The Great Divide

My wheels rolled to a stop on the Utah state line, but the immediate thought was “what’s next?” I knew what was next.

I gave myself plenty of time to think it over and look for inspiration once home in Tucson. I needed a few days, because it is a decision that one does not make lightly. It takes everything I’ve ever done on a bicycle and takes it to the next level.

The Great Divide Race.

Truth be told, it has been on my mind ever since I met Mike Curiak on the Great Divide last summer. As Paula and I pedaled to Canada, I imagined myself putting in 100+ mile days, riding alone and seeing how far I could push myself. Sometimes I could visualize it happening, other times I felt overpowered by it and helpless. I started to prepare for it during the fall, beginning with the mental aspect. I did long rides and long races, trying to imagine continuing such efforts on a daily basis. I slowly convinced myself that this was possible. I also studied the route, going over each inch of it in detail (while I helped the ACA update their maps, GPS data and profiles).

Gear prep started in the winter, with a new bike and all manner of new gadgets. I was not ready to commit 100% to the race, but did commit to riding the Arizona Trail end to end. The gear and setup would be similar, so everything I learned would transfer over nicely.

But I left the final decision up to post AZT contemplation. I was not tired, not sick of cycling, not wanting to spend hours at a computer programming. I wanted to be outside, to feel the strength in my legs, to continue watching the world move and change, all from the seat of a bicycle. While the AZT had been a challenge in many ways, it was my second month long tour where the pace was fast, but not fast enough that I actually hurt. Both trips had been done with slower partners, and from where I sit now I wouldn’t change a thing about them. But now I’m ready to see what I can do.

So it begins. Canada to Mexico. 2,500 miles, ~200,000 feet of climbing. Dirt roads and brilliant scenery. The spine of the Rockies. Hours and endless hours on the bike. Eating junk food and sleeping like crap. Meeting good folks and other GDMBR cyclists. Laughs. Pain and suffering. Mental doubt. Silence the voice. Washboarded roads that never end. Views of mountain ranges I’ll never visit. Precious climbing rhythm, the flow of 4000 foot downhills. Hot desert flats for this Tucson boy. Nothing to do but ride and ride some more.

The fun begins June 17th from Port Roosville, Canada/US border.