Our First Bikepacking Trip

Before I was ever a thru-hiker, I was a bike commuter. This was mostly out of necessity, as I didn’t own a car for nearly a decade. The more time went on, the more I grew to love traveling by bike. I have long wanted to do a multi-day bike trip, but Paul always seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea. 

That all changed this year, when we both got hardtail mountain bikes. Paul loves riding on the dirt, and having the ability to ride on rough roads has opened up many more opportunities for bicycle-based adventures. Suddenly we are both on the same page, excited to take our bikes out for overnight trips. This summer we finally had our first bikepacking adventure, right around the time I turned 40. While we had a blast, we got our butts thoroughly kicked, and learned a lot of lessons. Riding off-road, with a loaded bike, is hard. Harder than I thought it would be, at least. But like most hard things, it was rewarding and worth it. 

The Route

We rode a modified version of the Valles Caldera route from Bikepacking.com, also incorporating a section of the Great Divide Mountain Biking Route (abbreviated GDMBR). The GDMBR is essentially the cyclist’s version of the CDT, and it roughly follows the Continental Divide from the Canadian to the Mexican border. 

Valles Caldera, a National Preserve in New Mexico, is located northwest of Santa Fe, between Los Alamos and Cuba. Formed from a volcanic eruption over a million years ago, the dormant caldera is home to huge herds of elk, flowing streams, and expansive meadows. The roads through the preserve are open to a limited number of permitted vehicles per day, but there are no such restrictions for bikes, which can go on all the roads throughout the preserve. The only drawback is that camping is not allowed within the preserve boundaries, but the route weaves in and out of the park to alleviate this issue.

Day One

We began on the GDMBR, for some reason thinking that this section of the ride would be relatively easy. We were quickly cured of that notion. The road was steep, and we were pushing our bikes before we knew it. Then it was rocky. What did we expect? I remember hiking on some “roads” on the CDT in New Mexico that seemed insane for any vehicle to drive on, I should have known the route would be rough. 

A lot of this was probably made more difficult by the fact that I am not particularly experienced at riding on rugged terrain. It is an entirely different beast than riding a bike on the pavement, and I only ever had a road bike before this. Riding around town, I can cover 25 miles in 2 hours, at a pretty relaxed pace. Out here, it would take nearly all day to cover 25 miles, and I would be exhausted. I didn’t know this yet, of course, but I was starting to realize that the pace was going to be much different than I had imagined, and that this was harder than I thought it would be. I was riding at a pace I could hike at, and I found it a little frustrating.

The day was hot, and a few hours in we passed a stream and paused to refill our water. As we filtered, three Native Americans walked out of the woods with pickaxes and duffel bags full of some kind of root. We asked what they were up to, and they told us they were harvesting osha root. They gave us a piece, telling us it would make a nice tea, before saying our goodbyes and continuing on the route. We didn’t know at the time it would be the last flowing water until the next day. 

Although there was no more running water that day, there were cow ponds. We stopped at one for lunch, sitting in the shade of a tree. It was hot out. We were thirsty, but the edge of the pond was thick with reeds and looked difficult to reach. We decided to skip gathering more water here. We knew there would be a few more ponds and were still hoping to see a stream or a spring possibly flowing. I was hungrier than I thought I would be, but in the heat I didn’t have a big appetite. 

Naturally, I found myself comparing bikepacking to backpacking. Although cycling offers long sections of easy miles, miles that are easier than hiking, it also offers short sections of hard miles, and the hard parts are harder than hiking. It made me hungry, but I was working too hard to be able to keep riding and eat, as I do with hiking. I’d have to stop and take a break, but was having a hard time with that because our pace already felt so slow. Looking back, I just needed to change my mindset and accept the pace at which things were unfolding. But that can be hard to do, especially on the first day of a trip. It takes a few days to break free from the constraints of artificial time, dictated by schedules and timelines, and learn to move with the natural flow of time, dictated by sunrises and sunsets.

We rode past dry spring after dry spring and gradually realized that the cow ponds were going to be it for the water sources around here. We checked every potential water source, holding out hope that we might find some half decent water to drink. We finally stopped at a cow pond. It was muddy and smelled bad. I gathered water, but we didn’t filter it immediately, still half hoping we might come across something better so we could discard this nasty water, but we ended up with no such luck. I continued drinking what clean water I had left, figuring in the worst case scenario we could cook with the cow water and the food would disguise the bad taste. 

So we continued in the heat of the day, eating too little, struggling to make the miles we were hoping to. And the road got rougher. The grade would have been a challenge on pavement, but this road was not paved. It was hard to even call it a road. It seemed more like a rockpile. Gravel sized rocks, grapefruit sized rocks, soccer ball sized rocks, and even the occasional boulder. But they were not round or smooth like grapefruits or soccer balls. They were rugged, oblong, and had sharp edges. They were a jumble. We hardly made it anywhere before we were forced to dismount and push the bikes. Some dirt bikers rode past, then stopped at a smooth flat spot about halfway up the hill to take a break. We caught up to them and exchanged pleasantries, all in cheerful agreement that this road was crazy. We pushed our way to the top as it started to rain. 

We took shelter under a pine tree and watched the dirt bikers continue on in the rain, waving as they passed. The rain teased us. We had passed several more cow ponds, but they were muddy and brown and looked worse than the water we already had. We were starting to realize that the cow water might be it for today. We were conserving water and we were thirsty, and here it was raining. Clear, cool water. It crossed my mind that maybe we should set up the tarp and try to catch some rainwater, but it also didn’t seem it would rain that long, so I was never sure it would be worth it. So we watched the rain, feeling thirsty but keeping dry. 

At least the worst of the climbing was done with, as we had reached the rim of the massive caldera. The road flattened out and the riding in the afternoon was cooler than it had been in the middle of the day. It rained in short spurts a few more times, and each time we took shelter under a tree to keep dry through the worst of the weather, then continued when it improved after just a few minutes. We continued to keep an eye out for some fresh water, hoping for even a small stream of rainwater, but obviously there was nothing. At least we had some water, even if we were trying to avoid drinking it. As the terrain opened into a clearing, I rounded a corner and came upon a bear. He was a black bear, but his fur was a rusty dark brown color. He was big and beautiful. He immediately bolted, charging down the hill and out of sight. Paul missed it entirely. 

The area the bear was hanging out was actually quite nice. Not wanting to camp in the exact place a bear is known to visit, we carried on a little further, but not much. The ground was flat and this was the best place to camp nearby, so camp we did. We made sure to cook dinner far from our sleeping area, and secured our food in our Ursacks for the evening, also a good distance from our tarp. There was evidence of bears around the area, but we were too tired to worry too much about it. Continuing along the route would have meant several more miles before we came to a good place to camp, and we were done for this day.

Despite being exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, I found a long day on the bike to be much easier on my body than backpacking. At the end of a long day hiking, my feet are exhausted, my legs are aching, and my back is sore. Moving hurts, and I have to sleep it off in order to feel nimble again. This is not the case on a bike. Sure, my knees get tired, my hands get fatigued, and my neck gets sore, but I hop off the bike and feel light and fresh. Moving around camp is easy. My feet aren’t screaming at me. This has become one of my favorite things about bikepacking.

Dinner was terrible. The foul water made the mac and cheese taste dirty. It was edible, but tasted stale, on top of everything else. I was still hungry, but not hungry enough to make this dinner very edible. We had to force ourselves to choke it down, then ate a few snacks. We went to bed dehydrated and underfed. And why did we bring backpacking food anyway? Sure, the exhaustion of walking under a heavy load all day will make about any food taste good, but biking is different. We could manage a little heavier food carry, because the bike takes the brunt of the load. Not to mention, real food tastes so much better. We learned this lesson the hard way. Better food next time. 

There was no bear activity in the night, but my pad had popped, and every hour or so I woke up to blow it up and fall back into a restless sleep. 

Day Two

We rose at first light, eager to get started and get to water before it got too hot out. The nasty water was all we had left now, and we were not looking forward to drinking it. 

I saw an elk – again Paul missed it – at the top of a smooth, long descent. A good way down, we realized that we’d missed a turn, and shouldn’t have gone downhill at all. Good thing Paul asked to check the map or I would have gone even further before realizing the error. We trudged back uphill, a little demoralized by the start to the day, but soon enough we had reached the border of the Valles Caldera preserve. We hauled the bikes under a locked gate and started down a road that had clearly not been maintained for vehicles for a very long time. 

It was a long downhill, from the rim into the crater itself. The road was rocky and fairly steep, making for a bouncy, brake-heavy descent. About halfway down we both had to stop for a break. Our hands were tired from constantly squeezing the brakes and from the nonstop vibrations due to the rugged road. Paul was probably having more fun than me. He was definitely moving faster. As usual, I prefer the uphill sections and leave him in the dust, while he bombs down the hills leaving me riding the brakes and maintaining a cautious pace. Over time we each get better at keeping up with the other, but this was one of my first trips riding off-road, so I’m sure I was pretty slow. Still, after all the climbing we did the day before, it was nice to be descending. It was bumpy and tiring but fun. 

Most importantly, as we got near the bottom, we passed a stream. What a sight to see running water! We stopped immediately and dumped our nasty cow water, replacing it with fresh stream water. What a relief. We continued to the vast meadow at the bottom of the crater, joining a road that is open to vehicle traffic. As we stopped for a break and to gather yet more water, some mountain bikers coming from Los Alamos rode by. They were intrigued by our setup and asked a few gear-related questions before heading on their way, and we on ours. We left with as much water as our bikes and bellies could hold. 

The going was easier for the next few miles, as we were on roads maintained for vehicles. To our good fortune, there was not  heavy traffic and we had the place mostly to ourselves. We cycled through meadow after meadow, and the clouds above gathered and grew and began to grow dark, threatening to rain on us. We pushed on, trying to outrun the storm, or at least make our way back to the cover of trees before the rain started. 

As luck would have it, we made it to the visitor center just in time for foul weather. We sat on the covered porch as it rained and watched the herd of elk across the valley. Running low on water again, we’d hoped there would be a faucet at the visitor center, but were disappointed to find that our only option was to buy water, a half a liter at a time. So, we bought a few bottles of water and a few bottles of Powerade, and a nice couple visiting the park kindly offered to let us refill our water bottles from the jugs in their car, as they were leaving and no longer had the need for it. We were grateful to get clean water that didn’t taste bad or need to be filtered, and thanked the couple for being so kind as we ate a few more snacks and got back on the road. 

Despite being in good spirits, by this point I was not feeling well. I’d been struggling to take in calories and had certainly been dehydrated since the day before, and it was catching up to me. Our progress was still slower than we wanted, and we had miles to make before the day was done. After consulting the map, we decided to make an adjustment to the route we were following. Our change would cut out the biggest climb of the route and a chunk of miles, taking some pressure off the pace we were starting to get stressed about. 

We left the visitor center with this new plan, getting lightly rained on as we crossed yet another meadow. From the main road, we passed through several gates, and with each gate there were fewer cars on the other side. Soon we would be alone, leaving the roads maintained for cars behind us and rejoining the roads too rugged for the vehicles. The rain had brought nicer temperatures and the clouds provided some protection from the sun, but I struggled for the rest of the afternoon. We did not pass water again, so we continued to conserve what we had, and this probably didn’t help. We rode until dusk, struggling to find a place to camp in the rugged terrain. We stopped the moment we found a spot decent enough to set up for the night. 

Once at camp, I still had no appetite, but recognized that I needed to force myself to eat as much as I could. I consumed as many calories as I could handle, and after a little while, I could feel myself improving. Because Paul always sleeps better than me, especially in uncomfortable situations, he was nice enough to trade sleeping pads with me, since mine was deflating. I’d say we both slept pretty well that night. 

Day Three

I woke up feeling much better. We had a big climb to tackle in the morning, and a lot of miles to cover, so we were eager to get an early start. Not long after setting out, we rounded a turn and came upon a huge herd of elk. We’d startled them, and the entire herd took off running down the mountainside. The earth rumbled beneath us as the stampede ran across the road right in front of us. We watched in silence as the herd ran, out of sight and out of earshot. It was a truly special moment. 

If I struggled the day before, Paul struggled this day. As we climbed, we stopped for long breaks. Paul tried to nap and we both tried to eat enough calories. We were starting to get low on snacks, but in an effort to save water we were avoiding cooking our backpacking meals. So, we just continued eating the snacks we had, rationing so we would have enough energy to keep climbing, but still have some calories for the rest of the day. 

We climbed and we climbed. The road we were on was technically a state route, but it was still a dirt road and the traffic was light. At last we made it back to the GDMBR, where we would retrace our tracks from day one back to the car. In my mind, the first day was nothing but climbing, so this should be a nice downhill back to the car. Not quite. The problem is, the downhill parts go fast and the uphill parts go slow, so while in my mind it was all uphill, it was actually quite a lot of up and down, and I only remembered the uphill parts because they occupied so much more time. We stopped at the same pond we had our lunch break at on day one. This time, we did not skip the opportunity to gather water. We made our way down through the reeds and pulled some algae filled water from the pond, declining to cook any food in favor of finishing the route faster.

The last few miles were a slog, even when we did at last come to a very long downhill section. I knew Paul was not feeling well when he asked if we could stop for a break despite being on some of the easiest terrain of the entire route. I suggested we could camp for the night, and get back to the car early in the morning, but neither of us really wanted to do that. We knew there was water at the car, and we were eager to get there. Finally we made it! And though Paul had been the one struggling, once we were in the parking lot and the route was done, my body was too. I threw up right in the middle of the parking lot. The hunger, exhaustion, and dehydration had caught up to me. But we had made it. 

We moved to a nearby camp site, set up or big car camping tent, and both crawled into bed too tired to bother cooking any food, despite our hunger. We drank tons of water and laid in the tent for an hour or so until we began to feel a little better. I pulled a package of tortillas out for something to snack on. Before I knew it we had eaten the entire package. It tasted so good, we truly were hungry and exhausted. Soon after it started to rain, and then the thunder and lightning started. I was glad we decided to get back to the car and weren’t camping under the tarp. 

In the morning, I noticed a CDT blaze right by our campsite. I checked my map and realized we were truly right on the CDT, which means we have walked right across the spot we were camping back in 2018. What a fun coincidence. We loaded up the car and headed down to Cuba for a delicious New Mexican breakfast. 

Lessons Learned

Our first bikepacking trip was fun, and it was hard. This was partly our fault, we could have chosen an easier route, but we seem to always choose to suffer for some reason. Still, we left wanting more, so apparently we suffer well. In the end, we made a few mistakes and learned a few lessons that have helped us on trips since. 

For starters, we approached food all wrong. When backpacking, it is very easy to walk and eat. Even in harder terrain I usually don’t have a difficult time shoving some calories in my face. It was different on the bike. When it is hard, when you are going uphill and burning tons of calories and are totally out of breath, it is not so easy to eat. The right thing to do would be to stop and take in more calories, but because I was so concerned about our pace, I never wanted to take the time. That was a mistake.

More importantly, eating dehydrated foods is advantageous when backpacking because you are limited by how much weight you can carry on your back and how many miles you can travel each day. On a bike, there are many more options for resupply, and you can carry heavier items because the bike itself carries the bulk of the load. Real food tastes better and makes the trip more enjoyable. I’ve learned to take entirely different foods bikepacking than I would backpacking. Real food is just better. 

Finally, I learned some lessons about riding. Bikepacking is a different beast than bike commuting, or even mountain biking. I had to learn to let go of the pace I thought I would be going, and accept the terrain and the difficulties. Like backpacking, this is a mental game, one where you learn to live in the moment and accept the challenges in front of you. I also had to learn to ride differently. In such rugged terrain, it is important to keep the body relaxed. But being new to riding such rugged roads, I was anything but. I gripped the handlebars too tightly, I moved with too much rigidity, and held tension in my shoulders and arms. Not only did this add to my fatigue, but by the end of the journey I was experiencing symptoms of carpal tunnel. As I have become more used to riding this type of terrain, I have improved at maintaining fluidity, and this has made a big difference in how I feel physically after long hard bike rides. But I had not learned these lessons yet when I set out on this ride.

We have been out on a few more bike trips since then, and each time it gets a little easier and we have a little more fun. We definitely eat better. And we let the pace come naturally.