Planted Seeds

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

In the land that I heard of

Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true

Somewhere Over The Rainbow, Harold Arlen & Yip Harbury (1939)

This print hung on a wall at my grandparents' farm house for as long as I remember,
until a tornado destroyed the house in 2003.

My paternal grandparents, Joe and Mabel Groseth, lived their lives on a family farm in SouthEastern South Dakota near the small town of Centerville. Both of their grandparents immigrated from Norway to  homestead there in the late 1870's and much of that land remains in the family to this day. 

Grandpa Joe and Grandma Mabel successfully farmed the family farm for decades, starting with horses and adapting to machinery. Beef cattle and dairy cows, hogs, chickens, and horses filled the barnyard and surrounding pastures. Pheasants, jackrabbits, deer, coyotes and all sorts of other wild critters roamed the dense shelter belt and nearby river bottoms. Corn and soybeans filled the fields and the harvest filled the barns and bins.

Grandpa Joe actively engaged in community affairs at Scandia Lutheran Church, with various service organizations, and through township politics. He even served 10 years as a representative in the South Dakota State Legislature. He was a force.

Grandma Mabel also actively volunteered at their church, service organizations. and charities. She had grown up on her family's farm just a few miles away, and played basketball for the Centerville High School girls basketball team in 1919. That's over 100 years ago! She then became a country school teacher, before starting her own family. She was a rock.

They raised three sons on that farm, the youngest my dad Clifford. That hardy, faith-driven upbringing developed Dad's strong character traits of integrity, honesty, accountability, independence, and self-reliance, as well as his entrepreneurial spirit, business acumen, and legendary stubbornness. Farming occasionally allowed time to think and dream, which Dad eagerly embraced.

Grandpa Joe's "business card" when running for re-election to the South Dakota legislature.

As a "town" kid growing up in the 1960's and 1970's, I loved our frequent visits to that family farm. The main attraction, of course, was Grandpa Joe and Grandma Mabel. But getting outside, out into the barn and outbuildings and deep into the shelter belt, was always a great adventure.

One enduring memory of the family farm was that of a small art print in a simple frame, hung on the west wall next to a window in their living room. I would see the image of a little cabin perched high in the mountains, gaze out the window to the west, and wonder.

Do places like that exist? Where? Could you live there? How? What would that be like? It looked so quiet, so peaceful. Boy, I'd love to go there someday.

I also wondered why Grandpa and Grandma placed that print in such a prominent place in their home.

I do know that in 1928 they drove a Ford Model A over a thousand miles one way from Centerville over the Rocky Mountains to Salt Lake City for their honeymoon. That certainly took some gumption and some grit, especially back then on mostly dirt roads. Maybe the print had something to do with that. I don't know. I never asked them while they were alive.

Grandpa Joe passed in 1977, Grandma Mabel in 1990. For several years, Dad maintained the buildings and continued to farm the land. But in 2003, a tornado blasted through the area, destroying the homestead. It actually lifted the roof off the house, spun it a bit, and set it back down off kilter. Debris scattered everywhere.

The family and community pulled together a massive cleanup effort and then Dad auctioned off most of what had been salvaged. I wasn't there for any of that, though I should have been. Afterward, only the uninhabitable house, the old barn, and a silo remained.

Aerial photograph of the homestead of Joe and Mabel Groseth (circa 1978).
This was after Grandpa Joe passed and before a tornado destroyed the house.

Months later, when I finally made my way back, Dad and I walked around the hauntingly vacuous homestead. Ever the stoic Norwegian, Dad spoke softly of the tornado and its destruction. It felt like the heart of family history had been ripped away.

We entered the house. Doors had been blown off hinges and siding pried off walls. Shattered glass, broken furniture, chunks of woodwork, tree branches of all sizes, and random debris littered the floor. Every step landed on top of something that wasn't supposed to be there. A heavy sadness clouded all thoughts.

Climbing a narrow, creaking staircase to the second floor, I stepped into a small bedroom. My heart stopped.

Atop piles of debris on the floor lay that mountain cabin print!

How it found its way up there is anyone's guess. Dad suggested that it flew out a first floor window and, in the swirling chaos of a tornado, flew back into the house through a second floor window.

I don't know. It didn't matter.

In the midst of such destruction and loss, here was a cherished piece of family history. Somehow, despite the tornado's unimaginable power, the print had survived and appeared right in front of me, months later. 

It felt like a miracle.

With Dad's permission, I dug it out of the debris to take home. The rest of our homestead tour passed a little lighter.

The high mountain cabin print, as restored and re-framed in 2004.
(Thanks, Kent Cherne at Denver Art Supply)

That restored and re-framed print has hung in our home ever since.

And it always makes me wonder. 

What combination of nature and nurture creates a yearning to explore the unknown, to see what lies around the next turn, across the next river, or over the next mountain. More broadly, what fuels the willingness to take a chance, venture beyond your comfort zone, or forge your own path, however unconventional.

Certainly some of that is hereditary. But it's hard to discount seeds planted by environment. They are likely inextricably intertwined.

I'm just grateful for both.

Thank you, Grandpa Joe and Grandma Mabel.

Over The Rainbow, Eva Cassidy (2014).

That One Left A Mark

The bells were ringing

Our souls were singing

Do you remember, never a cloudy day

There was a 

Ba de ya, say do you remember?
Ba de ya, dancing in September
Ba de ya, golden dreams were shiny days

September, Maurice White & Allee Willis (1978)

(image by Cyler Groseth)

Five years ago today, I stood alone in the blazing sun, stunned, at the closed U.S. Border Station at Antelope Wells, New Mexico not quite believing that I had just finished riding across the country on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. Unreal.

That day is seared into my pysche.

Rather than trying to somehow express that day yet again, I simply reproduced the journal entry handwritten while waiting on my brother for a ride toward home. Nothing profound, yet it still releases a flash flood of thoughts and emotions.

That one left a mark.

Addendum. I listed, described, and linked over 50 posts about this ride on a Blog Page entitled Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (2021).

Addendum 2. I finished my Great Divide ride on September 8, 2021. While waiting for my brother Cyler to pick me up at Antelope Wells, the song "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire and the cover by Kirk Franklin played through my head many times. Pure joy. Some singing and dancing may also have been involved.

The bells were ringing

Our souls were singing

Do you remember, never a cloudy day

There was a 

Ba de ya, say do you remember?
Ba de ya, dancing in September
Ba de ya, golden dreams were shiny days

September, Maurice White & Allee Willis (1978)

September, Earth, Wind & Fire (1978)

Everybody has a September in their life

You know that first time you heard God's voice

So you felt His love

So no matter what season you're in right now

After winter comes spring

So, if you love my Jesus, help me sing

Ba de ya, tell me you remember
Ba de ya, when your heart felt like September
You still had the joy and God was just a prayer away

September, Kirk Franklin (2007)

September, Kirk Franklin (2007)

2026 Mammoth 450 - Ten Lessons (by Matt Gersib)

Ten Lessons Learned On The 2026 Mammoth 450

by Matt Gersib

The inaugural Mammoth 450 was a first for me in a lot of ways. It was my first bikepacking trip outside my local environment, going to places I'd never been. It was my first trip of more than one night. And while I'd been preparing for a trip like this for more than a decade, it took until now to make it happen.

Thanks to my long time friend Paul Brasby for helping to finally make it happen. His work pulling together the route and laying the groundwork for us to have an unforgettable trip was impressive. I hope someday to be able to be the person who helps new friends discover their love of bikepacking, like Paul did for me.

Since Paul has been doing a great job of telling the stories about where we went and what we saw, I wanted to turn the spotlight toward the poignant lessons I learned during our nine day adventure. Some hard lessons came from my own failures, while others were learned by observing the three more experienced bikepackers with whom I was traveling.

Lesson 1 - Everything Has Its Place
(image by Matt Gersib)

1. Everything Has Its Place

In  the first few days of our journey, it became almost comical how often I would ask "where the heck is my ____ ?" Why? Because I didn't put things back where they came from, so finding anything on the first try was virtually impossible.

Not only was the confusion slowly making me crazy, but I was also becoming the joke of every morning as my compatriots wondered, "what's he going to lose next?"

One great example of this was the humble Bic lighter. I needed it twice daily to light my stove, so it should've been an easy thing to not misplace. Well, I ended up buying three new lighters along the way before I finally figured out that all I needed to do was put it back in the same place every time. Four lighters = a lot of redundancy.

By Day 5 or so, I was finally figuring out the organizational thing, so getting ready to roll in the morning became less stressful. 

Looking back on the trip, I've learned that the more I can standardize the places for everything, the easier my life will be on the road. Sleeping gear, tent, food, and clothes all have their own bag, making it easy to dial in on the general area. Small things like the lighter, spork, and bowl are in the same bag, same pocket. Not just sometimes . . . Every time.

Lesson 2 - Don't Pack Your Fears
(image by Matt Gersib)

2. Don't Pack Your Fears

Early in the planning for the Mammoth 450, Paul emailed me with some sage advice. "Don't pack your fears," he said. He also recommended that I test out my fully packed setup on a shorter trip to see what I use and what I can live without. Unfortunately, for a number of reasons that test trip never materialized, so I simply tried to not go off the deep end packing.

For a first effort, I didn't do bad. But after the trip, I made two piles of clothes and gear - the stuff I used and the stuff I didn't use. As it turns out, I packed pretty well on most fronts, but I overpacked both food and clothes. I could have trimmed about five pounds from my setup if I had been more realistic on both fronts.

In general, I found that I didn't use many of the casual, post-ride clothes I'd brought, instead opting for the same shorts and t-shirt pretty much every day. Versatility beats redundancy every time when it comes to bikepacking clothing.

As a result, in the future, I'll focus on packing clothing that isn't so cycling-specific that it couldn't be worn casually. No team kits or super tight jerseys. I do wear cycling shorts under my baggies, but that's my only cycling-specific clothing.

Lesson 3 - Everyone Has Challenges
(image by Jeff Bloom)

3. Everyone Has Challenges

On the 2026 Mammoth 450, nobody had smooth sailing the entire way. In fact, overcoming the challenges we faced along the way, both individually and collectively, is one of the things that brought us together as a group. We were stronger together than we were individually. 

For example, several in our group had tire problems, but we had two electric pumps to keep tires topped off whenever needed. It was no sweat because we weren't in a hurry.

My challenges were more personal, and I was able to benefit from Paulette's medical background when some health issues came up mid-trip. Her perspective helped give me the perspective and peace I needed to keep pushing forward. Bikepacking can be a humbling experience at times, so humility and empathy are valuable qualities when you're on the road, as they are in life.

Lesson 4 - Mother Nature Isn't Messing Around
(image by Matt Gersib)

4. Mother Nature Isn't Messing Around

One of the inevitable truths about bikepacking is that Mother Nature will make herself known on any trip. Sometimes that's a great thing, but sometimes it isn't. And in those challenging times, it's really just a matter of survival.

We had at least two of those "survival" moments in the early days of the Mammoth 450. 

On the morning of the second day of the trip, at Wellfleet Lake, an early morning thunderstorm dropped more than three inches of rain on our campground. Unbeknownst to us, we found ourselves in the middle of a flash flood situation. The water was attempting to cut a channel right through our campground, and my tent was right in the flood zone. 

After several tense hours huddled in our tents, the storm subsided and we ventured out. What we found was both amazing and concerning. A three foot deep erosion gash had been cut through the center of the parking lot. If we'd had been in a car, we wouldn't have been able to get out of the campground. My tent was now sitting under four inches of silt that the water had deposited. Everything was a mess, so it took us until after 1 pm to break camp and get onto the road. 

Which leads me to my next lesson . . . 

Lesson 5 - Be Flexible
(image by Jeff Bloom)

5. Be Flexible

When we left Wellfleet Lake, we knew our planned gravel route would be impassable due to the rain. So, we did the only thing we could responsibly do. We took a direct paved route to Mayville, our next town. As a result, we rode only 12 miles that day, instead of the nearly 50 miles we were scheduled to ride. 

While it was a bummer to not get to see that part of the route, we knew it was the only responsible decision we could make. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a big deal, and we kept moving forward.

There are only so many things you can control, so being able to roll with the punches and make the most of situations is an important part of making a trip fun for everyone. 

Lesson 6 - You'll Surprise Yourself
(image by Matt Gersib)

6. You'll Surprise Yourself

If you'd had told me before the trip that we'd have four straight days of rainy weather and I'd still be having fun, I'd have said you were crazy. But there I was, laughing off the rain and having a great time despite the challenges. I think a big part of this was the people I was with. We made the most of every day and found fun in the things we were experiencing together. 

I suspect this is an aspect of virtually any multi-day bikepacking trip. Going in, you really don't know what you're going to find out on the road. Those are the times when you find out what you're really made of.

Lesson 7 - Beauty Is Everywhere
(image by Paulette Kirby)

7. Beauty Is Everywhere

One of the best things about bikepacking, in my humble opinion, is the beauty you find out on the road. Beauty takes many forms. It may be the literal beauty of the landscapes, which we saw plenty of on the Mammoth 450. From vast canyons and wildlife to dramatic burn areas where the landscape is already starting to recover, we were privy to some amazing views along our route.

It could also be the beauty of generous people going out of the way to make our trip memorable. We had a lot of these "beautiful people" experiences on the Mammoth 450, too. From "Jerky Guy" Ryan, who gave us three pounds of deer jerky and beef sticks on Day 1, to Jeff's niece Autumn, who escorted us like rock stars around Eustis in her boyfriend's pickup, to the guy who gave us $100 at the 100th Meridian Museum in Cozad, we were treated with kindness, generosity, and respect at every turn. Total strangers often took the time to ask about our adventures. That was really cool. In fact, I think that may have been one of my favorite (and most surprising) parts of the trip. 

Lesson 8 - It's Better To Travel With Friends
(image by Paulette Kirby)

8. It's Better To Travel With Friends

Don't get me wrong, I love solo missions. But when I'm traveling by bike, it's definitely more fun to do it with friends. Prior to the Mammoth 450, I knew Paul and Jeff coming in, but had never met Paulette. After nine days of experiencing life on the bike with them, I knew each a whole lot better. And while each of us comes from a different background, within a couple of days we'd bonded and became a team, all focused on one goal - finishing the route. 

Being the least experienced bikepacker of the group, I knew I had plenty to learn. And Paul, Jeff, and Paulette gave me access to a depth of perspective I didn't have coming in. It also gave me the confidence to not be afraid in a lot of situations I'd have been fully scared of had I been traveling alone (like the Wellfleet Lake "incident"). 

Lesson 9 - Experience Is The Best Teacher
(image by Jeff Bloom)

9. Experience Is The Best Teacher

Sometimes the best way to learn is to just do it. Here's why:  I spent a decade "thinking about it" when it came to multi-day bikepacking trips. I bought all the bags and gear. There was nothing holding me back . . . except for myself. I'd gotten relatively comfortable with sub-24 hour overnighters, but I feared maybe I just wasn't cut out for longer trips. 

Well, I was wrong. All I needed to do was get my ass out the door and ride. On the road, I learned the answers to most, if not all, of the questions I pondered going in.

Now, I know I can do it. And so can you.

Lesson 10 - A Tough Day On The Bike Is Still A Great Day
(image by Jeff Bloom)

10. A Tough Day On The Bike Is Still A Great Day

I think most of you reading this will understand this 100%. I feel so fortunate for each of the challenges we faced along the way, because they simply served to make the high points of the trip even better.

Perhaps Willie Nelson said it best, "I can't wait to get on the road again." 

Amen.

2026 Mammoth 450 - Day 9

Last month, I wrote about a new backcountry bikepacking route in and around the Loess Canyons of Nebraska created by local legend Paul Brasby. See, Paul Brasby's Mammoth 450. At that time, Paul was out there with a group of friends taking on everything wrought by that route and the elements.

For an introduction to the 450 mile route and their planned itinerary, go to 2026 Mammoth 450 - The Plan.  For daily photo galleries, go to Day 1; Day 2; Day 3; Day 4; Day 5; Day 6; Day 7; Day 8.

_____________________________________________________________________

By Paul Brasby

The Plan for Day 9 (45 miles - Potter's Pasture to North Platte, Pal's Brewery)

A few miles of gravel, then a paved road will take you to Jeffery Reservoir for a beautiful lake view. Afterwards, you'll drop down to the Platte River Valley and head for North Platte. No water or re-supply opportunities available until Maxwell, one mile off route at a C-store - see map for locations. Once in North Platte, follow the bike path through town to Pal's Brewery to finish out your ride! Showers are available at the North Platte Rec Center, located at 1300 McDonald Road, 2.5 miles form Pal's Brewery. Shower fee is $1.

Day 9 of the Mammoth 450 . . . It was our last day! Potters to North Platte. What a great ride with amazing people Thank you all for coming!!

(image by Paulette Kirby)

(image by Matt Gersib)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Matt Gersib)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Matt Gersib)

(image by Paul Brasby)

2026 Mammoth 450 - Day 8

Last month, I wrote about a new backcountry bikepacking route in and around the Loess Canyons of Nebraska created by local legend Paul Brasby. See, Paul Brasby's Mammoth 450. At that time, Paul was out there with a group of friends taking on everything wrought by that route and the elements.

For an introduction to the 450 mile route and their planned itinerary, go to 2026 Mammoth 450 - The Plan.  For daily photo galleries, go to Day 1; Day 2; Day 3; Day 4; Day 5; Day 6; Day 7.

_____________________________________________________________________

By Paul Brasby

The Plan for Day 8 (43 miles - unloaded day loop from Potter's Pasture)

Leave your gear behind and ride light! A challenging, but beautiful loop awaits. With three watershed crossings, a trestle bridge sighting, the challenging Grunden Hills, and Government Pocket Road. Water is limited on route, so plan for it! There's a horse tank with clean water out of a pipe - see map for locations. No re-supply opportunities on route, but a few farm houses is running low on water. Camping fee is $10/tent.

Day 8 of the Mammoth 450 . . .  Potters to Potters.

An unloaded loop ride. Trail Angel of the day was Kyle from Gothenburg who rode with us all day. Thanks for joining in on the fun, Kyle. It was great riding with you again.

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Matt Gersib)

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Kyle Vincent)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Matt Gersib)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Paul Brasby)

2026 Mammoth 450 - Day 7

Last month, I wrote about a new backcountry bikepacking route in and around the Loess Canyons of Nebraska created by local legend Paul Brasby. See, Paul Brasby's Mammoth 450. At that time, Paul was out there with a group of friends taking on everything wrought by that route and the elements.

For an introduction to the 450 mile route and their planned itinerary, go to 2026 Mammoth 450 - The Plan.  For daily photo galleries, go to Day 1; Day 2; Day 3; Day 4; Day 5; Day 6.

_____________________________________________________________________

By Paul Brasby

The Plan for Day 7 (58 miles - Gothenburg to Potter's Pasture Recreational Area, New Camp)

A good day of canyon riding with big vista views, two watershed crossings, canal roads, and a stop at the Depot Winery for gourmet pizza and drinks for a late lunch or early dinner. Afterwards, you'll ride 10 or so miles to Potter's Pasture for the night. Water is available on route at Farnham C-store, or City Park, or Depot Winery - see map for locations. Campground amenities available, including power and outhouses. Polar bear showers from a garden hose are also available. Camping fee is $10/tent.

Day 7 of the Mammoth 450 . . . Gothenburg to Potter's Pasture.

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Matt Gersib)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Jeff Bloom)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)

(image by Paul Brasby)