From Barcelona to the mountains of Japan, Sam Roy has built a life around cycling, travel, and meaningful human connections. We caught up with him to talk about adventure, community, and what it takes to trust a bike when the road leads far from home.
There are people who see cycling as a way to push their limits. Others see it as a way to discover the world. For Sam Roy, it's both.
Originally from Montreal and now based in Barcelona, Sam spends much of the year leading cycling adventures across the globe. From the remote gravel roads of Mongolia to the mountains of Japan, he continues to explore with the same curiosity: seeking out new landscapes, cultures, and human connections.
We caught up with Sam during his latest adventure in Japan aboard the B01 to talk about his journey, his favorite destinations, the importance of community, what makes a bike truly reliable when you're far from home, and everything that happens between two pedal strokes.
You grew up in Montreal, now live in Barcelona, and spend a good part of the year leading cycling trips around the world. When did you realize cycling was going to become much more than just a sport in your life?
Ever since I was a kid, I've always said that if I could have one superpower, it would be the ability to fly. Honestly, cycling is the closest thing to that. Every time I ride, I feel this incredible sense of freedom that truly moves me. There's also the human side of it—the cycling community is something really special.
My passion began with my first bike, a yellow Miele with flames painted on it. That's where my first adventures started. From there, everything unfolded naturally. I try to live my life by trusting my intuition, and it's led me to the right people, the right opportunities, and, little by little, to a life where cycling has become much more than a sport. Even today, I continue to follow that momentum.
After riding on several continents, which country or region surprised you the most on a bike? Not necessarily the most beautiful, but the one that was nothing like you expected.
I'd say Central Asia, especially Mongolia, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. I'd heard great things about them, but the reality exceeded my expectations. To me, it's the perfect playground for bikepacking: incredible landscapes, incredibly welcoming people, and a real sense of adventure.
Mongolia, in particular, has an almost endless network of gravel roads that lets you ride in virtually any direction. It's a unique feeling of freedom. I highly recommend riding the Pamir Highway, between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, as soon as you can—before it's fully paved and becomes a major transportation corridor between China, the Middle East, and Europe.
As a guide, you witness people experiencing unforgettable moments every week. Is there one story or encounter that always comes to mind when people ask why you do this?
For me, the most memorable moments are always tied to meeting local people. One experience comes to mind every time. It happened in Sudan, in 2019, near Dongola. While I was riding, two young men waved me down. After chatting for a few minutes, they invited me to have dinner with their family.
At first, I wondered whether I should trust them. Then I thought, "This is exactly why I travel." We walked for about twenty minutes through the desert, barefoot in the sand, until we reached their small village, where their mother prepared an incredible traditional meal for us.
During dinner, I had an amazing conversation with the two brothers. They told me about their daily lives, their faith, and what Islam meant to them. It truly opened my eyes and gave me a deeper understanding of a reality I didn't know—far beyond the stereotypes and assumptions we often have from the outside.
At the end of the meal, I wanted to thank their mother, but in Sudan, where Muslim traditions are very conservative, I couldn't meet her in person. Instead, I thanked her from the other side of the kitchen wall.
I left that place with a full heart, reminding myself once again why I travel: for these spontaneous encounters, for saying yes to unexpected opportunities, and for growing through human connections that could never be planned.
Barcelona is known for its cycling culture, but what has the city taught you about life in general? Is there a Spanish mindset or habit you'd love to bring back to Quebec?
What I love most about life in Barcelona is the sense of community. It truly feels like a place where people choose to live—both locals and newcomers—and you can feel it. Whatever you're passionate about, there's a community built around it, bringing people together through shared interests.
What makes this city especially meaningful to me is that I've found a community of people who intentionally choose to step outside the norm and build lives that align with their values and passions. It feels good to be understood and connected with people who see life in a similar way, especially since I've chosen a lifestyle that's a little unconventional.
You're currently in Japan. What's the most fascinating thing you've observed there that has nothing to do with cycling?
One of my favorite things about Japan is its culture of quality. I get the impression that people genuinely care about everything they do. Everything seems to be made with care, intention, love, and even a certain sense of honor. Whether it's everyday objects, buildings, food, or customer service, there's an attention to detail and a pursuit of excellence that I've never experienced anywhere else.
As someone who's passionate about woodworking, I notice it especially in the architecture of temples, ryokans, and traditional buildings. The level of precision and craftsmanship is remarkable. There's a purity in the execution that fascinates me, and that same attention to detail can be found in the cuisine and in everyday life as well.
When you head out for several weeks with a single bike and have to rely on it every day, what details become truly important?
When I spend several weeks traveling with one bike, the reality is that I'm often riding through completely different environments. I need a bike that's not only high-performing, but above all versatile. A bike that's fast and comfortable on pavement, yet equally capable when it's loaded with gear, tackling long stretches of gravel, or even riding singletrack.
The other essential factor is reliability. I'm often far away from the nearest bike shop—or any place where I could repair my bike. I need a bike I can truly rely on, one that's built with quality so I can ride with complete peace of mind, wherever the adventure takes me.
You're riding the B01 on this trip. Was there a specific moment in Japan when you thought, "This is exactly the kind of adventure this bike was built for"?
Honestly, it happened right from the beginning of the trip. As soon as I saw the B01 loaded with bikepacking bags and rode my first few kilometers, I had a really good feeling. I was incredibly comfortable on the wide gravel tires, while still getting that light, responsive ride that I love from my road bike.
That's when I realized I had the right tool for this adventure—a bike versatile enough to take me anywhere, without ever feeling like I was making a compromise, no matter what kind of terrain lay ahead.
