Author: Laura

wife. mother. kick-ass girl. all mountain, all road adventurer by bike.

Ned Gravel 2026

haven’t had event whiplash like this since Rasputitsa and LuLacka WyCo

Back in 2024, I had a stack of events that turned out to be a mixed bag. I always enjoyed doing my annual Frozen Apple Ride because it’s deliberately hard and deliberately too early in the season for anyone to feel like it’s a reasonable route. The goal, as always, is not to take ourselves too seriously and just enjoy the day.

I finally rode the fabled Rasputitsa, unfortunately marred by my crippling, uncontrolled anxiety. (Thank you, Karen, for sticking with me) But also, unfortunately, marred by its own success. You can read about it here; the TL;DR is … I expected a significantly more inclusive, non-race-focused event than it turned out to be. (When the Finish Festival is completely torn down by the time you finish, that’s a sign)

A few weeks later, I rode LuLackaWyCo, another storied gravel ride that was a complete 180 from my Raspitutsa experience (although still featuring crippling, uncontrolled anxiety). You can read about that event here; the TL;DR is that the event was super grassroots, even after so many years, and celebrated ordinary cyclists doing bonkers things. Yes, there was a race component, but the non-racers were led out by the founder. Class.

This year’s back-to-backs were SBT GVL and Ned Gravel, two events I signed up for once we knew we’d be back in Colorado. While my SBT GVL experience lacked the homegrown community vibe, Ned Gravel delivered in spades.

Let’s start with Nederland, Colorado – a funky small mountain town known for it’s hippie, chill vibe and Frozen Dead Guy Days. Where Steamboat Springs feels polished and wealthy, Nederland has somehow avoided gentrification and looks like a true small mountain town. There was no shortage of travelers and wanderers around the town. Sitting at 8,235′ above sea level and surrounded by several Wilderness areas and National Parks, Nederland is a fantastic place to start many outdoor adventures.

Ned Gravel features four courses – the 50 and 73 being race-oriented with time cutoffs, while the 10 and 20 milers hit the highlights without spending the whole day on the bike. Everything I heard about the event focused on inclusivity and community, with several people raving about the courses. I originally signed up for the 50 miler, but as the event drew closer, the realities of hard climbing at elevation felt Real – and I dropped to the 20 mi course.

With the drop to the 20 miler, I decided my Cutthroat would be overkill and selected my around-town bike, Hildegard the Surly Ogre, as my bike of choice. My Surly is beefier, heavier, and sports a 24-pack rack and half-basket out front.

In other words, the perfect bike for a ride that I didn’t want to take too seriously.

The weather out in Colorado has been brutally hot lately (low-to-mid-90s most days), so I was thrilled to be in the mountains, where it would be decidedly cooler. The 10 and 20 milers started at 8am under blue skies and upper-60s for temps (almost perfect). Most riders were on their drop-bar gravel bikes, with a few people on mountain bikes. I didn’t see anyone else on a “regular” bike like mine, much less with a basket out front.

I couldn’t finish my chorizo breakfast burrito – so I carefully bundled it up and put it in my “burrito” bag on my handlebars.

In short order, we were climbing up the Peak to Peak highway to our first side road. Once again, there were cyclists for as far as the eye could see, which is always a cool sight. As we turned onto Ridge Rd, riders started dispersing. With 4 hills over 20 miles, and each hill about 3 miles long, I decided to dial back my efforts and just enjoy the ride. Hildegard isn’t the most nimble bike in the garage, but she’s strong and stable. Before I knew it, the road was tipping back down with stunning views of the mountains peeking through.

The course resumed climbing up the Peak to Peak Highway to our next dirt road (and still more climbing). It’s starting to feel really hot out, and I’m questioning if leaving my other attire option, a Dead Kennedys muscle shirt, back in my car was a smart choice. Fortunately, the next climb featured some fairly regular shade – which isn’t a given in Colorado! The aid station was at the top, but I rolled straight through. I had plenty of water and snacks for the whole ride.

The 4-mile descent back down the Peak to Peak Highway was amazing and refreshing; a wonderful respite from the climb!

The course then sent us towards the Caribou Ranch Open Space for another 3-mile climb – this time with minimal shade. I ended up pushing my bike up the last half of the steepest part of the climb to give myself a break from pedaling my strong and sturdy bike up all the hills. At one point, I stopped in the shade to cool off and drink water when another rider called out, “You should have your dog in that front basket!” Which – super adorbs but not for my dogs.

we went camping with our little anxiety dogs earlier in the week

Continuing on, the course then turns into a wonderfully gentle climb on two-track before taking a turn to head downhill back into town. Brilliantly, the organizers placed the race’s finish-line touchpads 1 mile outside of town to prevent people from racing through town. Once past those, I slowed to just soak in the last bits of forest before getting back on pavement.

Upon crossing the final touchpads under the arch, the MC called out, “You are a Champ. There are some people who are just born to ride bikes – and that’s demonstrated by that young lady right there.” In that moment, my choice to bring a heavy steel bike with a basket to the ride was worth every moment where I thought “oh man, my Cutthroat would be much easier to ride up the hills on this course.”

Overall Verdict: Ned Gravel is exactly what my soul needed to restore faith in larger events (over 700 people registered).

Where the ranchers outside Steamboat had signs indicating they don’t care for the gravel bike race, it felt like the whole town of Nederland was out cheering everyone on. Families were out by the road ringing cowbells, kids were screaming “good job!” to everyone that rode by, and the stoke was high. I didn’t see any race litter (although to be fair, I wasn’t on the longer routes, so I have no idea … but the longer rides went out much earlier than I did and rode the same roads to start).

THIS is what I mean by preferring grassroots, local events over massive productions. The only thing that would have made this event better would be riding it with friends. Maybe next year.

See you out there!

SBT GVL 2026

I actually went this time

My first go-round with SBT GVL was a bust. At the end of 2023, I put a bunch of events on my calendar for early 2024, intending to be super strong and proud of my progressive accomplishments.

I spent my winter doing structured workouts on the trainer and ignoring my grief and anxiety. I worked a lot. I gave myself a full-blown panic attack at work that settled into a year-long mental hurdle to put myself back together. By August, it would be a game-day decision (or very close thereto).

Spoilers: I decided not to go.

Fast forward to October 2025, and we are selling our house in New York to move back home to Colorado. I put my name into the SBT GVL lottery again, thinking I’d rather try to get in again than wish I had after we move.

Here’s the thing about SBT GVL

When SBT GVL first announced itself in 2019, I was excited to see what looked like a grassroots ride in a beautiful part of Colorado. Steamboat Springs is known for it’s “champagne powder” and beautiful surroundings. Over time, SBT GVL has grown into a massive corporate ride.

  • The ride is not cheap – for the non-race courses (74, 53, 25), it was about $200; the fancy race is even more.
  • There are no refunds or transfers. If you defer to the following year, you still have to pay again. No refunds are a common limitation because events require a lot of cash up front. The no-transfers policy and still having to pay again if you defer does not feel great though.
  • Add on lodging, food, and other travel expenses …. it’s not a cheap ride.
  • The final kicker is that locals living on the ranchland outside the town tend not to like the event. Things have apparently improved since the 2023 race – but let’s not pretend there weren’t people who chose to not wait for the on-course port-o-potties or left sports nutrition wrappers carelessly on the course.

That’s great and all – how was the ride actually, now that you’ve experienced it?

I’m being a total bike snob when I say I think I’ve outgrown big organized events. Especially ones that seem to cater to wealthy ex-roadies. Although it IS very cool seeing a swarm of bicyclists for as far as the eyes can see.

My first gravel ride, back in 2017, was in Vermont on hilly terrain. I am not exaggerating when I say the rest stop was a wooden picnic table in someone’s side yard. Offerings included pickles, homemade chocolate-covered bacon, a kiddie pool full of ice, and PBRs … and the water came from a hose connected to the tap on the side of the house. When a guy in a rainbow tie-dyed muscle shirt and jorts, wearing flip-flops and riding what looked like a beach cruiser with a plastic basket on the front, flew by me for most of the ride, I knew I had found my like-minded weird bike people.

In all fairness, I found this writeup that extolls the virtues of SBT GVL as one of the more important events in the world – right up there with another wildly corporate race-focused event Unbound.

It really comes down to personal preferences:

  • I don’t need a big vendor festival/expo – especially when the booths are for high-end, pricey gear and vacations.
  • Free coffee at the start really isn’t necessary.
  • The route was just fine. The vistas were excellent, and the sweeping, winding downhills were fast and fun. But generally, it was just Colorado’s wide open skies and long climbs.
  • I did not stay for the post-ride meal, so I can’t comment on whether that made the price worth it.

OK, we get it. This isn’t an event for you

I feel like I knew that going into the ride. But Past Laura didn’t want Future Laura to have FOMO from not registering. Past Laura miscalculated.

Were there any highlights for you?

a few!

One, my sister came up with me for the weekend. We had a great time on the drive up, picking up snacks to watch a movie at the hotel, ordering dinner in, and flipping through channels when we realized we hadn’t brought a streaming device for the hotel television. After packet pickup, we went thrifting and wandered around Main Street. We went to the witch shop, and each of us received a tarot reading that really hit home. It was interesting that the reader originally grew up in Massachusetts, so we all bonded over New England regional cuisine.

Two, I finally got to meet two of my personal cycling icons! Joanne, Ellen, and I have known each other online since 2018, when I became a Pactimo Brand Ambassador. We’ve only communicated online, so it was a real treat to have lunch with them the day before the race. Joanne and Ellen travel widely and participate in many cycling events, and they are very strong riders. Their son is a magician in NYC! My sister even nerded out with Ellen about women’s hockey.

Three, Cow Creek. I wish I could have stopped and taken photos. The road is chunky like West Virginia gravel and winds its way through open cow-grazing pastures. At times, the cows were literally on the edge of the road, casually chewing grass as they watched the riders whiz by. Most people went wider on tires, which was a smart choice for this. I brought my 38mm tires and still had a blast (thanks, East Coast Gravel Riding).

Am I glad I rode? yes

Will I do this event again? no

Would I recommend it to others? It depends on what they want from a bike event.

  • If you like being in a huge peloton of fellow cyclists, challenging yourself on manageable hills, racing, or having some friends to ride with, this might be a good option for you.
  • If you’re more about that low-cost local gravel ride that kicks your ass but you have a blast doing it, it’s probably not for you.

Buffalo Creek Overnighter

bikepacking – just like riding a bike, but with a lot of Stuff

My friend Ryan started a group last year for bikepacking overnights in the Front Range. When I moved back to Colorado, he reached out to remind me the club is doing self-organized trips this year instead of big group outings. I’ve been wanting to go, but for whatever reason timing didn’t work with the people who were going out.

Same with Littleton Social Cycle – it’s in my neighborhood, but I have yet to go on a ride with them.

So when a guy posted about doing an overnight May 30-31 on the Buffalo Creek route, I jumped at the chance to check it out.

Friday after work, I started to look for all my bikepacking stuff that I tossed haphazardly into boxes while moving. Where’s my water filter – and why is it not with THIS water filter? Where’s my chair and why did I find it with my tent in an unrelated box? I really should just have a Go Box with everything I need for one night out so I don’t have to go looking for stuff.

My anxiety is hitting peak levels – it’s been 8 months since my last bikepacking trip (which was absolutely phenomenal and one of my top trips of all time) and my first out West. Where I live is around 5,400′ of elevation – this trip was starting at 6,100′ and topping out around 8,500′ before dropping slightly to camp for the night around 8,000′. While I am acclimated to Denver, I get nervous about elevation – and exposure. There just aren’t as many cool, shaded dirt roads out here.

Saturday morning, I’m up early, pack up the car, and head to the trailhead – still super nervous. Looks like there will be about 5 other people, not a single one I know. After many years of developing bikepacking friendships and knowing what to expect, this felt like a huge wild card. I hope people like me, and I don’t get dropped.

We set out under blue skies along the South Platte River. The first 18 or so miles were a steady, gradual climb – so gradual one might think it’s flat! The group comprised of four men, one other woman, and me. I was secretly happy to see almost everyone had racks and panniers.

We gradually moved from paved to dirt roads to two-tracks through wildfire-charred landscapes beginning to recover. Gliding through the pine forest, we took a short lunch break on the side of the road.

The climb up to Wellington Lake was a bit soul-sucking. It’s long, steep, and endless switchbacks well into the double-digit grades. I was not the only one who opted to push a fully loaded bike over a short, steep section and then pedal on when the grade receded. Couple this with going from 7,000′ to 8,000′, and the ever-so-slightly thinner air begins to make itself known.

The staff at Wellington Lake filled up our water bottles with a hose and we all paused for snacks and the pit toilet. The real climb was coming up.

Stoney Pass was evidently in great shape – a steady climb but well-graded. I guess usually it’s a rutted-out mess but the exceptionally mild winter kept the road pleasant. Topping out around 8,500′, we took a quick break to catch our breath. It was mostly downhill to get to camp.

oh give me a home …
where the buffalo roam …

We stopped to gaze at a bison herd hanging out in a field, also enjoying the day. The wind is starting to pick up, so we continue on.

The skies started to look ominous, and we contemplated how much farther to camp. We made our way down the washboarded road as a hint of rain fell, then stopped. The wind is whipping us around a bit on the road, making it hard to descend quickly.

Arriving at our destination dispersed campground, we found zero sites available. Not surprising given all the campsites were taken up to this point.

No one really wanted to make a 4-mile climb to a different campsite, so we started down the road until we found a spot tucked away behind several large boulders with the creek running right beside it for easy filtering.

With a stage 1 fire ban in effect, we couldn’t have a campfire – but we still gathered around the fire ring to talk and share stories. One of the guys shared his birthday cookies with us – so delicious!

It was getting chilly so we dispersed to our tents for a good night’s sleep.

Sunday morning, we woke and had coffee and breakfast before breaking camp. While yesterday had three pretty good climbs, today only had one – and it was so much more gentle than any on Saturday. Today was going to be a good day because it would be gravity-assisted!

Along the way down, we had a spectacular view of the back of Pike’s Peak. The weekend recreational traffic was in full effect, so we often had to pull aside on the narrow dirt roads to allow a line of trucks and cars to pass.

More washboards, more sweeping views of the wildfire devastation and resurgence.

We passed through Deckers to begin the final 12 miles. I maintain that flat rides are harder than climb-y rides because you have to keep pedaling even though you’re tired. There’s no coasting. We regrouped a few times along the way. Still a very scenic and enjoyable section!

Before we knew it, we were back on the dirt to the trailhead. The weekend camping trip was over.

This was a super fun trip made more fun by the great company. I’m thankful to have found a group of people who seemed to be well-matched for my pace and bikepacking style. I’m looking forward to more overnights with this group again!

Stillness

there is strength in movement and stillness

It’s been a minute since I last wrote about my bike adventures, and that’s because, well, there haven’t been many.

Shortly after my Waterton Canyon ride, I headed up to Golden for a saunter up Lookout Mountain. It was a beautiful 70*F day, and it seemed that everyone was out riding bikes.

Lookout Mountain is another accessible climb in the metro area – 4.5 miles with 1,270′ climbing with an average of 5% grade. The steepest part is the first mile and the short switchbacks further up the road. I took my time and some pictures going up. The last time I’d ridden this (and the first time ever) was during the Golden Gran Fondo back in 2018. It was fun to revisit this climb and remember what it felt like the first time (and how much different it felt nearly 8 years and loads of climbing experience later).

I continued past the Grave of Buffalo Bill and continued through a quiet residential area to the true top, which is the Lookout Mountain Nature Center and Preserve before heading north on US 40 to cross over the interstate. I-70 has a really beautiful view as you begin to head into the mountains. I didn’t know this, but there is a resident buffalo herd near that interchange! A wonderful downhill rewarded my efforts before I turned back to head over a short but steep hill to the top of Lookout and then back down the Mountain.

Since then, it’s mostly been short rides around town. For the first time since college, we live within 5 miles of the places we frequent: library, bike shop, restaurants, breweries, multi-use trails, hair stylists, massage therapists, doctors, and the vet. So it’s incredibly easy to hop on my Ogre to run errands, go out to eat, and just enjoy the day.

Last weekend, I rode 26 miles on this bike to go get lunch downtown with visiting coworkers

There’s also the obligatory structured workouts on TrainerRoad, daily dog walks, and lifting weights a few days a week. I’m still trying to figure out how to work yoga into my lift regularly.

But back to the real topic – stillness.

I had a bad cold for the second time in four months, which is never fun but an opportunity to cultivate a practice of stillness.

Since 2020 COVID times, I’ve been incrementally working to slow my life down. It started with adding more gentle, slow, meditative yoga classes and has gradually expanded to reducing my personal obligations to only those that resonate and nourish my soul. One of my favorite yoga practices is yoga nidra – a guided relaxation while fully supported with props for 45 minutes. At first, I didn’t think I could be still that long – but now, I relish how deeply restorative deep rest is. At the end of the session, it feels like my body is breaking through dried clay to be refreshed.

But it’s not just yoga practice – it’s hearing our body say, “I crave stillness.”

I was reminded of how delicious stillness is this morning, as I lay half-asleep in my bed, the gentle hum of the humidifier and the comforting weight of my dogs next to me. To have the luxury of consciousness and awareness without having to open my eyes to see. A few more minutes of complete relaxation in safety and comfort before awakening to the obligations that await us.

We shouldn’t need to be sick to take time to really rest and restore our bodies.

Dirty Chatfield & Waterton Canyon

Waterton Canyon or Bust

Two months ago we landed in Colorado and began the process of Unpacking and Setting Up The House. I haven’t been on my bike since October at this point – so long ago TrainerRoad knocked my FTP down to a level I have never seen. (To be fair, I only have a power meter on my trainer, so while I may have been at this level before, I’ve never *seen* it)

Our new location is stupid convenient to everything, so I decided to buy myself a dedicated About-Town bike. Look at this beauty!

I’m not usually a Pink Girl but it looks so good next to the green-grey frame

(For fellow bike nerds, she’s a 2025 Surly Ogre in Orlock’s Shadow with a Surly first-gen 24-pack front rack. I recently added a Waald 139 half-basket. Why a first-gen? Because I can move it to my Wednesday for bikepacking, should I find a suitable fatbikepacking route locally)

Anyway, we are deep in a Climate Change Winter here. We had a cold snap a bit ago, but overall it’s been very pleasant. Sunshine, blue skies, jeans-and-a-t-shirt weather. Yesterday, the temps were expected to be in the upper 60s, so I decided to try a route I found on Gravel Bike Adventures – Dirty Chatfield & Waterton Canyon. Waterton Canyon has been on my To Do list since I moved to New York and discovered a love of dirt roads.

(full disclosure, the two lonely routes in New York are mine)

Within 3 blocks, I was on the local multi-use trail. The one thing I – didn’t really forget so much as haven’t had the ability to take advantage of – are the abundance of off-road multi-use trails. In the Denver metro area, it’s very possible to bike 100 miles – maybe more – without meaningfully being on a road with cars. This also means not a ton of hills in the traditional sense. Noting I’ll need to seek out hills to regain my climbing prowess.

Being a beautiful day, the trails were busy with families, people on bikes, people walking their dogs, and plenty of anglers in the Platte River. As I got closer to Chatfield Reservoir, more roadie cyclists appeared.

Platte River north of Chatfield
A view of the reservoir and dam

I climbed up the dam, a gentle half-mile at slightly-higher than railroad grades, and crossed the top of the dam. Another thing I didn’t really forget so much as didn’t have to deal with was the wind. You can see a million miles – and the wind will always find you. As I headed southwest, the headwinds and sidewinds prevailed – so I reduced my speed to avoid burning through energy on the flats.

Dropping into the southern trails in Chatfield was a treat. I didn’t see another person for several miles and enjoyed the rustic Western beauty. The route took me southwest onto the High Line Canal trail, winding its way through the plains and into new housing developments south of the park before pushing back into working ranch territory.

A right turn onto a road led me to the Waterton Canyon trailhead, which was swarming with people of all ages and abilities. Notably no one had their dogs, which is prohibited due to the wildlife in the area. Sadly, I did not see any big horn sheep – but I did see a pack of mule deer!

The climb itself is very, very accessible. The lower portions were more heavily trafficked, and the farther up the canyon, the fewer families and more cyclists, hikers, and anglers. 6.5 miles at a steady 1-2% grade on a wide, hardpacked road. Around every corner was another stunning view of the soaring mountains surrounding the valley. There were also plentiful pit toilets, picnic areas, and trash/recycling receptacles. Literally no reason to not Leave No Trace.

why yes, there is ice and snow in the shade

The hardest portion of the canyon is the final 4/10 mile past the dam, which takes you to the Colorado Trail. I took a short break to catch my breath and have a snack before gliding back down the canyon and heading towards home on the western trails in Chatfield. I ended up leap-frogging with a group of groadies (gravel roadies, a term for gravel riders on high-end, aero gravel bikes meant for racing with a background in road racing).

As I descended the Chatfield dam, and noticing all the roadies and groadies, and wondering if I’d find my people. I was on my Cutthroat with my bottle mounted out on the fork – a decidedly Not Aero position for them but highly convenient when bikepacking – just noodling along when I saw …

Tall, thin guy, tattooed arms and legs, old-timey mustache, flared bars … and bottles on the front fork.

My People.

I pedaled the remaining miles up the multi-use trail smiling, feeling seen, and that I will eventually find my people. I’m already in contact with Front Range Overnighters to get more involved in the local bikepacking scene, my goal being to not only figure out bikepacking Out West for myself, but also help lower the barriers of entry for others to try bikepacking.

Thank you to Gravel Bike Adventures for the core route – it was very enjoyable! Looking forward to exploring more of their routes locally.

Thoughts for 2026

finding a new normal

The last 2 weeks have been a blur. We left New York, drove across the country in single digits, endless semis, rest stops, a wind and dust storm, and landed in Colorado in time to close on our new house. We were back to work two days later, adjusting to East Coast hours being 2 hours earlier and trying to get the house unpacked and organized. It’s the same size, but has different spaces, so things don’t just GO where they used to go.

I’m also learning that despite the massive purging we did in New York, I still have too much Stuff. Some of it might just stay in boxes until I’m ready to fully part with it.

The holidays have barely registered for us – each holiday was a day off from work and a chance to catch up on the house (and sleep in). We’ve had service people out almost every day this week to complete the routine maintenance the previous owner didn’t do. We have a handman coming next week to knock out a long list of little things that, once completed, will give us more time to maintain rather than catch up.

We’re like 90% moved in … that 10% is going to take a minute.

In bike news, I’m psyched to have a local bike shop and will be dropping my bikes off for tune-ups after being in a moving pod for a bit. I’m starting to think about bike plans for the year. The plans will be modest, as 2026 will be reacclimating to elevation and exposure (there are very few trees – you can see forever, but there’s also very little shade).

Events and Routes I’m looking at this year:

The goal is to reconnect with old bike friends and find new bike friends who want to explore at a casual pace. I’m super into fat bikepacking and want to do it a few more times. The number of routes and options for bikepacking out West is tremendous – way more than out East – so I’m bound to get to at least a few new places.

And of course, spend more time with my family and Pete’s family. That’s the main reason we moved back – we missed being near our people. For now our kids are still out East and we look forward to setting up vacations to see them. Our kids are the coolest people we know and we always love spending time with them.

So that’s the plan for 2026 – be gentle to myself, try new things, find my place in where I live, and do my best not to become a Z-list celebrity among bike people in my area.

Hope to see you out there!

2025 In Pictures

with very few words

I didn’t post many of my bike adventures last year – not because they didn’t happen, but because Life Happens. 2025 was a comeback year, carefully walking the line between too much and too little. Enthusiasm is great until it turns into a never-ending cycle of exhaustion.

This was the year we decided to finally move back to Colorado from New York. It’s been a long time coming – a friend texted that they knew this day was coming but it didn’t really feel like it would ever actually happen.

So here’s 2025 in pictures. There’s a story each month but I’m going to let the photos and memes and screencaps tell it.

(I don’t know why my pics always show up in reverse order; just know they are)

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

Screenshot

See you out there!

Katahdin 360

a fatbikepacking adventure

Four years ago, a bikepacking route in Maine was posted to Bikepacking.com and I was immediately intrigued. Maine has a mythical status in my mind and having never been there at the time, I wanted to experience a true Maine adventure. Whenever I mentioned the route to friends, their response was usually “looks so cool!” and then they looked at the drive time and said “PASS.”

Then one of my bike friends moved to Maine.

And I finally visited Maine – first a long weekend in Portland; then a week in Harpswell; and now, a long weekend in Baxter State Park and Katahdin Woods & Waters National Monument.

This was my year.

day 1 – BSP

We basecamped at the New England Outdoor Center – Penobscot, reserving a 4-person canvas tent for the week so we could have a place to start close to the park, hot showers when we returned, and a place for our cars to be during our trip. Also, their Twin Pines campus has two restaurants (River Drivers and Knife’s Edge) making it easy to get a bite and back to camp fairly quickly.

Day One is usually a more relaxed morning as we savor our morning coffee and load the bikes for the first time. We finally headed out around 10:30 a.m. under partly sunny, humid conditions. Almost immediately, my rear rack disassembled itself from the weight. Thankfully, it was a quick fix, and we were back in business in less than 5 minutes.

A few miles later we’re in Baxter, checking in with the rangers at the gate. Ranger Aiden was suitably impressed to see two women on well-loaded fat bikes and instructed us to return our pass to the north gate so they know we made it through the park.

Baxter State Park is true Maine wilderness despite the established hiking trails, the tote road through the park, forest service campgrounds, and plenty of public pit toilets. Seriously – I wish every state took public toilet opportunities as seriously as Maine does in BSP. We marveled at the beauty surrounding us and started our “Moose Watch.”

We stopped to take a photo and it started to rain. Not terribly hard, but enough that we decided to put on our rain jackets.

It never stopped raining for the rest of the day and into the night. Something like an inch+ of rain fell. At one point, we pulled over and put a midlayer under the rain jackets to stay warm. Always fun to try to change and add layers when it’s pouring rain out.

But the rain kept a lot of people (and animals) away – so we pedaled our way though the park.

Thoroughly soaked through, we arrived at the Matagamon Gate and surrendered our pass to the Ranger, who was asking if we were on e-bikes. No e-bikes here – just analog human-powered transportation! A woman took our photo to send to her husband who is on the Great Divide Route right now.

A few miles later, we roll into Matagamon Wilderness Campground for the night. Months ago, we had called to reserve a tent site, but as the weather forecast solidified before we headed up, I made the executive decision to see if we could book a cabin or other indoor accommodations. We were able to reserve the yurt, which ended up being perfect for us.

Soaked, caked in muddy dirt, and starting to get chilled, we headed to the coin-op showers to rinse off and warm up a bit. We left our stuff on the porch and got a hot meal from the restaurant, Mama Bear’s Kitchen, before going back to the yurt to crank the heat and try to get our clothing to dry out.

a whoopie pie is not a meal, but homemade whoopie pies are not to be missed

Day 2 – KW&WNM

After a nice sleep in a warm bed in a yurt, we opted for breakfast at the kitchen again and discuss our plans for the day’s route. The owner asked about our route and gave us some Pro Tips that only a local would know. We got a late start (11am) but with only 30ish miles to go, we weren’t especially worried about time.

Katahdin Woods & Waters National Monument is a relatively new national park, established in 2016. As such, there aren’t many front-country amenities and roads can mean anything from a wide smooth trucking road to overgrown two-track.

As with any day two, the legs are a touch stiffer and hills a bit slower – especially with 4″ tires and heavy loads. We enjoyed the solitude and lack of civilization, pedaling along dirt roads to two track to slick, mossy singletrack. We crossed the suspension bridge and found a spot to stop for lunch.

After lunch was a huge hike a bike up a long logging road two track. None of our photos show the actual steepness of the inclines, which challenged our upper body strength pushing our loaded bikes over rocky, uneven terrain.

By the time we get to the top, Ashley’s energy is waning. My water is getting low so we found a campground on the map 6 miles from our intended spot for the night that has direct access to the river so we can filter water.

WILDLIFE ENCOUNTER: We’ve been on “Moose Watch” the whole time – every time we see a logged lane or a swampy area, we scan for moose. No luck. So we’re happily motoring along on a wide, open logging road when we hear a branch crack, leaves shake, and something dark drop. We immediately stop and look at each other. Bear or Moose? What do we do if it’s a moose? Bear spray works on moose, right? Ashley takes out the bear spray and we stand there for a few minutes assessing the situation before deciding to high-tail it down the road. Nothing chased us but we had a good spike in our heart rate for a moment.

Once we get there though, we decide to just call it for the day. the Lunksoos Campground was beautiful, clean, and there was only one other camper – Mo The Gravel Cyclist. We chatted with Mo and he gave us some pro tips for the next day’s route to avoid some impassable roads. Mo is retired and spends his time out camping and riding his super-sick Cutthroat with Lauf fork. Mo asked us if we were on e-bikes.

We filter water, make dinner, and call it a night.

Day 3 – Home Again

It’s chilly when we get up so we make some coffee and oatmeal for breakfast while wearing puffies and warm beanies and gloves. We filter more water and as we’re packing up, Ranger Steve stops by to let us know the site we were on is reserved for the next few nights. We assure him we’re on our way and he gives us more insights to help make our final day very enjoyable. He also asks if we are on e-bikes (this is becoming a trend and while I have no issue with e-bikes, it’s wild that people assume a bike is an e-bike anymore).

We head out on a wonderful snowmobile trail before turning onto logging roads. We stop for lunch on the side of the road with a beautiful view of Katahdin. The logging road starts to be more two-track and then devolves further into an overgrown mess of rocks, moss, and thick leaves.

The final push was definitely a workout, as we’re tired from the previous day’s hike a bike and the uncertain terrain added a layer of challenge in just finding the right line of least resistance. Eventually we get to just overgrown two-track again, and blast through the knee-high foliage on our wide tires with a small gravity assist.

Suddenly, we pop out of the woods into a swamp and lo, Mount Katahdin in all her glory.

A few more miles to get back to the gatehouse at Baxter State Park and then a few miles on the road to get back to camp for a well-earned dinner.

final thoughts

As I write this, I am still amazed and astounded at the adventures I’ve had with just one or two other girl friends in the wilderness. This trip in particular was spectacular, in that I’ve now seen all facets of Maine – and I love them all. I haven’t been on my bike since an overnight in July (oops, forgot to write about that one) and yet, I felt strong, capable, and fully present in the moment. thanks strength training!

and also – FAT BIKEPACKING IS AMAZING. omg, I did not know how much I’ve been missing by not doing lower total miles in rustic locations on my fat bike. I am fully addicted to when I can go fatbikepacking again. Maybe it’s just my bomb-ass Surly Wednesday, but I had a B L A S T!!

I also am reminded that bringing a spare kit is crucial. Everything I was wearing on Saturday was soaked through and we did not have the means to get everything completely dry. If I didn’t have a second set of riding shorts, shirt, and a sunhoodie, days 2 and 3 would have been fighting hypothermia and hoping my clothing dried out. It wasn’t that warm this past weekend – only in the low-60s and breezy.

My parting advice? Plan the trip and just do it. Don’t wait for when you have the right gear or the right bags or the coolest route. If you’re psyched about something, make it happen! Find a friend, talk to locals, and have an incredible, S Tier time.

see you out there!

Thoughts from an Adventure Snack

like riding a bike, it all comes back

Pedaling felt effortless. The sun was warm on my face, and the road was remarkably quiet. My brain was playing the Pina Colada song on loop, and I couldn’t help but feel completely at peace.

I haven’t been on a bikepacking trip since I got home from the Northwoods 600. There are a variety of reasons – some I’ve chronicled here and some I haven’t. Time seems to keep moving; our relationships evolve.

The bikepacking overnight I planned to attend back in April was canceled due to weather, which was fine because I’ve done the riding bikes in the chilly rain and it’s not fun. So last weekend when I looked at the weather (it looked great – high of 70*F and low of 50*F overnight) and checked the local campground (literally one site left) …. I booked it. Perfect for a quick adventure.

Friday was a complete washout – well over an inch of rain in 24 hours – so I decided to leave on Saturday and stick to roads instead of incorporating a few rustic trails. Leaving after lunch on Saturday meant an unhurried start to the adventure. I stopped by a gas station to pick up a beverage for dinner and continued along, arriving at camp a few hours later. I convinced the ranger to bring me a bundle of firewood.

When it’s been a minute, it’s easy to forget what it’s like to haul everything for the weekend. Those first few pedals take a bit more power to get going, but once the tires roll, they feel effortless.

It wasn’t lost on me that my mom’s birthday would have been Friday, and Mother’s Day is Sunday (and my dad’s birthday). Getting away gave me space to think, heal, and be responsible only for myself. But truly, getting outside, setting up camp, relaxing with dinner by a campfire, retiring to read before getting some sleep—this is living.

I definitely wished I had a friend or two along for the trip, but I’m learning we can’t always wait for the stars to align. We all have our own lives separate from our friendships and adventures. When adventure calls, sometimes you just have to heed the call.

Anyway, the weather was perfect, and loading up the bike and heading out to camp for a night felt really good.

Gear Thoughts

I have the original Revelate Designs Nano Pannier, and they are fantastic for short trips where I’m not bringing a lot. Revelate recently introduced the revamped nano panniers and the Pannier Pod. I already have two Dopp bags, so I picked up two of the pannier pods, thinking they would be solid for organizing my nano panniers. They only hold 12L total, so good organizing practices are key.

I had my doubts about if they would hold anything substantial – and I was totally wrong. I was able to put my sleep attire, unders, socks, and a spare shirt and shorts in one; the other held layers.

Made it super easy to stay organized and pack in everything I wanted to bring.

Also, there is no right or wrong in bikepacking in terms of the amount of gear. Sure, there are people who can live in the same clothing for weeks on end and carry only a toothbrush, but there are also people who prefer to be comfortable and not have to put on every single thing they brought to stay warm at night. The only person you’re hurting is yourself by having to haul all that stuff around.

One of my Non-Negotiable Nice To Haves is my Helinox chair. Any collapsible chair will work – but having a place to sit that isn’t a rock, a log, or the ground is tops. I also bring a full (non-shower) toiletries set – body cleanser wipes, face cleanser wipes, witch hazel wipes, deodorant, tooth brush & toothpaste, saline nasal spray and allergy meds. My clothing might not be super fresh,but I like to feel like I’m decently clean despite irregular showers.

Anyway, it’s great to be back on the bike and going on adventures. This trip felt very important to do as a reintroduction to an activity I love but have shelved for the past 18 months. I have a few more trips planned this year that I’m really excited about.

Hope to see you out there!

2024 in Review

let’s look at the bright side

This year has not been my best, and it feels like it’s been that way the past 4 years. If you want to get really technical, it all started with the 2016 election, but specifically, the time since covid showed up in New York has been a wild ride of anxiety and stress.

My brain tells me I didn’t do much this year and while that’s partly true, it’s not the whole story. I won’t rehash what I’ve already written about extensively; instead I’m focusing on what I did do this past year.

January

January featured a visit to the local wolf sanctuary, a few fat bike excursions around the region, and ample time on the trainer as I geared up for the April Trifecta: Toad Strangler, Rasputitsa, and LuLackaWyco.

February

February started with a long weekend trip to New Hampshire to fat bike with my girlfriends and Matt. My first experience ridding on trails that were 100% ice with no studs! (spoilers: it wasn’t terribly fun to feel like I was going to slide out at any moment) I also dropped off the bright red ceramic sink with my Maine friend Ashley for the cabin she’s renovating. A bit more snow, more local fat biking, and even more trainer time.

March

Local gravel with girlfriends, more trainer time, and a massive anxiety attack. My youngest kid turned 21. I soldiered through the 4th annual Frozen Apple Ride. I tried to keep up with my trainer rides when I felt like I could. My GI symptoms begin in earnest.

April

I’m back in therapy. We took our younger kids and their partners for a weekend in Cooperstown, NY to hit up key places on the Beverage Trail. The solar eclipse wasn’t total in our area but my kid in Buffalo got some amazing photos of totality. I enjoyed Toad Strangler, Rasputitsa, and LuLackaWyco despite mounting GI issues. I decide doing big events solo isn’t as fun as when you have a friend to ride with. I also experienced my first earthquake!

May

Mountain biking, a trip to Philly, and Northern Lights – which I didn’t see myself! Again, my kid in Buffalo got great photos and sent them to me. Memorial Day Weekend is once again Girls + Matt MTB Weekend – checking out Pine Hill and Slate Valley trails. Definitely want to go back to Slate Valley to check out the rest of the trails.

June

More mountain biking locally, more trainer rides (to get ready for GRUSK). Friends camping weekend where I try out a bivy (eh), cry unexpectedly, take a 3 hour nap in my tent in the rain, and read by the campfire. A road ride and more local gravel. I decide I’m not 100% for a 3 day bikepacking trip and switch to the day-ride option.

July

A few local gravel rides and then GRUSK. West Virginia is beautiful, chunky, and lots of vert. Hanging out with Curt for 2 days feels fabulous. I have my first break in GI issues and tentatively begin planning bike rides again with friends, including getting Karen to ride up Mt Riga and a duo camping trip to Molly Stark State Park for some Vermont gravel. Riding a remote and stunning route solo before driving home. Feeling more confident.

August

I’m not confident – another anxiety attack knocks me back to square one. That and a flight delay leads me to leave my bike at home and skip SBTGVL in favor of spending more time with my family and friends. I don’t regret it, even if I do continue to have GI issues the whole trip. I’ve discovered Dramamine seems to help with the pervasive nausea. I catch covid on the flight back to New York. I take it as a sign to just calm the fuck down.

September

Finally see my primary care doc and add Lexapro to my Wellbutrin and almost immediately the GI symptoms go away. The Brain-Gut axis is super real. Once I’m recovered from covid, I begin with low milage rides at moderate paces. I go camping with friends again, this time doing a stunning 40 mile route out of Beartown State Forest, which is open again. We see a bear while riding. My youngest sister is diagnosed with breast cancer. I start strength training and discover I’m stronger than I expected and start to look forward to lifting heavy.

October

A few days after taking a melancholic road ride, one of my kids has a mental health crisis and attempts suicide. Fortunately, I get them to the ER quickly. The gravity of the situation doesn’t hit me until the nurse brings their stuff out and says they are on suicide watch. We embark on a journey through the mental health system, which I am thankful we have good insurance and access to some of the best doctors and programs in the state. My days revolve around work, visiting my kid in the behavioral health hospital, and caring for the dogs. Our kid is released and enters the outpatient program immediately.

November

I’ve switched to hiking with friends because it’s too much effort to get dressed for a bike ride. I’m reading a lot because offline activities are calming. My kids visit, which I always love. Lots of puzzles are started and completed. A long-time friend visits. There is something special about being able to wake up and sit on the couch drinking coffee with friends. Right before Thanksgiving, I have another big anxiety attack and instead of my primary care doc, I call a psychiatrist. Within days I’m off Lexapro and starting Effexor. Within a week, I’m feeling more calm and rational than I have in a long time.

December

Ice Weasels kicks off the month with a lot of fun. I come in third again in the women’s fat bike race – which I’m always fine with because I don’t race and everyone else does. Pete’s cousin and kid are there too, so I hang out with them and catch up. A solo fat bike ride at Stewart where I almost get locked into the park. I drop off my fat bike to get tubed studded tires mounted and a quick once-over of the bike. It’s been snowy and cold, then rainy and warm cyclically. I’m optimistic I might be able to get out and ride on Monday.

What’s On my radar for 2025

  • Good mental health – continuing therapy and medication adjustments as needed
  • Balance in work and life
  • Maybe sell the house and move home to Colorado?
  • Family vacation to Maine
Bike Events

I won’t do all of the above, but I do want to share smaller events that are really fun, well-supported, and not terribly expensive. You

As I write this, I haven’t decided if I’m going to put my trainer up in the new year. Riding indoors is hella boring, even with a structured training plan and killer music playlist, but does translate to riding strength in the spring. I’d like to get outside as much as possible because I need the cardio to balance the strength training. It’s also raining (day two of three) so there’s that. Something to figure out next month.

I’m optimistic 2025 will be better. See you out there!