Scenes from 2019's Mission Crit, San Francisco's fixed-gear bike race.
© Jullio Bustamante
Fixed Gear

Mission Crit’s race for the community

After a two-year hiatus, the fixed-gear race, Mission Crit, returns to the streets of San Francisco—and with it comes a new wave of racers expanding the bike scene.
By Melissa Saenz Gordon
8 min readPublished on
Fixie racers unite! The San Francisco fixed-gear bike race, Mission Crit, returns for its seventh edition this Labor Day weekend after a three-year break. For the first time in the event’s history, competitors will race and be scored on a triple crown omnium format. Cyclists will compete in three races over the weekend: on Friday there’s the Red Bull Short Circuit race, an elimination race on a go-kart track. Saturday, the flagship Mission Crit takes place, a street course in the Mission District. Topped off with the Cross at the ‘Stick race on Sunday, a so-called tracklocross race at Candlestick Point.
“Mission Crit is the last great American bike race," says James Grady, the race organizer and founder (and local bicycle evangelist), in a Zoom interview. He speaks of the race like a proud parent, but since Brooklyn’s Red Hook Crit has been on permanent hiatus since 2018, Mission Crit is also one of the last fixed-gear focussed races left standing in the States. In 2019, more than 6,000 spectators watched 300 athletes representing 10 countries compete for the title of Mission Crit. The event draws local legends and professional racers like Justin Williams.
“A couple of years ago I realized I was putting on a community event and a big party that happened to feature a bike race,” says Grady, who has worked to make the event inviting to the neighborhood and spectators by providing better signage, getting an emcee and organizing food trucks. Enlisting fellow cyclists to execute the event also gives it that “punk rock and DIY vibe.” Rider Chas Christensen serves as Mission Crit’s director of competition and fellow bicycle messengers and cyclists from the local scene act as course marshals.
“I've had so many people become interested in cycling through Mission Crit," says James Grady, "the community is just second to none.”

"The community is just second to none," says James Grady.

© Julio Bustamante

Another grounding element about Mission Crit, Grady argues, is that it’s egalitarian and more accessible than other racing competitions. Firstly, the race operates outside of all the rules and red-tape of governing bodies; anybody can register. “If you bought a bike last week and want to line up against your heroes, you're welcome to do that,” says Grady. Fixed-gear bikes are also more affordable. For this reason, “the fixed-gear community is more in line with skate culture than with cycling,” says Grady, because the barrier of entry is much lower. For $300, “you can get a fixie and bomb around the streets with your friends,” he says, compared to a road bike that costs at least $1,000 and often far more.
With far fewer barriers to enter, fixie riding is one of the more inclusive forms of racing. “The fixed-gear community is very welcoming,” says Grady. “Bullshit isn’t tolerated.” Registration is open for male and WTFNB (women, trans, femme and non-binary) riders, and in past editions, Grady has issued gender statements on Instagram—drafted in partnership with trans athletes—affirming riders to “race in whichever field they closely identify.”
In July, Leia Genis, a trans woman, was stripped of her silver medal in the USA Cycling Elite Track National Championships and was removed from competing by USA Cycling. “The transphobia is so blatant it's almost laughable,” she wrote in an Instagram post. USA Cycling generally allows competitors to self-select their gender but asserted that in an elite riding category, they had to comply with rules set by the UCI, the international governing body of the sport. Genis shared the frustrations of being a trans athlete in cycling, from “poorly communicated guidelines, restrictions and requirements that are constantly changing and lack of empathy.” In contrast, Mission Crit has featured multiple trans winners on the podium. “Cycling in America is dying, and the way to grow it is not by excluding people,” says Grady. “They're not protecting anybody but actively harming people.” The only requirements of Mission Crit are specific to the bike: one gear with drop handlebars and foot retention and without brakes. (“And a helmet!” he adds. You have to wear a helmet.”).
WTFNB riders in 2019's Mission Crit.

WTFNB riders in 2019's Mission Crit.

© Julio Bustamante

There are 3 ways to attract more WTFNB riders, according to Natalia Cortes.

There are 3 ways to attract more WTFNB riders, according to Natalia Cortes.

© Julio Bustamante

Although the number of WTFNB participants has grown over the years, Mission Crit still skews male. While all 75 spots in the men’s category sold out in a few hours, about half of the WTFNB slots remained. Since a large part of Grady’s funding structure relies on registrations, he announced on Instagram that he’d have to reallocate some of the WTFNB slots to the men’s division. An online conversation ensued around how to get more WTFNB riders in the mix. For rider Natalia Cortes (they/them), 27, this also signaled an opportunity to get more involved.
Cortes is a part of a new cohort of riders creating space for WTFNB and BIPOC riders in the Bay Area. “With one Instagram post, eight riders registered,” says Cortes. “It shows how easy it is to make space for this.” Cortes has a background in visual culture and is an event and marketing specialist for community spaces in San Jose, California.
A seasoned gravel racer Cortes only took up fixed-gear riding in 2020. They shared three proven strategies with Grady over email that would help attract more ridership. First: create visibility with digital content from the perspective of those riders. Second: develop structures for the community to crowdfund for sponsored registrations, like hosting an alley cat race—essentially a bicycle scavenger hunt—which raises money and fosters community. Cost of entry is a common barrier for BIPOC and WTFNB riders. A local cannabis company sponsored Cortes this year, but they’ve had to reach out to race organizers for help when they couldn’t afford registration fees for other races—Grady sponsored Cortes in a recent race that he produced. Thirdly: “create gathering spaces for WTFNB riders to exist by hosting group rides and workshops."
Natalia Cortes only began riding fixed-gear bikes in 2020.

Natalia Cortes only began riding fixed-gear bikes in 2020.

© Randy Higashi

Cortes strives to demystify fixie culture and reflect how inclusive it is.

Cortes strives to demystify fixie culture and reflect how inclusive it is.

© Image provided by Natalia Cortes

Many of these principles, Cortes gleaned from going on group rides hosted by the Radical Adventure Riders (RAR). This group prioritizes gender inclusion and racial equity in cycling and the outdoors. Last year, Cortes participated in the SBT GVL, an annual gravel race in Colorado, which partnered with Ride for Racial Justice and sponsored 25-30 BIPOC riders to participate from across the nation. In a sea of 3,000 riders, “to have a cohort of riders who are down to talk to you, look like you and come from backgrounds like you felt so validating,” says Cortes. They recently helped launch a local chapter of RAR in the Bay Area.
“I've seen a lot of work happening in [the gravel] scene and I want to carry that over to track,” notes Cortes, “because it's fun and can be very inclusive.” They want to demystify track culture, in which marketing materials and race posters often give off a vibe that is hardcore and dangerous. Cortes explains with a laugh, “for people new to this, they want to get out of this alive.”
Alana Mari is new to the fixie scene but is now a local fixture.

Alana Mari is new to the fixie scene but is now a local fixture.

© Photo provided by Alana Mari

Rider Alana Mari (she/her), 24, is also fairly new to the Bay Area fixed-gear community but is now an active member. After attending college in Japan, Mari returned to San Francisco as the pandemic gained momentum in early 2020 and bought her first track bike off Craigslist. After gaining confidence riding the bike in her neighborhood, she decided to join a group ride hosted by the local group Phixed Kings Expeditions. “I was intimidated because I wasn't sure how many other women or queer people would be there, especially with ‘kings’ the name." She messaged the organizers, who responded, “all bodies are welcome,” as well as all bikes. Since joining, Mari has noticed more queer and non-binary riders participating in rides.
For Pride month last year, Mari organized an alley cat race. Each checkpoint was related to queer history and queer landmarks in San Francisco. From a simple Instagram campaign, over 60 riders participated in 2021 and almost 100 riders joined this year. Both races collectively raised $4,000 from registrations, which Mari donated to Transgender District, a local nonprofit. Next year she’d like to partner with the organization instead of solely donating to it.
“There were so many people who had never done an alley cat and didn't even know what it was, but they saw [the poster] on Instagram and thought, well, I'm queer and I ride a bike, this looks cool.” For Mari, it was also “an indicator that people are seeing this and felt welcomed enough to come.” Mari will race in Mission Crit and is a newly sponsored rider for Eclipse Racing, an amateur team that promotes WTF ridership.
The manifest from Mari's Pride Cat—each stop inspired by queer history.

The manifest from Mari's Pride Cat—each stop inspired by queer history.

© Image provided by Alana Mari

Mari's Pride Cat race raised close to $4,000 for the Transgender District. Here, winners from the 2022 edition pose in San Francisco's Dolores Park.

Mari's Pride Cat race raised close to $4,000 for the Transgender District.

© Image provided by Alana Mari

Riders from all over are traveling to San Francisco for Mission Crit this weekend, from places like Texas to Italy. In addition to Mission Crit’s triple crown omnium, three sister events produced by local organizations will also be hosted, in addition to two parties. “A bunch of people will be in town wanting to race bikes—there's no other program like this specifically for like fixed gear riders,” says Grady. He likens Mission Crit to a music festival rather than a sporting event and works with sponsors to activate the space creatively instead of “handing out crap that nobody wants or needs.”
Cortes hopes to work together with Grady on next year’s competition to make it even more accessible to WTFNB and BIPOC riders. “The community is down and raise money for Mission Crit to happen,” and Cortes is ready to support. For Grady, this race is about growing a sport of cycling and spreading the gospel of bike culture. “I've had so many people become interested in cycling through Mission Crit," says Grady, "the community is just second to none.”
Mission Crit takes place Sept 2-4 in San Francisco, California.
Grady hopes that Mission Crit spectators get inspired to try cycling.

Grady hopes that Mission Crit spectators get inspired to try cycling.

© Julio Bustamante