BikePacking the spearfish 280
The Spearfish 280
Day 1 Thursday
Muira drives me to the start 45 minutes away in Spearfish. It’s been raining since we left Rapid. It rains the entire drive except for a mile out of Spearfish it stops. I’m so relieved. I take off a little after 6am and start heading up Tinton road to hit Tinton Trail. As I climb in elevation, it starts raining. Of course. This leaves me struggling up Tinton, Twin Bridges and a bunch more single track in the slick mud, wet gear, wet shoes and socks. Interesting start! Which makes mindset sooooo important because it would be so easy to just stop. At this point I really have to practice the thoughts I have used on other journeys like this. Things like, “Your already wet and muddy so why not just keep going because eventually the sun will appear again and everything will dry out and you’ll forget about all this anyway.” And that’s really truth. Things are hard and uncomfortable but they ALWAYS change. Reminding ourselves of this sure makes the struggle part a lot less “struggle”.
I get a little lost around the Big Hill area which frustrates me because I feel like I should know these trails. It continues to rain. I get back on course and eventually reach Iron Creek Lake where it’s pouring. Ugh.
Eventually I’m heading up Little Spearfish trail single track. My stomach has been cramping on the right side and intensifies here. I have to stop a lot and try to breathe and stretch…super painful! Thinking it’s high fat food I fueled with? I have no gallbladder…so maybe??!! I make a note for next time to try to fuel just with lean protein and carbs. This has not been the best start day I’ve ever had, that’s for sure! But stop thinking about that…it’s not helpful! Just keep moving.
I summit in the mist but no rain!
I hit lovely Limestone Road after all the single track this morning and ride through Eagle Cliff Cross Country Ski trails which look so different without snow. I cross Hwy 85 and head up a rocky draw pushing my bike and crossing logs.
I finally reach Long Draw Road and some 2 tracks that take me to the Mickelson trail for a sec and back along two-tracks for a while until I hit Castle Peak Road which is one of my favorites!!
Castle Peak Road is a descent (at least in the direction I was going!) the whole way along a beautiful creek. It goes on and on forever. I eventually pop out right before Mystic. Here I have to make a decision: Where to camp. This is the most anxiety-producing part for me. Camping on my own. It’s hard with a ride/race like this as I don’t know how long I’ll ride that day and where I’ll end up so I can’t really plan for a perfect, safe-feeling camp spot. There is also no cell service (cell service is super rare on this route!) and this makes camping solo feel more daunting. I decide I’ll ride for another hour before the sun sets and just take my chances.
I end up in the PERFECT place…. along single track where no one can be unless your hiking or biking or on a horse. So no drunk people on ATVs or 4 wheel-drives partying out in the woods (this is my biggest fear while camping alone).
I set up my tent in a hidden spot well off the trail as the sun is going down and all seems well. But then a herd of about 30 cows comes over the ridge and they are curious! Who knew cows were curious??!! They slowly start coming over to MY (haha) space! I yell and wave my hands but it doesn’t intimidate them at all. Eventually I decide to live with them but I also decide I can’t sleep in the spot I picked….too slanted. So I un-stake my tent and pick it up to move it. As I do this the herd of cows get spooked and trample away. Perfect! I move my tent to a flatter piece of ground, the curious cows are gone and I can sleep.
But I can’t sleep. I’m still a little scared, amped up, going through the list of logistics I need to get done quickly in the morning (like filter all my water at the creek below me as I’m not sure when the next water source will come after this)….
Last time I look at the clock it’s 11:20pm. I drift in and out of sleep throughout the night. When I am awake there is such beautiful silence enveloping me. Like silence I’ve never known. I try to really drink it in. Deep silence is so rare these days.
Day 2 Friday
I check the clock and it’s 4:00am. Yay! I can get up and get going. It takes me about an hour to pick up camp (I was working to whittle down this time but I always ended up at about an hour although the final morning I was able to be packed up and on the trail in about 50 minutes so I did improve!)
I head down to the creek and find a spot to filter all my water. This takes some time but I love the feeling of safety I have with all my water bottles filled. One of my greatest fears is running out of water. (I eventually end up having to really face this fear head-on. But that comes later.) I also love the process of “getting water” for my survival. It makes me appreciate water that comes out of my tap at home that I would typically never think twice about. An experience like this makes me appreciative of so many small things in life…and that appreciation makes life richer and more satisfying.
After about 13 hours on my bike yesterday of mostly single track I am very excited for this morning’s ride: about 40 miles of gravel-only roads. This will take me to the town of Custer and my first re-supply. I also really need to clean my bike as it’s skipping gears and making lots of noises due to all the caked on mud from yesterday.
I head out and after a few miles I’m on the Mickelson where I run across another bikepack-er from Canada. He’s riding the Mickelson from Deadwood to Edgemont. This is always such a fun part of bikepacking for me…meeting other people along the way. Everyone is always so interested in each other’s stories and experiences. It’s such an immediate connection with other humans! I love it! We chat for a minute as he pumps water quick-and-easy-like from the pump at the trailhead. I roll my eyes to myself as I could have saved so much time and just got water here. Oh well. It’s the filtering experience that counts, right?!
I make it to Custer and do all the things I need to do to leave town with a better running bike and enough food to last me to the next re-supply. I’m actually excited for this next part because the route takes me through a spot I’ve hiked to quite a few times and connects this spot to one of the trails I love….the Paha Sapa. I didn’t realize this could be done so looking forward to seeing HOW.
The HOW is tough…through marshy, wet lands and reeds up to my stomach. I end up hike-a-biking a fair amount which leads to very wet feet. Eventually I end up on the Paha Sapa and immediately have to navigate a huge tree across the trail. It’s at the worst height….just a little too far off the ground that I can’t lift my heavy bike up and over it. It’s also in a place where you can’t go around….on one side is a steep ravine and on the other is a very steep hill side. So I get creative and under I will have to go dragging my bike with me!
The day is really heating up and after finishing the Paha Sapa and more two-track I’m happy to eventually arrive at Legion Lake Campground Store. I check out the drink cooler and for the first time since I was a teenager I want a Coke. It looks like the most magnificent drink in the world!!! I chug it down and find out 15 minutes later that Coke is my superpower!!!
Leaving Legion Lake I head to where my tracker points me onto Centennial Trail. This single track is ascending up but smooth and lovely. I travel for a bit and look down at my Garmin…wait a sec…I’m not on the right track! I missed something! I turn around and get back to what is for-sure the start of Centennial but after a few minutes of computing I figure out I missed the small veer to the left in order to be on “proper” Centennial. I initially was on some nice-ly groomed single track that was maybe made for the campground visitors to enjoy (because they definitely would NOT enjoy this section of Centennial trail!) It is full of baby-heads, goes straight up a very long, steep hill and has limited shade. But I make it to the top because Coke is my superpower.
I ride a lot of Centennial. This is old-school single track. Rough, tech-y, difficult and beautiful. There is a section that gets you really high-up with unobstructed views of the beautiful rock formations only the Black Hills can offer. I take it in.
Next up for single track is Iron Creek Trail and then the climb up Iron Mountain Road. Its getting into the late afternoon/early evening and I’m getting tired. The climb is pretty tough and I’m in granny-gear almost the whole time. It takes a while. My butt is definitely hurting and I’m ready to hit Keystone for a short break and re-supply. I really want to make it past Keystone before stopping for the night.
I manage the crazy climb and find my energy again on the descent through the Pig Tails (named after the curly-cue-shaped road). I hit Keystone and the VERY limited grocery store which bums me out because I’ve been told the 36 miles between Keystone and Piedmont (next resupply) is a big push. I gather what I possibly can….a pack of fig newtons, a couple Clif bars, some skittles but there are no bananas (which I really wanted). No “real food” of any kind which is helpful to eat along the way if you can. I head out with a heavier bike filled up with water and food.
At this point it’s getting late but I want to ride until 8pm. This gives me an hour of light to set up camp. I keep moving but I’m also feeling a little nauseous. It’s been a warm day and I’ve really pushed my body. I’m finding it really hard to eat (which is so important to keep the body going on a trek like this). I have a few moments of trying to chew up some food but can’t get it down and spit it out. I finally figure out if I get little bites of fig newtons into my mouth, I can swallow it down with water (like taking a pill or vitamin). I make myself do this because I know if I don’t, this ride will come to an end tomorrow. I’m starting to get a little nervous as I’m not sure if I’m feeling something serious or if this is just normal. Am I having heat exhaustion or am I just tired? I decide to stop and sleep on it. I’ll see how I feel after that. I’ve learned to never make decisions when you’re going up-hill or after a long day. Make decisions on the down-hill or in the morning after you’ve rested or slept.
Luke shows up on his off-road motorcycle to camp with me which is just the best!! I see him and literally start to feel better. There are rules to a self-supported bike race like this so we have separate tents, he can’t share any food or water with me, he can’t help me with anything…like setting up my tent, filtering my water, etc. But it’s everything just to have him there. I sleep better.
Day 3 Sunday
THIS IS THE MOST BRUTAL DAY!!!! I am soooooo glad I had no idea what this day was going to be like when I woke up or I would have never left camp. This day is filled with really hard single track and very, very hot weather. My start is on the trails in the Victoria Lake Area, then Centennial through Brush Creek area, connecting to some trails that spit me out behind Hisega. I gather water at the creek at Hisega because the the lodge is closed as will be the Mexican restaurant that I will go by on Hwy 44 because it’s only 9am. It’s already so hot so I saturate the buff that I wear under my helmet as well as my sports bra and put everything back on wet. This little trick helps a lot over the next couple of days to just give a tiny bit of relief from the pounding sun.
Next up is the single track climb up Sun Up, some Bone Collector and down Petty Theft to hit Nemo Road. I take a break in the shade before the crazy climb up what appears to be the hottest black top and steepest climb with no shade that I’ve ever seen. I’m in granny gear the entire way but again, I eventually get to the top and get the reward of the air-conditioned long down-hill that I so needed. I gather water at the creek at the bottom of the hill (later this proves to be one of the most important decisions I make!) and set out for more single track on Finding Nemo that then connects me onto one of the hottest, longest, most up-hill for miles and miles and miles of single-track that I’ve ever been on in my entire life (at least it feels this way at the time). This is the scariest time for me and thank God I filled all my waters when I did as I’m running low. It’s so incredibly hot and this route has limited shade and there is limited breeze. I have to be really “on it” about drinking. I know pushing a body in heat like this can bring bad things on quickly. I run through the list of symptoms of heat exhaustion and heat stroke in my head. I’m still peeing (albeit not much), no headache, a little nauseous but keeping food down, drinking a lot and often. And I had electrolytes with me…so good there! I just want to get to Piedmont!!! Why haven’t I got there yet??!!! I really need to get there. I need to cool off, I need to rest, I need some shade.
Time seems to slow and I remind myself I can always call for help. I can get rescued if I really need it. But I’m not in that place yet. I’m simply just miserable. I check the heat stroke symptom list again. I’m okay. I keep going.
And, of course, I eventually make it to Piedmont (on a Sunday where the burger and fries I was dreaming about at the Slash J Bar is unavailable because they are closed on Sundays. Eye roll). I ride my bike a mile off course along the highway against the wind that reminds me of a huge blow dryer blowing hot air at me to get to the gas station.
I unpack garbage to throw away, get a Gatorade and sit in the AC for a while. I told myself I would hang out for an hour or two to make sure I was feeling okay before riding more. I check the list I made before leaving on this adventure telling me how many calories to leave every resupply with. I need at least “1500 calories and a meal” for my next push until the next resupply. No burger and fries but they have Papa Johns pizza here. I order one with no cheese and extra meat and veggies. There is something about a warm meal that feels more nourishing and energy producing than all the bars and such you end up eating along the way.
I go back outside to pack things and there’s an extended family hanging out around my bike who want to chat. The kids think my bike looks “so funny” and want to know all about it. I show them where I pack all my gear for camping and surviving. The little girl thinks maybe she’d like to try this some day. The adults aren’t so sure it’s wise for me to be riding alone. They all wish me well and give lots of encouragement. I really enjoy this type of human interaction. It’s all support and love and curiosity. It reminds me to try to be this way with everyone I encounter daily…to give this sort of positive attention and curiosity to everyone around me. It reminds me most people in this world are good.
It’s been my allotted time to see how I’m feeling and I decide I’m not feeling amazing but I’m good enough to go for a bit. I definitely do not want to camp around Piedmont area so I need to get going to find a place that feels safer to me. I take off for Little Elk Creek trail and then on to Dalton Lake and back on to Centennial trail. This has been a really, really hard day. The heat, all the single-track and basically the realization I gathered a lot less miles than I anticipated.
But my camping spot this night is probably one of the biggest rewards of the trip. It’s a spot I know well and so I feel very comfortable and pretty safe. I’ve actually imagined camping in this exact spot many times. This is another God moment (there were many!) because I end up at this exact spot at about 7:45pm. Right when I had planned to stop riding for the day. The spot is down off the trail and well-hidden. No one would ever guess I’m there. It’s in a notch high up between two canyons with incredible views. I can’t believe I’m here. I set up as the sun sets over the canyon wall. I eat my dinner with a sigh of relief and also awe at the beautiful setting around me. Sometimes it’s hard to believe a place like this is real because it’s so picture-perfect. I am so grateful in this moment.
Day 4 Monday
I really want to finish today and if my calculations are correct I have about 60-70 miles to go?? But yesterday I only covered about 45ish?? If today’s route is terrain like yesterday I won’t make it. And I’m feeling more than little sore and tired this morning. It’s going to be another very hot day. Not sure if I’ll be able to make it happen.
I’m low on water but that’s okay because I can filter at Elk Creek which I should hit within an hour. I pour the last of my water from a stored water bladder into a water bottle for easy access. I now have one full water bottle and about 5 ounces in my other one.
However, after pouring the last of my water into my one water bottle I did not immediately put the lid on. For some reason I turn to grab something and my bike falls heavy and hard on it’s side. Splashing out all the water (and breaking off my right break handle but I don’t notice this for a bit). But it’s all okay because I can survive on 5oz until Elk Creek. I know there is no water after Elk Creek for far too long so without Elk Creek I would need to call it or call someone to bring me water which would disqualify me. But I would do this as I’m already a bit dehydrated and it would be dumb to keep going without water. But it’s okay because Elk Creek can’t be too far away!
I hoof my packed bike back up to the trail and this is where I realize my break lever is broken off. But….lucky for me there is just enough of it left that I can still use it with one finger! Yay! I start down the very narrow and tech-y trail as the morning just starts to glow pink. I can tell I’m tired so I remind myself to stay vigilant as often this is where accidents happen. About 30 seconds after this my pedal hits a hidden stump (it’s not very light out yet and I’m in a lot of vegetation and canopy) and sends me over the bike and down the ravine a few feet with my bike on top of me. I hit the side of my right calf pretty hard but I thankfully have some muscle there and so all is well. It takes me a bit to get the heavy bike off me due to gravity and our angle on the edge of the ravine. But eventually our tangled mess is sorted out and I’m back on the trail.
I’m almost to Elk Creek! I’ve drank all my water and I’m feeling thirsty and can’t wait to drink up and hydrate. I arrive at Elk Creek. It’s bone dry. Not even a puddle. My anxiety immediately goes off. F*&%!!! I’ve never seen Elk Creek totally dry. Ever. WTF. Well, time to message Luke. I know there is a road I can make it to where he can meet me. It won’t be a good time and I’ll be super thirsty and miserable and dehydrated but I can make it. Now I need to make the decision if he meets me with water do I keep going to just finish this even though I’ll be disqualified for the “race”? The answer is of course I’ll keep going. This was never about “the race” for me. This was about finishing an amazing bikepacking route through the Hills and seeing if I can do something like this! So yes, I’ll keep going to see if I can finish.
I text Luke through my satellite messenger (never any service out here!) and tell him I might need him but I’ll give him a final decision in a few minutes. I wanted to think about the map and make absolutely sure I wasn’t missing any other possible water source near me that I could get to and then get back to the course without help from him.
As I’m going through the terrain in my mind I keep walking/riding my bike. This trail winds across Elk Creek 5 times and I cross it for the second time. Bone dry. At a few points my heart rate goes up and adrenaline pumps through my body as I do start to panic a little as I’m just really, really thirsty NOW and this is my biggest fear (running out of water) and can I even make it to the spot to meet Luke??!!! Yes, yes you can. You’ll not feel great but you will survive. Relax. But I’m not going to lie, it is disappointing thinking I’ve come all this way and might have to forfeit. I cross the dry creek for the third time.
Where else could I get water? I have racked my brain and come up with no where close enough. I cross Elk Creek for the 4th time. Why did you have to be dry???
I decide I’ll text Luke for rescue after I push past the 5th and final crossing coming up. I come around the corner and have the greatest experience of thankfulness (I had been praying a lot!) and wonder and happiness!!!! There is water flowing here!!!! I literally scream “thank you” out loud over and over and over. I run around giddy and excited like a little kid! In one instant my world has changed 180 degrees. I grab my filter and drink until I can’t drink anymore. There is something about quenching thirst. It is one of the best feelings. I will never, ever forget this moment because it was so gratifying, so special, such a prayer answered and such a reminder that life can change in any instant. Yep there are really, really hard times and yep, there are also really, really amazing times. It’s always both.
With renewed energy and vigor and ALL water bottles filled I start the tough ascent side of the canyon still on Centennial and looking for Deadman’s (another single track). After a couple more hours of riding I pop out on black top and get a lovely, cooling ride down hill before connecting to Galena road. This proves to be a tough pull. 10-12 miles towards Hwy 385 on dirt/gravel of steady climbing, not a lot of shade and the sun shining hard on my back. I know at 385 I have a resupply spot where I can cool off a bit, get my clothes wet (this seems to make the heat a little more tolerable), get some Gatorade and I actually need to charge my tech as my extra power pack wasn’t working last night.
Eventually I arrive but after a few minutes in the A/C I start feeling a bit nauseous. I make myself eat as I know this is necessary and try to drink a coke (come on superpower!!) I stay for a bit to get my navigation and phone charged up. It’s hard mentally to make myself leave this space of creature comforts but I’m getting close and really want to finish. The nausea comes more in waves. I check my heat stroke symptoms list again. I’m miserable but I really don’t think I’m danger. Time to go.
The next section is ATV track and a HUGE climb. Its a severely rutted, rocky 2 track dodging some ATVs and trying not to suck too much dust into my very used lungs. It’s super sun-exposed, hot, a total hike-a-bike and takes me forever. I have to stop and rest for a count of 10 a fair amount. I covet shade like I’ve never coveted it before. Please let this climb be over.
Eventually it ends (as they all do) and the lovely, cool descent comes (which they always do). And then more climbing. And then more descending. I repeat this for a while.
And then all of the sudden I arrive on Railroad Grade Road. I now know where I am. I’m actually close to the Mickelson which means I’m close to Hannah Road which means I’m pretty close to Cheyenne Crossing. From Cheyenne Crossing I’m 20 miles to the finish. 20 miles is still a lot but its down Spearfish Canyon on black top that runs at a descending grade. If I make it there, I will definitely make it to the finish line!
All the sudden, with this knowledge I don’t feel hot or tired! I feel like its day one with all kinds of energy! It’s so amazing to me that how what we think literally creates how we feel.
I travel for more miles and eventually end up at Cheyenne Crossing. I empty all my water (finally will get some weight off the bike!) I keep one large water bottle filled for the 90 minutes this will probably take me. I call Muira to ask her to leave Rapid to come pick me up when she gets off work and I turn towards home.
Here’s the ending and it includes some of the best parts on my journey: Beautiful Spearfish Canyon has a very special place in my heart so descending down it brings lots of nostalgia and love in my heart. I take this in. I have time to recognize that this is the hardest physical accomplishment I’ve ever experienced in my entire life and I’m doing it at 50 years old. I take this in. I turn to ride along the Spearfish bike path towards the end of the course. As I approach the end I hear a couple of hoots and hollars and there is JT, the creator of this spectacular course and Perry, local bikepacking legend to share in my accomplishment. I cry. Someone else in this little party tears up too (I won’t say who.) I take this in. Muira shows up to bring me back to Rapid City and as a surprise to me has brought along the love of my life. They hug me (well not Muira because I “smell really bad!!”) I take it all in. The end.
