Rider’s Lens: Cataloging Inspiration with Washedog

Words and illustrations by Camilo Parra

Hi, I’m Camilo Parra, but I often go by Washedog. I’m a multidisciplinary designer born and raised in Bogotá, Colombia, in the eastern part of the three mountain ranges or “cordilleras.” I’m currently broadcasting from the wet and a little lower mountains in Medellín. I have a deep love for drawing, illustration, and visual arts. It’s a love that started during my university days when I studied advertising, and it still burns my soul—and my notebooks, in the best sense of the word.

I’m always searching for new adventures around the world or just a weekend outside the city, wherever the bike takes me. Close to home, I enjoy finding and getting to know new routes, villages, and people. I sometimes get lost on trails in the mountains, of which we have many here, and I consider losing my way part of the fun of riding. The combination of a dense network of trails and uniquely rugged terrain always makes for an adventure.

• 
• 
• 

Since graduating, I’ve almost always worked as a graphic designer for advertising agencies, except for the past three years, during which I’ve been working for a local fashion label. As a textile designer, I have been able to experiment with analog and digital techniques for clothing and physical spaces. It’s been fun to apply my graphic designs to things like surfboards and skateboards, and I’ve had a lot of artistic freedom to experiment in my current role.

I appreciate working on things with my hands and the style it gives to the illustrations and graphic universes I create. Combining analog techniques with the digital world is the perfect marriage for me, almost like a tent and a bicycle. They just work together. My passion for bringing hand-drawn flare and mixing materials has led to some fun opportunities, including working with Scarab Cycles. I did some bike frame illustrations for their fifth anniversary that feature a variety of endemic beetles. I really liked working with their creative team and seeing the illustrations on the final product out in the world.

• 
• 

When I’m out riding my bike, I tend to find a lot of inspiration, no matter how long the trip is. The biggest trips I’ve taken so far have been to Argentina and Chilean Patagonia, and I’ve also bikepacked around Cuba and Costa Rica. Something about maps has always been fascinating to me, too, especially when mixing in bikes, and I even worked with some friends to turn this passion for mapping into a gravel race, the Machete Gravel Race here in Medellín.

I firmly believe that diaries contain a more comprehensive catalog of memories from a trip than photos do, and I enjoy keeping written notes and sketches from my travels. They feel like a flashback to the place and the memories, and revisiting my sketchbooks and journals transports me to the details of unique moments in my life. Sometimes, reliving a memory through an entry in my diary is an incredibly moving experience. For now, I’ve found it to be the most accessible and immediate way to travel. 

• 
• 

• 
• 
• 

Bicycles have always been present in my life ever since my parents gave me my first one for Christmas back in the mid-90s. It was a purple bicycle with yellow and red brushstrokes, inspired by the Lion King movie. My bicycle memories take me to very pleasant times in my childhood, like when one day my mother took my cousins and me to see a stage of the Vuelta a Colombia, the famous Colombian road cycle race, by bicycle. We saw the riders going up the famous Alto de Letras, the most famous mountain pass of Colombian cycling, internationally known for being the longest in the world, according to the UCI. Luckily, the climb starts in Mariquita (Tolima), a little town near Bogotá, where I used to spend my holidays.

Cycling and Colombia always go hand in hand. Cycling is part of Colombian culture, it’s in our DNA. These days, it’s hard to see my life without a bike. I think it’s an extension of me, and I plan bike trips all the time. Some are short-term trips, and others just stay in a .gpx file; traveling and the act of moving really resonate with me. Moving by bicycle is one of the best ways to awaken my curiosity and get to know what’s behind that mountain, that tree, that moor. I’ve spoken about my love of riding a handful of times on the Gravel y Aventura podcast.

As an artist, there is no greater human vulnerability than facing a blank page, and the same applies to a bike trip. You never know nearly as much as you think. You just have to try and let yourself be surprised; the magic comes in the letting go and letting flow. It’s beautiful parallel between drawing and bikepacking.

• 
• 
• 

• 
• 

Drawing is an exercise of memory, of basic human expression. There’s not a single trip in which a notebook and a pencil are not on my check list. Whether chronicling a trip, drawing something, or writing down an address, a grocery list, or an occurrence, pen and paper are also great for recording the therapy sessions the bike gives us—the kind of internal dialogue we often experience when we ride a bike. The notebook is indispensable, and as I said, the graphic or written record it carries is extraordinary.

My main tools are watercolors, gouache, drawing pens, graphite pencils, oil pastels, brushes, Indian ink, and crayons. My essential bike travel kit is less robust than my studio kit and typically includes a notebook, a Bic pen, watercolors, and brushes. This setup is incredibly compact and yet puts almost no limitations on me.

Having recently arrived back from a bikepacking trip in Patagonia, I’m opening more space for my freelance projects and excited to work on a more diverse mix of things. I’m ready to put all my inspiration and aesthetics into a fresh variety of multidisciplinary projects for people and brands who appreciate a collaborative approach.

• 
• 
• 

Beyond work, my next adventure is already around the corner, and I hope to travel a little of Europe in this summer to enjoy the Tour de France and new routes and cultures of a few countries there. It’s important to me to be intentional about soaking up the culture, the popular graphics, and the streets of the big cities and then making space to escape to nature so I can process everything and ease my mind and spirit with less visual pollution. Through trial and error, I’ve found that being in sponge mode and then taking time to decompress after makes me feel the most ready to open the notebook and face a blank page.

• 
• 

You can see more of Washedog’s work on Instagram, Behance, and Pinterest.

Further Reading

Make sure to dig into these related articles for more info...