Rollin' and tumblin' we roamed through the Sacramento Mountains of southern New Mexico. 144.77 miles and 14,334' of elevation all told with heavy but capable bikes. Party pace was the theme for the weekend, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

The trip was the cause and cure for the anxiety that had been building in me for weeks as I doubted my preparation for the challenge. No matter the many training miles I put in, I still struggled with self doubt following years of rehabilitation from a bike accident that shattered my leg and my confidence.

Bikepacking has become my solution for an inability to backpack. But the anxiety that preceeds every trip—originating from a crippled knee—instills considerable doubt in my hobby of choice despite its many rewards.

The first 10 miles of riding out of Cloudcroft didn't help as we muscled laden bikes over chunky singletrack and through open meadows, losing our way more than once. But before long we found ourselves on a near endless downhill that flowed through forest meadows and smooth gravel roads, reminding us of the reward that waited atop each punishing climb—of which there would be many over three days.