Lea Davison, an American mountain bike racing icon, has announced her retirement from the World Cup circuit in early 2022. My career, like so many others, has been shaped by Lea as she helped blaze a trail on the international racing scene for American women. I first met Lea in 2013 at Specialized headquarters when I was a senior in high school. I expected Lea to be serious, a robotic image of the discipline that matched my perception of elite athletes at the time. But from the moment she shook my hand and smiled, I knew she was so much more. Lea was happy. She laughed and told stories, and while she was clearly striving for mastery of her craft, she showed even more clearly how much she loved him. I wanted to be like her.
A year later, I had the opportunity to become Lea’s teammate and I jumped at the chance. I signed with Specialized and over the next five years Lea and I became inseparable. We pre-ridden courses together, planned adventure rides between races, and slept about six inches apart in tiny European hotel rooms in twin beds we could barely pull apart. For me, traveling and training with one of my idols was a dream come true. But looking back, I’m amazed at how warmly and wholeheartedly Lea invited me and took me under her wing. The experiences we shared and the lessons I learned from looking up to Lea had a profound impact on my life and career.
Of all the experiences I’ve shared with Léa, one in particular stands out. It started at the start of the 2016 Olympic season when Léa sent me a package by post with a note. It was a Nike t-shirt with the Olympic logo on it from his stay in London. “Olympic Team 2012” was typed in white font inside a red circle around the Olympic rings. “It could be you,” Lea wrote in the note. I wore this jersey every day in training, pushing a little harder thinking my extra rep in the gym or my interval on the bike could really make a difference. She believed, so maybe I could too.
At the time of the first race of the season, Lea and I flew to Cairns, Australia. It took three connections and an airport transfer to get there, so we swapped snacks, compared notes on Beyoncé’s latest album, and took a nap until we finally landed. When we arrived at the hotel, we were excited to stay in condos with kitchenettes – until we saw that our condo only had one room. Our teammate took the upstairs bedroom, which left Lea and I sleeping in a glorified closet with two fold-out twin beds about a foot apart.
“I guess the Olympic year is starting,” Lea said with a laugh. When people think of professional athletes chasing an Olympic dream, they don’t imagine rollaway beds in a closet halfway around the world.
On trips like these, Lea and I have complemented each other perfectly. I’ve always been a planner. I want to know where I’m going, how I’m going to get there, and preferably one or two places to stop for snacks along the way. Especially as a young athlete, I tended to push too hard and cling too tightly to fixed results and a naive idea of what the discipline looked like. I wanted to stay in control. Lea, on the other hand, remains in the mystery of it all. She chooses her own path and trusts him, while always leaving a little room for something magical and unexpected to happen. My parents nicknamed her “free range” because she’s the kind of person who has to be able to come and go as she pleases, not the kind to follow a strict schedule or a rigid plan. In some ways, we balanced each other out, which made us great teammates. When we were together, things always seemed to work out.
During this week in Australia, we spent the days riding to and from the course, analyzing every rock and root to choose our perfect lines for race day. I kept Lea on time and she made sure that when I started to get too rigid or anxious, she would take me for a walk to the ocean or to get an ice cream. By the time race day arrived, we were both ready.
After all these years, racing results seem to be the least important memory of this trip. I won my first U23 World Cup and Léa suffered a few punctures which made a good result impossible. But what I remember most is our return trip.
Coming home from Cairns is not an easy day trip. No matter how you plan it, you’ll have a long layover in Sydney, so we decided to embrace it and extend ours overnight. With our focus so square on the race, we had nothing planned for our night in Sydney and when we finally arrived I pulled out my phone to research the best places to eat, drink, walk – everything. We should have made reservations weeks ago, I concluded after a few moments on The New York Times’ 36 Hours to Sydney guide.
“Let’s go,” Lea said as I pored over my Google searches.
“But we only have one night!” How will we know if we have chosen well? I answered.
“Okay my little diary. It will be good for you,” she said.
And just like that, we were on the tube heading to Sydney Harbor not knowing where we were going once we got there. Lea knew she wanted to see the Opera, so we jumped in and went there first. I spent the walk looking at menus and trying to find the best place to eat. Léa spent the walk telling me to relax and look at the view.
The Opera was magnificent, unlike any building I had ever seen before. We walked around and watched the city lights and the boats in the water. Yes, it was worth seeing, I thought. We went to the front of the building to see who was playing and, to our surprise, we saw the name of one of our favorite artists in the flashing lights: Vance Joy. Vance freaking Joy was playing!
“You see Léa, that’s why you have to plan ahead! It’s probably been sold out for months,” I said.
“Yeah man that’s a bummer,” Lea replied.
I thought I might as well see if there were any tickets to spare. I connected to wifi and started searching. Ten minutes later I was down an internet rabbit hole on a website called GumTree, which I believe is the Australian equivalent of Craigslist. There were a few tickets listed and I started messaging sellers. A couple had decided not to go at the last minute and posted two tickets.
“Find anything?” Lea asked impatiently.
“I have this Lea, wait,” I said. “I offer them all my prize money.”
“Okay Kate,” she replied, “work your millennial magic!”
I messaged them, offering all the money I had received on the World Cup podium the day before and, to my surprise, they said yes.
“We are in!” I shouted enthusiastically. “We’ll meet them at the roundabout in front of the theater in 10 minutes.”
We descended the steps and headed for the circle, almost running with excitement. We found their car, gave them the money and left with two golden tickets. We looked like little kids who had just flown out of the cookie jar and quickly made their way to the Opera bar to sip cocktails and celebrate. It was surreal.
Even more surreal was the concert itself. Vance Joy was as funny and talented as I had always imagined him to be and when he started playing “Fire and The Flood” the crowd erupted in song. Joy stopped playing and it was just us. I swear with the acoustics of this building, the crowd sounded like a choir. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard.
Lea and I had the opportunity to travel the world and fill our lives with incredible experiences, not just as athletes but as human beings. We just had to choose to value those moments alongside the results, to keep the hard work and the joy in balance rather than in opposition. That night, as we sat at the Sydney Opera House and felt the vibrations of Vance Joy’s music move through us, my heart sang. I wasn’t planning my next step or thinking about what was on my training schedule the next day. I just sat down and savored every note.
This experience remains one of my best memories with Léa. In a world where so many elite athletes seem to preach sacrifice and suffering, Lea showed me how joy and adventure can be your secret weapon. Yes, of course, she wanted to win and was willing to be disciplined and serious to achieve her goals. As a teammate, I’ve seen her win national championships, world championship medals, and qualify for the US Olympic team. I saw her come back from her wounds and grief with courage and conviction and never give up the fierce pursuit of her dreams. These results had a huge impact on the trajectory of mountain biking in America, especially for women.
But his legacy and his impact go far beyond his desire to reach the top step of the podium. Lea taught me that in the long run, your character will define you far more than your racing results ever could. It’s not just what she accomplished, but how she accomplished it that makes her the incredible mentor, friend, teammate, partner, sister and daughter that she is and will continue to be. long after his stint on the World Cup circuit ended. close.
To know Léa is to know joy. She loves riding her bike so much that she can’t help but share that enthusiasm with the people around her. And, if there’s anything she taught me, it’s that joy can be the unexpected ingredient in top performance – and what makes chasing those good days on the bike, with people that you love and admire, an unforgettable adventure.
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