It’d been six years since John rode and photographed the Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship‘s Lost and Found gravel race. He first covered the event in 2018 as part of the Triple Crown race series and then again in 2019. A lot has changed in the Lost Sierra since his last visit, so let’s check out an action-packed gallery, shot from his bicycle!

Recreation as a Resource

Nestled in the Sierra, Portola is a place you might pass through en route to a favorite camping spot or your secret fishing spot. It’s a small city nestled in the Sierra of California. In 2014, Chris McGovern – a framebuilder and cycling coach – decided to throw an event unlike anything else at the time. A gravel race that highlighted the endless gravel roads surrounding Lake Davis in the Plumas National Forest.

The Lost Sierra, as it’s called, is full of small towns like Portola, and in 2014, these small outposts were surviving on the dregs of a slowing lumber industry. Chris’ pitch to the City of Portola and surrounding communities was that “recreation is a resource,” primed to benefit all who venture into the Sierra. After a successful first event, he handed off the event to longtime Downieville Classic showrunners, the Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship, a 501 (c) (3) non-profit.

SBTS is responsible for maintaining hundreds of miles of singletrack across the Lost Sierra. They constantly cut new trails and maintain heritage trails through volunteer efforts, working hand in hand with the Forest Service.

Lost and Found

Lost and Found supports Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship’s Connected Communities project, with the ultimate goal of connecting 15 mountain communities to promote economic prosperity through recreation. Since 2003, the SBTS has built 216 miles of singletrack, maintained 2,869 miles of existing trail, and has three pro-level trail crews doing the work in 2025.

In 2025, Lost and Found became part of the Gravel Earth Series, a global gravel series with a prize purse of nearly $40,000 and includes 25 events in 15 countries. Each of the 2025 routes are new, offering 40, 64, and 96-mile options.

While there are people, including pros, who come to the weekend to race, plenty are out there enjoying the high Sierra vistas and camaraderie. The camping is exquisite, and festival vibes are welcoming.

Eleven years after the first Lost and Found, it is darling gravel.

Check out my Meriwether Ponderosa setup here…

Photographing Lost and Found by Bicycle

The last time I took part in this event was in 2019. My method of choice for photographing Lost and Found is to throw my camera gear in a bag and take off with the Pro Men category, then wait for the Pro Women, and finally the 96-mile “Full Bull” riders. I’ll hang on as long as I can, and usually, shortly after the first aid station, the leaders of the 64-mile “Mid Bull” course would pass me.

When a view, a patch of light, or a curve in the road strikes me as beautiful or interesting, I’ll jump off the bike, fire off a few shots, toss the camera back in the bag, and pedal on. Sometimes I strike gold and happen to be in the right place at the right time, like the father and son on the Rivendell Hubbuhubbuh tandem or the dude rocking the FIXED GEAR.

Rinse and repeat across a 7-hour day in the sun and 2,000 photos later, I’ll cull my selection to the above gallery.

This is back-breaking work. But it comes from a place of love. Living 1,200 miles away from the Lost Sierra means I don’t attend SBTS events as often as I’d like. So this is my volunteer effort to support the cause: to stoke people’s interest and help build attendance. But mainly to showcase these beautiful expanses of Public Lands that are free for everyone to recreate on!

Reportage: Fire and Life

Last Saturday morning was going splendidly. Reconnecting with the forest, seeing familiar faces, and soaking in the grandeur of the Sierra, the miles seemingly flew by. As I climbed up Old House Creek Road and turned onto USFS 25N35, I was utterly unprepared for the Dixie Fire’s devastation.

On July 13th, 2021, faulty fuses in PGE’s high voltage lines ignited what would become the largest fire in California history. It burned 963,309 acres and, in its conflagration, forever altered many of the stunning vistas in the region.

I rounded a corner, looking forward to one of my favorite views to photograph, and it hit me. Even writing this now, it’s hard to hold back tears. The massive expanse of the Dixie was torpefying to see. It knocked the wind out of me. Energy evicted my legs, I stopped pedaling, found a spot to sit, and processed the surrounding environment. Saddening.

Unsure of what to make of it, I rested there for 10 minutes, waiting for riders to come down the ridge as my eyes began to well with tears. Yet through the matchstick vistas, a blanket of beautiful undergrowth covered the steep and unforgiving terrain. Sierra lupine, Snow Plant, Mule Ears, Coyote mint, Sulfur buckwheat, and Quincy lupine offered swathes of color, painted by the cycle of life in mountainous regions: fire. Fire brought about new growth, and the fields of wildflowers were a glorious dichotomy to the charred trees.

Dusted

Climb after climb, chunderous cachophonies, silty washouts, rocky doubletrack, and close calls abound. Flying downhill, catching quick vignettes of riders with mechanicals. A broken wheel, snapped chain, slipped bars. Medics crowded around someone at the base of a pine tree, applying pressure to a chin wound. Checking in as I whipped down the trail, glissading through moon dust. “Everything ok?” “We’re good!” Onward.

Volunteers are the saviors, and the aid stations, run by locals or those mutually invested, are the oasis for worn and weary travelers. A Scout troop, WTB, PAUL, Patagonia, and others were there with cold cans of Coke, sweet and savory delights, and water. Stopping by WTB to see the crew is a requisite. Sorry for missing the PAUL team, I was eager to get back to the finish to photograph riders.

Dude, you won me over. Leviathan shirt, Riv Homer… WOW

Rolling back into Portola, I couldn’t help but think about how Lost and Found is the darling of gravel. The people who put it on, the host City of Portola, the vistas, the mountains, the flowers. Everything washed over me. Even through the Dixie Fire’s path of destruction, life is springing forth. While it might take a few generations to restore it to its previous splendor, the land’s scars are becoming its character.

Poring through the photos, it was hard to cull to a digestible length. “Are 200 photos too many? Is 150 too few?” How can you capture an event and inspire people to make the journey if you can’t fully submerge them in some Plumas dust? These post-race portraits are always a fav of mine at an SBTS event.

Darling Gravel

Look, I don’t race. Sorry, Miguel! My value for events like this lies in my documentation of them. Being able to still ride challenging routes like this with a camera in tow comes from a place of love and commitment. Commitment to showcase the hard work of trail crews like the Sierra Buttes Trail Stewardship. And document the wonderful people who make Lost and Found such a memorable event.

Thank you to everyone. To all who said hello, patronized local shops, waved to other riders, said hello to locals, and paid for the event’s registration. Your support makes these weekends possible.

This was Miguel’s first Lost and Found, so expect a video recap of the event from him shortly!

Check out more at Lost and Found. See you at Grinduro!

If you’d like these photos for personal use, they’re all (and more) uploaded to The Radavist Dropbox.