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.
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.
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
July 10 – GRUSK (WV) bikepacking or day ride (perhaps shift to September, rent a house, and do the route when it’s cooler)
July 26 – The Fox Bikepacking Race (MN) many roads were on the Northwoods 600. Beautiful area that I’d like to go back to ride
Sept 27 – Wheelin’ to Wall (SD) this may wait until I’m in better driving distance, but notches another state to ride bikes in
Sometime in September – Katahdin 360 3 days of fat bikepacking in Maine with my friend Ashley
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!
What a difference a month (and a lot of Doing Hard Work) makes.
GRUSK RECAP
The week after I last posted, I made the 8-hour drive to Circleville, WV, for GRUSK. I had originally signed up for the 3-day non-competitive bikepacking route back in January but switched to the day ride option when it became apparent I would not be in any shape to actually go on a 3-day bikepacking trip. As much planning as I do, there’s still a lot of stress and anxiety around doing something in a new place. Right before the deadline to switch categories, I downgraded again to the 50-mile route. 50 miles is very achievable.
I agreed to be the SPOT contact for my friend Curt, who opted to try for an ITT on the 2-day bikepacking route that went out while I was making my way down the interstate. Just before I fell out of cell service, I received a text:
Scratching. See you tonight; riding back to camp.
My brain was shocked; my heart was immediately happy. While it wasn’t great he was scratching (what happened?) I was not so secretly excited about actually being able to ride bikes together on the day ride.
There is no cell service for an hour’s drive in all directions from the venue, so communicating was challenging, but we eventually met up at registration. I unloaded my stuff into my dorm room and parked by his campsite.
The event itself is fantastic – packet pickup was easy, pre-ordered items were ready, and the food was plentiful and delicious. Over dinner Curt shared why he decided to scratch and that he too was looking forward to more time to hang out and talk. We had so much to catch up on.
It’s July and I know better than to sign up for events in July because it’s usually hot, sometimes muggy, and I don’t do well in the heat especially now that I’m on antidepressants. But here we are – it’s expected to be in the upper-80s/low 90s.
I wake up feeling remarkably calm. Normal even. Over breakfast I decide to load the 32mi route just in case. I’ll make up my mind on the road.
We head out around 9:30am under clear blue skies and temps in the mid-70s. The wonderful descent to start quickly becomes a succession of long 5+ mile climbs as we make our way up Spruce Knob. I’m pedaling my usual steady pace and sweating buckets.
West Virginia is beautiful!! The shaded woods roads and gradual grades made for a pleasant climb. The descent was boneshaking (WV gravel is decidedly not pristine) and before you know it, we’re back to climbing. The two-track was a nice diversion from the wide gravel roads. Long descent to the aid station.
The aid station is in the full sun. It’s also conveniently where the 50-miler and the 32-miler diverge. Curt has already decided to take the shorter route due to some bike issues. I decided it’s better to ride with a friend than ride for mileage.
We spin back to the start (remember that nice downhill? it’s now the final climb haha), get cleaned up, and I head over to where Curt is camping. We spent the rest of the day under an umbrella talking, quietly reading, eating snacks, and generally catching up on life. Without cell service, it’s blissfully present.
near sunset from top of Spruce Knobthis, all daynear the end of a loooong descentdelicious two-trackView from the topAdventure Duo Reunite!
The event had a whole party after the ride—people were coming in at all hours, some from bikepacking and others from enjoying the day. Many on the longer routes had salt-encrusted jerseys and shorts, which only reinforced my decision to cut the ride shorter.
Whether you ride 32 miles or 320 miles, you still did the event.
The band played until 11pm. The next morning, we had breakfast (I cannot stress how delicious and copious the food was) and headed out our separate ways. I was still feeling mostly normal, which felt miraculous. I was happy, calm, and without worry. After the last four months, it’s a relief.
coming next
The last two weekends I spent trying to get outside to ride with friends. One day we met up in Millerton, NY to do a three-state ride up Mount Riga, down Sunset Ridge, and back to our cars on the newly completed Harlem Valley Rail Trail. Perfect day with hot but not as muggy temps to be with friends. On our way back it started to sprinkle, which felt amazing after being hot and sweaty all afternoon. The sprinkle turned to a light rain and before we knew it, it was a downpour thunderstorm. There was a distinct moment when the water finally ingressed our shoes – at that point, you’re just soaked, and all you can do is pedal.
Last weekend I headed up to Vermont with Karen for a weekend of bikes and car camping. We rode out from Molly Stark State Park over to Green Mountain National Forest, over to Stratton, and made our way south on as many backroads as possible. The route had a few roads that turned out to be private or the “road” indicated on Ride with GPS maps didn’t actually punch through – so we had some reroutes, but overall had a wonderful day. Blessed again with perfect temps, low humidity, and nary another cyclist in sight. Cleaned up at the shower house and headed into town for a well-deserved dinner.
The second morning, Karen had to get back early, so I went out on a short ride before making the 3-hour drive home. It did not disappoint, and in many places, I felt very aware of my soloness and gender but also blissfully able to ride on my own terms, at my own pace. Vermont truly is a gem of our corner of the world.
This weekend has been excessively hot—humidity is high, dew points are over 72*F, and I’ve spent the weekend inside. My anxiety still rises for no reason, and I have to reason with myself, never an easy feat. But it helps—why am I feeling anxious? What is causing this? How can I let my body know it doesn’t need to be on edge?
Next weekend, I’ll be heading to Colorado for a long vacation full of family and friends. I spent yesterday evening boxing up my bike because I only have two more trainer workouts before we leave, and I don’t have time or inclination to go outside when it’s this gross out. It’s hard enough to take the dogs on a walk.
I’m still waffling on attending SBT GVL. I downgraded my route to the 56 miler, which again, is very achievable, and starts at 6:45am so I’ll be done before Noon (and before the heat really gets up there). I want to ride the roads; I don’t need the festival or the pre-events. Ultimately, it will come down to a game-day decision (well, a few days out since we plan to head up to Steamboat on the Friday before).
I’ve made plans to ride with my other adventure partner Jess while I’m down there. A simple day ride that looks incredible and will be a nice test of how I’m acclimating.
I’m basically trying to stay focused on each day, reduce stress as much as possible, eliminate anything that isn’t bringing me joy or makes me feel anxious – and talk myself through the rest. I will be staying with my dad while I’m in Colorado Springs, and I’m optimistic this trip home will help me find some closure. In some ways, I feel like my anxiety remains high because I live so far away and haven’t been able to truly integrate the absence of my mom. My emotions are still somewhat stuck in the post-funeral discombobulation. I see my sisters doing things with our dad, and in so many ways, I want that for myself, too.
It’s OK to not be OK. This isn’t permanent. You’ve done amazing things and you will do amazing things again. Taking time away doesn’t diminish your worth. Everyone needs a break.
If you came here just to read about bikes and bike adventures, this is not the post for you.
My body is screaming at me to stop.
I’m tired, I consistently feel nauseated, and/or have abdominal pain where I shouldn’t feel pain; my legs feel heavy, like I’m wading thigh-deep through pudding.
It’s been like this since March, possibly last December when I had the first of a few successive two-week stomach bugs. It’s (exceptionally) slowly getting less intrusive in my life, but it’s still a question if I will wake up any given morning feeling closer to normal—whatever that is anymore.
I took May off from doing anything more than walking my dogs every day. I went mountain biking with my girlfriends for three days, which was fun except for the low-grade nausea and pain.
In June, I tried to go camping and biking with one of my best friends, but I ended up staying the entire time at camp while my friends went off for a ride because my body would not cooperate and settle down.
I’ve continued to train on my indoor trainer and ride outside when I muster the energy, but had to make the incredibly difficult decision to bow out of the 3-day bikepacking ride I’d signed up for in favor of attending the day-ride option. I have zero confidence I can handle the stress of riding and surviving for a few days not knowing how I will feel any given morning.
Egos do not go quietly when a hard decision has to be made.
Yesterday I sat across from my GI doc, reviewing yet another scan that confirms only my internal organs are totally fine and at the pinnacle of health. There’s one more test she suggested. I asked her what she would do if she was in my shoes. So we’re doing the test next week to ensure a weird portion of the image from my latest scan is, indeed, nothing to worry about.
Could stress and grief play a role in this? Probably. The depth of my grief over my mom’s passing is far deeper than I thought possible. I spend my bi-weekly therapy visits sobbing because talking about my mom can sometimes trigger very deep, powerful emotions.
Emotions are like a water line. Some people are out on the branches and can shed a cute tear; some of us are connected to the main, and any break in the facade is a gush. There is only ugly crying for us.
But there are physical issues too – both my doctor and my therapist agree this isn’t all in my head; there is a physical component.
I just want to feel like a human again.
I was going to go for a bike ride today, but my body is screaming at me to stop. I slept 12 hours last night; I was so exhausted yesterday that I was in bed by 8:30 p.m. So today, I am listening (and thankful for the long holiday weekend, so I don’t have to think about work for a few days). I will focus on finishing my house chores and then hunkering down with a book.
Thank goodness for libraries. Reading has been my best de-stressor in the last few months.
Anyway – thanks for reading. I’m hopeful to feel better by the time I head to Colorado next month, but not really holding my breath. I’m going to keep training as if I’m definitely riding SBT GVL, but there’s a distinct possibility I will have to bow out, or reduce my distance, because of health issues.
Not my favorite place to be right now, but it’s where I’m at and I need to listen to my body. And avoid bike-related social media because it’s super jealousy-inducing right now. I don’t need to be reminded that the rest of the world can and should carry on without me.
Capping off my Spring Classics trio is the iconic Lu Lacka Wyco Hundo in Pittston, PA. This, along with Rasputitsa, was the main reason I spent the winter on the trainer three days a week.
2024 marks 12 years of LLWH goodness. It’s the ride I read about when Selene Yeager was writing as Fit Chick for Bicycling Magazine back in 2013ish, brand new to cycling, and thought “I want to be able to do that event someday.” Wisely (for once – ha!), I didn’t attempt it back when I was a novice cyclist.
Last weekend at Rasputitsa (admittedly a very different latitude), it was cool (40s*F) and it snowed. Yesterday it was 80*F and brilliantly sunny. LLWH definitely won in the weather department because it was relatively dry leading up to the event and the gravel roads were in excellent shape.
Saturday afternoon I made the relatively short drive (2.5hrs) to Pittston, PA – an easy jawn down I-84. The pre-ride materials indicated packet pickup was from 1-8pm at the brewery, however when I arrived at 7pm, I learned they had closed it at 6pm. Since I’m not a beet drinker, I found Tony’s Pizzeria and picked up a pie and a salad before returning to my hotel room for the night.
I’m still dealing with GI issues, and Saturday had been one of the “bad” days for nausea. This, of course, triggers my anxiety because I know hard efforts require good fueling strategies, and I was having issues just eating enough for baseline caloric needs. I’ve added digestive enzymes into my repertoire as my food logging doesn’t provide insight into triggers.
I signed up for the event solo and rode by myself most of the day, yo-yoing with a few people throughout the day. The routes had various offshoots from a core route, making it possible to see people who had gone out before you on a longer distance later in the day. I originally signed up for the 75 miler, but downgraded to 63 the morning of based on the previous day’s feeling. Knowing all routes go to the first rest stop, I knew I had an out if I needed/wanted to end my ride early.
Pennsylvania is vastly underrated for cycling, featuring wide open farmland, steep hills, and abandoned highways that nature is slowly taking over. Riding this event reminded me of my time living just outside Philadelphia and going on bike explorations every weekend with my best bike friend Ken. Also of my multiple tours on the Ride for Homes fundraising event benefiting Habitat for Humanity Philadelphia. It just felt familiar and comfortable.
One of the things I appreciated about this event was how down-to-earth the ride was intended to be. The pre-event communication included logistics, but also a pace sheet so you could make sure the aid stations were open for your given pace and route. “take pictures and enjoy the ride.If today isn’t your day, just follow the next shorter route. Don’t use Google to get back to the start – it will put you on roads that will be a very bad time. We won’t leave anyone out there.” It felt like a friend of a friend was giving pro tips on a route they created. The only time limit was to be done by dark.
the ride
It’s cloudy and misty as I roll up to the Jenkins Township firehouse. The temps are in the mid-50s*F, which felt nice for my running-hot tendencies. I picked up my ride plate, t shirt, and bought a poster. I decided I probably only needed a vest over my lightweight wool t shirt. Paired with my trail shorts, mesh bib liners, and a zero-weight baselayer, I was ready for a long day in the saddle. I was also one of Very Few not wearing a full road cycling kit. Most of the Very Serious Cyclists on the hundred-miler had already left at 8am; I had planned to go out with the 9am Mass Start.
The mass start had the founder, Pat, leading us out in his truck which was helpful due to the first few miles rolling through downtown Pittston.
The route itself starts mellow and flat, riding along the east side of the Susquehanna River. I stopped to take a photo of a roadside waterfall and continued along at a measured pace. The first hill arrived at mile 13 and was a model for most of the hills to come. It was about 8/10ths of a mile averaging 8.5%. Many were already walking. By now, the sun is out and many of us are taking off warmer clothing from the start. I ditched the vest and switched to fingerless gloves.
The route meanders around the farmland on mostly exposed roads with very little tree cover. Exposure is my nemesis, but it was temperate out. Sweat up the hill, cool down on the descent. I was glad I applied sunscreen and bug spray before heading out.
The first aid station was at mile 25 and was well stocked with bananas, pb&js on white bread, oranges, and plenty of water and Hammer nutrition electrolyte mix. I grabbed a banana, refilled my water bottle, and examined the routes. I wasn’t nauseous, but I also wasn’t feeling hungry. I ate the rest of my Clifbar and the banana. Looking at the 40, I would be going back on roads I’ve already ridden on; looking at the 63, I’d get to see the other side of the river and hit all three counties (Luzerne, Lackawanna, and Wyoming Counties). Plus, it’s only 20 miles to the next aid station and only two or three big hills. I decided to keep moving on the 63.
Every time a group of men passed me, at least one said “good job” as they floated by. I know it’s not condescending and intended to be supportive but it always irritates me. Do they say that to other men when they pass them? I doubt it. I may not be fast but I am strong and I can ride bikes all day long and not be completely useless at the end of the day. I do my best to ignore my feelings.
As luck would have it, I also saw the photographers on the course many times. I’m hopeful at least a few came out nice; I always smile or laugh and try to make it look like I’m not mashing my granny gear up a steep hill.
The second aid station was the taco stop. Lots of people sprawled out on the grass across the road from the tent with sodas and tacos; other offerings included oranges, bananas, pb&js, and other typical aid station fare. I wanted to get a taco and just chillax for a bit, but my stomach was not happy and I was forcing myself to eat. I ate a banana, refilled my bottles, and headed out after a brief break. Only 20 miles left in the ride and only 3 more significant climbs before an epic descent back into Pittston.
Sometime around mile 53 I stopped to eat some fruit snacks and almost immediately felt queasy. I dialed back the pace even more as I pedaled up the final climb. I even got off and pushed my bike up a short but steep hill to see if that helped. (it didn’t, but it did give me a chance to work different muscles for a bit)
Rolling back into town, I overshot a turn and saw the photographer waving his hands at me from the side of the road. I doubled back and the route put us on a trail of railroad-grade gravel next to the tracks that eventually gave way to a grassy doubletrack trail. I hope that photo turned out!
I checked in at the finish (every rider was accounted for at each aid station to ensure no one was left out on the route) and decided to skip the post-ride meal in favor of getting back on the road towards home. (fear not, dear reader, I picked up fast food to eat on the drive) It looked like they were offering pizza or pasta and beverages. Perhaps if I had a friend I would have stuck around to talk about the day and how nice the ride was.
in closing
Overall, I’m glad I gutted it out (again) to do the whole route. LLWH is hard in a different way than Vermont gravel is hard so it would be difficult to compare the two. After the first 13 miles, there are almost no flat portions – you are either riding up a hill or down a hill. I also got sunburned because I didn’t get as much sunscreen on my arms and legs as I thought. ope.
Would I recommend this ride to others? Enthusiastically yes. There are options for fast people, slow people, and everything in-between. The vibe is chill, the food is bountiful at the aid stations (and have port-o-potties), and the route is beautiful. For $85, this was exactly what I needed it to be.
You just need to be OK with lots of roads trending up.
I have a few weeks before the Girls + Matt MTB weekend up at Slate Valley in Vermont that I’m looking forward to. No training rides, just a few weeks of fun rides with friends as the weather gets nicer.
Rasputitsa is an iconic Northeast spring classic in all the best ways: ridiculous route, unpredictable weather, and conditions that might be amazing but just as easily might bring you to your knees. Originally hosted at Jay Peak, the event moved to Burke Mountain for several years and experienced tremendous growth as gravel took off and riders kept looking for events that were ever more bonkers. Their signature Cyberia section has humbled many a rider, with either deep snow or mud depending on how the spring thaw is going. Photos and hype reels from past events show a party atmosphere and plenty of party-pace riders enjoying post-ride fire pits, a beverage, and some hot food.
A friend did Rasputitsa a few years back and reported it was an incredibly challenging route, especially Cyberia, but was fun overall. Good vibes, good times.
With 2024 seeing the 10th anniversary of the event and a return to Jay Peak, I finally decided to register and test my legs against Vermont Gravel in mud season. A few friends also registered so I was looking forward to a great day on the bike.
Unfortunately, I’ve been dealing with some severe anxiety issues rooted in unprocessed grief and stress that blossomed into physical manifestations. My biggest concern going into the day was if I would feel well enough to eat enough food to support the effort this ride would require.
The morning of the ride, Karen and I sat in the living room of the cottage we rented and stared at the snow falling outside. This day could go any way weather-wise; we prayed the sun would make an appearance and we would finish before the rain was expected in the afternoon.
Let’s start with the positive
Rasputitsa’s route did not disappoint. At 55 miles and nearly 6,000′ of climbing, it’s already one of the longer spring gravel rides in late April. I definitely spent my winter consistently on the trainer and riding outside on the rare weekend it didn’t rain (thanks, global warming) to ensure the ride wasn’t a death march – and that work paid off. The bulk of the ride was on the rolling hills of the Northeast Kingdom, with fully half of the climbing in the last 6 or 7 miles.
Was there mud? Of Course! Right off the start, we were sent onto a thawed XC ski trail that quickly devolved into ankle-deep, greasy, smelly mud. A few people tried to ride and discovered random deep pits of sludge. Lots of hike a bike here. The next section of mud was on the logging road – the south side was rideable but the north side was back to the thick, greasy mud and more hike a bike. The final section was in the last 2 miles, back onto the XC ski trails.
The dirt roads that comprised most of the route were in spectacular shape and offered up the best Vermont farmland and gorges. It’s always a pleasure to ride bikes in Vermont – especially when the hills are there but not super steep, long, or brutal.
The rest stops had friendly volunteers. Every intersection had law enforcement and/or volunteer to help riders through intersections by stopping traffic as needed – which was refreshingly nice. Even backroad turns had a volunteer with a cowbell yelling encouragement.
Makesi Duncan of DadBod Cycling fame. Super nice guy
Quite possibly, my absolute favorite part of the ride was the 4-mile climb up a logging road. A mile or so into the climb featured an unexpected aid station and the Grounded Nebraska hype squad. We paused to take a swig of a Coke, eat some fruit Newtons, chat with the homeowner, and pet his adorable, wiggly dogs before continuing up the mountain.
… and now the not so great
If I’m being super honest, I didn’t get the party vibe. I didn’t get the inclusive vibe. The event felt like a hollow husk of what Rasputitsa is known for.
When we showed up to get our bike plates and drop off non-perishable goods for a community donation, it wasn’t acknowledged; we put our stuff down on the table while the volunteers chatted behind the table. We got checked in very quickly, but no further information given about where the expo booths were located.
The rest stop fare selection was meager – water, maple syrup, and potato chips. No port-o-potties. I didn’t see any EMS or SAG. For $160 registration fee, I expected more options – even if I was in the last quarter of the riders out on course.
(I was not feeling well due to aforementioned stress-induced GI issues; I almost didn’t ride but decided I could always make a decision at the first rest stop. When I asked a volunteer if there was a way to get back to the start, the only vehicle designated as a potential option was at the next aid station with no plan to come back to the first aid station. I decided to keep riding and hope I didn’t feel worse.)
The thick mud at the start was like “of course. rasputitsa; impassable mud season. I get it” – the thick mud at the end of the ride felt casually unnecessary. Believe me, I really enjoy challenging conditions and perk up when the road tilts skyward. I didn’t love dragging my bike through the thick mud while trying to keep my shoes on my feet when I’m within 2 miles of the finish.
Someone might say that is part of the charm; I won’t die on this hill. Perhaps another day I would have loved it.
When we finally rolled over the finish line, no one was cheering; a handful of volunteers were standing around talking to each other. We wanted to rinse off our bikes, but the line was long and our sweat was starting to freeze so we rode back to our accommodations for a hot shower and then getting dinner.
In Closing
Did we accomplish something significant? Yes.
Is this the hardest thing I’ve ever done? No.
Would I recommend Rasputitsa to a friend? MAYBE.
I get the sense that Rasputitsa used to be a wild party good time; this year felt like the exact opposite. The price is high and I didn’t feel like I got my money’s worth.
We didn’t participate in the shakeout ride (I had a 6 hour drive to get to Jay); we skipped the concerts in favor of hanging out and talking; we skipped the Day After day at the waterpark; we didn’t go watch the film. So it’s not like there weren’t things to do; I just don’t think those make the ride experience.
Maybe I was spoiled attending Mid South last year and being absolutely blown away by how real the hype is. Maybe I missed Rasputitsa’s heyday, like seeing the Misfits when it’s really only one guy from the original band. Did I really see the Misfits?
Although the Grounded Nebraska team was a true highlight and genuinely the best. Their event was on my radar after Mid South last year; now I plan to attend in the next year.
I wanted to have a great time. Likely dealing with GI issues for 40 miles influenced some of this; fortunately, I was feeling much better by the time the hills started in earnest, which was a relief. I ended the ride on a high note.
I’m super conflicted. It cost a lot of money and time to attend this event and I’m not sure I got what I came for: a great day on the bike in a raucous party atmosphere.
I’ve got another event next weekend so hoping to end my three-week run of spring classics on a high note.
2023 has been a year of tremendous accomplishment and bottomless grief. I spent some time meditating on what themes 2024 will encompass and two came to me clear as tingsha bells bring us back to the current consciousness.
Bring intention into all decisions.
The right moment to go home will reveal itself in due time.
I’ve started to put bike events on the calendar – Rasputitsa and Lu Lacka Wyco in April and SBT GRVL in August – but am otherwise keeping my schedule clear to ensure I can make intentional decisions on where to spend my energy. Like booking a fat bike weekend in February with my best bike girlfriends and the revival of our annual Girls (+Matt) MTB Weekend over Memorial Day weekend.
Year in Review
January found me in the middle of my first-ever indoor trainer workout plan, fat biking with friends, and lots of dog walks. I had a bunch of photos of my family printed and framed in my home office.
February brought a tremendously fun fat bike weekend in Vermont with girlfriends, a trip to the dog park, and a long weekend in Philly to see my eldest kid.
March saw a long-time friend out to New York for a visit, a trip West to Oklahoma for The Mid South, trailwork, and the passing of my beloved beagle, Beauregard (he was 14.5). I had a very sharp sunburn line that remained all summer. I also completely abandoned any indoor training for three months.
April we brought home two bonded chi-weenie-rat terriers who we love more than anything, a trip to Vermont with the in-laws, my adventure buddy moving away, and the always fun B2G2. I put the two-inch tires on my gravel bike to get used to it for my summer bikepacking trip.
June started with my great-uncle Benjamin passing away. The weather was really fickle for the annual KT MTB weekend – so hard to find time to ride without getting soaked or mud-splattered. I spent a lot of time on the indoor trainer again to build capacity and riding the multi-use trails in Fahnestock State Park. My planned trip home to Colorado was canceled – but I ended up having to fly out urgently to see my mom. She had fluid building up in her pleural space that was slowly collapsing her lungs.
July – I was able to get home feeling my Mom was stable again and she was able to get surgery to install a drain for the fluid. I turned 46. We took a trip to Buffalo to see my middle kid and go to Niagara Falls (both sides). Pro tip: border agents do not want to know how funny you can be. I shuttered my Twitter (X) accounts and volunteered to sweep the Macedonia Gravel ride.
August was the taper month and I went to go ride bikes with friends in Connecticut. and then I flew to Minnesota with my friend Jess and spent two glorious weeks bikepacking with zero cares except to eat, ride bikes, and get to the next campsite. Transformative is the only way to describe the trip; by far the most epic thing I’ve ever done in my life. You can read about it here.
September, I got home, sent my tent poleset out for repairs, and promptly got a nasty cold. As soon as my cold was getting better, my mom declined very suddenly. Everything felt nebulous until I was approved to talk to her hospice nurse; I booked a ticket home the next day. I spent Mom’s last 24 hours with her and Dad and the following two weeks in a numb state of grief. Jewish tradition teaches the first month is for the spouse to mourn deeply; for the kids, it’s the first year following a parent’s death. Feels accurate from a kid’s POV.
October was hard. I managed to get out for a bike ride with the women I bikepacked in North Carolina with. I wrote a thank you note to the hospice team who cared for Mom. I didn’t go home for Mom’s interment. Ended the month riding the Gravel Goblin with friends the day before the event (it was 72* and sunny whereas the day of the event was 46* and soggy). Pete and I celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary.
grief is funny – I laughed so hard I cried at this
November flew by – rode a gnarly route I created for an event to check conditions and had to make significant adjustments for the event. Went to Maine for a long weekend with Pete. Mom’s headstone was placed. My dad and my kids all came home for a chaotic Thanksgiving weekend. I found out I was selected as a Bikepacking Roots Community Steward.
And that brings us to December. I rode Ice Weasels in a Bumble the Abominable Snowman costume. I got into SBT GRVL for 2024. I rode bikes and had a blast at my company’s holiday party (it was disco-themed so you know I bought a cheap silver dress and matching shoes). We finally got our kitchen sink and faucet replaced, which means all our kitchen appliances have been swapped out – and it’s functionally a brand-new kitchen. I made homemade marshmallows, which was easier than I thought. I make royal icing for sugar cookies, and while it’s easy to make, it’s not easy to apply if you don’t have the right tools to apply it precisely.
We always say – you only live once – life is short – live life with no regrets. This year has driven home that message in a very acute way. I find myself randomly thinking about my mom or seeing things that bring her to mind. The truth is we find immortality in the memories of those who knew us and loved us.
I still feel the pull to move back West but I need to wrap up things out East first. I am thankful we live in a time where we can video call or text (or yes, even make a phone call) to stay connected with loved ones. I’m relishing the time we have here, whether it’s 6 months or 6 years more.
Hope you, dear reader, have a happy, healthy holiday season and a prosperous new year. May 2024 be better to us all.
Along the journey, Jess and I fielded a lot of questions from others on how we got to the place of actually going on the trip came together.
First, no – we aren’t sisters. We were internet friends for a bit because I knew Jess’ husband when we were younger. Our first time meeting was on the Green Mountain Gravel Growler 2021 trip – and it was so much fun. So it felt organic to do another trip together.
Second – it takes a lot of planning to go on an epic journey. This was our first time doing a multi-week bikepacking trip – and our first multi-week trip with camping as the primary lodging accommodation. But camping helps keep the overall costs down (even if we did have to bring all our camping gear as well as our bikes and bags on the plane).
My goal is this post will help others feel confident in planning their next big adventure.
Getting There
We don’t live where we were going to ride, so we weighed the options: drive out or fly out. My drive would have been longer than Jess’ (20 driving hours) – so flying was the obvious choice to minimize the number of days off we needed to take from work.
Most airlines have policies around traveling with Sports Equipment so be sure to check out your airline of choice’s rules. I flew on Delta, which allows bicycles as a checked bag (provided it meets the dimension and weight requirements); Jess flew on Southwest, which features a flat fee for bicycle bags over 51lbs (provided it meets the dimension requirements).
Of particular note is the 50lb weight limit. You might think that since your bike isn’t anywhere close to 50lbs you’d be OK – but the bag itself weighs somewhere around 20lbs. Jess used the Dakine Bike Travel Bag (18lbs) and I used an EVOC Bike Travel Bag (19 lbs). Both are excellent choices for air travel and require only a minimal amount of bike disassembly to pack.
Jess crammed as much as she could into her bike bag because Southwest doesn’t charge for the first two checked bags and has a flat fee for bike bags weighing 51- 100lbs. I incurred Delta’s overweight and checked bag fees because my bag weighed 55lbs, which was due to the inclusion of my bike, 2.2″ tires, rack, 3 water bottles, shoes, and helmet.
We also had to bring all of our gear – not just a change of kit and snacks, but also our camping gear and food. Most camping gear can be put in checked baggage so I stuffed everything into a 7-day suitcase that came in at 43lbs (Jess had a larger carryon sized suitcase for the rest of her gear).
Of note, you cannot bring camp stove fuel or bear spray – even in your checked bags. We purchased these items from an REI in Minnesota and picked them up on the way to Duluth.
Campgrounds, Ferries, and Layovers
It was important to us that we knew where we wanted to try to stay each night before heading out.
August is apparently a heavy tourist time for the Northwoods, so we booked our sites in advance as soon as the ability to book a site came up. Jess started booking campsites in January and didn’t stop until sometime in March when the last few campgrounds opened their booking windows.
The only campground we missed was for the first night in Minnesota (Gooseberry Falls) and the second night in Wisconsin (Two Lakes). The first sold out almost instantly; the latter we didn’t realize we’d booked a campsite at the wrong campground until the night before. Both times it worked out, but to avoid the stress of trying to beat holiday travelers to first come first serve sites (which you very likely will not get, especially on a weekend) – book ahead of time. It also gives you a stopping point to look forward to each day.
It also pays to keep trying, even if the campground is full. The third night in Michigan, we had intended to try to get a spot at a rustic campground that is first come first serve because the state campground we wanted was closed for renovations. However, when we rode by, it was actually open and we had our pick of available sites. The ranger said it was a last-minute decision to reschedule the renovations so the campground was slower than usual.
lake views from our tents
The ferries to and from Isle Royale National Park had a bit of scheduling to maneuver around – but it wasn’t onerous or overly complicated. The ferries don’t run every day from Minnesota but they do from Michigan. For planning we picked a date range and then figured out when the ferries were running based on our planned route and adjusted accordingly. We then reached out to the operators to confirm how to book our bikes for the trip as well and got on their manifests.
We also booked all of our indoor lodging in advance as well. This gave us peace of mind as well as targets to look forward to when setting up camp again. Booking ahead is how we got the cute cabin at the Minnetonka Resort instead of a boring motel room. We also were able to build in an additional layover day between Michigan and Wisconsin that we could use – or not use – as we felt.
Things We Couldn’t Live Without On This Trip
Many people asked us what was the most important thing we brought as well as what did we wish we hadn’t brought or didn’t need.
We tried really hard to think of something we brought that we didn’t need and could have left at home and came up with nothing. Even things we didn’t break out were things that could have been needed (first aid kits, trowels, water filters and Aquatabs).
We agreed the number one best thing we brought was theGarmin Messenger satellite tracking device. Our families back home felt at ease being able to track our location and communicate via text, even without cell service.It’s small (3″ x 2″) and light (4oz), making it easy to find a home for on our bikes (I stashed it in one of my handlebar-mounted Mountain Feed Bag mesh side pockets). The Messenger has flexible monthly plans, so you aren’t paying for service when you aren’t using the device. I chose to pay for Search & Rescue insurance to offset S&R costs should that be a necessary action.
Another item that some may think is frivolous, but we found this item to be worth its (less than 2lbs) weight: backpacking chairs. Jess had an REI Flexlite chair; I had a Helinox Ground chair. We had these chairs out at almost every campsite – to relax, to eat dinner or breakfast, or just stare out across the lake.
With a few days and nights of rain, it was important to know if our gear was waterproof or water-resistant. Jess had awesome panniers with so many exterior mesh pockets – she was able to carry a lot more on-the-fly items than I was. But they were water-resistant, which meant additional packing of key items into waterproof containers (ZipLocks, drybags, etc). I had my Ortlieb front rollers (12L each), which are waterproof, but also had to have an extra-large Sea to Summit eVent compression bag (waterproof) to house my soft goods that needed to stay dry.
We also brought a spare small drybag to use as a pack-out container. We also brought a roll of small compostable garbage bags to use at camp and then packed the garbage bags into the drybag, attaching it to the rear rack until we found a garbage bin.
Oh – and camp toilet paper. We had a few campgrounds where the vault toilet did not feature toilet paper. Having our own was clutch.
Finally – skin care. Yes, that sounds super Extra – but the reality is, if we didn’t care for our faces, the trip would have been miserable. Between heat rash and cystic acne, it’s easier to bring witch hazel and facial cleanser wipes than it is to deal with the aftermath of not taking care of our skin. This is in addition to the body wipes and chamois creams we brought. And sunscreen and bug spray.
Jess also brought her Kindle and probably would say that was a super solid choice to bring.
Fueling Strategies
An epic adventure is not the place to underfuel. Both Jess and I worked with registered dieticians to dial in a framework for how to fuel day after day. We didn’t have “numbers to hit” but discussed real foods that support adequate protein, fat, and carbohydrate needs above and beyond everyday nutrition. It doesn’t have to be perfect – but you do need to eat consistently to ensure your body has enough fuel to cover the last hour or so of the journey.
We started our first sports nutrition bar within 60-90 min after starting the day and stopping every 5-10 miles to eat and drink. Lunch was planned for just after the half-way mark.
It’s also important to know your body’s signals that it needs more or is getting enough. The second day in Wisconsin I started out a bit too fast and by lunch, I knew I wasn’t eating enough of what my body needed. When we got to camp, I set everything up and then relaxed while eating salted nuts and Skittles until dinner, which was the highest-calorie meal in my bag. After dinner I felt much better and was able to get a good night’s sleep for the next day’s ride.
Part of our planning was to assess how many nights we would have access to services in a town vs where we would need to have everything we needed at camp (and for how long).
Breakfast consisted mostly of oatmeal, trail mix, and nut butters. I went a little bougie and brought a small can of Starbucks Premium Instant Coffee. This was a brilliant selection as we both had ample coffee for the entire trip. I prefer sugar and cream in my coffee so I packed sugar packets and non-dairy creamer packets into a tiny ziplock with a 1 tsp measuring spoon.
Lunch was often on the side of the road and more often than not, we ate Bumblebee Snack on the Run! Chicken Salad kits and supplemented with chips, sports nutrition bars, and caffeinated beverages (Cokes, Red Bull). The kits were super lightweight, easy to eat on the side of the road, shelf-stable, and delicious.
lunch almost every day – we packed out the trash in the small green bag
Other options were typical gas station fare – hard-boiled eggs, cheese sticks, salty potato chips, full sugar ice teas, peanut butter sandwich crackers, trailmiz bars, granola bars, Skittles and Snickers bars. And pickles.
Dinners were dehydrated backpacking meals. The ease of just needing to boil water to have a satisfying meal at the end of the day is most welcome after a long day. There are a lot of brands out there, but we used Packit Gourmet, Wild Zora, Farm to Summit, and Good To Go with the last four days being Mountain House Adventure Meals (as this is what is available at Walmart). We carried 6 dinners to get us through the first 8 days of riding as we knew 2 of those days could be a restaurant meal.
100%, Jess and I did not jump into this trip without building up our fitness and capacity for multiple days of riding with a full load. Even with being careful in what we brought (and I’m sure many ultralight bikepackers would be appalled at the amount of stuff we brought), we had about 40 pounds of gear and supplies loaded to our bikes every day.
Most of our training consisted of just riding – getting out as often as possible.
After Mid South, I put my smart trainer in a closet and forgot about it for a few months. I focused on riding for fun with friends and not worrying too much about speed or power. It was everything I needed it to be. But come June, I knew I needed to start working on building real capacity and pulled the smart trainer back out.
I set up my Trainer Road training plan for a stage race, because Riding Consecutive Days. I didn’t follow it as strictly as I had for Mid South as I could still get out at least one day on the weekend – but this summer has been pretty wet and it was nice to have an indoor option instead of forcing myself into the rain.
I’m sure some would say I needed to train for riding in the rain, but I’ve done enough of that, thanks.
I also put my 2.2″ tires on my Cutthroat so I could get accustomed to riding them. They always feel so plush until the road tips upward – then it’s just extra rubber to push. But I quickly became acclimated to the extra effort and saw an increase in my FTP when I tested it – so it must have helped
Jess did outdoor rides, loaded, that would simulate our longest days. That was an excellent idea as well.
Mental Preparation
The last topic is mentally preparing for the journey. Not just in planning optimally, but also considering back up plans and alternate routes (and when you would have to make a decision about said alternate route). Having this in your back pocket makes heading out easier because you know you have options.
I’ll be honest that when I thought about the entire trip, I would have a mini panic attack. what are we thinking? can we even do this? But when we thought or talked about a section – one state, one day – we felt calm and confident in our planning.
The takeaway here is – break your big trip into smaller, manageable sections. Think about each section when you are experiencing it. Don’t worry about the next section – you just need to get to the next campsite to be successful.
Once we were on Isle Royale, the trip didn’t feel so big and we could think about more than just the next day in front of us. We had just completed 1/3 of the trip!
We also started thinking in terms of how many more nights of camping in that state to mark passage of time. The longer we were out, the less relevant the day of the week or day of the month it was – especially since we had prebooked all our accommodations. The only times we saw others was either in town or on weekends (lots of ATVers enjoying the trails).
Final Thoughts
With exactly one multi-week adventure under our belts, I feel more confident in planning other multi-day/week trips – and confident that with the right planning and training, these types of trips are accessible to those willing to put in the effort. I’m sure over time we will refine and dial in the stuff we bring (or not bring) and maybe even experiment with not pre-booking our sites to have more flexibility – but at this point, that’s the level of planning we feel comfortable with.
I’m already starting to think about what amazing adventures 2024 will hold.
I’m still basking in the incredible sense of accomplishment and pride in completing the Northwoods 600 – a 600+ mile bikepacking route that circumnavigates the western portion of Lake Superior through Minnesota, Michigan, and Wisconsin. It was nothing short of an epic journey and a test of mental and physical grit.
The Northwoods 600 was created by Bikepacking Roots, a non-profit dedicated to promoting responsible bikepacking and welcoming bikepackers of all races, genders, sexual orientations, and abilities. The route showcases the stunning, rugged beauty of the Northwoods and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and traverses the traditional lands of the Anishinabewaki people.
Buckle up – this is a long post!
Prologue
Shortly after my friend Jess and I completed the Green Mountain Gravel Growler in Vermont, we started thinking about the Northwoods 600. The original plan was to look at 2022 but the timing didn’t work out so we shifted the plan to 2023. We settled on the last two weeks of August to capitalize on the long Labor Day weekend, cooling temps, and hopefully, fewer bugs. We decided camping would keep costs low and give us more flexibility given some sections were in very remote areas.
Over about 9 months, we collaborated on planning in a Google Sheet – breaking the states down into reasonable mileage days, mapping out campgrounds and resupply locations, and other interesting things to look for. We donated to Bikepacking Roots to get the physical guidebook and the PDF version, which we brought with us on the trip for on-the-fly information gathering.
To be sure, this 2- week adventure was out of our collective comfort zones. Neither of us has done a bikepacking trip of this length, much less with most of the accomodations as camping. Camping adds a layer of stress above the usual miles and load – survival is at stake. Setting up camp, making a meal, cleaning up after the meal, making sure everything is bear proof/bear safe … it’s a lot of psychological stress.
I assumed we would be without cell coverage for at least part of the route, but there were a surprising amount of times I didn’t have cell service. I picked up a Garmin Messenger tracking device, which was really helpful in letting friends and family see where we were, we could message them through the device to let them know we were OK, and even get weather forecasts.
Two weeks before our scheduled departure, my youngest adult-aged kid, who lives at home, contacted Covid, which, fortunately, my husband and I did not contract (she isolated in her room and had her own bathroom) but made for a bit of anxiety around how quickly illness could change all our planning. It might have been overkill, but I rapid-tested daily until departure day to be sure.
I made a playlist of the songs that ran through my head over the course of the 2 weeks, in order of the days. Most of these were used as names for my Strava uploads. Mental music helps the miles tick off faster whe we weren’t talking.
Minnesota (Days 1-4)
While Duluth has a regional airport, it was cheaper to fly into Minneapolis/St Paul and rent a car to drive north. We had timed our flights to arrive within an hour of each other, but ultimately my flight was delayed 4 hours – which wasn’t a great way to start the trip but was a bellwether for things to come.
The next morning we had to get our bike bags and suitcases stored. We had arranged with the local bike shop, Twin Ports Cyclery, so we walked our bike bags up to the shop (Denis, the owner, was there and had spent time living in Colorado Springs, which we all bonded over) and then walked to Whole Foods Co-Op to pick up last minute snacks and lunch. All this meant we got a much later start than intended. And …. it was hot.
walking our bike boxes to the bike shopthis shop rocksme, Jess, and Denis the owner
In the late morning, we set our way through Duluth on the Cross-City Trail, which led us to the heavily populated Canal Park. The bike path was lovely other than the multi-use path over I-35, which was absolutely terrifying to ride across.
It’s scary because you can see all the way down to the speeding traffic
Then we began to climb out of the Duluth area and the ride started to feel real. The roads were fairly exposed with little tree cover, so we stopped a few times to cool off, drink water, and eat snacks. The climbs overall were never onerous – relatively nice 2-3% grades for no more than a few miles – but when hauling 40 pounds of gear on your bike, it is more of a marathon than a sprint.
highlights from Minnesota
eating in the shadedidn’t expect exposed roadswhen you forget your beanie, you get one at the gas stationSilver Mine Cliffs TunnelOH HELL YEAHWOO!time to find a place to camp for the night
Exposed Roads that made the heat of the first two days tough. Lots of taking breaks in the shade to cool off, drink fluids, and have a snack
Routing into Two Harbors for food and more water, as we’d already drank the gallon each we were carrying
Finding a selfie station on a trail around a tunnel, and of course we had to take a jumping picture. It took several tries to get it right.
Rolling into Gooseberry Falls State Park 7 minutes before the ranger station closed and scoring the only available place to put us, which happened to be the best spot in the campground. (Minnesota, Michigan, and Wisconsin have a No Turn Away policy for bicycle travelers who need accommodations at campgrounds even if they are full.)
I break one of my tent poles. Thankfully, Big Agnes includes a pole splint.
sunrise over our campsite – Lake Superior in the background
the Gitchi-Gami Trail is a GEM of a paved bikepath from Gooseberry Falls to Silver Bay
Stopping in Beaver Bay for snacks and more water, relaxing in the shade by a giant beaver statue
More exposed paved roads = so hot
Stopping a few feet into a driveway to rest, eat, and drink in a small spot of shade. A little old woman comes out of her house – we think she will offer us water or some other comfort in the heat – but she yells “PICK UP YOUR SHIT AND MOVE ALONG.”
Stopping a mile or so later at the Lax Lake Resort to rest in their driveway and chat with the proprietors, who assured us that woman was like that to everyone
Getting to Finland, MN and buying a lot of food because it was our last resupply for 70 miles (we were still 30 miles from our intended campsite)
watching a beaver play in a pond full of lily pads
getting the last open campsite!!
Gitchi-Gami TrailBeaver Bay, Pop 120long lonesome roadsneat raodside stuffFinland, our final resupply for 70 milestaking pics while ridingthis is what I took a pic ofbeaver! rusticmore long, lonesome roadsLast campsite available!!the lake near camp
RAIN overnight. The first of a few days where temps were getting cooler and every night was soggy. Fortunately, our tents kept us warm and dry; although I realized I had neglected to re-waterproof my rainfly before the trip.
Roads are two-tracks and trails are roads. It didn’t make sense. Regardless, there were a ton of mosquitos. BUGGINS Performance insect repellent kept them at bay (mostly)
Shorter day but no resupply until we get to Grand Marais for the night
OK lunch at Fisherman’s Daughter, then off to our campsite, dinner at Voyageur Brewery
cooler temps and rainrice lake road is a trailwith big puddlesCaribou Trail is a roadJess looking bad asslunch!camp for the night
RAIN AGAIN. The forecast looked super gloomy with severe weather overnight. We opt to have breakfast in town (Java Moose), and skip the “most remote and rustic” part of Minnesota to ride up the coast on MN61.
Wonderful views of Lake Superior as we ride on the wide shoulder
Setting up camp at the Grand Portage Marina, which feels like the edge of the world, especially with the strong winds coming off the bay
Someone giving us fish caught earlier in the day. They didn’t know we don’t eat fish, especially from strangers. We ate in the casino restaurant instead.
No severe weather overnight, but the WIND was so intense
still smilingdamp dayscenery is UNREALheading into the reservationgetting supplies at the Trading Postsetting up camp in the windfeels like the edge of the world
Isle Royale National Park (Days 5-6)
Early the next morning, we packed up our stuff and rode over to the ferry to Isle Royale National Park. We booked our spots on the Voyageur II, a US Mail Boat specifically designed for operation on the Great Lakes. We pre-gamed with Dramamine because the weather has been so iffy.
Sure enough, Lake Superior was in a fine mood and we both felt nauseated despite the anti-motion sickenss meds. A steady stream of Gin Gin hard candies kept things down for us (but others were “feeding the fishes” off the back). Two hours later, we pull into Windigo dock for our park orientation.
Our boatour bikes were hoisted and strapped down on the roofLake Superior MoodWindigo Dock
Back on the boat for the 6 hour trip around the island to Rock Harbor, where we would be staying overnight.
The first 5 hours of this portion were lovely – calm waters as we sailed the smooth water along the western coastline of Isle Royale. We had a pick up at one of the remote docks and sailing in McCargoe Cove was absolutely magical. (Excuse the noise – we were sitting in or directly behind the engine room)
engine room seating in the engine roomJess and I on the bowMcCargoe Cove
As we rounded the northern end of the island, things got … interesting. The waves were getting larger, the boat listing a bit more from side to side. Then the doors to the engine room where we were sitting started banging open and closed. The boat listed so hard at one point it felt like it was at a 45* angle and everyone was bracing themselves against what was surely going to be a rollover.
In that half-second, my brain calculated that there wasn’t enough time to grab life jackets and that our bikes were surely headed to the bottom of the lake.
Fortunately, our captain was All Pro and navigated us safely around the island and into the calm waters of Rock Harbor with a jovial “Well, THAT was fun!” Jess chatted with him as our bikes were being unloaded – he said the 10-foot waves we were in were relatively mild compared to how it can get on Lake Superior. Yikes.
The only words on my mind are RESPECT. Respect for our captain and crew and for the raw power of nature.
We got our camping permit, locked our bikes to the racks at the docks, and walked our bags to a campsite to set up and eat some food before retiring early.
I had to walk back to our bikes to get some items we left and on my way back on the trail to our campsite, I noticed a medium sized black dog with pointy ears trotting towards me. My first thought was “oh, someone’s dog is loose!” – but immediately recalled that dogs are not allowed on the island. This is a fox. I stopped; the black fox stopped to observe me, decided I wasn’t a threat, and trotted off into the brush.
No photos, but it did happen! I felt so lucky!
The next morning we slept in late, as our next ferry wasn’t until afternoon, and we had a relaxed breakfast before packing everything up and reloading our bikes. We wandered around the dock, had lunch on the restaurant porch, bought souvenirs and snacks, and then spent a few hours just looking out over the lake. It was nice to not do anything for a bit. We took a short hike to the America Dock and saw the ferry we would take coming in. It was at least three times as large as our previous ferry, which relieved us that the trip to Michigan would be much smoother.
When it was time for the Queen IV ferry to load our bikes up, the crew was astonished to learn we were carrying a gallon of water each on our bikes. We did – every day. While we had water filters, Minnesota is marshland and we opted to just fill up in the morning and as needed along the way. They made us remove some gear so they could get the bikes up and secured on the roof.
The 3.5 hour ferry to Copper Harbor, Michigan was smooth and uneventful. We chatted with a few couples who had been stranded on Isle Royale for a few days because they had come over on the sea planes, which weren’t flying due to weather/fog. Sea plane visitors are at the mercy of the ferries back to the mainlands having space.
welcome to Rock Harborour campsiteAttn Bikepackers: You gotta leave your bike at the docksQueen IV ferrySittin’ on the dock of the Bay …
Lake Superior Moods
Let’s Talk about Copper Harbor
We landed at the dock and got our bicycles and gear from the ferry. Somehow my fork had been loosened and it wasn’t lining up with my handlebars – but we were only two blocks from our cabin at the Minnetonka Resort for the night so we walked up there, got the keys, and tightened up the fork.
After taking a shower, we decided to walk down to Mariner North to get a pizza and cheese curds.
While waiting for our pizza to be done, a woman walked up to the bar where we were standing and told one of the servers “I can’t figure out how to make my television work.” (the restaurant is also a lodge). The server excused themselves and soon an older man who appeared to be the manager came over. She explained she couldn’t figure out the TV and quipped “This is the strangest place I’ve ever been.” to which he replied, in the most Wisconsin accent ever, “Oh-KEY” You could see his brain working on how to respond to this woman’s issue when he blurted out “Right now. We can do it right now. Right now, or in an hour and a half.” The poor woman was bewildered and agreed to go now to get her TV set up. We left with our pizza and cheese curds laughing the whole walk back to the cabin.
That night as we chatted in the softest, most cloud-like beds ever slept in, we started a list of all the catch phrases so far:
… but did you die on a boat?
Then pick up your shit and move along!
This is the strangest place I’ve ever been – Oh-KEY.
Michigan (Days 7-10)
Copper Harbor is a tiny tourist town at the very tip of the Keweenah Peninsula (which, isn’t actually a peninsula; it’s an island because the canal in Houghton is natural) that is home to some of the best mountain biking trails in the Midwest. It’s also home to an extensive network of ATV trails, which we learned very quickly. Michigan was a tough state, and we adjusted the route almost every day for various reasons (mostly, the ATV roads were rocky and sandy, which sucks energy and speed).
highlights from Michigan
Tightening every bolt on our bikes before leaving town
Climbing out of Copper Harbor on quiet, gorgeous dirt roads
Turning left and seeing “Extremely Rough Road Ahead”
Ending up on very rugged, rocky ATV roads – making another turn and it’s been freshly graded with a few inches of loamy red dirt. For the next several miles. We pushed our bikes a lot up hills
Bye, cabinpeaceful scenerygorgeousso magicalstill smilingbeginning of the chunkfreshly groomed loamy red dirt ATV trails
Putting too much power through my pedals to get up a technical uphill trail when I hear a ka-CHUNK. Get the chain back on the cogs – but Jess notices the smaller front ring is loose. She tries to tighten the bolts but they won’t tighten. And two of them are missing. We put it the chain on the big chainring and I delicately pedal (and walk) the last few miles to the road.
We stop in a parking lot of a marina before deciding to ride back to Copper Harbor’s bike shop. We’re in 15 miles, it’s been 3 hours, and we have a 15-mile ride back on the paved roads. I pedal as gently as I can. US41 is beautiful.
Losing the two spacers we had at some point, Eric at Keweenaw Adventure Company McGuyver’s my small chainring together so I can finish the ride. I am eternally thankful.
As soon as my bike is fixed and recombobulated, we get a Squall Warning and take shelter under the bike barn to wait out the rain
We decide to just ride US41 to where we would have picked up the trail and take that in to camp.
riding back to Copper Harbor Sqall!back on ATV trailsmore trailsstill more trailsour tiny campsitethe eponymous copper mine
Feeling a bit tired from the extra long day, we decided to reroute to a more direct way to our next campground. We found some nice quiet dirt backroads, spent some time on US41, crossed the bridge at Houghton, and enjoyed lunch by the canal before climbing out and making our way to the Bill Nichols Trail. It has moments of hardpack but far more chunky loose gravel, random sand pits, and abundant shade.
Champion Mine was a nice surprise to check out before continuing on.
We originally planned to camp at a dispersed campground, but as we passed Twin Lakes State Park, we noticed it was open. We scored an amazing site with lake views.
beautiful sceneryflowers outside Pat’s Foodslunch time!Champion Minethis part of the ATV trail had been freshly scrapedTwin Lakes Campgroundview from my tentJess enjoying coffee in the chilly morning air
We settled in for the night, thrilled with our luck at finding a site that had bathrooms, showers, and an electric hookup to charge our devices. As the night wore on, it felt colder than it had been at any point in the trip. we piled on more layers in our sleeping bags, and cinched the hood over our faces to keep warm.
My alarm goes off at 7am and it’s cold. We pop out of our tents to agree that 36* F is not something we want to try to do anything in – and went back to sleep in our sleeping bags until 8:30am, when it was in the 40s.
We pre-rerouted Day 3 in Michgan because the intended route would have been 70 miles and we’re starting to feel tired from hauling 40 pounds of stuff on unforgiving chunky roads. We followed the route until Mass City, which we then jumped on the road and headed up to Ontonagon, along Lake Superior, and into the Porcupine Mountain Wilderness Area.
Mass City is the poster child for poverty in rural, small towns. The market didn’t have much food so we went to the gas station for lunch. Two kids on dirt bikes were brapping around; an older guy was providing alcohol to younger girls; the gas station ladies were smoking pot in the bathroom. It was a bit depressing to be in a depressed area.
The Porkies were great! We had a site with ample distance between our tents and our cooking area. We stashed our bear bags in the bear-proof trash container for the night.
how much more of this sand?logging roadssky tresslesJess is braver than meLake Superior in the backgroundof course we had to take a picalmost to campawesome, large campsite
Pedaling out of the Porkies the next morning and making our way to our layover in Ironwood.
A really big hill that we had to take a break at the top. Our legs are definitely feeling the previous days now.
Overgrown two-tracks that had us dodging babyhead rocks and tree branches – and a culvert crossing with super steep banks
Beautiful scenery into Bessemer
Iron Bell Bike Path was a welcome respite.
We came out of the woods to this viewstill smiling! steep culvert washoutmore time in the woodsso nice and shadythe road to our layover
Layover in Ironwood, MI (Days 10-11)
We deeply craved a day off to rest, shower, do laundry (last time we cleaned our clothing was in Grand Portage), and eat. We walked a mile to the laundromat and then had lunch next door while we waited for the washer. Real food tastes so good now, and we ordered the World’s Smallest Sundae each to celebrate how far we’d come.
World’s smallest sundae
The next day we took a taxi to Walmart to pick up everything we would need for our final four days across Wisconsin, as all four days would be mostly without any resupply options. It felt good to sleep in a bed again.
With access to cell service and internet, we were able to connect with out families and started to really miss them. The weight of being gone for so long was hitting hard.
Wisconsin (Days 12-15)
We knew this state was the least amount of total miles but the most remote. The route doesn’t pass through many towns, so it was important to have what we needed each day. Our lunches have consisted of BumbleBee Chicken Salad To Go kits on the side of the road, supplemented with whatever beverage we bought at the last gas station we saw and maybe chips or a ClifBar. We basically eat like college kids again – and eat a lot, all the time.
Unfortunately, the route maps indicated most of the roads were paved; we discovered quickly that most of the roads were loose gravel or worse, sand. This was incredibly disheartening as we labored through another 20-miles-in-three-hours day.
highlights from Wisconsin
Leaving Ironwood, we stop at the Hiawatha statue in a town park
Within a few miles we are in Wisconsin without fanfare – no sign or obelisk to denote the passage.
We are missing our families, tired, and annoyed at every small incline on loose gravel. It’s a mentally tough day.
But Wisconsin is a different kind of beauty than Minnesota or Michigan – and we enjoy the changing landscape – even if we are on ATV roads for the rest of the route.
We get to our Forest Service campground and have the most magical site
the road cut through a lakebasically where we rode every daythe rocks show the lake is down pretty lowmore loose gravel roadsmore sceneryheading into the woods againso much waterthere were definitely moments we thought we were the Ding Dongs in the areapedaling in the shadesuper cool line of trees on the way to our campsitehome for the night
The next morning we go out little too fast because I just want to get to the next campsite and relax again. By lunch, Jess is chugging a RedBull and I’m realizing I haven’t eaten enough and don’t have anything with caffeine to fuel the afternoon. OPE
Getting to a turn onto singletrack and NOPE’ing it. We ride the rustic road up the the County Road and head west on the pavement.
We see a sign for the campground we’re looking for and take the shortcut.
We score another great lakeside spot and refuel before turning it in early. The next few days are expected to be hot.
real and true photo of the lake just after sunrisevery lovely two-trackit was a joy to ride onhey look -still smiling!my passenger for a few milesshady roads are my jamspoilers: the rustic roads did not endhome for the nightour site!
Jess captured this sunset
It’s the final two days! I want to tell you that there was some poetic moment of bittersweet emotion about this, but the reality is we were super ready to finish, finish strong, and go home.
We stocked up at the local General Store and headed to Solon Springs on quiet dirt and loose gravel roads.
At some point we popped out of the forest and found ourselves on an exposed, loose gravel road that was a series of rollers. It was hot and we stopped in the shade for a bit and chat with two hunters who had just finished setting up their stands.
Back on ATV “roads” what were mostly sand. Deep sand. Jess floated through it while I struggled to keep my bike upright. We both nearly crashed several times though – the deepest sand would grab the wheels and pull them in whatever direction it wanted.
We get to our final camping site in a town park after what felt like the longest day of our lives.
It’s hot, we’re sweaty, and gross. So we shower in the bathhouse, but the water is sulfered, so now everything smells vaguely like rotten eggs.
It’s 80*F when we crawl into bed at 8pm.
well stocked general storesmooooth pavementback in the woodsfreshly scraped!STILL SMILINGcow in reposethe road curves left – but you end up going straight ahead up the hillJess capturing me spinning up a hilldeep sand for a few milesour last campsite for the trip
Our last day and it’s going to be a scorcher so we get up early and head out by 8:30am to get water from the grocery store.
Oh look, more loose gravel backroads!
We were chased or approached by aggressive dogs three times before we decided to reroute to more main roads for a bit.
Soon the forest gave way to open farmland
We saw a flock of turkeys and they scattered as we rolled up – some flew away, some ran under the fence. But one smaller turkey was near a part of the fence that didn’t have an easy way to duck under – and the poor thing just kept running into the bottom of the fence frantically, trying to get to the other side.
Superior, WI is remarkably flat
One mile before we get to the bike path on the bridge to Duluth, a woman stops at a stop sign and then proceeds even though we were entering the intersection and have the right of way. Her passenger is yelling at her to “stop, bikes!” She does, in the middle of the intersection, but then starts slowly rolling towards us as we pass in front of her. I yell at her “YOU CAN STOP NOW. YOU CAN STOP.” Literally 2 miles from the end of our epic adventure and we are almost hit by a careless driver. We were certainly in more danger in towns and cities than we were out on the country roads.
last minute water and snacksearly start due to expected heatthis was the third dog to chase or be aggressive towards usthe route had us crossing in-service railroad trackslast bits of forestquintessential Wisconsinthe bridge back to DuluthSTILL SMILING 15 days later
Epilogue
When we rolled up to our hotel in Duluth, an undenyable sense of accomplishment and pride engulfed us. The sheer intensity of biking and camping and adjusting on the fly; broken bikes and flat tires; creepy campgrounds and freezing temperatures; WE DID IT.
before we could get cleaned up, we had to walk to the bike shop to get our bags, which had our clean clothing for going home
We celebrated with a restaurant meal, doing two loads of laundry, repacking our bikes and bags, and going to sleep in a bed again. The next morning I had Dwarf King taxi take me to the airport to pick up the rental car.
Upon sitting in the driver’s seat I had to think for a minute about how to drive.
We loaded up our bike bags, hit the road to Minneapolis, and eventually our flights to our respective homes.
so good to be home
Overall, I would definitely do this route again with a friend. Jess and I were exceptionally well-matched as adventure partners, making the whole trip so enjoyable. Our focus was to have fun, and we certainly did despite challenges along the way.
wife. mother. awesome girl. 