"No salary. No support. No stability." America's cyclocross champion sounds the alarm about the sport’s fading future—and the situation is more serious than most realize.
Cyclocross, once a celebrated branch of American cycling, is facing its toughest chapter yet. The United States no longer hosts its traditional World Cup rounds, major sponsors have shifted their focus (and funds) toward the booming gravel scene, and top athletes are turning away from this demanding winter discipline. According to national champion Andrew Strohmeyer, things are dire enough that even he—America’s top cyclocross rider—receives no salary for his efforts.
That revelation is jarring, especially from a country that hosted the cyclocross World Championships only a few years ago. Strohmeyer shared in an interview with Wielerflits that the entire scene is struggling to stay alive: “The gravel boom completely took over from cyclocross. Riders, sponsors, even bike brands have moved on. Participation and audience numbers have dropped sharply.”
The harsh economics of passion
Young riders are leaving the sport in droves, frustrated by the lack of financial opportunities. Strohmeyer notes that all the prize money now flows into gravel racing. “It’s not even an Olympic sport,” he says, “but it’s new and exciting, and that seems to be enough for people.” Despite being tempted by that same shift, Strohmeyer remains loyal to cyclocross—driven by passion rather than paycheck. At just 23, he still has years to grow, yet the threat of financial strain constantly looms.
But here’s where it gets controversial: even though he’s the national champion, Strohmeyer admits he earns nothing from the sport. “I don’t get a salary—no American rider does,” he explains. “A few sponsors give me small amounts, but that’s all. My main goal is to prove myself in Europe, perform well, and hopefully sign with a team there. That would change everything.” In pursuit of that dream, he’s even planning to skip the U.S. national championships to stay in Europe through winter.
Gravel gains, cyclocross loses
Strohmeyer doesn’t shy away from pointing fingers. He blames the national cycling federation for deliberately prioritizing gravel racing—arguably a more American product—over the traditional discipline. “You can’t win prize money at any national cyclocross championship in the U.S. That’s been true for years. But suddenly, gravel events are offering over $12,000 in prizes. It’s absurd. How can riders stay loyal to cyclocross under those conditions?”
The same decline shows in infrastructure. The once-celebrated World Cup races in Waterloo and Fayetteville have vanished from the schedule. Fewer races, condensed seasons, and higher travel costs have made it harder for American riders to compete internationally. For Strohmeyer, these changes are a major setback: “The World Cup rounds here were great, but what really matters is having an American capable of fighting for wins in Europe. That’s how the sport grows.”
Battling timing and geography
There’s another overlooked challenge—timing. The American cyclocross calendar happens mostly in September through November. By the time riders like Strohmeyer fly to Europe for the main World Cup season, they’re already worn out. “We start racing too early,” he says. “By the time the big European events come around, we’re past our physical peak.”
To fix that, Strohmeyer made a bold move. He competed selectively in U.S. races—like the eight-event Trek Cup and the Pan-American Championships—while maintaining base fitness for Europe’s December–February stretch. That choice paid off, as he won both domestic titles, beating established riders such as Eric Brunner. But few are willing to make the same sacrifice.
Building a future abroad
When Strohmeyer finally debuted in Europe at the Hamme Flandriencross, he finished 21st. A week later, he stunned many by placing 12th in the Tabor World Cup, ahead of names like Pim Ronhaar and Toon Vandebosch. That result cemented his determination to stay in Europe longer, seeking a professional contract that would allow him to focus full-time—without financial stress.
He recalls training once with Belgian legend Sven Nys: “It’s amazing how they push each other to improve. If I could ride with that group regularly, I’d grow so much faster. Cameron Mason did it with the Roodhooft brothers, and look at him now.”
For Strohmeyer, the dream is simple: more international collaboration, more visibility, and a revival of cyclocross as a global passion rather than a niche pursuit. “If riders from different countries can compete at the front, the sport only benefits,” he says. “The more international it becomes, the better for everyone.”
But here’s the uncomfortable question: can pure love for the sport survive when passion no longer pays? Or is cyclocross in America destined to become a fading memory, buried under the gravel boom?
What’s your take—should U.S. Cycling refocus on saving cyclocross, or is the market simply choosing its new favorite discipline? Share your perspective below.
