Perched on a hilltop in Alstead, New Hampshire is a small bakery — Orchard Hill Breadworks. Most of us know it from the beautiful, fragrant, perfectly-crusted loaves that appear in stores throughout town. That’s how I first recognized the name, until several years ago when it suddenly became synonymous with riding bikes, dirt roads, and pizza.
Throughout the summer, on Tuesday evenings, Orchard Hill puts on a pizza dinner benefiting a local non-profit. But every year, on one Sunday in early September, the bakery also plays host to The Dirty Pizza, a gravel bike ride taking in some of New Hampshire’s best back roads.
Three years ago, I had hardly stepped foot on a pedal, and yet I found myself gathering with about fifty other cyclists, about to embark on an adventure through woods roads and up steep gravel hills. It was, truly, my first foray into cycling. I knew I was in for dirt roads, hills, and pizza, but what I didn’t know was that some of these dirt roads were trails, really, meandering through the woods, that the hills were steeper than I anticipated, and the pizza was the best I’d ever eat.
Several days ago, this time with many long bike rides under my belt, I felt myself identifying a little more with all the cyclists gathering for the Dirty Pizza. I was about to embark on another adventure, captaining my first tandem with my best friend in tow. I knew the hills would be steep, the forest roads technical, and the pizza fantastic. And they were.
Yet, this is not so much about the ride itself as what the ride, and the experience, has showed me. Before my very first Dirty Pizza, my only athletic identity was that of a runner, until injury forced me to take up cycling. Not only did I take it up, but I embraced it, quickly discovering that I loved road and mountain biking almost as much as running. Now, every year that I return to the Dirty Pizza, I think about how lucky I am to have added this to my life — the ride itself, but also cycling as a whole. It has made me a better athlete, certainly.
The ride embodies a sense of well-roundedness. Nothing is too serious. There is a ride for all ages, from the Single Slice to the Half Pie. The focus is as much on the food as the bikes — cider doughnuts greet you in the morning, reminding you why you came, and if there is any doubt in your mind why you signed up for this expedition when you finish, the thought is quickly banished by the pizza, covered in seasonal produce (sungold cherry tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, onions…peaches even). Perhaps what I am trying to say is that it reminds you of the balance that is needed: between pushing yourself and relaxing, between working and resting, between solitude and good company.
There is truly a sense of community present at the Dirty Pizza. Friends show up and ride together, kids help with registration and pizza making, sometimes people show up just for the food after. It takes time and energy to pull off an event like this, and yet, every year, pull it off they do. I think I can speak for most of the riders when I say I appreciate the care that goes into this event. And I’d like to think there is a kind of reciprocity, as the organizers see the fun and camaraderie they have facilitated.
I was reminded of this sense of joy the first time I rode Dirty Pizza, and realized that there are other forms of athleticism to discover and love. And I was reminded of it again, as I steered my first tandem this year, pushing myself to do something I normally wouldn’t. My friend and I smiled the whole way —thr ough the magical trail that winds along the river, past horses watching us go by, their ears pricked, even up the many hills, we smiled.
It is certainly easy, maybe even human nature, to get caught in the web of routine. To get up in the morning and go through the motions — go to work/run/have coffee/walk/read the paper/weightlift—whatever it may be. It is often hard for that bubble to pop, for us to lift up our heads and realize there is more than routine, that there is a lot in life to unearth and enjoy. Maybe even a slice of Dirty Pizza. That’s what popped my bubble.
Lara Matthias lives in Greenfield and is a 2015 ConVal graduate and a 2019 graduate of Hampshire College.