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.
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.
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.
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.
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 . . .
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.
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.
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.
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").
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.
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.
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