Meet Team Girls Gotta Eat: Jenna Dramise, Maia Bickert, Shannon Burke, Jenna Kane, and Natalie Carriere 

Day 1: Durango, CO to Molas Pass 
22.53 miles and 3,783 ft of climbing 

Note: Enduro bikes and camera gear are heavy. - Natalie Carriere + Team

Morning vibes rode high as we loaded bikes into the shuttle van. Three and a half hours on the road, mixed in with pee breaks and wondering if we forgot anything, laughing, and napping, until we unloaded at the top of Molas Pass (10,910 ft). Lots of faffing, getting bags attached, photos, and making sure we got a Kyle sticker up on the pole.

We were here to ride from Durango to Moab—over 200 hundred miles lay ahead of us, we had five ladies, five bikes and plenty of snacks.

The Colorado Trail was stunning, though by the second mile I realized I should have brought more batteries for my GoPro. But, I was really trying to cut weight somewhere and I needed all the snacks. Within the first 5 miles we felt our first rain drop and suddenly it was pouring; thankfully, our rain jackets kept us dry and warm. 

Natalie, a 21-year-old photographer from BC, was a new member to the squad. Her camera gear weighed about 25 pounds, and that combined with her Megatower broke the scale compared the rest of us on XC/Trail bikes. Spirits were high but Natalie had come from sea level and was feeling the altitude. 

Not knowing Natalie's riding ability, deep down I wasn’t sure if she thought about turning back or pushing through the rain and with her heavy set-up. The conversation was had, and Natalie's positivity and grit really shined. We all began divvying up camera gear and swapping bikes so the load wasn’t so strenuous. Now it’s 3:00 p.m., with 17 miles to go. The air got thinner as we climbed to 12,500 ft. The rain continued, and so did our smiles. The singletrack was all-time; downhills were fast and fun with intermittent chunk. Handful of hike-a-bike sections and beautiful views.

The sun started to set, and we still had 5 miles to go. A couple of us rallied ahead to the hut to start cooking dinner for the rest of the team. We finished Day 1 with headlamps, hungry, and wet with giant smiles. Our teamwork and positivity confirmed that I was on the trip of a lifetime with incredibly strong and resilient women. My cheeks hurt from smiling already. 

Day 2: Black Mesa Hut 
32.53 miles and 3,816 ft of climbing 

Note: Snickers have never tasted so good and Mac and Cheese was on the mind

Wake-up call was 7:00 a.m. The two Jennas in the group kicked off the morning with a high-stakes burrito eating contest. While the official results are still under review, Jenna Kane likely took the title. It was a bold move, but hey—Girls Gotta Eat.

We quickly realized the hut snack game was elite. 

Before we left the hut, I got a “Lifer", the Canada Jay. Also known as the "Camp Robber," this bird was almost as hungry as the Jennas. We survived the heist and were pedaling by 9:00 AM, though some were pedaling heavier than others.

We rolled into green pastures that were exploding with wildflowers. I even stopped to make a nostalgic wish on a dandelion. After the altitude nearly claimed her on Day 1, Natalie finally discovered the magic of electrolytes. When you come from sea level and have already surpassed your biggest day ever on a bike, sodium stops being a mineral and starts tasting like a five star meal.

The morning’s main event was the East Fork Trail. It was an insanely good stretch of singletrack; a fast, fun flow that had us all mentally booking a return trip before we even finished the descent. We continued to put Stio’s rain gear through the ultimate stress test and savored the Snickers of the trip.

Shannon led the day’s entertainment, as we discovered her legendary "side eye" and unique talent for eating snacks directly out of a bag with her mouth, no hands required. Efficiency at its finest. The laughs and calorie consumption continued all the way to our next hut, which overlooked yet another mountain pass beautiful enough to make us forget our legs were screaming.

Day 3: Dry Creek Hut via Goat Creek Trail
42.03 miles and 2,493 ft of climbing 

Note: Still raining, enjoying mud facials and buffalo proposals

We repacked our bags and cleaned the hut to start pedaling by 9 a.m. again. Raspberry bushes lined the climb and we quickly filled our bellies (girls gotta eat!). The mud thickened until our tires looked like oversized donuts and we were covered head to toe in what I like to call “organic trail glitter.” We spent the morning creeping up the road at a snail's pace, searching for firm ground and praying for our drivetrains. Despite one pulley wheel attempting to retire early, we finally hit Goat Creek Trail.

My jacket and pants had a new custom light brown color and the mud began to fall off as we descended. Pure joy on our faces, until we heard the first thunder crackle. Buckets of rain began pouring over our heads with loud jolts of thunder and lightning seconds apart. Natalie never rode up a hill so fast, beating all of us to the top. I could barely pedal my bike I was laughing so hard. We are soaked with no visibility through our glasses, wondering if this would be how the last 20 miles of our day would go. 

The sun appeared an hour or so later and we began to dry out with one more road climb to go. We cheered everyone up to the top when someone whipped out a can of Coke from their bag and I am pretty sure I heard the angels sing. Then came the local flavor.

A gentleman with a trucker hat and a Ford truck was pulling away from his property when he rolled down his window, “Y’all married?” he asked, quickly backpedaling over his words to ensure we knew he was married with 4 kids, and we all giggled. He couldn’t believe our partners would let us go on a 7 day bike trip. He offered us a hose and an invite to check out his buffalo. We opted for the buffalo sighting, as it was on the way to the hut.

The landscapes officially changed to incorporate desert features. At the hut, we hung our clothes on the line in the sun and cut open a delicious watermelon, then secured our seats in the dirt with a view. My cheeks still hurt.

Day 4: Wedding Bell Hut via Mexican Mine Trail
36.93 miles and 2,316 ft of climbing 

Note: Rattlesnake interval training and the mystery of a missing shoe

If you ever need a shot of adrenaline to replace your morning caffeine, I highly recommend the morning ring of rattlesnakes. Upon seeing one, Natalie found out the true meaning of rattlesnake interval training. She was crushing and it was really cool to see her growth every day. 

Now closer to the desert, it was officially hot enough to melt our dignity as we began to gather our things and embark on our desert adventure. The Mexican Mine Trail we rode that day was short and techy. It was the first time I genuinely questioned the physics of riding down a technical rock section while strapped with to enough gear to sustain a small village. The mountain gods claimed a few holes in our gear, and in a truly impressive feat of desert magic, Jenna’s shoe somehow went missing. We lathered on the sunscreen to look like a box of fresh glazed donuts, and dare I say we missed the rain. 

In the distance, we could finally spot the La Sal mountains, and the view was so stunning it almost made us forget about the heat. We capped off the afternoon with the ultimate bikepacking luxury: a Dr. Bronner’s rain shower and a face full of fresh watermelon. The evening entertainment featured a good laugh as Jenna, committed to the struggle, pranced around the hut with one lone flip flop.

Day 5: Paradox Valley
39.10 miles and 3,219 ft of climbing 

Note: We relearned about basic bike physics 

A couple cups of coffee to wake the legs up and get the laughs started. We started the morning under a sky that looked like it was holding a grudge, ominous clouds and a slight drizzle. Leaving the hut, we had a massive view of the La Sal mountains. It put into perspective exactly how far we still had to pedal, and for the first time, I felt a twinge of sadness. I wished the trail were even longer because I just didn't want this week to end. 

The drizzle soon turned into a bucket of water falling over our heads. As the rain poured down, our ride turned into a physics experiment. The dirt transformed from hero dirt to clay, and then finally into high grade industrial cement. Forward motion ceased. Pulley wheels stopped turning, bikes doubled in weight, and we found ourselves staring up at a 6 mile climb to get over the bluff.

The mood shifted for a second, but then I started laughing uncontrollably. There is nothing quite like being defeated by mud to make you realize you have zero control over the elements. Maia was basically performing emergency surgery on her bike, taking it apart just to clear the pulley wheels. 

With water dripping off our faces and fogging our glasses, it was clear we only had one choice: to move forward, whether it was walking or riding. We pedaled in slow motion, fighting for every inch, but we eventually crested the top. We were so psyched to be moving that we didn't even care about being soaked. We collectively agreed that today was not the day for the alt route, so we bailed to the road, giggling the whole way at the sheer ridiculousness of our situation.

The roads were ghostly with just us in the middle of nowhere. When we finally rolled into Paradox Valley, we found a small church with a garden hose—hallelujah. We washed away about twenty pounds of Colorado real estate and miraculously found our bikes were still in working order.

Paradox is a tiny town, less than 200 people, and it felt deserted until we ran into Greg, the man who stocks our hut. We spent some time talking and learned that Greg had lost his wife, who for years loved to stock the hut and hang with the bikepackers, which he has continued in her spirit. It turned out I had more in common with a Paradox local than I realized. Finding that kind of human connection in the middle of a deserted valley made the morning's mud feel like a small price to pay.

The monsoon welcomed us into our hut. “I feel like I’m in the Wizard of Oz,” Jenna stated as buckets of water ran into the hut via the roof and crack of the door. As the storm cleared, we ended the night with a bowl of hot ramen. Girls Gotta Eat. 

Day 6: South Mountain Hut La Sal Mountains and Burlfriends Loop
42.46 miles and 6,765 ft of climbing 

Note: The beauty of the La Sals is all worth it

Day 6 was the longest day: “The Dirt Road Marathon” through the fire burn reroute. A mandatory group shot was taken to prove we were still standing and we cleared the snack shelves. Unfortunately, the peach tree wasn’t ripe, a true desert betrayal. The cows’ mooing echoed across the valley. 

The moment after crossing the Utah-Colorado border we emerged from the forest to see the beauty of the La Sals. The birds circled above, and I could genuinely feel my partner Kyle’s spirit looking back at us from those peaks. Standing in that spot, I did the only appropriate thing: I threw back a Snickers bar like a victory shot and cheersed the mountains.

Aspen trees welcomed us to the hut and we couldn’t wait to dive into some watermelon and cheese. The dirt road had left Shannon and I with singletrack withdrawals and Burlfriends loop was on the mind. In Shannon and Jenna fashion we needed a little extra vert and mileage and it was 100% worth it. It's a different kind of high soaring through the aspens at top speed, until you practically T-bone a cow around a corner. 

With full bellies and hearts, we crawled into our bunks for the best sleep of the trip, already scheming our next bike trip. 

Day 7: La Sals via Moonlight Meadows to Moab 
46.09 miles and 4,275 ft of climbing 

Note: Legs are heavy and hearts are full

By Day 7, even the XC bikes felt like they were made of lead. I found myself checking to see if I had a flat, but the only thing flat were my legs. We hit the climb to Burro Pass and I tried shifting into four low for some extra torque, but it turns out my engine was officially out of commission. We weren’t in a rush, and the La Sals were so stunning that being stuck there felt like a privilege.

Feelings of excitement and sadness overwhelmed me throughout our last day, reminiscing on the whole week of growth, friendship and teamwork. There’s something about being vulnerable, dirty, and exhausted for a week that fast-tracks a friendship. Watching Natalie’s transformation was a highlight from her day 1 confession of "I’ve never ridden this many miles or vert in my life" to absolutely crushing the terrain like a seasoned pro. She learned the art of fueling, the value of a solid crew, and managed to capture it all through a lens.

Reaching the summit of Burro Pass felt like winning a gold medal. We took one last group photo, high on life and thin air. I was buzzing for the crew. It was Natalie’s first time in the States and it would be Maia’s first time dropping into The Whole Enchilada (WE) from Burro Pass. For me, this trail is a memory palace. Ripping down those sections with Shannon by my side again, reminiscing about past rides with Kyle’s sticker as landmark on our gear the whole trip, made my heart overflow. 

We took the "long way" to the WE, because clearly, we hadn't suffered enough, and it made the descent that much sweeter. Natalie’s BC roots really started to show and she led the charge with Jenna absolutely pinned.

The temps were rising and the landscape changed quickly as we ripped past Hazard County. Overheated and the snacks getting low, Milts was on my mind. I saw Natalie walking her bike in the distance with 2 miles left and no shade. Our first real mechanical, Natalie snapped her chain. Who knew Natalie was a closet bike mechanic? We had it fixed within 5 mins as the sweat dripped from our faces, with no water left. 

As we rolled down to Moab all we could talk about was food at this point. It was pretty easy to convince the girls that we needed Milts and it was mandatory that Natalie experience a classic American diner. I’ve been hitting Milt’s for 12 years during my yearly Moab bike trips, and watching the team dive into burgers and shakes felt like the perfect mission accomplished moment. My cheeks are still cramping from the sheer explosion of happiness.

Girls Gotta Eat.

The Jennas, Maia, Shannon, and Natalie.