Mountain Flyer is Keepin' It Real

MTB Journalism Needs This Jolt/You Wanna Read This

Sit back. Settle in. Long-time founder and publisher, Brian Riepe, of Mountain Flyer, one of the premiere mountain biking publications, has something to say about the current state of the mountain bike industry and journalism. I could not agree more, having had this kind of conversation over more recent years.

Hell yeah, Brian! Much success to you with MF 3.0!

(Paseando MTB readers — What is below is a letter Brian sent out to subscribers this morning. He has given me permission to share it with you. Read his words and chew on ‘em a bit. Then go to Mountain Flyer and subscribe. Support independent journalism. Print is NOT dead, and yes, I’m very aware that you’re reading this on a screen!)

Mountain Flyer subscription sign-up here: https://www.mountainflyermagazine.com/view.php/start-new-subscription.html

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Thumbin’ It: A Hitchhiker’s Guide to publishing Mountain Flyer

Dear Mountain Flyer subscriber,

You’ve probably noticed that it’s been a while since issue 79 landed in your mailbox and you’re likely wondering what’s going on. I want to assure you there will be an issue coming soon. It will be different from what you’re used to and it will be great. Why the gap in our publishing schedule? Being a storyteller at heart, the best way I can explain it all is to share one. It’s a story that starts near the end, but like all good endings, it’s really a new beginning. My story starts on the side of the road….

I don’t like asking for favors and at face value, hitchhiking is just that. It’s a form of begging. But in some cases, I tell myself, it’s different. After all, Kerouac was a hitchhiker. At the same time, he was an artist, a poet, a folk hero and a legend. He wasn’t panhandling, he was seeking adventure. So, there I was on the Salida side of Colorado Highway 50 with my bike pointed at the oncoming traffic. Wearing my helmet, pads, and a friendly smile, I proudly stuck out my thumb.

It was a cold, wet, overcast day in late June. I had some business to attend to over Monarch Pass and, as always, I brought my bike along. The choice ride from Salida on a wet day is a quick shuttle lap on the Crest Trail to descend the boney fall-line of Green’s Creek back to the valley floor. Few mountain bikers pedal the 18 miles from Poncha Springs to the 11,312-foot summit of the pass to access the Crest Trail, so I expected a steady stream of sympathetic shuttle drivers.

Besides, I wasn’t just any hitchhiker; I was a fellow mountain biker asking my people to share a lift to the top. I was one of them. Hell, I even had post-ride beer stashed in the creek I’d be willing to share at the end of the lap. But to my grave disappointment, truckload after truckload, pickup trucks and decked out sprinter vans loaded with bikes passed me by without so much as a sideways glance.

Well, dang! I thought, if this isn’t just the perfect metaphor for the current relationship between the bike media and the bike industry. For over a decade now, aside from a few staunch supporters (thank you!), the disjointed community we refer to as “the bike industry” has left us on the proverbial side of the road, asking for a ride as they rip by in shiny red sprinter vans, off to produce the next shred edit in a faraway land. Who can blame them really? These are unprecedented times and in the endless quest to sell you more stuff, budding young marketing associates tasked with the soul-crushing job of bringing you daily content just don’t have the time, budget or directive to develop a print campaign. Google and Meta give them what they really want (the things we won’t give them, like sponsored content) so that’s where the money flows.

I won’t bore you with a deep analysis of what’s going on, but I do know that you, our readers, are sophisticated enough to understand what has changed. Some will tell you print is dead, but we know different. Print isn’t dead, but its advertising is on life support and the prognosis is bad. But for fans of honest, independent journalism, original writing, and large format photography, there is no better format than print.

As dedicated, life-long journalists, we’ve always known who our real customer is. We make Mountain Flyer for you, not the advertisers. And we want nothing more than to keep providing you with a high-quality format for bespoke photography, stories and inspiration. It’s time we stopped waiting for advertisers to give us a lift. In the aftermath of the Covid boom bust cycle, it’s apparent they can barely take care of themselves. That was the final nail in the coffin for print advertising support. It’s not as if we’ve ever pandered to the advertisers, rather we’ve just wasted a disproportionate amount of time selling ads, worrying about selling ads, and selling fewer and fewer ads. We’d rather spend that time curating the best stories and photography. 

Back on the highway, after 30 minutes of smiling and sticking my thumb in the air and just when I started thinking I should give up, a guy in a 1^st generation Toyota Tundra (the good years) with a lumber rack and bike hanging over the tailgate pulled over to give me a lift. Within 5 minutes I learned not only did David the asbestos inspector from Divide, Colorado, share my enthusiasm for old Toyota trucks, he was a Mountain Flyer subscriber and even had his picture published in an issue nearly 15 years ago. It came as no real surprise that of all the cars on the road that day, it was a subscriber that had my back.

By now, you can probably guess where this story is going. This fall, we’ll be launching Mountain Flyer 3.0. Without as many subsidies from advertisers, Mountain Flyer will rely on subscription revenue to pay the bills. As subscribers you’ll be asked to pay a per-issue rate that reflects the true cost of producing a premium magazine, which it turns out is not cheap. But the good news is that you, subscribers and members of our community, will be our sole focus. You are the customer. In addition, Mountain Flyer will only be available to subscribers (newsstands are notoriously wasteful as unsold copies go in the dumpster) so we will only print what we need.

A subscriber-supported publishing model comes with few drawbacks and a long list of benefits. Many of them have to do with the business model and won’t be things you’ll notice. But you will notice the difference in the final product. Over the past several months our talented design and editorial team have been working hard to craft a new look and format for Mountain Flyer. We’ve always taken pride in the quality of our product, but the new Mountain Flyer will be more of everything we know you want.

As a bi-annual publication, each 150-page (or more) issue will be printed on heavy 9-inch x 12-inch paper stock. Inside you’ll find generously designed features rich with photography, thoughtfully curated writing, and insightful information on the latest technologies in our sport. There will be more words, more photos and more community. One thing you won’t see is the sort of undisclosed paid content and other bullshit some publishers are passing off as journalism.

Since we announced the new concept to sponsors early this year, we’ve had an outpouring of support from our best historical supporters: brands such as Shimano, Yeti Cycles, Osprey, and Abus who we feel share our core values, recognize the benefits of untethered journalistic freedom and have shown selfless dedication to supporting our community of riders, readers, and contributors. When you receive Issue #80—our 20^th anniversary edition—this coming November, I’m confident you’ll be proud to be part of our community. You can be the judge when you receive the fall issue later this year, and if you want something else, tell us, we’ll be listening.

When David from Divide dropped me at the top of Monarch Pass, the summit was shrouded in fog and a cool mist tickled my face as I stepped out of the truck. We fist bumped, exchanged well wishes and went our separate ways (he was continuing on to Telluride for work). Considering the weather, I didn’t waste any time getting moving and attacked the first few climbs with a sense of urgency (the high exposed ridge of the Crest Trail is not a place you want to be during a storm). After 40 minutes of riding through fog and sunshine, I reached the trailhead for Green’s Creek, checked my tire pressure, chatted with another group of riders, and dropped-in for the 10 mile, wet, rooty decent back to my truck. There’s no need to describe the feeling, you know it well. If you haven’t ridden Greens Creek, put it on your list. And if you’re shuttling solo, don’t be afraid to hitch a ride, our community will come through.

In the right situation, I don’t mind hitchhiking. I like meeting people and I like the sense of community. I also like picking up hitchhikers. As we move forward to the next generation of Mountain Flyer and diminish our reliance on advertisers, I’m looking forward taking the driver’s seat. At one time, our masthead tag line was “we’ll take you there”. We changed it to “The Mountain Bike Journal” because it better describes the magazine, but as the publisher I still live by that old slogan. We’re here to take you for a ride.

We appreciate your patience,

Brian Riepe, Founder and Publisher

In the coming months, we’ll have more information on updated membership rates.