Day 17: Riding through the dry, dusty desert in 40-degree heat with nothing as far as the eye can see. 100km In and still in the basin - pretty crazy experience riding the undulating planes with nothing but a rolling dirt road and no shade or water for 100s of kilometers in every direction. Eventually, we get to the highway and find a rest area where we can have snacks in a shaded area. 7:45pm, we set off again, heading towards Atlantic City (population 54) to find a camp spot as the sun set behind the hills giving off a warm glow. By far one of the most epic sunsets I've seen, orange and pink gradient sky and not a cloud in sight with a crescent moon overlooking the valley. We jump back onto the dirt road and off the highway. Suddenly, a pack of wild antelope starts running beside us, turning into a silhouette against the sky in the distance. Best evening ride yet as the sky went into complete darkness, and we rode under the Milky Way. In Times like this, you forget how hard the day was, and you remember why you're doing this.
Day 18: The second day riding back in the basin means another long hot day. This will be our last day in Wyoming before heading to Colorado tomorrow. Riding through the Great Basin was a truly tough day on the bike. Still feeling the wrath of my sickness, it was like swallowing knives every time I had a drink. The hot air and dust were a killer. Every time I opened my mouth to talk, nothing would come out. My voice had gone entirely, and I wanted the day to end. Carrying only 6 liters of water was less than ideal for a 10-hour ride through the desert. The heat made it taste like bath water. We decided not to stop and make lunch as we would have just baked in the sun, so we snacked our way through the day, hoping for something at the end. We had no idea what the next stop would give us, but we just hoped for a decent meal. It's a mental battle when all you can see is the gravel road you're riding along; go off into the distance, and all you have is your mind telling your legs to keep spinning for 10 hours straight. There was a 20km section of riding through sand, almost washing out on every little hill, 4:30pm, 115km in, and it's got to be the most challenging day I've ever had on a bike.
We came over the last brow after around 160km to see a petrol station sign in the distance; we looked at each other and smiled; we all got a sudden burst of energy and used it to get there as quickly as possible. Even better, as we got closer, we saw a Subway sign, finally got there, and ordered the largest meal on the menu; we drank a giant cup of ice-cold Fanta, which couldn't taste any better after drinking hot water all day. We found a motel across the street and treated ourselves to a bed and shower for the night. This wasn't the motel you would like to stay at either. The stale cigarette smell in the room overpowered the scent of us after four days of riding in the heat. There were stains on the bed sheets, and surrounding buildings were all boarded up. espite all this, we were too tired to even care. The boys brought in a 6 pack of beer, and we finally felt relaxed after two savage days of riding. We are all happy to never ride in the Wyoming basins ever again.
Do you have a website with any more info on the route? I'm definately going to take this on in 2024.
www.adventurecycling.org/routes-and-maps/adventure-cycling-route-network/great-divide-mountain-bike-route
And good overview here:
bikepacking.com/routes/great-divide-mountain-bike-route-gdmbr
My only quibble with the text is that there is no "Tiny run-down Mexican town" in New Mexico. There are plenty of tiny run-down towns in New Mexico, tho.
Dont worry, in a few years the stravadouches will have moved on to a new marketing hype term altogether.
The tire size and tread will be a tiny bit different, a different bend in the handlebar, a website will pop up with "Top 10 tips on ____biking, people will start working the new term unnaturally into conversations and bumper stickers, and all the look-at-me types will downvote you for pointing out the emperor has clothes, but theyre the same as always.
It's good to see some alternative content to the usual racing/performance stuff.
One question though - you're all on hardtails, carrying a shit-tonne of luggage. Would a pannier rack or two not have been a good idea?
Anyone who has spent time on a route like this knows there is a HUGE difference between averaging 70 miles a day and 100 miles on a day-in, day-out basis. Its also obvious as one begins reading the article that this group, with its (relatively speaking) lack of experience / preparedness was neither intending to, or capable of, a 100+ mile per day average. So the incongruous title and narrative sticks out like a sore thumb to experienced GDMBR riders.
Callum's explanation -- that Pinkbike inserts their own titles -- makes total sense. But the fact remains that the title implies a race-pace story while the story itself is a touring pace.
And for clarity, I'm not criticizing Callum's pace. Just highlighting the grossly inaccurate title that Pinkbike editors chose.
P.S. tl..dr...
Pretty cool stuff!