Dylan Johnson - Does it make me Faster?

Words by James Ion - Photography courtesy of Taylor Farman

Dylan Johnson, we all know him, he’s the one with the YouTube channel that has big tyres and is always tinkering with his bike. He also races bikes, is part of the Life Time Grand Prix, and is a highly qualified coach, podcaster, and business owner. To put it simply, there is more to him than just the online persona. I was able to track him down at his home in North Carolina, not that hard with him being on crutches, and we arranged the meeting via email, but still, I tracked him down to answer the question: Who is Dylan Johnson?

Obsession

Johnson was 12 when his father gave him his first mountain bike. "I got obsessed with it really quickly," Dylan said. “I mean, I sort of have an obsessive personality. When I find something that I like, I really tend to fixate on it. And it was definitely, I mean, it still is the case to this day, but it was definitely the case with cycling. I was absolutely obsessed with it as a teenager". 

Indeed, by the time he was 14, he was racing, and by 15 or 16, he was training with a power meter and a heart rate monitor. “Like the only thing that I really cared about is cycling”. 

What started as a cross-country mountain bike obsession soon became all about the long distance. “I think that my skill set and my physiology kind of favour longer distance races more. So I gravitated towards hundred-mile mountain bike races.” This would prove to be a successful move as he eventually found his way onto the National Ultra Endurance (NUE) series, 100-mile mountain bike epics hosted at the likes of Cohutta, Shenandoah, and Mohican. 

It was there, at 21, that he became the youngest-ever NUE series champion. He went on to win the overall title two more times. These races, long, gruelling, and often lonely, revealed his true strength: consistency over time. Steady power, steady mind. 

Seeing him reflect on where he has come from, you still see the obsession, the excitement. But it was not some glib poetic notion of cycling that fuelled him, rather something more tangible, something that he could quantify; his obsession came from the fact that he was good at something. 

“I think most people, if they're being honest, naturally lean towards the things they’re good at” Dylan reflects. “I could talk about the freedom or the wind in my hair, sure, but really, I think it comes down to that. I took to cycling quickly. Even without much training, I was good at it from the start. I don’t want to say I was a natural, but it came easily from a young age. And honestly, it just feels good to be good at something, that’s probably what drew me in more and more.”

As with a lot of cyclists, it didn't take long for Dylan to become, as he puts it, a “geek” for the technical side of things, not gnarly trails but rather the nuts and bolts of bikes and equipment. “I’ve always been into the technical side of cycling, that's what I totally geek out on. You could call it marginal gains, I guess,” he reflects. “My first obsession was weight; as a teenage mountain biker, I was a total weight weenie. I’m less like that now, though people probably know me more for being into aero, rolling resistance, and drivetrain efficiency. I just love dialling in the details. I'm also into the science behind training, that part of the

sport really grabbed me.” 

Is he then obsessive in other aspects of his life? “It depends. I mean, I'm also a YouTuber, but you know what, surprisingly I don't geek out on camera equipment, which might be surprising considering how far down the rabbit hole I've gone with geeking out about cycling equipment” he says with a smile.

“I don’t geek out on equipment for the sake of geeking out on equipment,” he explains.

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the tools of the trade. He’s obsessed with tyre rolling resistance, drivetrain efficiency, and aero setups. But when it comes to gear that doesn’t impact performance, the enthusiasm just isn’t there.

“Take cycling computers. They give you data, sure, but they’re not making you faster,” he says. The same goes for electronic shifting. While many were captivated by the sleek, cable-free setups and cutting-edge tech, Johnson remained unmoved. “I could take it or leave it. Some people were losing their minds about Di2. I just didn’t care that much.”

This isn’t a lack of curiosity; it’s laser focus.

“If it doesn’t make me faster, I’m just not interested.” For him, there’s only one real metric that matters: performance.

“It’s all about the end objective, making the bike faster and potentially getting a better race result.”

In a world where gear hype often overshadows gains, Johnson’s clarity is refreshing. It’s not about the flashiest setup or the newest gadget. It’s about speed. And he’s not wasting watts or time on anything else.

Facts

Talking with Dylan about Tech was not my goal, I think he has said a lot about all sorts of equipment, marginal gains and FTP and in most interviews this is what is focused on so I wanted to avoid this “rabit hole” but when talking to someone as passionate and as knowledgeable as Dylan its almost impossible to avoid! However, talking about tyres gave an insight into how his mind works, how he assesses the facts and the real science.

“One of my biggest pet peeves is people saying that something feels faster,” he says. “I don’t care at all about how it feels.”

It’s a bold stance in a sport where subjective experience often finds its way into product reviews and group-ride debates. But for Dylan, whose approach to cycling is as data-driven as it gets, there’s a clear line between perception and performance.

He’s quick to clarify that rider confidence matters, handling, comfort, and fit all play a role.

“Obviously, the bike needs to feel good. You need to feel confident when you’re handling it. I don’t want to completely discount feeling,” he says. “But when it comes to something like rolling resistance, drivetrain efficiency, or aerodynamics, feel should be completely irrelevant.”

In other words, “If it feels fast, that doesn’t mean it is fast.”

That’s why Dylan doesn’t just rely on specs or marketing claims; he tests. Real-world testing has become part of his method. Set power, controlled conditions, and a simple question: Is it actually faster?

“I’ve done a number of real-world tests, riding the same gravel course at the same power output with different tyres,” he explains. The results surprised him. “I was quickly coming to the conclusion that mountain bike tyres were actually faster than gravel tyres when you're actually riding on gravel.”

It’s this evidence-based mindset that defines Johnson’s approach. He’s not interested in hype or hearsay. If the data doesn’t back it up, it doesn’t make the cut.

“I don’t care if it feels fast,” he says. “I care if it’s actually faster.”

His now-signature analytical approach to endurance cycling has earned him a loyal YouTube following and a respected place in the coaching world, but it all stems from a simple truth: he doesn’t trust anecdote.

“The feelings of one person mean almost nothing to me,” he says flatly. “If you're just talking about your personal experience… that's an N of one. You're not talking about a large group of people. The placebo effect is strong, so if someone believes something works, they’ll probably feel like it works. But that doesn’t make it true.”

Instead, Dylan builds his content and his coaching philosophy around published, peer-reviewed research. Whether he’s talking about supplements, training protocols or recovery therapies, his videos strip away the myths and focus on the science. “You're not going to see me talking about my personal experience,” he explains. “The only thing you’ll see me talk about is: what does the research have to say?”

This sharp-edged, methodical thinking didn’t appear from nowhere. It grew in tandem with his passion for cycling tech as a teenager and was formalised when he moved to North Carolina to study exercise science at Brevard College. “I was already nerding out about how to improve my performance,” he says. “So it was a very natural pathway.” What drew him specifically to Brevard, however, wasn’t the academics; it was the riding. “At 18, the fact that the school had one of the best cycling teams in the country and amazing trails mattered way more to me than the actual education.”

He still lives just a short walk from the college, nestled in the mountains of western North Carolina. The area, known for its year-round rain and proximity to numerous State Parks and forests, suits him perfectly: “It is humid, but I don’t live on the coast. I’m in the mountains. It rains a lot, yeah, but it’s great riding.”

From that base, Dylan carved a career in coaching after an internship at CTS (Carmichael Training Systems) turned into a contract position. But, he admits, the early days were tough. “I didn’t have a lot of clients. To be honest, I was barely scraping by.” That’s when he turned to YouTube, not for fame, but recognition. “If you go back and watch my first videos, I’m filming inside the CTS building. I say I’m a CTS coach. It was just to let people know: I’m a coach, you can hire me.”

The plan worked. His videos caught on, in large part due to his no-nonsense, evidence-first approach. Today, although Dylan only coaches two close friends, he runs a coaching company, Ignition Coach Co., with a team of staff coaches under his brand. “I’m not really a coach anymore, but I have a coaching company,” he says with a laugh. “I imagine that once I retire from professional racing, I’ll probably go back to coaching more seriously.”

For now, though, his priorities are racing and content creation. It’s an interesting reversal of the usual trajectory. “Most people go from racing to coaching as they slow down. For me, it was the other way around. I started with coaching and then moved more into racing as time went on.”

Whether he’s behind a camera or on the start line, what remains consistent is his refusal to follow the crowd or rely on hearsay. As he puts it: “It’s not about what feels fast. It’s about what is fast. And the only way to know that is through data.”

The Transition

Dylan Johnson’s path to professional gravel racing wasn’t marked by precocious talent or junior world championship wins. Instead, it was a quiet evolution, built on endurance, data, and the kind of long-range thinking that suits five- to seven-hour races.

“When gravel started to blow up around 2020, it just made sense for me.”

Dylan explains. “I’d already been doing races of that duration. I wasn’t jumping from crits or short cross-country races. I was already out there racing for five, six, seven hours.”

His first taste of gravel came before the boom. “I did my first Unbound in 2018,” he says, referencing the 200-mile event that has become the crown jewel of U.S. gravel racing. “And that distance really suited my physiology. It was a very natural transition from the long-distance mountain bike events I was already doing.”

The switch wasn’t just practical, it was philosophical. “There are things I like about gravel even more than mountain biking,” he says. “It’s less technical, sure, but the tactical side of it is more engaging. There’s more strategy.”

But despite his seamless move into the discipline, Dylan’s ascent to the pro ranks was far from meteoric. “I was a late bloomer,” he says. “Some people know they’re going pro when they’re 15. They skip college. That wasn’t me at all.”

Had you asked anyone if, in his early twenties, Dylan would ever become a pro cyclist, the answer probably would’ve been no. “Relative to most people, I was good. But relative to actual pros? I was nothing special.”

So what changed? A combination of experience, science, and relentless fine-tuning. “I think I just figured out how to train better,” he reflects. “And I obsessed over the little details, equipment choices, nutrition, and pacing. All of it. I think those small things added up.”

By the time he hit 30, the results spoke for themselves. “I’ve just stepped up a level,” he says plainly.

And while the wins matter, Dylan’s influence extends far beyond the finish line. His YouTube channel has become an essential part of his professional package. “Some sponsors back me more for the racing, others more for the YouTube,” he admits. “But really, it’s a package deal. You’re not just working with a bike racer, you’re working with a content creator who happens to race professionally.”

It’s a reflection of the modern cycling landscape, where visibility off the bike can be just as important as results on it. Unless you’re winning everything like Keegan Swenson, you’ve got to be seen. You’ve got to have a presence.

Intergretity

Which leads nicely to sponsorship. In an era where cycling sponsorships are often driven by hype, hashtags, and how many eyeballs you can command, Dylan stands out for a refreshingly measured approach. For him, sponsorship isn’t just about slapping a logo on a jersey; it’s about alignment, authenticity, and long-term value.

“I’m not interested in promoting a product unless I genuinely believe in it,” he says. “There’s definitely been companies I’ve turned down because the product didn’t test well, or the science behind it wasn’t convincing.”

That critical lens comes as no surprise to anyone familiar with Dylan’s YouTube channel, where he dissects gear, training methods, and supplements with surgical precision. His reputation has been built on evidence-based analysis, not marketing spin, and he’s not willing to compromise that credibility for a cheque. “If I recommend something and my audience finds out later it doesn’t work or it’s just hype, then that’s on me. That’s my reputation.”

Rather than chasing deals, Dylan treats sponsorships as genuine partnerships. “Some of my sponsors are really into the racing side, others are more interested in the YouTube presence. It depends. But what they all have in common is that they value the full package.”

And that package matters. While his racing results have steadily improved over time, Dylan acknowledges that his media platform is often just as valuable to brands, if not more so. “For some sponsors, it’s less about podiums and more about reach. They know their product is being seen, explained, tested, and trusted. That kind of exposure is hard to buy.”

He also knows his analytical reputation gives him leverage, but it comes with responsibility. “I don’t just accept gear and post a photo. If I’m putting my name behind it, I’ve tested it. If I say it’s good, it’s because the data supports that. It has to pass the same standard I’d expect from any of my content.”

This approach has earned him respect among both fans and industry insiders, but it also means he doesn’t play the volume game. “I’d rather work with fewer companies that I believe in than fill a sponsor list with brands I can’t stand behind.”

The Crash

In the build-up to this year's Unbound, Dyaln was hit by a truck while out on a training ride, not only stopping his Unbound but potentially having long-term effects on his place in the Grand Prix. When Dylan talks about his crash, there’s no sugar-coating it. “I got hit by a truck,” he says bluntly. “The bumper hit me right in the knee.” The timing couldn’t have been worse, just two weeks before Unbound Gravel. “It’s the biggest race of the year for me. I put everything into that one,” he says. “Over 100 hours of training in three weeks. I was feeling better than last year, and last year was probably the best performance of my career.”

The result? A fractured tibia and fibula, and a complete derailment of the season he’d meticulously built. "The day of Unbound, I could barely get off the couch. I was still on crutches.”

This is no ordinary setback. For an athlete like Dylan, whose identity, schedule, and even social life are woven around the rhythm of training and racing, the blow runs deeper than just missing a start line. “I’ve never had a lower body injury that took me off the bike this long,” he says. “It’s the longest time I’ve been off the bike since I started cycling. When it’s your legs, you can’t do anything. You can’t even cook a meal without it being a massive effort.”

He's managed a few minutes on the trainer, “15 minutes at 20 watts,” and has now progressed to rides outdoors, “we’re not really talking about training”, he laughs. But real recovery will take time. There's no firm timeline, and he admits that the vague prognosis adds to the mental burden.

“Physically, sure, it’s bad. But mentally? It’s worse,” Dylan reflects. “You’re so used to daily exercise. Not just going for a walk, but making serious efforts nearly every day. And then suddenly… nothing. It’s a huge mental toll.”

Despite the frustration, he’s stayed grounded. “I’ve tried to keep perspective. I got hit by a truck, but I didn’t tear any ligaments. If I had, this whole season, and maybe next, would be gone. In a weird way, I got lucky.”

He’s also found strength in his support network. Roommates, friends, and fellow racers like Peta Mullens have stepped in to help. “You don’t realise how hard it is to cook or just move around with one leg until you have to do it. Crutches are brutal. But I’ve had help, and that’s made a difference.”

As for the rest of the 2025 season? “Leadville is the next Lifetime Grand Prix race, and I might be able to do it. I just won’t be in shape. But I want to finish the series, even if it’s ugly.”

The real target is later in the year. “Big Sugar is where I think I can actually show up in decent form. Maybe even Iceman, which I’ve never done before. Normally, it’s too late in the year for me, but since I’ve already had an off-season… I think I’ll be ready.”

There’s a strategic element at play, too. Dylan is realistic about how the Grand Prix operates. “Results matter, probably more than anything else. And they don’t have a long memory. Even big names like Alex Howes didn’t get invited back after a down year.”

His current results, disrupted by the crash, put his 2026 Grand Prix chances in jeopardy. “Honestly? My chances of getting back in next year are slim. I’ll use my drop race for Unbound, but Leadville likely won’t go well, and after that… It’s uncertain.”

Still, there’s a sliver of hope. “They’ve introduced wild card entries, Sea Otter, and Unbound results matter most for those. If I can get healthy and have a clean day at Unbound next year, maybe I can prove myself and wildcard back in.”

Through it all, Johnson remains pragmatic and even finds humour in the chaos. “I went through worse pain last fall when I had my tonsils removed,” he jokes. “That was the most sustained pain I’ve ever been in. At least now I can watch Netflix.”

His Bonk Bros co-hosts have rallied behind him, too. “We give each other shit all the time, but they were immediately supportive. Drew [Dillman] even offered to drive five hours to visit. I had to tell him not to; he had Unbound to worry about.”

At the end of the day, Dylan isn’t just dealing with a broken leg; he’s navigating a season that’s been reshaped overnight. But he’s not giving in. “This is temporary,” he says. “It sucks now, but I’ll get back to racing. One way or another.”

The Future

At 30 years old, Dylan is fully aware that he’s living in what might be his peak years as an athlete. And he has no plans to let that window close quietly.

“In my mind, you’re only going to be at your peak cycling age once in your life,” he says. “I want to maximise that for as long as I possibly can.”

That means, first and foremost, committing fully to pro gravel racing, at least for the next five years. The crash that sidelined his 2025 season may have interrupted that timeline, but it hasn’t shaken his long-term focus. “I’m really going to give it everything I’ve got while I still can,” he says. “When the time comes to retire, I’ll know I’ve left it all out there.”

But Johnson isn’t just a racer, he’s a coach, a content creator, and a data-driven voice in endurance cycling. And when his competitive chapter eventually closes, he won’t be fumbling in the dark. “I already kind of have my retirement plan set up,” he says. “It’s the coaching company. It’s the YouTube channel. That’s where I’ll focus more of my time once I step back from pro racing.”

Looking beyond his own path, Johnson is clear-eyed about where gravel is headed. “We’ve seen an evolution, especially on the pro side. It’s getting more cutthroat, more professional. Some would say it’s looking more and more like road racing every year.”

He believes that trend will continue, and likely accelerate. Bigger teams, more race-day tactics, and even tighter marginal gains. “I could easily see gravel teams forming with seven or eight riders. Riding for a leader, executing strategy, it’s already happening in subtle ways, but it could become the norm.”

Even race logistics are evolving. “The pits at Unbound this year were insane,” he says. “You’ve got to be in and out in under ten seconds now. It’s wild how dialled everything is becoming.”

But while he sees gravel’s pro scene edging toward road racing’s structure and intensity, Dylan hopes the amateur side holds onto its roots. “I really hope that part stays the same,” he says. “Where it’s just about getting to the finish line, enjoying the challenge, and meeting great people.”

That laid-back culture is something Dylan treasures, especially compared to the colder, more transactional feel of road racing. “When I came up in endurance mountain bike racing, the atmosphere was totally different. People hung out. They talked. It felt like a community,” he says. “You’d go to a road race, and it was just business. No one stuck around. No one really seemed like friends.”

Gravel, he says, struck a balance, and he hopes it keeps leaning in the right direction. “Gravel could’ve gone either way, towards road or mountain bike culture. I’m glad it’s chosen more of the mountain bike side, especially post-race. That party atmosphere, that camaraderie, that’s what makes it special.”

So what’s next for Dylan Johnson? In the short term, it’s recovery. In the medium term, it’s unfinished business on the race circuit. And in the long term, it’s a continued role in shaping how riders train, race, and think about performance in gravel cycling.

“There’s still a lot I want to accomplish as a racer,” he says. “But I also know the work I do off the bike, whether it’s coaching or YouTube, is just as valuable to a lot of people. That’s what I want to build into the next phase.”

Whatever the future holds, whether it’s tighter team strategies or turbocharged pit stops, Dylan’s path remains clear: race hard while the legs allow it, and build something lasting that outlives the podiums. Gravel may be changing, but his direction is unwavering. 

As long as it makes him faster.