Commitment Beats Conditioning

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way

Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown

Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of living in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain

You are young and life is long, and there is time to kill today

And then one day you find, ten years have got behind you

No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

Time, Richard William Wright, Nicholas Berkeley Mason, David Jon Gilmour, George Water Rogers (1973). 

Another long, winding road leading to the next pass on the Great Divide.
Plenty of time to build physical, mental, and emotional fitness.
(image by Paul Brasby)

You're thinking about riding the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. You study the route and prepare body, bike, and gear. You consider a time frame, which somehow pushes forward. Again. Next month. OK, next year. You'll be better prepared next year. Yeah, next year.

And so it goes. Time slips away. You missed the starting gun.

Newsflash: You will never be ready for the rigors of such an endeavor. Never.

Go. Just go.

You will ride yourself into better shape, if you allow your body and mind time to adapt.

A challenging 4 mile heft-a-bike up Lava Mountain.
Even here, maybe especially here, commitment beats conditioning.
(image by Paul Brasby)

The physical ability to ride a loaded mountain bike 8-10 hours a day, day after day after day, on rough roads through remote backcountry, with certain adversity of unpredictable kind and duration, cannot be built on in-town bike commutes, once-a-week long rides, regular group rides, or indoor trainer sessions. Not even an Overnighter or two or ten.

It can only be built by riding a loaded mountain bike 8-10 hours a day, day after day after day, on rough roads through remote backcountry, with certain adversity of unpredictable kind and duration.

Likewise, the mental and emotional ability to ride a loaded mountain bike 8-10 hours a day, day after day after day, on rough roads through remote backcountry, with certain adversity of unpredictable kind and duration, cannot be built by watching YouTube videos, reading journals, or attending clinics. Or even riding through an occasional thunderstorm.

It can only be built by riding a loaded mountain bike 8-10 hours a day, day after day after day, on rough roads through remote backcountry, with certain adversity of unpredictable kind and duration.

Crawling up the final pitch of Fleecer Ridge on Day 11, I gather myself in a lonely sliver of shade.
I'd like to say this picture was staged.
(image by Paul Brasby)

That doesn't mean to start a bikepacking trip unprepared.

In the long run, you will have more fun bikepacking 1) the better you are conditioned to long, hard efforts on the bike; 2) the better you select and maintain your bike and gear; and 3) the more you understand the route and country that's ahead of you.

However, none of that develops the physical fitness, mental acuity, or emotional resilience required to successfully complete such an adventure. None.

That can only be built by doing it.

The prior day's monsoon created these unrideable roads out of Pie Town.
You never know what's ahead. Embrace the uncertainty.

How, then?

Set a date certain, commit to it, prepare the best you can, and go. Just go.

Commit to the ride. Commit to the date. Commit to the preparation. Then just go. Preparation will almost certainly be short of your targets. Maybe far short. Go anyway. 

A stubborn, attentive, patient rider will build the requisite physical fitness, mental acuity, and emotional resilience during the ride, if you allow your body and mind time to adapt.

You will likely need to re-set your concept of speed and distance. This adventure is a different beast. Start slowly. Gentle pace. Gentle mileage. Far slower and far shorter than that to which you are accustomed. For at least a week. Pay attention to body and bike. Attend to even seemingly minor aches and noises. 

Every day, give yourself a chance to ride the next day. Then ride the next day. 

More specifically, give your body a chance to adapt to the new strain of hours and hours and hours, day after day after day, on the bike over difficult, variable terrain under unpredictable conditions.

Contact points like bottom, hands, and feet, as well as less obvious areas like neck, shoulders, and back, need time to adapt and time to recover each night. Similarly, connective tissues like tendons and ligaments are susceptible to inflammation when stress loads suddenly increase. Given sufficient time and attention, each night's recovery builds the body for the next day. Done right, you don't wear down, but actually grow stronger over time. The human body is amazing, if you let it be.

Equally important, give your mind a chance to adapt to the new strains of unpredictable weather, variable road conditions, route navigation and detours, uncertain water and food re-supply, unknown camping spots, spotty communications with family, surprise mechanical breakdowns, skittish domestic and wild animals, forest fires, flash floods, and a mind-boggling array of unknown unknowns that can crop up at any time.

A gradual buildup also allows one to develop heightened situational awareness and solid decision-making when merely tired, rather than being thrust into doing so when utterly exhausted. That alone can be the difference between riding through adversity and bailing out.

Start slow and short. Commit to it. You will be able to add effort and distance over time. You will adapt.

But start.

Time waits for no one.

Time, Pink Floyd (1973).

Addendum from my blog post The Great Divide - Top 10 (2022). No amount of preparation prepared me for the first 600 miles of my Great Divide ride.

The start of this ride is so hard, I don't know if I'll ever cross Montana. As I tell Paul, I do not want to be That Guy who said he was riding his bike across the country but never left the first state. I struggle for 12 days before starting to figure out how to balance day-after-day-after-day effort and recovery. The sheer elation of reaching the Idaho border is exceeded only at the Mexican border.

And then this from my blog post The Great Divide - Believe (2022).

Working through a difficult first two weeks, I eventually found my rhythm and rode stronger, longer, higher, and faster as the weeks passed, even as the roads and conditions deteriorated significantly in New Mexico. At the end, I believed I could have continued to ride even stronger for many, many weeks.