I had the opportunity to capture and attend the Womens Redbull Rampage 2025. 

Notes from Redbull Rampage 2025

SUPPORT —– 

Honestly, a little exhausted, emotional, and so excited for what the future of women’s sports holds. 

I’ve been lucky to travel all over the world capturing women in sport. It’s been humbling and completely transformative. I’m constantly reminded how powerful, alive, and deeply connected women are when we show up together.

There’s something special that happens when women come together. The kind of support that feels like you can do anything.It’s a sisterhood that stretches from the highest level all the way down to the very beginning, its engrained.

Watching Women’s Red Bull Rampage today, I honestly felt like I could cry at any moment. I know I’m a sensitive person, but it was more than that. There was this deep energy that connected every woman there. From staff to media to diggers to the athletes. 

From the women’s site you could hear the men’s side echoing in the distance, cheers, crazy tricks, and you know that something big is happening over there.  But on the women’s side it was calm, wholesome with an unwavering support. They were in it together. Pioneers of something new and something powerful.

I spent a week watching what it took to make this happen. Each athlete had two diggers helping them build their line from scratch. The desert weather threw them funny weather systems and pushed the event back a day, but it turned out to be a gift. The rain made the dirt like glue, perfect for shaping the best lines and jumps for their athletes. 

Watching the athletes eye up the jumps made my stomach drop. I was tripping over rocks and bum scooting my way down the cliff while these women were standing at the edge of massive features, it made me appreciate their fearlessness even more. I’d been told from Kirsten Van Horne that Janelle was scared of heights and wasn’t sure she’d hit the 35-foot drop. Honestly, fair enough.

I saw her up there, creeping toward the edge, then stepping back, shaking out her hands, looking down again. Kirsten and Vinny were right there along the way to help her. Kirsten picked up the phone from the bottom of the jump and called one of the crew up top, talking Janelle through it calmly. Janelle took a deep breath, rolled back, and went for it.

Seeing her face afterward, a wave of relief and pride washed over everyone watching. Kirsten and Vinny ran toward her and wrapped her in a hug. Watching them face their fears with that kind of bravery is hard to put into words. It tugs at you. It makes you want to go out and face your own fears. You can feel how their actions will ripple out and inspire others to push too.

The courage these women have is unreal. They push through fear in terrain that doesn’t forgive mistakes. They remind me why I love what I do. They make me want to try harder, to be braver, to do the things that scare me.

The women’s venue was split into two sides. Hannah, Janelle, Vinny, and Kirsten on one. Georgia, Robin, and Cami on the other.

Later during their practice day, after their full top to bottom runs, Vinny, Janelle, and Kirsten hiked back up to fine tune a few of their midsection jumps. There was a small fence nearby overlooking El Presidente, the biggest jump that Cami and Georgia had been working on.

The three of them leaned against the fence,  all about five foot something and barely taller then it,  giggling as they watched their friends send it. It was the sweetest moment. These tiny but strong women, standing side by side, cheering like kids. It made me laugh and reminded me that behind every big name and huge send, they’re still just women who love to ride bikes and lift each other up.

MENS —-

Currently sitting in the airport on my way home after a week in Utah, and I can’t believe it’s all over. The early mornings, the long days, the time and effort that went into those digs, the anticipation, the adrenaline, and now it’s all done.

Taking the off road buggy into the venue today felt a little different. The women’s venue was empty, a few familiar faces around, but I didn’t feel connected. It felt off. From the women’s site, you could see the men’s. It felt like a different world, the energy, the noise, the history it was all just… different. I was told it would be a spectacle to see, and as a photographer, I thought it’d be an amazing chance to capture some amazing tricks before the crowds set in.

But rolling in, the excitement wasn’t there. There was no story I understood. I didn’t know how to walk the venue, who was dropping in from where, or who was who. There was no emotional pull, no narrative to follow, nothing that made me feel that same inspiring spark I felt watching the women.

The men were flying past in all directions, flipping overhead, casually walking back up after dropping huge features. For any mountain biker, it was a dream, idols everywhere.  But somehow, I didn’t feel like I belonged there. I snapped photos, trick after trick, eyes wide as they let go of the bars, spun upside down, or dropped 70 feet. But there was no story for me there. No hugs, no giggles, no tears of joy. The men are incredible, truly. I’m in awe of what they do,  but it’s different, it doesn’t pour through you in the same way.

So I climbed up to the top of a big cliff, let the sun warm my skin, and watched my last bit of one of the most incredible and niche experiences I’ve ever had. The riders were still dropping massive lines, flying off cliffs, and preparing for comp day. It’s going to be something else.

CRASHES —– 

During the mens I was preparing to capture one of the athletes from the bottom of a jump. Camera at the ready I began snapping, he came flying over the edge off the cliff and a scream. He went down, I closed my eyes, turned around and heard him fall 60ft. 

Another rider down. He was screaming in pain and a video I watched afterwards showed his leg snapping and going in a 90 degree  opposite angle as it should be.

It was traumatizing. The 5th crash I had seen that week. They are loud, brutal and unforgiving. 

After that I went over to the media tent, had a water and some food, tried to decompress for a little bit. It had become a lot and I was ready to go home. 

Crash after crash you’re constantly reminded how intense this sport is. How they are at the very brink of what the human body is capable of and they continue to push. How the environment is extreme and there is very little room for error. That they are walking on the line of accidents and death daily. 

—-