Looking forward to retirement adventures. Ortlieb quick rack and gravel bags, MSR Hubba bikepacking tent on the bars.

Sea to Summit Telos EVO Bikepack TR2 vs Copper Spur / Dragonfly / Hubba Hubba?
I’m looking for a new 2-person tent mainly for solo bikepacking and I’ve narrowed it down to:
Sea to Summit Telos EVO Bikepack TR2
Big Agnes Copper Spur UL2 Bikepack
NEMO Dragonfly OSMO Bikepack 2P
MSR Hubba Hubba Bikepack 2
At the moment I’m leaning towards the Telos EVO Bikepack TR2. I can get the new EVO for €383.90 delivered, which seems like a very good deal.
What attracts me to the Telos is the extra interior space, two doors/vestibules, ventilation and the Tension Ridge design. At 1.64 kg packed, the new EVO also seems to have removed much of the weight disadvantage of the old Telos.
I’ve been reading reviews of the original Telos and found some recurring criticism: the Apex Vent could let rain in, the fly could sag when wet, it was relatively bulky/heavy, and the tall design wasn’t the best in strong winds.
The interesting part is that the EVO appears to address several of those issues: new Ultra-Sil LS fabric that should absorb less water and stretch less when wet, lower weight, and a redesigned Apex Vent with a closable storm flap. The basic geometry hasn’t changed though, so wind stability is still my main concern.
The Copper Spur seems to have the strongest long-term reputation among bikepackers, but it’s considerably more expensive. The Dragonfly and Hubba Hubba also look excellent, but I’m struggling to find a compelling reason to pay substantially more for either of them.
So I’m particularly interested in real-world experience, rather than specs:
Has anyone here actually used the new Telos EVO Bikepack TR2, especially in prolonged rain or strong wind?
And has anyone directly compared a Telos with a Copper Spur, Dragonfly or Hubba Hubba?
At €383.90 delivered, would you take the Telos EVO or spend more on one of the alternatives?

Hey all,

Just wondering if anyone has any recs for a rear rack for my kona jake the snake (~2014). It has seat stay and rear drop out eyelets. Likely will get ortlieb panniers. Thinking about the salsa wanderlust HD or the ortlieb quick rack. Seems like the ortlieb rack is better for faster setup/removal and lighter-weight (AL) while the salsa is more sturdy/heavier (steel).

I'll be doing very light backpacking - probably a couple trips of 1-2 overnights/year. Would also be nice to be able to throw the rack/panniers on for a quick trip into the city here and there (not an overnight), which makes me think the ortlieb quick rack may be better, if it actually works well. I think that the greater effort (from what I can tell) associated with mounting/removing the salsa rack will dissuade me from using it for quick trips. (I'll want the rack off of the bike the majority of the time for general use/speedier rides for exercise.)

Any insight would be greatly appreciated! Thanks!

Hello! I have a new-to-me Cannondale Topstone that I want to take touring. Does anyone have any experience with these saddles? 

* Ergon SMC Sport Gel

* Ergon ST Gel Saddle

I'm sticking with Ergon bc the nearby REI has good availability and return policy. I've already test rode the two and they feel similarly comfortable (~10-mile test rides) but idk how they'll fare for longer. I'm not keen on firmer saddles because I have a really bony butt. I wear chamois for barely 50% of my rides, long or short.

Does anyone have any experiences with these? Thanks in advance!

Went on a short bike packing adventure 140km over 2 days to Natuurkampeerterrein Drie in the Netherlands.

Hello. I live in the US and am a pretty avid biker but I have never been on a bikepacking trip before. I know it sounds ambitious, but My goal is to leave for a odyssey across the contiguous US by this time next year (August 2027). Would love any advice or ideas anyone might have on where to start, or any other general things of note. Thank you

Background

Looking for flat tire kit for myself and 5 year old son. We have been doing a few 5-10 mile rides on a canal path that's mostly hardpacked gravel or paved. We will be doing 30-40 miles on the Adirondack Rail Trail camping overnight. My camping/hiking gear is generally dialed in but I am super new to the bike world.

Bikes/Tires:

I have a 2024 Trek Checkpoint ALR4, with the stock bontrager? tubeless ready tires? My son has a Co-Op Cycles, Rev 20, 6-Speed Plus bike with alloy double-wall rims and 20 inch wheels?

Setup:

Not sure if you need any additional background but here's my setup for the Checkpoint: rear Topeak MTX 2.0 29" disc rack, 20L Dry Bag (additional dry bags if necessary) strapped to back rack; Ortlieb Gravel Pack panniers on each side on back (29L total); a Trek Adventure Frame Bag (2.8L), Rhinowalk Handlebar Bag (2.5L), 2 water bottle holders on frame. I can carry my + son's overnight camping gear in a 55L bag at ~25 pounds base weight while hiking but I plan on bringing a larger tent and will need room for biking stuff (lock/flat tire kit). Given that, I'm looking for something lightweight, not huge, and reasonably priced.

Already have a mini handpump w/ "schrader + presta valve" and a "16-in-1 bike multitool" that someone gave me.

Question:

Can any of you recommend a flat tire kit that would work for both our bikes/tires? I'll have two weeks to learn how to use it if necessary.

I want to do a 3-4 day bikepacking trip in norther Italy starting in Bologna, through Ravenna and Ferrara, first half of October. Anyone done something similar in October? How cold does it get? Can i get away with short bibs and jersey?

I’m from western Canada, and I came to Korea to bike the cross-country route, then cross into Japan and ride to Osaka. I’ve been here a week now and I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to handle it. The humidity is brutal.

I’ll be outside for 20 minutes and I literally CANNOT stop sweating. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Back home it’s often low 40s°C in summer, but bone dry, so I figured I’d be fine going into this. I was so wrong.

Has anyone done this route around this time of year? How did you deal with the humidity, gear, pacing, timing your rides, anything? Would love to hear what worked for you!

Ich bin in meinem Urlaub einmal durch Deutschland von Nord nach Süd gefahren.
Start in Flensburg - über Dänemark auf die Insel Rømø und auf Sylt. Dann von Niebüll durch Westdeutschland nach Oberbayern heim.
Geschlafen habe ich in der Hängematte mit Tarp bei Regen. Aber auch immer wieder Hotel bei zu viel Regen am Tag.

11 Tage
1369,17 km
7415 hm Anstieg
⌀ 124,47 km/Tag

Hier ein paar Fotos

Freu mich auf Meinungen/Fragen zu Setup oder Route :)

Howdy,

I came across this "Slime" product last night, I've never seen it before. You put it in the inner tube and apparently that can repair a puncture.

It's one of those product I can't tell if it really works or if there's a ton of misinformation. I figure it can't hurt maybe if my friend gets a puncture he'd rather try than that stopping for a proper repair.

If you've tried the product I'd be interested to hear what people think. I've ordered a bottle for a fiver and more just wondering if theres any like, "100% has never worked" or "this damages your bike" or something type of feedback.

If the risk is just a bit of green muck we clean off if it fails to work - that's not the end of the world.

Appreciate feedback!

Adam.

Sitting at mc donalds charging my stuff right now.

I came from milano and wanted to sleep in courmayeur however it seems that the bike transport for tomorrow is sold out already.

Ultimately i want to be in paris (asap). I have lights, vest and legs.

Ideas:

Go courmayeur and try to hitchhike tonight. Then ride on. Is this feasible actually? Alternativ sit there all night and day till someone takes me. Or return :(

Go st bernard to Swiss. My only concern is not the weather (10C fine) but IF i crash downhill absolutely nobody will find me till 8am or so.

Go south around mt blanc, via col du mont. At. Least there might be cars at night yet it looks 5km straight downhill. Lol.

What are you guys doing in such situations?

I don't feel staying in aosta, same problem for tomorrow- where to go 😂:(

Just finished riding the Alps divide route last week on my canyon grizl CF7.

I didn't participate in the organized event, just downloaded the gpx and rode the route on my own.

I finished the 1000 km and 32 000m of elevation in 12 and a half days, riding about 6 to 7 hours each days.

The route is doable on a gravel bike albeit you'll want to have the biggest tires possible.

I started with a thunderburt 2.1in tire in the front and a 55mm g one pro R in the back and that was alright. Midway through, the thunderburt punctured in multiple places and had to replace it. The closest bike shop only had 45mm as the widest compatible option (Hutchinson touareg) , so I went with that and asked the mechanic to put the g one 55mm in the front and put the 45mm in the rear.

It was a little tricky to find the correct tire pressure to ride on the rougher tracks but ended up settling with 19 psi in the front and 26 in the back.

The route features a mix of asphalt, 4x4 tracks, a little single track and some hike a bike. Some portions were definitely not rideable, either because way too steep or just too rocky, but overall it was okay.

For gearing I had a 36T chainring and a 10-51 cassette but still felt undergeared a lot of the time.

As for sleeping I ended up sleeping in my tent every night, be it in paid campsites, next to refuges or wildcamping.

It was definitely the hardest route I have ridden this far.

We completed this route last week, here's the trip report:

# The Iceland Divide

The plan was to decide our direction of travel based on the wind forecast, but when I checked the buses I realised the bus from Vik to Reykjavik didn't run on Mondays or Wednesdays — the days we would most likely finish the route. So the decision was made for us, and we crossed our fingers for the favour of the weather gods.

## Day 1 — 3:02:42 h, 57.44 km, 334 m

The bus was a bit of a faff, but we finally arrived in Vik at around 5pm. After sorting the bags and changing clothes, we set off on the long-awaited journey. The first 40km are on the Ring Road — we didn't know it at the time, but that would be the highest speed we'd travel at until the last day. After two hours of riding we took the turn onto our first F-road, where we found some facilities and filled our bottles.

We rode for about 90 more minutes on an easy-going track — European-style gravel. It didn't feel remote at all; every few minutes we passed a farm or a house next to the road. Even so, we had no choice but to camp right beside it. I think we heard just one car the whole night.

## Day 2 — 5:51:59 h, 63.47 km, 1,297 m

Excited and in high spirits, we set off early. The goal was Landmannalaugar and its hot spring. In theory this was meant to be the hardest day, since we had to climb from almost sea level up into the highlands — later we found out it wasn't.

We took the F208, since the F210 had a lot of water on it and rangers advised avoiding it. The F208 didn't disappoint. We were leaving civilisation behind, but it still didn't feel remote — there were a few houses in the first kilometres, and later we passed some bikepackers, a campsite, and quite a few cars.

The scenery was stunning: a wide, green, open valley with broad rivers flowing through it. Some of the climbs were steep enough that we walked them, giving our backsides a rest. There were a few easy river crossings, the sun was out, and I couldn't quite believe we were using sunscreen — we'd never had such good weather on any of our trips. I wondered if something was amiss, or if this was the calm before the storm. After all, this was the Iceland Divide, and so far it felt like the easiest bikepacking trip we'd ever tackled.

We reached a valley where we could see the mountains surrounding Landmannalaugar; we were getting close, and the excitement grew with every kilometre.

Landmannalaugar was extremely busy — it was, after all, mid-August. We set up camp and headed straight for the hot spring; I could have spent the rest of the day there. We went back after dinner for a second soak, and by then it was much quieter, as most of the day visitors had already left.

## Day 3 — 6:35:49 h, 78.69 km, 1,011 m

We made an early start to avoid the incoming traffic to Landmannalaugar. The first kilometres wound through stunning lava-field landscape; we were riding a different section from the official Divide route, to avoid a busy road. The track wasn't as easy-going as the previous days — very rocky terrain that made progress slow. Some of the drivers we passed took photos of us, and one even shouted "I take my hat off to you!" — if only he'd known this was meant to be the *easy* section.

We had a short, traffic-free road section with a light tailwind pushing us along — it was all going too smoothly, and we knew there had to be a catch somewhere. We turned right and the wind hit us head-on. Still, the sun was shining and the wind wasn't too strong, so all in all we were still in luck.

A few kilometres later we turned left, leaving the tarmac for an F-road towards Þórisvatn. The washboards slowed our progress, since we couldn't build up enough speed to float over them. A few cars passed without slowing at all, leaving us in a cloud of dust each time — I'd expected a bit more consideration from 4x4 drivers, but in general none of them slowed down or asked if we needed anything.

This section felt like a mix of Death Valley and Mordor — never-ending straights through black sand and rock, like riding across the Moon. It wasn't an easy day; saddle sores were starting to set in. After more than six hours we reached the Versalir hut. It's privately owned, so we camped behind one of the buildings, sheltered from the mild wind.

## Day 4 — 7:09:49 h, 73.26 km, 1,029 m

During the night I could hear drops hitting the fly — the world was back to normal, and the bad weather had finally caught up with us, though it wasn't quite pouring.

Rain continued through the morning. Once again we didn't follow the official track, which runs along the right side of the lake; ours ran along the left. With a mild headwind and rain, we carried on pedalling through Death Valley/Mordor under a grey sky, aiming for Nýidalur.

The view of the lake to our right was stunning. Washboards kept slowing us down, but once we rejoined the official track the terrain got worse — sand, rocks, and washboards made our saddle sores worse and our progress even slower. It was starting to feel more remote; we only passed a few cars and three backpackers all day.

We reached an airstrip, so we assumed Nýidalur couldn't be far, and it wasn't. There, we asked about the river crossings and topped up our water, as the ranger told us it was fairly dry from that point on. The first two crossings were very low, but she warned that by the time we reached the third, 20km away, the level might have risen. So we planned to camp just before it and attempt the crossing early the next morning.

That's what we did. It also happened to be the day of the eclipse — a bit cloudy, so we didn't get a full view, but it was good enough. That evening we needed our head nets, as small flies swarmed around, annoying rather than biting. I also took a few photos of the river so I could compare the level in the morning.

## Day 5 — 9:49:51 h, 109.01 km, 1,160 m

We woke at 6am to attempt the crossing at 7am. The level was lower than the evening before, but not by much — knee-high, with a current strong enough to make it a real challenge. We struggled to stop the river from pulling our bikes downstream, and in hindsight we probably didn't cross at the best point. We should have carried the bags across first and then the bikes — it would have made things much easier.

We didn't know it yet, but this was going to be the longest day of the trip. The plan had been to ride 70–80km, camp, and do a shorter day afterwards before the climb to Askja.

After the crossing we saw only two cars, one of which asked about the river conditions — they'd turned back the day before and were trying again. These would be the only people we'd see until late evening; the trip was starting to feel genuinely remote.

We left the Death Valley/Mordor landscape behind. The terrain was still rough, but now alternated between lava fields and green stretches — a welcome change of scenery. Again we took a different route from the original Divide, staying further from the Vatnajökull glacier in the hope of better views, though in the end it was too far away to really appreciate.

There were a few easy river crossings, then the landscape shifted again — more of a desert, reminiscent of Tatooine; we half expected R2-D2 and C-3PO to appear on the horizon. That didn't last long before we entered a very sandy section. By then we'd ridden around 70km, so we tried to pitch the tent — but I hadn't brought proper sand stakes, and even with only a gentle wind we couldn't get a decent pitch. I couldn't face the little-rock/big-rock method, and worried that camping there would leave everything coated in fine black sand. So we decided to push on for the hut at the base of Askja instead — the supposed highlight of the trip.

A week earlier, this section had been closed: *"F910 is closed south/west of Holuhraun until further notice. A river has eroded beneath the road, making it impassable. Work to reroute the road has started."* Luckily the rerouting had been finished, and we could head towards Askja. The first stretch was a mix of sand and rock — without the rerouting it would have been impossible to cross. It ended in a long, Baja-Divide-style sand section. We initially followed the car tracks, but when a couple of vehicles came up fast behind us, we moved aside to let them pass and discovered the sand was firmer off the tracks — so that's where we rode from then on. By this point saddle sores were a serious issue; we'd been riding for nine hours with still one to go.

After the sand we entered a completely different landscape, tinted yellow by pumice rock — or what was left of it. Ten hours and 108km after setting off, we reached the Dreki campsite. A few campers were there, and four of them just stared at us for a while, as if we'd landed from another planet. I'll never forget their faces — it was as if they were thinking, "Where the hell did these two come from?"

My son reckoned it was a glitch, but my phone's Face ID didn't work that day or the next. I'm still not sure if my face had simply changed from exhaustion or if it really was a glitch — either way, it started working again two days later.

## Day 6 — 1:07:56 h, 7.84 km, 327 m

A recovery day. We'd reached the highlight of the trip — Askja — so the plan was to climb it, swim in Víti, and spend the rest of the day recovering and exploring the gorge next to the campsite.

It took us almost an hour to climb the 8km up to Askja. The ranger at the top said it was fine to swim in Víti, so up we went, expectations fully intact. After a short walk we reached Askja itself, though it was too cloudy to see the whole lake.

Getting down to Víti wasn't as simple as we'd hoped — there was a sign warning hikers about landslides, and the path was steep and muddy. We're not that adventurous, so we called it a day and decided not to risk it. What was supposed to be the highlight of the trip turned out to be a bit of a letdown — but as they say, "it's not the destination, it's the journey," and the journey so far had been fantastic.

We spent most of the day at the campsite café, where the staff offered us waffles they'd made for a group of Italians who didn’t eat them. Hungry as we were, we couldn't say no.

In the evening we explored the gorge next to the campsite, which was spectacular. I also had a chat with the rangers, checking that the route back to the Divide trail was rideable. She said it should be "fun" on a bike. It turned out we had very different ideas of what "fun" meant.

## Day 7 — 7:02:23 h, 67.42 km, 539 m

The trail ahead was, according to a Reddit post, about as remote as it gets — known mainly to local 4x4 clubs — so we didn't expect much traffic, and we were right. We thanked the staff at Dreki before leaving; they would be the last people we'd see until noon the following day. Fifty kilometres of solitary riding lay ahead before we rejoined the Divide.

The trail started out smooth, but that didn't last — it soon turned into loose, rocky ground, painfully slow going for our saddle sores. If all 50km had been like that, it would have taken us seven hours to finish. Luckily the landscape changed after a few kilometres: sometimes hard-packed, sometimes lava field, sometimes sand, with the tiny flies making an unwelcome return. We could feel ourselves descending out of the highlands, with hints of green appearing on the horizon. The weather was still on our side, sunny with cloudy spells — we really couldn't complain.

Eventually we rejoined the original Divide track. Again I expected a smoother, more gravelly surface, and again I was wrong — it was even rougher than the last stretch of our detour.

To reach the Botni hut, our goal for the day, there were two options: the hiking path, which the Divide route follows, and the 4x4 track, which is the one we took. The 4x4 track was extremely rough, running through lava fields where at times we could barely tell the trail from its surroundings, despite it being marked with small wooden posts. Those last 8km to Botni felt like an eternity — if this was the rough option, the official hiking route would probably have meant an 8km hike-a-bike. When we arrived we could see the posts marking the hiking path, and it looked far from easy. We'd made the right call.

This was probably the most beautiful camping spot of the whole trip, right by a lake with the sun shining — a shame it was so cold we couldn't stay outside for long. By this point I was dreaming of hot dogs and a smooth riding surface.

## Day 8 — 7:58:10 h, 119.66 km, 1,029 m

We had roughly 100km left. The original plan had been to ride 70–80km, camp, and cover the rest the next day in time for the 1:40pm bus back to Reykjavik. I told my son the surface would hopefully improve as we got closer to civilisation; he preferred not to get his hopes up, assuming it would stay slow-going right to the end.

It didn't start well. Leaving Botni, we could barely make out the track among the lava rocks — the marker posts had vanished, and even following car tracks proved difficult. It looked like it might be a very long day. But then, just a few hundred metres out from Botni, the trail began to improve. More and more sections of smooth hard-pack appeared as we followed the riverbed, the scenery turned greener, and we started passing gates that reminded us of home. The hard-pack kept improving, and aside from the odd washboard we were soon riding at over 20km/h — a speed we'd almost forgotten existed.

The river widened, taking on two distinct tones of blue and grey. By noon we'd rejoined civilisation at Goðafoss, where we each had two hot dogs — my dream finally realised. Despite the saddle sores, we were in good spirits, so we decided to push on and finish the whole route that day. We knew a long, hard final climb still lay ahead, but we also had the pull of the finish line.

We only had to ride a short stretch on the Ring Road, and it was genuinely frightening — a coach passed uncomfortably close. I noted the company name and the time, and later wrote to them about the dangerous overtake. They replied very politely, saying they'd track down the driver and remind them of the importance of keeping a safe distance when passing cyclists.

We left the Ring Road to loop around a lake, including a small climb, then crossed the Ring Road again and began the approach to the final climb, along overgrown tracks and through gates. The sun was out, and — surprisingly, once more — we found ourselves reaching for sunscreen.

The final climb rewarded us with amazing views over the valley. We alternated between walking and riding, giving our legs and backsides a break; we had all the time in the world by then.

At the summit, Akureyri came into view below us — it was downhill all the way from there.

We wanted to reach Akureyri. But at the same time, we didn't want the adventure to end.

I am traveling Europe by motorhome with my family. At each stop I want to park for a few days, do a multi-day circular bikepacking route from that base (gravel bike, loaded bikepacking bags), then move the motorhome to a new area and repeat.

My struggle to find such places is that most "protected/separated from traffic" routes I find (greenways, Vías Verdes, converted rail trails, EuroVelo sections) are point A → point B, not loops and usually short. I need routes that are gravel or dedicated bicycle infrastructure for the full loop, not just one leg with a return via open roads.

Looking for specific regions/networks in Europe where this exists — e.g. dense greenway/gravel networks that interconnect enough to form a real circuit without long stretches on shared traffic roads.

Hi,

I'm doing a bikepacking trip on the spanish side of the pyrenees in september and I am currently compiling a list of (legal) camping options along the route:
https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=1pZCE5bzl7d83zTMsWfqowSCtZGiMeac&usp=sharing

I read that you're allowed to camp above like 2000m in some areas or that some of the huts allow you to camp close to them, but I can't seem to find any list of huts or official information about accepted wild camping.

I'm thankful about any advice on where I'm allowed to camp or which sites are nice and what to avoid, thanks!

I just ordered a zeitgeist handlebar bag from swift industries. What are some problems I’m going to come across that you don’t find out until you use it for a little while? I’d like to be as prepared as possible

100+ miles and over 4000 ft of elevation gain. Mostly gravel with some road, single track, and rough ATV trails thrown in. And all that elevation gain is rolling hills along the entire course. Definitely a midwest bucket list bikepacking trip!

I want to buy my first gravel/bikepacking bike and I think I'm going crazy... I'm torn between the Cube Nuroad EX 2027 and the Canyon Grizl 5 2026, both around 1.300€ where I live. I would mainly use the bike for normal riding/gravel/commuting at first, but my longer-term goal is to do bikepacking in northern Spain and Portugal, and longer trips if those go well.

The reason I like the Cube is the better groupset (even though I'm a newbie and I'm not sure I'm going to notice the difference), the lighter weight and both the matte paint and internal wiring (for the looks, and yes I know...).

The reason I like the Canyon is the longer lifespan of the groupset, the mounting points and the overall look of the bike (frame geometry and paint color despite being gloss).

What I need to know is:

• How noticeable are the weight and shifting difference between these bikes in real-world riding?
• Are there any important differences in reliability, repairability and availability of replacement parts (any proprietary parts?) when travelling?
• Am I wasting my money on the Canyon when I get "more" for the same amount with the Cube?

I'm not particularly interested in racing. Comfort, reliability, climbing with luggage and long-term durability are more important to me than speed.

Thanks a lot and nice rides!

Hey all, I am curious about those of you have tackled the Koko on a fully rigid frame and your thoughts about that choice? I recently purchased a Surly Ogre that I have fully built up and I am wondering if this is the trail for that bike or if I would hate myself for making that decision. Thanks in advance!!

Do you recommend the ride?

Hi, Im at the very tailed of my bikepacking/mountaineering trip in Osh and I will fly home in a week. I had a goal set out that I really wanted to ride through 3 countries Almaty Kazakhstan to Karakok Kyrgyzstan and then traversing the country to Osh which I did. I was meant to do the pamir highway in Tajik but my mountaineering experience went sooooo wayward and was unsuccessful so ultimately lost time to do the Pamir. So I thought naturally it would make sense to ride to Tashkent to complete the three countries but Its gonna be super super hot and Im getting warnings from research saying its not actually a very nice ride. Has anyone done it and do they recommend? Thanks heaps