On day five, when the road turned easy, Marty coasted up alongside me with a question. “What’ll you say when people ask about this?” “This” was our eight-day trip bikepacking and hiking in Iceland. The ruggedness and the weather. Also, the awe and the impossible beauty. “Like, someone you care about. Do you tell them … More Bikepacking Iceland: Things Pull Apart
Ride your bike long enough across any rural stretch of the Great Plains, and just about everything will grow personified. I’m convinced by now that my bike has strong opinions about mud. That farm dogs and cattle are capable of casual conversation. And that the dead racoon up ahead is just somebody having a slightly … More Riding with Abandon
I landed on my back at the bottom of the slickrock, a rented mountain bike slapping down across my chest. My friends swung over, swinging between chuckles and concern. Was I OK? And could they take pictures? (I think so. I’d rather you not.) I stared straight up at the clouds, taking inventory of my … More The Great Uncomformity: A crash course in riding the Canyonlands
The thing I love about endurance sports is how doing well in them hinges on how well you know yourself. You can’t tick along at a high level as an endurance athlete without knowing what makes you tick. And in gravel racing, where two win and hundreds lose, one of the things thou better knowest … More Know Thy City
As much as I wanted it to be, the Mid South just wasn’t part of my race plans this year. This top gravel event seems forever stuck on my radar—and off my race calendar. The distance from home and its cold and muddy spot on the calendar have kept me away. (How would that 400-mile … More Incredibly Distanced Oklahoma
There’s a toll bridge in Plattsmouth, Neb., that may as well be a carnival ride. You and a few of your eager pals bomb down Livingston Road toward the river to get there, hepped up on Gu packs sweet as cotton candy. You squeeze the brakes at the tollbooth, where a quarter grants you access … More A Carnival of Earth
Sickness kept me out of last summer’s Cornhusker State Games. And ever since, the course download has just sat there on my Garmin, mocking me. “You feeling better yet, Sunshine?” “Up yours, Gary,” I’ll say. (Gary is short for Garmin, if you didn’t know.) Last week, the conversation went like this. “My Sunday just opened … More Headwinds Howl in Spring Training
Two days before the Cornhusker State Games gravel grinder, I woke on my left side with a start. A fifty-cent piece had somehow wedged itself against the back of my mouth, its grooved edge scratching. My startled consciousness fired off practical questions. How the hell did a coin get back there? And how could I … More The Unracer: Go inside the mind of someone outside the race.
Dirt Tan Bike Club 