Well it certainly took me long enough! On July 3rd, at 12:55 a.m, I finished the 2018 Tour Divide in 24 days, 16 hours, and 55 minutes. But really, getting to border crossing at Antelope Wells, New Mexico, after riding 2,700 miles, took me close to seven years and four attempts. During that time I've stretched myself as an athlete and even more as a human being. It hasn't been easy. And that's the point. Pressure, stress, and discomfort are required in order to adapt and to grow. Tour Divide delivers that in spades.

So close and yet still a few more hours of riding to reach the finish line!

I could not be happier to have finally reached the summit of my personal Chomolungma. But I didn't do it alone. In fact, if not for the amazing people who fill my life, I wouldn't have even dared to dream about racing Tour Divide. It began when I met Joe Meiser in 2011 at Dirty Kanza and heard his tales of his 2009 epic along the Great Divide. Soon after I, like many, saw Ride the Divide, Mike Dion's documentary about the early years of Tour Divide. Then Meiser invited me and another new friend, Jason Gaikowski (who now contributes to Rambleur), on our first multi-day bikepacking trek in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah. That trip thoroughly worked me over but it also injected me with the bikepacking bug. Without it I wouldn't have made it to Antelope Wells a couple weeks ago.

Time with Jason Gaikowski (left) and Joe Meiser is always an opportunity for two things: learning and suffering.

There were many other experiences in the intervening years that helped equip me for Tour Divide. More Dirty Kanza finishes. A week touring the Great Divide with Kristen. A Ramble Ride. Jay P's Gravel Pursuit. Gravel Worlds. Adventure Kanza with Jim, Ryan, Shawn, and Scott. Trans Iowa. A solo tour from Indianapolis to Pittsburgh for Adventure Cyclist. An overnighter with the Barchecks and Kristen. The list goes on and on. All to say that we are the sum of our experiences and I've been blessed with amazing friends, family, and trips.

Between June of 2011 and July of 2018 a lot has happened (marriage, homeownership, job changes) but Tour Divide has been a constant. My first attempt was in 2013. I headed to Banff for the Grand Depart and made it 1,200 miles before a knee injury sidelined me. I returned to Banff for a solo, individual time trial in 2015. That time around it was a strange ankle ailment that had me limping and unable to pedal. Last year, in 2017, I raced northbound from Antelope Wells, starting with six other brave souls. After seven days, arriving in Salida in the lead of the northbounders, I was toast, a shell of myself hollowed out by loneliness, stomach issues, and spiraling emotions. Even during the race, as I climbed up Marshall Pass, I convinced myself that I would never go return to Tour Divide. But like many of us in this little world of ultra bikepack racing, I too suffer from race-amnesia.

A remnant from last year's northbound ITT inside the Hachita store. It's not often I top a results posting!

Still smarting from last year, I hadn't planned on racing Tour Divide this summer. In fact, it was my unicorn of a wife who suggested I head back to Banff. It was in February as we reviewed my race plans and training numbers that Kristen casually said, "You know you're fitter this February by a big margin over your figures from this time last year. What about another go at Tour Divide?" I nearly spit out the sip of coffee I'd just taken!

After arranging the time off with my ever-accommodating editor at Adventure Cyclist, the Legans went into full planning mode. Kristen and I discussed different ways to tackle the race based on my past experiences and also explored just what it was I was looking for in taking the start line again. The answer became clear fairly quickly. I wanted to finish. I had to put that first. Our approach was a simple one. No time goals. No daily required mileages or ride time. Just ride by feel, keep moving, and get to the Mexican border.

The first day's riding out of Banff was simply gorgeous!

By letting go of my previous 20-day goal, I freed myself mentally in a big way. As I'll write about in an upcoming post here on Rambleur, it eliminated the stress that can come with a shorter day on the bike during the race. And it turned out that with the really wet weather up north, having the mental agility to roll with the conditions was perhaps the greatest tool I carried.

Charlie Hayes nears the end of the snow on Richmond Peak.

Another important perspective that I gained, especially last year, was that I am far more social than I previously though myself to be. I didn't write about last year's ride much because it was a highly personal experience and it took several months and many chats with close friends and my wife for me to process it all. But, even as uncomfortable as it is, becoming better acquainted with myself is one of the reasons I seek out difficult cycling challenges. They afford me the opportunity to stress myself while working to stay positive, to stay patient, and to keep problem solving and moving forward. So I headed back to Banff and the Tour Divide Grand Depart not just because I would know a few people on the line, but also because I would have to opportunity to make new friends along the way.

Laura Anderson and Jesse Crocker on Lava Mountain.

Trippy light in Idaho as storms sit on the Tetons ahead and the setting sun illuminates my riding partners.

And this leads me to the riders with whom I shared the trail, in person and in spirit. To Charlie Hayes, Laura Anderson, Jesse Crocker, Wendy Stevenson, Joel Flowers, Gary Meyer, Ben Weaver, Bailey Newbrey, and many others, I thank you! Finishing Tour Divide wouldn't mean what it does for me without the meals, misery, and laughs that we shared.

Wendy Stevenson and Sylvia at the Vallecitos Snack Shack

When I traveled to Emporia, Kansas in May of 2011, I was had no idea the effect it would have on my life. It was my first try at a gravel race. Though I'd ridden the dirt roads and old mining doubletracks of Boulder County and beyond for some time, none of those outings had included a number or timing. It was also my first go at a double century. The Ride Across INdiana (RAIN) had been my previous longest ride at 163 paved miles and that had been several years prior.

I was in Emporia at the invitation of Salsa Cycles. They provided me with an entry to the race, a frameset to ride and a place to stay. The Salsa crew included sponsored riders and employees. We all stayed at a local's house (thanks Randy!) where we made ourselves at home, crashing on couches and sharing floor space.

Among the people I met I made friends who inspire me to this day. I discovered a new tribe and a welcoming one at that. Joe Meiser, now the Senior Product Manager at Salsa, later took me on my first multi-day bikepacking trip. He had finished Tour Divide in 2009 and after hearing some of his tales, I was enamored with the idea of tackling the route myself.

Lelan Dains lived at the house where we were staying. He volunteered to support us at aid stations. He's now a part owner of the Dirty Kanza and someone I hold in the highest regard. I can honestly say that without him I wouldn't have finished that long day of racing. His encouragement and unending enthusiasm pushed me to plumb new depths.

Tim Ek, a Salsa athlete, helped to allay several of my fears about the distance, the roads and the amount of calories needed. I was certainly packing my fears that first year, with far too many inner tubes and energy gels strapped to my bike. The day before the race we found ourselves relaxing, watching TV when 1984's "Red Dawn" came on. It was exactly what we needed, a cheesy movie to distract us. We joked that "Avenge me!" would be our call to each other if either of us fell victim to punctures.

And as much as all the people I've just mentioned mean to me, it was Jason Gaikowski who, over the subsequent years, has become my brother. He worked at Quality Bicycle Products at the time. We ended up sharing floor space in a quiet loft area of the house. Jason can be a reserved guy and I wasn't sure of him at first. But we stayed in touch after the race. We headed to Utah for our first multi-day bikepacking trip with Meiser. We rode the Katy Trail as part of a two-day, 315-mile extravaganza of suffering and started the 2013 Tour Divide together. A couple years later, he acted as officiant for my wedding. He remains one of my closest friends and confidante.

All this to say that I'm grateful for the experiences in my life and the people that I've met. The Dirty Kanza is just one of those experiences and the four fellows I mentioned here are but a small sampling of the wonderful people that have played a part in my life. I'm glad that my job at the time allowed me to head to Kansas and I'm thankful that I had the guts, or perhaps the ignorance, to attempt the race. So I encourage you reading this to take a chance, test your limits, and be open to the people you meet along the way.

Tour Divide Completed

Gratitude (the first of many posts on the subject)