I’ve always wanted to try bikepacking but was put off by the apparent complexity. I spent way too much time looking at bikepacking gear lists and photos of other people’s rigs, and it was a bit intimidating. Between the range of incredible bikepacking-specific bikes, the arrays of color-coordinated frame bags, and the extensive lists of supplies and tools, it seemed like a lot stood between me and a first-time bikepacking trip.
After a year of pandemic pandemonium, though, I started going stir-crazy and felt the need to try something new. In a leap of inspiration, I decided to ignore the urge to wait until I had the perfect bike, a dialed-in gear setup, and complete confidence. I threw together the gear I already had, greased the chain on the bike I already had, and embraced the feeling of being an unprepared newbie.
What You Actually Need to Start Bikepacking
It’s easy to be convinced that to start bikepacking you need a bikepacking bike loaded up with bikepacking bags full of bikepacking gear. While it’s fun to look at the amazing rigs people have put together, thinking that you need to have specialized gear will only keep you from getting out.
Here’s the truth: if you own a bicycle, you have a bikepacking bike. It may not be ideal for all conditions, but if it works, it works. As for the rest of the gear, if you have basic camping/backpacking gear, you are set.
Here is my honest list of bikepacking essentials:
- Bike, ideally with wheels, pedals, handlebar, and brakes
- Tent
- Sleeping bag or quilt
- Sleeping pad
- Clothing and layers for the conditions
- Water bottle and filter
- Food prep kit including pot, stove, fuel, and spoon for cooking meals (or bring a big bag of PB&J sandwiches, seriously)
- Bike repair kit; for a short trip you don’t need any more than you would take on a day ride. tire levers, plugs, spare tube, mini air pump, and basic bike multitool should cover it.
- Miscellaneous small items include a flashlight, toiletries, map or phone for navigation, sunscreen, and sunglasses.
- Some way of carrying all this stuff on your bike or your body. Use whatever bags, straps, and packs you have.
So yes, you do need some gear, but it doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive beyond what you already have. If you already own basic lightweight camping gear and a bicycle, you have everything you need.
My Setup
I already had a decent kit of backpacking gear which covered my tent, sleep system, cook kit, and other camping items. I used these things all the time already for backpacking and car camping, so nothing was new for bikepacking. If you do other activities, you also likely have a lot of the camping gear you need.
The bike I took on my beginner bikepacking trip was the only one I had: a Marin Gestalt X10 gravel bike. This is by no means a purpose-built bikepacking bike. It’s more of a budget, somewhat-race-oriented, aluminum gravel bike. I used it for commuting, long pavement rides, and singletrack sessions that were probably more than it was designed for. Using this bike meant I was limited to milder terrain, but I was okay with that for my first trip.
To carry all my gear, I used a 32-liter backpack and strapped my tent to the handlebars. This meant I carried about eight pounds on my back, which I generally wouldn’t recommend for cycling, but it worked for this shorter trip. I suggest using a simple dry back or stuff sack strapped to the seat post to take more weight off your body.
Mainly, I want to dispel the myth that you need specialized gear to go bikepacking. Any bicycle can work for bikepacking. I mean that literally (try googling “tall bike bikepacking”). Plus, while dedicated bikepacking bags are cool and convenient, you don’t need them either.
My Bikepacking Route
For this first trip, I decided to stay relatively close to home. After some research and map-reading, I settled on riding up the right fork of Hobble Creek Canyon, which was about twenty minutes from my home at the time.
One benefit of this route is that it is an established road but is closed to motor vehicles from November to May. The gates open over Memorial Weekend, so my trip in early May was at the perfect time: after the snow was mostly melted but before cars could drive up the road. This meant I could find solitude quickly, but still have a fairly well-maintained dirt road, which would be better on my gravel bike than rough singletrack.
I didn’t plan much beyond that. The trip was supposed to be trip relatively short: leaving Friday afternoon and riding back Saturday morning. I didn’t pick a campsite beforehand or choose a set destination. I really didn’t know how far I would ride. I hoped simply to get up above the city noise, cruise on the dirt through the trees, and soak in the sound of the trees and springtime birdsong.
Hitting Dirt
On the day I’d picked, I threw my bike and backpack in my car, drove to the closed gate on the Right Fork Hobble Creek road, and started pedaling.
It was simple, and I loved that. The first few miles past the gate were paved. The air was cool in the canyon, and I enjoyed feeling it flow around me. I felt pretty good when the pavement ended and the dirt began. At this point the road angled, and I found myself spinning in my easiest gears. The elevation climbed rapidly, and oaks and maples gave way to pines and then aspens.
The skies were overcast, and occasional showers made the ride feel adventurous. It helped that I didn’t see a single person after I passed the winter gate. Hobble Creek Canyon is typically a popular spot for hikers, dirt bikers, and OHVs. It was incredible to leave the noise of the valley behind and have this place to myself.
Making Camp
I took my time on the ride, exploring a few side trails, and stopping to filter water at Packard Creek. Last year this creek had been almost roaring, but now it was just a trickle.
Eventually, the steep dirt road began to flatten out and I found myself winding through a thick pine forest. I stopped at a crest where the road began to descend on the other side into Diamond Fork Canyon. I was at about 7,300 ft at the top of the Right Fork of Hobble Creek Canyon. There was a large, open clearing that looked like a perfect spot to spend the night, so I stepped off the bike and started making camp.
The most noticeable thing that evening was the quiet. As I set up my tent and sleeping mat, cooked dinner, and waited for the sun to set, the world seemed to be silently watching me. I watched it in return.
With the skies overcast, darkness settled in quickly. I flipped on my headlamp as I finished eating my dehydrated meal, and I listened to the wind in the trees.
I slept well that night, away from the incessant noise of the city. It made me wonder why I don’t do this more often. Why don’t we all try more often to get away from the
Taking the Wild Home
The next morning was frigid, but I was determined to enjoy it. I enjoyed a breakfast of hot oatmeal as the sky gradually brightened. Though my fingers were numb and I didn’t have good cold-weather gear, I took my time breaking camp.
The ride back down the canyon was beautiful. I loved watching the trees rush into a blur and feeling the clean air wash around me as I descended. It is hard to beat an early-morning start in the mountains.
The easy ride down gave me time to think. I considered how even small trips like this always leave me feeling rejuvenated and alive, but also wanting more. It’s so easy to get caught up in the routine of day-to-day life and miss the opportunities for exploration around us. If anything this first bikepacking trip taught me that you don’t need to wait for epic adventures. The simple experiences you can find nearby are more than enough.
Just get outside. Do something new. Enjoy living.