BEYOND THE ORDINARY SUBSCRIBE: getredbulletin.com FINAL FRONTIER Astronaut Tim Peake on the future of space travel FROZEN WILDS Ski-rafting in the Arctic Circle PANIC SHACK The anarchic Welsh punk band making musical mayhem The rapid rise of enduro supremo BILLY BOLT Bolt from the blue UK EDITION DECEMBER 2023, £3.50
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EDITOR’S LETTER STAYING POWER Contributors EMINE SANER The Hastings-based journalist spoke to astronaut Tim Peake for this issue. “After reading his book, astronauts seem even more superhuman – the sort who can land a space shuttle, fix anything from a computer to a space-station loo, and do dentistry if needed,” she says. “Tim, though, is delightfully down-to-earth.” Page 40 AARON ROLPH For an experienced mountain athlete/photographer, fresh tests come from mixing skills in new ways. “I’d always dreamt of putting together a project combining skiing and rafting,” Rolph says of his Norway adventure in this issue. “I’d love to take all the credit [for the imagery], but it’s hard to take a bad picture up there!” Page 75 ALEX DE MORA “I’m glad I took a spare change of clothes,” the London-based photographer says of his shoot with Billy Bolt at the Weston Beach Race. “Making pictures with Billy was a lot of fun as it was totally out of my comfort zone. Sand was flying in my face, a motorbike was skidding towards me… but I loved rolling around on the beach.” Page 30 What would you put up with in pursuit of your passion? If your answer doesn’t include losing a few fngertips, you’re not as dedicated as this month’s cover star, enduro rider Billy Bolt. Even after the unfortunate accident with a motorbike chain that left him digitally challenged from the age of seven, all the bike-obsessed lad from Wallsend has ever wanted to do is ride. Now, with fve world titles to his name, he’s come out smiling. Finding her calling was less of a gory affair for street artist Zabou. She moved from her native France to London aged 20 and braved run-ins with the police in order to hone her skills with a spray can. Now she’s a pro, telling stories of people from all walks of life with her giant, photorealistic murals. And for Tim Peake, the journey to becoming the frst British astronaut to walk in space meant learning basic dentistry, how to speak Russian, and enduring both zero gravity and the ocean depths. He tells us how the history of space travel is propelling a new generation to the next giant leap. Enjoy the issue. Shore shot: Alex de Mora braves sand in the eye while shooting enduro ace Billy Bolt on Weston-super-Mare beach for our feature 04 THE RED BULLETIN ALEX DE MORA (COVER)
GALLERY 8 PLAYLIST: RITA ORA 15 DISCOFOOT 16 ELITE ADVENTURES 19 SINISTER FINGS 21 FRIENDSHIP BENCH 22 HEROES RICK ASTLEY 24 The man, the meme: how an ’80s icon discovered a whole new audience JAY RAWE 26 The BASE jumper who found new kicks after a life-changing injury SIMONE GIERTZ 28 Got an everyday problem? This inventor has a ridiculous solution ENDURO BILLY BOLT 30 On the beach with the Geordie superstar biker who, no matter how gnarly and chaotic the challenge, always rides with a smile on his face SPACE EXPLORATION TIM PEAKE 40 Britain’s frst spacewalker takes us on a revealing voyage through the past, present and future of astronautics STREET ART ZABOU 48 Huge both in scale and in impact, this French artist’s spraypainted urban murals relate intimate stories of real people’s lives PHOTOGRAPHY RED BULL ILLUME 56 Surf to sand, snow to skate – just a handful of highlights from the 2023 edition of this global adventure and action-sports photography contest MUSIC PANIC SHACK 68 Cardiff’s meal-deal-loving punk foursome talk jiu-jitsu, festival frenzy, and biting back at online trolls VENTURE TRAVEL 75 E Q U I P M E N T: B L A N C PA I N X SWATCH DIVER’S WATCH 80 EQUIPMENT: POLAROID I-2 81 FITNESS: COLD EXERCISE 82 SNOW-SPORTS TECH 84 HOW TO: QUIT 86 GAMING: MONOPOLY 88 BAR GUIDE: BRIXTON 90 CALENDAR 92 48 SEMI-RAD 98 40 CONTENTS 06 THE RED BULLETIN GETTY IMAGES, ZABOU
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Our planet is marbled with underground rivers, and three-time wakeskating world champ Brian Grubb dreamt of riding one. So, this July, the American took his eFoil (electric hydrofoil surfboard) 30m below ground to tour Myst’ry River, the longest navigable subterranean waterway in the US. Zipping along at 32kph, Grubb rode a tenth of its 34km length. “It was a lot tighter than I anticipated,” he admits. “That made it look really cool in the video, but it was pretty technical riding.” Watch his adventure at redbull.com Bedford, Indiana, USA FOILING DOWN
09 ROBERT SNOW/RED BULL CONTENT POOL DAVYDD CHONG
We could tell you that Kenneth ‘Pollis’ Tencio learnt to ride a BMX on the streets of Cartago, Costa Rica. We could share that as a teen he spent all his savings on his first bike. We could mention his silver finish in Freestyle Park at the 2018 Urban Cycling World Championships. We might even tell you he got his nickname while in the Glasgow police. But we won’t (the last one’s a lie, anyway). We’ll just let you enjoy this no-hander, shot by Argentinian Agustin Muñoz, in peace. Cheers. redbull.com; Instagram: @agustinmunoz San José, Costa Rica HANDS FREE
Maddie Mastro is a gift to inventors of nicknames. But then, you don’t get called ‘Mad Dog’ and ‘Maestro’ if you’re not worthy. A keen snowboarder from the age of six, the Californian is now a seasoned medal-winner – three silver, two bronze – at the World Championships and Winter X Games, and represented the US at the 2018 and 2022 Winter Olympics. Here, we witness her hard-charging attitude (Mad Dog, see?) in action at a Red Bull Snow Team session this May. Grrrr… Instagram: @maddie_mastro Mammoth Lakes, CA, USA WINTER’S TAIL 11 AGUSTIN MUNOZ/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, PETER MORNING/RED BULL CONTENT POOL DAVYDD CHONG
Apologies to vertigo sufferers, but this shot of Austrian climber and freeskier Nadine Wallner tackling the Vertical Jungfrau Marathon this July really places you in the action. She and her Swiss colleague Simon Wahli nailed the climb – from Lauterbrunnen Valley to the top of the Jungfrau (4,158m), via two routes (rated 7a+ and 7a) and Rotbrättgrat ridge – in an astonishing 16 hours, 20 minutes. The icing on the summit? Wallner became the first woman to complete it. Watch the incredible ascent at redbull.com Bernese Oberland, Switzerland ROCK CLASSIC 13 TIM MARCOUR/RED BULL CONTENT POOL DAVYDD CHONG
POC VITREA NEW
It was as a teen performing at open mics at her dad’s pub in London that Rita Ora discovered her love for music. Today, Ora – the daughter of Albanian parents who fled the conflict in Kosovo in the ’90s – is one of the UK’s most successful artists, with more than 10 billion streams and four number ones; in 2018 she became the first British female solo artist to have 13 top 10 singles. In 2015, she tried her hand at acting, appearing in the Fifty Shades of Grey franchise; she has also dabbled in entrepreneurship, partnering with a tequila brand and launching a sustainable activewear label. But this year saw Ora return to her first love, music, with her third album, You & I. Here, the 32-year-old selects four songs that inspired her to become a pop icon back in the day. ritaora.com Abba Dancing Queen (1976) “This is a classic, and there’s a reason why: it’s just perfect. This is a song that every pop star wishes they wrote, because it has such an uplifting hook but it also pulls on your heartstrings, and there’s just a really incredible chord progression. It also makes you feel like a queen on the dancefloor. I always play it at my parties.” Tina Turner The Best (1989) “I love Tina Turner for what she did, and for the fight that she showed; her resilience and work ethic is something that I’m very inspired by. Her voice is, of course, incredibly iconic. And I love her rock’n’roll approach to music, her fashion sense, her performance, and iconic songs like The Best. Plus, we shared the same birthday, so that’s cool.” Bruce Springsteen I’m on Fire (1984) “I’m on Fire [from the music icon’s best-selling Born in the USA album] is such a delicate record. Bruce is a rock star, but it’s actually a relaxing, beautiful vocal. It’s not complicated, it’s a very simple song, and sometimes that’s the purest. He was one of the reasons why I picked up a pen and started writing.” Eric Clapton Tears in Heaven (1992) “An oldie but a goodie. Eric Clapton is one of my favourite guitar players, and I loved the band Cream [his rock trio in the late ’60s] growing up. My dad had great taste in music, and this song was always playing in our house. It’s a really sad song about his child who died accidentally, and it just gets me very emotional.” RITA ORA Educating Rita The internationally acclaimed singer on four songs that inspired her on the journey to pop stardom Scan the QR code to hear our Playlist podcast with Rita Ora on Spotify THE RED BULLETIN 15 BMG MARCEL ANDERS
National Ballet de Lorraine – part of a network of 19 regional choreographer-run companies, set up to decentralise dance beyond Paris. Joining him was long-term creative collaborator Thomas Caley, formerly with New York’s radical Merce Cunningham Dance Company. The pair initially came up with the idea for a local festival. But since 2016 Discofoot has toured France, Sweden and Germany and been shared online by thousands, including Hollywood spectators Brie Larson and Jennifer Garner. Behind the silliness, though, is a serious subtext – a socially conscious sport of sorts. “You might ask, ‘What’s going on here?’” Jacobsson says. “Well, disco is very liberating. Anything goes. Suddenly you’ve got all these football players doing outrageous things, which is contrary to the masculine way of watching and performing sport.” Accordingly, men and women are equally involved, and even the gold micro-shorts are a social commentary on gender and what’s acceptable. “In the ’70s, it was considered masculine to show your legs – shorts were shorter!” says Caley. “The fact that ours are gold is another thing. It’s how we question where we are [in society] with our so-called masculinity or femininity.” In consciously clashing two opposing forces, Discofoot has exposed the ingrained homophobia and sexism that still exists in sport and society as a whole. “We can laugh about it,” says Jacobsson, “but we’ve also received really threatening comments: ‘This is the end of the world’, ‘This is destroying the game’, ‘What is this?’” Next summer, they are due to perform in Morocco. “It’s an interesting prospect, potentially inspiring many different points of view,” Jacobsson says. “This is a friendly way of us saying, ‘We’re all equal.’” ballet-de-lorraine.eu For centuries, Place Stanislas in Nancy, northeast France, has symbolised conservatism and tradition, with its Rococo architecture and UNESCO World Heritage status. But on April 13, 2016, the city’s residents might well have done a double-take. A group had gathered, carrying a football, sporting training bibs – and wearing tiny gold shorts. Their goal? To play the first match of a flamboyant new dance-infused, disco-football mash-up taking social media by storm. Welcome to Discofoot. The rules are simple: two teams battle it out, performing swirling, expressive dance moves while adhering to the strict regulations of football. There are goal celebrations, penalties, a referee and coaches (often shaking their DISCOFOOT Saturday afternoon fever Love to dance? Passionate about football? Discofoot is for you. More spectacle than sport, this flamboyant travelling football match strikes home with an important social message, too hips on the sidelines). Beyond that, the only differences are a disco-spinning DJ, a panel of steely judges… and the kit. “We make fun of everything,” says Petter Jacobsson, one of the masterminds behind the new sport-cum-spectacle. “The fake injuries, the action replays… The DJ rewinds the music, everything goes in slow motion and the dancers move backwards.” A titan of the dance world, Petter was formerly a principal dancer for the Sadlers Wells Royal Ballet and artistic director of the Royal Swedish Ballet, before heading up Nancy’s Centre Chorégraphique Off the barre: in May 2018, Discofoot played an away game at the iconic Centre Pompidou in Paris. The final score? A corps draw 16 THE RED BULLETIN LAURENT PHILIPPE LAURA HOLT
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In 2021, a Netflix documentary about a little-known Nepali climber who scaled all 14 of the world’s 8,000m peaks in a record-trouncing seven months resonated beyond the mountaineering community. “I wanted to show the world what a human can do,” says Nims Purja of his Project Possible, completed two years earlier. Now Purja is helping ordinary travellers to push their own limits climbing alongside him and his team at Elite Exped, a company offering ascents of the Seven Summits (the highest on each continent) and ventures into the 8,000m ‘death zone’. These were once the preserve of professional mountaineers only. “For too long, people felt the big mountains weren’t for them,” says Purja. “I hope to show people it’s never too late to start a new journey.” In the years since Purja’s film 14 Peaks: Nothing is Impossible aired, interest in elite expeditions has boomed, especially among everyday explorers. But he’s not taking all the credit: “I think COVID made people think about what they want to experience; about their big dreams when they were able to travel again.” Another company helping people realise their dreams of adventure is Untamed Borders, which began as a logistics resource enabling film crews to access hard-to-reach places and has expanded to include Women’s Expeditions, designed for and led by female travellers,” he says. “The aim is to break down barriers, debunk misconceptions, and offer an insight into the lives of women in, say, Pakistan or Morocco.” With increased demand comes increased environmental responsibility. All the companies limit or offset any impact of their trips and aim to have a positive social effect – Elite Exped and Untamed Borders train and employ local people to ensure financial benefits are felt by the community. With more people involved, the cost of adventure has become more accessible, too; entry-level trips such as an Everest base camp expedition with Elite Exped start at $3,000 (around £2,500) per person. Only thing is, you just might need to factor in an extra week off work to recover. untamedborders.com; elite exped.com; intrepidtravel.com ELITE ADVENTURES Into the unknown Going on expeditions needn’t mean quitting your day job. Every year, more and more ordinary travellers are accomplishing extraordinary feats with the help of seasoned adventurers like Nims Purja everyday adventurers. It has seen a 20-per-cent increase in expeditions since 2019. Untamed Borders specialises in “places with a security risk; places where you’ll need extra paperwork or logistical help”, says founder James Willcox. These include excursions into Afghanistan’s isolated Wakhan Corridor, as well as offbeat destinations such as Tajikistan. “When I began travelling, 25 years ago, there wasn’t a guidebook to these kinds of places,” he adds. “Now there’s so much information.” And as this type of travel becomes more mainstream, the profile of adventurers is evolving: travellers from non-Western nations now make up 15 per cent of bookings. For Frank Cheshire, brand and product manager (cycling) for global operator Intrepid Travel, the gender profile is the most discernible shift. “We’ve recently launched Above and beyond: (from top) the first-ever commercial kayak trip to Afghanistan’s Panjshir Valley, with Untamed Borders; Nims Purja of Elite Exped THE RED BULLETIN 19 KRISTOF STURSA, NIMSDAI/RED BULL CONTENT POOL LAURA HOLT
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As teenagers growing up in the ’90s, friends Jo Buchan and Tom Passmore were obsessed with skateboarding. However, near-constant rain and a lack of skate spots in their small hometown in Wales made outdoor sessions scarce. Desperate to sate their hunger, the pair stumbled upon fingerboarding, a scaled-down simulation of skateboarding using fingers instead of feet. They were soon constructing their own skateparks and ramps to hone their digital skills. As life led the two friends away from Wales and into other interests, their hobby faded into the background. Then, in 2020, more than two decades after they’d shelved their miniature skate world, Buchan’s 12-year-old son Finlay unearthed the old fingerboards, rekindling his dad’s interest. In no time, they were building new fingerboarding ramps and rails, just as Buchan had done when he was his son’s age. Buchan soon realised the obstacles they were crafting exceeded the quality of most others on the market. “Much of the other fingerboarding equipment is very American, clean-cut, and depicts pristine streets,” he says. “The UK isn’t like that; we’re grittier, grimier, and we want to capture that essence. Our pieces focus on hyperrealism – details like packaging, cigarette butts, mould and rust. We’re all about those obscure little nuances.” Under the name Sinister Fings, father and son now sell their realistic replicas of UK skate spots. From graffitied half-pipes to overflowing bins and even the concrete benches outside London’s Tate Modern art gallery, they ensure their fingerboard obstacles closely mimic the real-life skating experience by using reclaimed materials, including recycled skatepark components and items found on the street. When it came to adding intricate details to each model, Buchan turned to childhood friend Passmore. “I’m a carpenter by trade, but Tom is exceptionally creative,” Buchan says. “He relishes the process of crafting intricate models, particularly things like old bottles and scaleddown Greggs wrappers with discarded miniature sausage rolls for the bins.” Their first range, Sinister Street, has now been released online, and skate shops across the UK and America have requested that their own local skateparks get the Sinister Fings treatment. “Currently we’re working on a fingerboard version of London’s Southbank,” says Buchan. “However, [Tom and I] just build them; Finlay is our CEO and heads our online marketing. He’s the man in charge.” A chairman of the board in more ways than one. Instagram: @sinister_fngs SINISTER FINGS All hands on deck In the ’90s, two skate-mad Welsh teens stumbled upon the world of fingerboarding and began making their own mini obstacles. Now, after a two-decade hiatus, the hobby has become a business Sweating the small stuff: Sinister Fings’ meticulously crafted skate obstacles are just like the real thing, Greggs wrappers and all THE RED BULLETIN 21 RICK SMEE LOU BOYD
our culture, grandmothers are the custodians of local culture and wisdom,” Chibanda explains. “They hold communities together and keep families united. They possess incredible skills in conveying empathy and creating a safe space for people to share their stories. There are all these attributes that come with age, which I realised we could tap into across all the communities in Zimbabwe.” Training local older women in basic cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) and talk therapy, along with activity scheduling and peer-led group support, Chibanda started to bridge the mental health treatment gap, setting up spaces in cities to help those with depression and improve people’s quality of life. “Every human being can be equipped with these skills,” he says of the training that Friendship Bench provides. “The more we are able to share our stories, the more we create communities that give people a sense of belonging and purpose.” Today, Friendship Bench has more than 1,600 trained workers and has provided support to more than 240,000 people on benches in cities across Zimbabwe, Vietnam, Malawi, Zanzibar, Kenya and the US. Over the next year, the NGO hopes to launch the ‘Friendship Bench in a Box’, a do-it-yourself package that consolidates all the lessons it has learnt and tailors that knowledge to the needs of other organisations planning to set up a bench in their own city. “The power of Friendship Bench is its ability to create space for people to share stories,” says Chibanda. “Setting up Friendship Bench is, first and foremost, creating space for people to share their stories, because that’s how healing starts.” friendshipbenchzimbabwe.org In a park in Harare, Zimbabwe, a man walks up to a bench where an older woman is sitting. He hands her a piece of paper and sits down next to her. After reading the paper, the woman smiles at him and asks a brief question: “Would you like to share your story with me?” The man begins to talk about his life, his worries and his burdens, and the woman listens. This is a Friendship Bench, part of a landmark project that employs grandmothers to deliver problem-solving therapy from neighbourhood benches to anyone in need. A non-governmental organisation (NGO), Friendship Bench was founded in 2006 by psychiatrist Dixon Chibanda following the suicide of one of his patients, a 26-year-old woman named Erica, who had FRIENDSHIP BENCH Seat of wisdom Alarmed by life-threatening gaps in his country’s mental health provision, a Zimbabwean psychiatrist found hope in the heart of the community Hear to help: (from top) talking through problems on a Friendship Bench; the project has a team of more than 1,600 trained therapists been unable to access mental health services. “Erica wanted to get help,” he says. “She knew she needed to be at the hospital where she could receive care. However, she lived about 300 miles [480km] from my hospital, and her family didn’t have the money for her to travel by bus. It was an awful tragedy and made me realise how little access to mental health services there was in my country. I was one of only 12 psychiatrists practising in all of Zimbabwe.” Chibanda made it his mission to deliver mental health services to those in need. He’d do it by giving the community the necessary tools, and by empowering the people who were already providing unofficial support every day: grandmothers and community elders. “In 22 THE RED BULLETIN CONSTANTINE JUTA/PICTURE HUB LOU BOYD
TO GET THERE FW 23
out in the studios? You’ll have to make tea, but you’ll learn a lot.” I said, “Yes!” And when Mike Stock sat down and played the chords of Never Gonna Give You Up into a Fairlight [synth], I was there getting coffee. So in a strange way I was involved in the chemistry of what was going on, because Mike was writing that song for me. Do you wish you’d written it? Not everybody can be Lennon and McCartney. I’ve written a few songs, even songs that have been hits in America. But I didn’t write Never Gonna Give You Up or Together Forever [a global hit in 1988]. I don’t think I could have. You have to be extremely blinkered and say, “I’m not trying to be cool; I’m writing a pop song that’s going to last for years.” [SAW] found a formula and said, “We’re sticking with this because it’s working.” That’s one of the reasons I wanted to leave, because I’d hear records I loved and think, “There’s no way [SAW] want to make a record like that.” But it wasn’t my place to ask them to change. The song has taken you to unexpected places, like onstage with Foo Fighters… I met those guys in Japan a few years ago and jumped onstage after a few beers. They’d learnt how to play [Nirvana’s Smells Like] Teen Spirit so I could sing Never Gonna Give You Up over the top. I’d never met them; I just went out on stage and sang that song because Dave [Grohl, Foo Fighters’ frontman] asked me to. He just whispered it in my ear, like, “Do you want to do this right now in front of 50,000 people?” I said, “Yes!” We all had a laugh with that, then we had a few beers after. Dave wants to meet people and go, “What do you do? Why are you here? What’s going on?” He’s one of the most curious people I’ve ever met in terms of music… or anything, full stop. While working as a tea boy for ’80s hitmakers Stock Aitken Waterman (SAW), Rick Astley had no inkling of the fame that awaited him. Then came his 1987 recording debut, Never Gonna Give You Up, a song that would hit number one in 25 countries and propel the former choirboy from Newton-le-Willows in northwest England to megastardom. But even then, if you’d told Astley that the same track would still open doors for him almost 40 years later, drawing crowds of thousands at Glastonbury – to a set of his own songs and a covers tribute to indie icons The Smiths – and giving him the chance to share a stage with one of the world’s biggest rock bands, he would have laughed at you. To date, Never Gonna Give You Up has had 1.4 billion views on YouTube, due in part to Rickrolling, the internet phenomenon where clicking on a seemingly genuine link redirects you to the video. As a result, his music found a whole new audience. To mark the release of his ninth studio album, with a UK tour in the new year, Astley chats to The Red Bulletin about luck, laughs and the importance of saying yes… the red bulletin: Why is the new album titled Are We There Yet? rick astley: I toured America for three months with New Kids on the Block, En Vogue and Salt-N-Pepa. We did 56 shows, 22,000 miles in a bus, which is partly the reason for the title. It’s also “Am I there?” You know, when do you ever get there? Never Gonna Give You Up is where your journey really started. Do you remember the first time you heard it? I’d signed a deal [with SAW] and one day Pete Waterman said, “Do you want to hang You performed two sets at Glastonbury this year: a Rick Astley set and a Smiths set. In the former, you played AC/DC’s Highway to Hell on drums and vocals. Will that be part of the new tour? Because we played Glastonbury, a lot of people saw that, and I don’t want people to expect it. I love playing it, but we need to do something else now. Mix it up a bit. Do you still get Rickrolled? Not so much. Young kids come over and do the dance with me, which is funny. I understand why people might get upset if their song was adopted by the internet, and maybe if it was a ballad I’d written about the loss of someone important I’d feel differently. But it’s a goddamn ’80s pop-dance song. It’s been amazing to me, that song. If you cut me open, it would say Never Gonna Give You Up inside. It’s part of my DNA. So it’s not like I don’t love it, but I have a sense of humour. And I can see the good fortune in having tenyear-old kids know the words. Even if they don’t like it, it’s there, like chewing gum. It gets stuck and won’t go away. Is making music what keeps you looking youthful at 57? I think it’s down to a very stress-free life. I’ve never laid awake going, “I can’t pay the mortgage.” I’ve had the stress of being shit-scared of playing Glastonbury, but that’s a beautiful stress. I consider myself unbelievably lucky. I should be so lucky… Exactly. In fact, I’m seeing Kylie a week on Sunday. Rick Astley’s new album Are We There Yet? is out now; rickastley.co.uk HEROES STAYING POWER In his early twenties, he was one of the faces of ’80s pop. Now, at 57, he’s playing Glastonbury and drinking with Foo Fighters. Here, RICK ASTLEY plots this unlikely career path, including the song that made his name WORDS MARCEL ANDERS PHOTOGRAPHY AUSTIN HARGRAVE 24 THE RED BULLETIN
Rickrolling back the years: the viral online video prank gave Astley a new, younger fanbase “If you cut me open, it would say Never Gonna Give You Up inside” THE RED BULLETIN 25
and he’d take me flying from municipal airport to airport. I always wanted to be able to fly without a plane. How could I get close? BASE jumping. You need skydiving experience, so at 21 I did my AFF [Accelerated Free Fall licence], where I met friends with the same interest. In 2013, one of them saw Red Bull Air Force’s Miles Daisher post online that he needed a roof built on his house in exchange for a first jump course. Me and two buddies packed up a car, drove from Florida to Idaho, and roofed his house that summer. How did life change after you broke your back just eight months later? After surgery, I was in ICU for eight days before transferring to Florida for in-patient rehab. A doctor said I might never get any [movement] back. In my mind, I thought, “I’m going to get back to 100 per cent. I’ll be BASE jumping in six months.” I’m not back to 100 per cent yet – I walk with a cane and have a brace to stop the toes of my left foot tripping me, because I’ve got drop foot [an inability to move the front of the foot]. But I’ve got much more [movement] than I had. And I did BASE jump seven months later. When I got to the bridge, I had all this fear, but it went as soon as I was up there with my friends. How did you discover sit-skiing? I was in a bad place. I moved home from Idaho, didn’t have a job, was drinking a lot, and was working hard in the gym but not seeing progress. I met my now-girlfriend and we decided to do a road trip. On the trip, we went to Utah, and my mom and girlfriend convinced me to try sit-skiing. All the videos I’d seen showed people being steered down the hill, which didn’t look like anything I wanted to be involved in. But then I saw a video of [Canadian Paralympian] Josh Dueck doing a backflip and that changed my whole mindset. When leaping off the Perrine Bridge on the outskirts of Twin Falls, Idaho, BASE jumpers have just six seconds of airtime from launch to impact in the Snake River, 148m below. A 24-year-old Jay Rawe knew the timings like the back of his hand: Perrine Bridge is where he’d cut his teeth. But, in March 2014, it would also be where his life came crashing down. While attempting a daring jump that involved standing on the shoulders of fellow BASE jumper Austin Carey, Rawe became unbalanced. He tried to abort and jump back onto the bridge but didn’t make it. As the pair plummeted, they were able to open their parachute canopies partially at the last second, slightly softening their fall and cheating death. Rawe suffered a burst fracture of his L1 vertebra and tore a ligament off the bone on his ankle. He also sustained peripheral L5 nerve damage affecting his glutes, hamstrings and calves. But rather than end his participation in action sports, Rawe’s life-changing injuries led him to try a new pursuit: sit-skiing, a discipline where the athlete sits in a bucket seat attached to a single ski. Now, almost 10 years later, the 34-year-old is at the forefront of the freestyle sit-skiing scene. This April, he became the first sit-skier to attend the Swatch Nines – an invite-only camp featuring some of the world’s best skiers and snowboarders – and was voted MVP (Most Valuable Player) by his fellow riders. Feeling fitter than ever, he hopes to keep pushing the envelope while showing others what’s possible with a disability. the red bulletin: What inspired you to take up BASE jumping? jay rawe: When I was a kid in Bradenton, Florida, my grandpa had a pilot’s licence How has it helped you? It gave me something to get up for and look forward to, and it gave me a creativity mindset [rather than] a victim mindset. Also, being the first person to do a 360 and the second to do a backflip has given me this purpose to show there’s a way out for anyone in a similar position to me. Are you not scared of injuring yourself again? I could sit on the couch, watch people who are doing this and wish I was there. Or I could find a way to do this safely and understand that I might get injured – it wouldn’t be worse than wishing I’d been doing it. Living a fulfilled life is doing the things I enjoy. Those things happen to involve a lot of risk, but I do everything I can to not step too far across that line. You were voted male MVP by the other riders at Swatch Nines 2023. What did that mean to you? I had put weight on my shoulders – I was the first sit-ski athlete to be invited, so I was speaking for the craft and needed to show that sit-skiers weren’t any more of a liability than any other skier or snowboarder. When I got voted the riders’ choice for MVP, it felt like acceptance. What’s next? I’ve got different trick progressions on my list, including the cork 1080. I’ve also been interested in doing a sit-ski-BASE jump. Before I got hurt, I wanted to learn how to ski, for the sole purpose of doing a ski-BASE jump. I’ve found a way to do it safely, so I’m going to go for it next March for the 10-year anniversary of my accident. Instagram: @jayrawe1695 HEROES HIGH ACHIEVER When a BASE-jumping accident left Florida-born thrill-seeker JAY RAWE with life-changing injuries, he used his mental strength and positive outlook to fnd a new, adrenaline-fuelled calling WORDS CHARLIE ALLENBY 26 THE RED BULLETIN THE NORTH FACE
“Living a fulfilled life is doing the things I enjoy” Sit-skiing has allowed Jay Rawe to pursue his passion for action sports after his 2014 accident THE RED BULLETIN 27
Why did you quit your physics degree? I started tinkering with electronics. Realising I could write code and make actual things move felt like an immense amount of power I wanted to possess. The first thing I built was ridiculous – retractable guitar strings I could pull out [from my phone] and secure to my belt loop. Then I programmed an iPhone app that made the screen look like a guitar neck – you held the chord on the screen and the phone played the sound when you touched a string. It worked poorly, but when you turn something from an idea into a real thing you’re on top of the world. Where did you go from there? Next, I made a toothbrush helmet [a skateboard helmet mounted with a robotic arm holding a toothbrush]. The video on YouTube got 50,000 views. It just kept growing from there. Why was that playfulness and intentional failure important? Looking back, building things with a sense of humour definitely helped quell my perfectionism. Also, I just thought it was really funny; I was just trying to make myself laugh. But then, part of it was a defence mechanism. I wasn’t an expert, but now I’ve spent eight years building things, I feel more confident in my skill and I’m trying to shed some of that selfdeprecation. I think in some way I was trying to be unthreatening as a woman with skills. Now I want to be threatening. What’s your starting point? With most of my inventions, I’m taking an everyday problem and solving it in the most ridiculous way possible. Then I had a brain tumour, which definitely helps sober things up a bit. When I was recovering, I had such limited energy it made me question how I spent my time. The challenge to create something brilliant, perfect even, is too great and overwhelming. “But make something terrible?” says Simone Giertz. “I’m like, ‘OK, this I can do.’” Giertz’s inventions, which she presents to more than 2.6m subscribers on her YouTube channel, are the things you didn’t know you needed – and still probably don’t want. She has made an alarm clock that slaps the sleeper in the face, and robots to feed her soup and apply her lipstick (badly). Born in Sweden, but now living in LA, Giertz is almost entirely self-taught in electronics and engineering, but that hasn’t stopped her cutting up her Tesla to create the world’s first Tesla truck, the Truckla, or making an exoskeleton for her three-legged dog Scraps. Prepared to see humour in anything, in 2018 she even posted videos about the diagnosis of her non-malignant brain tumour – she named it Brian – and her post-surgery recovery. What began as a creative outlet has become a product design business and online store – Yetch, a play on the correct pronunciation of her name – as the selfproclaimed “queen of shitty robots” moves away from her more outlandish inventions to create beautiful and genuinely useful pieces. Here, Giertz, 33, pinpoints the pivot and discusses whether there is still room in the world for a pasta-making mannequin… the red bulletin: Were you always inventing things as a kid in Sweden? simone giertz: I always had projects, but it was mostly things like whittling wood or making weird sculptures out of trash. I wasn’t an electronics kid or into engineering. I thought maybe I’d like to be an astronaut or mathematician. Was I doing the things I wanted to? My stuff still tackles everyday problems, but now in more thoughtful ways. Like your electronic, light-up, habittracking calendar… I built that because I wanted to meditate daily but it’s hard to maintain a habit. I wanted something that hung on my wall that, if I skip a day, it’s going to be an eyesore – when you tap a day, it lights up. When I was recovering from my tumour, it really helped me through that difficult time. I missed one day of meditation, and that was two days after surgery because I was in hospital and constantly throwing up. But I thought, “This works… maybe it would for other people, too.” Will all your future inventions be conventionally useful? I’ve just spent three years designing a foldable hanger for shallow wardrobes and I’m so proud of it. But I’m still building a lot of weird stuff, like a pasta maker made from a make-up mannequin – instead of hair coming out, you extrude pasta. Then it changed to a moustache for technical reasons, but then I had to change it to a goatee, which is just awful. Inventing must teach you how to cope with frustration and disappointment… Yes, and solving problems. It’s like doing a puzzle where nothing works the way it should. I remember that feeling I had as a kid when I finished a woodworking project and got to bring it home to show my parents. That’s my fuel now – being super-excited about something I made and wanting to show it to other people. Instagram: @simonegiertz HEROES THE CREATOR Inventor and robotics devotee SIMONE GIERTZ has spent years solving everyday problems in ridiculous ways. Now she’s ready to get serious… WORDS EMINE SANER 28 THE RED BULLETIN
Simone Giertz: keeping her eccentric ideas under her hat just isn’t her style “When you turn an idea into a real thing, you’re on top of the world” THE RED BULLETIN 29
Bike or bust BILLY BOLT is a master of motorbike enduro who, in pursuit of glory, has sacrificed more parts of his body than he can count. But despite all the sweat and pain the moustachioed Geordie has expended on the way to multiple world titles, the most well-used f-word in Bolt’s vocabulary is still ‘fun’ Words RICHARD EDWARDS Photography ALEX DE MORA
Sand and vision: Billy Bolt, photographed for The Red Bulletin in Weston-super-Mare in September this year 31
“I t’s nice to have something to vlog about – I’ve spent most of today drawing moustaches on kids,” says Billy Bolt, straight-faced, of his photoshoot with The Red Bulletin as he leans forward on his bike and stares down the lens of the camera. Behind him, the early autumn waves lap languidly on the shore as the sun goes down on Weston-super-Mare, North Somerset’s famous coastal resort and the home of the fabled beach race, which this year celebrates its 40th anniversary. That alone is reason for celebration, but the main buzz on this famous stretch of coastline is created by Bolt’s return to the event for the first time in five years. In between shots, as the shadows lengthen, the five-time world champion in enduro opens up the throttle on his new bike on the sand, tearing from a 100-plus years-old pier, past the camera and towards the promontory known as Brean Down. “We’ll be looking to hit around 103mph [165kph] here tomorrow,” says his mechanic, Lee Edmondson. In the absence of a speed gun, The Red Bulletin asks how he knows how fast Bolt is travelling on the bike that Edmondson has been fine-tuning since the start of the week. “Don’t worry, he’s got Strava in his pants,” the mechanic replies, laughing. The app does its job: Bolt records a top speed of 156kph. In between his bolts down the beach, the enduro star takes the opportunity to show off with an extravagant range of wheelies and donuts on the sand as a growing band of onlookers watches on. By the time the photographer puts down his camera, a huge crowd has gathered behind the metal railings that adorn the course for the famous race the following day. Bolt has been asked to take part in a drag race to round off day one of the weekend. His motorbike is joined by such a bewildering array of vehicles that you almost expect Dick Dastardly and Muttley to appear on the start line, alongside their Wacky Races colleagues. Essentially, it’s every kid’s dream: a beach race of less than a kilometre, with only one requirement – to finish as quickly as you possibly can. Bolt wins, streaking ahead of the opposition, his distinctive pink boots flashing past the crowds, who only have eyes for one man. More selfies, more cries of “Biiillllly” from behind the fences. More expectant kids ready their top lip in preparation for the Bolt pen and a temporary ’tache. “It’s becoming a thing, signing kids’ faces and drawing moustaches on them,” he says. “It’s actually harder than it looks to make both sides even. But I’ve had a lot of practice now.” Bolt smiles broadly as he wipes away the grains of sand that have flown into his own distinctive facial fur. He then pulls out a mini malt loaf, gulps it down and heads back to his trailer. Job done. Tomorrow he’ll tackle the three-hour beach race, with a cast list of amateur riders who just can’t wait to be on the same bill as motorbike royalty. N ot only in Weston-super-Mare but far beyond its borders, Billy Bolt is big news. It was relatively recently, in 2016, that he got his first taste of professional enduro, riding as a privateer and learning on the job – or “crashing my brains out,” as he Billy Bolt “I ride every day with a smile on my face. I like to show people that it’s not all serious” puts it, adding, “It’s been rapid growth since. A pretty wild ride.” Just two years later, in 2018, Bolt was a surprise winner of the inaugural World Enduro Super Series – which would later be renamed the FIM Hard Enduro World Championship – but then had to undergo leg surgery and miss most of the following season. Since his return, he’s won a world title every year. Riding indoors in Poland this March, Bolt took his third FIM SuperEnduro World Championship. And in late November the next one begins, providing the chance to add a fourth indoor crown to a CV that’s already full to bursting. Beach racing isn’t a natural environment for this 26-yearold; the enduro races that Bolt takes part in are far more brutal. The SuperEnduro series, for example, will see him ride over logs, sand, tyres, mud, and basically anything else you can fit inside an arena designed to be as tough, inhospitable and downright savage as possible. “SuperEnduro is pretty crazy,” Bolt says with a grin. “In a SuperEnduro race you know it’s seven minutes, 100-per-cent intensity, 200 heartbeats 32 THE RED BULLETIN
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Roaring success: celebrating its 40th anniversary, the Weston Beach Race attracts a diverse line-up of racers and machines, all united by a need for speed. Billy Bolt’s dad David (pictured above left, second from top) was among the many spectators at this year’s event in September 34 THE RED BULLETIN
Billy Bolt a minute, 40 seconds a lap, hard as you can, and hopefully everyone is OK at the end of it. It’s a motocross track and a building site thrown together.” During the outdoor season, known as Hard Enduro for good reason, the insanity continues. “Hard Enduro is gnarly, extreme, chaos, bikes flying everywhere – it’s the sort of sport that puts you in extreme survival situations,” he says. “Sometimes you set off and you have no idea how long it’s going to take. You could be out there for eight hours. You only have a GPS on your handlebars, and you just follow the line. “Indoors, it’s totally different: you could have 14 guys within six feet of each other, and if someone jumps further than anyone else is expecting, you can definitely have a motorbike on your head.” This is Bolt’s idea of a good time. “I ride every day with a smile on my face,” he says. “I like to show people it’s not all serious.” B orn in Wallsend, a town in North Tyneside just 8km east of Newcastle upon Tyne, Bolt is from an area of the country that’s synonymous with football. Wallsend Boys Club has produced some of England’s most celebrated players, including Alan Shearer, the Premier League’s all-time top goal-scorer. Bolt’s North East accent is still firmly intact, but despite playing football to a relatively high level throughout his days as a junior, there was only ever one sport that truly captured his imagination. “Where I’m from, if you don’t like football you get bullied,” he reveals. “Don’t get us wrong, I did like football. But for me it was always motorbikes; I was bike crazy.” Bolt sits in a sizeable trailer that he’s been lent for the weekend. He’s used to van life as he spends a sizeable chunk of his life in his own, travelling from race to race around Europe from his base in Andorra. Today, his home on wheels is parked on a grass area above the town’s 3km-long promenade. Bolt’s bed is unmade, and the trailer already looks lived in, but finding everything he needs only takes him seconds. Edmondson pops his head in, bringing with him the noise created by the incessant whirring of bike engines on the beach and the buzz of the 10,000-plus spectators who have converged on Weston-super-Mare for the weekend. The mechanic asks Bolt which tools he’ll need on the beach. He reels off a well-rehearsed list before continuing. “My dad and all his mates were always super into [bikes],” says Bolt. “They never really competed, but they would just go out and have fun. I was on the bike as soon as I can remember, and it was all I wanted to watch on TV. I’d watch Valentino Rossi, Dougie Lampkin and Travis Pastrana. They would be the guys I looked up to and admired.” Now Bolt is the man who thousands of admirers look up to. The rider has a big online presence, documenting large parts of his season on YouTube. His videos, which routinely attract more than 100,000 views, offer a glimpse into the enduro world but also take fans behind the scenes, allowing viewers to see just how tough these races can be on the day, and showing the physical toll they take on Bolt when he returns to the sanctuary of his hotel room afterwards. Recent titles include I crashed 15 times in one night! and The hardest race of my life!. Despite his lofty standing in the sport, Bolt is honest, funny, and doesn’t take himself too seriously. He’s already posted a vlog from his first day here in Westonsuper-Mare, which included spending £57 on three fish and chips; an al-fresco wee; trying (and failing) to ride a glorified golf buggy over the huge, man-made racecourse dunes, and discovering the folly of wearing brand-new white socks with Crocs on a rainy day at the seaside. “I feel like everyone feels they’re a part of my journey, because I try to be as open as possible and give as good an insight as I can,” he says. “YouTube really allows the audience to engage. I think that’s one of the reasons why I seem to be so loved when I come back home.” The crowd as Bolt leaves his trailer on this warm Saturday evening is at least eight deep. Wearing his trademark cap and Bermuda shorts, he signs a hat, a pair of crutches, a foot and a forearm. He grins for selfie upon selfie. Though the journey to becoming a multiple world champion hasn’t been easy, for the bike-obsessed Bolt there was never any other option. “It surprises a lot of people, but I found school “That was good,” he says with a grin, spitting out sand THE RED BULLETIN 35 RHL ACTIVITIES/CONWAYMX (1)
Billy Bolt “[Through YouTube] I feel like everyone feels they’re a part of my journey” relatively easy,” he says. “I got GCSEs, I got A-levels, and I enjoyed it. I was quite lucky, I didn’t have to try too hard to pass exams. I could mess about to a certain degree, getting into bother, but at the same time I was doing well enough to keep everybody happy. At the end of the day, all I really wanted to do was ride. “I was pretty aware of the sacrifices people had to make to give me what I had. We weren’t going hungry or living on the streets, far from it, but I had seen the hours my dad was working. He was an engineer for the Post Office. He actually hated his job, but one of the reasons he kept working was because he had access to a whole workshop with welding and painting facilities. He stuck at a job he really didn’t like for quite a few years just to keep my motorbikes going.” Many of Bolt’s own sacrifices have been bodily ones. “He was never put off by anything – he’d crash one week and then be back on the bike without blinking,” says Bolt’s dad David, who has travelled to Somerset with his two daughters to assist in the enduro star’s preparation for the afternoon’s race. “He’s just like his youngest sister – she dislocated her wrist at an event last week, but all she’s talked about today is getting back on the bike and getting out there again.” Bolt’s first brush with the brutal nature of the world he chose to enter came early. “I’ve got a few fingertips missing,” he reveals. “I did it in a [bike] chain when I was seven years old. I remember turning up the next week to watch, with my hand not in plaster but severely bandaged. As it would be – I did have a couple of fingers missing! I just remember that the only thing on my mind was that I was gutted I couldn’t ride that day. I wanted to be back out there as soon as possible. It’s just something that comes with [riding] – you accept [the injuries]. “I broke my leg in 2018 and had some nerve damage. I had drop foot [a condition where the sufferer has difficulty lifting the front part of their foot] with no movement in it for a year. Nerves are quite a scary thing to injure, because not many people know too much about them. That was the worst one by far. [But] I still rode. I did a year, basically, with no movement in my foot, then I stopped and had another surgery. “[My foot] works a little bit now, but it’s still not great. I can walk without any problem, but I can’t run. Well, I could, but if I did there’s a good chance I might end up rolling my ankle. To be fair, it’s a good excuse not to, because I didn’t enjoy [running] anyway!” B olt, a self-confessed lover of Greggs, doesn’t live any kind of monastic existence. There’s no discussion of paleo diets, or of daily gym sessions at dawn. But you don’t rise to the elite level that he’s managed to reach powered solely by sausage rolls and chicken bakes. Bolt knows what he needs to get through a race, a gruelling season. “I try to ride as much as possible – it’s where I’m happiest,” he says. “I don’t train that often off the bike. Don’t get us wrong, I don’t want to say I do nothing, because there is a certain level of fitness and strength that’s required. If I think I’m weak in a certain area, or lacking in something, I’ll spend more time in the gym. But I do most of my work on the bike.” This simple, almost old-school approach is certainly working. “He’s a real throwback in many ways,” says Jon Pearson, editor of enduro and offroad riding platform Enduro21.com. “Billy’s different. He was the first rider to win the World Championship [the World Enduro Super Series at the time, in 2018] and that really displayed his talents. He’s an old-fashioned rider, but his exceptional talent is on the logs in the SuperEnduro. He’s raised the bar. Full throttle: Bolt is a world champion in SuperEnduro (top) and Hard Enduro He makes it look so simple – even if he 36 THE RED BULLETIN FUTURE 7 MEDIA/RED BULL CONTENT POOL, FUTURE 7 MEDIA
YOU MAY BE READY PHYSICALLY, BUT IF YOU AREN’T READY MENTALLY TOO, YOU WON’T DO YOUR BEST “I enjoy riding motorbikes, riding them fast. I still feel it’s a privilege to do it every day” Work-life balance: in motorbike racing, nothing says ‘fun’ like popping a wheelie
38 THE RED BULLETIN Il a pu arriver à B-Boy Victor de perdre sa foi dans le breaking, mais chaque nouvel enjeu le remet en selle pour donner le max à nouveau. Il a pu arriver à B-Boy Victor de perdre sa foi dans le breaking, mais chaque nouvel enjeu le remet en selle pour donner le max à nouveau. Comfort zone: post-race, it’s time for Bolt to recharge – and plan his meal order at the golden arches
Billy Bolt “I get a lot out of just knowing I’ve performed my best” makes a mistake, he’s straight back in and winning by miles. “I’m not sure it’s bravery; it’s confidence. He knows his technique is right, but he’s a bloody strong rider. He muscles the bike. He’s able to use his body in the way that others can’t.” Though he loves speed and the thrill of finishing on the podium, Bolt says his performances are about more than where he finishes in a race. “I get a lot out of just knowing that I’ve performed the best I can,” he says. “I don’t want to say I’m not results-orientated, because I love winning, but I can win and feel like I haven’t rode good. Even if I win, I won’t always be in a good mood. The people around me understand that. “But generally it’s cool. I enjoy riding motorbikes, and I enjoy riding them fast. I still feel it’s a privilege to do it every day.” When asked about competing here, outside his usual “nine-to-five racing”, as he puts it, Bolt’s answer is simple: “I’m here for fun.” I t’s Sunday. The high winds that have concerned the organisers thankfully haven’t arrived, and riders prepare for the biggest race of the weekend beneath a cloudy sky. The race is a timed event, with the riders effectively attempting as many laps of the almost 10km course as they can inside three hours. The straight on the beach is followed by a gruelling series of sand hills designed to sap energy and add to the excitement. The elite riders have gathered on the start line, while the amateur enthusiasts, some wearing Minion masks over their helmets, others dressed as Super Mario, wait for the instruction to run to their bikes and join the queue. For Bolt, this is an opportunity to test himself against the best – Somersetborn rider Todd Kellett is a five-time champion at Weston-super-Mare – but for others it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get close to their heroes. The pits, set up on the beachfront, give an indication of the democratic nature of the event. Bolt’s corner includes everything needed for him to stop and refuel in the blink of an eye. Elsewhere, hulking would-be mechanics lug enormous jerry cans around, spilling most of the contents before they get anywhere near their intended target. One team attempt to stand their bike up by using an umbrella – with predictable consequences. The riders set off along the beach’s opening 2km straight before tackling the mammoth dunes. The scene is like something from the Mad Max movies. Riders pile up close to the first peak, their machines spitting out plumes of sand into the faces of those behind them as they battle their way around the unforgiving circuit. Bolt, meanwhile, whizzes by in third place, Edmondson holding up a sign telling him to do one more lap before refuelling. “We’ll try and do it every hour,” he says. “And it will be quick.” Bolt whizzes in, changes his goggles, has a couple of Haribo, then – whoosh – he’s off again. After little more than three hours, the race ends in the same chaotic nature it began. Riders zoom up the final dunes, a couple of them fall over, and the spectators – many of them now well-oiled themselves – shout to the riders. “Well, that was good,” Bolt says with a grin as he removes his sand-coated goggles and spits out a mouthful of the stuff. He eventually returns to his trailer, still caked head-to-toe in sand, holding a beer in one hand and what looks suspiciously like a kebab in the other. Bolt’s happy with a top-three finish and a place on the podium. He’s also had a full-body exfoliation. With the race done, Edmondson will be off to Italy soon to prepare the bike for the final race of the season in Spain in October. This summer, Bolt has already competed in Romania, the US, Austria and Serbia. He’ll be driving back to his home in Andorra later this week. “I’m not in the UK a whole lot any more,” he says. “It’s why I love coming back [to Weston-super-Mare] when I am, because I know the family will be here on race day and I’ll get the opportunity to catch up with them.” So, no champagne? No post-race party? “Sadly not,” he says. “I’m just going to drive to a friend’s house in the Midlands. I’ll probably have a cheeky McDonalds on the way back. I’ll go large this evening: Sweet Chilli Chicken Wrap meal, McChicken Sandwich meal, a McFlurry, and a coffee to keep me awake on the drive. I’ll be pretty exhausted tonight.” Glamour, it seems, isn’t a big part of the life of an enduro champion. But Bolt has different ambitions. Before starting that drive, he’ll work his way down the queue of fans that has formed outside his trailer. “I was always first in the line for an autograph session, being cheeky and trying to make my heroes laugh,” he says. “You just want people to enjoy themselves, like I did when I was a kid. That’s the most important thing for me. “At the end of the day, we’re not changing the world; we’re just playing with motorbikes.” Role model: Bolt wants his followers to have fun, just as he did as a young fan Instagram: @billybolt57 THE RED BULLETIN 39
Above and beyond Words EMINE SANER TIM PEAKE is one of the 628 people who have left Earth. To mark the release of his new book, which charts the human history of space travel, he reflects on the amazing stories of those who came before him, and what a new generation of astronauts may face ASTRONAUT TIM PEAKE, who in 2016 became the first Brit to complete a spacewalk (opposite). Spacewalking remains the most physically and mentally demanding task for any astronaut, and the one that carries the greatest risk 40 THE RED BULLETIN ALAMY, GETTY IMAGES
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loating in space, Tim Peake looked down at his boots and saw Western Australia going by, 400km below. Tethered to the International Space Station (ISS), he wiggled his toes – a surefire way to cure vertigo, apparently – and got on with his job of replacing part of the solar energy system. Following a nerveshredding three manual docking attempts, after the automatic system failed, the Sussex-born astronaut had arrived at the ISS in December 2015 for his six-month stay, which included wrestling himself into his spacesuit and becoming one of only around 200 humans who have ‘walked’ in space. Peake’s latest book, Space: The Human Story, celebrates the 628 men and women who have left Earth during six decades of space travel; it also looks ahead to the dawn of a new era and what the astronauts of the upcoming Artemis missions might face as they head back to the Moon and beyond. If the earliest astronauts were portrayed as daring pilots with the (white, male, military) image to match, in more recent times these more diverse explorers have the ultimate portfolio careers – as comfortable landing a space shuttle as doing dentistry, running science experiments, and cracking jokes in Russian. Here, Peake contemplates the big questions. What is the universe like? Is there life beyond our planet? And what happens when you smuggle a sandwich into space? the red bulletin: Your book looks back at the human history of space travel. Do you have a favourite historic astronaut? tim peake: I did a huge amount of research, and finding stories you didn’t know definitely brings you closer to all the astronauts, some of them less known than others. One I’d have loved to have met, going back to the [mid-1960s] Apollo era, was Pete Conrad – he must have had a wicked sense of humour. In his selection process, he was given a blank piece of paper by psychologists and asked to interpret it. Pete stared at it for an unusually long period of time, then handed it back, saying, “It’s upside down.” He also delivered a stool sample in a gift box with a ribbon. He was labelled ‘unsuitable’, but [fellow astronaut] Alan Shepard persuaded him to reapply the next time. He ended up being the third person to walk on the Moon. Have the qualities required to be an astronaut changed over time? Some things haven’t changed, and some requirements – as we look at the Artemis program – go back to the F [early-1960s] Gemini era of test sorties, because it’s a new spacecraft. Calmness under pressure shines through. There were so many instances, such as Neil Armstrong’s very cool handling in Gemini 8, where the spacecraft went completely out of control. Few astronauts would have been able to do what he did and regain control. Decision-making, calmness and meticulous attention to detail were skills they had in spades, and we try to emulate that. There’s extraordinary danger involved in space travel. Bravery must be a major requirement… It’s part of it. I felt this as a test pilot – we try to mitigate the risks, but you stare residual risk in the face and say, “We’re going to push the boundaries, go and do something nobody’s done before.” You’ve got to have the courage to say, “I’m prepared to accept those ‘what ifs’.” When they were selecting astronauts for the original Mercury Seven [in the late 1950s], they were simply looking at the brightest, best people who could get them onto the Moon in less than a decade. They weren’t looking at who’d be a good ‘public’ person – most military pilots are not used to [talking to] a camera. But today, in the era of social media, astronauts also need to be an ambassador for space, to be comfortable speaking in front of the camera. That’s something that has changed. ALAN SHEPARD in the capsule of Mercury-Redstone 3 on May 5, 1961, set to become the first American in space Tim Peake 42 THE RED BULLETIN NASA, GETTY IMAGES
SOVIET COSMONAUT VALENTINA TERESHKOVA, the first woman in space, aboard Vostok 5 on June 14, 1963; (below) the MERCURY SEVEN – Wally Schirra, Alan Shepard, Gus Grissom, Deke Slayton, John Glenn, Scott Carpenter and Gordon Cooper – pose with model spacecraft at a press conference in 1959 “You stare residual risk in the face and say, ‘We’re going to push boundaries’” Do changing ambitions in space have an impact on the sorts of people taking on these missions? During the Apollo era, the journey was everything. It was all about getting a man – as it was then – on the Moon. But today, getting to the Moon is just a means to an end, so that we can build a research facility. You need people with medical experience, dental training; you have to know how to strip and repair a computer, this plethora of jobs. We’ve taken those Apollo skills and heaped a whole load on top, and there is a much greater diversity in our astronaut corps. Where things will change again, as we look towards Mars, is the psychological profiling. Going to the Moon is a three-to-four-day journey and perhaps six months on the surface, but you can still see Earth. When you go to Mars [on a nine-month journey] and you can’t even see Earth, or it’s a tiny speck of light, that’s going to THE RED BULLETIN 43
Tim Peake have a psychological effect, and our selection process will have to reflect that. Maybe the corned beef sandwich might go down better these days. In 1965, NASA weren’t impressed when it was smuggled aboard… The astronauts had decided space food was so dreadful they were going to highlight it. John Young had the sandwich in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see what [crewmate] Gus Grissom’s reaction would be. I don’t think Gus was that impressed, and certainly nobody at Mission Control was. It went all the way to Washington, with massive ramifications about discipline. Thankfully, I think we’ve relaxed a bit over the years, and a little bit of humour has crept in. When Scott Kelly wore a gorilla suit on the ISS [in 2016], NASA thought it was amusing. What will this new era of space exploration do for us on Earth? We’re on the brink of an era when space can become a large part of the solution to our problems on Earth. Artemis is very much a research-driven mission, and the technologies that will develop will have benefits – things like the water purification and food-growing systems. In terms of ongoing research, Low Earth Orbit [where the ISS is] is an active space where we can do things such as grow protein crystals to research diseases and develop new drugs. Then the potential for things like energy – solar farms in space – becomes economically viable with rockets like Starship. We could have massive structures that can beam down solar energy to ground stations, for example. Your book brings to life the split-second, life-ordeath decisions an astronaut may have to make, such as Wally Schirra’s cool head on the launchpad (in 1965) when the launch failed, meaning his fuel-filled rocket was at risk of exploding. He should have ejected, but decided not to… Absolutely, that gut feeling. When you practise an emergency in a simulator, it’s a textbook emergency with a textbook solution. In real life, emergencies stack up on top of each other, or things go wrong in a different way. The textbook answer was to abort in that scenario, but Schirra had the presence of mind to think, “No, that’s not the right call.” Subsequently, he found out that had they aborted, it could have killed them [sparks from the explosive ejector seats would have ignited their oxygen-filled spacesuits, which NASA hadn’t considered]. So it was a life-saving decision. That’s what you get from experience. For all the science and rationality, there are superstitions. You had a ceremonial pee – a ritual that began way back with Yuri Gagarin – against the rear wheel of the bus on your way to the launchpad in Kazakhstan… The Russians are hugely superstitious, so they’ll make sure you do everything according to the plan on launch day, from signing the door [on the room at the Cosmonaut Hotel], to the Russian Orthodox blessing, to the departure breakfast. Peeing on the tyre of the bus is part of following in [legendary cosmonaut] Yuri Gagarin’s footsteps, doing exactly what he did on launch day when everything went right, so let’s not change it. You embrace it and go along with it. It’s all part of the culture of spaceflight – and I was glad to have that last pee stop. Why do we still send humans, rather than robots, into space? It could be easier with robots – safer, a bit cheaper – though not much when you look at how sophisticated robotic missions are becoming. If you’re sending robots to do something that we cannot do ourselves – to go and research the moons of Jupiter or Saturn – that’s fantastic. But when it comes to places we do know how to get to, like Mars, then I believe there’s a huge benefit in sending humans. We’re very capable beings. Despite how much technology has moved on, we’re still more capable than the smartest AI robot we can currently design, in terms of general intelligence. Then there’s the human desire to explore. The essence of who we are as a species has always been about pushing the boundaries and exploring the next frontier. AMERICAN ALAN SHEPARD returns to Earth and is hoisted from the Mercury capsule “Space could become a large part of the solution to problems on Earth” 44 THE RED BULLETIN NASA
THE MERCURY SEVEN in their iconic pressure suits in 1959 THE RED BULLETIN 45
The idea of astronauts as fallible humans, rather than superhuman machines, was brought to light by the rebellious behaviour of the Apollo 7 crew in 1968, who complained endlessly and refused orders. They went a bit wild, didn’t they? It can just take the wrong group of people together to change the dynamics completely. There are no bust-ups, but you definitely get some crews on the space station whose work efficiency is just amazing, and then there are other crews who are doing a good job but not excelling. Over the years, of course, there have been a few examples, such as the Apollo 7 and also the Skylab 3 crew [who, in 1973, complained about the workload, went on strike and grew beards]. There was friction, and things were not going well on that mission between ground and crew. These things do happen, and I think they continue to be studied. What was your spacewalk like? It was incredible to stare down at Earth. To have a thin visor between you and that view was the absolute pinnacle of the mission. It’s beautiful – Earth is stunning at day and night. In the daytime you see Earth’s natural features, and then at night you see the lights of towns and cities. It’s constantly changing, a very dynamic planet, GUS GRISSOM, ED WHITE AND ROGER CHAFFEE, the crew of Apollo 1, during capsule training THE ARTEMIS II CREW was announced in April this year: Christina Koch, Victor Glover, Reid Wiseman and Jeremy Hansen. NASA administrator Bill Nelson said, “We are ushering in a new era of exploration for a new generation of star sailors and dreamers – the Artemis generation” 46 THE RED BULLETIN NASA
different weather systems. The quality of light is incredible. It’s a light that, in all honesty, hopefully we never see on Earth, because it’s the light you’d see if a nuclear bomb went off. It’s the whitest, brightest, purest light that we think can exist in the universe, coming from the Sun. Because it’s pure white, it means that the colours you see are very pure, too. So you’re seeing a bright white light, very pure colours, and very crisp, sharp shadows, because there’s no atmosphere to kind of blur the edges. When you’re floating out there in space, can you get your head around the vastness of the universe beyond? The beauty of space really is the beauty of seeing something like Earth against that vast black backdrop. It’s the blackest black you’ve ever seen. Space can be hostile; it’s quite intimidating and “It was incredible to stare down at Earth… The quality of light is so pure” scary. But when you see something like Earth against that background, it’s beautiful. Is there life beyond ours? I think there’s massive potential for life, all over the universe, and some of that life will have developed into something complex and intelligent. Question is, will we ever find out? It’s a vast place. Some of the astronauts you write about embraced spirituality. Did your experiences make you contemplate something bigger? I’m very aware of what we don’t know. We know very little: we’re not sure what happened in the beginning of the universe, we’re not sure what’s going to happen at the end, and everything in between is up for grabs because our theories are not quite there. It didn’t make me more spiritual, but it certainly puts things in a different perspective. I think it allows you to connect more. That’s what I felt – a connection with the universe. It’s easy to forget that we’re part of nature and we’re on this planet, in the universe. We’re part of the stars; we’re stardust, really. Being out there in space helps you make that connection. Space: The Human Story by Tim Peake is out now, published by Penguin; timpeake.com AMERICAN GENE CERNAN during an Apollo 17 mission, covered in lunar dust, which has an electrostatic charge and clings to everything Tim Peake THE RED BULLETIN 47
Making it BIG
In creating gigantic, spray-painted, photorealistic murals in cities across the world, street artist ZABOU has found a unique way to study the human condition Words RUTH McLEOD Grand designs: street artist Zabou, photographed for The Red Bulletin in Wicklow, Ireland, in October this year 49 PATRICK BOLGER
they want on the mural. It’s part of the game. If it gets tagged, it gets tagged.” The fact her labour of love could be defaced at any time is part of the reason the 33-year-old has fallen in love with street art. “I love that if you decide right now that you want to take a spray can or a pen and go tag my mural, you can do it,” she says. “It’s open to everyone.” Still, Zabou is pleased to find her mural preserved, and not only for the reason that it’s a tribute to a musician she loves, or that it took her several ninehour days and many cans of spray paint to create; it goes back to the democracy of the medium. “It’s the fact everyone is able to come and see street art. It’s free. You can literally experience culture and arts on your doorstep, in the public space. That’s really, really important. In a world where so many commercial images are imposed on you, having art right there gives you another choice of something to look at. That’s powerful.” If you’ve walked around London in the past decade, chances are you’ll have seen Zabou’s murals. She has also worked extensively across the rest of the UK and Ireland, and in Europe; her work has appeared everywhere from Austria to Albania, sprayed on walls either offered to her privately or as commissions from companies and charities. She’s a master with a spray can, able to create these huge, detailed, lifelike paintings freehand while on a scaffold or scissor lift, armed only with an A4 printout as a guide. Zabou works for hours at a time, in all weathers, her face hidden to prevent herself from becoming public property like her art: “When you’re painting in a public space, a lot of people don’t have boundaries. I’ve had people join me while they’re FaceTiming their mum!” T his life is one Zabou never imagined was possible. Born in the small town of Saumur in western France, Zabou – a nickname she gave herself at the age of 10 – began drawing as soon as she was old enough to sit up. But becoming a fulltime artist, let alone a street artist, seemed unrealistic. “I was always like, ‘I won’t be able to make a living as an artist, so what am I going to do?’ Where I’m from is a really small, conservative city. There’s not too much urban culture, not even a sticker on a lamppost. I took an ordinary path, found a day job, did the sensible thing.” But a move to the UK to study at the University of the Arts London (UAL) lit a Zabou O n a grey day in September, bright pinks and oranges shout for attention from an otherwise grey wall down a narrow side street in Hoxton, east London. A 5m-high painting of jazz musician Nubya Garcia’s face almost commands passers-by to look at her. Eyes closed, saxophone to her lips, Garcia looks so lifelike it’s almost possible to imagine that the wail of music on the wind emanates from her rather than the café on the corner. Leaning against the wall opposite is French street artist Zabou, wrapped up against the weather, eyeing her creation for the first time since she painted it in 2020. “It’s survived really well!” she says. “People have been fairly respectful with their tags. But you can’t get too attached, you know, because it doesn’t belong to me any more. Anyone can do anything Art and soul: Zabou’s painting of Becca, a young footballer. Viewing the finished work together was “a very powerful moment” for both of them 50 THE RED BULLETIN