travel.
Words JOE LINDSEY
Danner’s Trail
2650 is grippy,
lightweight and
cushioned for your
next dayhiking
adventure.

G U I D E
LOCAL HIKES AND RUNS
DANNER TRAIL 2650
These don’t look much like old-school hiking
boots, which is a good thing. The running-shoelike
men’s and women’s Trail 2650s are perfect
for dayhikes, with a lightweight EVA foam
midsole for cushion paired with a TPU shank to
protect your feet from sharp rocks and provide
structural stability. The grippy outsole is at home
on all natural surfaces, and optional Gore-Tex
versions add all-weather protection. $150-180;
danner.com
ADIDAS TERREX TWO
ULTRA PARLEY
Adidas pairs its bouncy, durable Boost TPU
midsole with an upper made from recycled ocean
plastic to create a high-performance trail runner
for natural surfaces, available for men and
women. The aggressive Continental Grip tread
pattern bites on hard and soft terrain and sheds
mud easily. The Primeknit upper’s Jacquardstyle
construction adapts to your foot shape and
volume for comfort. $180; adidasoutdoor.com
FJALLRAVEN HIGH COAST
LITE TROUSERS
Don’t look for oddly placed cargo pockets or
dorky zip-off legs on these pants. Instead take in
the stretchy, quick-drying fabric that moves with
you; subtle ankle drawcords for bug protection;
and men’s and women’s specific trim, modern
fits suited for a hike, travel or casual work. The
mesh-lined pockets ventilate to keep you cool,
and a zippered thigh pocket offers a secure spot
for a phone or keys. $125; fjallraven.com
BLACK DIAMOND TRAIL ZIP 14
This pack is the definition of minimalist, with a
spartan profile that has everything you need and
nothing you don’t: 854 cubic inches of cargo
capacity, with smartly designed stash pockets
for things like valuables and a headlamp, plus
sleeves for trekking poles. The lightweight
ripstop nylon body is rugged but keeps total pack
weight below half a pound. It’s perfect for peak
bagging and other fast/light dayhikes and
adventures. $50; blackdiamondequipment.com
ALLTRAILS APP
It’s hard to find a more full-featured outdoor app.
With a global database of more than 100,000
trail maps for hiking, cycling and running, you
can search for difficulty, dog-friendliness or
ADA accessibility; read reviews; and check out
amenities. The Pro version adds offline maps,
weather and the ability to share your real-time
location with loved ones. Extra relevant right
now: Heatmaps let you avoid overcrowded spots.
Free ($30/year for Pro version); alltrails.com
BOSE FRAMES ALTO
Bring the tunes and enjoy the outdoors with
these cool audio shades. Tiny speakers in the
temples direct the beats at your ears and let in
outside sound, while remaining virtually silent to
anyone else. The one-button operation combines
with gestural control so you can adjust volume,
take calls, even summon virtual assistants.
Scratch-resistant polycarbonate lenses block
99 percent of all UV light. Want a softer, rounded
look? Try the Rondo instead. $200; bose.com
The heatmaps option on Alltrails allows you
to find trails that are uncrowded in real time.
THE RED BULLETIN 89

G U I D E
SUNDAY DRIVES AND PICNICS
YETI HOPPER FLIP 18
Why lug a heavy hardside cooler if you don’t need
to? This soft cooler is spacious enough for a
picnic for four, or up to 20 cans of your favorite
beverage, and its thick, closed-cell foam-rubber
insulation keeps things cold for hours. The
convenient shoulder-carry strap and lighter
weight (just 5.1 lbs empty) make it easy to haul
on foot—perfect for when you need to scramble
over a few dunes or up a grassy hillside to that
secluded lunch spot. $300; yeti.com
FILSON CHELAN SNACK TABLE
Picnics are supposed to be easy and casual, but
have you ever struggled to cut blocks of cheese
on a plate set on a blanket, or set down a drink on
uneven ground, only for it to fall over? Enter the
Chelan snack table. Its 11-inch height is perfect
for stable, ground-level eating and drinking at
the beach or a local park. Sturdy construction
and locking pins prevent wobbles or unexpected
collapse, and the oil-rubbed ash wood is
beautiful and durable. $165; filson.com
ZIPPO RUGGED LANTERN 350A
Stay out late with this compact camping lantern.
The 350-lumen output casts enough light to
read, eat or socialize by, and the lens and
reflector soften it for a warm, even glow. The
rubberized housing is shock-resistant and
waterproof, so it’ll easily survive a tumble off a
table or a sudden downpour. It features four
power levels, including a blinking SOS mode, and
runs between 6.5 to 65 hours (depending on
setting) on four AA batteries. $50; zippo.com
HOUDINI POWER AIR HOODIE
This light, cozy full-zip hoodie has the credentials
to become one of your trusted, versatile pieces
of wardrobe. It’s at home on a chilly morning at
the trailhead, or for post-hike beers on a brewery
patio. It doesn’t just look and feel good: The
Power Air microfiber fleece is Bluesign certified,
made from 54 percent recycled materials and is
designed to shed far less microplastic pollution
than other fleeces. Available in men’s and
women’s styles. $250; houdinisportswear.com
THERM-A-REST UNO CHAIR
You won’t find a more ingenious, space-efficient
folding chair design than the Uno, which unpacks
from a 2-inch-thick, foot-wide disc for easy setup
as a comfy camp chair. The storage disc doubles
as the base, offering stable footing on
all surfaces. With a minimalist design, the chair
can also convert into a small side table. The
durable aluminum frame and reinforced pole
pockets ensure you’ll get years of use. $90;
thermarest.com
FRONTRUNNER EASY-OUT 2M
AWNING
This awning unfolds from a roof-rack mount to
provide a spacious patch of protection from sun
or rain. Aluminum poles provide sturdy support
and adjustable height and angle, while gut ropes
offer stability in windy conditions. At only 28 lbs,
it’s easy to install or remove with the universal
rack mounts, but the rugged, PVC-coated cover
provides all-weather protection if you leave it on
your vehicle. $275; frontrunneroutfitters.com
The Power Air hoodie is made from Bluesigncertified
fleece, made using minimal chemicals.
90 THE RED BULLETIN

The Frontrunner
Easy-Out 2M
Awning will give
you 34 square
feet of protection
from sun or rain.

Why not buy
boardshorts that
can perform in
heavy water and
look good when
doing light work?

G U I D E
BEACH TIME
O’NEILL HYPERFREAK HYDRO
WANDERER BOARDSHORTS
Whether paddling out to the lineup or pedaling
down to the café, these comfy boardshorts are
versatile and stylish, with an at-the-knee fit that’s
both casual and classic. The fast-drying fabric is
made from recycled polyester with 11 percent
elastane, so it moves with you when working out.
The no-tie closure eliminates annoying chafing,
and a zipper pocket provides secure storage for
your keys or phone. $59.50; oneill.com
NATIVE EYEWEAR ASHDOWN
Cut annoying sun glare off water with Native’s
ophthalmic-grade polycarbonate lenses, which
feature a durable polarization film that boosts
contrast and clarity in harsh sun. You also get
100 percent UV protection and a scratch- and oilresistant
coating, in an eco-friendly bioplastic
frame. The moderate sweep protects your eyes
from wind and debris but isn’t too sporty to work
as casual wear. Choose from seven frame color/
lens combos. $59-$79; nativeeyewear.com
CARVER SMALL BLOCK RACK
Don’t fight for car parking at the break. Carver’s
durable surfboard racks mount easily to bikes
and mopeds. The U.S.-made tubular steel arms
and machined aluminum clamps attach quickly
and provide sturdy support for most sizes and
styles of surfboard and won’t interfere with
pedaling. A $20 SUP arm option fits thicker
stand-up paddleboards. Coated arm cradles
protect board surfaces from abrasion and other
damage. $149; carverracks.com
SKINNIES CONQUER SUNGEL
Half a Benjamin is a lot to pay for sunscreen but
hear us out: This sport sungel uses physical and
chemical sunscreens to offer SPF50+ protection
with four hours of water resistance—double that
of most waterproof sunscreens. And since
there’s no water in the formula, you need just a
pea-size blob to cover your face. What’s more,
it’s reef-safe to Hawaiian sunscreen standards
and includes no parabens or other harmful
chemicals. $50 (3.4 oz tube); gotskinnies.com
HYDRO FLASK 15L SOFT
COOLER PACK
If you want to hit the beach, but bring all your
food and drinks from home, this backpack cooler
fits the essentials in its roomy interior. The foodgrade,
BPA-free liner encases closed-cell
insulation that keeps contents cool all day. The
clamshell lid offers easy access, and a watertight
YKK zipper to contain spills. It has several
accessory pockets and a mesh exterior pocket
that holds a water bottle. $175; hydroflask.com
PATAGONIA TROPIC
COMFORT HOODIE
Grab this sheer pullover for any outing and you’ll
have a stylish layer for protection from sun, wind
or chill. The recycled polyester dries fast and
provides UPF50+ protection. It’s treated with
HeiQ Fresh odor control to keep funk at bay, and
the generously cut hood fits over a cap. At 8.3 oz,
it’s easy to throw in a bag or pocket if you’re
cruising to the boardwalk or halfway around the
world. $59-$69; patagonia.com
A pea-size blob of Skinnies covers your whole
face and gives four hours of water resistance.
THE RED BULLETIN 93

G U I D E
BACKYARD FUN AND GAMES
LARGE BIG GREEN EGG KIT
Ask an Egg fan and they’ll tell you these
distinctive, squat cookers are far more versatile
than conventional gas or charcoal grills. The
large size will roast a whole turkey, bake a pizza
or smoke low and slow for great BBQ flavor. The
kamado-style ceramic shell heats quickly and
efficiently, while the adjustable airflow allows
precise temperature control for perfect grilling.
Kit includes grill, stand, lump charcoal and
several accessories. $1,299; biggreenegg.com
YARD GAMES KUBB PREMIUM SET
Bored with cornhole? Check out Kubb (say
koob), an ancient Swedish lawn game also
known as Viking chess. Throw the dowels to
knock down your opponent’s knights, then
topple the king for the win. The durable
hardwood pieces stand up to knocks and nicks,
and their heft provides stability on grass, sand
and even snow that lesser plastic sets won’t.
The included carrying case is ideal for meeting
friends in the park. $50; yardgames.com
OUTDOOR TECH TURTLE SHELL 3.0
Get the party started with this waterproof
wireless workhorse of a speaker. The domed
design cranks out 360-degree sound with
chunky bass that is far meatier than its compact
size suggests. The 3,600mAh battery provides
up to 20 hours of beats on a single charge, and
wireless daisy-chain pairing means you can link
multiple Shells together, up to 15 feet apart and
45 feet from the source. Available in seven
colors. $110-$131; outdoortechnology.com
SOLO STOVE BONFIRE
Campfires right now are not such a hot idea. But
you can bring the experience home with this fire
pit. The ventilated design burns hot and clean, so
you don’t smell all smoky afterward. The
20-pound unit is portable enough for overnights
you might make when parks and campgrounds
reopen, but the durable, all-weather stainless
construction also fits inside fire pits, so it’s
perfect for backyard s’mores and cool summer
nights on the patio. $350; solostove.com
CELESTRON STARSENSE
EXPLORER DX 130AZ
When night falls, turn your eyes skyward with
this powerful telescope designed for novice
stargazers. Celestron’s smartphone app
automatically lists viewable objects in your night
sky; just put your phone in the mount and follow
onscreen arrows to aim the scope until the
bull’s-eye turns green. The 130 mm lens serves
up clear, sharp images even in brighter urban
settings. $400; celestron.com
EPSON EF-100 MINI-LASER
STREAMING PROJECTOR
Make your own outdoor movie night with this
compact projector. Microlaser diode tech
produces a vivid, 1,280HD-sharp widescreen
picture on screens up to 150 inches wide. The
2,000-lumen output results in a bright picture
even before the sun has set. Built-in Android TV
app streaming and Bluetooth wireless speaker
support is perfect for backyard shows or an
indoor home theater. $1,000; epson.com
With Epson’s new streaming projector, you can
watch movies on a huge screen—before sunset.
94 THE RED BULLETIN

Compact, waterproof
and ready to rock,
the Turtle Shell 3.0
will amp up your next
backyard party.

GLOBAL TEAM
THE RED
BULLETIN
WORLDWIDE
The Red Bulletin
is published
in six countries. The
cover of this month’s
German edition features
Austrian cyclist Fabio
Wibmer, who’s known
for his daredevil stunts
on two wheels.
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 above.
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).
Editor-in-Chief
Alexander Macheck
Deputy Editor-in-Chief
Andreas Rottenschlager
Creative Director
Erik Turek
Art Directors
Kasimir Reimann (deputy CD),
Miles English
Head of Photo
Eva Kerschbaum
Deputy Head of Photo
Marion Batty
Photo Director
Rudi Übelhör
Production Editor
Marion Lukas-Wildmann
Managing Editor
Ulrich Corazza
Copy Chief
Andreas Wollinger
Design
Marion Bernert-Thomann, Martina de Carvalho-
Hutter, Kevin Goll, Carita Najewitz
Photo Editors
Susie Forman, Ellen Haas, Tahira Mirza
General Manager & Publisher
Andreas Kornhofer
Managing Director
Stefan Ebner
Head of Media Sales & Partnerships
Lukas Scharmbacher
Publishing Management Sara Varming (manager),
Ivona Glibusic, Bernhard Schmied, Melissa Stutz
B2B Marketing & Communication
Katrin Sigl (manager), Alexandra Ita,
Teresa Kronreif, Stefan Portenkirchner
Head of Creative Markus Kietreiber
Co-Publishing Susanne Degn-Pfleger & Elisabeth
Staber (manager), Mathias Blaha, Raffael Fritz,
Thomas Hammerschmied, Marlene Hinterleitner,
Valentina Pierer, Mariella Reithoffer, Verena
Schörkhuber, Sara Wonka, Julia Bianca Zmek,
Edith Zöchling-Marchart
Commercial Design Peter Knehtl (manager),
Sasha Bunch, Simone Fischer, Martina Maier,
Julia Schinzel, Florian Solly
Advertising Placement
Manuela Brandstätter, Monika Spitaler
Head of Production Veronika Felder
Production Friedrich Indich, Walter O. Sádaba,
Sabine Wessig
Repro Clemens Ragotzky (manager),
Claudia Heis, Nenad Isailovi c, ̀
Sandra Maiko Krutz, Josef Mühlbacher
MIT Michael Thaler, Christoph Kocsisek
Operations Melanie Grasserbauer,
Alexander Peham, Yvonne Tremmel
Assistant to General Management
Patricia Höreth
Subscriptions and Distribution
Peter Schiffer (manager), Nicole Glaser
(distribution), Yoldaş Yarar (subscriptions)
Global Editorial Office
Heinrich-Collin-Straße 1, A-1140 Vienna
Tel: +43 1 90221 28800,
Fax: +43 1 90221 28809
redbulletin.com
Red Bull Media House GmbH
Oberst-Lepperdinger-Straße 11-15,
A-5071 Wals bei Salzburg, FN 297115i,
Landesgericht Salzburg, ATU63611700
Directors
Dietrich Mateschitz, Dietmar Otti,
Christopher Reindl, Marcus Weber
THE RED BULLETIN USA, Vol 10
issue 1, ISSN 2308-586X
is published monthly except for four
combined issues January/February,
June/July, August/September
and October/November 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
Director of Publishing
Cheryl Angelheart
Marketing & Communications
Manager
Laureen O’Brien
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
US 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 US and
US 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
Christian Eberle-Abasolo
Proofreaders
Hans Fleißner (manager),
Petra Hannert, Monika Hasleder,
Billy Kirnbauer-Walek
Publishing Management
Bernhard Schmied
Sales Management
Alfred Vrej Minassian (manager),
Thomas Hutterer, Stefanie Krallinger
anzeigen@at.redbulletin.com
THE RED BULLETIN
France, ISSN 2225-4722
Editor
Pierre-Henri Camy
Country Coordinator
Christine Vitel
Country Project Management
Alessandra Ballabeni
THE RED BULLETIN
Germany, ISSN 2079-4258
Editor
David Mayer
Country Project Management
Natascha Djodat
Advertising Sales
Matej Anusic,
matej.anusic@redbull.com
Thomas Keihl,
thomas.keihl@redbull.com
Martin Riedel,
martin.riedel@redbull.com
THE RED BULLETIN
Switzerland, ISSN 2308-5886
Editor
Wolfgang Wieser
Country Project Management
Meike Koch
Advertising Sales
Marcel Bannwart (D-CH),
marcel.bannwart@redbull.com
Christian Bürgi (W-CH),
christian.buergi@redbull.com
THE RED BULLETIN
United Kingdom, ISSN 2308-5894
Editor
Ruth McLeod
Associate Editor
Tom Guise
Culture Editor
Florian Obkircher
Chief Sub-Editor
Davydd Chong
Publishing Manager
Ollie Stretton
Advertising Sales
Mark Bishop,
mark.bishop@redbull.com
Fabienne Peters,
fabienne.peters@redbull.com
96 THE RED BULLETIN

SUBSCRIBE NOW!
10 issues for $12
getredbulletin.com
THE RED BULLETIN
BEYOND THE ORDINARY

Action highlight
Floating point
For this dramatic stunt, Estonian slackliner Jaan Roose chose an atmospheric
setting—Seli Raba (or the rather less attractive Seli Bog when translated into
English) in the northern part of his country. Needless to say, the three-time world
champion and sometime Hollywood stuntman landed the trick perfectly.
The next
issue of
THE RED BULLETIN
is out on
September 22.
JAANUS REE/RED BULL CONTENT POOL
98 THE RED BULLETIN

ALPHATAURI.COM

Copyright © 2020 MNA, Inc. All rights reserved.
THE TRACK DOESN’T
MAKE ITSELF FAMOUS.
WHAT ARE YOU BUILDING FOR?
150 years of engineering progress. Check it out at www.BFGoodrichTires.com/150years .