It takes a little bit of crazy to race 350 miles across Georgia; it takes a good bit more to race 2700 along the Continental Divide. And yet, there is another level still: the people who seem to enjoy these things. I know I'm still somewhat sane because I can admit that bikepacking sucks a lot of the time - when you're tired, hungry, thirsty, hot, cold, and pushing a 50lb bike uphill still a long way from resupply or proper rest - it's not fun. But covering large distances day after day under your own power is kind of awesome.
It's funny how much food can play with your emotions. In everyday life, you might get 'hangry' if you don't eat for a while, but when bikepacking, that little bit of irritability quickly turns to frustration, self-doubt, and general negativity, at least for me. I start to question my motivations to keep going, sometimes not even realizing I'm just hungry. But as long as I remain reasonably fed and watered, however, I can usually enter a kind of Zen state where the miles tick by and I accept equally the challenges and rewards as they come.
In the last couple of weeks, when I got to thinking too much about The Divide, my stomach would do a little summersault. I would then seek out that Zen state - I know I've prepared as much as I reasonably could. Training has been successful. Gear is ready to go (although, the tinkering never ends). The last big hurdle is the psychological one. I don't know how to mentally prepare for something of this magnitude. The idea of a 2700 mile ride is much too wide and spiky to fit between my ears. My motivation to complete such a task is questionable. But sitting here in the Canadian Rockies is incredible. The mountains alone are enough inspiration to start.
