– By Christine Kassar
BANG. BANG. BANG. I jump about a foot from my cozy perch on the recliner, our black lab howls with delight and my partner Nick asks, “You expecting anyone?” “Nope,” I say, shaking my head and pressing pause on the movie in progress. Having just moved to sleepy Salida, a visit from anyone other than the UPS man startles us. I throw open the creaky red door and find Sam Bricker and Nathan Ward, the creative minds behind Grit and Thistle Film Company, buzzing with frenetic energy in the calm, cool summer air. They apologize for bugging us this late, but say it’s important.
Bricker and Ward settle on the couch and try to relax, but a palpable mix of excitement and fear oozes from their direction. With a few giant slurps, they drain the beers I toss their way. I muster all my strength to quell the barrage of questions bouncing around my head and we share an awkward, silent moment.
When we met them two weeks ago, their brilliance, passion and creativity quickly made a strong impression, but we haven’t seen them since and I honestly have no idea why they’re sitting in our living room right now. They fidget a bit, we fill the space with small talk and then, when her emboldened by the alcohol or a sudden feeling of comfort, words flow.
“We’re working on a film about Mike Rust, a hall of fame mountain biker who vanished without a trace years ago.” This simple statement from Bricker opens the floodgates. Amidst a furious volley of sentences, Bricker and Ward weave together the plot of an action-packed western murder mystery. Unfortunately, there’s nothing fictional about what they tell us.
Near dark on March 31, 2009, Mike Rust returned to the unique homestead he built on 80 acres of wild land outside of the tiny town of Saguache. He noticed motorcycle tracks heading around the west side; you would only park there to remain hidden from view, so he entered him home on high alert. His binoculars were slightly out of place and a revolver was missing. These clues confirmed his worst fears. In a fit of rage, he called a friend and told her he was going to follow the tracks heading away from his house. That was the last anyone heard of this beloved, humble, free-spirited 56-year-old visionary.
Mike pioneered many of the best bike trails in Colorado, made countless innovative contributions that shaped the bicycles we ride today and he helped push Salida to the top of Colorado riding fame. Despite these stellar accomplishments and a place in the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame, few people know his name and even fewer know what happened after he went in search of a simpler life.
Evidence found shortly after he vanished, including a blood-stained gun butt and vest, suggests that Mike met a ghastly end after catching up with whomever had disturbed his home. But, with no body or definitive answers, Mike’s disappearance leaves countless unanswered questions and even more broken hearts.
“There was a little blip of news around the time he vanished and then the story disappeared. I thought someone needed to tell it,” says Ward, a writer and photographer raised in Salida. “You don’t always find compelling stories in your backyard, but this one is worth telling and spending life energy on.”
Ward had been looking for an opportunity to make the leap to film so he approached Bricker, a local filmmaker who shares his passion for cycling and meaningful work. Rather than heed multiple warnings to leave the past in its place, this duo jumped in the deep end and started digging. At first, their inquiries met with resistance and fear, but with persistence and time, they gained the trust of Mike’s family and friends. From then on, staying silent about this tragedy wasn’t an option. “When we first went to Mike’s property with his brothers and stood on the very spot where Mike most likely died, we knew we had to tell this tale,” says Bricker. Shooting a bike scene near Salida, the filmmakers use some of the most advanced camera gear available. (Left to right) Claude DeMoss, the soundman/editor; Chris Vallier from Flot; and Director Sam Bricker get to work.
But, even these intrepid veteran storytellers didn’t realize exactly what that would entail or how all encompassing this story would become. When they banged on our door late one night last July, they were beginning to figure it out.
Earlier that day, Marty Rust, the youngest of seven in Mike’s clan had phoned with promising news: an informant had specific directions that would supposedly lead to Mike’s bones. Moved by their dedication to Mike’s story, Marty had come to trust Bricker and Ward so he called to see if they would join the hunt.
“He wanted to go down with a posse, but didn’t know if it was a set-up or an ambush (by the perpetrators or someone related to them) or not. That was our clue to come prepared and armed,” says Bricker.
Ward and Bricker, who are both fathers and husbands, started “freaking themselves out.” They had come to our house seeking advice from my ex-Army Ranger boyfriend who they thought would “know about this stuff.” They wanted to support Marty, who remains committed to the search and doggedly pursues any lead that may bring him closer to justice, but they began to question the wisdom of tagging along on such a risky venture. Though we were fa
scinated, we didn’t have many answers. The following morning, Bricker joined the search for Mike’s remains while Ward stayed home. The two admit that determining how deeply to get involved has been a constant and challenging process.
“This time our team was split,” says Ward. “You can’t tell a story accurately without being involved to some level, but you can tell it without getting overly entrenched. I didn’t want to become part of the story, so I decided not to go. Everyone has to make their own call, especially since we’re dealing with an unsolved murder.”
Driven by a desire to make a difference these budding filmmakers have gracefully endured countless harrowing experiences and have pushed through fear to craft The Rider and The Wolf, a docu-narrative about Mike’s contribution to mountain biking and the affect that five years of fruitless searching has had on his tight knit family.
“Just think about what it would be like to lose a brother or sister and not know…never know perhaps in this case,” says Ward. “A vital part of their life has been ripped out. They’re still hurting and looking for resolution.”
D
espite noble motivations, the pair admit this effort has been far from easy or typical. In a year of filming throughout Colorado, they’ve gone on body hunts for bones where everyone is armed to the teeth, dropped cameras down mine shafts to see what’s down there, interviewed trackers, psychics and people who are still out there looking for Mike Rust and traded peace of mind for nightmares. “I’ve been on edge,” says Bricker who admits he’s started sleeping with a gun nearby because whoever killed Mike could be watching or show up at any time. Uncertainty — the kind that comes from not knowing who committed such heinous acts in your own backyard — has taken an emotional toll on these two young men and their families.
Incredibly, these toils have strengthened, not shaken their resolve to share Mike’s story through a piece that tests the limits of adventure film. To this end, they have created a “mountain biking film turned murder mystery” that explores larger, relevant themes like self-protection rights, family breakdowns and the worldwide missing person epidemic.
“This is a real-life western with outlaws, cowboys on horseback, and reward posters. Mike’s plight is the reality of life in the West where lawlessness still rules,” says Bricker who contends that the silent, giant expanse of the San Luis Valley and the breathtaking yet menacing Sangre de Cristo peaks played a role in Mike’s saga. “The valley just feels different. You have to experience it to understand it…Here Mike found the freedom and independence he needed, but it was the pursuit and defense of these values that ultimately led to his demise. Thus, this unique part of the West acts as another character in our film. What happened couldn’t have taken place in the same way somewhere else…”
They are quick to point out, however, that the goal of the film is not to solve the crime, but to tell the tale as they feel it should have been told in the beginning. “Mike shaped mountain biking, but he chose a different path. Just because you move out to the middle of nowhere and live simply, your life is not worth any less,” says Ward.
To highlight the role of the landscape and to properly celebrate the life of this largely unknown, but extremely influential cyclist, Bricker and Ward took extra steps to maintain authenticity. They used Mike’s personal possessions and bikes he built as props and they filmed riding scenes on Mike-pioneered trails. With help from Mike’s family and information from his last phone call and the police report, they also re-created the last hours of Mike’s life; local actor Curtis Imrie plays Mike and the Rust brothers play the perpetrators.
“That was an eerie, unnerving, emotional experience for us all,” says Bricker of shooting on the exact day and hour he disappeared and at the exact spot where the searchers found Mike’s bloody vest. Filming inside Mike’s home.
Even with only one camera, a three-person crew, a number of non-actors and “pure guerilla filmmaking techniques” they pulled off an extremely accurate reenactment. “At the end, he’s lying on the ground in the dark in the exact spot where Mike was probably knocked out or killed,” says Ward. This potent and dramatic moment drives home how lonely, scary and vulnerable it must have felt to chase strangers through a sea of sagebrush in the dark.
“The immensity of the landscape breeds a hopeless feeling. You can imagine the hopelessness that the searchers must have felt in the days following his disappearance and what Mike’s family must feel every time they go down there. It’s not a needle in a haystack; it’s much worse than that.”
What makes Bricker and Ward’s feat even more amazing is that their RED Epic video camera — the same one used to shoot The Hobbit and Spiderman — arrived the day before the shoot. The duo had been to a five-day training camp in Hollywood, but that was the sum total of their experience with the camera. As partners with complementary skills, they leaned on each other; Bricker confidently handled the technical aspects and maintained the vision required of a director while Ward drew on his photography and writing expertise to compose shots and bring life to the story.
Once back in the editing room, the real work began. With more than 9,000 video clips, countless sound bites, footage from dated TV interviews and inspiring narration written by Ward, the editors had a daunting task. “Fitting together all the parts to complete the beautiful 10,000-piece puzzle before me was daunting,” says Bricker about editing his longest film to date. “We only had one shot to tell this story and I wanted to make sure the film honored Mike and got people talking.”
Powered solely by the idea that they could make a difference, Bricker and Ward made the most of their “one shot”. Despite, or perhaps because of, the challenges and pressure of the last year, they created a unique adventure film that delves into mystery and pays tribute to an incredible man and those who continue to wander the Colorado hills in his name.Mike and his bikes.
“We’re probably stupid to confront danger and mystery in our own backyard, but once you get so far in, you have to keep going,” says Ward. “Most people with missing family don’t get another chance. This is their last chance and we want to show them someone cares.”
The Rust family is still offering a $25,000 reward for information regarding Mike’s disappearance.
Submit any tips here: Missing Mike Rust (http://www.missingmikerust.com/)
See the trailer at: The Rider and the Wolf Movie (http://www.riderandwolfmovie.com/)
Learn more at: Grit and Thistle Film Company (http://www.gritandthistle.com/)
Christine Kassar of Salida is an accomplished writer, editor and photographer specializing in outdoor adventures.
Watch our “welcome” video from the March issue of Colorado Country Life: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O763Gu9Rmbs