AI Roasts Local Bikers: You May Be Fast But You're Not Safe

What happens when you feed an AI too much chain lube, sarcasm, and Strava data? You get a brutally honest (and oddly accurate?) roast of some of the Northwoods' most legendary riders. From frostbitten endurance monsters to spreadsheet-loving aero nerds, no one is safe.

These are the riders who push limits, crush gravel, and somehow still make us laugh even while we're crying mid-ride. We asked AI to roast them. The results? Painfully glorious.

Todd Poquette

Todd Poquette is the kind of guy who looks at a perfectly good gravel road and says, “You know what this needs? Suffering. And mosquitoes.”

He builds routes like he’s trying to summon a vengeful god. And somehow convinces other people to pay to ride them. Genius or evil mastermind? Unclear.

His idea of community-building is dropping you 40 miles from civilization, in a hailstorm, with a note that says “Prove it.”

Todd doesn’t train. He just glares at a bike until it’s scared to go slow.

At this point, we’re not sure if 906 is a race series or a secret endurance cult with better branding than Peloton.

And let’s be honest—if you’ve ever done one of his events, you probably still have chafing, emotional trauma, and… weirdly, a desire to sign up again.

Chase Wark

He rides like he's being chased by a bear but dresses like he's sponsored by a flannel startup.

He wears an aero helmet to the Kwik Trip checkout line and calls it “marginal gains.” And let’s be honest—if they sold aero gels at Kwik Trip, he’d have a loyalty punch card.

You haven’t seen true chaos until Chase tries to optimize his CdA while holding a Glazer and a slice of pizza. He’s got more carbon than body fat and more spreadsheets than friends.

If it’s not on Strava with power data, it didn’t happen. And if you pass him on a descent? Don't worry—he'll DM you with a critique of your position and a 6-part breakdown of his wind drag savings.

Chase created The Hotdish gravel race so he could finally justify eating 4,000 calories of tater tot casserole mid-ride—but don’t worry, it’s still “aero-friendly” if you blend it.

Jill Martindale

If you’ve ever felt good about your endurance, don't look at her Ultra resumes. You’ll cry. Then freeze to death trying to copy her.

Jill’s “easy spin” lasts 8 hours, crosses 3 counties, and ends with frost forming on her eyelashes—and that’s indoors on the trainer.

She once biked through a blizzard for 300 miles and called it “a fun little thing I tried.” Jill doesn’t taper for races—she just pedals until the trail gives up first.

Most people see minus 30 and cancel plans. Jill sees minus 30 and packs an extra thermos.

Dave Schlabowske

Dave Schlabowske has ridden more Wisconsin backroads than Google Maps has heard of — and somehow still acts surprised every time a bar only takes cash.

He’s the only guy who can write 3,000 words about a gravel ride and still not mention if he actually enjoyed it.

Dave doesn't ride bikes — he documents them into submission. The gravel doesn’t know whether it’s being pedaled or profiled.

He’s been “retired” for years, but somehow publishes more ride reports than full-time journalists.

The man’s done so many solo bikepacking trips, even bears leave him alone out of professional courtesy.