Photos by Petor Georgallou BESPOKED

With just over four months until BESPOKED Dresden returns, we caught up with Chris

Schmidt of Good Grief, the Colorado Springs-based framebuilder whose distinctive bike,

Cheeku, received the coveted "Best in Show" award last year.

Chris officially launched Good Grief in January 2024, following a prolific career of over 15 years in the cycling industry. His passion for framebuilding began in 2011 under the mentorship of master framebuilder Koichi Yamaguchi. The distinctive name 'Good Grief' came about after an encounter at a bike swap, prompted by a reaction to Chris's unconventional choice of riding a fixed-gear setup on the notoriously rugged Colorado Trail—a demanding 567-mile route that traverses the Rocky Mountains, from Denver to Durango, renowned among bikepackers for its challenging terrain and high-altitude trails.

Cheeku itself honours Chris’s Native American roots and family heritage, reflecting his commitment to Indigenous representation within the cycling community. Good Grief, as an Indigenous-owned brand, proudly produces custom, handcrafted bicycles and components in the USA.

Our conversation explored his experiences with the SRAM Inclusivity Scholarship, insights into his personal journey, and what's next for Chris Schmidt and Good Grief.

Question #1 - Cheeku, your award-winning bike, features secondary tubes for reinforcement. What inspired this design, and how does it enhance the ride?

There were various iterations of Cheeku well into the fabrication stages. While I like to have CAD drawings of the basics of the bikes I make, I really enjoy keeping the initial drawings simple and creating on the fly with whatever looks and feels aesthetically right. The base design parameters were 150mm fork, 63-degree headtube, and 475mm chainstays. (Yes, those are loooong chainstays!) I keep going longer on the rear-ends of bikes I build for myself, but think I’ve found my sweet spot for my riding style with this über-long design.

While longer ain't wronger though, it's usually heavier. I knew that I really wanted to play with the idea of a “truss” frame, utilizing lighter tubing throughout the frame, but a few more tubes in the appropriate areas for strength. I had been poring over literature and tutorials for FEA analysis in Fusion for a few years and felt like I had enough of a handle on it to at least make a few informed decisions on this bike. I loaded everything into Fusion and just started playing. I spent about a month trying out different tubing profiles, placements, straight vs bent tubes, gussets, laser-cut reinforcements, square and rectangular tubing, you name it. Once I had finalized the design for the front triangle, I wasn’t 100% satisfied with the result as the rear end felt naked, and according to my work in Fusion, the long chainstays created a lever effect that was quite harsh behind the seat tube and bottom bracket. I added the two bridges and the final tube behind the seatube to shorten the lever effect and stiffen up the rear end of the bike significantly. It was a happy accident, as I also discovered this helped transition a lot of vibration through that new triangle, isolating the seattube and bottom bracket from unwanted vibrations.

It feels like stiff butter. Coupled with the carbon rims and 2.6” tires, it’s by far the most comfortable “hardcore hardtail” I’ve ever ridden, and even though it’s such a big bike (I’m about 6’2”, with ape arms, for reference) I managed to keep it lighter and stronger than I would have with a traditional frame design. The bike caused some controversy on Pinkbike and a few other places where individuals seem to hate the way it looks, or think I’m an idiot who doesn’t know anything about FEA testing or how real-world bike design is done by the big boys, and they’re probably right. I took Burf’s (from BTR’s) mentality, stuck my finger in the air, and hoped for the best. But I can tell you, it rides like a dream: super compliant, stiff in the right areas, and long enough to essentially chariot itself down the mountain. I couldn’t be happier.

Question #2 - As a builder with Native American heritage, how do your cultural roots shape your approach to bicycle design?

My family traditionally works in silver and turquoise jewelry design in Zuni, NM, and have done so for many years. I remember growing up and seeing my grandfather and his brothers trading jewelry and giving it as gifts. The work was embedded with more meaning than just the silver and stone that made it up- they say turquoise holds the memories of the people who have owned it, so every piece given was like a piece of themselves, their work, and their history. My grandfather gave my father and me matching bolo ties when I was very young, and it’s one of the most important possessions in my life. Through many moves and life changes, that bolo has been everywhere with me, and I’ve only worn it twice: at my grandfather's funeral and my wedding.

While bikes can be treated as a conspicuous consumption item for many people, cycling culture and bike design have been my greatest passions in life, and I want to treat them with the respect they deserve. With so few things being made by hand and with the care and attention that people put into designing and building modern bikes, it’s a shame to me that the spectacle of marketing has become the lifeforce of the cycling industry, and western expansion, exploitation, technology and consumption continue to be the modus operandi. There's something nostalgic, albeit naïve, about being an indigenous person in modern America; manifest destiny will always exclude you, exploit you, erase you. I see custom bikes as a form of resistance, non-conformity in an ever increasingly homogenized world. I see intentional craftsmanship and utility as a kick in the head to modernity and overconsumption.

Question #3 - You rode the Colorado Trail on a fixed-gear bike, which is quite a feat. How did that experience inform your perspective on bike functionality and design?

The Colorado Trail on a fixed gear was so sick. Having ridden most sections of it on a geared bike, I knew it would be possible on my fixed-gear MTB. On that trail, and most of the more remote single-track trails in the Rockies, you’re going to have to push your bike. The fixed gear aspect didn’t really change much when it came to the ascents- if I had to walk, I probably should be walking anyway. Overall it made me think differently about how I tackle a bikepacking trip, and what I hope to capture with my bike designs: namely fun. Being a fan of rowdy descents, I find that fixed-gear descending is a beast all of its own. It can be more fun descending single track on a fixed gear at 10mph than it is on a full-squish at 30, it’s just different fun. Riding your bike downhill instead of plowing it is a sensation I think most people would enjoy, they just never try it. Having only a single brake on the front and a rigid seat post really makes you work for it.

Question #4 - Finite Element Analysis (FEA) played a role in Cheeku’s development. How do you balance technological analysis with traditional craftsmanship in your work?

I think there's a balance. I obviously want to build the strongest frames possible, but at the same time I don’t think that should take away from the artistry that is inherent in bespoke frame building. The production world has plenty of money to throw into the technical details of framebuilding, but production timelines and cost reductions can force decisions that keep frames from truly unique expressions. I see the bespoke side of framebuilding as where artists can push the boundaries of frame design, but due to the low production quantities, there is rarely enough data to make definitive determinations of any technical analysis. For instance, the FEA that went into Cheeku helped make the decisions for the extra tube placement, but because of the standards that need to be met for ISO requirements, it would be completely inefficient from a production standpoint to make that frame. Because I know my own weight, riding style, etc, it’s easier for me to decide to use ultralight tubing on a downhill style bike and try a new design, than it would be for a consumer across the country (whom I know nothing about and who could potentially sue me) could. So yeah, it’s a balance. If I’m making a non-traditional frame such as Cheeku, I make sure that I know the customer, and try to ride with that customer to ensure the data I can collect is as useful as possible to make a safe and unique ride. I’m a big believer in buying local when it comes to custom frames, as regional framebuilders who ride their respective regions make the best bikes for those areas. Local knowledge. Another example is our fixed gear ATB frame, Scorched Earth. I’ve put tons of my own personal knowledge (and Fixie Dave’s) riding fixed gear bikes offroad into the design, and have built it as a production-ish model that should work well in any area of the world…but this is a more traditional frame design that relies on more standardized designs to ensure safety and longevity. I still do a ton of hand mitering and try to never let the tools I have (or don’t have) determine the feasibility of a design. Files and torches have been around a long time, I find it super cool to keep these traditional methods alive.

Question #5 - The SRAM Inclusivity Scholarship aims to support diverse voices in cycling. How has this program influenced your journey as a frame builder?

The scholarship helped massively with visibility for Good Grief and my framebuilding. Being able to show my work in Germany gave me an international audience (and a ton of new friends) and allowed me to meet and mingle with some of my biggest inspirations in framebuilding. The scholarship also gave me the flexibility to build a frame and execute an idea that had been living in my brain for a long time. It gave me the flexibility to take time out of customer builds to really focus on a single idea and execute it to my highest potential. It’s hard enough supporting oneself as a framebuilder, let alone taking weeks out of your schedule to try something new. I’ve had numerous individuals of indigenous backgrounds reach out and offer words of support and stoke. To me that’s what it’s all about. As cheesy as it sounds, it gave me a boost of confidence in my designs and building, and has helped keep the imposter syndrome inner whispers to a minimum. So many people at the show stopped by the booth and looked at the items I brought to represent my bike and my heritage, too. It was truly an honor to share my Paiute-Shoshone and Zuni background with people, as much as it was to share my bike.

Question #6 - Looking ahead, what innovations or projects are you excited to explore in the realm of custom bike building?

I wouldn’t say that I’m hoping to innovate anything but am excited to keep executing designs that push me as a framebuilder. I’m currently wrapping up my first fat bike– a singlespeed/fixed gear specific with boost spacing front and rear, and a 17mm offset. And if you thought Cheeku had a lot of tubes, this thing is essentially a plate of spaghetti. While I’m not a very competitive person, I love being inspired to keep pushing myself by other framebuilders who are also pushing the boundaries of traditional designs in framebuilding. I’ve been heavily and continually inspired by my friend Konstantin Drust and his wild creations, his creativity really inspires me to try new things and execute weird ideas, no matter how impossible they may seem (or how much hand mitering they require). I left Bespoked with so many great connections and ideas, and they’ve only grown since the show ended. While it’s great showing bikes to the public, there's this secret (not so secret) drive to try and impress my peers and get them riled up and stoked for my designs, like I am for theirs. I love the framebuilding community, and love being a part of it.

Question #7 - For aspiring frame builders, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds, what advice would you offer based on your experiences?

Get weird, stay weird. Seriously, though, underrepresented backgrounds sometimes take for granted the worldview they inherently hold by being from non-white, or non-dominant cultures, or being told NO their whole lives. That perspective is a superpower in the grand scheme of things, and while it may feel like your ideas are out of place or that they don’t fit in anywhere in the cycling industry, that’s your advantage. Tech bros and large brands are always trying to “disrupt” industries and break from homogenous ideas, but it’s rarely more than a well-funded marketing campaign, rather than any real form of unique thought. You are already a disruption. Your existence is already disrupting normative white culture. Own it. Embrace it. You don’t need a machine shop to build award-winning bikes. You don’t need thousands of dollars of jigs and tools to take on bike design. Chop up old bikes and put them back together. And most importantly, view practice in a non-judgmental way. Fuck up, make mistakes, break things.

Applications for the 2025 SRAM Inclusivity Scholarship are now open, offering aspiring framebuilders from underrepresented backgrounds the chance to develop their skills, showcase their work, and connect with global cycling press. BESPOKED, together with SRAM, continues its commitment to broadening representation and supporting innovation within cycling. If you're passionate about framebuilding and have a unique voice or feel you belong to a group of people not equally visible in the cycling industry, this is your moment—apply today and help shape the future of handmade bicycles.