Nine years ago, Chris Wilson began dreaming of bikepacking the Colorado Trail. This summer, he made it a reality. His latest video showcases 500 miles of world-class riding between Denver and Durango and serves as a reflection on the imaginary standards we impose upon ourselves. Find the hour-long video, photos from the trip, and a written perspective here…
This summer, I finally finished my holy grail ride, the Colorado Trail. Three friends and I rolled out of Denver on August 2nd, aiming to finish in 12 to 14 days. In the end, Paul, Gordon, and I made it to Durango on August 13th, somehow dodging any serious weather along the way; it almost felt like we cheated.

Imposter Syndrome
It feels silly to talk about imposter syndrome in the context of bikepacking. After all, we’re just talking about riding bikes. When and why did I start taking riding bikes so seriously?
I can trace this back nine years, to when I first discovered bikepacking. That’s when I learned about the infamous Colorado Trail. To me, it represented the most alluring parts of bikepacking. It encapsulated the spirit of bikepacking, had an extra cool factor due to the required mountain-biking skills, showcased the ruggedness of the Rockies and high-elevation riding, and is regarded as one of the premier bikepacking routes in the United States. I aspired to ride it one day. In my mind, finishing it would mean I was among the ranks of the “hardcore bikepacker.” Whether I liked it or not, for some reason, this mattered to me.
Nine Years in the Making
It has taken me nine years to finally get here. My self-talk, confidence in my own ability, fear, other commitments, and a lot of excuses have gotten in the way of fulfilling this goal for nearly a decade. With bucket list goals, it’s easy to push them off to the next year. After all, you have your whole life to get it done. What is one more year?

After finishing the Arizona Trail in 2023, I felt equipped with the mental fortitude I’d need for the Colorado Trail—I couldn’t use that as an excuse anymore. In 2024, I made the decision to ride the Oregon Timber Trail instead of the Colorado Trail, as conditions looked good for the notoriously difficult trail to maintain. That made it official: 2025 would be the year for the Colorado Trail. No more excuses.
While I was prepared to go on this trip alone, I somehow managed to rally three friends to join me: Gordon, Paul, and Rob. I met Gordon in 2023 at the start of the AZT. We ended up riding nearly the entire trail together, and I couldn’t imagine a better riding companion for that experience. Paul and I rode the Oregon Timber Trail together in 2024. We had done many overnighters together, but the Timber Trail was our first big trip. He is a strong mountain biker, and a route like the Colorado Trail perfectly matches his riding preferences. And lastly, Rob, the person who, in a roundabout way, got me into bikepacking. He has been my best adventure companion for more than a decade—whether it’s hiking, backpacking, climbing, mountaineering, or bikepacking.

On August 2nd, the four of us pedaled from our rental house in Denver to Waterton Canyon, the official start of the Colorado Trail. Day one does a good job of introducing you to what the rest of the trail will be like. A little bit of champagne gravel, hike-a-bike up steep, chunky singletrack, smooth singletrack descents, sweeping vistas, and an average speed that has you questioning your physical preparation.
A Hard Goodbye
Leading up to the trip, Rob had been sick. It was the kind of sickness that lets you fake it and convince yourself it’s at least worth starting. After all the logistics and planning, it’s hard to bail before you even begin. But by the end of Day 1, it was clear to Rob that continuing would be a bad idea.
I felt gutted that Rob couldn’t continue with us, but I didn’t show it. Rob’s birthday was in six days, and I was hoping we would get to spend it together on the Colorado Trail. I wanted to try to convince him to keep going. We could slow down. We could take more breaks. We could even take a zero day if needed. But I remembered that Rob and I are out here for different reasons. I think Rob came out to ride bikes with friends and go on an adventure. For him, staying true to the trail and finishing are not priorities. So, on the morning of day two, we said farewell to Rob. And then there were three.
Finding Rhythm
After a few days, our trio began to find our rhythm. Paul and I knew that to keep up with Gordon’s pace, we needed to leave camp an hour earlier than he did. We studied our cue sheets before bed, so we knew where the next food resupply would be. We rode. We pushed. We ate. We slept.
The trail was absolutely stunning, but I was surprised by how often it reminded me of the Pacific Northwest back home. I felt lucky to be out there with Paul and Gordon. The trips reminded me of being a kid riding bikes with friends. Life on the trail was simple, and the objective was clear. I was with people I could trust. And while the terrain was hard, I could feel the camaraderie, not just with Paul and Gordon, but with everyone we met along the trail.

No One Cares Except You
On August 13th, 2025, Gordon, Paul, and I reached the western terminus of the Colorado Trail. I did it. I finally did it. As we rolled into a nearly empty parking lot, we were met with a familiar, anticlimactic finish. A signboard and an almost empty lot.
For a moment, it was like we didnt’ know what to do. We lingered awkwardly. I waited for something to hit me. You often hear people say finishing big rides is a life-changing experience, and after dreaming about the Colorado Trail for nine years, I think part of me hoped for some kind of intense reaction. It never came.
Was my imposter syndrome cured? Kind of, but it’s complicated. I don’t think imposter syndrome simply vanishes with an accomplishment. I know there are deeper personal layers to it, but I can now proudly say that I’ve done the Colorado Trail.
After trips like this, the most lasting and important takeaway is the bond and experience I shared with my friends. The video above documents our adventure on the Colorado Trail. It’s a gift to my future self, a reminder of the special moments riding bikes with friends. And it’s a reminder that, in the grand scheme of things, checking the Colorado Trail box is not the important part. It’s the shared experience with Rob, Paul, and Gord that I’ll cherish in the end.
Sharing The Story
Though I make these videos primarily for my friends and myself, I also hope they resonate with others. Putting off a holy grail ride because you feel like an imposter isn’t unique to me. My hope is that at least one person who watches this finds the inspiration and confidence to take on their own holy grail ride—whatever that is, and in whatever style matters to them.

Reflections on gear
When planning for the Colorado Trail, it’s easy to agonize over gear. In my planning, I’m full of contradictions. I want to go fast, but I also want to fish and film. I want to go light, yet I’m carrying a fly rod, a tripod, and a camera. In the end, it’s all a series of compromises shaped by your risk tolerance and how much discomfort you’re willing to endure. These are a few of my reflections.
- If I were to do it again, I’d choose a full-suspension bike (130/120mm) over a hardtail. I rode an El Jefe with a 120mm fork, and while it worked, I felt pretty beat up at the bottom of long descents.
- Quality sleep matters to me. I brought a NeoAir X-Lite sleeping pad, a 20-degree Katabatic quilt, and a Nemo pillow, and I’d bring all of them again without hesitation.
- I carried rain gear that I never used, but there’s no way I’d ride the Colorado Trail without a proper rain jacket and rain pants.
- A dropper post is non-negotiable for me.
- The new Tailfin front rack was excellent. It has several thoughtful features that make packing just a little easier.
- My Mica Rat Tail rack in the rear was also solid. It allowed me to fully use my dropper post and held up great for the entire ride.
- My luxury items were a camera, a tripod, and a fishing rod. Knowing I wasn’t racing, it was absolutely worth carrying them for the experience I wanted.
- Paul ran into issues with his SRAM AXS derailleur, which has me thinking twice about wireless shifting on big trips. I didn’t have any problems, but at a minimum, I’ll pack a bit of foil in my repair kit next time.
Further Reading
Make sure to dig into these related articles for more info…
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