After a brief escape from urban dwellings, Callum has returned to shepherd you (beloved reader) through a day of e-bike discussions, World Championships updates and occasional bouts of silliness

Seth Dunwoody delivered an emotional and touching interview as he put cycling and life into perspective following his crash during Monday's Under-23 time trial World Championships in Montreal. The Irish rider, joining Bahrain Victorious in 2027, is the current road national champion but endured a to...

For many years, Wiggle was the first place most people would look when searching for cycling equipment and apparel, from spare tubes, tools, repair kits and affordable dhb cycling shorts and jerseys through to helmets, shoes, saddles, pedals, pumps, frames and entire bikes. It was a one-stop Amazon for bike riders. You even used to get a little packet of sweets with each delivery. But while Wiggle seemed all-powerful, behind the scenes elements were failing and eventually the wheels fell off. The company went into administration three years ago, was subsequently acquired by Frasers Group for a bargain and now, as we reported last week, even the URL has disappeared, along with the once-ubiquitous logo. The entire brand has seemingly been swallowed by another subsidiary of the Fraser Group: Evans Cycles. So, what does the demise of the major player in the online cycling market mean? Why did it happen, where are riders spending their money now, and how has it impacted other retailers in the bike businesses? Obviously, the relentless rise of online retail within the cycling industry epitomised by Wiggle was not welcomed by all. Cycling shops, especially traditional and small independent stores, couldnt compete on price with a massive company that operated on an industrial scale with comparatively small overheads. Of course, what web purchasers saved in discounts they lost in service and expertise, but still the market became increasingly challenging. Some shops, including many with a long histories like Brixton Cycles, sadly shut, with the 'survive to 25' mantra wearing thin, but others doubled down on their bespoke credentials and/or evolved to offer online sales as well as in-store service. And finally this adaptability and tenacity appears to have paid some dividends.This has been a pretty good year for the cycle industry, says Mike Rice, CEO of Balfes, which operates 12 bike shops across London and the South East, and also trades online. Like other similar-sized businesses, Balfes have been buffeted by some big headwinds in recent years, but Rice sounded very positive when Cycling Weekly spoke to him this week. Data from the Bicycle Association has shown month-on-month growth throughout the year, and August was one of the highest grossing months, he told me. I think the cycle industry is returning to a growth mode and its in a healthier position than it has been for years in the post-COVID era.His sentiments are backed up by the recently released accounts of Sigma Sports, which reveal the company made a profit last year, for the first time since 2021. Rice reports an increase in sales both in-store and online. We've adapted our product range to fill some of the voids that had been created by the demise of Wiggle Chain Reaction. We now have around 70,000 active SKUs on our website, and over time were looking to grow that. But at Balfe we operate a single pricing policy, so the price you see on the web is the price you pay in store. It's our duty to give a consistent offering.Pronto Bikes Frome Store (Image credit: Courtesy of Pronto Bikes )This last point seems key. Sales online is generally driven by price, observes Justin Hoy, MD of Pronto Bikes in Frome, Somerset. Hoy has completely eschewed web sales because of the pressures to discount in the online marketplace, but his company is growing and has very advanced plans to open a second store in Ringwood before the end of this year. I don't want to be in a price war with Merlin, Wiggle, Sigma Sport or whoever, he says. It's a lot of work for little gain. It seems all those businesses that have been big online, have either gone bankrupt or are really struggling. To me, there's something wrong with that business model. We announced that we'd be opening Ringwood a couple of weeks ago, and a couple of days later Primera closed down. But I think they've been suckered down that line of the internet and well, you can only get to a certain point. I mean, even Planet X is gone.We're growing, which is great. But if we're suddenly making less margin, because we've got to match whoever else is online, we're going to be busy fools. It's not financially viable to continue like that.Hoy has taken a very different approach. We have set ourselves up as a community, he tells me. Our business is not just about offering products that people want to buy, but offering them the ability to meet other people and go riding together. People don't join the cycle industry to get rich, because it's not a massively lucrative thing for anyone. They join it because they like riding bikes. And we love riding bikes. We opened in Frome in Covid, and started a club off the back of the shop: Pronto CC. Because of Covid, we were meeting in the car park across the road and groups of six would do a little chain gang ride. The first week we announced it, 30 people turned up. And then word got round, and three weeks later we had 85 people rock up for this chain gang ride. Soon we got to the point where were having Christmas parties with 150 people, which is brilliant.You feed the shop by people coming in, and it being have a place to meet. We've got a cafe in here, so it's a nice place for people to sit and sit and chill out and drink a cup of coffee mid-ride, or to meet to go for a ride. For Hoy, selling kit online at discounted prices but without the service is the antithesis of the community-based business he has worked hard to build. If people want to buy things online, that will happen, he admits, but says something gets lost along the way.Pinarello bikes in Pronto Bikes' Frome Store (Image credit: Courtesy of Pronto Bikes)We've done super well with Pinarello, because they don't allow you to sell online. You're not allowed to ship a Pinarello bike. That's great, from my point of view, and its why the brand has grown. The customer sees the value in that product, because they've got to come into a shop, they've got to be fitted to it. They get to pick it up and they get to experience that sense of collection. It's not just opening a parcel."And when people come into a bricks-and-mortar store like Pronto Bikes, they get the benefit of many years experience and knowledge. We've been in the bike industry long enough to know what's going on, says Hoy. Tony [from Torke Cycling], one of the best bike fitters in the world, works from here. People fly in from bike shops around the world to get taught by Tony. And we stock up to 15,000 worth of shoes, because everyone's feet are different. [An online outfitter] will just sell someone a pair of shoes because they can, but we want to be able look at someone's feet and sell them the shoe that fits them best. It adds real value to what you offer, and it's the right thing to do.

The World Championships junior riders take centre stage on Tuesday. Following the Elite and then U23 time trials on Sunday and Monday, it's the turn of the junior riders in Montreal. Kicking off with the Junior Men's time trial, the event gets underway at 6:18pm CET before the women's event follows...

18-year-old Belgian Seff Van Kerckhove was set to take part in this weeks junior world time trial and road race championships in Montreal before the crash, the second time hes been hit by a motorist in under a year

Wout van Aert and Mathieu van der Poel were among the last of the World Championships contenders to arrive in Montreal for the World Championships road race, with the Belgian and Dutch pair facing a race against time to adjust to a new time zone before the gruelling race. Wout van Aert finished the...

Midday had rolled around by the time the view finally opened up beyond my handlebars. The sun bathed the surrounding fields, casting everything in a golden-green hue. With the soft crunch of gravel under my wheels mingling with the birdsong, it was hard to believe I'd left inner-city London that morning. Thatched cottages were the only buildings I was passing now, each a smudge of grey-brown against a cloudless sky. We were just beyond the halfway point in North London Dirt (NLD), a 70-mile out-and-back charity ride from Stoke Newington, connecting the city's secret off-road routes with the Hertfordshire countryside that lies beyond. A 100-mile option was available for those wanting an even harder endurance test.Brothers Andrew and Phil Diprose founded North London Dirt in 2017. Initially a fundraiser for their local church and community centre, the event grew rapidly. Combining Andrew's design skills with Phil's talent for sniffing out the most rogue off-road segments, NLD became as stylish as it was exciting. It served as a launch pad for riders seeking to explore their city in new ways - finding secret gravel routes that unfurl from the inner city, before sharing a beer and pizza in the sunshine.I found NLD at a moment when I was itching to get out into the countryside. Spring had arrived and the city's trees were full of blossom, but I had noticed myself longing for the open fields - and their cycling trails - which had been the playgrounds of my younger life. Having moved to the city in my 20s, I'd assumed off-road was no longer available, but I was about to find out that within easy reach was a network of connecting alleyways, parks and riverside singletrack - edgelands waiting to be discovered by bike.(Image credit: Archie Bromfield)The term "edgelands" was coined by the British environmentalist Marian Shoard in her 2002 essay of the same name. She describes these peripheral places as a "mysterious no-man's land" that we encounter on our way out and beyond. Rarely are they deliberately explored. Shift your view and these edgelands become something different: outsider spaces; sanctuaries for wildlife pushed to the boundaries; routes that tie the city together; a special "urban-rural interface". For cyclists on gravel bikes, edgelands provide a lesser-known yet vast playground.Heading out of the city limitsHow to find your own edgelandsWhile we might not have the expanse of gravel routes available to American riders, the UK has some great hidden gems if you know where to look. But how can we go about finding our own extra-urban, off-road routes?According to Phil Diprose, your greatest assets are the ones already at your fingertips: begin by looking at Google Maps around the area youd like to route-plan, and then drop down into it on Street View. Where are the shortcuts that could take you from a cul-de-sac into an open field? Could you pull off a canal towpath into some woodland singletrack? If youre willing to put in the hours to perfect the route, nothing is better than scoping out your proposed trail in person.While Phil chooses happy accidents as his navigation tool of choice, for those of us seeking to find off-road routes in cities were not yet familiar with, it can be a challenge. When I lived in Manchester for a while, online forums helped me find rides. These are routes built from local knowledge, many of which dont even come with a GPX file. One such route took a tour along the river Irwell past the velodrome along the canals and onto Clayton Vale via offshoots of man-made, off-road trails. From there, the trail joins another reused railway that leads on to the Sett Valley Trail. The options, it seems, are endless: you just have to go looking for them.We'd left the ride HQ at 9am, rolling north and cresting hills that teased us with views of distant woodlands. As we made our way out of the urban sprawl, we weaved along narrow bike paths before reaching the first off-road section. From there, the ride knitted together a sequence of wooded sections, muddy descents and short, sharp ascents.We were a motley crew. I was aboard a pistachio-green Kona Dr Dew, adorned with a slow-growing collection of stickers, including my favourite 'allez, allez, allez' hot-pink Ribble Outliers logo. Navigating with our group's only Garmin, Archie led the way on a blue Cannondale Topstone. Chris followed on what he called a "parts bin special," built around a Ragley Big Wig frame, an hlins fork, and mismatched wheels and brakes. Riding with me at the back was Mike, a former editor of Dirt magazine, who was fittingly riding a full-suspension Whyte T129. Faster groups tore past us, skimming effortlessly over the loose surface, but we met slower groups too, made up of road riders adventuring beyond their usual city rides.For the first time in NLD history, the 2026 edition came with perfect weather. The early May conditions struck the perfect balance: cool in the morning, but steadily climbing to 20C, warm enough to ride in a short-sleeved jersey for the rest of the day, raincoats undisturbed in our pockets. Bad weather had come to haunt the event. Phil recounted the "biblical rain" of edition three, and "the deluge" of number six, which saw groups of riders sheltering as they strove to evade raindrops so big they were visible in his photos. At least it ensured those editions were memorable, he added with a characteristic optimism - describing NLD as "type-two fun". "It's like love songs," he grinned. "No one sings about being happy."(Image credit: Archie Bromfield)As the route curved around an orchard, we gathered speed, twisting and turning on a now flowing gravel track before cutting back briefly onto the road. A beep from Archie's Garmin alerted us to the fact we'd veered off-track. After a quick about-turn, we were back on course, with no one any less cheerful for the short detour."I like to think of it as an urban fox sneaking through the urban and suburban bits without anyone else knowing he's there."Phil DiproseFor the Diprose brothers, the biggest challenge of organising the annual off-road event around North London is maintaining variety. The first edition of NLD was simply about escaping London as quickly as possible, but as the years rolled on, their ambitions shifted. NLD became more about seeking out the hinterlands where urban and natural landscapes meet, hunting for "slightly weird places," Phil explained.Each year, the task is to make locals see their back lanes and gravel segments anew, surprising even the riders who think they already know this corner of the world. "I like to think of it as an urban fox sneaking through the urban and suburban bits without anyone else knowing he's there," Phil mused. "Most of the people on the roads don't know that we're sending a group of gravel cyclists down this path that's right next to them - they don't realise we're there."(Image credit: Archie Bromfield)The route out of London certainly felt secret. We were largely alone, save for the occasional group of gravel riders speeding past in a cloud of dust. In a part of the country where it can feel hard to get away from traffic and crowds, North London Dirt is a reminder that it's possible to find the path less travelled and cobble together a full day of riding barely touching tarmac. "We realised that where we were riding were actually edgelands," Andrew continued. "For people who aren't blessed with the South Downs or the beauty of the Forest of Dean, we have to find the rubbish version, the grittiest version of gravel; behind a factory, or down the side of a canal."Linking the green spacesThe routes Phil devises are sprinkled with "happy accidents"; post-apocalyptic industrial land or a hole in a fence used to link two pieces of off-road. But he uses more orthodox methods of navigation, too. GPS is, he told me, his "weapon of choice", used in unison with Google Maps and Google Street View to catch a glimpse of what the trails might look like before he checks them out himself. "There's so much around where you live," he continued. "Give yourself the time to go and explore, look online to see if there are any green spaces that could be linked together - what mini paths can you jump between? Some of them are not worth going to, but it's always interesting, and you can always find something you weren't expecting."(Image credit: Archie Bromfield)Five hours in the saddle and an agonising 10km bumping along cobbled towpaths later, we rolled back to the church to find 300 riders eating pizza in the sunshine. Phil and Andrew stood at the entrance, looking out proudly over the community they had built. "London riders have so much rich culture," Andrew told me, "but what we don't have are rolling hills. London's more like a bubblegum-footed pigeon - it shows its resilience in gravel."Resting in the sun beside our dusty bikes, the genius of the route finally clicked. I had spent years yearning for the open countryside, completely unaware that a sprawling off-road escape was waiting right here on my doorstep.North London DirtNorth London Dirt (NLD) is a self-supported, mixed-terrain charity cycling event that celebrates the thrill of finding adventure on the edges of the city. Typically covering a 70-mile (110km) mystery route, the ride transitions seamlessly from urban alleys and B-roads to sweeping suburban gravel and woodland singletrack. Entry costs 45. The event always starts and finishes at the St Marys Community Centre in Stoke Newington (London, N16) and for good reason. All proceeds from NLD directly support the centre, which provides vital local resources including a food bank, a migrant centre, and a homeless shelter. Riders are traditionally rewarded at the finish line with well-earned pizza, craft beer, and a buzzing community atmosphere. For more information, follow NLD updates on their Instagram page: @northlondondirt.