A special interview, some gift ideas, a film we enjoyed, and the usual fluff

The human body, which has such graceful curves, does very few round things.
Of course, we can twiddle our thumbs, but that doesn’t get us very far.
Riding a bicycle means making circles.
You have to think about it when you pedal, as a small call to order:
the movement of the legs is circular, we must grant it this grace
and pay attention to turning the cranks properly.
Cyclists perceive this very clearly, and as soon as the rhythm drops,
as soon as fatigue takes over, they say they are pedaling square.

The cyclist is his own gyroscope. He not only generates movement, but also produces balance.
The faster he spins his legs, the more that balance appears harmonious: he is whirling.
Whirling uphill, for example, means being attached to a nylon thread that will carry you all the way to the top.

The cyclist’s balance is a circular balance.
If the wheels turn well, the legs turn well too, and if the legs turn well,
the head works well as well.
When something isn’t turning the right way, I pedal to climb back up the chain of balance,
to give my gyroscope a little nudge.
Since I possess a fundamentally depressed nature, against which I build bastions and fortresses of good spirits
and work, the bicycle is my fundamental metaphor, my model of depth.
As long as I pedal, I am in balance; as long as I pedal, I function well.

To cultivate the desire for something we need is to perform an act of human happiness.
Need is an imperious, obscure thing that defines a man’s dependence on others.
Identifying it and wanting it means being able to call oneself human.

This is the secret of culture, the secret of cooking, the secret of goodness.

It is also the secret of the tiny Fournel on his bicycle in the vastness of the landscape,
miraculously balanced on his two wheels, trying to catch up with his own shadow.

from Me and My Bicycle, Paul Fournel, Mulatero Press

We interviewed Andrea Scavezzon, founder, together with his brothers Martino and Emilio, of Fratelli Scavezzon, a shop that is much more than a place to buy bicycles. 
It is a brotherhood, a den of rebels who have chosen the bicycle to build their barricades
against conformity and the harshness of everyday life.
Echoing Paul Fournel, it is a place where bastions and fortresses of good spirits are built.

When BAM! was born, 13 years ago, Andrea Scavezzon was one of the first to say to us, “I’m in, what do you need?”
And for that, we will always be grateful.
But that is a personal anecdote, and it matters little. What truly matters, we believe, is that over the years the Scavezzon brotherhood deserves credit for having guided so many people toward a hedonistic, joyful approach to cycling, one in which the bicycle does not matter for its lightness, but for its immaterial substance: the kind that leads us to experience places, scents, and encounters.
Whenever we hear talk of a crisis in the cycling world, we tell ourselves that perhaps we should start again from places like Fratelli Scavezzon, where along with a bike you are often “sold” an invitation to lunch, a travel tip, or simply a story—while you try to feel freer than life has so far allowed you to be.
On a bike.

Our interview with Andrea Scavezzon is here. We hope you enjoy it.
👇👇👇👇

🚀 A few beautiful and interesting things. Or just interesting. Or just beautiful.  🚀

🔧 Tech – Bikepacking Awards 2025
Our friends at Bikepacking.com have selected the best products of 2025.
Beautiful things for riding far away.
Bikes, bags, components, tents, and lots of other useful little things. 😎

😎 Bikes + Skis in Iceland
It’s no secret that we have a soft spot for anyone
who uses a bike to go and take care of a snowy slope,
then carve some nice turns on it.
That’s why we loved A hundred words for wind, which tells the story of a fresh,
ski-focused bikepacking adventure in Iceland.

❤️ You Can Lean on the Void
Maurizio “Manolo” Zanolla is a climber who wrote the history of climbing,
opening routes that were unthinkable at the time, and sometimes still are today.

His autobiography is a magnificent book, in which Manolo tells of a poor childhood
and a youth in which climbing “saved his life.”
It’s not a book weighed down by tiring heroism, as sometimes happens,
but an authentic story of an intelligent person, of a life lived in search of balance.

You can find his book Eravamo Immortali
(Manolo is also a passionate cyclist, sometimes a traveler, and sooner or later we’ll bring him to BAM!)

Tech – The Archetype of the Touring Saddle
Many of us have it on our touring bikes.
It takes the shape of our noble buttocks and then becomes the most comfortable saddle of all.
We’re talking about the  Brooks England B17, now renewed and more beautiful than ever,
also available in new colors.

🌍 BECAUSE WE’RE NOT JUST TRAVELERS

🎬The Summit of the Gods
Another mountain story, intertwining the tale of Robert Mallory
with that of an imaginary Japanese alpinist, obsessed with his passion—and perhaps
with death.

A beautiful, delicate, poetic film, perfect even for those who don’t count mountaineering
among their weekend (or lifetime) hobbies.

You can find it on Netflix.