Where I Began: The Resource That Gave Me the Confidence to Start Bikepacking

When I first became interested in bikepacking, I didn’t know where to begin.

That may sound surprising considering. I’d been mountain biking for more than twenty-five years, but knowing how to ride a bike and knowing how to travel with one into the backcountry are two entirely different things.

I understood mountain biking. I understood endurance. I understood climbing, technical trails, nutrition, and spending long days in the saddle. I knew absolutely nothing about carrying everything I would need on my bike, finding a place to camp, cooking dinner outside, or waking up the next morning to do it all again.

Like many people who discover bikepacking for the first time, I did what seemed most logical. I started researching. I read articles. I watched videos. I compared bags, tents, sleeping quilts, sleeping pads, stoves, and water filters. Every answer seemed to introduce three new questions. How much water do people carry? How do they know where to camp? How do they choose a route? What happens if you get lost? What if the weather changes? What if something breaks? And somewhere in the back of my mind was the question I suspect many first-time solo bikepackers quietly ask themselves: Can I really do this?

Looking back now, I’m grateful for all of those hours I spent learning because they gave me a foundation to build on. But what I didn’t realize at the time was that I wasn’t simply looking for information. I was looking for someone, or something, I could trust. There is no shortage of opinions on the internet. Everyone has a favorite tent, a favorite stove, a favorite bag, a favorite way of packing. As someone who was completely new to bikepacking, I didn’t yet have enough experience to sort through all of that advice and decide what applied to me. That’s when I found BikePacking.com.

It quickly became the place I returned to over and over again, not because it told me what to buy, but because it helped me understand why things mattered. Their gear reviews didn’t feel like advertisements. They felt like conversations with people who had spent countless nights outside and had learned, often through experience, what worked, what didn’t, and why. That distinction mattered to me because I ride a small-frame mountain bike, and I quickly discovered that not every bag, tent, or packing system would work for my bike or the kind of adventures I wanted. Instead of trying to copy someone else’s setup, I slowly began developing my own criteria. As I read more reviews, I found myself asking different questions. Rather than wondering, “Should I buy this?” I started asking, “Does this solve a problem I actually have?” That shift probably saved me from buying a lot of gear I didn’t need and gave me confidence in the gear I eventually chose.

Perhaps the greatest gift BikePacking.com gave me, though, had nothing to do with equipment. It changed how I thought about bikepacking itself.

For years, mountain biking had been closely tied to training and performance. Most of my rides had a purpose beyond simply being outside. I was preparing for a race, completing intervals, building endurance, or working toward another goal. Bikepacking introduced me to a completely different rhythm. Riding became less about performance and more about experience. The goal wasn’t to ride as far or as fast as possible. It was to ride somewhere beautiful, make camp, wake up with the sun, make coffee outside, and continue the journey the next day.

That simple shift felt surprisingly profound.

One article in particular has stayed with me ever since. BikePacking.com describes bikepacking as “the synthesis of mountain biking and minimalist camping.” Those few words captured something I hadn’t been able to articulate myself. I wasn’t leaving mountain biking behind. I was expanding what it could become.

The other realization that changed everything was much simpler. I didn’t have to start with an epic adventure.

Until then, I think I had unconsciously assumed that “real” bikepacking meant disappearing into the mountains for a week with an enormous route and years of experience. What I found instead was permission to begin where I was. A single overnight counted. Riding to a campground close to home counted. Packing my bike, sleeping outside by myself for the first time, and riding home the next morning counted. That realization became my first solo overnighter at White Ranch.

Looking back now, I smile at how nervous I was. I questioned almost everything I packed. I wondered if I had enough food, enough water, enough layers, enough experience. In reality, what I needed most wasn’t another ten hours of research. I needed one night outside.

So, if you are feeling inspired, check out these resources:
- Learn Bikepacking 101
- Start Here with Route planning 
- Discover the route section. There are routes all over the world, and given my goal of starting with overnighters to build my confidence, they even have a section dedicated to them.
- Excellent, tried and true gear reviews

Finally, a bonus! Even if you aren't interested in bikepacking, I encourage you to just visit the website for a dopamine hit! Sometimes I visit the website simply to wander through the photographs. They’re breathtaking. Sweeping mountain vistas, wildflowers, forests, campsites tucked beneath towering trees, and cyclists disappearing into landscapes that seem to stretch forever. Those images continue to expand my imagination. They help me see what is possible.