MOLLY CAMERON NEVER WANTED TO BE ANYTHING BUT HERSELF

FOR 20 YEARS, THE OPENLY TRANSGENDER BIKE RACER PUT UP WITH DISCRIMINATION. NOW, AS ANTI-LGBTQ LEGISLATION SWEEPS THE NATION, SHE FINDS HERSELF LEADING A HIGH-STAKES EFFORT TO MAKE CYCLING SAFE AND INCLUSIVE.

-  Frankie de la Cretaz

MOLLY CAMERON CAN’T REMEMBER HOW LONG SHE’S BEEN RACING BIKES.

Since the late 1990s, for sure—maybe 1998, or perhaps 1999. She doesn’t spend too much time trying to pinpoint a moment in the past. She’s too busy working on the future.

Few people in the bike world can remember a time when Cameron wasn’t present in the racing community. When folks talk about her, they all say a version of the same thing: “Molly has always just been Molly”; “Molly has just always been around.”

In fact, the 45-year-old has been involved in cycling for more than two decades, both on the racing scene and as the longtime owner of a bike shop in Portland, Oregon. Everyone knew that Cameron’s situation was different, but it never really registered because, again, Molly was just Molly.

And while the sport and the industry have been her life and her livelihood, they have also, in many ways, failed her. She’s been an openly transgender athlete since a time when people in sports knew even less about what to do with trans athletes than they do today. But she put her head down, rode her bike, and pretended she wasn’t bothered by the roadblocks that were thrown in her way.

“I never led with my identity or my politics,” Cameron says. “I was just, like, ‘I’m here to ride my bike and try to ride my bike as fast I can.’ Everything else came second. I never hid it. I’m an openly transgender athlete, but I’ve never wanted to push.”