My Adventure: by Jeri Glick-Anderson
When my husband first brought up the idea of a bicycle trip along the Continental Divide in the Rockies, I thought: “No way!” His plan was to travel north to south from the U.S.-Canada border to the U.S.-Mexican border on trails, gravel forest roads, and jeep tracks.
I was busy with work, and such an adventure held no appeal to me. After all, it would mean carrying all our gear on our mountain bikes, traveling and camping in Grizzly Bear country, exposing ourselves to lightning-and-hail storms-and-wildfire, and who-knew-what-else.
But he kept planning, as he was happily retired, and I kept focusing on my work. Until, one day, I returned from the office and realized that this trip was really going to happen – whether I participated, or not. He was going to bicycle from the Canadian border through Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico to the Mexican border. If he went on this adventure, and I stayed home and worked, I would never forgive myself. He would have stories to tell. I would have: more days of work. I did not want to miss this adventure.
In July 2021, we each loaded up our bicycles with 45 pounds of gear and food, and off we went – guided by GPS maps of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (GDMBR), a GDMBR guidebook, and paper maps, all published by Adventure Cycling Association (https://www.adventurecycling.org/), the organization that developed this remote wilderness route back in 1998.
We had 7 weeks for this trip, which was the amount of time that I could get off work. On Day 1, we traveled 35 miles straight up a steep, rocky, gravel mountain road, and met Doug. He had done this route before, and he listened to all my concerns. “You can do this,” he said. By Day 2, my butt was sore, my legs ached, and I was in love with the spectacular scenery. By Day 3, I realized that we were not alone on the trail – there was a whole community of warm, friendly, equally nervous and excited cyclists traveling from north-to-south and south-to-north. By Day 4, I agreed with Doug. I could – and I would – do the entire trek.
We traveled 2,616 miles, climbed 190,000 feet, resupplied every few days in small towns, got stuck in mud as thick as peanut butter, cooled off in brisk mountain streams, spotted elk and moose and eagles, faced off with cows, ate luscious homemade peach-blueberry pie in Pie Town, and met many wonderful people. This was an incredible adventure – worth every pedal stroke.
Advice to Others:
- If you have the time, don’t rush. Our target in 2021 was 50 miles per day. However, in 2024, we went back and did the Canadian portion of the GDMBR from Banff, British Columbia, to Whitefish, MT. This time, we covered about 35 miles each day, traveling in the morning, and setting up camp by early afternoon. This gave us plenty of time to explore, swim in the lakes, enjoy our surroundings, and keep up our energy levels.
- Adjust the trip to your ability level. Shortly before our departure, I was diagnosed with severe osteoporosis. My doctor said I could go on this trip, but there was one thing that I absolutely could not do. “DO NOT FALL,” she said. So we happily and proudly took the easier alternate routes when faced with particularly hard sections of the trail, like the infamous Fleecer Ridge in Montana. Many people brag about completing this particularly challenging section. I bragged about: not falling and playing it safe!
- It’s okay to walk. As a newer, cautious, and more timid rider, I hopped off my bike to walk whenever the route became too technical for my ability-level or the mountain became too steep. At first, I was embarrassed by this. But soon I realized it didn’t matter. One way or another, I was crossing the United States under my own power and on my own two feet. Biking and walking, I did it!
