My First Bikepacking Experience

With my Liv Devote gravel bike packed and ready, I embarked on my first bikepacking adventure. It was a modest start—a 25km ride to a pod for the night—but I was filled with both excitement and nerves.

I’d kept my setup simple: a saddle pack containing a small cooking pot, some food, and a sleeping bag. Since I was staying in a pod, I didn’t need a tent or too much gear, which helped keep things light.

The route was a mix of cycleways and towpaths, gradually climbing uphill. It was a peaceful ride at first—just me, the sound of my tires on the gravel, and the gentle hum of nature. The weather was perfect, adding to the tranquility. 

But as the incline steepened, the effort began to show. At times, I had to get off and push, which wasn’t ideal when cars were passing nearby. I could feel the weight of their stares, but I reminded myself it was part of the learning curve.

Despite the challenges, I made it to my destination safely. After unpacking, I savored the simple pleasure of a hot meal from my little cooking pot. The food tasted better than I expected, probably because of the effort it took to get there.

When the day finally caught up with me, I unrolled my sleeping bag and let the comfort of the pod lull me to sleep. It wasn’t a glamorous adventure, but it was mine. A first step into the world of bikepacking and a memory I’d carry forward on my next journey.

The Return Journey

The next morning, refreshed and ready to head home, I set out with the same lovely weather guiding me. I’d expected the return journey to be easier, with the gentle downhill making for a smoother ride. But that hope quickly faded when I discovered a problem with my bike pack.

For some reason, the pack wouldn’t stay in position. No matter how often I adjusted it, it kept dropping and rubbing against the back tire. The screeching noise was unbearable, and the resistance made pedaling far harder than it should have been. I stopped countless times to fix it, but nothing worked.

The journey that should have been faster ended up taking twice as long. The constant rubbing eventually wore a hole in the bag, leaving it scuffed and battered. By the time I finally made it home, I was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

Despite the mishap, I couldn’t help but feel proud of myself. I’d faced an unexpected challenge and made it through. The bag might have suffered, but the experience didn’t dampen my excitement for future trips. With lessons learned and stories to tell, I was already looking forward to my next bikepacking adventure.