The last thirteen miles of our trip were a gift from Bryce Canyon National Park. In the trees away from the road hid a beautifully paved two lane bike path. We exited the skinny shoulder of the road and left the passing cars behind.… Continue Reading “Bikepacking Diaries 007: Is That A Real Bike?”
“I hate pedaling on pavement,” I muttered, throwing my bike down and sitting in what little shade the bushes offered. Ensue rant: This is dangerous and stupid. American roads were made by bastards. Why is there no shoulder? Heaven forbid a bicycle lane be… Continue Reading “Bikepacking Diaries 006: A Hump Day Breakdown”
“Pavement is a good place to get into a strong mental space,” Ian said. “I’ve worked through a lot of inner conflict on pavement.” Yeah yeah yeah, Yogi Yoda bike shit, sure. My reaction to the steady uphill, steep and grueling in the rising… Continue Reading “Bikepacking Diaries 005: Pavement State of Mind”
16 miles before breakfast and coffee. 90 degrees by 9am. Hangry and hot. Pavement pedaling into town. The hole in Ian’s pants is exposing his whole right cheek. Needs new pants. My ass hurts. Butt bruise is getting bigger every day. Need padded pants.… Continue Reading “Bikepacking Diaries 004: Hot & Bothered”
While bikepacking, there are many things to get pissed at. Like a puncture in my water bottle. The one with the sticker I liked. Never get attached to water bottles, they’re fickle. You buy, they break. They break when you need them most like when a desert stretch is coming up where water carrying capacity is the key element to living.
Day 2 What’s in a sunrise? Bleary eyed shivers. Determination and stupidity to unzip that sleeping bag. A quiet calm in the darkness and a sense of anticipation. Watching, waiting, and observing every shift of light. Hot water bubbling, coffee steaming. Waiting for it to cool… Continue Reading “Bikepacking Diaries 002: Fuck The Plan”
The desert is flooding. The Boundary Waters are on fire and closed for the first time in forty five years. Every single National Forest in California is closed. The Bootleg Fire in Oregon is bigger than New York City, casting a hazy smoke across… Continue Reading “Bikepacking Diaries 000-1: We Need A Sign To Start”