Bikepacking, to me, has long been this sort of mythological pilgrimage that people take during times of crisis or insanity. I've always viewed it as this unique and ultimate means of escapism through physical torture that cyclists get to tap into when life gets too tough to handle.
In stark contrast to my ridiculous and wrong belief, my life is really very good right now. And I've decided that I could use a healthy dose of suffering. The time is ripe to dip my toes in and take on my first pedal-powered, multi-day, bike-packing excursion.
*cue existential breakdown and a flash flood of self-doubt*
Here's the thing about first times : you really have no idea what to expect. You can plan and anticipate and drive yourself nutty (or in my case, extra nutty) trying to over-compensate for lack of experience with preparation. But the truth is: you just don't know until you go.
So, I spent days studying "So you think you want to bikepack" articles. I scoured the Bikepacking.com website for every tid-bit of information that I could squeeze like a sponge from it's archives. Ultimately, the reading gave me a sense of calm. Reading about other peoples' misadventures and mistakes made me feel as though I could mitigate my own.
I made a list of things to pack, largely based off of the gear of the experienced riders at MaxtheCyclist.com. I laid out my bike bags and systematically began to shove what I could into said bags, attempting to group like-things together in hopes that my exhausted self would remember the formula rather than delirium induced tornado-ing through everything looking for toothpaste each night.
Throughout this process, I anticipated the moment when all of my bags would be full, my bike unbearably heavy and fully loaded, while my table of "essential items" remained still half-way covered with gear.
That moment never came.
*cue deep sighs of relief*
It was refreshing to look at my fully loaded rig and see how little I need to get by, how few things I require to feel comfortable, and to recognize the small number of material objects included in the equation of fun times.
There was a sense of pride that rushed over me, looking at my bike all loaded up with nutrition and sleeping gear, a fresh days' worth of clothes, toiletries and camera gear. It was my whole world, in one 45 pound mobile bundle, tuned up and ready for adventure.
My gear list was abbreviated largely owing to the fact that I had decided not to buy anything new, but rather to test my current gear and use this initial journey as a learning experience. I had absolutely no clue what I was getting myself in to. And I came to terms with that fast. After all, my comfort zone is a space in which I am entirely uncomfortable, neurons firing at maximum capacity to resolve problems that haven't even come up yet.
My comfort zone is the "come what may" state of mind, and that's exactly what I intended to set out and find.
The appeal of the whole venture is that it would be hard. Nothing worthwhile comes easy.
And boy oh boy, was I about to be reminded of that first hand.
**I will be posting a more in-depth review of my gear-list soon, as well as comments on what I would pack next time & what I won't pack again! (Link will be provided here as soon as it's posted.)