Until now, if you you had asked me what the hot new cycling trend is going to be after this whole gravel thing cools down, I probably would have said road riding was going to make a comeback or something like that. But boy would I have been wrong, because it’s now clear that cargo bike elk hunting is the new gravel:
Before I go on, I should mention that I have a complicated relationship with the above website, which precedes even its establishment as the website it currently is and goes all the way back to when it was just a New York City-based fixed-gear blog:
Holy crap, that was almost 18 years ago! Where does the time go?!?
Same place as my hair, probably…and my relevance.
Anyway, what makes this relationship so complicated is that since the very beginning the entire Watsonian oeuvre and its signature brand of cool-adjacent hyper-nerdery has been the very embodiment of everything I exist to make fun of–and yet ironically for that very reason I have always felt like I should try to avoid doing so. Back when my blog was popular it simply wouldn’t have been sporting, and now that I’m a total has-been it just makes me come off like even more of an insecure loser than I already am.
However, I am nothing if not a student of cycling trends, and the fact that we’re now teetering on the cusp of a cargo bike elk hunting boom is simply too great of a cultural shift for me not to address.
So am I surprised? Sure. But in retrospect, I suppose I should have seen it coming, as the 21st century has been characterized by a clear urban-to-rural progression when it comes to cycling trends. Fixies begat cyclocross which begat gravel which begat bikepacking… In 2007, the signature trendy cycling move was the Elephant Trunk Skid:
And now it’s the Jesus Carry:
First it was about pretending to be messengers, and now it’s about pretending to be survivalists. So now that the search for authenticity has taken them deep into the wilderness, it was only a matter of time before these people started killing stuff. After all, when are no neighborhoods left to gentrify, you’ve got to gentrify the wilderness, and the hunt.
Of course, the history of riding bikes and dispensing with animals is long intertwined, from the dog-shooting dandies of yesteryear…
…to the e-biking sportsmen of today:
To be clear, I have no issue whatsoever with hunting, and as someone who often passes through the suburbs on my bicycle I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regularly fantasize about shooting dogs, as well as their owners. However, I don’t know if I’m prepared for the sheer sense of self-importance and moral superiority that is sure to characterize the post-gravel bicycle hunting scene. (Sorry, make that the post-gravel bicycle hunting space.) Consider this, which we’ll soon look back upon as the prototypical ride/hunt report, and which starts out with a trigger warning:
Disclaimer: This goes without saying, but I will be discussing hunting and that includes field dressing an animal and packing it out. This story and gallery contain photos that depict this process in graphic detail. I don’t expect everyone to agree with my points I make here, and to be honest, I might not have agreed with my current feelings a few years ago. All I ask is that if this isn’t for you, be mindful of nuance in conversation. My intent here is to share my experience and offer an outsider’s perspective. If this ain’t for you, there is no harm in not reading this piece. Thanks for understanding.
Sure, it’s shocking now, but in six months the same people who can hardly look at it today will be leaving comments like, “Which skinning knife is that?”
Then there’s the kill–sorry, the “harvest,” we’re not supposed to call anything what it actually is anymore–which is a profoundly cinematic moment, and which is not so much gruesome as it is hilarious:
Touching its fur, feeling it for the first time, I was moved to the point of collapsing to my knees. My face welled, and tears stung my windburned face. This was a profound experience. Kyle allowed for some time. Kim put a wad of grass in its mouth for its last meal. We all honored him.
When I die, please stuff a wad of grass in my mouth for my last meal, too. And if it’s not too much trouble, could you manipulate my jaw so that I appear to be chewing? And if at all possible, do your very best to have a windburned face, it’s just more poignant that way.
By the way, I know nothing about hunting, so I defer to the sportspeople among you…like, is that a thing, to feed the game a last meal after it’s dead? Should I, as a responsible consumer, ask if my own food was dignified in this manner prior to packaging? If I don’t do it will the animal’s spirit haunt me? And in the event I’m served something with the head still on, such as a fish, should I attempt to feed it before eating it just to be safe?
And what are you left with after you’ve killed shot harvested an elk? A greater appreciation for nature? A more profound understanding of conservation? A windburned face full of tears? Sure, all that stuff. But mostly you’re left with meat. Lots and lots of meat:
This hunt shifted my view on conservation and sustainable meat, with a consciousness tuned for reflection. I don’t know what role hunting will have in my life, or if I’ll ever partake in another elk hunt. All I know is that Cari and I will have over 200 pounds of elk in the freezer. Some of which will go to the friends who helped out. I’d also like to donate some to the community in need this holiday season. But the takeaway is that the two of us will have enough protein to last us over two years: steaks, ground elk, and sausages for lasagne, stews, tacos, and burgers. Lean, healthy meat, locally harvested.
Good grief. Didn’t the wilderness have anything smaller? It seems to me that shooting an elk is basically the equivalent of a single childless person shopping at Costco.
I’d imagine that after awhile when you keep gifting people elk every time you see them they stop inviting you over.
Frankly, I’m not sure the cycling world is prepared for the bumper crop of elk meat it’s about to receive when more and more people start cargo-harvesting large mammals, or if it’s even capable of consuming it all. Most of all, I’d certainly avoid drafting anybody at gravel races. They’ve probably been fueling with two year-old elk meat.