The Rider:

First, tell us about yourself & how you started cycling. What keeps you going?

I’m Rick, chef and one of the owners of Lardo, Grassa, and Bluto’s—husband to Sheila, father to Luke and Miles. I feel like I’ve always had a bike of some sort from the time I was a little kid. I remember the first time riding around the neighborhood with my friends and the feeling that my world had just gotten a whole lot bigger. I still feel that way! I can’t believe where the bike has taken me and where it continues to take me! I pour over routes on Ride with GPS and OMTM to plot and plan the next day of adventure. I can’t wait to spend 4, 5, or more hours in nature with friends, connecting, eating, laughing, suffering, and looking out for one another.

I learn a lot about my fellow riders, and I learn so much about myself.

Portland has a lot going on in terms of cycling and culinary culture. How has this junction of great riding and food shaped who you are as a cyclist and a Chef?

I feel very fortunate to be a part of both the food and cycling communities. Thanks to my friend Chris DiMinno, a fellow chef and cyclist, I’ve been lucky enough to cook at some great cycling events. As someone who has spent a career nurturing and feeding people, there are few things more gratifying than feeding a fully bonked, beyond-hungry endurance cyclist! It reminds us why we do what we do.

There is a controlled chaos in restaurants. It’s noisy and full of people. I get pulled in lots of different directions. It has a frenetic pace some days. When I get on my bike, it’s the total opposite. I’m at peace. I listen to the gravel under my wheels, my breathing, and I feel my heart beating. I am locked in. It calms me. It helps me manage the stress of all the things at work. At some point during every long ride, I get hungry and start thinking about food. It’s like opening a door to tons of thoughts and ideas that sometimes lead to delicious menu items. Fun!

Cooking has impacted you to the degree that you extend that impact to the community through your cooking and sharing your space and time. Tell us about that experience! Did that inspire the “Chefwich” series?

I owe a lot to cooking. It always felt very natural to give back. That has taken on lots of different forms. In June, I will ride 200 miles in Bend with a bunch of chefs to raise money for No Kid Hungry. The one thing that makes me the happiest is the Chefwich series. It involves a chef who creates a sandwich with us for our menu and runs for an entire month. A portion of the proceeds from that sandwich is donated to a non-profit of the guest chef’s choosing. It started as a way to connect with other chefs and restaurateurs in a city where I didn’t know anyone yet. It helped me tap into the food scene in Portland, but It became something much bigger and more important to me. It helps build community, widens our circle of friends, and helps us understand more about the people giving their time and energy to big causes. It’s the beating heart of our menu!

The Bike:

Now tell us about the bikes; what's the story? Why did you go with No. 22? How different is Ti from steel?

I was ready for a special bike, a dream build. A bike that would get me excited to ride again. Retail therapy is real when you find yourself in a bit of a slump. I lusted for several months after No.22’s bikes on social media and their website. The attention to detail is absurd. They make beautiful bikes, works of art. I took a leap of faith and pulled the trigger. I waited almost nine months, and No.22 didn’t disappoint. It’s been a year, and I’ve put almost five thousand miles into it. I can’t get enough. It is supple and responsive, and the fit is incredible. I feel so good on it, even for the longest rides and I’m never not excited to get back in the saddle. It has been a total game-changer.

Frame, Fork, Rider seeks to find more about the connection between the rider and their bike(s). What makes that connection for you?

The connection for me is about getting out and taking care of myself mentally and physically in the most fun way possible. Even on a bad day I’m never not happy that I got out. The days I ride are better than the days I don’t. When I get miles in, I am better and more prepared for the world. I use a mantra when I’m climbing a particularly tough hill - ‘There’s a stronger version of me on the other side of this hill, and there always is. I continue pushing myself to see what I’m capable of, like longer rides and more elevation. The sense of accomplishment is something that stays with me for a very long time. There’s an afterglow that every cyclist experiences after a big effort. That’s where the good stuff is!