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Six Days and Nights – Stagecoach 400

June 7, 2017 By Advocate Cycles

Words and Photos by Cedar Kyes

The stagecoach is a roughly 400-mile collection of desert road, double and singletrack and enough pavement to keep you honest. It was co-created and organized by Brendan Collier of the Hub Cyclery in Idyllwild, California where the event begins and ends. The route was created with the idea of a multi-day adventure ride in mind and it takes riders through a diverse collection of southern California surroundings from vast desert, high mountains, coastal regions and a bit of urban. To ride the Stagecoach 400 is to experience all of the raw beauty that southern California has to offer.

Embarking on this ride was the beginning of something way bigger than I had ever imagined and luckily, the start of the Stagecoach 400 was as informal as I had hoped it would be. While most people do treat this event as a race or ITT (Individual Time Trial), I was treating it more like a long bike ride with one of my good buddies, Brendan.

I was content to watch the crowd gather and cheer them on as they departed in a kind of bikepacking critical mass that rolled out of town and down the highway towards the first long climb of the route. That climb would ultimately put a huge amount of distance between myself and the rest of the pack. Having embarked on this journey with literally zero training—and couch legs that had barely seen any physical activities all winter long—I was in no hurry to get the suffering started. I instinctively knew that I needed to ease into this ride if I wanted to have any chance of finishing.

After the initial warm-up and shakedown of my bike and my body, I was starting to find my pace and trust these wagon wheels. Having just built this fresh Advocate Cycles Hayduke with 29” wheels for the long journey ahead and having never ridden a 29’er before, there was a slight learning curve for me. After the first long descent, I was feeling comfortable enough to let it rip. The decision to build the bike as a 29’er would definitely pay off over the course of the ride for me—I don’t think I had the fitness to push a fully loaded plus-sized bike the entire distance of this route.

Since I had fallen way off the back of the pack on the second long climb of the day, I took this opportunity to take a look back at where I had come from earlier that morning—this was the last time I would see the snowy peaks of the Idyllwild area for quite awhile.

Eventually, after a long morning out back, I met up with my crew again. Brendan had a mechanical malfunction right at the start of the ride, which set him back a little bit. That delay gave me the head start I needed to get my legs and lungs working well enough to try and keep up with him for a few days.

Brendan and a few others caught up to me just in time to pull me along towards Sunshine Market with the promise of cold beer and sandwiches. I was happy to see them and even happier to crack that beer, which would be the fuel I needed to keep on the wheels of this steady paced crew for the rest of the day and into the night. We would ultimately end up pushing on into the late night hours and pitching camp in a cow pasture somewhere deep in the SoCal Countryside.

Morning came far too quickly and we needed to get back in the saddle in order to reach our destination for the day. Part way through the morning, we stopped at an old abandoned country store to soak up the morning vibes and ease into our day. While the others enjoyed their lightweight snacks, the genius of my morning coffee ritual became clear to the crew. I brewed a few cups and distributed with egalitarian generosity. I got the impression that most of the Stagecoachers don’t bother with a stove or coffee on this route. I’m not sure what would possess anyone to embark upon such a journey without and it sure did make this morning more enjoyable for us all.

Dropping into Black Canyon after our stop, the super green countryside funneled into the canyon and sent us spiraling down into a lush gorge filled with wildflowers and water flowing through huge boulders in the creek beside us. With all of the rain that California received throughout the winter, there were tons of crossings and streams where people had rarely seen water flowing before. Unfortunately, the fun would come to a screeching halt for me. After making a ridiculous navigation error and succumbing to a serious lapse of reason, I was left hopelessly chasing the crew for the rest of the day.

After losing a couple hours to some sort of physical breakdown, I finally came back to the world of the living and crawled out from under the bushes where I had lost consciousness trying to rehydrate myself in the shade. I’m pretty sure my body shut itself down in some sort of physiological self-preservation fit of revolt. I’m not really sure how long I was out for but I eventually came to the realization that it was a bit cooler and there was more shade to be found now. I pulled myself together and pushed on. Later I would find texts from Brendan that kept me motivated to catch up to the crew again. “You’re not that far back” and “We’re at Pizza Port in Ocean Beach” were the words that kept me going. Thoughts of cold beer and warm pizza were coursing through my numbed mind. So, onwards I charged towards the ocean.

At another water crossing, I came across a woman on horseback with her dog roaming nearby. The horse was taking a drink from the stream—I waited patiently for them to clear the crossing. I must’ve looked like I had just died and been reborn because this woman was genuinely concerned about my well-being. She asked where I was going. “To the beach” is all I could muster. She asked if I lived there or had a car waiting there. “No, neither of those” is what made it out of my mouth. She proceeded to question me about what I was doing there. I was able to articulate the basics about riding from Idyllwild to San Diego and back to Idyllwild and that I was trying to catch up to my friends who were already in San Diego. She offered me a ride to meet back up with them and said she would drop me off a few blocks away so nobody would ever know. I was tempted but I told her that I had to do this on my own. She then offered to say a prayer for me—I gladly accepted. It was a very nice prayer—warm and genuine—and I felt that she fully believed in its power. I thanked her and jokingly said, “I hope that helps me climb up this steep hill ahead.” She knew that it would. Thank you stranger! I thought of how nice that gesture was when I got my first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean.

Just as the sun was setting on the second day of my Stagecoach 400 ride I made it to Torrey Pines State Park. Even though I was in a bit of a hurry to catch up with my crew, I stopped for a moment to soak it all in. This was in itself a huge accomplishment for me. I had just ridden from way up in the Mountains of Idyllwild all the way to the Pacific Ocean—in two days. I met up with the crew in San Diego and we spent the night at a friend’s house in the city.

Exiting San Diego and heading back into the mountains, Day 3 would prove to be the most challenging of the entire ride. I struggled to keep up with the pack for the entire day and fell off the back on every climb. After the last re-group at a gas station in Alpine, I, decided that I needed to fall back and ride at my own pace if I wanted to finish. It was not a pretty moment for me—not until I finally got out of my head, listened to my body, and looked up at the beauty all around.

I was literally one click or call away from the wambulance when I realized that there was no rush and I could just soak it all in and finish the ride on my own pace. I also realized that I was just past the point of no return and it would be harder to bail out than it would be to continue forward. So, I sat there for a while and got my head straight. I watched the sun set and felt it cool down considerably. I had great lights and lots of battery power left and decided that I needed to ride more in the evening hours when it was cooler. This was a critical epiphany for me and I continued the relentless climb into the darkening night.

I coached myself through the next few miles of the route and, reading through the cue cards, learned that there was a restaurant and country store on the other side of this climb—giving me inspiration to push on. I made it up and over that mountain and on to the restaurant but it had just closed. Luckily, the store was still open so I grabbed a cold beer and a bag of chips. I found a nice little spot in the middle of a grassy field and I sat there under the stars, sipping my beer and savoring each and every salty chip.

I was uncertain about the next move. The cue cards alluded to the notion that there was another store at the campgrounds a few miles further along the route. “She makes great burritos for the Stagecoach riders” it said, which was the motivation I needed to push on into the late night hours. It was a sluggish uphill push on muddy trail but it was very peaceful.

When I rolled into the campgrounds I found a spot to throw down my sleeping bag and the nearby stream serenaded me to sleep. I slept like a baby all night and well into the morning. I took my time packing up and wandered over to the store. It was closed. As it turns out, most of the stores on the rest of the route are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. I was able to refill all of my water and headed out for day 4.

This day featured a relentless climb up and over Mt Laguna. There was little to no shade and the temperatures were rising by the minute. Thankfully, the trails were pretty awesome and the views were amazing. I took my time and listened to my body—seeking refuge in every bit of shade that I encountered and being mindful of my hydration and nutrition, I chugged along all day. I was enjoying myself again. Even though it was slow going, I was happy to be making forward progress and I knew that this mountain had a summit—somewhere up there. I did not see or hear a single soul for the entirety of the climb. It was almost surreal how much solitude this stretch provided. Finally, I had gotten out of Babylon and into the Backcountry—this is what I truly enjoy and appreciate about bikepacking.

As I reached the summit of Mt Laguna and popped out onto the highway, I was blown away by the amazing view. I could see the Salton Sea way off in the distance and the snowy Tahquitz Peak/Mt San Jacinto way back up in the mountains where I had started the ride. The experience was enhanced from ten to eleven when I dropped in on the awesome singletrack that parallels the highway for most of this stretch. I forgot all about the long day of climbing and just ripped sweet singletrack for what seemed like an eternity. In fact, it was so good that I missed my turn and continued on the trail for quite a ways before I realized that I should be pointed in the opposite direction for my descent into the desert and to make it to the next store, which was supposed to be open until 6. This would be a critical re-supply before heading off into the most serious desert section—I was determined to make it to that store.

I knew that it would be a serious downhill into the desert from here. Once I was certain that I was dropping in on the right track, I let it all out. I’m not sure many people have gone as fast on a fully loaded bikepacking rig. It didn’t stop. I smashed through rocks and drifted into corners and in retrospect, it was downright foolish—I was determined to make it to that store in time.

The shreddy downhill gave way to a sluggish sand trap and my roll was slowed tremendously. I somehow managed to keep afloat in the sand and rolled it all the way out to the pavement where I put the hammer down and made it to the store with minutes to spare. It was closed—spring hours.

Welcome to my desert oasis. While it was indeed true that the store was closed, I did find what I needed to continue on my journey. There was a sign on the door that said to track down Doug for after hours registration. I wandered over to Doug’s place and knocked on the door. Nothing. As I was walking back to my bike and kicking rocks, I saw a guy headed in the same general direction as me and I called out “Hey there, are you Doug?” No. It was not Doug. “Doug is off today. It really pisses me off when he closes the store.” Meet my new friend Alber—Alber is the ranch hand at Butterfield. He’s on a mission of some sort. Thankfully for me, he just happened to be right there at that exact moment. He was genuinely concerned for me and he understood that I really needed to get into that store before I could proceed into the desert. He said he would try to get the keys from Doug and open the store for me in the morning.

As I sat there in front of the closed store, I was optimistic that this would all turn out alright. Soon after, Alber came over with an apple, banana, and orange and his two young daughters running along beside him. They had each made me a sandwich and wanted to bring them to me personally—I almost cried. I could not believe the genuine kindness of this family. I went from complete deflation to complete gratitude and full nourishment of body, soul, and spirit. Those little angels shined so bright—It was truly amazing. Thank you Alber and your wonderful daughters.

He told me about the cabins and the pool and the hot shower—I was indeed in heaven. That night I had a shower and slept in a bunk bed—It was a good thing too because the wind kicked up and was howling all night long. As I was cozy inside my little cabin eating homemade sandwiches, I couldn’t help but think about the prayer that I had been granted earlier in the ride. However you want to look at it, The Universe was shining down on me.

In the morning I made coffee by the poolside and by some other stroke of luck, I ran into Alber at the store before he took off on his work day. He let me in and I got what I thought I needed to carry me through the next stretch—I was good to go.

Welcome to the desert. Massive ocotillos were like gateway guardians to the Anza-Borrego Desert and they were in full bloom as I passed through. I gave a nod of respect to each and every one of them on my passage. They seemed to return the gesture as they provided me with little bits of shade where otherwise there was none to be found. Dropping into Diablo Drop and the Wind Caves was impressive and a little bit spooky—this is definitely where the Sand People live and I did not linger long.

Back to the pavement—with minimal shade and nothing but an endless row of power lines stretching off into the horizon, it was best not to think about it too much. I put my head down and focused on cadence. It wasn’t until I got to the next store that I even looked up—it was closed. The bar across the street was open and I bellied up to the bar for a cold beer.

Here I ran into a fellow Stagecoacher who had also wandered off on a solo mission. We shared some stories and helped each other feel not-so-out-of-place in this strange desert watering hole. As I walked outside to check on my bike, I noticed that a distinct change in the weather had occurred—then came the chatter from the locals about rain coming and that we were screwed. I slammed my beer, settled up, and saddled up. There was a strong and sustained headwind for the next 20 miles or so as we struggled our way towards Borrego Springs. We rolled into town just after dark and hit up the Taco Shop before heading out of town to find a spot to hunker down for the night.

I had known about the sculpture gardens around Borrego Springs and I wanted to see them in the daylight so I steered us to this spot just outside of town for the night. It was one of the best nights of sleep on the whole trip. We were out of the wind and the sky was booming with stars. Knowing that I had a big day ahead, it was a very quick and unceremonious morning at the sculptures before the two of us took off.

Making it to Bailey’s Cabin was a milestone for me. I had ridden this stretch once before but we were coming down the canyon and it was all downhill that time. I remembered the “Willows” section of Coyote Canyon and I was a bit nervous about getting through there. The last time I passed through it was so overgrown that it felt like we were trudging through the jungle. Thankfully, it was cut way back and our passage through was easy. That did not help the fact that we were headed uphill through the canyon. It was so sandy that I had to walk for long stretches.

Finally reaching the road at the entrance to Coyote Canyon was a great feeling. Despite the fact that I knew I was in store for a really long climb, it was good to be standing on solid ground again. The climb was every bit as long and strenuous as I had imagined and I pushed onward with a great sense of accomplishment that I had come this far.

It was only fitting that I finished the Stagecoach 400 at night since I had ridden so much of it this way. The night was definitely my friend on this journey. Thankfully, I had the best lighting system you could ask for. My Lupine Lights system worked flawlessly for 6 days and 6 nights of riding while also keeping my phone and my camera charged the entire time.

I got back to Idyllwild just hours before this snowstorm hit—I had seen the system moving in and I cranked up the pace on the final day so that I might beat it. I pushed hard from Borrego Springs all the way into Idyllwild and made it in time to get a cold beer and some warm stew at Idyllwild Brewery.

Many thanks to them for finding me some hot food even though the kitchen was closed when I rolled in. Another huge thanks to Marlin and Dawne for the hot shower and cozy bed to crash in. It was a wonderful way to finish an incredible journey. Last but not least, thank you to Brendan for putting together such an amazing bikepacking route through some of the most remote and untouched places in Southern California. It’s definitely the best way to experience the diversity that SoCal has to offer and thanks for pulling me along as far as you did. I don’t think I would’ve made it without your support and encouragement.

I also couldn’t have done it without the support of my awesome girlfriend who was holding down the fort and taking care of Bushido while I was gone. I look forward to doing this ride again—I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone and I tested every bit of strength that I could muster. It was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

A huge thanks for support from Advocate Cycles, Kali Protectives, Lupine Lights, Terrene Tires, Tifosi Optics & Zoic Clothing.

Until next time…

Creating the Baja Divide

January 2, 2017 By Advocate Cycles

The Baja Divide is a rugged 1,700 mile off-pavement bikepacking route down the length of the Baja California peninsula, from San Diego, CA, USA to San Jose del Cabo, BCS, MX, researched and developed by Nicholas Carman and Lael Wilcox in the winter and spring of 2015-16.

This route connects the Pacific Ocean and the Sea of Cortez, historic Spanish mission sites rich with shade and water, remote ranchos and fishing villages, bustling highway towns, and every major mountain range in Baja California on miles and miles of beautiful backcountry desert tracks.

January 2, 2017 marks the Baja Divide group start in San Diego, CA. Prior to this event, we caught up with Nicholas Carman to talk about the process and motivation behind the creation of the route.

The Baja Divide route that you and Lael have created is an incredible resource. What gave you the idea to develop this route?

The idea to publish a route occurred to us while riding in Baja last winter. We crossed the border in early December 2015 hoping to enjoy some fun backcountry tracks and long night of sleep in the desert. Lael and I had ridden in Baja in 2011, on more conventional touring bikes, and with the few off-pavement rides we enjoyed on that trip we knew we needed to come back with more capable bikes. I was already riding 29×2.5” tires, and Lael started the trip on a brand new Advocate Cycles Hayduke with 27.5×3.0” tires. We weren’t sure about the 27.5+ concept at the time. After some years riding fatbikes, Lael was averse to pedaling unnecessarily large tires outside of their useful range, but the 3.0” wide tires on wide rims—tubeless—proved to be the perfect bike for most of the terrain we encountered.

Within about two weeks, after some fortuitous routing connections, it seemed obvious that there was something we needed to create, and to share. I was well aware of the potential that Baja offered—including the riding, the culture, and the climate—and I was also sure that there was far too little information available about backcountry cycling in Baja. There are lots of forums and GPX tracks dedicated to moto routing, but that doesn’t always translate directly to good bike routing. So, over the next three months, with help from a few friends, Lael and I rode all over the place to connect a massive off-pavement resource.

We’re really proud of the final product. The route uses about 93-95% off-pavement routing, and almost all of the pavement is on smaller secondary roads in Baja, which feature very little traffic. The riding is engaging, challenging, but almost entirely rideable. Resupply is found along the route frequently enough to make the route accessible, and the information we provide lowers the stress of guessing where to find food and water. I think the basic guides we have provided will help people get on the route and into the backcountry, although there are still many discoveries to be made on route.

Was it always your intention to create this free resource for everyone?

The resource was always meant to be free, and digital publishing makes the most sense. Most of all we wanted to encourage as many people as possible to discover international backcountry bicycle travel—that’s where the world really comes alive! I often say that our goal is to “put more butts on bikes”, and in this case we’ve succeeded. By making the resource freely available we’re limiting the number of barriers for others to do what we do. I’ve heard all the excuses over the years. So we went down to Mexico with our own money and time and made a route for others to use, and the resource is one less excuse.

Once the route project was underway, we looked around for some help to cover a few basic expenses. We didn’t have to look far, as Advocate Cycles and Revelate Designs each committed some money to cover airfare for three riders from last season, and a few other expenses associated with the women’s scholarship and the group start. As such, it isn’t a business because none of us are making money, but the support of these companies is what helps us offer the resource for free. I’ve often thought that the companies asking for our money should support the things that we love, and the things that make this sport possible. Advocate explicitly does that by supporting ACA, IMBA, People for Bikes, and the Baja Divide. Revelate has been a grassroots supporter of a lot of adventurers and racers over the years, and we’ve known Eric since we bought our first framebags from him out of his garage in early 2012 in Anchorage, AK.

What gave you the idea to organize the group start on the route? Do you think that this group start/group ride structure could take the place of races for this niche within the cycling community?

The group start on January 2, 2017 was conceived last winter when we first published the route concept to our freshly minted www.bajadivide.com website from a hostel in La Paz.

We had talked about the idea for a couple of weeks and were already planning to publish a route, but nobody knew about it yet. And then, with a spare day, I pieced together a basic WordPress.com site and announced the route project. In support of the route project, we suggested a group start from San Diego on the morning of Jan 2, 2017 as a way to encourage people onto the route in the first season, and to provide a unique social opportunity for the bikepacking community. The route concept and the group start were an immediate success. People stated their interest immediately and eight months before the first riders were even on the route, the concept had a strong following. Through the spring and summer of 2016, it was our job to deliver on our promise and we finally published the route the week before Interbike while taking a couple of rest days from the Colorado Trail in Salida, CO.

For many years I’d read in the pages of Bicycle Quarterly about the springtime Pâque-en-Provence meetings that Vélocio and the cycletouring clubs in France would organize. The Bikecentennial of 1976 is also a hugely influential event in American cycletouring, and Lael and I consider it proof of what a small group of people are capable of accomplishing. We were fortunate to meet Greg and June Siple and Dan Burden this summer at the Montana Bicycle Celebration, who are largely responsible for the modern cycletouring movement in the USA.

At the moment there are few bicycle travel gatherings in this country—excepting bikepacking races, organized for-profit tours, and group rides like RAGBRAI or TOSRV—so we went forward with the concept and organized a social group start. In retrospect, I’m not sure we needed the group ride to bring attention to the route, as the response to the Baja Divide has greatly exceeded our expectations. The group start has required a lot of extra work, but it is a novel project and I’m excited to experience this “experiment in living”. I also hope that the group will make a clear statement to communities on the route that our presence has the potential for a positive economic impact. We welcome new businesses and services along the route that provide the kinds of support that cyclists need.

Last spring, I would have been excited to think that a couple dozen people would ride the route this first season. Now, I expect the there will be over 200 people on route this season.

I see a lot of participation in bikepacking races that could easily be redirected to non-competitive events. Also, the success of other group rides concepts including local group events, charity rides, and long-distance group rides are proof that people like riding together. Still, the core of bike travel will always be individual adventures. Most cycletourists and bikepackers are traveling alone or in pairs.

The Baja Divide group start is meant to be a one-time event. It has been a lot of work. The things we want to inspire most are individual adventures. These may be solo or with a partner or some friends, but we would love to see people conceive and design to their own rides based upon the resources we’ve provided.

What aspect of this resource was the most difficult to create? Are there parts of your resource that you wish were available on other routes you have done in the past?

On the ground route research was the most challenging. It required over three months of riding and a lot of time looking at maps and talking to locals. The riding included two rides down the peninsula and a lot of dead ends, but also a lot of successes.

The main published resources include the GPX track, a folder of GPX points representing resupply points and other resources, a simple two-page distance and resupply chart, and a condensed version of the section narratives found on the site. It’s pretty low-tech stuff, but in total it makes a powerful, portable, and low-cost resource.

However, the resources are more accessible and more complete than is available for many other routes. Most routes don’t provide the digital section narratives that we’ve included—those are either included in a printed guidebook or not at all. Digital publishing allows me to update the resource as soon as needed to reflect changes along the route.

Would you personally rather ride an unmapped route as you originally did on the Baja Divide, or follow an established route?

I enjoy both methods of route exploration, and having a mapped resource does not diminish the potential for adventure. In particular, I like established routes because they ensure that you have a connected and mostly rideable resource, although the experiences you have along the way are still very unpredictable. Plus, there’s more to it than the riding. Riding is literally the vehicle to experiencing other parts of travel, when you meet people, encounter weather, and luck upon serendipitous moments that are unique to your experience, like being invited into people’s homes.

Lael and I have enjoyed lots of mapped routes and the Baja Divide is influenced by our experience on the Holyland Challenge in Israel, the Dragon’s Spine Route in South Africa, the 1000 Miles Adventure in Czech and Slovakia, the Top Trail 3 in Montenegro, the GR5 in Holland and Belgium, the Bike Odyssey in Greece, and the Traversee du Massif Vosgien in France. Of course, the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, the Colorado Trail, and the Arizona Trail are major influences here in the USA.

I do love making new routes while traveling, but doing that day after day takes a lot of effort, especially as part of a longer trip. For that reason, I’m expecting a lot of riders that are trekking from Alaska to Argentina with an interest in off-pavement routing will appreciate the Baja Divide. For about two months, they can take their focus away from daily route design and focus more on the place and the people, and of course the riding should keep their interest as well. There is a lot of engaging riding on the Baja Divide. There have already been three couples that have ridden the Baja Divide as part of much longer journeys.

Even when lots of resources are provided (i.e. information), none of this stuff comes easy. It still takes a lot of work to ride a route like the Baja Divide.

You spent the majority of last winter down in Baja and will be doing that again this year. What is it about this place that you enjoy so much?

We enjoy the climate during the winter months, the vast and powerful landscapes, the cerulean Sea of Cortez, tacos and ceviche, and the people. Our experiences in Baja have always been relaxed and restful, even when paired with strenuous riding days. Big starry nights are one of the best parts of traveling in Baja.

Will the Baja Divide ever be an event like the Tour Divide or do you hope that it will stay a bit more casual?

The Baja Divide group start is not a race. There is no losing in bicycle touring, and I’m hoping that with the resources provided and with encouragement from the bikepacking community, we can achieve a relative success rate as near to 100% as possible. That means, a person sets out for an adventure, they do some riding, and they stick with it even if they have to modify their plans. They go home a changed person, happy, successful, and full of pride. You actually can’t fail at bicycle touring, unless you stay home.

Lael’s Globe of Adventure Women’s Scholarship, the first of it’s kind for women and for bikepacking is a very great idea and it’s very refreshing to see you both create this scholarship. Do you think this is something that will catch on and do you hope to continue this idea in the future?

We hope to offer the scholarship again next year.

We received two hundred amazing applicants and selected a really inspiring young woman named Lavanya Pant, who will be riding an Advocate Cycles Seldom Seen starting on February 14. Influenced in part by the women’s scholarship, I estimate that the percentage of women on route this season is higher than on any other off-pavement bike route in the world, and I expect that trend to continue on the Baja Divide.

Another year, another ride down Baja. What do you look forward to most on adventures like this?

On this particular trip, I’m looking forward to riding the route like anyone else, one pedal stroke after another. I love the linear perspective of long routes likes this, and the feeling of knowing where I am going is calming. Ride, camp, resupply, repeat.

View the Baja Divide route resource online at BajaDivide.com.

Colorado Trail - Lessons Learned

October 17, 2016 By Ryan Krueger

Words and Photos by Eric Hockman

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity.”

-John Muir

There’s something very exciting about turning on your out of office reply that signifies the beginning of your time away from the daily grind. Whether you are jumping on an airplane to fly somewhere half-way around the globe or keeping it local with a stay-cation, it’s important to take time off and put yourself in new places to experience the out of ordinary.

It may sound crazy to most to call a physically and mentally demanding journey across multiple ranges of high altitude mountains a vacation, but to me, it’s just about the best way I can imagine to spend my time off. Luckily, my fiancé shares this feeling, and so we go as a pair. For us, the best growth we see as individuals and together is gained by taking ourselves away from our typical routine and overcoming the challenges we face on our adventures.

In the early spring months of 2016, we made the decision to thru-bike the Colorado Trail together over the course of two weeks. The challenge of it all was bigger than either of us had ever faced, but we knew it was exactly how we’d want to cash in on our time off from work. The end result was unwritten at this point and the logistical spider web grew each day as we started looking into how we wanted to take this massive challenge on.

The Route:

Consisting of a mixture of mostly single track, a fair amount of dirt forest service roads, and a small stint of paved mountain highways, the Colorado Trail stretches 539 miles between Durango and Denver, CO. While the trail remains predominantly above the 10,000 ft. elevation mark, there is over 70,000 ft of ascending and descending to really satiate your appetite for challenge and reward.

The CT is not a directional trail; however, most travellers typically start their journey in Waterton Canyon, near Denver and work their way into the most rugged terrain towards the latter half of the journey. The decision for us to ride the trail from Durango to Denver came out of wanting to ride back towards our home, rather than away from it. And so we did.

Let the journey begin.

A few things we learned on the Colorado Trail:

You don’t know until you go: Photos do not do this trail much justice when it comes down to it. Both majestically or for predicting the ability to ride certain sections that appear buttery smooth and flowy. What appears in images definitely inspires the soul, but there are many sections that must be pushed and cannot be easily flowed on two wheels. It’s best to accept that some things cannot be ridden and that time spent off the bike is great for taking in the views.

A loud freehub or bell can save you: Some may side with the opinion that a loud freehub is disruptive to other trail users or the serenity of being out in the backcountry; however, our loud free wheeling bikes managed to alert a momma moose with her two calves and alert a distant bull moose in the willows. A few follow up rings of the bell on your handlebars also alerts wildlife that you’re in their zone. Having a bell on your bike is also a great way to alert other trail users when you’re gassed and can’t muster any words to let them know you’re there.

Marmots are always looking for handouts: I sort of already knew marmots were pesky little creatures, but after meeting our friend Bruce about 3 days into the trip, we quickly realized you should never let your guard down when food is around. Bruce may have never successfully gotten close enough to our breakfast to snag a bite, but he sure did try… more than once.

Instant coffee and oatmeal can be really good tasting: Our first breakfast each day consisted of oatmeal and coffee. Adding dried fruit or broken up chocolate chip cookies to your oatmeal is a game changer and keeps things interesting. After you’ve devoured breakfast, mixing a packet of instant coffee in your camp mug both tastes great and leaves your cup or bowl nearly spotless.

You learn a lot about your travel partner: A trip of this length and challenge brings a lot of perspective to your life. There are times of struggle and times of triumph, moments of being slap-happy and hangry all at the same time. Needless to say, if you travel with a friend or significant other, you’re going to see the best and worst of them. Take it all for what it is, just don’t forget to give yourself the time you need to reflect as each day passes. Most importantly, enjoy the journey.

You meet a lot of really cool people from all over: Every interaction out on the trail is different. We spoke with hikers from all over the US and the globe, saw an older couple travelling with some llamas to carry their weight, and passed opposite directions with bikers racing the CTR from Denver to Durango. In the end, we had a lot of positive interactions and actually finished the trail having made a new friend on the side of the road near Leadville. No, it wasn’t one of the llamas.

Montana Bicycle Celebration

August 18, 2016 By Odia Wood-Krueger

It seems fitting that the Adventure Cycling Association’s (ACA) Montana Bicycle Celebration kicked off with a presentation about a new route compiled by a bike travel enthusiast couple; surrounded by a full-house, Advocate Cycles ambassadors Lael Wilcox and Nicholas Carman shared photos and hopes for the inaugural Baja Divide ride to begin in January 2017.

If you didn’t already know, the ACA was founded by two cycling passionate couples—Greg and June Siple and Dan and Lys Burden. Whilst participating in a ride from Anchorage to Tierra del Fuego, they schemed that the best way to recognize America’s bicentennial might just be from the seat of a bicycle.

As someone relatively new to the bike industry, I was surprised to see things go full circle; with the somewhat recent inception of bikepacking and the increased participation in long distance races, one would think that this phenomenon is new. It’s not. Attending this celebration cleared up any misconceptions I had that bicycle travel (and those who love it) is something my generation can claim.

Sure enough, at Friday night’s reception, surrounded by reunited ‘76ers, guests had the opportunity to enjoy the video that was made during the Bikecentennial. Cue tinny music, ragtag participants, and cobbled together bikes. And with that, it occurred to me…THESE ARE MY PEOPLE. Passionate, quirky, never say die folks—and they did it—over 4000 participants rode some part of the Trans-America route that summer.

76BicycleWheel — The human spokes in the wheel that became the Adventure Cycling Association.

Among a variety of speakers that night, it was Greg Siple’s speech that resonated best with me; he relied on a series of ‘what-if’s to make his point about how precarious the whole endeavor was, as if one failed opportunity would have put the kibosh on the entire event. In a similar vein, I could say, “What if you weren’t reading this right now? What if you didn’t understand Advocate Cycles and support our mission? What if you didn’t sign on to be a dealer?” Greg spoke of the incredulity others presented when he shared his vision of Bikecentennial; there will always be naysayers who tell you how you can’t be successful or why your plan won’t come to fruition.

It’s natural to draw parallels between the work ACA does and what Advocate Cycles aims to do. Surrounded by this crew of folks made me think of all of you—dedicated shop owners and employees who believe so strongly about cycling, its impact on society, and the possibility that by simply riding your bike you make the world a better place.

It’s with that shared vision we created and launched two custom versions of our upcoming new models focusing on bicycle travel—Seldom Seen and Sand County—that will be auctioned this fall as a fundraiser for the ACA. (Look for details about the auction on our webpage in September.)

20160715_113128 — Custom models of Seldom Seen and Sand County in front of the ACA office in Missoula, Montana.

We’re excited to offer the stock versions of these new bikes for delivery in November. As with all our models, customers vote for which non-profit organization they hope will benefit from the purchase of their frame/bike. Through this voting process, we learned that folks vote overwhelmingly to support the Adventure Cycling Association!

Throughout the Montana Bicycle Festival, we witnessed the community building and grassroots organizing the ACA is known for—meals, bike demos, trail opening ceremonies, activities for children, and storytelling, shared with participants who pedaled many miles to partake. We are honored to be a partner of this organization and confident that the support they’ve earned from you and your customers is never taken for granted.

And while it is comforting to see that an idea as bold as the Adventure Cycling Association was able to last, thanks to passionate founders and an ever-growing group of like-minded enthusiasts that gathered around them, it is even more comforting to see that cycling advocacy and the community of cycling as a whole is as strong as ever, and shows no signs of slowing down.

20160717_144018 (1) — Jim Sayer (left), Executive Director of the ACA, with Advocate Cycles founders Tim and Odia Krueger.

Brews for Bikes - World Bicycle Relief

June 23, 2016 By Ryan Krueger

Words and photos by Eric Hockman

As another 365 days pass and the age counter rolls another digit, it seems that each year tends to gain more momentum than the previous, causing time to blur by much like the trees that line my favorite sections of single track. It was right around four years ago that the dream to host an event for World Bicycle Relief (WBR) started swirling around in my mind. Back then it was just a distant but hopeful idea, so it’s hard to believe we just finished hosting year two of this very positive and extremely entertaining event. If you missed Brews for Bikes (B4B) last year at Mountain Toad Brewing in Golden, Colorado, you can read about the project on Pinkbike here. If you missed Brews for Bikes this year, well, where were you?

The overall vision and goal of WBR is to put bicycles in the hands of residents in African villages and cities to improve their quality of life in many ways. A bicycle to someone in Africa means that they can gain a better education, transport goods for small businesses and families more efficiently, and improve their chances of living a happier and healthier life.

For the second year running, my good friend Muhammad attended the event to enjoy all of the positive energy that comes along with it. Roughly seven years ago, he was granted amnesty to leave his refugee camp in Darfur, Sudan and bring his family to America to live a better and undoubtedly safer life. A few years later the two of us crossed paths as fellow mechanics at a shop in Seattle, WA, where I soon realized I needed to revisit my plan to send bikes to help people like him. As an immigrant and now resident of the United States he serves as a constant reminder that it is greatly important to continue helping others whenever possible. While speaking to those attending the event, he so eloquently noted that “Giving a person a bicycle in Africa is much like giving someone in America a very high-end car.” Much more can be accomplished when a person is mobilized via a form of reliable transportation.

This year we teamed up with many of the same contributors that were involved with the previous years project, but the most notable change in direction was the style of bike as well as the manufacturer. For B4B v2.0 the frame and fork were provided by Advocate Cycles; a company dedicated to sharing 100% of their profits with advocacy groups throughout the cycling community, so it seemed only fitting to join forces with them. The Lorax frame that we used to build this years custom Advocate/Buffalo collaboration arrived with a beautiful shade of pearlescent green paint and without it’s typical factory graphics. This blank canvas gave us the opportunity to lay down another set of customized graphics to mirror the Buffalo bikes that are sent to the field in Africa. Gaining help from friends throughout the cycling industry and local community is what makes this project thrive, and truly shows how big of a family the cycling community can be.

In it’s first iteration, Brews for Bikes was able to generate enough charitable contributions to send roughly 27 bikes to people in various parts of Africa. In it’s second year, the event did not produce quite as many bikes to send to Africa; however, the positive energy, education about WBR’s scope, and the nearly 20 bikes that will be sent to those in need was certainly a win to all that were involved.

Many thanks for everyone involved with the project:
- Advocate Cycles for the donation of a beautiful Lorax frame and fork,
- Victory Circle Graphix for the sharp custom graphics,
- Shimano for a sleek 105, 11 speed drivetrain and PRO components,
- Cane Creek for the bike jewelry-esque 110 headset,
- DT Swiss for the contribution of a smooth rolling Spline wheel set,
- Feedback Sports for the donation of a custom Pro-Elite repair stand and bicycle storage prizes,
- Pedal Fit PT for the donation of a custom bike fitting session,
- Jesse Crock for the donation of one of his incredible Colorado inspired paintings,
- Primal for sending out a box full of apparel,
- Hogshead Brewing and taproom for the venue space and donating proceeds from beer served at the event,
- SloHi Bike and Coffee for the excellent hospitality, coffee, and small parts for the bike build,
- World Bicycle Relief for the donation of stainless pint glasses and prizing,
- The Lookout Mountain Boys for putting on an always entertaining show,
- And most importantly for my good friend Muhammad from Sudan (by way of Seattle) for attending the event for the second year in a row.

As previously mentioned, this was the second year of Brews for Bikes, but keep your eyes open for another round of enjoying delicious brews, listening to good music, positive vibes, and most importantly, changing lives one bike at a time. Just make sure you don’t miss round three!

To learn more about World Bicycle Relief, please visit their website or to make a contribution to Brews for Bikes, please visit the event donation page.

Ride Report - Tour of Aotearoa New Zealand

May 20, 2016 By Ryan Krueger

Words and photos by Ihi Heke

New Zealanders love to bike. Even New Zealand’s prime minister, Hon. John Key, funded a cycleway that links one end of New Zealand with the other. Enter, first time Māori (Indigenous New Zealander) adventure mountain biker lining up for a “short” ride with the “tiniest of little” issues being that my first ever adventure ride happens to be the inaugural Tour of Aotearoa. Couple this with having no bike two days prior to the event, no training in the last six months and no idea what was required to set up a bike for a ride of this distance.

Running the entire length of New Zealand from north to south, the Tour Aotearoa is a 3000km bikepacking tour from the north tip of Cape Reinga all the way down south the town of Bluff. The tour is a collection of several of the greatest rides in the country all connected by the best available backcountry roads.

Luckily, the owners of Advocate Cycles are good mates of mine. On a recent trip to New Zealand, I convinced them that Māori were riding not for health, physical activity or even mountain biking but to seek the knowledge that only a mountain could pass on from several centuries of watching humans move across their pathways. In helping me out, they inadvertently helped Māori improve their connection to their lands through mountain biking.

Mountain biking is not only becoming popular with Māori communities seeking knowledge but it’s also becoming the new “rugby/netball” for Māori with too many injuries to play contact sports any longer. On top of this burgeoning interest in mountain biking, I’m convinced that adventure cycling as a form of mountain biking is the modality that will capture the imaginations of Māori due to the cultural importance of mountains within the Māori world view.

How this recent move to rediscover indigenous physical activity has come about has been a fascinating process in its own right. It was recently discovered that pre-European Māori had a highly comprehensive array of physical training techniques to improve power, agility, quickness, speed, coordination, flexibility, muscular endurance and aerobic conditioning. These strength and conditioning techniques were garnered from pre-European Māori’s most abundant resource, the environment that they lived in and shared with other living beings. That is, Māori appear to have looked to their ancestral ties with their atua (gods), kaitiaki (guiding animals) and tipua (spiritual animals e.g., taniwha) to make sense of their world and strengthen their control over their collective destiny by training as a reflection of what they saw in their local environment.

Initially, the whole idea of the Aotearoa sounded like a massive pain in the ass both literally and figuratively because I came from an era of mountain biking that used one bike for everything and each ride had to be completed within two to three hours. I was part of the era that thought that disc brakes were too heavy, carrying gear was unnecessary, and that suspension was for motorbikes and had no place on a bike—not anymore.

Two days out from the start of the Tour of Aotearoa, a smart looking, fresh, white, Hayduke turned up at my house. With the anthem of “steel is real” in the back of my mind I set about getting the bike up and running.

Twenty-four hours later, on a low tide, we set out on the start of the ride. The first section of the tour was 110km—86km of that on the aptly named, 90-mile beach. That’s right, almost 90km on sand with an incoming tide and 35 knot head wind for good measure. The first day was the filter from hell. A number of people on the start line asked how my training had been, to which I stated, “superb”—not a single issue of overtraining since I’d done none. Several comments were also passed that at a svelte 110kg I was probably “too heavy” to ride this type of event, especially with a 1×11 drivetrain, and I shouldn’t be surprised if I wasn’t successful in completing the tour. I think on both counts, I was finished with the event four days earlier than those who thought I would never get there.

I found the Hayduke to be a dream to ride on multiple, long, 12-hour days. I’ve been around mountain bikes for a long time (since the mid eighties) during which time I had been mostly interested in hill climbing only for the thrill of downhilling. Jump forward some twenty years and mountain biking has a new cousin—adventure biking. Interestingly, adventure biking allowed me to slow down and look around at all of the different locations more intimately because I didn’t feel obliged to rush.

Even more interesting was the number of people who knew about the Hayduke, especially considering it’s a brand new company. Not surprisingly, a large number of those people wanted to be part of the “next level crew” riding a Hayduke. I literally had adventure bike diehards leering over the Hayduke wanting to know every detail about how it rode.

The bike was a pleasure to ride, compliant to a fault, with effortless handling on the trail despite the gear loaded on the bike. In fact, I felt a little bit like the poor hillbilly with my borrowed panniers. Seeing all of the new techniques being used to carry gear including handle bar bags, seat bags and frame bags was out of this world and I intend to have a go at the correct adventure setup next time around.

I had expected to find the Hayduke tiring after a couple of consecutive days riding, considering I’d only ridden to the local store and back as training. However, I can say that I looked forward to getting back on it to ride each day. I think what I had underestimated was the relaxed angles of the Hayduke coupled with the steel ride making for a totally forgiving bike that could literally be ridden many long days in a row with very little rider fatigue.

In the end, the ride only took 22 days, when I had been told to expect 30, if I make it at all. I think the difference for me was the bike. It became like an old friend I’d catch up with for coffee before beginning each day. It was the absence of issues that made for such a wonderful ride. With the blessing of multiple days on the same bike, I was able to see the very direct effect that the Hayduke was allowing—a smooth ride and a great tour of my home country.

To say that I enjoyed being self sufficient and able to carry all my own food and sleeping equipment doesn’t do it justice—I loved it. Māori have had a long history of guiding non-Māori across a multitude of environments, all whilst surviving in often-difficult terrain. Adventure biking gave me a glimpse of my genealogy, of my very essence via mountain biking.

Dealer Spotlight – Velorution

March 9, 2016 By Ryan Krueger

Velorution Cycles and Bedrock Bags call Durango, Colorado, home. They are ideally situated in a solar-powered warehouse at one of the largest trailheads in town, with singletrack right out the front door. Velorution has been in business for a little over four years and just a couple months after Joey Ernst opened the shop, the maker of Bedrock Bags, Andrew Wracher, brought some of his first personal bikepacking bags into the shop having heard that Joey was into bikepacking. After a conversation about bikepacking, gear, and business, Bedrock became a reality.

Over the next four years Andrew and Joey worked closely with their separate businesses. Going into autumn of 2015, they decided to just up and combine everything—now they’re co-owners of what is, to their knowledge, the world’s first bikepacking-centric shop that actually makes gear on site.

Joey has been in the bike industry since he began working at a small-town Midwestern Schwinn shop in 1997—after spending years working in shops and on the World Cup MTB circuit as a mechanic, it was time to settle down. He didn’t know what else to do with himself besides stay with bicycles and so the bike shop was born.

His shop has also had quite an impact on the local cycling community. Before the mainstream cycling world had ever heard of bikepacking they had built up quite a little community of bikepacking adventurers in Durango. When they began, people would walk in the door, see the wall of bikepacking gear and say, “what is that strange stuff?” It’s very different now—people come in saying, “I’ve heard you’re the people to talk to about bikepacking.” Joey admits that for someone that’s rarely on the cutting edge of anything, “it’s pretty cool to be an originator in a movement that’s seeing a lot of traction.”

The shop is also involved in a handful of local and regional cycling events. Every other year Velorution hosts the start of the CTR (Colorado Trail Race), a race Joey has finished twice and absolutely loved every time. They are also heavily involved in the Colorado Endurance Series, a statewide, underground collection of no entry fee endurance events. They host about 4-6 of the races on the 17-event calendar every year and even created two of them—the Velorution Valkyrie backcountry fatbike race in January and the Velorution Venture multi-day bikepacking race in September.

Velorution really believes in the CES events because they take riders to amazing places—they don’t require participants to ride multiple laps on a boring course, they capture the essence of backcountry and self-supported riding, and they are free. Outside of the CES, Velorution puts on bikepacking and fatbiking clinics every year, and when they have time they run a weekly group ride. In short, they do their best to get involved and continue to build the adventure cycling crowd in the Four Corners.

When it comes to advocacy, one group that excites the crew at Velorution most is the Sustainable Trails Coalition, a nation-wide group advocating for sensible changes to federal Wilderness Area laws that keep things like bicycles and strollers out of Wilderness areas, while allowing horses and skis. Instead of just perpetuating the status quo, they believe this group is challenging nonsensical ideas and bringing realistic solutions to the table. Surrounded as they are in Durango, by hundreds of thousands of acres of federal wilderness, changes to the types of travel allowed in those wildernesses would very much change the local cycling community.

As a staff, Velorution is currently a three-person shop of avid riders that are great at getting people into the same things that they are into—gear that they use and personally believe in. Velorution stands apart from the crowd because they look for staff that is truly experienced in bike shops and the bicycle lifestyle, with a genuine enthusiasm for helping other people have fun on two wheels.

Living in a place like Durango, there is no shortage of trails in the area but when forced to pick favorites there are a few. It’s not exactly local the entire way—at 500 miles long that would be difficult to claim—but the Colorado Trail in its entirety is a personal favorite of Joey’s. Of riding the Colorado Trail he says, “Something about having nothing to do but ride, eat and sleep is mentally calming.” More locally, they like to ride on any of the awesome high country trails in the San Juans, which are always a favorite. Andrew is also a huge fan of the desert riding in southeast Utah and of course it doesn’t hurt that the shop is also located at a trailhead. A two-hour ride from the front door at Horse Gulch and 1:59 of it will be on trails—not bad at all.

Rider Profile - Lael Wilcox

January 11, 2016 By Ryan Krueger

If you haven’t heard of Lael Wilcox, allow us to introduce you. Lael has spent the better part of the last decade touring around the world on her bike. It all started about 8 years ago when Lael and Nicholas Carman decided to take off on a two-month paved tour in the United States—in some ways, the ride has yet to end. Since that tour, they have been splitting their years between working to save up money and traveling by bike.

They have spent time touring throughout North America, two summers chasing dirt routes across Europe and a substantial amount of time in both South Africa and the Middle East. Recently Lael has also taken to ultra-endurance racing with great success, setting the female record for the Tour Divide in the summer of 2015, although for the both of them, travel is most important and will probably always remain the focus.

Currently, Lael is down in Baja, Mexico aboard an Advocate Cycles Hayduke where she and Nick are working on mapping and planning a roughly 2,000 mile bikepacking route through the area. In the end, they hope to be able to publish the route for others to use as a springboard for their own rides. You can check out their project online at www.bajadivide.com. We caught up with Lael during her tour and asked her a few questions about what it’s like living this lifestyle.

RK: For starters, when you aren’t riding, where do you call home?

LW: I grew up in Anchorage, Alaska. That’s where my family lives so that’s where I’d call home. I don’t spend too much time in Anchorage. I don’t have a house or a car, but I’ll always go back there. When we’re not traveling we may work in different places. We’ve lived in Tacoma, Denali, Key West, Annapolis, Albuquerque, and France, but for the last eight years, we’ve spent the majority of our time riding.

RK: What do you do for work in between these long rides? Do you keep a similar schedule or does it change year to year?

LW: I usually work in restaurants as a server or a bartender. I’ve been working in restaurants since I was sixteen. The first year I cleaned a bar in the mornings and washed dishes in a cafe for the afternoons. Since, I’ve worked in at least twenty restaurants. It’s usually an easy job to find and an easy job to quit, and I enjoy the work. I’ll work hard for four to six months in a stretch, often two jobs at once. I save money so I can travel on the bike again.

I’ve done other jobs as well. I taught English in France and yoga in Anchorage and once worked the door for a bar on New Year’s. I’ll take any job I don’t dread. Although, serving is fast-paced and fast cash and I prefer it.

I don’t have a set pattern of work and bike travel. Mostly, I travel until I run out of money and pick up a job to save for the next trip and leave town when I can. It’s nice to mix it up. I’ll often live and work in different places. It’s fun and exciting to learn a new place and make new friends along the way, but I’m always ready to leave after a few months. There’s a lot to do and see.

RK: Tell us about your first extended bike tour and what effect that tour had on your cycling and the course of your life.

LW: I met Nick when I was twenty years old while in college in Tacoma, Washington. He gave me a bike so I could commute to work four miles away—otherwise I got around on foot. The bike opened up my world. I love walking, but the problem is walking takes a lot of time. The bike really speeds things up. We started biking all around town together.

At the time, one of my sisters lived in Seattle. The other sister flew in for a weekend visit. I wanted to go see them both. Normally, I would’ve taken the bus—its only $3 even with a bike. However, we didn’t have enough cash to pay the fare. So I said, hell let’s just ride there instead.

At the time, Nick and I were riding fixed gear bikes and it was definitely the longest ride of my life—45 miles. We pedaled and talked the whole way on bike paths, through industrial zones, outskirts and in town. Along the way, I turned to Nick and said, “If we can bike to Seattle, we could bike across the country!” I’d never known anyone to do it, but I could imagine the lifestyle of pedaling all day and camping somewhere different every night. We figured, I’d graduate in the spring and we’d leave from Tacoma and ride to the east coast.

I graduated, but we didn’t have any money—none. So we worked all summer, saved what we could and left in the fall. We flew into Boston to visit Nick’s sister, rode north to Montreal and south to Key West, Florida. We chased fall colors all the way to South Carolina and then rode the coast. Sometimes it was cold and hard, but we learned a lot: how to camp, eat, ride, and spend all day with each other and feel safe and free.

We ended up in Key West in November. It was the end of the road and we were out of money—it seemed like a great place to spend the winter and work. We both got jobs as pedicab drivers and I worked in a restaurant. We shared a small house on a tropical lane with a French guy who assumed the name Jack. We dove off the pier for lobsters and I spent many afternoons at the outdoor laundromat down the street because we only had two white work-shirts. Besides, Felix the coffee man made good Cuban coffee and sassed me cause I was from Alaska. He called me Palin.

We saved enough money in three months to ride out of town and we haven’t stopped since. That was eight years ago.

RK: What do you look forward to most on these adventures? Is it the riding itself, travel to new places, seeing new cultures and landscapes? Tell us what it is that makes you want to live this lifestyle.

LW: This is my life. How does anyone look forward to their life? Do they appreciate what they have? Do they daydream about what could be different? Do they daydream about other places or other people’s lives? Does traveling on the bike allow me to do all of these things? Yes.

I see and experience and feel new things everyday with my best friend in the whole world. We do this together. And then we talk about it. And then we sleep next to each other on the ground and then we wake up and do it again and pedal somewhere else. What else could I want?

It’s not always easy and sometimes it rains and sometimes we fight, but that’s life. Life is not always easy, but it can be damn good.

I look forward to mixing it up. And along the way, I look forward to sunny weather and climbing mountains and sleeping hard and smiling until the wrinkles at the ends of my eyes hurt.

What I look forward to most is going somewhere new every day.

Everywhere I’ve been, Ukraine, South Africa, Israel, I’ve been invited in and I feel like a special guest. People see us on the bikes—they’re curious about us and we’re curious about them. To be invited into someone’s home, you learn so much about how they live and what they care about. If we share a language, then we talk. If we don’t, then we do our best. It’s real and it matters.

In the end, I guess we find a home away from home. We learn new places. We ride our bikes and we’re happy.

RK: Why did you decide on Baja? What was it about the area that made you want to ride and travel there?

LW: Baja is just south of California and, snowbiking aside, it’s one of the last mountainous places we could ride in North America in winter. We rode here five years ago, mostly on narrow, paved Highway 1. This time we came back with bigger tires and less luggage to ride a mostly dirt route. To do this, Nick invested a lot of time and money into printed and digital maps. We’ve decided to commit more time to this project to ultimately publish a high quality route for other riders to enjoy in the future. This means we’ll probably ride the peninsula again this spring to explore alternative routing. I’ve come to learn that the Hayduke is the perfect bike for Baja. The 27.5+ wheels eat up loose rock, sand and washboard.

The peninsula is a desert, the least populous region in Mexico, with open water on either side. On Christmas Eve, we arrived at the dead end of a dirt road. A family was slaughtering a cow and they invited us to stay for dinner and singing and breakfast.

In the month we’ve been here, we’ve ridden along both coastlines, spent a lot of time in the mountains, and encountered lots of fresh water and the camping has been awesome, with mostly clear skies.

Throughout this ride, we have been working on connecting dirt roads and rough jeep tracks as much as possible. We hope to share our route with others and encourage them to ride here too.

RK: What’s next? Any plans after your time in Baja?

LW: We plan to be here for another month or two. We’ll be riding with friends and working on the route and then we’ll see. I’ll need to work sometime in the next few months. We might go back to Alaska to ride fatbikes in the snow. I’d love to ride parts of the Iditarod Trail and in the White Mountains near Fairbanks.

RK: Thanks so much, we wish you all the best in the rest of your Baja tour and will be excited to see where you end up next.

All photos courtesy Nicholas Carman

Dealer Spotlight - Topanga Creek Outpost

January 7, 2016 By Ryan Krueger

Topanga Creek Outpost, located in Topanga, California did not start out with the intention of selling bicycles. It began as a touring business taking tourists around LA to popular destinations and celebrity homes. During those touring years, Chris noticed the need for a bike shop in Hollywood and opened Hollywood Pro Bicycles right on the walk of fame on Hollywood Blvd. The shop was around for 8 years before moving to Topanga for a better quality of life. The shop in Topanga has been open for seven years now.

The move to Topanga was intended to allow a better quality of life for the owners—to move away from the chaos of Hollywood—and of course to be in closer proximity to the great mountain bike trails in Topanga State Park. The area boasts world-renowned road riding and amazing mountain bike riding while still in LA County.

Topanga Creek is proud to be a part of the small community and staying active within it is a big part of the shop mentality. In 2015, Topanga Creek received an honor of being the best small business in their senatorial district for being active within the community and they were humbled to have Senator Pavley show up to present the award.

At the shop, there is a secret door in the gate filled with spare tubes and anything road riders might need if they are pedaling by. They have an honor system in place so that they can help out riders if they need anything. Aside from sales, they also rent mountain bikes—people from around the world visit Topanga just to mountain bike in their backyard and Topanga Creek Outpost is there to help make that happen. Rentals can be applied to the purchase of a new bike and also give people a chance to explore their wonderful area. Everyone that rents a bike and completes their ten-mile loop receives a certificate of achievement after they finish. The loop has about 1700’ of climbing in ten miles.

When the shop first moved to Topanga, they were involved in a lot of racing events—it was a fun way to get new people interested in the sport. But they also noticed that the mindset had changed from having fun to going fast. While they still love racing and helping to get people active in that way, they have shifted their focus a bit to be more inclusive and inviting for all riders.

In the past two years the shop has shifted towards what they call their “UnPredict Your Wednesday” adventures. They take off every Tuesday night to go camping and hiking/riding into Wednesday morning. Everyone is invited to join, and while the adventure is “UnPredicted” there is usually a tentative schedule of where they are planning to be and what is going to happen that week. They see a lot of benefits of the sub 24-hour adventures—especially in the middle of the week—and are trying to spread the word. Trips have been as simple as camping a mile away from the shop or as complex as bikepacking out to a primitive campsite at the top of a 9,000’ summit to spend the night. In addition to these adventures, they also do weekly shop rides every Saturday morning pending weather. They bake 6 loaves of banana bread fresh before the ride and come back after to relax with coffee and fresh baked bread. The staff ride as much as they can with their free time—in addition to the weekly camping adventures, they also get involved with plenty of bikepacking and endurance cycling events.

No doubt, a big focus for Topanga Creek is to get people outside. Whether is be on bikes or by foot, they want people to explore the area that they live in. They work with the local IMBA chapter CORBA as new trails are proposed, planned and built and as a shop they hold work days for the local trails in Topanga. Since it doesn’t rain a lot in SoCal, when it does the trails get pretty torn up and the staff and community are around to help out when that happens. As a whole, they are always looking for ways to be more active with advocacy groups and efforts in the area.

The Topanga Creek staff has a wealth of experience in the cycling industry but come from varied backgrounds. Chris, the owner, has been in the industry for 20+ years—he likes to think outside the box and has created a unique retail experience in Topanga. Jay, another shop employee, came from a background of gravel racing in the Midwest and still continues to pursue and train for endurance events. And there is Jeo, he lives in LA and commutes to work by bike when he can and always joins in for Saturday shop rides—he is one of the best web guys around and also happens to be one of the nicest. The staff at Topanga knows their products in and out and have all worked together to build their own unique brand as well as to pursue creative endeavors through the retail environment. Just stop by the shop and see for yourself.