September 20th, 2024. Day 84 on the Continental Divide Trail (CDT)
Roughly 1,900 miles in, we’d just left Salida, CO. I liked Salida. It has McDonald’s and Safeway – if that’s not thru-hiker paradise, I don’t know what is.
It was good to reconnect with Phil and Gabe after a while apart. The trail leaving town was mellow, and as we hiked, we began discussing life after the CDT. For me, it was simple – to give living in Lithuania a shot. But in the back of my mind, I was already wondering if I wanted another adventure.
I love hiking. I’m good at it. But should I just keep hiking other trails, such as Appalachian Trail or Te Araroa, simply because they’re there? I could, but I doubted I’d enjoy them the same way.
Then Phil, in his usual laid-back way, just said:
“What do you think about cycling South America next year?”
That one question didn’t lock in my plans right there, but it sparked something – a curiosity that over time grew into something bigger. Over the next few weeks on the trail, we spent a good chunk of time talking it through, turning a passing idea into a very real possibility.
Years ago, I heard Jesse Itzler talk about having one major year-defining event every single year. That idea stuck with me. While I focus on my studies and career, I’m equally, if not more, committed to building my life’s resume. After two long-distance hikes (PCT and CDT), it felt like time for something new. Maybe this could be it.
Philly Phil and Rocky in the most magical place – Grand Teton National Park, WY, August 11th, 2024
(Just before descending offroad into Lake Solitude… don’t do it, guys, lol!)
Photo taken 41 days before I first heard about the Tour de Suramérica plan
P.S. Phil is very proud of his Philly hat – Go Birds, I guess
The Plan (or Lack Thereof)
So, the plan? Honestly, there isn’t one. We’re starting in Bogotá, Colombia, and heading south(ish). The exact route is still a mystery. The end goal is Patagonia. The trip will probably take 5-6 months, covering approximately 12,000 kilometers. I’m writing this a few days before my flight to Bogotá, and the truth is: we don’t really know how long it’ll take or how far we’ll actually bike.
Compared to the PCT and CDT, where I felt this constant urge to push for bigger days and test my limits – this trip has a different purpose. We just want to ride. Ride through a country. Ride across borders. And let life happen along the way. This time, the goal isn’t about suffering through the “embrace the brutality” mindset from the CDT. This one’s about joy. About slowing down. About meeting people. About being instead of constantly doing and planning. What will that look like exactly? I don’t know. But I’ve got half a year to figure it out.
On a personal note, I also hope this trip finally pushes my Spanish from “functional” to a level where I can proudly say I speak it.
Preparation for the trip
Bike skills: 3/10
Enthusiasm: 8/10
Biking experience: 5/10
Camping experience: 9/10
Mottos for the trip (and life)
It can always be worse – I know there will be a lot of tough moments throughout, but a simple reminder that it can always get worse usually helps me. I just hope I don’t have to tell myself that too many times.
The only thing you have to do is die – everything else you choose. Although at first glance it may sound too nihilistic, deep inside I truly believe a quick reminder that everything I do is my choice helps me see the purpose through the mist.
Gear, labels, and starting as an amateur
By the way – bikepacking and bike touring overlap so much it’s annoying. I still don’t really know the difference. Bikepacking looks cool and sleek, while bike touring is basically your whole life strapped to a bike for an extended period of time.
Every time I see a post on Reddit, a suggested Facebook group, or Instagram, all those bikes look way cooler than mine. The algorithm is working overtime for sure. But I guess it doesn’t matter what kind of bike setup I’ll have – there will always be a million better setups. If people were crossing continents 60 – 80 years ago (at least according to ChatGPT), I can probably manage it too.
There’s just so much information and so many options that it’s easy to get lost in the details. But at the end of the day – any bike works. I remember when I was looking for gear advice for the PCT, I came across a comment on Reddit:
“My late mother always said: if a choice is difficult, then it doesn’t really matter, because that proves the available options have their own merits and on balance they are not far apart. People focus too much on weight and gear choices. As long as you make reasonable choices, you’ll be OK. The specific choice of gear is not going to decide the success of your hike.” – BackpackBirder
I screenshotted that in 2022 and have kept it on my desktop ever since. I look it up whenever I’m in doubt, gear-wise, for any trip. It’s a good reminder of the privileged position I’m in – being able to debate which color pannier bags to take or whether the Brooks C17 saddle is comfortable enough to ride without padded shorts.
I’m entering this as a complete amateur. But honestly, is there any other way to start? My last days feel like a smoothie made from equal parts excitement for the trip, anxiety about what’s coming, joy at having the chance to do what I want, and the uncertainty of not knowing what will happen.
It’s not my first rodeo, but it does sound somewhat scary when I say it out loud. Oh well – I guess that means the challenge is challenging enough.
Kastaneda – Sombrero (sorry, English speakers, that’s the classic Lithuanian)
Y también, me gustaría decir que un poco de este blog estará escrito en español. No es una broma. Pensé que – primero, por qué no, si estoy viajando en Suramérica. Y segundo, quizás sea una buena manera de evaluar cómo cambia mi nivel de español durante el viaje.
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