There are not more than a handful of people whom I read from start to finish when they write online. Hansi Johnson (@hansski43) is one such person. Another, one of my all time favorites, is Alexandera Houchin (@alexanderahouchin). Just beautifully honest, humorous and wise. Most of you have by now heard of or read about her travels, racing and thoughts on life and community. She is a must read.

Just a couple of days ago, a Heck Productions racer named Pat Moore shared his thoughts on his recent Tour Divide attempt. It was one that is close to my heart and I felt worth sharing. With his permission, it is here. Maybe tuck this away for the next time your journey takes a different route than you were planning. Selfishly, we are thrilled to have Pat here racing The Wolf Bikepacking event next weekend. Enjoy and thank you.

“It feels like I’m beating a dead horse, but I promise, this is my last Tour Divide related post. I’ve been reflecting a lot on not finishing the race, what that means, and how I am going to respond. I, like many people, really suck at handling failure. Failing can feel like the worst. I am proud of the 1,000 miles I was able to ride, but that was not my goal; 2,700 miles to the border was.

The main feeling I’ve had since dropping out is anger. My whole body felt so good, so why did my neck have to give out? On the final pass, a notoriously challenging one called Lava Mountain, it became glaringly obvious that I could not continue. I laid down in the woods and called my neck some pretty nasty things.

I’ve run the gamut on unhealthy ways to respond that mostly center around regret. I’ve questioned not taking a couple more rest days in Butte. I’ve questioned my aggressiveness out of the gate. I’ve questioned my physical toughness. I’ve questioned my drive. I’ve questioned why I attempted the Tour Divide in the first place. Although reflection is critical, none of these questions really helped.

So, how do I respond? Well, keep biking for one. In the days after dropping out, my brain screamed to be on the bike while my body begged me to eat and be idle. The only times I felt okay mentally was on my bike.

The only healthy way to process my failure to complete the Tour Divide is to practice gratitude to have gotten to experience even a part of this incredible, ridiculous, beautiful, outrageous bikepacking route. I’ve registered for a couple more ultra distance bike races (nothing like the Tour Divide), but demanding in their own right. And even better, they happen to be in the wonderful state I call home.

I believe bikepacking is the best way to see the world and meet new people. One of my biggest priorities as a father is to show that to my two boys. Bikepacking forces you to slow down, self-reflect, and cherish the highs while navigating the lows.

So why post all of this on a public forum like Facebook? Well, to be honest, I am terrible at sharing my thoughts with people. I am not great at being vulnerable with anyone outside of my own family for that matter. I want to write a book someday and I better practice being a bit more “public” with my thoughts.”