Standup comedian didn’t set out to make fun of mountain biking, snowboarding, and other recreational activities on his Instagram feed. Like many professional comics, Losse, 44, spent several years recording videos of his observational humor to see what resonated with his audience.

He mused on the banalities of middle-aged life, weather in Seattle, and shopping at Costco. But then, about year ago, Losse posted a from his local mountain biking park, Duthie Hill. In the video, Losse showed viewers the park’s gnarly jumps and massive drop offs, and then pointed out the easy trails that he uses to circumnavigate the hard stuff. “The fire road is running really good—super loamy,” Losse says in his trademark sardonic, dry tone.

A few months later, Losse published another video about the absurdity of snowboarding. “Do you enjoy nature but wish it was more stressful? Try snowboarding at a resort on the weekend,” Losse said into camera.

Both videos generated tens of thousands of likes, as the Instagram algorithm distributed them throughout the outdoor community. After that, Losse began in his standup routine, and also in his videos on Instagram. His angle: joke about the very specific and very absurd elements of cycling, snowboarding, and getting outdoors.

We caught up with Losse to understand why cyclists, snowboarders, and other lovers of outdoor activities enjoy his jokes.

OUTSIDE: How did you decide to start making fun of outdoor recreation culture?
Losse: I’d been doing standup for 12 years and had posted videos of my comedy shows forever without getting much traction. A few years ago I started posting videos of me just talking into the camera—observational stuff. I posted one about the absurdity of Microsoft Excel, and how if you want to get ahead in corporate America you just need to know a few excel formulas. That one was a hit,Ěýand for a while I thought I was going to be the office comedy guy. But it never took off.

Then last spring I got back into mountain biking after a few years off, and I realized that the actual media around mountain biking—trail reviews, especially—leaned so heavily into the gnarliest and most extreme terrain. It’s all just rock rolls and huge gaps and features that felt so unattainable. I thought it would be funny to make fun of those. It’s like, I don’t want to ride the trail named “Predator” at Tiger Mountain, I want to know how to ride around that trail without hurting myself.

I made the video about going around the gnarly trails. Honestly, I just thought it was stupid and only funny to me. I didn’t think anybody else would like it. But it turns out a lot of people who love mountain biking aren’t trying to attain mastery. My video struck a chord within the community and got distributed by the algorithm, and it got huge pickup. My buddy joked that I picked up a mountain bike and became an influencer within 60 days.

What elements of outdoor recreation are inherently funny?
There’s a super-obsessive part of biking culture that people don’t really talk about. There’s gear obsession, Strava obsession, and a fixation on parts upgrades and how they will make you better. It’s ridiculous, and all of know it is, but nobody acknowledges it. If anything, I’m shedding light on this collective mental illness we all share. You don’t find that in snow sports quite as much, but in cycling it is very apparent. You buy a new bike and the first thing you do is upgrade the parts. I need new handlebars and new grips. There’s an entire industry built around people being insecure about what they are riding.

Your humor is very much focused at the core audience of these sports, and not at casual followers of outdoor rec. What’s the challenge in reaching hardcore groups?
I feel like it would be easy to make videos where I make jokes about mountain biking in such broad terms that anybody could like it. But that would be boring to me. I just don’t think it’s as funny as being super specific to the things that people obsess about in these sports. Because those are things that I am guilty of. I don’t want to talk shit about activities that I’m not also doing. For instance, I made a video where I joked about gravel biking. I did it because at the time I was building up a gravel bike.

I do think it’s what makes my comedy different. It’s reverential. I am making fun of hyper-specific actions done by people in a group that appeals to people in that sport. And I’m trying not to be corny.

How do you straddle the line between joking and being mean?
My comedic sensibility is that I won’t make fun of something that isn’t part of myself. I don’t seek out communities to make fun of that I’m not part of. That helps. I think that when you make fun of a community you’re not part of, it’s easier to be mean. It’s less reverential, and people can tell.

But not everyone knows that I’m making fun of activities I love. I made a joke about gravel biking—do you like mountain biking but wish it were less fun? Try gravel cycling!—and people were pretty fired up. A lot of folks didn’t appreciate that one. There are very specific communities within cycling, and some of them take themselves way more seriously than others. Most people who get upset don’t see that it’s satire, or they aren’t familiar with me and don’t know that I also do it. So I try to always nod my cap that I love the sport I’m making fun of. I want the community to be clear that they’re not being attacked by an outsider.

What’s the difference between telling jokes in front of a live audience and telling them on Instagram?
My stand-up humor is more autobiographical and observational. It’s a lot about stories growing up in Washington State, being married, and other normal topics. I tell stories about riding my mountain bike, but they are longer, and tend to take weird twists.

Making jokes online that connect with people is hard. I explain that it’s like trying to get struck byĚýlightning. It’s pure luck. Luck and repetition. I’ve found that, since getting a bigger audience, you find your lane and stick with it. And mountain biking and snowboarding became my lane in a very unexpected turn of events.

This interview was edited for space and clarity.Ěý

The post Comedian Scott Losse Didn’t Set Out to Joke About Outdoor Recreation appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

From the top of California’s 2,579-foot Mount Tamalpais, one can gaze out at a commanding view of San Francisco, the Pacific Ocean, and the Golden Gate Bridge. But it wasn’t the overlook that lured 200 mountain bikers to the mountain on the crisp morning of Saturday, November 2.

The cyclists had ridden to the summit on paved and dirt roads in an organized protest. They wanted to show local authorities that mountain bikers deserve to ride on the local trail system—the same dirt paths where mountain biking was born nearly 50 years ago.

“I’m here to free Mount Tam,” Andy Scott, a 59-year-old cyclist from nearby San Anselmo, told şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř. “It was once inhabited by all users, and now only by a limited few.”

Mountain biking has been prohibited on the trails since the mid-eighties, but recent efforts to open the trails back up to cyclists have been gathering steam.

The protest, which was labeled “Liberate Mount Tam” by its organizers, came on the heels of a controversial lawsuit and subsequent court order that had stymied their access to the trails. In April, the Marin Municipal Water District, the government agency that manages much of the public land on the mountain, approved two pilot programs to allow cyclists access to 6.6 miles of trails on the peak.

The approval came after six years of planning, community outreach, studies, and lobbying by local cycling advocacy groups. The trails were set to open to mountain bikers Friday, October 4.

But the afternoon before the opening, a judge issued a temporary restraining order that halted progress. Three local environmental groups—Marin Conservation League, California Native Plant Society, and Marin Audubon—filed a lawsuit to block the plan. They argued that the Water District failed to comply with the California Environmental Quality Act, which requires public land managers to investigate and then publish the impact of a wide range of projects, from trail building to forest thinning.

The lawsuit did not sit well with the mountain bikers or the cycling advocacy groups.

“The Marin County Bicycle Coalition has gone out of its way to collaborate with Marin Conservation League and others over the years in an earnest desire to hear and understand their concerns,” said Krista Hoff, the off-road director of the local advocacy group Marin County Bicycle Coalition (MCBC). “They are not interested in equitable access.”

But officials from environmental groups disagree, and say they are simply doing what’s right to protect Mount Tamalpais’s ecology from damage. “The Marin Conservation League’s interest is in moderating growth in intensity of recreation so that it does not cause further impacts,” says Nona Dennis, president of the Marin Conservation League. “All recreation has an impact on the environment.”

The development is just the latest skirmish in a decades-long war that cyclists have waged to legally ride the trails in mountain biking’s birthplace.

How Mountain Bikes Were Chased Off Mount Tamalpais

In the seventies, a rag-tag group of local cyclists including Gary Fisher, Joe Breeze, Wende Cragg, Charlie Kelly, and Otis Guy modified beach cruisers and rode them down the trails and fire roads on Mount Tam. The group ” and their adventurous rides helped launch modern mountain biking.

But many Marin County locals didn’t like cyclists riding the trails. Citing environmental and safety concerns, well-organized groups attended town meetings and wrote to their elected officials, asking to ban the new form of recreation. By 1984, local authorities officially shut down Mount Tam’s trails to cyclists.

“We really couldn’t understand the hostility from the land managers,” Otis Guy, who is now 71 years old and was at the recent November protest, told şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř. “We care about these lands. We should be considered an asset, not a threat.”

Similar rules spread across California and the country in the eighties and nineties. Disputes over trail usage often pitted mountain bikers against hikers and equestrians, with the latter user groups regularly gaining the upper hand. In Marin and nearby Alameda County, rules restricted bicycles to dirt maintenance roads, which are 12-to 15-feet wide, and usually steep. The single-track trails, meanwhile, were off-limits.

The loss of trail access prompted in 1988. Called the International Mountain Biking Association, or IMBA, it advocated for cyclists’ access to trails, and showed local mountain biking communities how to build and manage trail systems.

Local cycling advocacy groups like Access 4 Bikes and MCBC also pressured Marin officials to allow cyclists onto the trails. These groups helped mountain bikers gain access to other trail systems in Marin County in the early 2000s. But the dirt trails on Mount Tam remained off-limits.

“We’re still fighting the same stupid battles today,” Guy said. “IMBA showed the world years ago how to build trails, and it’s been done with no [negative] impact across the country. But Marin County is a different place.”

A Process That Took Years to Complete

The pilot program to allow mountain bikes on Mount Tam took six years to come together.

Biking advocacy groups also worked to nominate cycling-friendly managers onto the Marin Water District’s board of directors. Since 2020, Bill Keene, a board member for the cycling advocacy group Access 4 Bikes has knocked on approximately 2,000 doors in Marin County to stump for bike-friendly candidates for the water board.

Both Access 4 Bikes and the Marin County Bicycle Coalition persuaded their members to attend local hearings, board meetings, and community hikes, and to write letters on behalf of cyclists. The advocacy work paid off. In April, the board voted unanimously to approve the two pilot programs for the 6.6-miles of trail: one for regular mountain bikes and another for e-mountain bikes.

Officials from bike advocacy groups told şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř that the local environmental groups were part of the planning process and had years to raise concerns. “They were at the meetings, they had a seat at the table,” Guy said. “This is how cooperative people and processes work.”

But representatives from environmental groups told şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř that the Marin Water District failed to provide detailed reports on how mountain biking would impact the flora and fauna on Mount Tamalpais during this process.

Dennis told şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř that the Marin Water District also failed to disclose which trails or roads would be open to cyclists until 2024.

“The first two to three years were mostly talk, with no reference to any specific roads or trails on the watershed, nor even tentative improvement proposals” Dennis said.

The lawsuit claims that the water district’s land “contains critical biological resources, including dozens of rare plant species and plant communities,” and that “the addition of mountain bikes and e-bikes to these trails and roads has the potential to harm these resources.”

Dennis said that the Marin Water District failed to acknowledge that some e-bikes motors emit a high-frequency noise that can disrupt bat colonies. And the plan didn’t explain how the increased use would impact the northern spotted owl, a threatened species.

“A CEQA review would have included such analyses, and furthermore, would allow for public comment,” she said.

The Marin Water District declined a request for an interview. But in a press release, a spokesperson for the water district said it took the requisite steps asked for prior to approving the mountain biking pilot program. “The District worked hard to assess watershed trail conditions, monitor trail use data and engage with a range of user groups in order to design trial programs that allow for expanded recreational interests without compromising our number one priority—protection of our community’s drinking water and the biological diversity that exists within this incredible natural resource,” the release said.

Keene, who oversees advocacy for Access 4 Bikes, said the lawsuit caught the cycling groups by surprise. “Marin Conservation League indicated they would not sue,” he said. “Pilot trails were selected to avoid environmentally sensitive areas and the litigants know this.”

But Dennis said her group made no such promise. Instead, she says her group sent a letter to the Marin Water District prior to a hearing in early September warning of a potential legal challenge. When the Water District approved the pilot program, Dennis said her group felt like it had no other option.

“The MCL Board determined we had only one recourse: that is, to join the other two non-profits as a co-plaintiff,” she said. “In our view the district’s failure to conduct adequate CEQA review before opening the trails to bikes, was an abuse of CEQA.”

The Pilot Programs Are Stalled but Not Dead

şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř attended the November 2 rally on Mount Tamalpais and spoke to more than a dozen cyclists in attendance. At the November 2 rally, many of the cyclists expressed their dismay.

“There are dams on Mount Tam, there are miles upon miles of roads, there was a train to the top,” said Vernon Huffman, president of Access 4 Bikes. “You can’t tell me that this place is free of human impact and that bikes are an environmental harm.”

But for the time being, the status quo remains on Mount Tamalpais. No e-bikes are allowed anywhere in the watershed—even on fire roads—and bicycles are forbidden on the singletrack trails. The pilot programs are on hold indefinitely. In December, a Marin County judge strengthened the environmental groups’ position by issuing preliminary injunctions on both the e-bike and singletrack pilot programs.

The injunction doesn’t entirely kill the program, but it will prevent it from happening in early 2025.

Whether or not this setback deters the mountain bikersĚýon Mount Tamalpais is yet to be seen. Hoff wrote a letter to the Marin Independent Journal saying she was hopeful that “the case will be decided in favor of more equitable recreational opportunities for people who ride.”

Atop Mount Tam on November 2, Keene and Huffman stood in the bed of a pickup truck and addressed the cyclists from a bullhorn.

“This is the way to take back Tam!” they yelled.

The crowd responded with a chant that pinged across the parking lot “Liberate Tam! Liberate Tam!”

The post Inside the Battle to Ride Mountain Bikes on Mount Tamalpais appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

´ˇĚýĚýof this article originally appeared onĚýPinkbike.Ěý

It’s easy to become part of an echo chamber. Pinkbike often gets lost in the finer points of mountain bike technology, from suspension platforms to frame flex. But what kind of questions are people asking about mountain biking outside the platform? For one, what are the best mountain bikes for beginners? Below, Pinkbike’s editors offer concise answers to the ten most common mountain bike-related questions on search engines, social media, and online forums.

1. What Is the Best Mountain Bike for Beginners?

One you can afford. Don’t let the average mountain biker’s obsession with technology make you think you need all the latest features to have fun.

If you’re new to the sport, getting advice and after-sales support from a local shop can be invaluable. On the other hand, if you’re happy to take more risk and willing to do your own research, second-hand or direct sales bikes offer less daunting prices.

You may hear that you simply have to start mountain biking on a hardtail because it teaches you better skills. The truth is it teaches different skills. Hardtails are the way to go for those on a tight budget (under around $1,500 if buying new) as the cheapest full-suspension bikes are usually too compromised to be worth recommending.

If you’ve got a bigger budget, a solid trail bike with 130-160 millimeters of suspension travel and modern geometry should help build confidence (and with it, skill) faster and more painlessly than the sketchy hardtails many of us learned to ride on. Get a bike that’s appropriate for the trails you want to ride most often, but has the potential to tackle more challenging terrain as your skills improve.

2. How Much Does a Good Mountain Bike Cost?

You certainly don’t need to splash out for a top-end bike to get something that performs just as well. For a bare-bones entry-level hardtail, budget around $1,500 for one that will allow you to get stuck into some serious riding. But if you want a full-suspension bike that’s going to satisfy a keen mountain biker, the best bang-for-buck is usually around $3,000 if buying new. The more you can afford up to that amount, the better the bike you can get, but above that, the benefits soon start to plateau.

The good news is that it’s a buyer’s market right now so there are lots of good deals if you shop around.

3. How Do I Maintain my Mountain Bike?

1. Wash it when it’s dirty.
2. Clean and lubricate the chain after every ride. After washing the bike, run it through a rag to wipe off dirt and water, then lubricate it with mountain-bike-specific chain lube.
3. Check the tire pressures before every ride (see question eight).
4. Regularly do an “M-check,” inspecting for loose bolts, play, or worn parts. Starting at the rear wheel, check the brake, tire, axle and derailleur, then move on to the saddle and seatpost, then the cranks, bottom bracket and pedals, then the cockpit and headset, and finally the front wheel and brake. These five locations make a capital “M” shape, which makes it easy to remember.
5. Have the suspension serviced and brakes bled at least once per year.

4. What Are the Benefits of Full Suspension Versus a Hardtail?

The obvious benefit to a full suspension bike is that it cushions the impacts on rough terrain, making it easier to ride fast without getting bounced off-line or having your teeth rattled loose. They also offer more grip because the wheels are more consistently pressed into the ground. Most serious riders and racers use full-suspension bikes for every discipline these days, from downhill to cross country. Even gravel bikes sometimes have suspension now.

On the other hand, hardtails are usually much less expensive—or offer better parts and frame quality for the same price—making them the go-to option for those on a tight budget. There’s less to go wrong and no pivots or rear shock to service, too. Apples-to-apples, hardtails are usually lighter and transmit slightly more of your pedal power to the ground, making them fractionally faster on smooth climbs (this is why hardtails still get used occasionally for smoother cross-country courses). Also, some (strange) people just prefer the challenge of riding without rear suspension.

5. How Do You Choose the Right Frame Size?

These days, most manufacturers provide a size guide on the geometry tab of their website; this is a reliable indicator for most people. There’s often a range of rider heights that overlap between two sizes. In this case, size down if you want more agile handling or size up if you want more stability for fast terrain.

For more on this, see our guide to modern bike sizing. If possible, try and arrange a test ride or talk to the manufacturer for a personalised recommendation.

6. What Are the Best Upgrades for My Mountain Bike?

It depends on what components your bike has, but common upgrades that make a big difference without costing the earth include comfy grips and a saddle that fit your body better; tubeless tires that are appropriate to the riding you usually do, and a dropper post if you don’t already have one. Better brakes can massively improve confidence too, but you don’t always have to spring for a whole set – bigger rotors (larger diameter or thicker) and fresh brake pads (sintered for wet weather) can boost power and consistency.

7. What’s the Difference Between Cross-Country, Trail, Enduro, and Downhill Bikes?

Cross country (XC) races are usually won or lost on the climbs, so XC bikes are designed to excel when going uphill, with minimum weight and efficient suspension. Modern examples have 100-120 millimeters of suspension travel and can weigh as little as 24 pounds. Descending is still important, especially in modern cross country, so XC bikes often have dropper posts and slack head angles, but the geometry is still less confidence-inspiring than trail bikes. Also, the handlebars are typically much lower. Almost all modern XC bikes have 29-inch wheels.

“Trail” isn’t a racing discipline, so trail bikes are designed to be fun. They should be light enough to enjoy rather than endure climbs but usually with a stronger emphasis on descending capability. They typically have 130-150 millimeters of suspension travel which makes them pretty capable when the trail gets hectic but not so much that they feel lethargic in flowy terrain. Most have 29-inch wheels, though recently many have a 27.5-inch wheel at the back or the option to run either.

Enduro bikes may look like trail bikes, but they’re designed with much more bias towards descending. In enduro racing, it’s only the descents that are timed, so climbing performance takes a back seat (although some enduro bikes climb surprisingly well). They have 160-180 millimeters of travel, tough tires, big brakes and burly components. Many enduro bikes weigh well over of 35 pounds. Some have 29-inch wheels front and rear and some have a 27.5-inch wheel at the back. Many can accept either rear wheel size.

Downhill bikes are not designed to be pedaled uphill at all. They have 200 millimeters of suspension travel or more, stiff dual-crown forks, and close-ratio gearing. Because they do not need a dropper post or wide-range cassette, they are often no heavier than enduro bikes. In recent years, most have moved to mixed wheels (29-inch front, 27.5-inch rear) though some can still accept 29-inch wheels at both ends.

Mountain bike disciplines are more of a spectrum than distinct categories; it’s perfectly possible to take your trail bike on a cross-country ride and visa-versa. There are also tongue-in-cheek sub-categories that seek to split the difference even further, such as “downcountry” (a compromise between trail and XC) or “all-mountain,” which fits in between trail and enduro.

8. What Tire Pressure Should I Run on My Mountain Bike?

This varies depending on rider weight, tire construction, terrain, and riding style. But a good place to start is to ignore the pressures printed on the tire sidewall—they’re usually a maximum rather than a recommendation. Most riders should start at pressures between 20 psi and 30 psi. Go towards the lower end of that range if you’re lighter, less confident, or riding slippy terrain. Go higher if you’re heavier, riding hard, or the trails are rocky. It’s usually a good idea to run about 3 psi more pressure in the back tire than the front, as it takes more weight.

Use a pressure gauge to measure tire pressures before each ride and experiment to find what works for you. It doesn’t have to be a fancy gauge, but ideally, it should be the same one every time. Usually, you’re looking for the lowest pressure you can get away with before the tire starts to collapse in corners or when you start to feel the tire hitting the rim when riding over rocks.

Tubeless repair plugs can be surprisingly effective. (Photo: Richard Cunningham)

9. How Do I Repair a Puncture on a Trail?

Option 1: If it’s a tubeless tire, find the hole and push a puncture repair plug into it. Afterwards, trim the excess. When you get home, you may want to stick a puncture repair patch to the inside of the tire. This will help long term, but just be sure to do so after cleaning the tire.

Option 2: If option 1 fails or the tire isn’t tubeless, insert an inner tube to get you home. When you get home you can patch the tire or the tube with a puncture repair kit.

Option 3: If you haven’t got a spare tube, remove the tube and locate the puncture. You can do this by inflating the tube with a pump. Fix the puncture with a patch kit.

Option 4: Borrow an inner tube from a friend in exchange for future beers.

Option 5: Give up. Cry. Walk home. Get back late. Cry more.

10. How Do I Improve My Technical Mountain-Biking Skills?

• Ride more.
• Book a coaching course.
• Regularly practice a short section of trail several times.
• Get your friends to film your riding so you can see where to improve.
• Watch Pinkbike’s .
• Ride more.

The post The Internet’s Most Common Mountain-Bike Tech Questions Answered appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

In traveling, I’ve always chosen to go it alone rather than not go at all. Over the years, friends have called me fearless. Don’t you get scared? they ask. Very rarely. Lonely? Honestly, never, even before the days of social media. And isn’t it more expensive to travel by yourself than with others? Traditionally, yes. Solo travelers often got slapped with single-supplement, or premium, hotel and tour fees, but since the pandemic, companies have started courting solo travelers. Priceline even held its first-ever .

, safety, loneliness, and expense are the three biggest reasons people hate to travel solo. But I’ve been adventuring on my own for more than two decades, and I find it freeing. I can travel at my own pace and on my own budget. I can easily score a table for one—even at top restaurants that often require bookings weeks in advance. And I connect more with locals.

More people are catching on to the appeal of solo travel, however, especially Gen Zers and Millennials. Google searches for solo travel have increased 223 percent over the past decade, and according to a , 50 percent of Americans planned to travel alone in 2024. And while women have led the indie trip trend in recent years, men are joining the ranks. A from the travel booking site Omio found that 30 percent of men, compared to 23 percent of women, have solo journeys planned for 2025.

If you’ve hesitated to give solo travel a go, let me alleviate your concerns and suggest some of my favorite places for awesome adventuring on your own.

Always Consider Safety First

Certain destinations lend themselves to solo travel more than others. Certainly, safety is top of mind.

I scan the U.S. State Department’s and avoid countries of conflict. I also browse the (GPI), an annual ranking of nations based on factors like the absence of violence or fear of violence, a nation’s level of harmony or discord, and its degree of militarization. Coming into 2025, Iceland, Ireland, and Austria are the safest three countries in the world, according to the overall GPI score.

, which also researches and ranks the safest places to visit each year, is another great resource. Rankings are based on an average of “all measures from [BHTP’s] State of Travel Insurance research,” and factor in other indices including the Global Peace Index and information from sources like , a destination database that scores living conditions. Berkshire Hathaway puts Iceland, Australia, and Canada as top three for safety, with Ireland close behind.

In addition to its list, Berkshire Hathaway provides write-ups that touch on smart considerations to take into account in each of the high-ranking nations, from dangerous wildlife like box jellyfish in Australia to driving on the left-hand side of the road in Ireland to expensive emergency-evacuation costs in remote destinations of northern Norway.

My 6 Favorite Solo-Travel Destinations

Some of my picks are at the top of the Berkshire Hathaway and Global Peace Index lists, but I cast a wider lens to explore off-the-beaten-path destinations. In particular, such places have satisfied my craving for big doses of nature and adventure.

Portugal

The GPI ranked Portugal the seventh-safest country in the world in 2024. It’s also a bargain compared to most Western European countries (a draft of craft beer cost me $3 in Lisbon compared to $8 in Paris), and the effortlessly connects the northern and southern regions.

I’ve visited this country solo four times and have always found the locals extremely hospitable. On my first trip, I checked out the beach town of Sagres in the southern region of Algarve and met two couples from Lisbon who offered to drive me back to the city. One of the women took off work the next day to be my tour guide, and that evening she and her husband threw a dinner party for me at their home.

I love making solo surf trips up and down Portugal’s coast. Hotels like (from $200) in Santa Cruz and (from $73), just north in the town of Peniche, have a clubhouse vibe and offer activities and events—like rooftop music sessions—that make it easy to meet new friends. Both places can arrange board rentals, lessons, and English-speaking guides.

If you, too, fall hard for the country, Portugal’s recently introduced makes it easy to pursue residency while working remotely.

Costa Rica

Pura vida vibes have always made me feel welcome in Costa Rica. The State Department’s Level 2 advisory recommends that trip-goers use increased caution here, due to petty crime risks and natural hazards like earthquakes (which are common-ish here, with events of magnitude 7 about every decade). For 2025, Berkshire Hathaway Costa Rica the sixth-safest place in the world for female, BIPOC, and LGBTQIA+ travelers.

Surf towns such as Nosara and Santa Teresa along the Pacific Coast attract a lot of Americans and have small expat communities. , a hotel brand catering to digital nomads with coworking spaces as well as rooms, has eight outposts in Costa Rica, including in Nosara, Santa Teresa, and Monteverde (shared dorms from $24). These properties host music events and arrange local experiences for guests.

On the Caribbean Coast, I’m a big fan of the boutique hotel (from $365), which is part of the sustainability-focused Cayuga Collection. The hotel works with local guides and outfitters to arrange snorkeling excursions and hiking day trips in Cahuita National Park, including for solo guests. The place also offers free bike use, which I love for exploring the nearby town on my own.

CanadaĚý

Canadians have a reputation for being incredibly friendly, and that as well as proximity to the U.S. and our shared language are bonuses. highlighted the country’s low crime rate and noted that wildlife like bears and moose posed some of the biggest dangers to visitors.

Vancouver and Montreal, great jumping-off points for the wilderness, ranked two and three, respectively, on a that see the most solo-travel searches on the travel site Kayak and the most solo-dining reservations on OpenTable.

Canada has 37 national parks and 11 national park reserves, as well as two beautiful coasts. I’ve made friends while soaking in the swimming-pool-sized hot tub at (from $250) in Alberta’s Banff National Park. I’ve also plotted solo snowboard trips to , British Columbia, to coincide with the Natural Selection Tour freestyle competition, knowing I’d meet like-minded travelers.

If you’re wary of wandering the wilderness alone, sign up for a guided trek with a local outfitter. I like the .

Another low-stress option is crisscrossing the country via rail. The Rocky Mountaineer’s from Vancouver to Banff takes just two days and is staffed with storytellers who can shed light on indigenous sites and wildlife. It offers single-berth accommodations from $1,752.

Australia

Australia has long been a magnet for backpackers. I spent nearly a year in my twenties backpacking mostly solo around the country’s east coast, and the biggest dangers were crocodiles, snakes, and jellyfish. Despite its resident poisonous critters, Berkshire Hathaway Travel Protection scored AustraliaĚý the second-safest place in the world to travel for 2025.

Affordable and clean hostels, like (from $140) in Queensland’s Daintree Rainforest, abound and are filled with other solo travelers. is a beach-club-vibe hostel brand with Queensland locations in Noosa, Cairns, and Airlie Beach (from $32 for a spot in a mixed dorm).

Australia is a fantastic destination for hiking. is a collection of 13 treks that you can do yourself or with a guide. I spent four days traversing the wildlife-filled in Tasmania, opting for a guide via the local outfitter the because I wanted to learn more about the flora, fauna, and culture on the island (from $1,900, all-inclusive). The first two nights we stayed in secluded, simple bush camps near the beach ($7), and the final night we were pampered in the recently renovated historic-home-turned-hotel, Bernacchi House.

If you’re sticking to the mainland, the in the state of Victoria is a very doable 27 miles over four days along the Great Ocean Road, with campsites en route. The walk is suitable for hikers of any experience and takes in the shipwreck-dotted coastline, wild beaches, and Great Otway and Port Campbell National Parks.

Austria

Austria is a fantastic option for solo alpine adventures. The country is ranked third on the Global Peace Index and fifth worldwide in terms of safety by the . Most locals speak English, and a great public transportation network makes it easy to travel car-free. If you’re deciding between alpine destinations, consider that the cost of living in Switzerland is higher than in Austria, and that affects tourism; in general, expect lodging and meals in Austria to cost half of what you’d pay in Switzerland.

The runs a network of more than 170 huts, where it’s easy to engage with other hikers. Most mountain resorts, such as or or have guided hiking, biking, and paddling tours that allow you to mingle with others. And many villages offer special . I met some friends on a solo trip to the , held each September.

Bhutan

Solo travel, for me, has been the perfect way to do some soul searching when I’m making big decisions or going through a transition. And one of the most soulful places I’ve ever visited is the Kingdom of Bhutan. It is a place of beauty and spirituality, and travelers here are required to have a guide, which is an exceptional way to become familiar with the culture.

Six years ago, I went on assignment on a solo ten-day guided trip of this Southeast Asia nation and learned so much, including the proper way to throw a dart (this is a traditional sport in Bhutan) and about dating habits here (yes, there’s Tinder in Bhutan). I still keep in touch with my guide, who was a woman, on WhatsApp.

Bhutan is ranked 21 on the Global Peace Index, and it’s a mecca for hiking and mountain biking—the king is an avid mountain biker, and my guide and I spotted him one day on the trail. While getting there from the U.S. isn’t cheap, nor are costs within the country, visits are slightly more affordable since the kingdom halved its daily tourist fee from $200 to $100 last year.

Phil Bowen of should be your go-to logistician to find a guide, driver, and accommodations, which can range from homestays to splurge-worthy hotels. (from $550, half-board, meaning room, breakfast, and one other meal) is one of the most memorable places I’ve stayed in throughout my global travels.

5 Tips for Solo Travelers, From a Pro

Here are some tips and tricks for making the most of a solo trip.Ěý

Share Your Plans

I always email my mom my rough itinerary. It includes the contact information for any hotels I’ve already booked or the names of campsites where I plan to stay. I also regularly check in with her or a good friend via What’s App or email to let them know I’ve reached a destination safely and when I’m moving on to my next stop.

Eat at the Restaurant’s Bar

I absolutely love dining alone at the bar. It’s usually easy to score a single seat, and before long I’m chatting with some fascinating local characters. Bartenders are often fantastic sources of local intel and can direct you to good restaurants and the best hiking and mountain-biking trails. Finally, happy-hour specials are a great way to save a few bucks.

Watch and Post on Message Boards

If you’re craving companionship, you might post on social-media channels like Facebook and Instagram—you never know who in your circles, or your friends’ circles, is headed to the same place as you—or use the Friends setting on apps like Bumble. Many hotels and hostels, and often the local grocery store, still have bulletin boards with postings for local activities, like free yoga sessions or group hikes.

Pack Meds

Being alone isn’t so great when you fall ill in a far-flung place. In many countries it’s manageable: you can walk into a pharmacy, explain your symptoms, and get what you need. But I recently suffered through a debilitating urinary-tract infection in Morocco, and now I never travel without the broad-spectrum antibiotic I needed. I convinced my doctor to prescribe one in case I get that sick on the road again.

Don’t Second-Guess Yourself

Trust your gut. If something feels unsafe, it probably is. The very few times I’ve gotten food poisoning have been when actions went against my instinct. Don’t be afraid to be impolite. Once, in Varanasi, India, an elderly woman offered me a glass of sketchy looking lassi. I felt rude saying no, and all it took was one sip to give me Delhi Belly. I knew better.

You should also follow your intuition. When I meet strangers and feel genuine good vibes, I will accept an invitation to share a ride or join for a meal in someone’s home. These chance encounters have rewarded me with some wonderful friends and experiences over the years.

Jen Murphy is °żłÜłŮ˛őľ±»ĺ±đ’s online travel-advice columnist. She has had some of her most memorable adventures while traveling solo, from dancing with a local tribe in the Omo Valley of Ethiopia to joining members of the Indian army on a run in Delhi. Her journal and a good book have always served as great companions. She has also recently written an ultimate guide to winter fun in a choice selection of mountain towns in Colorado, a guide for anyone new to adventure travel in Costa Rica, and the funniest things travelers ask their adventure guides. There are doozies.

The post I’ve Been Traveling Solo for Decades. Here Are My Pro Tips and Favorite Countries to Visit. appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

There isn’t much to Davis, West Virginia (population 581). Its downtown is only a few blocks long. There’s no movie theater, no Starbucks. The entire county has one stoplight. You could feasibly drive through Davis and miss it entirely if you were engrossed in a good podcast.

Davis sits on the northern rim of Canaan Valley, a broad, high-elevation basin roughly 2.5 hours west of Washington, D.C. It’s surrounded by 4,000-foot peaks, most managed as public land, and hubs for hiking, biking, and skiing. But Davis’s best attribute? It’s full of people stoked to be here.

Why I Love Visiting Davis, West Virginia, Year-Round

Some might be deterred by Davis’s lack of sushi or nightlife or community theater or even a Target. But I’ve been going there for 20 years, and every time I visit I’m mesmerized by the town’s bounty. The few restaurants are great for such a small town, there’s a proud beer scene, and access to outdoor adventure is off the charts.

Just ask Ian Beckner, a Davis native who moved away for college, then bounced around to other mountain towns before settling back in Davis to open a ski shop.

“There’s just so much here—so many trails, such good skiing,” he says. “People usually have to work two jobs to make ends meet”—there are no large employers or industries in the area—“but they don’t care too much about money. They just want to be here. Once you’re here, you don’t leave. I can’t tell you the last time I drove more than an hour away.”

The adventure portfolio is exceptionally diverse, considering Davis’s location in the southern Appalachians, a region not renowned for robust winter-sports opportunities. But this particular nook of West Virginia has four distinct seasons. Mountain biking rules the warm months and skiing takes center stage in the winter, thanks to a hefty average snowfall and a trio of ski resorts. And West Virginia gets powder: Lake Effect snow from the Great Lakes on one side, and storms from the Northeast coast on the other. On average, it enjoys more than 150 inches of snow annually. Compare that to the 30 to 40 inches of snow that typically fall on ski resorts in neighboring Virginia.

I can’t decide if I like Davis more when it’s warm or has powder on the ground. I’ve logged countless miles on the valley’s notoriously rocky and rooty singletrack and celebrated epic rides with friends by passing around jars of moonshine. I’ve also floated through knee-deep powder in both lift-served and backcountry glades. Ditto with sharing the moonshine then, too.

The Great Mountain-Biking-Versus-Skiing Debate

So which is better? The mountain biking or the skiing? This is something debated by locals.

On the one hand, hundreds of miles of singletrack wind through adjacent state-park, national-forest, and national-wildlife-refuge land. Remember the hardcore 24-hour mountain-bike races that were so popular in the ’90s and early 2000s? They began here, with the 24 Hours of Canaan.

On the other hand, you can be at either of the downhill ski resorts, the 95-acre Canaan Valley and 100-acre Timberline, in about 10 minutes. Each offers more than 1,000 vertical feet of skiing, as well as a touring center that pulls in hundreds of cross-country junkies daily when there’s fresh snow.

“The skiing is what attracted me first,” says Todd Romero, who moved to Davis in 2011, switching jobs from the tech industry to the public-school system and taking a huge pay cut in the process. “When there’s a solid base of snow, and you can ski the trees. It’s amazing. But the mountain biking is like nowhere else. I’ve been to other bike towns, but you have to drive to the trailhead. Here in town you’re at the trailhead.”

The More Some Things Change…

As a Davis outsider, I’d say the town hasn’t changed much in two decades. The mountains surrounding town keep it relatively isolated, as do the serpentine roads between it and larger burgs. Locals say housing prices have skyrocketed and those in the service industry say they have a hard time making rent. It’s tough to find rental data on a town of this size, but in general have climbed almost 4 percent each year since the pandemic. And it’s only getting pricier; according to , home prices in Davis jumped 10 percent in the last year alone, with the average home value sitting at just under $330K. Davis is suffering from the second-home crunch that has impacted just about every mountain town I know of in the past decade. The same thing is happening in my hometown of Asheville, North Carolina.

Beckner says there are now more restaurants to accommodate increasing numbers of visitors (the amount of money the county collects via hotel tax has almost doubled in the last decade, according to the ), and the downhill resorts are more crowded on weekends. But the Davis of today still feels like the Davis from his childhood, he says.

“We’re still a small town. It’s not commercialized,” Beckner says. “We have all these miles of trail, but still only one bike shop. We might have more of an influx of people trying to enjoy the vibe that we all live with, that’s true, but the core value is still what it was when I was a kid. People are here to get outdoors.”

Beckner tells me that his favorite weekly event is the weekly mountain-bike group ride, the epicenter of Davis’s social scene.

“If it’s Thursday night, you know where everyone will be. It feels like the whole town rides together, and then we all go get burritos together, and then we all go to the brewery together,” he says. “You’re mingling with your doctor and your accountant and your kid’s teacher. It’s loud, and it’s always a party. It doesn’t matter what you wear, what bike you’re on, everyone is out enjoying what we have.”

Without further ado, here’s the best of Davis and the surrounding Canaan Valley.

What’s Cool About the Winter in Davis, West Virginia

Skiing and Snowboarding

Two downhill resorts are minutes apart from each other. , part of Canaan Valley State Park, has loads of blue and green terrain, perfect for families and beginners. More advanced skiers can head for the fun, mellow glades off the black-diamond Dark Side of the Moon, from the top.

has steeper terrain and better tree skiing. It also has a high-speed six chair that gets you to the summit in under five minutes, so you can knock out laps until your quads quake. Pearly Glades, closer to the base area, offers steep pitches with comfortable space between trees, but mainly you’ll find tight tree runs all over this mountain, so you’ll need to focus. , downtown, has all the gear you need.

As great as the downhill skiing is, to me, the is what makes winter in Davis truly special. It offers more than 25 kilometers of groomed cross-country trails and more than 60 kilometers of ungroomed trails that climb and descend some 1,200 vertical feet. This isn’t flat-road skiing but backcountry fun). A dozen warming huts are scattered throughout the system, most stocked with pieces of chocolate. The Whitegrass ł¦˛ą´ÚĂ© and gear shop welcomes skiers with a warm après scene that includes multiple firepits, and Chip Chase, the center’s owner and a local legend, often mills around, sharing stories and his personal stash of whiskey.

Biking

Cyclists don’t have to give up riding just because it’s winter. A local trail builder, , has started grooming more than eight miles of fat-bike trails at Canaan Valley State Park. The place is even a stop on an annual that hits the valley and a few other spots in West Virginia and Maryland.

Ultimate Sledding

If you have kids, hit up the sled run at , which has a magic carpet and a hot-chocolate hut.

How to Maximize the Warm Months in DavisĚý

Hike, Fish, and (Much) More

Dolly Sods Wilderness, a small but spectacular 17,000-acre roadless area known for its high-elevation bogs and rocky outcroppings, is the destination for hiking and backpacking. Hit for fly-fishing, creek stomping (wading and exploring), and hiking on paths that range from easy three-mile out-and-backs to multiday 20-mile loops.

I have never yet played the golf course at Canaan Valley State Park, but I would love to.

Biking

But if you’re coming to Davis, you’re bringing mountain bikes. The singletrack is notoriously difficult and, at least in my opinion, all uphill. That’s part of the charm.

If you agree that rocks are fun, start with , which forms the backbone of the singletrack within Canaan Valley. Many offshoots and well-worn social trails branch off this eight-mile point-to-point route, and I guarantee you’ll get off your bike at least once during particularly spicy sections, so give it twice as much time as you think you’ll need.

Don’t fret if that sounds like more torture than fun; some new, machine-groomed flow trails have been built for us mere mortals. Hit , a six-mile swoopy loop in Canaan Valley State Park. has beta, rentals, and gear.

Where to Eat and Drink in Davis, West Virginia

Davis and the Canaan Valley only have a few restaurants, but those have everything I crave when I’m there.

and , serving pizza, are staples. But my favorite place to eat is at Whitegrass, whose caters to a more elevated palate; its great vegetarian chili hits just right on a cold afternoon. Sometimes there’s live music, and the specials change daily, but there’s always a crowd of rosy-nosed cross-country skiers, fresh off the trails and hungry, clustered in a handful of tables in the middle of the gear and rental shop. The place is cozy, loud on a busy afternoon, and really fun. When it’s time for a beer, head to , the locals’ favorite drinking hole.

Where to Stay in Davis

You’ll find Airbnbs throughout the valley, including a option attached to the bike shop. The lovely has lodge rooms and cabins fresh off a renovation (from $178.50), as well as campsites with electricity. I’ve camped in my 4Runner here in the winter, running a space heater from the outlet. Searching for something a bit more sophisticated? Book a night at the ten-room , and enjoy its mid-century vibe (from $100).

Graham Averill of Asheville, North Carolina, is şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online’s national-parks columnist. He’s hoping to bring his wife and kids to Davis this winter to ski at White Grass and sled on the hill in Blackwater Falls State Park. He recently wrote about theĚýmost beautiful towns in the SoutheastĚýand theĚýbest ways to get outside in West Virginia, as well as an on-the-ground account ofĚýwhat it was like to survive Hurricane Helene in Asheville, and why he rues not visiting Capitol Reef National ParkĚýsooner.

The post Outdoor Access in This Town Is Off the Charts appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Learning to ride a bike can be your first taste of freedom. Suddenly, the world beyond your front door opens up, ready to be explored on two wheels.

But for Marley Blonsky it wasn’t that simple. Back when she was eight years old, trying to ride with her older sister and her friends, she was told she was too slow. “I always wanted to be part of the club,” she says. “It felt like something I was constantly striving for and not really accomplishing.”

As an adult, Blonsky, 38, faced similar barriers—and some new ones she hadn’t anticipated. She found that the weight limits on most road bikes were too low for her; her rides were hampered by broken spokes and cracked saddle rails. Most cycling-apparel brands had limited sizing, so she struggled to find comfortable jerseys and bibs. On group rides, she felt that familiar sensation of being left behind.

So she did something about it. In 2021, along with Kailey Kornhauser, Blonsky founded , a club that welcomes riders regardless of their size, gender, race, or ability. Over the past three years, the group has expanded to ten chapters, with plans to add nearly 30 more by 2027. Each chapter is encouraged to organize rides, collaborate with other bike-advocacy organizations in its area, and host events like gear swaps and fix-a-flat clinics. “We don’t care why you’re riding a bike,” she says. “We just want to empower you to do it joyfully.”

In 2024, All Bodies on Bikes led several bike-camping trips (the one hosted by the Kansas City chapter had 50 riders) and cohosted the biggest finish-line party in gravel cycling: the DFL party (for Dead Fucking Last) at MidSouth Gravel. Looking forward, the organization’s strategic plan includes establishing industry standards for weight limits on bikes and components, pushing brands to represent a greater range of sizes in their advertising, and creating a retail certification for bike shops to let would-be clients know that “this shop is knowledgeable in working with customers of size and will treat you with dignity and respect,” Blonsky says.

By creating a cycling community that embraces people of all shapes and sizes, Blonsky has made what can be an intimidating sport more approachable for new riders. She regularly receives messages from people about how meaningful it is to see a diversity of bodies represented in cycling. After years of feeling excluded, the self-identified fat cyclist has found power in throwing open the gates.

“It doesn’t feel like what we’re doing is that radical,” she says. “To slow down a little bit, to see folks and meet them where they’re at, it shouldn’t be that incredible of a thing. But it is.”

The post How One Cyclist Is Making the Sport Inclusive for Riders of All Sizes appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

When we’re not writing about influencers disrupting marathons or debating whether you should bring a camp chair while backpacking, our editors are busy testing gear outside. An unpredictable mixture of sleet, rain, snow, and sunshine this month makes it challenging to pack the right gear for those adventures. Luckily, we put hundreds of products through their paces to determine which ones will keep us the most comfortable and prepared. The following thirteen pieces of gear are helping us enjoy the sometimes dull, sometimes sunny days of November.

When you buy through our links, we may earn an affiliate commission. This supports our mission to get more people active and outside.ĚýLearn more.

Orla Kiely Midi Crossbody bag

I treated myself to this lovely bag for my 50th birthday. I was drawn to the bright colors and the leaf pattern, and I think of it as my positive pop of panache when the rest of the world seems gray (both meteorologically and metaphorically). It’s fairly spacious—I still must rifle through its open and zipped pockets to place the item I’m looking for—and I love the small magnet closure at the top, which I hands-down prefer to the hassle of zippers. As you might expect of a bag designed by a Brit, it is practical and cheery and both water- and scratch-resistant. And it gets me all kinds of compliments in public. —Tasha Zemke, managing editor

Pearl Izumi Attack WxB Jacket

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I absolutely loved this year’s unseasonably balmy autumn here in Colorado, and I spent tons of time riding my bike in the sunshine. But a minor drawback of the warm weather meant I was unable to test raincoats, baselayers, and other shoulder-season gear. All that changed in early November when we had a week of solid rain, sleet, and snow. I headed out on several soggy bike rides and once again felt the sting of cold on my face and the slush of water in my legs and shoes.

Of the gear I tested, the Attack WxB Jacket from Pearl Izumi performed the best. The rain jacket is fully waterproof with sealed seams and an internal storm flap under the zipper to prevent moisture from oozing through. It’s also surprisingly breathable—my core vented off heat and I never felt the muggy dampness of my own perspiration building up inside. Credit the jacket’s breathability and rain-blocking to its three-layer fabric construction. Alas, these attributes come with some drawbacks: the coat felt heavier than some of the paper-thin rain slickers I’ve owned in the past. And there are no pockets—a design that helps the jacket fit into a pocket. But if you want a garment that is purpose-built for rainy rides, consider the Attack WxB Jacket. —Fred Dreier, articles editor

Birkenstock Tokio Shearling Sandals

I probably wear Birkenstocks 70 percent of the time. I have my favorite running and hiking shoes, and I’m happy to break out my Blundstones for the snow, but otherwise this German company has an almost complete monopoly on my feet. And I’m not alone. The company was valued at $8.6 billion when it had its initial public offering thanks to a very strong and diverse following. Summer sandals are its backbone, but the company has made a big push into winter footwear, and I’m currently obsessed with their Tokio Shearling Sandals.

These sandals have the company’s classic cork-latex footbed, which I’ve long loved because it feels great on recovering feet, and they also come stuffed with an ultra-warm, genuine shearling. I wear the sandals without socks on milder fall and winter days and never have any unnecessary sweating, and then throw on a merino sock so I can wear them when it’s freezing. Birkenstock clearly knows they’ve created a movement so the prices are high. But rest assured that the sandals are supremely well built and will last for years. —Jakob Schiller, correspondent

Nike Men’s Dri-Fit UV Full-Zip Versatile Hoodie

Fall weekends in my house are spent running, literally, from one activity to the next. Early mornings usually involve a cold-weather cross country meet where I cheer on my kids at the start line, sprint to a mid-course spot to keep them motivated, and then sprint back to the finish for a post-race hug. Next it’s off to a slightly warmer soccer game where I help them warm up, and then probably off to a family lunch and maybe a family movie. All that variability had me searching for the right fall layer that would keep me warm, breathe well enough to not wet out, and not make me look like I was running my own race.

What I landed on was this hoodie, which is made from 78 percent polyester, so it has the chops to move sweat, and 22 percent cotton so that it still looks casual enough and doesn’t come off as workout wear. Nike offers the hoodie in several colors, and while the light gray does scream “I’m a proud sports dad,” the black is more understated and easy to wear.—J.S.

Peak Design Travel Backpack 45L

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I’ve tried plenty of carry-on sized travel packs, and they all have some sort of drawback, whether it’s uncomfortable straps or poor organization. So far, Peak Design’s 45 liter pack hasn’t let me down. It expands to the maximum possible carry-on volume, which meant I could pack enough clothing for a week-long work trip, with a laptop sleeve and plenty of smaller compartments for dongles and chargers. If you’re on a persnickety international flight, you can cinch it down to the allowable 35-liter capacity. The massive main compartment flays open completely near the back panel for easy packing and unpacking, with several other zippered access points for stuffing or pulling layers out on-the-go.

I haven’t used it as a dedicated camera bag yet, but photography nerds will appreciate the padded, structured shell of the pack—which allows for any combination of packing cubes and pouches—and two side stretch pockets for tripods (or water bottles). Most importantly? This thing is actually comfortable to wear. After a day hauling 30 pounds of gear on my shoulders, I remained relatively pain-free. —Benjamin Tepler, senior gear editor

Nanuk 976

Pelican cases are the gold standard in this country for transporting things like hunting or photo equipment without having to worry about careless baggage-handlers. But recently, I tried out a massive waterproof, dustproof, impact-proof roller from Canada’s leading protective case brand, Nanuk. Overall? Same level of protection as a Pelican, with just a bit more ease and comfort for the user (we’re not all loading ammunition onto a Humvee.)

The shockingly large 208-liter container easily held several scuba tanks and multiple bits of oddly shaped kit thanks to an easy pick-and-pluck foam insert that you can hand-carve to your heart’s desire. Seven burly latches along the case were easy to close, with no danger of getting snagged and flipping open—a risk with other protective case brands. Giant, folding soft plastic handles on either end of the bag made it easy to grab off of baggage claim belts and pull out of trunks, and an equally massive telescoping handle and two sets of double wheels made hauling the Nanuk through airports feel somewhat effortless, despite the absurd size. If you need to transport something truly fragile—from wine to weapons—Nanuk’s ballistic-level protection and thoughtful ergonomics are hard to beat. —B.T.

Filson Tin Cloth Short Lined Cruiser Jacket

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Filson’s offerings tend to err on the side of bulky and utilitarian. Don’t get me wrong—they look great, but itchy wool and extra-long sleeves aren’t for everyone. The Tin Cloth Cruiser, however, is equal parts fashion statement and workwear.

It’s made of a thick, waxed cotton that’s pretty much bramble-proof, and will shed water as well as any Gore-Tex layer (as long as you wax it every few years). Lower pockets are generously bulky—large enough for work gloves or a hat—and the right-side chest pocket has multiple pencil/tool slots for whatever project you’re working on. It’s not cheap, but the tight weave, heavy-duty duck canvas, and bar-tack stitching make this thing a workhorse that will probably outlast you. Unlike most of Filson’s offerings, the cut of this jacket is trim, short, and boxy. If you’re after the cool-guy bomber-jacket look, order your usual size. If you’re using it for work, order one size up. —B.T.

Bellfab Dometic Water Jug Universal Mount

One of my absolute favorite pieces of camping gear in the last couple of years has been the . At 11 liters, it’s the perfect size for most camping trips, and when you pair it with one of Dometic’s faucets, you get a sink with running water wherever you are. I recently attached this mount from Bellfab to the T-Track on my Tune M1 camper, and now my Dometic GO has a dedicated spot in the rig. The aluminum mount is super strong, and attaches to basically anything—a camper, roof rack, your 4Runner’s trunk, or a truck bed’s tie down rails. It keeps the Dometic jug safe and secure while in transit, and lets me position the jug inside the camper for quick access to water, effectively creating a tiny camp kitchen when paired with a small collapsible sink. —Bryan Rogala, gear columnist and contributor

Northwest Alpine Black Spider Hoody

Since cooler weather has finally hit here in New Mexico, I’ve been living in this layer. The Black Spider isn’t new—Northwest Alpine has been making it since 2010—but frankly, I hadn’t heard much about the brand until they sent me the hoody. After wearing this piece hiking, hunting, and doing chores around the farm, I’m not sure I’ve ever worn a better midlayer. The Polartec Power Grid fabric helps the Black Spider breathe exceptionally well when you’re working hard, but keeps you warm when you’re not. It’s not loaded with unnecessary features, the fit is great, and so far it’s proven extremely durable. I have a feeling I’ll be wearing this hoody for a long, long time. —B.R.

Kuiu Base Camp Insulated Snap Shirt

Kuiu is predominantly a hunting brand, but they’ve branched out into everyday wear with some good looking pieces that work at the campsite or around town. I’ve found myself reaching for their Base Camp Insulated Snap Shirt as the temperature has dropped, not only because the 40 grams of synthetic insulation provides just enough warmth to fight the November chill, but also because of the fit of the shirt/jacket; There’s enough room to allow for a full range of motion, but it has a slim cut that avoids the balloon-effect that plague some insulated layers. The liner is brushed for next to skin softness, and the collar looks good down or popped up if it’s particularly chilly. I’ve been wearing it as a shoulder season jacket, but I could see this piece transitioning into a stylish mid-layer come ski season. —Graham Averill, gear and travel columnist

Evoc Hip Pack Pro 3

I’ve been trying to ride my mountain bike as much as possible this fall, and most of my rides are under two hours and close to home, which means a full backpack of support gear would be overkill. Enter the Evoke Hip Pack Pro 3, a demure waist pack that has a built-in 1.5-liter bladder and enough storage for snacks, tools, and an extra layer. My favorite thing about this bag, though, is the stretchy velcro waist belt which keeps the fit tight without binding around my torso. It’s the sort of bag you forget you’re wearing until you need something in it. —G.A.

Yardsale P1 Ski Poles

Like most kids, I learned to ski without poles. When it came time to add poles to my regimen, I didn’t think much of them and grabbed just any sticks from the rental shop. Turns out, poles are pretty important, and can make or break ski form. The P1 poles from Yardsale are the perfect accessory for skiers who are looking to upgrade their gear. The poles come in a variety of colors, and sizes, and have a magnetic locking system so they stick together. You can even customize the color on the site. But the best feature of Yardsale’s poles is the lifetime guarantee. You break your poles, tell the team how (the more novel the story, the better), and they’ll send you new poles. —Jamie Aranoff, Digital Editor, SKI

Roll Recovery Superplush Classic Shoe

I keep reaching for these new recovery shoes from Roll Recovery because their stretchy, breathable uppers and wide toe box stay out of the way and make them disappear, with nothing squeezing, rubbing, or holding in sweaty heat—and invisible comfort and freedom are my most important qualities in a recovery shoe. The Superplush Classic’s are incredibly easy to slip on and off, yet once on, the fit is secure enough I didn’t have to worry about sliding around or clenching my toes to stay in the shoe. Underfoot, the flexible sole provides unobtrusive support and a stable, comfortable platform without drawing attention to itself. Plus, the use of sustainable, recycled yarns and algae-based Bloom foam does a bit to relax my mind about environmental concerns. —Jonathan Beverly, senior running editor, gear

The post The Gear Our Editors Are Loving This November appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Just because the temps drop doesn’t mean you have to stop mountain biking. Before the snow flies weekly in western mountain towns, these crisp cold days can lead to incredible riding conditions—morning frost and just enough sun often give way to silky smooth hero dirt. Still, it can be hard to motivate for a frigid fall bike ride, especially since temperature regulation on a mountain bike is highly elusive. Here are a few of our favorite gear picks for extending your mountain-bike season way past the summer.

At a Glance

If you buy through our links, we may earn an affiliate commission. This supports our mission to get more people active and outside. Learn more.

Wild Rye Gnarnia Glove

Warm digits are crucial when riding in low temps. I’ve found the fleece-lined Wild Rye Gnarnia gloves to be just the edge I need for riding in the mid-30s and 40s. In the fall and winter, a glove swap is crucial, so I often wear a standard glove for a long climb, then keep these gloves in my pack (stashed in a sealed plastic bag if it’s raining) for a cozy respite before a chilly descent. They’re not fully waterproof, but the nylon shell does wonders for shedding dirt and mud while you plow through puddles.

Curious Creatures Sun Dog Pant

Pants season is my favorite part of mountain-bike season. The Sun Dog pants are lightweight enough to be reasonable for summertime bike park laps, but I’ve found them to be a fantastic layer for fall rides since they’re plenty warm for brisk days. The stretchy polyester construction is breathable yet durable—I found it to be abrasion-resistant while picnicking in the forest—without feeling stiff.

A few other features I love are the dual-zippered pockets for a phone and snacks. I also appreciate the stretchy drawcord waistband that doesn’t require a zip or button, allowing a hip pack to sit comfortably around my waist. Plus, the colors are wickedly cute, making it a versatile pair of pants I also take hiking and climbing.

Skida Pursuit Hat

Those massive vents in mountain-bike helmets come in handy for hot summer days, but come December, they feel like they funnel ice-cold air straight into my brain. Thankfully, Skida launched its Pursuit series this fall, which includes this sleek and synthetic beanie, ideal for layering under a bike helmet. This hat is thin enough not to feel bulky under a helmet, and it’s easy to tuck into a pocket while I’m pedaling up. If you want even less coverage, the lightweight ($24) is the perfect swath of soft, breathable poly-spandex for high-output rides on frosty days.

Norrøna Fjørå Equaliser Lightweight Long Sleeve

Ěý

Even when it’s hovering close to freezing, the minute I start pedaling, my internal furnace goes nuts. So I like to opt for a lightweight long-sleeve jersey, like the Norrøna Fjørå Equaliser, which breathes well while climbing and can be paired with a warmer jacket for long descents. When it’s closer to 40 degrees, I find this top perfect for rides on rolling hills where I don’t want to stop and adjust my layers every ten minutes. The polyester fabric is airy and quick-drying, with a slim fit that I appreciate when I wear it under a vest or backpack. Plus, the back of the jersey is a touch longer than the front, so it provides plenty of coverage while you’re pedaling.

Branwyn Swag 24 Jogger

Nothing motivates me more while riding in the cold than the promise of a hot shower and a cozy pair of sweats. Branwyn’s merino joggers are the ultimate post-ride bottoms (there’s also a matching ), a seriously luxurious reward for toughing it out in the frosty air. These subtly slim joggers are the perfect swap for my chamois on the drive back home—soft, stretchy, and stink-resistant, thanks to their 85 percent merino wool construction.

7Mesh Chilco Anorak

Temperature regulation while pedaling a mountain bike is no easy feat. I find myself seeking out water-resistant but not waterproof layers that provide some protection from the elements while also dumping heat. The Chilco Anorak is an ideal put-on-and-leave-on layer for brisk fall rides thanks to its breathable polyester with a wind-blocking yet air-permeable design (hence the grid pattern). The synthetic outer shell is wind- and weather-resistant, with a cozy grid fleece lining that’s soft enough to wear over a T-shirt. There’s a large zippered hand pouch you can stash snacks in if you want to go pack-free for a short jaunt, and the hood can fit over a helmet or cinch down over your head for off-the-bike adventures.

The post This Gear Will Extend Your Mountain-Bike Season into the Winter appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.

Most of Colorado’s 1800s boomtowns lived fast and died young. Leadville is an exception, evolving from being one of the wildest Wild West outposts to the heart of Colorado’s high-altitude outdoor adventures.

Colorado’s two highest mountains, the 14,440-foot Mount Elbert and 14,429-foot Mount Massive, dominate the horizon west of Leadville. For good measure, the state’s third-highest mountain,Ěý Mount Harvard at 14,423-foot, is about an hour’s drive from town. The trio represents the three highest peaks in the whole of the Rocky Mountains. Aside from its situation amidst such resources, the town of Leadville since 1983 and 1994 has hosted major hundred-mile running and mountain-biking races, respectively. What keeps Leadville relevant and thriving today is outdoor recreation.

Leadville materialized in 1860 with the discovery of placer gold (gold extracted from eroded rock), and the mining boom was on. Gold and zinc deposits eventually took a back seat to Leadville’s dominant metal: silver. There are rumors of misdirection behind the misleading name, but the “lead” in Leadville wasn’t entirely disingenuous. Lead ore was indeed mined in the area, but it was the silver-bearing lead-ore blend called cerussite that gave the town its official title.

“Leadville” was bestowed by Horace Tabor, a developer known variously as the Bonanza King and the Silver King, in 1878 after trying out names such as California Gulch, Boughton, Slabtown, and my favorite, Cloud City.

1893 – The Year the Silver Barons Went Bust

In 1880 Leadville reached a peak population of 14,820, recorded in the city’s first official census. An explosion of wealth brought along with it a desire for refined culture in a rough place. Horace Tabor fast-tracked the Tabor Opera House in 1879. Opening in the same year was the elegant Interlaken Hotel, on the shores of Twin Lakes, a gorgeous but ultimately doomed retreat for well-off visitors.

The luxury starkly contrasted with the abysmal conditions in the perilously unsafe mines. An estimated 3,000 to 5,000 miners died from 1860 to 1899 in cave-ins, explosions, and equipment accidents. A lack of safety standards (and reports on mine accidents) makes it difficult to pinpoint the number of fatalities.

The Panic of 1893 and President Grover Cleveland’s initiative to repeal the Sherman Silver Purchase Act, however, jointly tanked Leadville’s fortunes. The Sherman Silver Act had required the government to purchase a monthly allotment of 4.5 million ounces (roughly 280,000 pounds) of silver. Its revocation was the beginning of the end for Leadville’s mining prosperity—but not for the city itself.

Visiting America’s Highest City

Leadville is America’s highest incorporated city. At 10,152 feet, it is a mere 408 feet away from being twice as high as Denver (5,280 feet). The city’s history is rich and well worth exploring. Strategic visitors can benefit from a day or two in (and below) town while acclimating to the thin air. Moving up gradually is a solid plan for both local Coloradans and out-of-state guests who aspire to hike the high peaks.

Mountain hiking in the Leadville region is world-class. Seven peaks over 14,000 feet lie within an hour’s drive of Leadville, and all of them can be hiked on established trails without use of ropes or technical climbing equipment. The two highest Colorado peaks, Elbert and Massive, have trailheads less than a half mile apart.

Dozens of excellent 13,000-foot peaks explore the nearby backcountry. Ski Cooper, 11 miles from Leadville, may be moderate in terrain but captures a family-friendly, authentic aesthetic lacking in Colorado’s mega-resort ski towns. The repurposed backcountry cabins of are open to visitors year-round (though winter reservations can be challenging to secure.)

And because people are crazy, Leadville hosts two 100-mile races: the for bikers and the .

Colorado’s Highest Summits

I’ve hiked Mount Elbert 12 times at the time of writing and might have added to that count by the time you’re reading this. Mount Elbert and neighboring Mount Massive have established hiking trails requiring good fitness and altitude acclimation. Still, with proper acclimatization and preparation, they are attainable by “everyman” hikers who want to stand on the highest ground in Colorado.

I could about the excellent hiking around Leadville. The 14,197-foot Mount Sherman is a great first 14er, and one route starts from Iowa Gulch on the Leadville side of the mountain. The Mosquito Pass Area has some of my favorite 13ers, including Treasurevault Mountain, Mosquito Peak, and London Mountain. These peaks don’t see the crowds the 14ers do but offer all the same great views and rolling, rounded ridge lines. French Mountain and Oklahoma Mountain are two more remote 13ers I also count among my favorites, offering wilderness solitude with the historical flashes of mining ruins. Oklahoma Mountain was the site of a plane crash in 1954, and some of the wreckage can still be seen on the mountain.

Seeing Leadville Through New Eyes

For over 20 years, my visits to Leadville were almost exclusively to climb and hike in the high mountains. On a recent trip, I decided to shift my focus and dive into the city’s brief but ample history. Rather than sleeping in one of my battered tents, I took a more civilized approach and rented an Airbnb right in town. Leadville’s compact layout makes most interesting sites a short walk or bike ride away.

The original inhabitants of the region were the Indigenous Ute and Arapaho tribes. Both have oral histories of the area going back hundreds of years. This history is told in detail at the in Montrose, Colorado, about a three-hour drive away.Ěý

Most of Leadville’s historical displays focus on the mining era from 1860 onward. I started at the . Exhibits showcase an unflinching look at the dangerous art of extracting minerals from the earth. My next stop was to a place highlighting the human toll of immigration to a cold and remote place: theĚý in Evergreen Cemetery, completed in 2023, honors over 1,300 Irish men, women, and children who sought something better in America and are buried in unmarked graves. As the eloquently states, “The Irish occupied the bottom rung of Leadville’s social ladder, worked the mines and smelters, loved, struggled, dreamed, and died young.”

Evergreen Cemetery is set in the peaceful shade of stately ponderosa pines, a mosaic of pine needles and native grasses underfoot. The tasteful memorial features a short labyrinth walkway that ends at the sculpture of a miner holding a pick-axe and a harp, one of Ireland’s national symbols.

Leadville’s mining community was represented by two major groups, including Jewish as well as Irish immigrants. Jewish pioneers’ history here has been preserved at , built in 1884 for a community that then numbered some 400 and contributed to business and municipal life.

The top echelons of Leadville society were those on the winning side of the mining equation. One was August R. Meyer, a mining engineer who built the ornate nine-bedroom atop a small hill above the city proper. You need to make a reservation to tour the grounds in winter (by phone, 719-486-0487; $10 for adults, free for ages 18 and under), while in summer the place is open Wednesdays through Sundays, 10 A.M to 4 P.M., with walk-in tours. It’s worth a look inside to see what top-of-line comfort looked like in 1878.

Into Leadville’s Wilderness

Surrounding Leadville in an 11.6-mile circle is the paved , accessible to runners, cyclists, and dogs, and wheelchair friendly. In winter, the trail is a popular cross-country ski destination. The pathway weaves through mining ruins on the south side of town, with informational signs at relevant sites. One is the dusty mine where the Guggenheim family made their fortune, prior to founding the sophisticated Guggenheim Museum in New York City.

I wished I had allotted more time to explore the whole trail, but I had a year-old border collie that was itching to explore some of Leadville’s aquatic sights: its brilliant alpine lakes.

is the perfect place for a peaceful lunch break. In the summer, the lake is a popular destination for boating, camping, and fishing. Come autumn, when I visited, it’s a much quieter scene. On this day, it was a detour en route to a hike to the restored site of the .

Most of my hiking adventures in Leadville are in the high peaks, so it was a nice change of pace to explore a new trail—one that leads to a haunted hotel from the 1800s. At least I assume it’s haunted.

The trail to the resort site is along a mostly flat shelf that borders the southern shore of Twin Lakes, 22 miles from town. About five miles roundtrip, with a total elevation gain of about 335 feet, the outing would be great for a family. You can even mountain bike the trail if you’re in a hurry to see the hotel.

While the main hotel is closed, the long-ago millionaire owner James V. Dexter’s private cabin, built in 1895, is open to the public. Dexter bought the resort in 1883 and supported it as a luxury draw for 13 years, until Twin Lakes were dammed, a mere year after the cabin’s construction. The shoreline became shallow and stagnant, and fears of malaria and other diseases were the death knell of the once-popular resort. It was abandoned in the early 1900s.

I could easily see the appeal of such a stunning location, especially in early October when shimmering waves of hyper-yellow aspen leaves contrast with the inky waters of Twin Lakes, set in a valley below Colorado’s tallest mountains. The buildings are surprisingly well-preserved. The place looks as if it could open for business next spring.

Leadville Past and Present

I didn’t forget about our pal Horace Tabor. When Tabor was (briefly) at the top of the world, he built the , which is still in operation with guided and private tours and events. Tabor, a businessperson and industry titan who came here from Vermont, went from rags to riches and then back to rags, dying of appendicitis in 1899 in Denver, where he worked as postmaster. His wife and widow, Baby Doe Tabor, was equally famous, having lured Horace Tabor away from his first wife with her reportedly unmatched beauty. Baby Doe’s story ended 35 years later, when she froze to death, alone and destitute, in a cabin near the Matchless Mine, in her early 80s.

The list of famous people who visited Leadville reads like a who’s who from the 1800s. Mark Twain, Doc Holliday, the “Unsinkable” Molly Brown (who survived the Titanic disaster of 1912), Buffalo Bill, Bat Masterson (a Wild West lawman), Ulysses S. Grant, and Susan B. Anthony all set foot in the city. Leadville still fondly remembers its visit from Oscar Wilde in 1882. In a lecture at the Tabor Opera House, Wilde remarked upon a sign he allegedly saw in the Leadville saloon, “Don’t shoot the piano player; he is doing his best.”

For a small place, Leadville has a good selection of dining options. I like to pair a visit to my favorite pizza place, (featuring a dog-friendly yard), with a stop next door at the kitschy , a humble museum showcasing the furnishings of homes from the 1880s-1930s. The Golden Burro Cafe and Lounge and the Silver Dollar Saloon are solid American dining options in historic, old-timey settings—the food is good, and don’t worry, both establishments are family-friendly.

Leadville, Where the Ghosts Are Young

Historians place April 26, 1860, the day Abe Lee discovered placer gold a mile from town in the surrounding California Gulch, as the day that started the Colorado gold rush and gave rise to the human drama that would unfold, tangled in ambition, greed, luck, and misfortune. Leadville’s 2020 census showed a population of 2,633, far smaller than the boomtown days when the town was second in size only to Denver.

Leadville today may have fewer people, but the spirit of the place is far from diminished. Pivoting to outdoor recreation has created a new kind of boom that balances the region’s natural beauty with the authentic grittiness that put Leadville on the map.

The city has settled into a good place, trading its pick axes for hiking poles. Leadville’s sharp edges have been smoothed down like the towering mountains surrounding it. Summer days in the high mountains cede to relaxing evenings on the casual confines of Main Street. Take your dogs for stand-up paddleboarding on Turquoise Lake or a run on the Mineral Belt Trail. As I discovered on my most recent visit, Leadville always has more to uncover.

About the Author

James Dziezynski is the author of six Colorado mountain hiking guidebooks and the SEO Director at şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř. The Leadville area is one of his favorite hiking destinations in Colorado—and may very well be his top-ranked dog-hiking playground. James has also written about “The 10 Best Summit Hikes in Colorado” and, near his home, “The Best Hikes in Boulder, Colorado,” as well as another gritty and gorgeous place: “This Colorado Town Is Off the Beaten Path and Full of şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř.”

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There’s a solid chance you’ve never heard of Capitol Reef National Park. Or maybe you’ve heard of the park, but as a destination it hasn’t cracked your top-ten bucket list, so you’ve never made the long trek to Southern Utah to experience its goods. I was in that same boat myself until last month.

I’ve criss-crossed Utah countless times in the last 30 years, hitting every other national park in the state, but I only recently had the joy of gazing out at my surroundings in Capitol Reef. Two days knocking out short day hikes throughout the park left me craving more.

The problem, which is also a blessing, is location. Surrounded by more famous destinations, Capitol Reef is often overlooked. Sure, people trek from all over the world to Utah on national-park road trips, but the vast majority are visiting Arches and Zion. Maybe Canyonlands or Bryce if they can squeeze in an extra day. Yet Capitol Reef is beautiful, and it might be the most adventurous unit in the entire national-park system.

If you’ve heard of Capitol Reef at all, it’s probably because of its orchards, which are pretty damn cool. Starting in the late 1800s, settlers from the Church of Latter-Day Saints planted thousands of apple, cherry, peach, and pear trees in the Fremont River Valley, which is now within the boundaries of the national park. Many of those historic orchards are still thriving within the park’s boundaries, and the National Park Service is working on an to keep the fruit blooming for years to come. You can even pick fruit from orchards with U-Pick signs and self-pay stations.

But listen, there’s a lot more to Capitol Reef.

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şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Intel

The park covers 241,904 acres of prime slickrock desert, encompassing the Waterpocket Fold, a nearly 100-mile-long uplift that has eroded into a cornucopia of cliffs, arches, natural bridges, and monoliths. The landscape is so remote and so rugged that the Waterpocket Fold area was the in the continental U.S. Today that landscape still feels remote and adventurous.

“This was the spot that made me fall in love with Utah,” says Mike Hinkle, owner of Capitol Reef şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Company, who moved to the area to work as a guide more than two decades ago. “People say it’s in the middle of nowhere, but the landscape is unique, and it doesn’t feel like Disneyland. You’re not waiting in line to get on the shuttle. You’re not sharing a trail with 1,000 other people. You’re out there.”

Capitol Reef is 60 miles long and six miles wide, bigger than Zion and Arches combined but with a fraction of the visitors. The park is divided into three distinct sections.

• Most visitors stick to the central portion of the park, the Fruita Historic District, where Highway 24 offers easy access to the Visitor Center, day hikes, and a front-country campground.
• Cathedral Valley occupies the northern section of the park, where mostly unmaintained dirt roads lead to domes and backcountry campsites.
• The southern part of the park, the Waterpocket District, is just as remote, full of dirt roads and narrow canyons and long hikes where you have to huff across miles of desert for grand views.

It is a park that delivers both for those who want a scenic drive/short hikes and backcountry-seekers, with a diversity of adventure that ranges from backcountry bike rides to roadside trad climbs.

“It’s a mix of the same rock you see in Zion and Arches,” Hinkle says. “Capitol Reef has its arches and cliffs and waterways that make it the same kind of rock features, but because it sees less people, we can actually guide technical adventures here.”

Here are the best ways to explore Capitol Reef National Park.

Day Hikes in Capitol Reef National Park

You can access the majority of front-country day hikes along Highway 24, which runs through the middle of the park and the Fruita Historic District. Here are three gems you can hit without driving on dirt to reach the trailheads.

Cassidy Arch Trail

If the park has a signature trail, it’s , a 3.4-mile out-and-back to the celebrated stone arch, which forms a 125-foot-long bridge on the edge of a cliff high at the top of the Grand Wash Canyon. It’s classic desert scenery, skirting the edge of red sandstone cliffs and crossing acres of slickrock.

Grand Wash Trail

Starting from the same trailhead as Cassidy Arch, the gives day hikers a taste of the slot-canyon landscape without the common inherent dangers of mandatory rappels and flash-flood potential. The three-mile out-and-back meanders through a canyon with 200-foot walls that gradually narrow as you hike towards the center of the gorge. The hiking is flat and sandy, and after a mile, you’ll reach the skinniest point of the canyon, roughly 20 feet wide, a slot canyon but not constricted. This trail is an easy yo-yo hike that’s great for families with small children.

Hickman Natural Bridge

This 2.1-mile passes through stands of junipers and cottonwoods as well as clusters of sand dunes, and lets you see the remnants of a granary built by the Fremont people, an indigenous culture that predates the Navajo and Ute. The crescendo is the sandstone Hickman Bridge, 125 feet tall and 133 feet across.

This is a moderate hike, gaining just under 500 feet in elevation, but if you want more, add on the , which branches off from Hickman Natural Bridge Trail near the trailhead on Highway 24. It’s a 1,100-foot climb over 1.3 miles to the Rim Overlook, where you can stand on the edge of a cliff and peer 1,000 feet into the valley below.

Bike Rides in Capitol Reef National Park

Capitol Reef is a biker’s dream. Highway 24 and the eight-mile Scenic Drive passing through dramatic rock formations offer mellow options for road cyclists and e-bikers, but if you really want to see the park on two wheels, hit the system of unpaved roads that traverse the backcountry, offering stellar views and solitude.

For truly hardy bikepackers, the burly 70-mile loop through the delivers you into some of the most remote corners of the park. It’s full of steep climbs and sandy or muddy wash crossings that can be tough to navigate with skinny tires, so I’d opt for a fat-tire mountain bike for this one. Also, there’s no water along the route, so you’ll need to carry enough for two to three days. But if you’re prepared, you’ll have this broad valley, which is loaded with towering sandstone outcroppings that reminded the original explorers of massive churches, to yourself. There are also six primitive campsites at the Cathedral Valley Campground (first come/first serve, free) roughly halfway through the loop, letting you break up the 70 miles into two days.

Canyoneering in Capitol Reef National Park

Guided canyoneering trips are prohibited inside Arches and Zion National Parks, but not here. Professional outfitters with commercial permits are allowed to guide rock climbing and canyoneering trips within Capitol Reef National Park. Unless you have the proper equipment and experience (flash floods are a concern in tight canyons that can drain water from even small storms), go with a guide.

Cassidy Arch Canyon Ěý

This is the most dramatic canyon within the park. It’s also one of the more technical, with eight rappels (more rappelling than hiking) on the journey through the sandstone subway. The adventure starts with a 150-foot drop through Cassidy Arch itself. It’s an airy descent as you lower from the sunny edge of the arch into the shadows of the canyon below. The rappels get shorter as you descend through the canyon, but you’ll drop through the center of two other natural bridges along the way. offers full-day trips through Cassidy ($300 for the first person, $125 per additional person).

For those looking for a self-guided canyoneering adventure with easy access, venture into , a 9.5-mile point-to-point starting at the Chimney Rock Trailhead on Highway 24 and running to where Highway 24 crosses the Fremont River. It’s not an official trail and the route is unmarked, but you’ll find cairns along the way. Nor is it a technical descent, as the dry falls that need to be negotiated have bypass trails, removing the need for ropes. It is an adventurous hike, though, with scrambling, some narrow slot sections, and a mandatory crossing of the Fremont River towards the end of the journey. Carry plenty of water and only attempt this trek if that description sounds like something you can handle.

Sheets Gulch

offers a more remote nine-mile trek through narrow, textured Navajo sandstone walls before opening up to banks of Douglas firs. It’s an out-and-back, so make sure you turn around with plenty of daylight left.

In case you want to spend a couple of days exploring Capitol Reef’s signature narrow passages, two other popular slot canyons, Burro Wash and Cottonwood Wash, are located in the same area.

Rock Climbs in Capitol Reef National Park

For decades, climbers mostly neglected Capitol Reef, but in the last few years the sandstone cliffs and boulders have received more attention, though they are still not as busy as Southern Utah hotspots like Bears Ears National Monument. You’ll find crack climbs on steep Wingate sandstone cliffs and collections of sandstone boulders both inside and outside of the park’s boundaries.

You need a day-use permit (free), which you can get at a self-serve kiosk at the Visitor Center, to climb or boulder within the park. Also, using white chalk is prohibited (use tan chalk instead), and first ascentionists can only use traditional removable protection in the rock rather than placing bolts for sport climbs. No climbing within 100 feet of rock art or prehistoric structures, nor on any arches or natural bridges.

Summers are hot, so consider Capitol Reef a fall-through-spring climbing destination. The approaches can be long, too, so bring water regardless of the season.

The Fruita Area, which is accessed by Highway 24 shortly after entering the park from the west, has the largest concentration of established climbs and boulders. Most of the established climbs are tough (5.10 or harder) but the unfortunately-named is a moderate trad 5.8 up a 50-foot wall via a wide crack that’s close to the road (bring hand-sized cams). Hundreds of established and potential boulder problems exist in the Grand Wash area of Fruita. (V2) is the classic, up a 15-foot sandstone rock via a sit start to pockets and jugs, with a walk-off topout.

Grab a copy of if you’re looking for other options.

Where to Stay in Capitol Reef National Park

Capitol Reef has one of the coolest campgrounds in the park system: the 71-site Fruita Campground near the Fremont River Valley sits in an actual desert oasis surrounded by fruit trees planted by the Mormon pioneers of the 1880s. The facility can handle everything from tents to RVs, though there are no sewage, water, or electrical hookups (from at $25 a night, and make your up to six months in advance).

I found dispersed camping outside the western border of the park on Fishlake National Forest just off Highway 24 near the town of Torrey. The camping is free, but there are no facilities.

Head down Highway 12 towards Boulder, Utah, and you’ll find developed campgrounds in Dixie National Forest at Singletree Campground and Pleasant Creek Campground. Capitol Reef has an Ěýwith locations of alternative camping options surrounding the park.

The gateway town of Torrey has plenty of hotel solutions as well. is the closest to the park’s western entrance, with accommodations that range from Conestoga wagons to hotel suites (from $119).

Where to Eat in Capitol Reef National Park

Torrey (pop. 257), which sits just outside the park’s western border, may be small, but it has plenty of restaurants to keep you satisfied. The Wild Rabbit Cafe has great coffee and breakfast (I like the burrito) that uses local eggs. Hunt and Gather is more of a fine dining option, using as many local ingredients as possible. Head to the next town over (Bicknell) for Curry Pizza, which melds Indian cuisine with pizza.

I left the area marveling at its wonders, while I wondered why the hell it took me so long to come here.

Graham Averill is şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř magazine’s national-parks columnist. Visiting Capitol Reef for the first time, and falling in love with it, makes him wonder what other hidden gems he’s been missing within the park system.

Want more of °żłÜłŮ˛őľ±»ĺ±đ’s travel stories? .

For more by this author, see:

The 10 Best Bike Towns in America, Ranked

The post Why Did It Take Me Forever to Get to Capitol Reef? And What Other National-Park Gems Have I Been Missing? appeared first on şÚÁĎłÔąĎÍř Online.