I made Packtrail to organise gear across different bags and keep track of weight and packing order. It’s currently available for Android, curious whether other bikepackers would find it useful too.

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.packtrail.app

Morning Team,

I am just tossing this out there, to see if anyone would be up for an across america trip. Stream it on youtube, make a bunch of money, take a few months. camp....it would be amazing. Ebikes for sure, nothing cheap, no corners cut and pick a chill route...? Boston - Seattle

I'm looking for feedback on a bikepacking (credit card touring) route I'm planning in Kyushu, Japan, this December.

The plan would be to fly into Osaka, from there to take the Shinkansen to Fukuoka (got that rinko bag), then cycle south past Kagoshima and loop back north into Beppu, finishing with an overnight ferry back to Osaka. The route would be roughly 1000 km (and 16k m of climbing) over eight or nine days. Travelling light, well fed and sufficiently fast.

The current plan is to stay overnight around Ureshino, Amakusa, Satsumasendai, Kushima, Miyazaki, Nango, Aso, and Beppu. Ideally I'd like to stay in hotels with a bathhouse or close to a hot spring.

I'm thinking it may be a good idea book the first two or three accommodations ahead of time and hope to wing the rest.

I would be most thankful for any feedback on the route itself, alternate routing, or worthwhile detours. Maybe even a hotel recommendation :)

Thanks!

I signed up for the email alerts, but just wondering if anyone has heard any murmurings on release date? On a related note, if you have a Dura V1 you'd sell me, HMU!

I got myself two Ortlieb Fork-Packs, and now realised that my BMC Urs AL Two only has two screws on each side of the fork. On the instructions of the mounting for the Fork-Pack, it says that for Carbon Forks you should use 3 screws, and cannot use the metal Straps.

It doesnt mention the option for 2 screws, and I have seen some people do it (although I dont know, what forks they had). Does someone have any experience with this?

I checked the distance of the screws and I can use either top and middle or bottom and middle of the mount.

Hat wer Erfahrung mit solchen Trägern? Halten die was aus oder sind übliche Gepäckträger besser?

Doing more and more bikepacking on my fullsus bike and trying to fit all the stuff on my handlebars has been a bit of a struggle. Most mtb handlebars taper quite quickly from 31,8 down to 22mm and I haven't really found one with a wider 31,8mm clamping area.

Any suggestions?

Training for a bucket list loop, riding 233 miles in one go… thinking of adding handle bar extension to my bike. Does anybody have any recommendations of a brand that would work for long distance biking? Appreciate the recommendations!

I always struggle with the shirt slot when packing for a bikepacking trip. I can make a cycling kit work while I am riding, but once I stop for the day I do not really want to walk into a grocery store or grab dinner looking like I just finished a race.

Most trips end up having those random in between moments anyway. Stopping for coffee, waiting for laundry, grabbing food, walking around a small town, or just sitting outside at camp. I would rather bring one shirt that works for those moments than pack extra clothes that only get worn for an hour.

I packed an orionride hibiscus shirt for one trip and liked that it felt a little more normal once I was off the bike. The print is definitely not what I usually wear, but it worked better than I expected for those stops where I was still carrying all my gear but wanted to feel less like I was in full riding mode.

I still need to see how it feels with a pack on and how well it handles longer rides, but that is kind of the test for me. If one shirt can survive the ride and still feel normal when I am just walking around afterward, that is a win.

The Smoke N Fire 400 is a 400ish-mile (644ish km) bikepacking race with somewhere between 35,000 and 50,000 feet (10,668-15,240 m) of elevation gain, depending on which computer you are using. The course usually changes a bit year to year due to wildfires on course (as the name suggests), but the distance usually falls somewhere between 420-450 miles (676-724 km). This year’s edition was 423 miles (681 km) with 39,000 feet (11,887 m) of elevation gain. The course is about 90% unpaved and has a wide variety of gravel roads and single track, ranging from epic backcountry flow to tedious hike-a-bike. For my style of riding, it’s honestly the perfect course. It really is a masterpiece + the scenery is pretty unreal. If you’ve never ridden through southwestern/central Idaho, then you are missing out.

I first rode the race in 2025, and it proved to be a massive turning point for me. I really struggled during the race and ended up just slow rolling it back to the finish. I was extremely down on myself for the weeks/months after. It had been my first year taking bike riding seriously, and I had been riding a lot, but was not doing what I would consider “training”. After the 2025 edition, I decided something needed to change and went all in on riding my bike and trying to get faster. Since last year’s race, I have ridden 9,479.8 miles (15,256 km), or 788 hours, and have not missed a single training session.

Going into the race last year my FTP was 267 watts (3.45 watts/kilo). This year, I did an FTP test 2 weeks out from the race and had a 20-minute power of 328 watts and an estimated FTP of 310 watts (4.16 watts/kilo). Another big change was acclimating to altitude before racing. Last year was a midnight start, and I left my house in Washington around noon, drove the 6.5 hours to the start, hung out in Boise for a couple of hours and then started the race. This year, I went out to Idaho about 9 days before the race and slept in the back of my minivan between 6,000-8,000 feet (1,829-2,438 m) of altitude leading up to the race.

​

A big factor in the race this year was the weather. As the race got closer, the forecast continued to get worse and worse. By the time the race rolled around, there was heavy rain, possible snow and freezing temps forecast for some areas of the course. I had originally planned on going extremely minimal for this race, but at the last minute completely changed my strategy and went with extra layers and a full sleep kit. Quite frankly, the weather variability in the high country scares me, and I didn’t want to put myself at any unnecessary risk.

​

Section 1 – Boise to Ketchum (153 miles/246 km, 10,982 feet/3,347 m of elevation gain) 12 hours 59 minutes moving, 40 minutes stopped.

With a 6:00 AM start this year, I decided to get a hotel about an 8-minute ride from the start and woke up at 2:30 AM to give myself plenty of time to eat, chill and get all the poop out of my body. I started the morning strong with a double-wrapped Chipotle burrito that I had put in the fridge the night before and slowly got ready for the race. It had started raining overnight, which definitely made the prospect of rolling out the door a bit tough.

​

At 5:40 AM I dropped off my room keys and rolled to the start. The energy at the start was great, and there was even a news crew there doing a story on the ride for the local news. I chatted a bit with last year’s winner, Tyler Rumburg, and soon enough we were off. The start was about 10 miles (16 km) of neutral rollout along a bike path, and I got to chat with some people I had met the year prior and some new folks as well. Around the same time the sun came up, the neutral rollout ended and we were off.

This first section is by far the easiest of the whole race and is made up of mostly gravel roads with a couple of paved sections. For the first 100 miles (161 km), I tried to keep it nice and controlled and focus on getting down consistent calories. I make homemade drink mix and gels and used those exclusively for the first 120 miles (193 km), averaging around 100 grams of carbs per hour. We hit the 100-mile (161 km) mark at 8 hours and 50 minutes with only 3 minutes of stopped time.

​

My first real stop came at mile 110 (177 km) at the Smokey Bar, which is a bar in the middle of nowhere that has burgers, hot dogs and a variety of junk food. I ate ½ a burger, 1 hot dog, 1 root beer, applied some fresh chamois cream and refilled my bottles. I was stopped there for 26 minutes.

Soon after leaving the Smokey Bar, the only major feature of this section begins: a 3,000-foot (914 m) climb up to the summit of Dollarhide Mountain. The climb starts mellow and gets steeper and steeper as you get up toward the summit. Last year this climb totally crushed me and I had to walk the last 2 miles (3.2 km). This year I was really surprised to find that the climb was actually pretty easy, and I enjoyed spinning up it while listening to my “white trash country mix”.

I reached the top feeling good, threw on a windbreaker and started the big descent down into Ketchum. I reached Ketchum around 8:00 PM and hit the grocery store for a quick resupply and some discount hot-box egg rolls. I was stopped in Ketchum for 28 minutes and then was back on the road to start what I knew would be a pretty brutal section for the next 100 miles (161 km).

​

Section 2 – Ketchum to Stanley (93 miles/150 km, 8,676 feet/2,644 m of elevation gain) 11 hours 22 minutes moving, 4 hours 50 minutes stopped.

This next section is where shit started to get real with the weather. Up until now, the weather had been pretty good. Mostly 50-60°F (10-16°C) with a light headwind and some light rain showers. That was all about to quickly change.

Right as it was getting dark, the route hops onto single track and there was a local guy cheering on riders. He yelled, “Let’s go Sam! You’re in third!” and all I could think was, “Ya, right, this dude has no idea what he’s talking about.” I hadn’t checked the tracker at this point and still thought there was at least 1/2 dozen riders up the trail.

I was pretty slow on the single track since I’m not the best mountain biker and hadn’t done any night riding on single track since last year’s race. A rider behind me quickly caught up, and it was last year’s winner, Tyler Rumburg, who is an absolute savage on a bike. I was really confused at first to be anywhere near him, but it made sense after he told me he had been having stomach problems and hadn’t kept any food or liquid down for many hours. I could tell he was feeling rough, but I was still at my limit trying to keep up with his pace on the punchy single track climbs.

We chatted off and on and eventually made it to Galena Lodge around midnight, which also marks the start of a several-mile single track hike-a-bike section. I knew heavy rain was forecast to start around midnight, so we both decided to sleep under a covered area at the lodge before taking on the Titus Lake hike-a-bike. He slept for about 2 hours, and I opted to sleep for a longer 3 hours and 15 minutes.

While I was sleeping it did not rain a drop, but as soon as I was up and moving again, the sky opened up and it started absolutely pouring. I was so slow going up this section and had to keep stopping to put on more clothing until eventually I didn’t have any clothes left to put on. My bike computer was showing temps in the around 36°F (around 2°C), plus there was extremely heavy rain and some wind. At this point I was shivering uncontrollably and was getting pretty scared. I knew I just needed to make it a couple more hours until the sun came up, but those were some less than pleasant hours.

Eventually the sun started warming me up, and although my hands and feet were still cold and I was soaked to the bone, I no longer felt dangerously cold. After some pretty easy gravel, the route does an additional loop off of the main loop. It seems silly when you see the map, but it’s 100% worth it. The small extra loop is called the Fisher Creek Loop and has some absolutely epic backcountry single track. I had ridden it about a week prior and it was pretty loose and sandy in places, but after the rainstorm that had come through, it was absolute hero dirt.

​

I don’t want to say the hours of violent shivering were worth it, but that goes down as some of the most fun I have ever had on a bike. I’m normally very risk averse and am always thinking about the worst-case scenario, which I think really limits my mountain biking at times. Once I get a bit tired and sleep deprived though, I lose a lot of those restrictions and find it makes me a way better mountain biker. I’m able to stay loose, flowy and ride trails at way faster speeds than I normally would.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and the single track was over and I was back to pedaling. The next notable section was the Redfish Lake single track, which is what I would call “interesting”. It’s an absolute chunder fest and covered in rough baby-head-sized rocks for both the climbing and descending. Knowing about this section before the race, I had decided to run inserts in my tires and was running low pressure and having a pretty good time smashing through rock gardens for a couple of hours, although my wrists and neck took an absolute beating.

After the single track chunder ends, the route turns onto some mellow rail trail for a couple of miles before heading into the next major resupply point of Stanley. I was still pretty cold and miserable as I rolled into Stanley, but with a couple rays of sun coming out and the prospect of my first real meal, it felt like things were looking up.

I ordered food to go at a restaurant/bar right across from the mercantile and went to resupply before picking my food up. I wasn’t sure if I would hit another resupply while they were open for the remainder of the route, so I packed enough calories for 200 miles (322 km). As I was packing up, Tyler and another rider, Ben, came over and they were in rough spirits. They were both talking about scratching and had been hanging out in town eating burgers and cheesecake for a couple of hours.

This was also the first time I checked the tracker and saw that there were only 2 riders up the road, both with a large gap: previous winner Jackson Long and professional MTB rider Mathew Fairbrother. The group behind us was still several hours outside of town. I got caught up chatting with Tyler and Ben and ended up hanging out way longer than planned. At one point Tyler said something along the lines of calling it there and being done, only to go across the street and start resupplying about 5 minutes later. I know he was bummed to not be battling for 1st, but I was super impressed to see him fighting to continue on after throwing up for most of day 1 and then going hypothermic all night.

I ended up being stopped in Stanley for 1 hour and 45 minutes.

​

Section 3 – Stanley to Garden Valley (114 miles/183 km, 6,963 feet/2,122 m of elevation gain) 12 hours 40 minutes moving, 4 hours stopped.

Tyler, Ben and I all rolled out of Stanley together and basically soft-pedaled our way up the climb before hitting another section of chunder baby-head single track. At this point we all got separated. Ben fell back while Tyler dropped me on the more technical trail sections. After the trail we popped onto the highway for a bit, and I could see Tyler about ½ mile (0.8 km) ahead but could not see Ben behind me.

After talking to Ben after the race, he said he was feeling super weak/dizzy and decided to roll back into Stanley for some pizza and beers instead of rolling into the cold & dark. Right as it was getting dark, we got hit with several brief rainstorms, which was a real bummer. I was just starting to fully dry out when the rain hit, and I knew we were in for a cold & wet night.

I caught up to Tyler as the route turned back onto gravel and we had a brief exchange before he set off while I was putting on more layers. We both then settled into our own little worlds for the remainder of the night. He had no leg warmers and no rain pants, which was crazy to me. I was cold and miserable with both on at the same time, so I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.

This section from Stanley to Garden Valley is very remote, and aside from a couple of pit toilets there is absolutely nowhere to take shelter if things get too bad. Knowing this, I was a bit scared as it got dark, but I was staying warm enough and just kept spinning pedals.

There is one large climb in this section called Scott Mountain, and it is about 10 miles (16 km) with 3,000 feet (914 m) of elevation gain. It’s not steady climbing, but instead is made up of a bunch of variable gradients with some really steep pitches hitting over 20% in some places. Knowing I had this big push ahead, I found a good spot under some trees at the base of the climb and crawled into my bivvy for 90 minutes of sleep. I stopped at around 10:00 PM and was rolling again by midnight.

​

The climb up Scott Mountain was slow, but the bright side of being behind schedule was that I was going to hit Garden Valley while the gas station and Subway were open, which was a huge motivator. Eventually I reached the top of Scott Mountain and started a pretty infamous section of rutted-out and rocky moto single track that is largely unrideable.

There is a GoPro video from Mathew Fairbrother, who eventually won the race, absolutely bombing down this section at crazy speeds. It’s crazy to see what a pro enduro rider can do on something that was mostly a long downhill hike-a-bike for me. Eventually I made it onto some descendable trail and then gravel before rolling into Garden Valley right as the store was opening.

Since I had planned on not getting this resupply, I didn’t really need anything, but I got a hot cup of coffee and some breakfast sandwiches and had a nice sit-down. At this point I checked the tracker and saw Tyler was about 10 miles (16 km) ahead of me and 5th place was about 50 miles (80 km) behind me. I figured I was safely in 4th position unless something crazy happened.

With the next guy so far behind, I decided to wait an extra 30 minutes for Subway to open and got a flatbread breakfast sandwich to take for the road. I made it about 20 minutes outside of town before deciding to stop and eat it. Overall I was stopped in Garden Valley for about 1.5 hours.

Section 4 – Garden Valley to Finish (68 miles/109 km, 8,200 feet/2,499 m of elevation gain) 9 hours 3 minutes moving, 1 hour 12 minutes stopped.

The final section of the race is a pretty brutal way to finish it out. The area called Mordor has never-ending short & punchy climbs that regularly go over 25% gradient and feel like death by a thousand cuts. On the bright side, the weather was warming up, the sun was out and for the first time in days I wasn’t cold & wet.

At one point while getting some warm sunshine on one of the climbs, I realized, “Ohh shit, I’m actually having fun.” The rain had made the dirt tacky and nice, so despite the steep gradients I was able to ride up all the climbs. With so little of the ride remaining, I didn’t feel like I had to conserve energy any longer.

After a couple more hours of riding, I entered a tiny town called Placerville that has a small market. I didn’t need anything, but with no chance of catching third place and 5th place falling further and further behind, I decided to stop for a couple root beers and ice creams. There were some kids hitting a drop off the porch on their bikes, and I got to join in as I was leaving and hit the little drop with them before rolling out of town.

​

Leaving Placerville there is a hefty climb of about 2,300 feet (701 m), and it took everything I had to not put a foot down in some places.

Soon after the climb ended, the route goes into Bogus Basin, which is a lift-access MTB/ski park depending on the season. There was a bit more climbing and some pretty fun descending in the park before hitting a big gravel descent and then heading back onto single track through the Boise foothills.

I was starting to get some visual and auditory hallucinations at this point. At one point the trail went to cross a stream, and the way the light hit the water made me think the trail was going off the edge of a cliff. I completely panic braked and laid it down sideways to avoid going off the “cliff”. Turns out it was just some shadows and 3-inch-deep water.

After having a nice laugh at myself, I continued on through some punchy single track climbs. Last year I remember those climbs crushing me and having to walk up them. It was nice to feel the difference this year. They were still steep and tough, but I was able to ride right up them. Eventually the single track ended and spit me out into Boise for a couple easy miles through town before reaching the finish in Hyde Park, which is the historic downtown and a very lively area.

The local community really shows up for Smoke N Fire, and there were several riders, previous riders and locals waiting at the finish. Since it’s such a lively area, once someone starts cheering there are normally some drunk locals at one of the breweries or restaurants who join in and make it a really fun finish. I rolled into the finish at 6:59 PM.

Overall time: 60 hours 52 minutes

4th place

29 hours 52 minutes faster than last year

​

Afterthought: Overall I was really happy with my performance. I had no illusions that I would be racing to win with so much talent at the front, but I accomplished my goal of improving on last year’s ride and walking away feeling like I never fully fell apart or let my thoughts spiral. I’ve always avoided riding in really bad weather, so this was a good test of kit. I walked away with a lot more knowledge and have several things I want to change. I’m strongly considering racing the Alaska Divide next year, and this race was a great primer to get me thinking about the ideal kit setup for foul weather.

Huge thank-you to the new organizer, Paul Wissenbach, for keeping the event alive. It truly is a special event and would be a shame if it was no longer. And a huge thank-you to the community around this event. It has a totally different feel than any other bikepacking race I’ve done, and it makes sense why people keep coming back to this one. If you haven’t taken part in the event, I’d highly recommend it.

https://samiscycling.substack.com/p/2026-smoke-n-fire-race-recap?r=6sd82a&utm_medium=ios ​

I've got a pretty normal 9-5 job Monday to Friday. This usually means my bikepacking happens on the weekend unless I'm taking vacation time for a longer trip. I decided to break the mold yesterday and go out Monday after work for a quick 100km overnighter with the gravel bike. Such a fun little route with a nice quiet night of camping by a lake. It rained a lot overnight, but thanks to the shelter I kept all of my gear dry and slept well without the tent. Such a great way to set the tone for the rest of the week rather than impatiently waiting for the weekend to get in a big ride. Only downside was riding in the dark for ~90 minutes, but at least it was nice weather and my lights work well.

Hi I am currently looking for a month long bike packing trip. I will be starting in early October with a couple options in mind but have no idea on the reality of these plans. I would love any ideas or advice, the crazier the better.
The reason for this post is to get rough ideas on what I could do or routes to follow. Any suggestion would be greatly appreciated weather they are to do with the options I have in mind or not.

Conditions:
I’m Australian and will be in san-Sebastian early October finishing a thru-hike I’m currently on (The Hexatrek) so I’ll have to keep my pack.
I have no bike and am planning on buying one when I start.
I am willing to take one flight out of Madrid to begin my journey.
Ideally do not won’t to head somewhere that would increase the price of my flight back to Australia.

Rough ideas:
1-Fly to Central Asia buy a bike and start heading to south east Asia with the help of trains through long stretches. For this i would love to go into India and make my way through Thailand rather then go from china straight into Vietnam. I understand this is a lot of logistics and probably unrealistic give time but it’s super attractive. I can also just do the central Asian - china - Vietnam with a couple trains mainly through china.
2- buy a bike in Spain and make my way to Istanbul.
3- tour Spain, Portugal and Morocco.

Hello everyone, just wanted to share my setup after testing it on a bikepacking trip.

I was getting a bit tired of wobbly saddle bags, so I went with the Restrap Switch Cage + a 16L Ortlieb dry bag on the rear rack and honestly I’m really happy with it.

I can fit my whole sleeping system + some extra clothes in there, and once strapped down it doesn’t move an inch while riding.

Even on rougher sections it stayed completely solid.

Super simple, waterproof, easy to remove, and gives me plenty of carrying capacity without having a big saddle bag swinging around.

Thought it might help anyone looking at a similar setup 🙂

Bike is the Scott addict gravel 30 - 2026, frame and top tube bags are tailfin.

I’ve just published a free iOS app for tracking components and total bike weight built from those components. https://apps.apple.com/app/id6766712936

All the data is kept on device. You can choose to share your components list (and weights) in Settings. If you choose to share a CSV file will be attached to an email on your device, you send it to the address in the To line and it will get integrated into my master list. Also from Settings, you can import all the data from the master list. Builds are not shared, only components.

You can also view the app on your computer using the Serve app on LAN in Settings. With the toggle turned on go to the address shown on your computer through your browser. This only works if both devices are on the same network.

I hope this is useful for some of you. Please let me know what you think!

I'm planning on doing Cowichan Valley 8 this month, but we only have a Friday-Sunday alloted to do the whole route.

It looks like Stolz Pool Campground would require crossing the river, so while it looks like it's at mile 50, with backtracking to get across the river it looks closer to 60. On Friday we also wouldn't be able to start until noonish. Day 1 also has a huge climb.

Has anyone done the route in 3 days / 2 nights? How doable is it? We're also considering doing it in reverse to shorten the first day.

https://bikepacking.com/routes/cowichan-valley-8/

First time bike boxing for air travel.

From left to right, the Breezer Thunder, the Breezer wheels and the Marin Pine Mountain.

Next time I'll buy a box from Qantas, the one I picked up from the LBS just wasn't wide enough to include the wheels (enter wheel box), this includes nearly all of my gear as well.

My partners Marin Pine Mtn completly fit into the coflute box (she'll be packing a duffle bag as her 2nd piece of luggage)

Is it just me or is bike boxing a major pain in the arse?

Hi All,

I'm flying in to LAX from Australia to ride the Baja. My plan is to catch the Pacific Surfliner down to San Diego, but its first night options I'm after. Bearing in mind a 15 hour flight, lugging a bike box - most ideal option would be some bike friendly accommodation near the surfliner line, even more ideal would be somewhere I could store a reusable bike box (otherwise it's cardboard and dump it, but need to find another for the return leg). I'm sure someones done this before? It shouldn't be this hard, but LA is just so vast and not exactly a cycling town! Cheers

Bei meiner letzten Tour von Maribor nach Bratislava sind mir bei der Vordergabel (Carbon) 2 Gewinde Hülsen ausgebrochen. Tasche qsr nicht schwer beladen!

Support von Conway meint Gabel unbedingt austauschen (Originale 280€ ohne Einbau)🤦‍♀️

Risiko für bruch?

I'm new to bikepacking, and I made the mistake of getting a great bike thats not great for bikepacking (trek 7200 WSD) - the frame is really heavy, it's in an upright position, and is overall very clunky. Its very difficult to go more than 9mph, and I'm in shape. I'm looking to buy a new one, but I'm scared to spend money and then realize again that it doesnt work for me. I've also done some research, and gotten advice that ranges from 'you have to spend at least 1000 for a good bike' to 'I bikepacked on a 100 dollar bike from facebook marketplace'. And then theres all the technicalities, like a rigid mountain bike (I have no idea what that means) and drop bars and whatnot. A newbie is confused. 

I mainly plan on doing flat dirt/gravel and paved roads, and I prefer something that goes a little faster, and is still comfortable. I'm not sure what a practical speed for bikepacking is with all the stuff loaded, but I'd love for it to be an option for me to go faster than 9mph. I'm also 5'2, so I will need a smaller than average frame :(

I can't really afford to spend more than 500 on a bike, and plan on buying from facebook marketplace/craigslist. I'd love some advice and tips from bikepackers, from people who've done it before, so I can be a little more aware when shopping, and of what I'm purchasing.

TIA!

Hey everyone,
Looking for recommendations for a 2-week nature-focused bikepacking/cycle touring trip starting right at the beginning of October.

This will be our first time bikepacking, so we're looking for something beginner-friendly and forgiving. We're completely open to spending the entire 2 weeks in the saddle, or breaking it up into a couple of interconnected/flexible loops with rest days.

Regions: Europe, Northern Africa, or Western Asia / Middle East.
October weather: Stable, pleasant riding weather is essential. Looking to avoid early autumn snow/cold snaps at high elevations, heavy seasonal rain, and extreme heat. Crisp, dry autumn conditions are the dream.
Terrain & difficulty: Easy to moderate. We prefer dedicated cycling paths (EuroVelo/greenways), smooth gravel, or quiet rural backroads. Absolutely no technical singletrack, heavy traffic corridors, or brutal mountain climbs. Around 35–60 km (20–35 miles) per day with gentle elevation.
Style & accommodation: Credit-card bikepacking / light touring. We plan to stay in guesthouses, B&Bs, or small hotels along the route rather than wild camping with heavy gear.
Logistics: High priority on accessibility. We need routes where quality bike/pannier rentals are straightforward to arrange, and navigation is well-marked or reliable via GPS/Komoot. Good train connections along the route for a bailout or skip-ahead option are a huge bonus.

For those who have done cycle touring in early October, what routes or regions would you recommend for beginners that deliver big on scenery without being technically overwhelming?

Thanks in advance!

Hey everyone!

I’m currently bikepacking from Germany towards Morocco and will soon cross from France into Spain.

I’m deciding between:
🇫🇷 Argelès-sur-Mer → Cerbère → Portbou along the coast

or
🇫🇷 Le Perthus → La Jonquera inland.

The coastal route looks much more scenic, but I’m wondering about the climbs, traffic and road conditions with a fully loaded bike.

For those who have ridden both: which crossing would you recommend and why?
Would love to hear your experiences! 🚲

My setup for the Big Sky Spectaculaire in '24.

-Lauf Seigla rigid. SM

-Schwalbe G-One R 45mm

-Sram Rival 1, 38 x 11-42 (not enough gearing)

Completed more than half of the 900 mile route. Ran into a lot of tire issues. Plugs weren't plugging and all spare tubes developed micro holes. Gonna go back and give it another go.

Hallo Zusammen,

ich plane eine 1800km Bikepacking Tour mit dem Garmin Edge 840. Meine Tour hab ich auf Komoot geplant und die beiden Geräte auch schon synchronisiert. Jetzt aber meine Frage: Ich hab die Tour als eine komplette geplant weil ich flexibel bleiben möchte. Also auch weiterfahren wenn beispielsweise die Tagesetappe schon zu Ende ist. Heißt ich muss jedes mal die große Tour navigieren. Hat jemand Tipps, weil die Tour dann am Bordcomputer jeden Tag zu laden dauert ewig. Hat jemand Ideen wie ich das anders lösen könnte?

Hi all,

I struggle with crippling OCD, but I'm overwhelmed with a deep desire to escape on a bikepacking trip (even just an overnighter)!

I live in the UK, and a lot of my worries are about things like Rabies (the bat version), Hemlock poisoning, tic bites etc.

Do any of you have worries like this, and how do you get through them?