Written by Kurt Refsnider, Executive Director
My bikepacking story began more than a decade ago when my mountain biking ambitions began to pull me toward bigger and bigger rides in unfamiliar landscapes or to connecting familiar but distant places. I spent hours pouring over print maps and fuzzy satellite imagery and enjoyed awe-inspiring trips with varying levels of success following the “routes” that I had created. But no matter the outcome of any particular adventure, I found myself absolutely enamored by multi-day mountain bike rides.
Early on, I shared some of these routes with other relatively new bikepackers who had seen my trip photos and wanted to experience those places for themselves. And with reliably unfortunate consistency, those folks bailed from my routes and sought more reasonable alternate tracks. It didn’t take me long to realize that where I opted to ride (or often push) my bike wasn’t necessarily about the riding but rather where I was riding. And that part of the passion often didn’t translate to other riders who more often expected where I had gone to have been driven by the search for great trails. That, however, wasn’t necessarily the case. A month-long solo trip across southern Utah in 2013 highlighted that for me as my focus was on conceptually connecting familiar parts of the desert landscape through the unknown country in between and trying to better understand the geologic relationships along the way. For me personally, bikepacking was a means for exploring and learning rather than seeking out as much great riding as possible.
This pattern culminated in 2014 when Bikepacking Roots co-founder Kaitlyn Boyle and I spent 30 days pedaling along the length of the Alps – L’Aventure Alpine. It was far and away the most arduous trip either of us had ever (or have since) done – 30 high passes, 320,000 feet of climbing, endless sections of above-treeline riding, countless hike-a-bikes of at least 3,000 vertical feet, and so much great trail. But despite the absolute magnificence of that 800-mile route, we never ended up sharing the data publicly because for most bikepackers, the over-the-top rigor simply wouldn’t be enjoyable. The same theme applied to long trips in Patagonia, Australia, New Zealand, and throughout the American West.
Subsequently, Kaitlyn and I devoted quite a bit of time to creating a series of 2- to 4-day routes on the Colorado Plateau and in the Central Rockies for Geology through Bikepacking, a Prescott College course in which we took groups of new bikepackers out on a series of self-supported trips and explored the diverse geology of the region. The impacts of the route development decisions are never more evident than while traveling with new bikepackers on those exact routes. Those routes and itineraries evolved from year to year, being honed by past experiences that went particularly well – or poorly.
It was through endeavors like those described above that I began to recognize the transformative power bikepacking experiences can have on individuals, and the vision for Bikepacking Roots as on organization began to congeal. On the route development side of our mission, the goal is to create professional and intentionally-designed routes with particular rider audiences in mind. Our initial offerings were varied in this way – the Colorado 14ers and Craters and Cinder Cones Loops are relatively short circuits designed for newer bikepackers seeking out singletrack and dirt road/4x4 track riding experiences, respectively. And the 1,100-mile Plateau Passage was created to offer experienced bikepackers a rugged, remote, and lengthy backcountry epic like no other.
The Wild West Route development was a whole different beast. The goal from the outset was to create a non-technical riding experience showcasing the wild and public lands of the American West – a place like no other on Earth. We sought to balance remote and immersive riding with regularly spaced services so as to make the experience as accessible as possible. And the physical demands of the route had to remain reasonable. Putting all this together resulted in a suite of criteria upon which the entire project progressed.
Scouting the Wild West Route took more than 8 weeks and involved more than 5,000 miles of driving on dirt roads, rough 4x4 tracks, and official Forest Service roads that really no longer were roads at all. In most areas, two or three parallel options for the route were scouted, incorporating input from local cyclists and land managers. For me personally, the scouting turned into a legitimate motorized adventure, allowing me to explore parts of the West that had been quite unfamiliar, but on a timeline that often dictated 12+ hours of driving for days on end. Dead ends, unexpectedly steep and blown out tracks, challenges associated with private lands, and completely annihilated “forest roads” turned me back on a daily basis. In Arizona, water resources dictated the alignment of the route in places, and I worked with private landowners in to offer additional water resources for bikepackers. On Navajo Nation in northern Arizona, I spent two years collaborating with their newly-launched Trails Initiative and the Navajo YES non-profit to envision, create, and institute regulations and a permitting process for the Nation’s first long-distance recreation route.
Upon completion of this extensive scouting, I set about determining how to best link up the sections that offered the most enjoyable and wild riding experiences while keeping the flow of the route on a broader perspective from becoming too taxing or remote. What I thought were the most stunning options that were scouted didn’t always make the cut for a variety of reasons. But the assemblage of sections that came together offered a consistent riding experience that met our criteria. By the summer of 2018, we had nearly 50 bikepackers ride some or all of the Wild West Route to provide feedback, help refine a few short sections, and build awareness of the new route in communities along the way. Personally, it was amazing to hear from these riders about how their experiences along the way were so closely aligned with the goal we set upon initiating the Wild West Route project. After incorporating the feedback from these riders, we released the Wild West Route in 2019 along with a 90-page route guide and an innovative new mobile app for bikepackers.
Since the Wild West Route was released, riders from across the globe have pedaled segments or the entirety of the route, and the appreciation voiced by these riders for the wild landscapes and public lands along the way has made my heart sing. A decade of adventures in route development, combined with input and feedback from literally hundreds of individuals, culminated in a route that will live on for decades. Hopefully one day I’ll have the opportunity to ride the Wild West Route, but for now, my attention has already been pulled elsewhere for other route development initiatives.
Written by Kaitlyn Boyle
Photos by Kurt Refsnider and Kaitlyn Boyle
The concept for Bikepacking Roots was envisioned on a shuttle bus ride to the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. It was Christmas Day of 2015, and eventual co-founder Kurt Refsnider and I were on our way to catch a flight with our bikes and bikepacking gear for a month to Puerto Montt, Chile. We, or mostly Kurt, had spent the prior few weeks scouring the Internet for trails and rugged dirt roads to connect a loop around northern Patagonia. It was our third international bikepacking trip on a self-designed route and an endeavor that grew out of years of riding routes in the western United States. Despite the difficulty of finding trails on the Internet to create a 1,000+ mile route, we were eager to assemble and pack our bikes and pedal into an unfamiliar landscape and culture.
Over the prior 6 years, we each had been packing our bikes and pedaling for days, weeks, and months on bikepacking routes of all varieties. And by 2015, we were witnessing bikepacking beginning to boom. At the time, bikepacking and ultra endurance bikepack racing were often intertwined, and many people who went out and explored to create and share routes ultimately saw races on those new routes. The Adventure Cycling Association had gifted dirt-inspired bicycle tourists with the iconic Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, but the organization’s focus remained largely on paved touring routes and related advocacy in the subsequent decades. The Arizona and Colorado Trails also rose to prominence as unique opportunities for single-track loving bikepackers to tackle long-distance trail routes. And as these routes and new races grew in popularity, bag manufacturers popped up in garages and closets around the country. The once-niche pursuit of overnight mountain biking began to explode.
That Christmas Day on the shuttle, Kurt and I were mostly discussing the wave of impact that would likely follow the explosion. As more and more people discovered and tried bikepacking (which we hoped would happen, as it is our passion), resources for successful bikepacking experiences would be needed, and the once-small fringe group of early bikepackers would need to band together as an inclusive and cohesive user group to advocate for access and for a chair at the outdoor industry table. And, most importantly to me, this fledgling group of people could be inspired to care about and develop a sense of responsibility to protect the places through which they bikepacked.
Fast-forward one month. Kurt and I are riding the shuttle from the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport back to Prescott, Arizona on the tail end of our trip. Despite marginally reaching our objective of riding trail around northern Patagonia, we were relaxed and happy. We had found rugged hike-a-bike through the jungle and over volcanoes and had been turned back by repeated closed areas (fires, volcanic eruptions, areas in which bikes were not allowed, etc.) that led to long paved detours around massive lakes and National Parks. Plans were derailed by trail construction projects that had not yet reached completion, and we pedaled countless miles on once-dirt roads that were being forever buried under paving initiatives.
Despite all those setbacks, the happiness and relaxation we felt was a product of enjoying beautiful landscape, lovely people, a day-to-day pace that was not itinerary-bound, and an open mindset. After all, a self-designed route is rarely what you anticipate it to be. On the shuttle ride home we remarked on the incredible opportunities the United States public lands system offers for bikepacking, especially compared with other parts of the world in which we had bikepacked already. We returned to the concept of an organization whose mission was to increase and advocate for access to the bikepacking experience and the landscapes through which bikepackers ride.
Fast-forward another 18 months. Kurt and I launched Bikepacking Roots as a 501(c)3 non-profit with a small and talented Board of Directors to help guide the organization. Our first year saw the release of the 1,200-mile Plateau Passage route, 285-mile Colorado Fourteeners Loop, and the 185-mile Craters and Cinder Cones Loop. And we gradually began to engage in advocacy and access issues on behalf of the bikepacking community.
Fast-forward another 2.5 years to today. Bikepacking Roots is now an established organization that has a clear mission and vision for how to attain it. Our membership has grown to nearly 5,000 individuals, and our Board of Directors has more than doubled in size to bring on a more diverse group of cycling advocates. Our routes are inspired by landscapes that offer the bikepacking experiences our members are seeking with an emphasis on bikepacking on dirt surfaces in wild places. We take the necessary time to fully research and vet routes for the intended riding experience and compile detailed route guides that provide all necessary logistical information and data to ride the route. Additionally, our route guides include environmental education content to connect riders with the natural history of the landscapes through which we ride.
Bikepacking Roots' Wild West Route (WWR) showcases the wild and public lands of the American West. At more than 2,700 miles in length, the WWR is among the longest bikepacking routes in the world. It's development involved collaboration with public lands managers, private landowners, Navajo Nation Department of Parks and Recreation, and 50+ bikepackers.
The WWR is more than 80% dirt, ranging from graded gravel to seldom-traveled dirt roads to rough 4x4 tracks. It offers bikepackers a remote, rugged, expedition-scale riding experience balanced with resupply options in small communities generally spaced a few days apart. Nearly 70% of the WWR's length is on public lands, passing through 18 National Forests, 6 National Parks and Monuments, 4 areas with BLM National Conservation Lands designation, and 2 tribal parks.
Bikepacking Roots is proud to offer a suite of resources for the route, including a comprehensive 82-page print or digital route guidebook with maps and conservation/public lands educational content, GPS data for navigation with ~1500 waypoints (services, water, campgrounds, etc.), and a smartphone app.
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Bikepacking Roots is the only non-profit organization dedicated to supporting and advancing bikepacking, growing a diverse bikepacking community, advocating for the conservation of the landscapes and public lands through which we ride, and creating professional routes. We value human-powered experiences and an inclusive, engaged, and informed membership (7,000+ strong) that makes a positive impact as we adventure by bike.
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