My Great Divide Odyssey: The Places, People, and Gear That Kept Me Riding
This past summer I embarked on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (GDMBR), a trans-continental bike route stretching from Banff, Canada, to Antelope Wells, New Mexico. It is 2,700 miles of primarily unpaved roads that snake their way along the spine of the Rocky Mountains. Many consider it to be the birthplace of long-distance bikepacking. After over a year of planning, training, and saving money, I felt ready to attempt this long and famously difficult bike ride. I boxed up my bicycle, dragged it to the Denver airport, and flew off to Calgary! Next thing I knew I was waking up just outside of Banff.
The morning sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as I rolled out of my sleeping bag on the outskirts of Banff, British Columbia. Today marked the beginning of my journey along the GDMBR. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, I packed up my campsite, retrieved my food from the bear box, clipped into my pedals, and set off on what would become one of the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life.
The initial miles were a blur of adrenaline, as I navigated through a maze of singletrack trails and dusty dirt roads my tires crunched over loose gravel and roots. The elevation gain was relentless, but I pushed on, fueled by the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before me. Blue alpine lakes and the soaring shale mountain peaks of British Columbia made even the most harsh climbs a pleasure. The Great Divide Mountain Bike Route is a rugged, unforgiving path that winds its way south through the heart of the Rocky Mountains, demanding both physical and mental fortitude. Towering peaks, emerald-green valleys, and crystal-clear streams accompanied me every step of the way.
As the days turned into weeks, I settled into a rhythm of riding, eating, and sleeping. My days were filled with long stretches of solitude, punctuated by brief encounters with fellow riders and the occasional town for resupply. Every gas station and restaurant became a haven, filled with calories and running water and a flushing toilet. I learned to appreciate the simple pleasures of life: a warm meal, the kindness of strangers, and a night under the stars.
One of the most memorable aspects of my GDMBR journey was the camaraderie I experienced with other riders. Though my encounters with them were almost always brief, they were meaningful and uplifting. The near-constant feeling of being alone in the wilderness was punctuated by the light a fellow rider brings. We shared stories, laughter, good campsites, and words of encouragement, forming a loosely-knit community bound by a shared love for the trail. As distant partners, we tackled the same steep climbs, conquered the same treacherous descents, and celebrated our collective accomplishments.
The GDMBR also presented me with everyday challenges. I wanted to quit at least once every day. There were days when I was coughing up blood, wondering if I was doing permanent damage to my respiratory system. There were days I couldn’t fall asleep, camping alone in Grizzly Bear country, wondering “is this what I consider fun?”. I questioned my sanity, my love of type-2 fun, and if my body aches were just muscle soreness or something worse. But I persevered, drawing strength from the incredible beauty of the surrounding landscape and the unwavering support of others on the trail.
As I approached the southern terminus of my ride, a sense of bittersweet anticipation washed over me. I was both excited to reach my destination and sad to see my adventure come to an end. When my partner arrived to pick me up, I burst into tears, unable to explain why. The GDMBR transformed me in many ways, teaching me about the limits of my endurance, the power of perseverance, and the beauty of the natural world. But it also taught me unexpected lessons about the value of human interaction and meaningful connection. My trip was over, and I was simultaneously relieved to be done, wishing it went on longer, and overjoyed to be back with my loved ones.
I had accomplished something I could be proud of, something that I would never have believed possible before embarking on this journey. As I looked back on the countless miles I had ridden, the countless mountains I had climbed, and the countless challenges I had overcome, I felt a profound sense of gratitude and accomplishment.
I knew that my ability to have a successful bike ride would partly hinge on my gear choices. With this in mind, I was extremely prudent in my gear selection.
Below are some pieces of gear I brought along that served me well, and I think any bike rider attempting the GDMBR should consider bringing them too. If you’d like to read more about my gear trials and tribulations, check out my article Gearing Up: A Bikepacker’s Tale of Trials and Triumphs.
Arm and Leg Sun Sleeves
I personally used arm sleeves from Outdoor Research and leg sleeves from Pearl Izumi. Being fair-skinned, these sleeves not only kept me from needing to apply copious amounts of sunscreen every hour, but they also kept me significantly cleaner. The constant dust from the path, coupled with sweaty arms and legs, leads to some dirty limbs. Lastly, these sun sleeves are extremely easy to wash, and they provide excellent evaporative cooling after doing so.
Aero Bars
I had never ridden on aero bars before training for the GDMBR, and I hated mine when I first put them on my gravel bike. But over weeks and months of training, the Profile Designs Legacy II aero bars began to grow on me and over time became my favorite riding position. While on trail, they provided tremendous relief to my wrists and shoulders, not to mention I was faster while riding in that position. On the GDMBR, aero bars aren’t about the aerodynamic gains, they’re about additional comfort. Get yourself the largest risers you can!
A Quality Synthetic Puffy Jacket
I wore my Patagonia Micro Puff an unhealthy amount on this ride. I think I wore it for nearly 60 hours straight as I was pedaling through Wyoming. The synthetic insulation is a must for bikepacking, because everything you own will get wet. You may say, “But I keep all of my things in dry bags!” Me too, me too. Bikepacking has this funny way of taking what you think you know about your gear and mucking it up. Things you don’t expect to ever break, suddenly break when you least expect it. Essential gear that has been kept in a dry bag all day is somehow wet. Don’t leave home without a synthetic puffy jacket, it will serve you well!
A Free-Standing, Lightweight Tent
As the world of gear continues to change to ever-lighter evolutions and smaller, more compact options, I continue to reach for free-standing tents like the Mountain Hardwear Nimbus 2. Though they will never be the lightest or most compact option, free-standing tents offer one absolutely critical benefit: they can be set up anywhere, and on any type of ground or soil. Flat ground is ideal, but if you’re tired enough, sleep will come quickly no matter where you set it up. I considered bringing a bug net and a tarp on the GDMBR, and in the end I am grateful I opted for the Nimbus. The bugs in Montana and British Columbia were swarming, and the ability to escape into my tent and have a few hours of peace was invaluable for my sanity. Wyoming brought extreme wind, rain, and lightning, and once again I was grateful for my tent. It bent and swayed and sure looked like it might collapse from a few wind storms, but it held fast and kept me dry and secure throughout it all.
The Final Word
The GDMBR is more than just a bike trail; it’s a pilgrimage, a test of oneself, and a celebration of the human spirit. My time on that bike trail will stay with me forever, a reminder of what I am capable of when I push myself beyond my limits. If you’re considering embarking on this incredible adventure, I urge you to do it. It will change your life in ways you never imagined. The natural beauty you will witness, the community you will have with your fellow riders, and the invaluable gear you bring with you, will all play a pivotal role in your journey along the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route.
About the Gear Tester
Sam Kilburn
Sam’s background is as a farmer, trail worker, ski patroller, and ice climbing guide in New England, but he currently works as a Park Ranger in Boulder County. When not at work, Sam enjoys backcountry skiing, mountain biking, woodworking, volunteering and reading a good non-fiction book. Someday down the road you’ll be able to find Sam in Vermont working in the garden and building his house in the woods.