Adventure cycling is when you get on your mountain bike with way too much gear and try riding over mountains on dirt roads, or trails if you're really nuts.
The Adventure Cycling Association in the United States has created an adventure trail, the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, that runs from Banff to Mexico and follows the continental divide. This spring, one of us Pedal Pushers, Heather, and her sister decided to try a section from Lordsburg, New Mexico, north to Santa Fe. Experienced outdoorspeople, they made every mistake in the book. But, they had a great adventure.
They rode the right machines for the job: a 29er and a 650b - both with front suspension and a million gears. They packed them into bike boxes and put them on the plane. When they got to Tucson, Ariz., they switched to Greyhound. That was their first mistake. The bus they were on to Lordsburg didn't have room for the bikes. But, the helpful Greyhound guy said he would put them on the next bus. Three days later, they received their bikes, which had somehow gone to El Paso and then to Phoenix instead of Lordsburg. The bikes covered more miles without them.
Finally they got going, taking a shuttle up to Silver City. They had planned to spend the next three days in the Gila National Forest following the divide, so they bought propane for the stove, food, and filled up with water. They also had a tiny tent, sleeping bags, pots and some clothes.
After the first day, they realized they were not moving as quickly as planned. That was their second mistake. Somehow those 50 miles per day they'd planned on turned into 25 miles. Maybe it was the 4,000-foot climb and the altitude being more than 8,000 feet on average. Or, it could have been the 35 C heat. Or, the extreme grades.
At camp that first night they realized there was no way they had enough food for the six days it would take them to cross the forest to the next store. So, they strolled over to the two other campers in the site and asked them for food. They were very accommodating and gave them an apple, two bananas, some mountain mix and two Clif bars. Their generosity gave them hope. Then, they decided to make dinner and tried the stove. Unfortunately, they discovered their stove head took only Primus-style canisters of butane. That was their third mistake.
Undaunted, they lit a fire and cooked over it - even though there was an extreme fire warning rating since the forest had not seen rain for more than six months. The weird thing about America is that having a fire while camping is one of their civil rights. Sated, they turned in around 7 p.m. and didn't rise for 12 hours.
It was two degrees when they exited the tent. Two hours later it was 28 C. By 3 p.m., while they pushed their overly burdened bikes up a 10 per cent grade, the thermometer read 40 C. Just after our Pedal Pusher had flipped over her handle bars coming down the same grade, a truck stopped to ask if they were OK. Blood dripping down her arm and thigh, she said, "Sure we are fine, thanks a lot for stopping." The truck drove on. When she caught up to it, her sister had stopped it to ask for food and gas. The driver gave them some packages of instant grits, a can of beans and some dried potatoes - just add water. With this new haul, they had hope they could make it out.
The next couple of days, though extreme in terms of heat and terrain were uneventful - unless you count the wind, or the threat of getting caught in a forest fire. They had water because some firefighters in a convoy gave them some.
Then they got lost. Of course, when you're lost you often don't know it at first. For part of one night and until the next day, they cycled south, undoing almost all of the northness they had gained. One clue was the GPS kept saying that they were more than 8,500 feet, but the elevation maps insisted they shouldn't be more than 7,000 feet. They were sitting on a log watching some elk grazing, eating peanut butter from the jar when it dawned on them. They were lost. They started laughing in that hysteric way. Then a truck drove by and asked if they were OK.
Our fellow Pedal Pusher said, "Sure we are fine." Her sister quickly intervened and asked for a map of the area. The guy in the truck gave them an NTS map, which showed every road, trail and contour in the area. Awesome! It showed they would be in the forest for another five days if they wanted to reach their destination. They had half a jar of peanut butter, one Clif bar, a can of tuna and some ramen noodles. Not awesome. They took a route down off the divide to the nearest town for supplies. That took two days.
They lost their bikes, didn't have enough food, had no stove and got lost. Not to mention our fellow Pedal Pusher ran over her new cell phone. It was a most excellent cycling adventure. They'll be going again next year. Anyone want to come?
The Pedal Pushers are Dan Campbell, Antje Wahl, Anita Leonhard and Heather Drugge, four North Shore residents who use their bikes for transportation.
