"Why would anyone want to do that?" "Who do you think you are you gonna get to show up?" "You're going to take them where?"
Obviously, my other half was not particularly enthusiastic with my plan to organize and lead a small group of women for a "beginner bikepacking trip." The fact that he doubted my sanity should have given me pause; I do have a history of jumping into things without thinking much about the logistics and potential consequences. But alas, when you love something as much as I love bikepacking (or backcountry skiing, or fatbiking or ... ), you are prone to thinking that everyone will love it just as much as you, if only they are given the opportunity to experience it.
Love is blind. And sometimes, logic is useless.
Obviously, my other half was not particularly enthusiastic with my plan to organize and lead a small group of women for a "beginner bikepacking trip." The fact that he doubted my sanity should have given me pause; I do have a history of jumping into things without thinking much about the logistics and potential consequences. But alas, when you love something as much as I love bikepacking (or backcountry skiing, or fatbiking or ... ), you are prone to thinking that everyone will love it just as much as you, if only they are given the opportunity to experience it.
Love is blind. And sometimes, logic is useless.
Logistical Challenges
Somehow, four brave, strong and (most importantly) enthusiastic women signed up for the trip. Remarkably, none of them seemed to mind that I was making this trip up as I went.
Naturally, there were several setbacks.
Firstly, COVID19 happened and the majority of the humans in the world elected not to interact with each other as they were previously accustomed to doing. Despite the global pandemic, the Inland Northwest has seen very low infection rates thus far, and we were all comfortable being in a COVID-conscious, backcountry situation. We had to postpone the trip by about 3 months. The mid-summer trip date made it feasible to ride some much spicier terrain and ended up being a good thing. We set our destination for some alpine singletrack.
But then just as things were looking up, our chosen route had some last minute snowfall (seriously, in JULY!) and would not be clear in time for our ride dates. Serendipity smiled and I had the opportunity to scope out a nearby, backcountry trail network just before our departure date and with a little bit of internet research and a lot of local networking, managed to get enough trail beta to put together a viable alternate route.
Lastly, but perhaps most tragically of all, the huckleberry milkshake stand at the end of our ride was closed on Sundays and we would have to go without. After a long day on the trail, thinking of nothing but huckleberry milkshakes, this was a travesty that no amount of look-at-the-bright-sides could silver line. We're just going to have to go back up there and ride again soon so we can have our huckleberry ending!
Naturally, there were several setbacks.
Firstly, COVID19 happened and the majority of the humans in the world elected not to interact with each other as they were previously accustomed to doing. Despite the global pandemic, the Inland Northwest has seen very low infection rates thus far, and we were all comfortable being in a COVID-conscious, backcountry situation. We had to postpone the trip by about 3 months. The mid-summer trip date made it feasible to ride some much spicier terrain and ended up being a good thing. We set our destination for some alpine singletrack.
But then just as things were looking up, our chosen route had some last minute snowfall (seriously, in JULY!) and would not be clear in time for our ride dates. Serendipity smiled and I had the opportunity to scope out a nearby, backcountry trail network just before our departure date and with a little bit of internet research and a lot of local networking, managed to get enough trail beta to put together a viable alternate route.
Lastly, but perhaps most tragically of all, the huckleberry milkshake stand at the end of our ride was closed on Sundays and we would have to go without. After a long day on the trail, thinking of nothing but huckleberry milkshakes, this was a travesty that no amount of look-at-the-bright-sides could silver line. We're just going to have to go back up there and ride again soon so we can have our huckleberry ending!
Trailside Challenges
Within moments of setting out, we had our first trail challenge when a fork-mounted cage decided to rattle into a front wheel, "CRUNCH!" The rider in front of me came to a grinding halt. Fortuitously, the rider was uninjured, as was her bike. The main casualty was the poor 'Anything' cage, which was crumpled and wedged beyond all belief between the front wheel and the fork. There was surprisingly little complaining or pessimism as we worked together to retrieve and repack her gear. After that, she was riding smoothly for the rest of the trip.
Throughout the day, one rider was consistently struggling with our pace. I chalked it up to a combination of fitness and low energy and the group did a lot of encouraging and waiting. Sadly, the solution to this situation didn't present itself until we were in camp and it became apparent that she had some SEVERE brake rub. New brake pads + a fully-loaded bike had combined to make her feel like she was riding in quicksand for 7 hours. After she adjusted her brakes that evening, she felt lighter than air (maybe just a slight exaggeration) and the group pace found a pleasant rhythm the following day.
The biggest technical adversity on the trail would be the blow down and deadfall trees that were left over from the winter. The thing about riding a trail that sees very little traffic is that the trail sees very little traffic, and therefore, sometimes the tidying up doesn't happen until later in the season. We came very close to turning our route into an out-N-back, but instead, we did our best to clear the down trees that were of a clearable size, and to team up to lift our heavily laden bikes up and over the downed trees that we weren't able to remove. Happily, we were able to complete our loop!
Throughout the day, one rider was consistently struggling with our pace. I chalked it up to a combination of fitness and low energy and the group did a lot of encouraging and waiting. Sadly, the solution to this situation didn't present itself until we were in camp and it became apparent that she had some SEVERE brake rub. New brake pads + a fully-loaded bike had combined to make her feel like she was riding in quicksand for 7 hours. After she adjusted her brakes that evening, she felt lighter than air (maybe just a slight exaggeration) and the group pace found a pleasant rhythm the following day.
The biggest technical adversity on the trail would be the blow down and deadfall trees that were left over from the winter. The thing about riding a trail that sees very little traffic is that the trail sees very little traffic, and therefore, sometimes the tidying up doesn't happen until later in the season. We came very close to turning our route into an out-N-back, but instead, we did our best to clear the down trees that were of a clearable size, and to team up to lift our heavily laden bikes up and over the downed trees that we weren't able to remove. Happily, we were able to complete our loop!
When it was all said and done, we ended up riding about 27 miles with 5.5 thousand feet of climbing in some of the most remote subalpine singletrack in Washington. Our campsite was perfect, complete with a nearby spring, views of the sunset and just enough mosquitoes to make it worthwhile to build a campfire. We shared whiskey and M&Ms and gave each other words of encouragement while repeatedly expressing our gratitude for amazing weather and breathtaking views.
There is something truly remarkable that happens when you put a group of women together in a physically demanding situation. Add a fella or two and the whole thing loses its magical balance and things start to feel awkward and incohesive. If you take out the all-day exertion and the exhaustion then you just have a group of bored women and there is bound to be drama. But a group of women, thrown together with a physical challenge, will always support each other and prove themselves stronger than they thought they were.
 This trip would not have been possible without the generous support of the Gravel Braintrust and Justin Short, BA. Thanks, dude! |
