When I started this ride in Banff, I knew there would be challenges.
I expected long climbs, changing weather, mechanical issues, sore legs, and days that would test me physically.
What I did not expect was that life would have different plans.
Over the past few days, I rode from Montana through Idaho and into Wyoming. Along the way, I crossed another milestone by riding the length of Montana, experienced my first cattle drive, watched the landscape transform around Red Rock Pass and into Idaho, and eventually caught my first full view of the Grand Tetons.
The Tetons deserve every bit of their reputation.
For a couple of days I had been catching glimpses of the backside of the range, but riding alongside them into Jackson was something entirely different. I know my family visited here years ago, but I had forgotten just how spectacular they are. There are places that make you stop, take a deep breath, and simply appreciate where you are. The Tetons are one of those places.
The people along this journey have been every bit as memorable as the scenery.
The ride began with Terry and Troy, and I am grateful we were able to share those first miles together. Starting an adventure like this with friends made the transition from months of planning to actually being on the Great Divide even more meaningful.
As the ride unfolded, Chris from Idaho, Darren from Pennsylvania, and David from Minnesota became familiar faces along the route. Somewhere along the way they stopped feeling like people I had met on the trail and started feeling like friends.
Whether we were sharing campsites, meals, long climbs, or conversations at the end of a difficult day, each of them made this experience richer. One of the unexpected gifts of the Great Divide is how quickly complete strangers become people you genuinely look forward to seeing at the end of the day.
Last night our campground was full of bikepackers. Some were riding south like us, while others were heading north from Colorado with hundreds of miles and countless stories already behind them.
Stories were shared around camp, but to be honest, I was not very engaged in the conversations. Knowing I would be heading home the next morning made everything feel a little too real.
Since I knew I would be flying home, I passed along the food I had just purchased that afternoon, along with the camping gear I could not take on the airplane, to other riders. I was genuinely happy to help fellow bikepackers continue their journeys.
At the same time, it was surprisingly difficult. Just hours earlier, I had bought that food expecting to carry it farther south myself. Handing it over, along with pieces of gear that had become part of my daily routine, made it sink in that while everyone else would be riding again the next morning, my journey was taking a different direction.
This morning I hugged Chris and Darren, wished them safe travels, and watched them continue down the trail while I turned toward Jackson.
That was harder than I expected.
Fortunately, I found a bike shop that boxed my bike for the flight home. As luck would have it, there was a Target across the parking lot where I picked up a suitcase for everything else. Sometimes the logistics work out exactly when you need them to.
As much as I am looking forward to seeing my family and my dogs again, I have mixed emotions about leaving the route.
Life has a way of changing even the best laid plans. An unexpected situation required me to head home, bringing this chapter of the ride to a pause.
The details are not important for this story. What matters is that heading home was the right decision.
One thing this ride has reminded me is that some of the most important lessons have nothing to do with cycling. They come from adapting when things do not go according to plan, accepting what you cannot change, and focusing on what you can.
I am leaving because life changed my plans, not because my body told me it was time to stop. In fact, I feel stronger today than I did a week ago. My knee has recovered, the other aches and pains have mostly disappeared, and I finally feel like I have settled into the rhythm of riding day after day.
That makes leaving disappointing, but it also gives me confidence.
When I left Banff, I wondered if I was capable of riding the Great Divide.
After 1,075 miles, I no longer wonder.
From Banff to Jackson, I climbed mountains I once wondered if I could climb, rode through some of the most incredible landscapes I have ever experienced, met people I hope to stay in touch with for years, and discovered things about myself that I could not have learned any other way.
The Great Divide is not going anywhere.
Neither is my desire to finish it.
This is not the ending I imagined. It is simply where this chapter pauses.
Thank you to everyone who has followed along, donated to the American Cancer Society, sent messages of encouragement, and shared in this adventure. Your support made every mile more meaningful, and the fundraiser continues even though the ride is on pause.
The trail will wait.
And one day, I’ll be back.
-Bill