If your idea of a fine bicycle trip features tons of swimming, singletrack on two sides of a mountain range, and views aplenty, bikepacking the Three Sisters, Three Rivers might be for you. Sure, you’ll encounter mosquitoes and plenty of hard work, but call them the price of entry for the magic of outdoor experiences.
And magic there was. Rocky ridge riding with magnificent views of the Three Sisters; the primal deliciousness of pastries from Angeline’s Bakery after a hard day of riding; ferny, mossy beauty on the McKenzie River trail; spine-tingling dunks in cold rivers.
Throw in trail angel generosity and hilarious chats with random people, paddling out on log rafts into the middle of Hidden Lake to sleep, and brake-smoking madness down Alpine trail and the recipe for a spectacular trip is complete. The calm quiet of mountains in the evening tops it off.
Here’s my experience doing an unsupported bikepack on the Three Sisters, Three Rivers route. I created this as a resource for folks looking to bikepack it, so feel free to skip to the specific sections listed below as needed.
- Route description and overview
- Our trip plan
- My Experience Bikepacking the Three Sisters, Three Rivers route
- Day 1: Bend to Sisters via Mrazek and Trail 99 (48 mi, 4,400′ climbing)
- Day 2: Sisters to Clear Lake via Old Santiam Wagon Road (46 mi, 3,800′ climbing)
- Day 3: Clear Lake to Hidden Lake via McKenzie River Trail and Aufderheide Road (45 mi, 3,300′ climbing)
- Day 4: Hidden Lake to Oakridge via fire roads and Alpine trail (50 mi, 6,200′ climbing)
- Day 5: Oakridge to Oldenburg Lake via Middle Fork Willamette and Windy Lakes (59 mi, 6,000′ climbing)
- Day 6: Oldenburg Lake to Tokatee Lake via North Umpqua River Trail (36 mi, 2,400′ of punchy, overgrown climbs)
- Day 7: Tokatee Lake to Panther Creek trailhead, remainder closed due to fire damage (21.5 mi, 2,900′ climbing)
- Parting thoughts – what to expect and two suggested alternate routes
- Photo gallery
- Trip logistics: food, water, camping, navigation, etc
Three Sisters, Three Rivers Bikepacking Route Description:
The Three Sisters, Three Rivers route travels 325 miles from dry Central Oregon over the hills to the west side of the Cascade Mountains. From Bend, it’s singletrack most of the way to Sisters, followed by a pedal around the shoulder of Black Butte to Suttle Lake and over the Old Santiam Wagon Road, a historic route for plucky early Oregonians.
The famous McKenzie River trail leads you to the Aufderheide, a snaking road through the hills outside of Oakridge. You’ll peel off the Auferheide and head up steep fire roads to the crest of the mountains, then grin your way downhill on Alpine trail into Oakridge. Regain the vert out of town on the Middle Fork of the Willamette River and back to the crest of the Cascades (and mosquito breeding ground, fair warning).
Then it’s west and down down down (except when you’re pushing your bike up) on the North Umpqua Trail toward Roseburg. This section will test any bikepacker and help you brush up on swearing, but at least there’s respite in the cold river and the Umpqua River hot springs helps revive spirits before the push to the finish.
I’ll also suggest an alternate route to make this route a loop, which simplifies logistics by skipping the N. Umpqua Trail and picking up the Oregon Timber Trail out of Oakridge or from Crescent Lake.
Our Trip Plan
My trip companion this time around is Mason, a stoked guy on his first serious bikepacking trip. For once, there’s some real planning via a shared Google Doc.
Our rough goal for the ride is 8-9 days of pedaling, though we end up doing it in 6.5 days due to closed trail at the end of N. Umpqua Trail and by increasing mileage to avoid a looming heat wave.
Prior to the trip, my angst grows as Mason stacks up huge riding days – “43 miles and 7,000’ of climbing again today!” – while I play piano and pretend to ride. (Good thing I recently rode the Oregon Outback or I’d be researching ebikes.) Many years of endurance riding gives me confidence in my ability to
rally survive without extensive training, but training still matters. If I can get 5-8 hours of pedaling per week for the month leading up to a trip, I’m good.
Since I live in Bend, we leave from my front door. I’ve ridden sections of this route before, but linking it all up is satisfying. When I bikepacked the Oregon Timber Trail, connecting the entirety of Oregon purely under my own power unveiled new facets of the state.
Day-to-Day Experiences on the Three Sisters, Three Rivers
Day 1: Bend to Sisters
We pack up the night before and hit the road by 7:30 am. My legs feel like mush to kick things off. Ah, a good omen. Sadly, there’s smoke in the air from a fire. It’s June 20th – is this the new reality, summer’s mired in a haze?
On the way up the first climb, Mrazek, I chat with a woman with plans to ride part of the Three Sisters with her employees. Bikepacking is increasingly popular and it’s awesome to see people trying it out. There’s plenty of room outside and biking spreads people out. Plus, it’s not my private playground.
Mrazek is a smooth, leisurely pedal out of Bend and a great start to the trip. We refill water at the creek up top, where I realize I accidentally carried an extra half gallon uphill for two hours. Didn’t even notice. Another reminder for me to not to be a weight weenie.
On the fire road connection to Trail 99, we stop and eat lunch. Thanks to Mason, we’ve got different freeze-dried food, a local plant-based Bend company called Food for the Sole. The first cold-soak lunch meal, curried cauliflower, BLOWS MY MIND. It’s exponentially better than PBJ on a tortilla.
My latest realization: I’m over sweet meals on bikepacking trips. Bring on the savory snacks mid-ride.
On the infrequently-ridden Trail 99, we pass through a large burn from 2017. Skeletal trees with panoramic views of the Three Sisters, fun descending and the trail all to ourselves, yeehaw.
It’s a 95 degree day, but we pedal into Sisters feeling fresh(ish). Last trip to Sisters, we stayed in the campground by the highway and I learned accelerating semi trucks aren’t my favorite white noise. I opt for a hotel room for the night. Credit card points are the bomb.
We eat massive burritos at a Mexican place and are in bed by 9:00. Temps are heading to 99 degrees the next day and we don’t want to bake our brains out on Old Santiam Pass.
Day 2: Sisters to Clear Lake
We gobble down cold-soaked instant oatmeal for breakfast. Still learning things: why did I ever bother cooking oatmeal in the morning? I always add a healthy portion of freeze-dried fruit, nuts, and peanut butter to up the ante.
We slip outside into the sunrise, cool air nipping at our grins. Those smiles subside on the steep, sandy traverse around Black Butte, but my audiobook, A Game of Thrones, distracts me from the horse-impacted trail and dusty quagmire.
We cross the frosty Metolius River and head up to Suttle Lake. Finally, the trip is underway: our first skinny dip, . A woman hikes by and we turn away, but she merely yells, “that was me an hour ago!”
Then we’re climbing up Old Santiam Pass. I pause to catch a work call while Mason pushes on toward Big Lake. Like any good relationship, it’s beneficial to have time apart while bikepacking.
People lament the sand on Santiam, but with a 2.6” rear tire and 2.8” front (Mason has 2.4/2.5”), we do zero hike-a-bike. How early Oregonians got over this pass in Model T’s is beyond me. I suspect they swore a LOT and planned for unexpected overnights. They did other things too: dug in the sand, pushed cars, and straight up walked away when their vehicles failed them.
I catch Mason at Big Lake and we enjoy the cool water. He also receives his comeuppance for teasing me about installing my bike rack backwards: his chain install is routed incorrectly and his derailleur guide now has custom grooves. I handle it diplomatically by laughing uproariously and teasing him for an hour.
Thermometers are popping their bulbs when we arrive at Clear Lake. Our energy levels are high, but who the heck wants to pedal further in an oven? The lake is gasp-inducing cold, the best. We jump in repeatedly, hang by a kayak put-in and chat with people, help folks haul their gear out of the water, and generally enjoy ourselves.
A lady whose son is hiking the PCT is excited to be a trail angel and shares some cold bubbly waters with us. Always say yes to offers of hospitality to encourage it in humans! (We do, however, turn down non-vegan mac and cheese with sausages later on. Gotta stick to core values as well.)
We end up camping with a cool crew of folks from Corvallis. One is an ice scientist moving to Tasmania to help them develop their nascent research program. The other guy wears a chess nonprofit shirt, but sadly doesn’t have a board with him. I didn’t need to lose anyway.
The guys ran a juggling club together in college and entertain us with stories of their exploits, plus tales from a multi-month bike tour cut short thanks to a testicular torsion. Google it: you don’t want one.
Day 3: Clear Lake to Hidden Lake via McKenzie River Trail
I wake up at 5:30 a.m. as morning lights seeps through the trees. My eyes are heavy thanks to staying up late around the (safe!) campfire.
The McKenzie River is as beautiful as always, a crisp blue rushing flow. With a 6 am weekday departure, we have it alllll to ourselves the entire 26 miles except for two guys who we fly past on a descent. Loaded bikes still haul ass downhill, folks.
The 26 miles is a tuck and weave ride through mossy trees and fern-covered undergrowth. The contrast with the east side of the mountains is a cool aspect about this route. And being able to jump in the river, of course.
To streamline things, Mason mails food ahead to the post office in Blue River and Oakridge. Thru-hikers often do this, but I never have. The simplicity of knowing what to expect food-wise, especially following a plant-based diet, proves quite nice. We do the same thing on the Colorado Trail.
I restock snacks at the gas station in McKenzie, eating two cold cans of Amy’s soup right out of the can like a (happy) wild animal. Meanwhile, Mason hammers along the highway to get a resupply package he shipped to Blue River. He’s disheartened it’s 3 miles out of the way, but he’s strong and determined. No biggie, it’s all part of the adventure. I rendezvous with him on the climb out of the valley. Oakridge or bust, tally ho!
This is my first time on the winding Aufderheide, a paved road through the mountains. At the dam, the road is blocked to car traffic and there’s a “No pedestrians” sign. We scarcely glance at each other and keep pedaling. We’re on bikes, after all. (Yes, we’re hardened criminals, but we also encounter zero landslides or reasons to not pedal the road.)
The day’s hard work is the long fire road climb up to Hidden Lake, our evening destination. I pop in an earbud and disappear into Game of Thrones again. At 2.25x speed, I can actually finish a 35 hour audiobook on a trip like this.
Hidden Lake is divine, a gem perched in the mountains. The kicker: some creative genius nailed a bunch of plywood to logs and created rafts for paddling around the lake. It’s still early in the afternoon and we both have energy to continue, but why the hell travel by bike if you can’t stop and enjoy a spot like this?
We each paddle a raft over into the shade and spend the afternoon swimming, napping, chatting, and reading. These moments, free of a cell signal or anything pressing to accomplish, often kick off the best conversations. I learn more about Mason in two hours than I’ve learned in the last two years. (And yet still make plans to ride the Colorado Trail with him.)
Nightfall brings out cricket with megaphones. I pop an earplug in and pass out on my gently rocking raft. Later, I wake to the full moon and watch the trees wave in the wind. It’s splendid. The cricket’s serenade drops me back into sleepville.
Day 4: Hidden Lake to Oakridge
We spend the cool morning hours pedaling straight uphill while waving at gravel trucks working on the road. Why are fire roads in the middle of nowhere maintained to this degree? Deep philosophical questions abound on bike trips.
It’s a long day of pedaling, some 50 miles and 6,000’ of climbing. However, the fire roads feel blissfully easy. After the McKenzie River trail the day before, I appreciate the laid-back enjoyment of a nice road in the middle of nowhere. The views still sparkle and the effort is far less. Variety!
As usual, the view from the top of Alpine trail stretches out for miles. And then I descend into tunnel vision and only see trail for the next seven miles as we roast our brakes downhill. Don’t let anyone tell you loaded bikes aren’t fun: singletrack, especially smooth and fast stuff, is still copious fun on a bikepacking rig.
A snide guy at the bottom of the trail levies advice at us and talks up the rides he’s done. It’s strange how some people have a compulsion to one-up when they see people doing something difficult. (I’ve only done it a dozen times to other people!) We hastily bid him adieu so we can get to baking our brains out on the hot pavement for the final five rolling miles to Oakridge.
Sadly, the 3 Legged Crane Pub is closed, so we settle for sitting outside a Thai place in the scorching heat. I chat with a Timber Trail rider from Durango who is WAY stoked on all the swimming in Oregon versus the Colorado Trail and he fires me up for my upcoming trip.
We finish out the day with the A/C cranked at the Best Western. Between delicious cold air and the massive haul of fruit I bought at the store -including a watermelon I carried under my arm – it’s a perfect end to a stellar day of bikepacking.
Day 5: Oakridge to Oldenburg Lake via Middle Fork of the Willamette River
Loaded with grapes and cherries, we head out into the cool morning for a day of uphill. A mile out of town, my cranks wobble and try to fall off my bike. Hmm, odd… My multitool doesn’t have an 8mm, but Mason comes to my rescue. Many benefits to traveling with a companion.
We huff our way up to the dam. At the top, there’s a guy sitting in his car smoking a cigarette. “You guys pedaled up that hill?!” Yup… (And a few hundred others.)
Early in my bike travel days, I’d scoff at how people didn’t understand what we were doing, how “cool” it was, the commitment, etc. Then I realized something: it doesn’t matter. Nobody except psyched cyclists care what I’m doing beyond a “cool you’re out here.”
Post-trip, I’ll sit down for a belated birthday dinner with some friends. Since our last hang, I’d done the Oregon Outback and Three Sisters bikepacking trips. How long do we spend talking about them? About 3.6 minutes. It’s merely another bike trip for Dakota. Let’s move on.
And you know what? It’s freeing, a fine reminder I better be doing these trips because I WANT to, not because it’ll impress people. I’m not sharing the rides on Strava or Instagram, so no one can see the daily distance and elevation. If I’m going to sweat my way up a climb or hike my bike through downed trees, there better be some deep intrinsic motivation or I might as well stay the fuck home!
But that dinner is a week away. Here and now, we both head into audiobook land and grind out the Middle Fork climb, 5,000 of climbing and climbing and climbing. The trail is off to my right, but I see no reason to pedal punchy uphills with a paved, low-traffic road available.
At Summit Lake, I’m reminded of 2018 and the Oregon Timber Trail when we came through here. Why? Because the mosquitoes in this cursed place are like the screaming hordes of Genghis Khan, except he took a few prisoners and these rapacious killer bugs do not.
We’ve already ridden 50 miles and kicking back to swim and camp sounds nice. Except it’s only 3 p.m. and sitting here while the bugs attack in rolling waves of fighter jet formations is simply not an option. We push on, straight into the teeth of the assault. Mason abandons all reason and splashes through a deep creek; I pick my way across as the bugs frolic in my eyes, ears, and soul. It’s not too bad, really, assuming you are already a crazy person.
We crest the top of the Cascades (again) and drop down to Oldenburg Lake as the sun dips low. The bugs have disappeared, at least for now. It’s a beautiful summer evening and our post-ride swim feels divine. Pedaling up to remote spots like this for an evening of solitude is why the hard work of bikepacking is worth it.
The mosquitoes return and I try to tough it out. (Mason immediately hops in the tent and watches me deal, gloating smile pasted wide on his face.) Surely they’ll go away when the sun sets… They don’t. *sigh* Into the tent, where we crash out for a solid night’s sleep.
Day 6: Oldenburg to reservoir along North Umpqua Trail
We wake to beady stares from hungry mosquitoes. Breakfast and camp teardown is a brief affair, shall we say.
The climb out of Oldenburg gets our blood moving with water bars and downed trees. Any stops are met with swarms of mosquitoes manning their turret guns. We make good time.
A screamer descent on a fire road brings us to the NUT: the North Umpqua Trail. Relative to the McKenzie River, the NUT is rougher, punchier, and far less traveled. As we discover, it’s not ideal for bikepacking.
We restock with a few salty snacks at the KOA campground before the Dread and Terror section of the NUT. The owner, Jim from Kansas, retired to the Oregon woods and now works his butt off running the establishment. He warns us about the terrifying trail ahead, the narrow cuts between downed trees, and so on.
None of Dread and Terror is too bad. If you can ride a solid blue trail, you’ll be fine. A reminder people who aren’t participating in the same activity rarely have useful insight. “Oh, climbing over the pass isn’t too bad,” they say, comfortably kicked back in their car. Take any advice on the road with a major grain of salt.
Perhaps Dread and Terror isn’t scary, but it kinda sucks for bikepacking after about the first few miles of fun descending. Sure, the Umpque River is a crisp blue and the terrain is beautiful. However, steep, punchy climbs, lots of downed trees, not much flow… It’s a truckload of work for not much reward.
And then the trail gets overgrown and competes with ferns and scratchy brush. Note: if you’re planning to do the Three Sisters route, consider the reroute I suggest in the logistics/tips section below.
Mason soldiers on without complaint, but his eyes laser cut through the underbrush. I follow, my bike’s crank still getting loose. Mason is out of earshot, so I tighten it with a stick enough to keep riding, repeat. One of those days.
The Umpqua Hot Springs are right along the trail, a naturally occurring series of pools. Air temp is about 98 degrees, not quiiiite ideal soaking temps. Still, we cool off in the freezing Umpqua, which makes the hot springs feel good.
We’ve made great time and plan to finish a couple days earlier than planned thanks to mosquitoes, but also thanks to a historic heat wave: it’ll be brain scorching hot in two days. I’m no climatologist, but 115 seems hot enough to warrant not biking.
A thought strikes me. What if the fire from 2020 messed up the trail? (Yeah yeahhh, I should have checked earlier. At least we have food!.) It doesn’t show as closed on Trailforks, but a call to a local business gets me a quick answer. The last 25 miles of the NUT are closed.
Whoa. We only have 25 miles to go?! We immediately call it a night and wild camp by Tokatee Lake. A dinner of Food for the Sole wrapped in tortillas warms my belly. Life is good, even when the mosquitoes drive us into the tent for our final night.
Day 7: Reservoir to the end
Not much to say about the final day except: wow, it’s hot. Temps head toward 107 degrees as we pedal, push, cajole and threaten our bikes through the final sections. There are picturesque views of the N. Umpqua, but the heat and the overgrown trail tempers my enthusiasm. I’m glad to explore this part of my backyard, and also only plan on returning to the North Umpqua Trail sans bicycle.
We hit Panther Creek by 10:30, but are overheated enough to sit in the icy Umpqua for a solid 15 minutes. Chelsea, continuing her streak as the best wife ever, rolls up with a huge salad fresh-picked from our home garden, plus piles of fruit and good cheer. Another trip in the books!
All in all, I think this is a solid bikepacking route to experience what Oregon has to offer. Plenty of resupply points, lots of singletrack, and reasonable elevation gain make it quite approachable.
My biggest suggestion: unless you reeeeally want to ride the North Umpqua Trail, I’d consider rerouting from either Oakridge or Summit Lake.
- Pick up the Oregon Timber Trail (OTT) from Oakridge and climb up to Waldo Lake and ride back to Bend. A perfect way to streamline logistics and turn this route into a loop.
- Follow the Three Sisters route all the way to Summit Lake, then singletrack to Crescent Lake (reverse OTT), and then back west for a short stint on highway 58 to get to Waldo Lake. There are probably ways to do it on fire roads or even over the top of Maiden Peak for an amazing descent to Gold Lake. A bit of a detour, but you get to see more eastside Oregon riding.
Throwing out ideas! The entire Three Sisters route is beautiful and well-worth doing. Know what to expect on the North Umpqua Trail though.
Click on the first image and scroll to see full size shots or scope them out in smaller format!
Logistics for bikepacking the Three Sisters, Three Rivers Route
For reference, here’s my full Ride with GPS recording from the trip. It follows the official route from Bikepacking.com.
Tips and suggestions for the route
Day 1: Bend to Sisters via Mrazek and Trail 99 (48 mi, 4,400′ climbing)
- Easy climbing out of town up Mrazek. Until early July most years, there’s a creek at the top before turning north toward Sisters.
- If it’s a hot day, taking a short detour up to Three Creeks Lake for lunch and a dip is well worth it. Good chance it’s the last water until Sisters as well.
- Angeline’s Bakery in Sisters closes at 3 p.m. You’ve been warned.
Day 2: Sisters to Clear Lake via Old Santiam Wagon Road (46 mi, 3,800′ climbing)
- Easy pedaling to the base of Black Butte. The trail climb around the NE side suuucks. Do yourself a favor and take the fire road. I wish we had.
- No need to filter water from Suttle Lake. At the SW corner is a campground with water spigots. Soak your shirt, climbing is coming…
- Bigger tires (2.4″+) will make Old Santiam Wagon Road actually fun. The views are great and Big Lake is a must-stop for an afternoon dip.
- Not much camping on the north side of Clear Lake, though there’s a spot right by the highway where we stayed when I did the Oregon Timber Trail. Fair warning: the truck noise is BAD there. This time around, I camped in the Clear Lake campground and slept much better.
Day 3: Clear Lake to Hidden Lake via McKenzie River Trail and Aufderheide Road (45 mi, 3,300′ climbing)
- Plenty of water down McKenzie River Trail (obviously) and a solid restock option at the general store on the highway in McKenzie Bridge.
- Easy road pedaling (with some climbing, sure) all the way to Hidden Lake. The detour is worth it – how often do you get to sleep on a raft?!
Day 4: Hidden Lake to Oakridge via fire roads and Alpine trail (50 mi, 6,200′ climbing)
- Plenty of vert on fire roads and not much water past June, so stock up at Hidden Lake. The climbs aren’t too bad past the initial push to the top.
- Grab water at the bottom of Alpine to get you to Oakridge. The last five miles was HOT with plenty of climbing.
- Make sure to swing by the Oakridge Mercantile bike shop. Great folks!
Day 5: Oakridge to Oldenburg Lake via Middle Fork Willamette and Windy Lakes (59 mi, 6,000′ climbing)
- Lots of water all day, so no worries there.
- The road next to Middle Fork is quiiiite nice for uphill pedaling. You hard asses out there can ride the trail uphill.
- Expect mosquitoes from Timpanogas Lake until you get to the North Umpqua Trail. They will get you. Be ready.
Day 6: Oldenburg Lake to Tokatee Lake via North Umpqua River Trail (36 mi, 2,400′ of punchy, overgrown climbs)
- Restock at the KOA before the NUT. Say howdy to Jim.
- Don’t stress about Dread and Terror. It’s a straight-forward blue trail.
- Past a few miles, be ready for hike a bike and downed trees and overgrown trail. It’s errrr less fun.
- Don’t miss the natural hot springs.
Day 7: Tokatee Lake to Panther Creek trailhead (21.5 mi, 2,900′ climbing)
- The upper NUT wasn’t terrible. The section below Tokatee mostly was. Tons of downed trees, zero flow, and close to zero fun. Leave your bikes behind and hike or trail run this section!
- Past Panther Creek trailhead, the final 25 miles of trail is closed due to fire damage. I wasn’t sad to call it!
Getting to/from start/finish
Since I live in Bend, I pedaled straight out the door to start the trip. However, there are buses from Portland if you’re flying in.
Getting back from the end of the trail is a bit tougher. My wife picked us up, but if you pedal up the highway to Rogue River, there are bus options to Eugene/Portland and then back to Bend if needed. Cog Wild Shuttles is another resource.
Time of year
This route is clear of snow fairly early since you don’t get much higher than 6k elevation. By mid-June, chances are you’re good to go. One downside to earlier departures is a higher chance trails won’t be cleared of trees, but these are (mostly) popular riding areas and you’ll likely be fine.
This route is mostly on long trails like Mrazek, Trail 99, McKenzie River, etc, so navigation was straight-forward. I simply downloaded the route GPX from bikepacking.com and used Ride with GPS to navigate. The app is easy to use and only costs $6 per month.
My preferred method to save battery is to keep my phone on airplane mode with the volume turned up loud enough to hear the DING when a turn is approaching. There’s also another tone when you miss a turn, which quickly corrects any missteps.
As usual, I rolled on a plant-based diet for this trip. My companion Mason is also vegan, which made things easy.
With the exception of a dinner in Sisters and two dinners in Oakridge, I ate mega-delicious Food for the Sole freeze-dried meals. Lunches were a mix of freeze-dried options and various snacks from restocks along the way.
Riding on a vegan diet and curious what you can find in convenience stores? Traipsing About reader, badass cyclist and fitness coach Lauren Costantini put together a list of foods for all you plant-based folks.
Tons of water on this route! You’ll (likely) never need to carry more than 2-3 liters at a time unless you for some reason are dry camping. Even the creeks south of Sisters were running in late June. The driest sections are Sisters to Suttle Lake and Hidden Lake to the bottom of Alpine, though we found a running stream at the top of Alpine. Past June, it’s likely gone.
We both used the fantastic Katadyn BeFree filters. Skratch Labs electrolyte powder helped power us when energy levels were low.
We brought my Big Agnes Fly Creek UL2 bikepacking tent and split carrying duties between poles and fabric. Mosquitoes drove us inside the tent on two nights, but otherwise we cowboy camped for free. You’ll have no problem finding places to sleep along the route. Pro tip: DON’T SKIP HIDDEN LAKE!
You’ll have a signal up high most of the time, but the river trails and section south of Oakridge proved sparse with Verizon.
I rode my 2019 Why Cycles Wayward (version 1) set up with a Terrene McFly 2.6” rear and 2.8” front tires. I run a 140mm front fork, which seems to handle most anything I’d want to ride a loaded bike down.
With the Colorado Trail coming up, I took some sage advice and threw a 26T chainring on my Wayward to complement the 11-46 Shimano XT setup I’ve got. It was AWESOME. Spinning is the name of the game while bikepacking! You’ll never mix your taller gears as much as you’ll wish for more climbing range, trust me.
Rounding out my gear was a Revelate front roll bag for sleeping gear and a custom frame bag. New this trip was a lightweight T-rack from Tumbleweed Bicycles. Rather than a huge dropper bag swinging around behind me and dragging on my tire on descents, I ski-strapped a dry bag to the rack. Two Salsa Anything Cages rounded out the kit, one with my sleeping pad and cook kit, another with a 64oz water bottle.
The weight is basically the same as a big dropper bag and functions much better. Sure, dropper bags LOOK cool, but are they truly uber-functional? I say racks still have a place.
The setup worked great and I plan on using it for future bikepacking trips one exception: hike a bike is a bit ungainly with the Anything Cages. For Colorado, I’m running a light kit with a Bedrock Dragon dropper bag to keep my hips close to the bike. I’ll simply carry a bit more weight on my back.
And that…is the end.