Interview With a Daredevil: Lucas Brunelle

Lucas Brunelle has filmed 150 alleycat races, usually with two cameras strapped to his helmet, and has been accused of glorifying dangerous riding. Is he ruining cycling's image for everyone--or just trying to save us?

November 30, 2011
Photo by Heather McGrath

You grew up in an affluent Cape Cod beach town. How did you become the poster boy for gonzo riding?
I wanted an alternative to the homogenized way that people did things there, so I played hooky on my BMX bike. One of my first cars was a classic police cruiser. My friends and I used to bomb down the highway with the blue lights blaring. Sometimes we'd break into Walter Cronkite's bowling alley. I got my Cat 2 license when I was 16 and won dozens of races. In college I worked as a messenger and became obsessed with riding in traffic. You can't replicate the mobility of a bike, not even on a motorcycle or in a helicopter.



Your new movie, Lucas Brunelle: Line of Sight, offers up hair-raising footage from Beijing, Boston, Dublin, New York, and Tokyo. What's the craziest stunt you've pulled?
In Miami, we rode on I-95 for 2 miles, and crossed three lanes of traffic. The cars were coming behind us at 60 or 70 miles an hour. When you're riding like that, the endorphins create this heightened sense of awareness. You notice a car veering in a distant lane or someone braking on an overpass.


Do you ride like that even when you're picking up groceries?
Yes. Every seat I have is as sharp as a razor, so you always play to roll.


Last year you spent $80,000 of your own money filming alleycats. Why?
Almost daily, I get e-mail from people who tell me I've inspired them to ride more. And they're taking risks in their lives. One person has cancer; now she's using her savings to travel. Another was in a relationship with someone she didn't love; she left. For a lot of people, "No, you can't" is a motto. I'm saying, "Hey, you can live life on your own accord."


Ever get hurt?
I once got T-boned and had a bunch of surface wounds. It looked gnarly, but I was okay. It was Halloween so I got compliments on my face. But my worst accidents were from amateur road races. You have Cat 3s taking a rookie line and single-handedly taking out two dozen riders. They don't have the handling skills that a messenger does. When a pace car abruptly stops, you have to go around it instead of braking, and they won't do it. I still have road rash from 10 years ago—one time I scraped my hip down to the bone.



And you've gotten how many traffic tickets?
About 20. One time in San Francisco, a friend and I had a competition to see who could get a ticket first. I called 911 and said, "Hey, there's a cyclist on the highway who's going the wrong way." Then I went the wrong way in the breakdown lane. I won.


Do you worry that you're making drivers hate cyclists?
Mostly it's other riders who get pissed. On the way back from a club ride in Boston, one guy started screaming about my riding. I told him, "Screw off," and he actually tried to take me out, pressing his front wheel against mine. It doesn't take much to set these guys off. They feel threatened. But motorists generally don't have a problem with us. We're not blocking traffic like Critical Mass. We know when we're in the way, which most riders don't.


You own an IT company with more than a million dollars in revenue. Has that made you reconsider your riding style?
Yes. I used to compete fiercely in alleycat races, and I'd base moves more on luck than on skill. After some close calls I thought, "I have people working for me; some of them have families." Now, when I get to an intersection I'll swoop around the cars rather than squeeze through.


Are you ever scared, riding like this?
I'm always scared—even if I'm going to the coffee shop I'm scared. You never know—the Lord has your number.


What do drivers do when you skitch off them?
They are usually paying attention to something else. I almost know the drivers who are going to see me. If I grab onto an older, mint-condition Porsche 911, or a hot rod, the guy's going to be aware. But a minivan or a Suburban—those people never see you. They're on their phones, or they've got a computer.


Do you own a car?
I still have the police car. Haven't driven it in years. But I love cars. Fuck bike advocacy. It's the cars that make shit fun. Without cars, we couldn't do skitches off SUVs. We couldn't get bruised and cut up; we couldn't commiserate. I love traffic. It's an evil river, sure, but I love the city streets.

Tags: Bike racing