This April, Two Bikes Chattanooga rang in their first birthday with a two-day celebration of the non-competitive side of cycling, featuring two of our favorite activities: bikes and camping. They’re calling it Bike Camp. Read on for photos and words from Kody Dahl and video by Cameron Asa…

It’s springtime in Tennessee. The river bottoms and hollers are in bloom, washed in white, pink, and gold. The old Appalachian hills and rocky fields are the most saturated green you’ve seen in your life, and the birdsong can verge on deafening. It’s a time that makes growth and new things feel so close, so possible; even if you’re a little bit down, maybe all you have to do is wait a couple of days.

You’re (if you, hypothetically, happened to be attending Bike Camp) on your favorite cruising bike, or townie, or gravel rig, or tourer, and you and a few friends ride out of the small city of Chattanooga, climb a gravel double-track up and over the shoulder of Lookout Mountain, and coast a couple miles down into the sun-dappled woods of Lookout Valley on the other side. You’re laughing. It’s verdant, Edenic, over-the-top. It looks like a pharmaceutical commercial—you know, the ones full of smiling, happy people who’ve just been set free to recreate at golden hour somewhere.

People are filtering in by bike, van, and the occasional car as you check in and receive your requisite enamel mug, coffee, and directions. The feel is somewhere between “Appalachian folk school” and “alt-bike summer camp”; signs for camping, coffee, bike show, and workshops are either hand-painted or collaged together from laser-jet prints. There are dozens of tents already going up in a field bounded by a split-rail fence, clusters of people laughing and chatting, a vendor village pulling your interest as you try to set up camp, several glittering rows of show bikes, and throughout, what you can only describe as the feeling of that one song about easy Sunday mornings. You do the only thing you should do: let out a deep, contented sigh, and settle in.

Hypotheticals aside, the location is indisputably part of the magic. Nestled into the northwestern shoulder of the hundred-plus-mile-long Lookout Mountain, between the ridge and the creek, is a retreat from the moderate bustle of the city of Chattanooga called Reflection Riding. Under some form of conservation since 1956, today it’s 317 acres of nature preserve, arboretum, botanical gardens, trails, and native flora and fauna. It’s a peaceful Appalachian paradise, punctuated occasionally by the voices of the endangered native red wolves, answering the whistle of a train across the valley. Bike Camp HQ is in a field at the center of it all; one horizon is woods, the other a rugged sandstone ridgeline almost two thousand feet overhead. It benefits from what one of the workshop hosts would call “a good sense of enclosure”; maybe another way to say it is “cozy”.

Bike Camp is a festival hosted by another source of magic: the team at Two Bikes Chattanooga, a nonprofit community bike shop that, among other things, diverts bikes and bike parts from the waste stream, builds rad bikes, donates a bike to someone in need for every bike they sell, and provides a community bike stand (and encouragement) free of charge. Mitchell Connell founded this second version of Two Bikes in Chattanooga last April (it’s a separate nonprofit from the original Knoxville entity, for the sake of the resilience and agility of both), and has been building community at a meteoric pace for a year now.

The first day of Bike Camp is abundant with programming; it’s honestly tricky to make it to everything you might be interested in, and maybe that’s part of the point. The workshop schedule opens with Abel Zhun from Chattanooga’s own Velo Coffee Roasters giving instructions on the perfect camp pour-over; carries forward into a workshop on “anarchist calisthenics” and good vandalism from Jon Jon Wesolowski of the Chattanooga Urbanists’ Society, takes a break for lunch from a killer local Korean food truck, and then dives right back in. Of course, you could be wandering through the bike show, chatting and shopping with all the Southeastern vendors and makers, emptying (or more realistically, further filling) your parts bin at the Swap Meet, escaping the sun for a woodland paddle in a canoe, or exploring the beautiful double-track that weaves its way around the property, along the creek, through the woods, and up the mountain itself.

But then, you might miss a beautiful workshop from Tyler Rogers on traditional, human-powered Appalachian furniture-making, featuring a demo of crafting a red oak chair leg and a chance to make your own spoons. Or a native plant walk with Lynne Welden – a masterclass in learning to identify the creeping woodland phlox, the verge, and the native irises blooming in every direction. Or a chance to vote in the beautiful and eclectic inaugural Bike Camp Bike Show; while the criteria were more vibes than criteria, the vibes were very good. As Mitchell noted during the extremely official awards ceremony, “We like really cool bikes that have had the shit beat out of them.” The winners could be seen riding their show bikes all day and into the next, and each of them took home a shiny new motocross trophy to prove it.

And, friends, we’re not even at dinner yet. 200 people at one table? Check. Amazing local food? Also check. All of that along the edge of a meadow, as golden hour poured into this little Tennessee valley.

If you were particularly fortunate, hypothetically, and found yourself living a life that included this edition of Bike Camp, you might also have been thinking at this point, was that Lael Wilcox, just a few people down from me at dinner? And her wife, award-winning director Rugile “Rue” Kaladyte? Is that also an inflatable projector screen, checked out like a book from the Chattanooga Public Library? Am I overwhelmed by the beauty of community-powered events and DIY energy?

Bike Camp featured a sundown screening of an exclusive pre-release director’s cut of Rue’s new film, Lael Rides Around The World, along with a Q&A with both Lael and Rue, and a meet-and-greet with Lael, who was sharing stories, perspective, and all sorts of ephemera from her Guinness world record-setting 108 days, 12 hours, and 12 minutes around the world. Lael and Rue’s latest is a remarkable achievement for both cycling and movie-making. As they tour the film, Rue’s polishing and revising it until it premieres on The Radavist on May 28th, so every showing is unique!

As the Q&A comes to a close, a full moon rises over the mountain, the fires pull you closer for warmth—maybe someone shares a slice of their secret pizza, or perhaps you cozy up in your sleeping bag, or you stay close to the stage, listening to Erin Rae and Annie Williams lullaby the field of camp-goers to sleep in the bright moonlight.

The morning is a camp morning like many others; early risers rustling about, quietly making their coffee, preparing their bikes for the Advanced MTB Ride (led by Matt Schweiker) or the FTWNB Ride (led by Ana Fajardo). There’s a boutique oatmeal bar called The Oatmeal Experience fueling folks up before their rides. As the sun climbs into the sky and the field warms up, people begin packing. The Late Starter Ride (led by Andrew Gage) leaves a little later, as promised, and rambles several miles on dirt doubletrack to a local spring, creekside much of the way. And as everyone returns to camp to pack and eat lunch (all-you-can-eat grilled hot dogs), a distinct feeling of contentment is in the air. We’ve all got one ride left.

Lael called Bike Camp “really pure and special.” After just a few hours, she already had a clear picture of why: it’s an event that is very literally from the community, for the community. From the DIY culture of the event itself, to the brands that were present, to the people who took a risk, and came to the first edition of a new thing. It was a simple invitation: Bikes. Camp. And in many ways, that is its genius. Bikes. Camp. The rest of it? Your choice.

In a time that frequently feels aggressive, abrasive, even violent, bringing a couple hundred people of so many backgrounds and degrees of interest together to host a celebration of the experiences enabled by a bike – from the simplest ride to the woods, to a record breaking circumnavigation of the globe – might be a sort of antidote, or at least something that’s a little bit healing. You don’t have to win. You can just show up and try something. Maybe it’ll be amazing, but no pressure. The point isn’t the comparison; it’s the experience.

And while Lael’s record-breaking achievement is absolutely astonishing, and competitive at the highest levels of cycling-as-a-sport, Lael Rides Around The World paints a vivid picture of a person who does what she does for the love of it. A person who simply prefers to be on a bike, in motion, seeing things, meeting people. She’s living her own simple invitation: just ride.

If you (hypothetically) lived this weekend, you might have had some thoughts brewing as you packed up to ride back into the city. Lucky for you, your last ride of the weekend is still ahead. As you pedal your way back over the shoulder of the mountain with Lael and sixty new friends, four bikes to a lane pouring back into the city for a coffee, it all starts to come into focus.

Big thanks to Mitchell, Derek, and the broader team of staff, workshop hosts, vendors, and volunteers who made Bike Camp exist. Thanks to Lael for always bringing such friendliness & positivity wherever she goes. And, of course: thanks to everyone who came to Bike Camp.