August 4, 2023October 2, 2023 2023 Tour Divide Reflections/Training/Memories/Pack list July 29th in Antelope Wells Reflections: “It’s all mental man.” This was the response I received from a tour divide veteran, while sitting in a bustling Tim Hortons in Banff, Alberta, hours before the start of the 2023 Tour Divide. I had asked him if he had any advice for rookie riders such as myself. I nodded my head while anxiously sipping my coffee, attempting to appear as if I understood what he was telling me. After all, I had spent much of the last year reading articles, listening to podcasts, and watching videos about the Tour Divide. So I got it. Yeah man- it’s all mental. Totally. Looking back on that moment in Banff, so full of pre-race jitters, I now realize that I had no way of comprehending the degree of truth that these brief words of wisdom would eventually hold for me. When I speak to people about riding in the Tour Divide, most respond with some question or comment related to the physicality of such an endeavor. “What do you eat?” “Your legs must get so tired!” “You’re gonna need a seat with a lot of cushion for that!” (my favorite so far). Yes, it is definitely a physical challenge. My body felt more drained than it ever had before. Muscles cramping, tendons stressed close to their breaking point, falling asleep on the bike, back pain, headaches, and just sheer exhaustion are a few of the side effects one experiences while repeatedly riding 18+ hours a day. But all of that somehow seems to pale in comparison to the vast mental challenges that riders must inevitably grapple with throughout this race. The crowd gathers in front of the YWCA hotel for the start of the race. When I pause to consider what I’ve gained from finishing the Tour Divide, it really has nothing to do with anything physical, but more a kind of strength that resides “up there.” It has to do with managing the constant creep of self doubt, anxiety, and frustratingly persistent habit of comparing myself to others. It has to do with realizing a growing competitive nature, and struggling to find a healthy relationship to it. It has to do with putting the past behind me, while also ignoring the future, and finding a way to live in the moment. When faced with 2700 miles to go, and three weeks of non stop riding, it’s so hard to not feel completely overwhelmed. I learned to become highly attuned to my immediate physical and mental well needs. Sometimes that meant finding inspiration in the natural beauty of the landscape I was immersed within, or rejoicing in the momentary breaks from solitude that riding with others would often present. Or it could be as simple as single mindedly focusing on a cold bottle of chocolate milk, patiently waiting for you 20 miles down the road, which will undoubtedly taste like nothing less than heaven when you finally drink it (but be wary of that let down if the store is sold out). One of the most often repeated questions I’ve heard from people about the Tour Divide, is “why?” I usually answer with a surface level response of “because I enjoy it” or “it’s a ‘bucket list’ goal of mine”. However, I suppose a more truthful response would have something to do with gaining self awareness; a process which is often both hard earned and hard to accept (and definitely not as cool-sounding an answer). After hours and hours on the bike with the absence of life’s daily distractions, I started to notice my mental patterns more so than usual. I gradually came to realize that the only real obstacles that I had to overcome in order to finish the race, were internal rather than external. The real value of all that riding comes from the realization that those were the same obstacles threatening to hold me back in my life off the bike. Enjoying a rare sit down breakfast with a Jared and Steve- two of the many outstanding people I had the privilege of riding with. The veteran rider at Tim Hortons also told me that the Tour Divide makes everyone cry at some point. I sort of laughed off this comment at the moment, but I’ll now admit that he was right. The tears did indeed flow- multiple times to be honest. Sometimes from pain, sometimes from joy, sometimes inexplicably. Whatever those tears were about, the truth of that advice I received is clear now… it really is all mental. And from my experience- what holds true on the bike, so does also in life. Training:The Tour Divide race usually takes place over a few weeks, depending on the finish time goals of individual riders. However, the actual time commitment that most riders put into this race is far longer. Training is just as big a part of a successful completion of the Tour Divide as the actual riding from Banff to Antelope Wells. After deciding that I wanted to race in the 2023 Tour Divide, I started seriously training on January 1st, 2023. My general approach to training was to keep it simple, fun, and varied. This mostly consisted of riding my bike as much as possible, trail running, stretching/yoga, and a bit of general strength training. I had recently completed my first trail running marathon, which I had spent approximately three months training for. My approach for that marathon was to simply run a lot during the week, with long runs on the weekends that increased by one mile each week. I used this same approach for the Tour Divide. My weekly riding mileage consisted of commuting to work (10 miles a day), and 1.5-2 hour rides afterwards (usually 30-40 mile rides, or hill reps). By the time Friday rolled around, I would typically have logged somewhere around 200 miles, and I would then do my long ride on Saturday or Sunday. Long rides usually increased 10-20 miles each week. My goal for the Tour Divide was to hit a target of around 130-150 miles per day, so I knew that I had to work up to somehow replicating that as much as possible, along with roughly similar elevation (around 10k per day). Starting on January 1st gave me enough time to gradually increase the mileage each week, with the target goal of riding back to back 130 mile days, sometime towards the end of May. The biggest challenge I faced with training was figuring out how to fit it into my daily life. I had to accept the fact that, during the six months leading up to the Tour Divide, I would have to sacrifice a great deal of time for other activities that I enjoyed. Yet still, sometimes those other demands took precedence over training. I really believe it’s a balancing act. If you let training completely take over, it can become a toxic presence in your life. There has to be a balance. It shouldn’t erode your relationships or social life, and it should also be fun. I probably should’ve done more hill reps, but riding on a trail is just so much more enjoyable. At the same time, there has to be a dedication to that daily routine. There were so many days that I just felt totally exhausted and drained (often due to the demands and stress of work), yet I had to force myself to get back on the bike and crank out those daily miles. Funny enough, riding in the TD is very similar. You wake up feeling like absolute death after riding for 18 hours straight, and have to find some way to get back on your bike and do it all over again… and that process continues, day after day! This is why training is so important. It’s partly about building up muscles and strength, but I believe it’s more about building up mental resilience. It’s creating that habit of just getting back on the bike, over and over again, regardless of how you feel at the moment. Another important aspect of how my training process evolved has to do with the bike itself. A lot of my early training was done on my geared gravel bike, often on paved roads. However, after a few months I started to get a nagging anxiety that my rides were nothing like what I would be doing on the divide. So I transitioned to riding my single speed mountain bike a lot more often, preferably loaded up with weight, and going up hills whenever possible. I really started to focus on (even obsess with) trying to replicate the type of riding I would be doing on the Tour Divide. I think this really helped me figure out a lot of the nitpicky details of the specific bike and gear set up, while also increasing the rigor of my training rides. I did a good amount of local route research, and picked a handful of weekends in which I could carve out enough time (with the support of my partner and family) to put in back to back 130 mile/10k ascent/mostly gravel rides. In the hills of Virginia, this was the closest I could get to actual divide riding. All of this was a very generalized plan. Sometimes I followed it faithfully, and other times I veered from it drastically. The demands of life don’t go away just because you’re training for a big bike race. I’m certainly not a professional, and I still had to work 40+ hours a week, cook, clean, take care of my dogs, and try to have a somewhat normal social life. However, I think having those goals helped me stay focused on what I was trying to do. It was a constant presence in my life for those six months. When I wasn’t training, I was doing research about gear and the route. Ask anyone that is close to me, and there’s no doubt that I became completely obsessed. It’s definitely a little bit crazy, but I don’t think I could have successfully done it any other way. Memories: A new friend I made in New Mexico. Looking back on my experience riding in the 2023 Tour Divide, it really all starts to blend together. There’s something about pedaling over vast distances, day after day, where your perception of time and space starts to gradually shift. It’s hard to explain. Time seems to stretch out, the names of towns blend together, and something that happened just a day ago might seem like it was a week in the past already. When reflecting on it, it’s really a pretty strange experience. So instead of giving a day by day break down (which my memory is too terrible at doing anyway) I’ll just list a few random highlights that stand out to me, with images scattered throughout. These are some of the many random events, words spoken, or sights seen that left some type of impression on me. Brush Mountain Lodge- the greatest place on earth. The mecca of every Tour Divide rider. Brush Mountain Lodge, Colorado- This first bit might help to illuminate this “altered perception” mindset that I’m attempting to describe. While staying at Brush Mountain Lodge, one of the (very much beloved) people who work there told me that she used to work as a “trip guide” in the 60s, helping people process their experiences on psychedelic drugs. This person reflects on how, what she does now (helping riders on the Tour Divide) is basically the same thing. “You’re all tripping” she says. I laugh, and heartily agree that yes, we are indeed. Helena, Montana- I pull up to a Burger King after a hard day of riding, which appears open but totally devoid of all human activity. Two teenagers hanging out behind the counter, eyeing me up with obvious curiosity. They take my order, and we chat a bit (in which the younger one, after seeing that I’m a rider, excitedly tells me all about the Tour de France race, and urges me to “definitely check it out man”). After handing me my food, the older one gives me some sagely advice: “remember brother, time is a human construct, so rest up”. Amazing. This young shaman of Burger King just casually gave me a side order of philosophical nuggets to chew on for the next few days of riding. As I sit outside eating my food, I spot him taking out the trash while pulling generous hits from a vape pen. I sit on the sidewalk, shamelessly wolfing down my bacon double whopper, while my tired brain attempts to unravel the mysteries of the universe. Is time really a construct? If the earth is orbiting the sun, and I’m averaging 10 mph on my bike, how fast am I really going? What exactly is onion ring sauce? Can I really have it my way? Lincoln, Montana- Riding over Richmond pass at night to arrive in this small ghost town. The picture to the right (taken by Jorne Bluekens, who also put together a rad youtube video of his 2023 ride) shows the sun setting that night and I still had about 30 miles of riding to go over the pass. This was my first pass at night on the Tour Divide, and I was definitely nervous. Steve Whitaker rode with me a bit explaining “glad you’re here too mate”, but then proceeded to crush it up the pass leaving me in the dust. This occurred a few times along the route- Steve is a hell of a rider. It was all good though. I got over it fine. The steep descent was certainly sketchy at night though, and this was the first moment when I realized something was wrong with my k-lite. Pulled into Lincoln around 1 am, and decided to escape the cold by sleeping in a post office. This was also my first time realizing the value of post offices. They’re open all night long. If you don’t mind the lights, it’s a great way to get some shelter. Not sure if it’s legal or not. So you didn’t hear it from me. Atlantic City, Wyoming- Before entering the Basin, I was pushing through the night in the rain. I felt find about it though, because I knew that I had my fancy new tarp tent to keep me dry at night. I start to set up my tent in the rain at night, reach in the bike bag.. and realize that my tent pole has decide to jump ship. The mutinous bastard decided to abandon our crew (I have a habit of personifying my individual pieces of gear.. which is a completely sane thing to do). So, standing there in the dark and drizzling rain, I realize that I have zero shelter, and my helmet light starts to run low on battery. There is roughly eight miles of uphill climbing to the next town (where supposedly a group of other riders are staying). I miserably crank out the miles, mad at myself the whole time for losing the tent pole. I ride into town soaking wet and find the bed and breakfast spot where everyone is staying. I’m amicably greeted by Bennie, who seems to be waiting up for me. This is one of numerous examples of how tour divide riders are always looking out for one another. It’s not necessarily “assistance” (forbidden by the rules of the race), but just a way of continually checking in on one another, to make sure everyone’s staying safe out there. Bennie kindly tries to help me look for a spot to crash on, but all the rooms are full of riders, either in beds or on floors. Looking for a room, we open a random door to a damp and messy tool shed. “Perfect” I say. I can put my sleeping bag right on the floor. No problem. It’s not a bed, but I’m out of the rain. Plus there’s charging sockets (can’t ask for anything more). The next morning we’re all served breakfast by the older couple that runs the B&B. Before heading out, we all have to square up with the owner. “$100 a person” he says. Not wanting to tell the man that I slept in his tool shed, I reluctantly hand over my credit card. $100 for a few eggs and a spot on oil stained plywood, next to a lawn mower. It’s the kind of thing I had to laugh off. In the end, I’m grateful to have escaped the cold and rain. Anyway, I couldn’t afford to dwell on it, because the hardest part of the route was coming up. As we pulled out of that small town, each bike loaded up heavy with extra water, the desolate immensity of the Basin loomed ahead of us. The Basin, Wyoming- The never ending wind begins. Hot. Dry. Flat. Strong and steady headwinds, that blow so hard they would threaten to push me off the bike at time. I get well acquainted with the deflating feeling of seeing “2 mph” on my bike computer, and realizing that I was pedaling harder than I had at any point so far. This is the hardest point on the whole route for me. It’s so flat, exposed, and (most of all) windy. This is also maybe the only point where I really do wish I had gears. Flat sections can be so demoralizing on a single speed. I just had to somehow make peace with it. It takes me somewhere around 18 hours to go 70 miles. I remember being so damn happy when I saw the gas station sign pulling into Rawlins. It’s a feeling unlike any other. When you’re in the middle of nowhere, completely out of water and food, bored out of your skull, and hurting like hell, seeing that first sign of civilization brings a jolt of euphoria that is impossible to reproduce. Bikepacking is partly about escaping the many comforts and distractions of modern society, but at the same time, it’s also about gaining a sense of gratitude for those same aspects of every day life. After stumbling into that gas station, I ordered a footlong tuna Subway sandwich (loaded up with extra tuna), and I had no doubt in my mind that it was clearly the greatest example of culinary achievement ever produced in human history. I really don’t think I could’ve been happier in that moment. But alas, it was only a small respite from the harsh realities of the Basin. Two more days of windy and flat riding remained before the route would start to climb out of that unrelenting stretch of desolate land. I now understand why Sofiane hated the Basin so much. However, I’m also very grateful it wasn’t full of peanut butter mud like it was for some of the race leaders. Pick your poison out there I suppose. Somewhere sweltering and flat in New Mexico- Snack break with the crew (at this point, these are folks I’ve been leap frogging with on and off with throughout the whole trip) on the side of the road, on another hot and windy day. Zach farts loudly. “That’ll tell you more about bikepacking than anything Miles Arbour ever wrote”. We all laugh so hard it hurts. Despite the exhaustion of the day, the laughter is energizing. Basin, Montana- Pull into Basin after an early morning, muddy climb/descent of Lava mountain (which included me going over the handlebars at one point, luckily sinking right into foot deep mud). I stop at a tiny restaurant serving breakfast. The server kindly greets me and takes my order of coffee (lots of it!) and french toast. She is so friendly and kind to me. The homely atmosphere of the small town place warms my cold bones and raises my spirits. Another group of locals walks in. The conversation is loud and ranging over all topics, but eventually turning to the one that clearly perks up everyone’s attention- politics. Suddenly my seemingly sweet and kind server is explaining (still with a smile on her face) “well I just hope Hillary dies, she’s just the worst”. Said out loud for anyone else in the restaurant to hear, and seemingly not a statement that shocked anyone in there (excepting myself). I wanted to include this memory not as a way for me deride these locals, but simply to illustrate the types of conversations I you might hear in small towns all over the country right now. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disturbed, but a lot of my bikepacking trips have brought me to rural areas just like that town. If you live in a city, and never leave that urban bubble, you’ll have no clue how differently people think, feel, and speak in this country. And vice versa for folks who never step foot in a city. I was grateful for the coffee and food, but didn’t really want to hear where else that conversation was heading. I rode on, reflecting on how good it felt to be detached from the daily toxicity of politics and the news in our country. None of that stuff seems relevant out on the trail. Not to say that it doesn’t matter in real life. But, I think republicans and democrats should go bikepacking (or backpacking) together. It might solve a lot of our problems. Just north of Silver City, New Mexico- Rolling through the canyons of northern New Mexico at dusk. The wind of the day has finally died down, and evening is air is cooling. Aphex Twin’s “Selected Ambient Works 85-92” is playing on my speaker. As I continue rolling on into the darkening night (this stretch of the route is pavement- always a welcomed break), I turn off my headlamp, and look up to see the vast expanse of the Milky Way spread out above me. The ethereal beats of Richard James echo off the surrounding ancient canyon walls. I’m all alone. The immensity of the universe seems to flow all around me. My existence seems to insignificantly small and fleeting, yet I feel so grateful to be alive in this moment. Approaching Antelope Wells, New Mexico- Jared and Nathan are riding ahead of me, cranking out the final 60 miles of flat pavement that approaches the border. I had caught up with them a few times throughout the day, but they push on, moving too fast for me. The temps never drop below 100, except for that last stretch of pavement approaching the border. The sun starts to set, cooling the air and illuminating the distant mountains that frame the flat stretch of land around us. There seems to be a dusky glow all about, setting an reflective mood for those final few hours of the journey. I’m generously caffeinated, riding along with tunes pumping, totally elated at the thought of soon achieving a goal that I’ve had for the past 5 years. Yet, 60 miles of flat pavement on one gear is still a formidable final challenge. So I start to use the two riders ahead of me as motivation. I can just barely glimpse their figures, far ahead along with flat pavement. I start sprinting, on and off. Rest, sprint, and repeat. It works better for me than a slow monotonous chug of pedaling. Time to put it all on the line. Not really racing, just feeling great, and wanting to push hard to the end. As the night sets in, I finally catch up to the riders ahead of me. They’re both shocked to see me (it had been hours since we last saw each other), and Jared jokingly exclaims “seeing you coming up from behind was like a shot of cocaine!” We all laugh and ride together, reflecting on the last few weeks and sharing the many emotions that are starting to set in as the border quickly approaches. Jared and I realize a shared love of Gangstarr, and vibe out to “Up in the Clouds” on his speaker. He then gradually rides ahead, and I resume sprinting, attempting to catch him. All in good spirit. I come in hot, skidding to a stop, just before riding into the concrete bars that lead up the border gate. Emerging from my sprinting daze, I am cheerfully greeted by Jared’s lovely family. It’s over. Done. I just rode from Canada to Mexico. After talking about it for 5 years, I actually did it. My partner Lizzy pulls up in the van, with our the dogs inside. She’s kind enough to bring pizza and beer to share with the other finishers. Some of the folks who were ahead of me already left, but I stick around for a while to greet riders as they gradually roll in. It’s so cool to see people in that instance of final accomplishment and relief- such a huge moment in the lives of each individual. Hugs and cheers ensue. Everyone present can’t stop smiling. The joy is infectious. Stories and memories are shared. Pizza and beer is consumed. Then we each part ways, all in search of a much needed shower and a bed. Our lives await, but the route remains. The winding gravel roads, looming mountains, unrelenting wind, rain, mud, wildlife, starry nights, and small towns. It’s all still out there. Until next time. The road leaving Antelope Wells, NM- “Oh my god, slow down!” I exclaim, as my girlfriend drives our van away from the border at a perfectly normal speed. It will never cease to shock me after a long bike trip. Cars are soooo much faster than bikes. The Gear: Orbi all loaded up in Richmond, VA All the gear. Figuring out my specific gear set up for the Tour Divide was a long and constantly evolving process. There are so many different types of setups that you can go with and a lot of it is dependent on personal preference. Drops or flat bars? What type of dynamo lighting? Which GPS system? Sleeping bag or quilt? Bivy or tent? The choices can seem endless and even overwhelming at times. In my experience, a lot of this needs to be figured out through actual testing out on the trail. You can read/watch all the gear reviews you want, but it’s tough to know whether or not a certain piece of gear will work for you until you actually use it on the trail (preferably in all types of weather). However, testing out every piece of gear can require a lot of time and money. So it’s definitely worth it to spend time researching all the options out there. I spent a great deal of time reading about other riders’ setups, and pouring over the details of individual packlists. When it comes to bikepacking (and especially bikepack racing, where you’re trying to run as light a setup as possible), every single piece of gear is so essential. Reading the detailed packlists of other riders was such a valuable part of my preparation. There’s a sort of dichotomy in bikepacking culture, in that it thrives through its dedication to a DIY ethos, yet also through the sharing of valuable and hard-earned information. I owe a massive debt of gratitude to so many riders who have successfully raced the Tour Divide and shared all the details about exactly how they did it. So in that same spirit, here’s my 2023 Tour Divide packlist. Feel free to reach out with any questions! Packlist Key: The list is divided up into the following sections: The Bike Sleep System Clothing Electronics Repair Kit Medical Kit Numbers in parentheses show the amount of an item that I brought Red text shows if I would change that specific piece of gear for future rides/races, and the reasons why The Bike: Type of gear:Specific items: Comments:Frame/WheelsWhy (Revel) El Jefe (single speed setup 34 x18), Stans Flow wheels w/ Industry 9 rear Hub/SON28 Dynamo HubLove this bike! It’s so light, responsive, and just straight up fun to ride. It descends like a champ, and somehow feels nimble while fully loaded. The gear ratio felt good, except for on flatter sections (the eternal complaint of every ss rider). I would likely go with 34 x 17/16 next time I do the TD.ForkFox 34 Stepcast, 120 mmFor the most part this fork did great. I never really questioned wanting to run a suspension fork. It was already installed on my bike, and I didn’t have any other option lying around. Plus, with a lingering wrist injury, I knew I wanted to mitigate all the impact on my hands/wrists that I could. Towards the end of the race, I did have some issues with the fork feeling creaky or loose, but I think this was from dust and grime getting into the stanchions. A few squirts of chain lube on the stanchions helped a lot. After getting the bike worked by a mechanic post-divide, the fork is running great again. Drivetrain1. Absolute Black Oval Chainring (34 tooth)2. Wolf Tooth rear aluminum cog (18 teeth)1. Oval is a game changer on the climbs, it gives you a lot more leverage. 2. This cog did fine, but I had issues breaking teeth on a previous version. I plan on switching to a steel cog for future rides. BrakesHope Tech 2 E4. 160 mm rotors in the front, 140 in the rear. Hope makes a truly bomber brake system. No complaints here. I had issues with these on my first CTR ride in 2021, but I had them worked on at Outpost Bike Shop in Richmond, and they were fantastic on the TD. Brought two sets of extra brake pads and never even used them. TiresVittoria Mezcals 2.25Another killer piece of my overall setup. These tires are super popular on the TD, and for a good reason. They grip well and roll fast. Zero issues with flats or low pressure. Handlebars/Grips1. Wolf Tooth Mega Fatpaw2. Cane Creek bar end grips3. SQ Labs 30x Carbon Handlebars, w/ 16 degree sweepAs previously mentioned, I have a lingering wrist pain from a recent injury, so I wanted to make sure I invested in my handlebar setup. 1. These grips did an excellent job of reducing vibration on bumpy roads and chunky descents. Very comfortable. 2. Total last minute addition to the handlebar setup, but thank god I added these! I did all the climbing while gripping onto these bar ends. They help create a great amount of leverage, which is especially important for SS riding. 3. I purchased these specifically for the TD, with the hopes that they would help reduce hand/wrist/back pain. The bars are carbon to reduce vibration and have a bit of flex to them. Additionally, they have a good ammount of rise/backsweep, placing you fairly upright while riding. I can’t say I had any major hand or back pain on the TD (despite the recent injury), and I think these bars played a big role in that. PedalsShimano XTR M9120 spd pedalsThese are my first clipless mountain bike pedals, and I really like them. It’s nice having the extra platform size, so that if you don’t clip in immediately, you can still get pedaling leverage. Saddle/Seatpost1. PNW Dropper2. Ergon SM Comp1. Never used the dropper, just didn’t want to have to re-install it. It held up fine.2. I’ve been using this saddle for years now. It works great for me. Bags1. Rockgeist- custom frame bag, top tube bag, waterproof roll top handlebar bag 2. Revelate Designs- handlebar harness, dropper compatible saddle bag, feedbags (2), jerrycan1. Rockgeist bags are the best. Big and roomy, and totally bomb proof.2. My Revelate bags are from my original bikepacking setup. They still work great. The only change in bags that I would make for the TD is to bring a bigger saddle bag. Since I didn’t use the dropper at all, I didn’t need the smaller size saddle bag. Next time, I would bring something in the range of a 10-12 liter bag. It just helps to have that extra room, and to not have to repeatedly struggle with closing an overstuffed bag. Water storage1. King cage front fork bottle mounts2. King Cage titanium downtube mount for 2L Nalgene3. Plastic bike bottles (3)2L 4. Salomon bladder (fits into the vest) 1. Had some issues with the bolts coming loose on these, but got it fixed at a bike ship in CO. 2. Having the extra water down below is great. 3. Might go with insulated/slightly larger bottles next time. On hot days, it’s so nice to add ice to the insulated bottles at a gas station if possible. 4. Only used this a few times (in the Basin and some parts of NM). I like having that back up ability to extend my overall water carrying capacity, even if it’s just for peace of mind. 2. Sleep System: Comments:TentZ Packs Plex Solo Tent, w/ titanium stakesLast minute purchase (found a good used deal on it on geartrade). This tent has a bit of a learning curve in terms of setting it up, but once you get the hang of it, this really is a very well designed piece of equipment. Doesn’t weigh much more than a bivy, and gives you all the benefits of a tent. That said, I would most likely bring a bivy next time. The bivy provides an ease and quickness of setup/takedown that’s hard to beat. When you’re exhausted after riding all day, trying to untangle guy lines and drive in stakes can be a huge pain. Once it’s set up, having the extra room of a tent is great, but I wasn’t exactly hanging out in my tent much. I would set it up, pass out immediately, and then pack it up asap in the morning. A bivy just makes that whole process quick and simple. Lastly, a bivy doesn’t require a camping spot where stakes can be driven into the ground. I couldn’t use this tarp tent on gravel, or pavement. A bivy (or a free standing tent for that matter) can be setup up discreetly absolutely anywhere. QuiltEnlightened Equipment Revelation Quilt (20 degree, wide/long)I’ve had this custom made quilt from EE for a few years now, and I love it. The hype is real for this brand. Making the transition from sleeping bag to quilt has drastically improved my sleep quality. As a restless sleeper, it helps to be able to toss and turn without falling off my sleeping pad. I went for bigger and warmer when I ordered this, and I don’t regret it (it was only a few extra ounces). There were plenty of cold nights on the TD, and it felt great to not have to worry about staying warm.PadTherm-a-Rest NeoAir XLite NXT (large)Keeps me comfortable on any type of terrain. The large version lets me stretch out, and toss and turn at night without falling off. Pillow1. Sea to summit aeros premium2. Big Agnes Q Core Deluxe 1. I liked the sea to summit pillow at first, but it wouldn’t stay inflated. I would wake up at night with a deflated pillow, and have to blow air back into it. 2. After about a week of that, I decided to just buy a new pillow when I was passing through Silverthorne CO. I opted for a large size Big Agnes, and I ended up loving it. Super comfy, and actually packs down fairly small. So yes… I ended up carrying two pillows on the TD. Definitely excessive. Clothing: Comments:Shirts1. PedalEd Odyssey Adventure Cargo Jersey2. Smartwool Merino 150 short sleeve shirt3. Smartwool 250 Merino long sleeve half-zip baselayer1. This was my first time wearing a jersey on a bikepacking trip. So many people rock jerseys on the TD, I figured I had to have one. So, I got this (very pricey) one from PedalEd. It’s a great jersey. Tons of pockets to stash things, and it’s nice to be able to zip down for increased airflow in the heat. . However, for my next trip/race I think I’ll probably just go back to a lightweight merino t-shirt. Can’t beat the simplicity and comfort of it. 2. I wore this a lot at night while sleeping. It’s a bit thicker than the 150 shirts, so I wouldn’t wear it in the heat. But if it was at all chilly this worked great. 3. This is my third purchase of this exact same half zip merino baselayer. I’ve brought one along on every bikepacking trip I’ve done. Does its job perfectly.Pants/Shorts1. Pearl Izumi Chamois2. Pearl Izumi Expedition Shell shorts3. GORE C5 GTX Paclite Trail Pants 1. Yes, only one pair. This wasn’t really that much of an issue to be honest, but I’d definitely bring two next time, for the sake of better hygiene. 2. These shorts stretched out around the waste to the point of being totally unwearable. After the first few days, their only function was to take up valuable space in my seat bag. I would definitely not use them again on any trip. 3. Awesome rain paints. This is my second pair. Didn’t use them much though since we didn’t have many heavy downpours out there. Gloves1. Giro DND mtb gloves2. REI merino liner gloves3. Outdoor Research waterproof shell gloves4. Showers Pass waterproof gloves 5. Outdoor Research StormTracker gloves (send home week 1)6. Generic waterproof/insulated hunting gloves (purchased in Montana to replace the OR gloves)This might look like a lot, but I think it’s super important to bring a wide variety of gloves. If your hands aren’t comfortable/warm, it can really hinder your riding (apparently one of the leaders this year quit in New Mexico because of numb hands).1. DND gloves are a must have for me, even though they always end up with holes. 2. Used these a ton. Merino liners are essential for me. I frequently wore them under the DND gloves, when the weather was slightly cold, but not freezing. 3. I lost one of the OR shell gloves early on, so didn’t get to use them much. But it was a good system while it lasted.4. Only used these a few times. 5. I thought I didn’t need the extra warmth. I was wrong. 6. These gloves rocked. Warmer and more waterproof than the OR gloves I sent home. Arm/leg warmers1. Rapha merino arm warmers2. Pearl Izumi knee warmers1. Used these a ton. Easy to take on and off (even while riding). More convenient than adding a whole extra shirt layer. 2. Barely used these. But I would bring them again just for piece of mind) Socks/Underwear1. Darn Tough heavy merino 2. Darn Tough lightweight merino 3. Smartwool light merino socks (high compression)4. Icebreaker merino briefs1-3. Three pairs is the sweet spot. Good to have a nice variety for differing conditions. I tried my best to keep one pair dry for sleeping. 4. For sleeping. ShoesPearl Izumi X-Alp ElevateGreat shoes. Pebbles do get in easily, and the BOA dial can get jammed. But they still shine as solid footwear for long days in the saddle and the inevitable hike a bike. Headwear1. Smartwool merino beanie 2. PedalEd cycling cap3. Outpost mesh camping hat4. POC Octal X helmet1. Essential. Fits under the helmet. Good for sleeping in. 2. With my visorless helmet, the cycling hat helps keep the sun out of my eyes. 3. I think every bikepacking trip there’s always one item that clearly should’ve been left at home and just ends up taking up space. This hat was that item. No reason to bring this. I love hats, but didn’t need this one. 4. Great helmet. Been using it for a few years now. Very lightweight and breathable. Jackets 1. Montbell Plasma 1000 down jacket2. Outdoor Research Helium rain jacket3. Patagonia synthetic down vest1. The plasma jacket is certainly pricey, but so worth it for its unbeatable pack size to warmth ratio. Used it frequently at night and in the morning. It will always come with me on trips. 2. I’m a big fan of this rain jacket. Packs down to small. I kept it in the top pocket of my vest, so it was easily accessible. I also used this as a windbreaker.3. This vest rocks! I rode with it a lot to take the chill off. However, I feel a little silly bringing a down jacket and vest. Might consider replacing this with a lighter/more packable layer such as a wind jacket. Other1. Outdoor Research merino buff (lost- replaced with regular buff). 2. Smith Ruckus sunglasses with photochromic lenses. 3.Salomon trail running hydration vest1. A good buff is essential. Regular (non merino) buff did fine. 2. Gotta have the photochromic lenses. Will bring an extra pair of totally clear lenses with me on my next trip (for night/evening riding).3. This has been a game changer for me, and will definitely come along on future bikepacking trips. It’s so versatile, and has a ton of easily accessible pockets. My only issue with wearing this would be that sometimes I would overpack it (with food usually), and I would definitely feel it in my back. But that’s more of a me issue, than a problem with the vest. Pack it light, and it’s totally worth it. Huge improvement over the Osprey backpack that I previously used. The vest sits higher up on your back, so its weight is less straining. I saw a lot of these on the TD, so it seems to be a lasting trend in the bikepacking/gravel world. 4. Electronics: Comments:Navigation/Tracking1. Garmin Edge 830 2. Garmin E-Trex 32x3. Spot Tracker Gen 1. I had issues with the Edge 830 being unable to load the necessary TD routes. It might’ve had something to do with not installing the latest update, but it was very frustrating to say the least. I’ve since upgraded to a different gps computer. More on that in another post. 2. I brought this simply as a backup unit, but was very glad that I did when the Edge wasn’t able to load the route. I used e-trex for navigation for the first week, but then the route file just ended (somewhere near the end of Montana). This is likely an issue with the file itself, or how I loaded it. But after that, I didn’t use the e-trex at all. I guess the lesson here is to double/triple check your gpx files and navigation functionality beforehand. 3. This spot tracker worked great for me. I’ve considered upgrading to the Garmin tracker, but I’ll probably just stick with the spot for the time being. It ran off the same two lithium batts all the way until New Mexico. Pretty impressive. Lighting1. K-Lite MTB kit w/ charger and Qube rear light2. Fenix BC26r bike light w/ extra battery3. Fenix HM65r headlamp w/ extra batteryMy lighting system was a source of significant frustration throughout this race, despite a great deal of planning on my part.1. The K-lite ended up flickering and eventually dying after the first week. After sending it back to the good folks at the Jefe Velo store, they concluded that there was an issue with the charging switch. The rubber had come off the switch, allowing water to get into the system. Matt at Jefe sent it back free of charge, with a repaired charging system. 2. Unfortunately, I also had issues with the Fenix BC26r bike light. The battery in the light simply would not hold a charge. After speaking with customer service at Fenix, and testing it on my own, I think the issue can be attributed to how I was charging the light. These bike lights are somewhat sensitive in terms of their optimal charging method. The nitecore USB-C external power banks may have been too high a voltage for the battery. A lower voltage (2 amps) would likely allow the light to work as intended. 3. The Fenix HM65r was the only light that I had zero issues with. It functioned flawlessly, holding a charge, and providing flood/spot light for a long duration of time. Honestly, it really saved me when the other two lights were completely failing. Charging1. (2) Nitecore NC 10000 USB-C power bank2. Anker USB-C/A three port charger, iphone USB-C charging cord, micro USB cord, USB-C cord, USB A-C cord, extra iphone charging block1. These nitecore batteries are excellent. They charge up quickly off the dynamo, provide an easy to read power indicator, and charge devices quickly. The only issue I had is with regards to charging the Fenix BC26r bike light (see above).2. Good to have a variety of cords and charging blocks, crucial for topping off devices in town. Phone1. iPhone 13, w/ lifeproof NEXT case (non waterproof) 2. iPhone rubberized holder for garmin mount 1. Phone did great. Kept it on low batt/airplane mode most of the time. No complaints on battery life. The newer iPhones are fairly water resistant, so I didn’t feel any need to get a fully waterproof case.T2. This was a small, inexpensive, and last-minute addition to my gear list. Yet, it proved to be such a crucial piece of gear. I think that having some way to securely mount your phone to your bike is critical. GPS units can’t do everything, and when they fail, the phone is your best back up. Whenever in doubt, I continually double checked the route with Gaia. Additionally, quickly finding/routing to places in town is often easier with google maps. Music1. Airpod Pros w/ waterproof case, 2. JBL Clip 3 speakerMusic has alway been a huge part of long distance biking for me. I don’t listen to it all day, but I’ll be the first to admit that I do depend on it at times. It helps me get into a rhythm, and gives me a source of inspiration/joy. I would alternate between the Airpods (usually just one in the right ear), and the speaker. Especially for long climbs, “audio doping” is the best. 5. Health Kit: Comments:Hygiene1. Toothbrush/toothpaste2. Biodegradable wet wipes for poops3. Some type of alcohol based wipe for cleaning chamois at night4. Some type of lotion for face/beard5. Phytocream/Shammy butterHygiene is so important. Gotta stay as clean as possible, especially “down there”. I’d wipe the shammies each night with the alcohol pads and let them air out. I did get saddle sores early on, but they eventually went away. I think bringing two shammies would have helped avoid that. Medical 1. iBuprofen2. Sunscreen3. Caffeine pills4. Antacids5. Emergency kit (kept in a small drybag, in the bottom of my seat bag)- bandaids, bandages, gauze, alcohol wipes, antihistamine pills. 1. Essential2. Essential. Needed a lot of it. 3. Tried not to depend on these, but considered them crucial to have on me by end of the trip. When the sleep monster creeps up, you need a quick fix.4. Heartburn became an issue for me. It makes sense, considering the amount of calories I was putting down, pretty much every hour. 5. Never touched any of this. Good to have though. I always stuff it at the bottom of my bag for any trip. Water Purification1. Aquamira water purification tabs2. Sawyer mini filter1. The majority of the water I consumed came from resupplies. Carrying about 4 liters on the bike usually meant I could make it to the next town. However, there were occasional situations where I had to purify water. I did this solely with purification tabs. I truly hate how long water filters take, and it usually means getting eaten alive by mosquitos while you wait for water to filter. The tabs did their job. Never got sick. 2. Never used. 6. Repair Kit: Comments:Tools1. Specialized mini hand pump 2. Crank brothers M19 multi tool3. Wolf tooth chain breaker tool4. Mini multi tool5. Chain lube- in eye dropper bottle6. Titanium tire levers 7. (2)Dynaplug racer tire repair kit8. Tire patch kit, w/ added thread and needle1. Used maybe twice. For the most part I left my tires alone, and they performed flawlessly. 2. Always comes on the bike with me3. Never used4. Came in handy a lot 5. Used a lot, not just on the chain6. Never used7. Never used8. Never usedSpare parts1. Spare Hope brake pads (2)2. Spare cleats3. Spare inner tube (29 x 2.2.5) (2)4. Small bottle of Stan’s sealantNever used any of it. Guess I got lucky out there. Tour Divide 2023 Trip Reports Uncategorized bikepackingtourdivide2023