What Comes After Graduation?

In May I traded in my title of “Full-Time Student” for “Unemployed”. 

While many of my business school classmates were beginning illustrious careers in Denver skyscrapers, I made the executive decision to stop my increasingly futile job search in the worst hiring market in decades. Instead, I chose to pursue something I was slightly more qualified for; riding my bike across Colorado. 

I specifically had my sights on the Colorado Trail, a 528 odd mile route that traverses from Denver to Durango. The route is fairly infamous, both for its jaw dropping views of the Colorado Rocky Mountains and its over 72,000 feet of elevation gain, 4x the elevation of Everest. While most choose to backpack, a small contingent of pain-loving endurance athletes choose to ride and walk their bikes over terrain that was not built with cyclists in mind. Bikepacking.com, the unofficial gospel for the niche world of bikepacking, rates the trail as a 9/10 in difficulty and describes it as “one of the longest, more arduous, yet most rewarding bikepacking routes in the US”. After watched numerous videos online of bikers and hikers alike breaking down on the trail from factors such as the altitude (the trail has an average of 10,000 feet), climbing, and technical difficulty of the trail, I figured this would be the perfect way to try bikepacking for the first time. 

To plan my trip I looked to the professionals. 

Every August, ultra distance bikepack racers from around the world converge to set dizzyingly fast records as part of the Colorado Trail Race. After learning that the fastest woman to race from Denver to Durango (SOBO) completed the trail in around 5 days, I figured a relatively leisurely schedule of 13 days of riding plus one rest day at my parent‘s house in Salida was achievable. This turned to be the first of many times during the trip that my ego lead me astray. 

To take on this endeavor I enlisted the help of my good friend Gigi who raced mountain bikes professionally for many years and now makes a career as a mountain bike coach. Her speed and love for the pain inherent to the sport made her a more than worthy partner. I was also, for reasons unknown even to myself, under the impression that she had prior Bikepacking experience. I later learned this was her first trip. 

Gigi and I set off on our 550 mile voyage through Waterton Canyon. It quickly became apparent to me that riding a fully weighted down bike was very different than normal riding. My objectively light Specialized Epic 8 seemed like Sisyphus’s rock as I tried to push it up real life boulders. Not even two hours into our journey, I was already wondering if I would be able to finish this trail with my back and shoulder muscles giving me some concerning sharp pains. as a cyclist I’m not exactly known for my upper body strength, something I wish I had rectified before embarking on this trip that is known for It’s extremely long and arduous hike a bike sections.

After an arduous first day, Gigi and I made camp alongside another group travelers on the CT. This group comprised a variety of characters. One guy packed a studio apartment’s worth of cookware, complete with stainless steel cutlery and full-sized pots and pans that would make any ultra light backpacker turn green. His friend was sporting various hair products, including hairspray and a regular-sized hairbrush. When I snuggly showed him my ultralight hairbrush, I was not met with the wonderment I had been anticipating. He sympathetically informed me that I had purchased a doll’s hairbrush. 

As it turns out, suffering is a surprisingly effective bonding activity. Around camp, everyone seemed to agree that the Colorado Trail had been far more humbling than expected, which was oddly reassuring. Sitting beneath towering cliffs surrounded by wildflowers, it was easy to forget that we’d have to do it all again the next morning.