Behind the Scenes of From the Ground Up
From the Ground Up - The Untold Story
Creating From the Ground Up has been one of the most intense experiences of my career. This series was about human resilience, grit, and the incredible growth as we witnessed in four beginner cyclists training to tackle the Steamboat Gravel Black Course. It sounds straightforward enough - filming four people training and racing - but it turned into months of late nights, troubleshooting, and more than a few unexpected challenges. And those moments behind the scenes? They shaped this series just as much as the epic shots and emotional interviews.
What viewers don’t see are the conversations over dinner, the stress of missing equipment, or the all-night backup sessions where I had hard drives corrupt after a day of filming. So, because I think the story of creating the show is sometimes just as fun as the polished product, here’s what happened…
This is the real, behind-the-scenes story of From the Ground Up.
Watch all five episodes of From the Ground Up below…
Getting Started in Memphis
Clark from Victory Bicycle Studio sharing some tips for the riders about where to ride in Memphis, Tennessee
We kicked off filming in Memphis, where the riders were meeting each other for the first time. The atmosphere was electric but it was clear people were nervous. Everyone was still getting to know each other throughout Memphis and we were all wondering if they’d be able to make it through this journey together. I was right there with them, trying to figure out the dynamics between everyone while making sure our equipment was working perfectly.
One of my strongest memories from Memphis isn’t even about filming. We all went out for dinner one night, a casual spot with sushi where we ordered about 20 times more sushi than we needed. It was one of those moments when everyone’s guard dropped, and we started getting to know each other beyond the project. Lou, one of the riders, opened up about his past and how life had kind of caught up with him, how he’d lost that spark he once had as an athlete. He was there to get it back, and I could see that this journey meant as much to him personally as it did physically. Sitting there, swapping stories over this mountain of sushi, I realized this series was going to be so much more than a cycling show. This was the start of a real connection, a team… and for the athletes, a new sort of family.
Me, in the mustache up front, and some of the riders and crew for From the Ground Up
That first few days, as the riders started training, I was learning how to capture the small details that told their story - the little glances, the nervous smiles, the shared laughs. We filmed their first shaky bike rides, where they’d wobble and curse under their breath, and I’d try my best to keep the camera steady while stifling laughter. They were nervous, but they were committed. Memphis became the starting line, not just for the riders but for me and the crew too. We were all figuring it out as we went along.
After we finished filming Memphis, I rented a van with my girlfriend who flew out to meet me and we took a week to road trip through the south. You can check out the photo series and article I created from that trip below if you’re curious what we got up to :)
Documenting Technical Skills in Bentonville
Brandilee after one of the falls she took from clipping in
After Memphis, we headed to Bentonville, Arkansas, for the riders’ first real taste of gravel. Bentonville’s hills aren’t exactly mountains, but they can definitely break you down if you’re not ready for them. This was the point where reality started to sink in for the riders as some of the technical skills became a huge hurdle they needed to overcome to get through the week. They were finally facing the physical challenge they’d signed up for, and it was a wake-up call.
We stayed in a pretty rad Airbnb near downtown Bentonville, that doubled as our base of operations. Every morning, we’d be up before dawn, hauling equipment around to set up interviews, and load up cars before heading out to the day’s filming location. I was usually the last one up each night, reviewing footage and planning the next day.
Rich taking a break amidst the leaves of Bentonville, Arkansas
Bentonville was where the real work began, not just for the riders but for me as a filmmaker. It was a routine of shoot, review, troubleshoot, and plan. By day three, I was already mentally and physically exhausted, but we kept pushing because we knew these were the moments that would make the story. Each night, as the footage would back up to my computer, I would write an outline of what interview questions and moments I wanted to capture to make this series shine and bring to life the experiences of the four riders. By the end of Bentonville, I had 7 pages of notes saved in Google Docs filled with questions, experiences and beautiful moments that could highlight their stories in the editing process.
One evening after a particularly tough day of filming, where everyone was emotionally spent, we sat down for an interview. It was clear that everyone was exhausted of this schedule - bike for hours then sit down for an hour and tell Roo about your thoughts and emotions. At this point, I began to feel Lou, Kristen, Rich and Brandilee really relax on camera. They didn’t have the energy to hold up a facade and had to just let their real thoughts come out. That’s what Bentonville became for me: a reminder that this series was just as much about connection as it was about cycling.
The Power of Interviews as a Director
Interviewing Lou in Memphis, Tennessee
As the director, I took on the responsibility of guiding each interview, often feeling as if I was walking beside the riders through some of the darkest and most profound moments of their lives. These interviews weren’t just a set of questions that were pre-scripted and carefully planned, they were raw conversations that went far beyond anything I’d expected. Kristen shared the devastating loss of her 20 month old son who drowned, Rich opened up about his daughter’s tragic death in a car accident, Lou talked about raising two kids on his own, and Brandilee spoke openly about her experience with sexual assault. Sitting across from each of them, I found myself tearing up, sometimes outright crying, as their pain and resilience washed over me. The process was unlike anything I’d been through before. Each interview felt like an emotional marathon, with no space to take a breath before diving into the next one.
Creating a Healthy and Safe Space
Interview Rich in Steamboat Springs, Colorado
My mom’s a therapist and I often imagined my role behind the camera felt more similar to a mental health counseling than a camera guy. To bring out those deep emotions in each interview, I focused on creating a space where the riders felt genuinely safe and supported. I would start each conversation by sharing some of my own thoughts and experiences, letting them know that I was there not just as a director but as someone who cared about their story. I tried to be patient, allowing moments of silence where they could gather their thoughts without feeling rushed. Sometimes, I’d gently guide them with open-ended questions, making sure they knew they didn’t have to hold anything back.
I’d look for subtle cues - an expression, a tone shift, a hesitation - and give them room to explore those feelings. Often, I’d mirror their emotions, validating their experiences with my own reactions, which would sometimes lead me to tears right alongside them. This approach was crucial in bringing out their most vulnerable selves. I was trying to let them feel comfortable enough to share their truths and not trying to force any specific story. That emotional openness became a powerful element in each interview and captured the heart of their journey in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
Interviewing Ryan and Alexey in Bentonville, Arkansas
Bringing the interviews together
By the end of the project, we had accumulated over 24 hours of interviews - an entire day’s worth of deep, raw emotion captured on camera. As meaningful as it was, the emotional toll of these conversations was intense. I’d leave each interview feeling both exhausted and deeply connected to the people in front of me, only to have to gather myself quickly to do it all over again. There was no time to recharge or fully process what I’d just heard. Directing these interviews became a balancing act, where I had to be both a compassionate listener and a focused filmmaker, ensuring we captured the depth of each story while also respecting the vulnerability these moments required. This part of the process was more than just capturing something pretty on camera but felt like a really vulnerable experience that changed me profoundly as both a director and a person.
Unexpected Lessons in Gunnison, Colorado
Lou cranking through a long, hot day in the mountains of Colorado
Gunnison, Colorado, was pretty exciting and gnarly not just for the riders but for us as a crew. At 7,700 feet, the thin air made everything feel twice as hard, and simple tasks turned into grueling challenges. But it wasn’t just the altitude or terrain that tested us; tracking our riders across a sprawling network of remote dirt roads without cell service became a whole adventure of its own.
Rob, our photographer who took all the photos you see here in this article, and I spent entire days zooming around in a truck, navigating a maze of backroads, often losing track of the riders for up to an hour. With very limited (and often non-existent) GPS to rely on, we’d frantically search the winding paths, constantly trying to anticipate where they might be. Gunnison’s landscape is vast and pretty unforgiving, and we were just two people, chasing four cyclists across miles of dusty, twisting roads.
After days like these, we’d gather around a the table at night, the whole team and riders, feeling a sense of camaraderie and exhaustion. It was during one of those nights that Rich, the oldest of the group, shared about his struggles with arthritis and what drove him to keep going. Sitting there on the sofa, I realized that this experience means so much to these riders and I was the one who was in-charge of brining this to life in the documentary series. It felt like a lot of pressure to get it right.
A moment where I got behind the wheel for a product placement opportunity for our head sponsor, Mazda
Then came the late nights. Gunnison was where I really started burning the candle at both ends, staying up late to go over footage, back up files, and organize everything. By this point, we were amassing terabytes of footage. The weight of responsibility was constant and the thought of losing even a single moment we’d worked so hard to capture was terrifying. I’d sit hunched over my laptop in the dim glow, reviewing hours of footage, double-checking every clip, and knowing that we were capturing something deeply important. Also because in Bentonville, one of the hard drives had corrupted and I was terrified we lost a day’s worth of footage but I was able to save it by copy over, file by file, from another hard drive.
Wrapping up Production in Steamboat Springs
After months of prep, Steamboat Springs felt like the finish line but in reality, it was just the beginning of the hardest part. The 125-mile Steamboat Gravel Black Course was the ultimate test, and as the riders lined up on race day, I could feel the tension, excitement, and anxiety radiating from them. I’d spent so many months alongside them by this point that their emotions felt like my own. Standing there at dawn, with hundreds of cyclists ready to go, it was hard to believe we’d made it this far.
Lou descending Wahooligan Pass, around mile 28 of the 125 mile race course
The course itself was brutal. I was bouncing between different points along the route, trying to capture key moments while my team and I tracked the riders. My heart dropped every time I’d lose sight of one of them in the crowd or when a stretch of silence out on the course made me wonder if something had gone wrong. The backroads of Steamboat were beautiful, but they were unforgiving. The dust, the heat, the relentless climbs - it was everything we’d been preparing for, and it was pushing everyone to their limits.
Around mile 80, I managed to catch up with Kristen for quite a bit of time. She was exhausted, her face a mix of pain and determination. It was one of those moments where I knew I had to capture the shot but also felt guilty for being there, filming her at her most vulnerable. I kept the camera rolling, but in my heart, I was silently cheering her on, willing her to keep pushing. Ryan Petry, one of the athletes and producers for the show, was there with me as we’d tear up every time she made it up another hill. Later she told me that knowing we were there and supporting her was what kept her going in those final miles. That meant the world to me.
The Marathon of Post-Production
Once the race was over, my job was far from done. In fact, I think the hardest part was just beginning. I had 28 terabytes of footage - an overwhelming amount of data and videos to sift through. With so much material, organizing it felt like trying to climb my own personal mountain. Every hard drive was filled to the brim, and each one represented hours of moments, emotions, and memories. I knew I had to find the best of the best and distill it into five episodes that captured the essence of this journey.
Rich on the porch of our AirBnB in Steamboat Springs sharing his final thoughts of the project
For the next month, my life revolved around editing. I was pulling 12- to 15-hour days in a dark room, sorting through endless clips, piecing together scenes, and trying to find the perfect rhythm for each episode. I had some help from an assistant editor to sift through footage for a few days, and that made a world of difference to speed up editing episode 5, but ultimately, it was just me facing down the storytelling and minute editing details for this massive project.
The Pressure of Getting it Right
Editing a documentary is like reliving every moment, only with the added pressure of making it cohesive, impactful, and true to the story. There were nights when I’d be up at 2 a.m., staring at the screen, wondering if I’d ever finish - my eyes red and teary from the emotions and exhaustion. I knew that every second counted; each shot had to earn its place. I found myself getting emotional revisiting moments I’d forgotten - like vulnerable confessions in Bentonville, Kristen’s determination on the hills of Gunnison, and Rich’s quiet resilience through the whole journey. These were the moments that had shaped our series, and I wanted to do them justice.
After weeks of editing, I could finally see the story coming together. Watching the episodes evolve from raw footage to a polished series was deeply satisfying. I saw not just the riders’ journeys, but also my own, mirrored in every scene, every cut, every emotional beat. By the time the final episode was finished, I felt a mix of relief, pride, and a strange sadness that it was over. From the Ground Up had taken everything I had, but it had given me even more in return.
In the end, I directed, filmed and edited 113 minutes - nearly 2 hours - for a documentary series. Which, if we decided on a different format, would be enough to create a full feature length movie.
Final Reflections
A celebratory moment after some long rides in Gunnsion, Colorado featuring one of our sponsors - Partake Brewing
Looking back, I can say that From the Ground Up was more than just TV show. It’s a testament to everyone involved - the riders, the crew, and even the places we filmed. The conversations, the late nights, the laughs, the doubts, and the moments of pure grit and determination are woven into the fabric of this series. I hope that when people watch it, they feel the heartbeat of every moment, both on and off camera.
For me, this project wasn’t just about filming four people on a cycling journey. To be honest, I didn’t really care much about what they accomplished on a bike. I wanted to capture the raw, messy and deeply human experience of taking on a challenge that feels bigger than you are. I wanted to push myself just as hard as the riders, and somehow, through all of it, find the story that made it all worth it.
So, to everyone who tuned in and shared this journey with us, thank you. And to Lou, Kristen, Rich, and Brandilee, who let me into their lives and showed me what true resilience looks like - this one’s for you!
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Roo is an Emmy nominated documentary filmmaker and photographer based in Boulder, Colorado but travels all around the world for his filmmaking career. He has directed documentaries for Patagonia in California, produced films for Outside Magazine throughout Europe and Africa, camera operated for Netflix in the Rocky Mountain West, and photographed among indigenous communities in South America, and has received notable recognition in his hometown of Orcas Island in Washington State for his work telling uplifting stories in the outdoor space.