The Lonely Road

04/01/2026

I did a thing and joined a cult.

11/03/2025

I can’t help myself, every time I say Tetons, I do it in the deepest, most ridiculous French accent I can muster. These mountains deserve it. They’re almost too perfect, like someone sculpted “mountains” for a child’s picture book and then dropped them here, sharp and sudden, out of nowhere.

I’d been dreading this stretch. The weather had turned savage. Wind, rain, a bit of snow dancing in the air, and I rolled into Jackson shivering, ready to hide for a couple of days. Then, just like that, summer came back.

The Tetons stood there, cliché and magnificent, while the world thawed around me. I’ve been lucky with the weather so far, it keeps holding on for dear life, and maybe so am I.

11/03/2025

I can’t help myself, every time I say Tetons, I
do it in the deepest, most ridiculous French accent I can muster. These mountains deserve it. They’re almost too perfect, like someone sculpted “mountains” for a child’s picture book and then dropped them here, sharp and sudden, out of nowhere.

I’d been dreading this stretch. The weather had turned savage. Wind, rain, a bit of snow dancing in the air and I rolled into Jackson shivering, ready to hide for a couple of days. Then, just like that, summer came back.

The Tetons stood there, cliché and magnificent, while the world thawed around me. I’ve been lucky with the weather so far. It keeps holding on for dear life, and maybe so am I.

10/14/2025

“You gotta be in cool places to take cool photos.”
It’s a mantra I often repeat to myself. Especially on the hard days when I question why I’m doing this.

I didn’t start cycling for that reason. In the beginning, it was just something I fell in love with by accident. Over time, it became a way to challenge myself. To see how far I could go, how much I could endure. But somewhere along the way, it changed again. It became something deeper. A way to express myself. A way to practice and nurture something I love.

Photography. Videography.
Out here, those are the things that matter most. I pedal from one picture to the next, trying to capture the beauty of the places I pass through. The silence, the light, the feeling of being nowhere and everywhere at once.

When I thought I was doing this just to push myself, I started burning out. The constant need to prove something, to myself or anyone else, felt empty. It wasn’t until I realized that I was doing this to create that everything shifted.

I’ve always had a love for creative work, but never really had an outlet for it. Until I started documenting my rides. That’s when I finally understood why I keep moving forward.

10/07/2025

I’ve never been one to plan much for these rides. Usually, I just pick a destination and start pedaling.

The GDMBR has been no different. I downloaded the GPX file from bikepacking.com, loaded it onto my Suunto, and have been chasing that thin blue line ever since. Never really knowing what waits around the next corner.

That’s the way I like it. With no expectations, every surprise feels like a gift. And when something truly breathtaking appears, it’s all the more majestic.

09/24/2025

09/23/2025

I’m in a constant state of awe along this route. Every pass, every descent seems to hold a moment that sends goosebumps racing from my head all the way to my toes.

More than once I’ve had to stop and simply stare, to let the view sink in, to burn it into my retinas. In those moments, time itself feels irrelevant.

I’ve made it to Butte, and just beyond lies Fleecer Ridge. I only learned of this section from another northbound bikepacker who told me I was in for a treat.

Naturally, I had to find out more. A little digging revealed what awaits: a 38% grade hike-a-bike, followed by a descent just as punishing. It’s considered one of the most memorable and challenging stretches of the entire route.

I’m ready for it. For the kind of struggle that tests you and leaves a mark. The kind of effort that makes the ride unforgettable.

08/30/2025

🚴 Distance: ~251 km
⛰ Elevation: +3,040 m
🐾 Mikoto: ~ 130km
🗺 Route: ~ 4,149 km

A hurt paw has stopped us dead. Thats on me. I ignored some signs thinking she was just tired. Thinking about the distance and journeys Mikoto has been on before. Not taking into account how much shes does recently.

I just thought hey, she done this before she can do it again. But there is a build up, a time we need to toughen up the pads rebuild the muscles.

This isn't the end, I just have to do my duty now and carry her into the trailer for the next few days to let the keratin rebuild over the pad. Im glad I caught it when I did.

Overall the last few days have been pretty amazing, and despite the late start and all delays I'm happy to finally be doing this.

08/26/2025

Today I finally set off on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route a 4,500 km journey following the Continental Divide from Banff, Alberta to Antelope Wells, New Mexico.

I had originally planned to leave last week with a freshly upgraded bike. After months of consideration, I pulled the trigger on a Rohloff hub, but the shop I ordered through made a mistake and brought in the wrong one. On top of that, they didn’t even get the rim needed for the wheel build.

I’d been in touch with them for two months, so the mix-up pushed my departure back until today. But the wait is over. The ride begins now.