Let’s get one thing straight: bikepacking is ridiculous. There you are, perched on what feels like the world's least comfortable barstool, pedaling your heart out for days on end. You’re sweating, aching, dodging potholes, and praying you remembered to pack something resembling dinner. If you step back for a moment, it all sounds like a form of voluntary punishment. And yet… we love it. We can’t get enough of it. Why? Why do seemingly rational people strap bags onto their bikes, load them with dehydrated meals and questionable clothing choices, and pedal into the unknown for fun?
Let me take you on a journey to answer this question—the big, sweaty, muddy, breathtaking why.
1. The Escape From Civilization (And Other Humans)
Bikepacking offers something modern life rarely does: an escape. Out there in the forest, on a remote gravel road, or climbing that absurdly steep mountain pass, there’s no Wi-Fi. Nobody is pinging you. Nobody’s asking you to attend a Zoom call in five minutes. You’re free.
Do you have a boss breathing down your neck about deadlines? Not when you’re pedaling through a landscape so vast it feels like you’re on another planet. The only things breathing down your neck are mosquitoes. And let’s be honest: mosquitoes are less annoying.
Bikepacking feels like a tiny rebellion. It’s you against the machine of modern life, turning the cranks and leaving it all behind. Who needs fluorescent lighting, deadlines, and a Starbucks in every corner of their vision when you’ve got dirt roads, wilderness, and the smell of pine trees? It’s like choosing to climb mountains for fun while everyone else is sipping cocktails on a beach—less comfortable, sure, but infinitely more rewarding. Even if it does mean you’re eating peanut butter straight from the jar with a spoon.
2. The Thrill of Planning (Or Pretending You Planned)
Half the fun of bikepacking is the planning. At least, it’s fun in theory. You spend weeks meticulously mapping out routes, debating how many socks you need (two pairs for a week… sounds legit), and deciding whether a portable French press is a luxury or a necessity.
You promise yourself that this time, you won’t forget the essentials. Then day one hits, and you realize you forgot toothpaste but packed two multitools. Priorities.
Of course, there’s also the romantic idea of “just winging it.” Winging it sounds adventurous, right? It’s all fun and games until you find yourself dehydrated, climbing an unplanned 20% incline, and swearing loudly at your past self for not downloading the map offline.
But here’s the thing: whether you plan every detail or pretend you’re an outlaw living off the land, the joy is in the absurdity. The journey never goes as planned, and that’s where the memories happen.
Let’s talk about suffering. Yes, suffering. Bikepacking is essentially voluntary hardship, and for some reason, we can’t get enough of it.
Why does your brain light up when your quads are burning like they’re on fire? Why does a long climb, despite all the swearing, feel so satisfying at the top? And why does a cold can of baked beans eaten while sitting in the dirt taste like a Michelin-star meal?
Humans have a weird relationship with struggle. Comfort—the kind of comfort we’re surrounded by in everyday life—is fine for a while. But too much comfort starts to feel like stagnation. That’s where bikepacking comes in. It’s a temporary test of your limits, a self-inflicted trial that reminds you of what you can endure and accomplish.
4. The Little Moments Make It Worth It
Sure, bikepacking has its fair share of misery. Your chain will get jammed at least once, and yes, you will accidentally swallow a bug. But in between the suffering, there are these little moments—moments that make the whole experience worth it.
Like when the sun peeks over the horizon, and you’re the only one awake to see it. Or when you glide downhill for what feels like forever, and the only sound is your tires humming against the dirt. Or when you share an overpriced gas station snack with a friend and laugh until your sides hurt because you’re so tired that everything is funny.
These moments don’t happen in the daily grind of emails, traffic, and Netflix marathons. They happen when you’re out there—pushing your body, breathing in fresh air, and living fully in the present.
5. The Simplicity of It All
Bikepacking strips life down to the essentials. Food, water, shelter, and forward motion—that’s all you need. It’s a refreshing contrast to the constant noise of modern life. There are no endless to-do lists, no meetings, no pointless distractions.
Instead, you’re focused on the next climb, the next meal, or finding a good spot to sleep. Bikepacking reminds us that life doesn’t need to be so complicated. When you’re pedaling through the wilderness, everything feels simpler and somehow more meaningful.
Plus, let’s not ignore the joy of finishing a ride, collapsing into your sleeping bag, and feeling like you’ve accomplished something huge. Because you have. You moved yourself—and all your gear—across vast distances with nothing but your own two legs. That’s no small feat.
6. It’s About the Stories (and Bragging Rights)
Finally, let’s be honest: part of the fun of bikepacking is the storytelling. Nobody wants to hear about your lazy weekend binge-watching TV. But tell someone you rode your bike through the rain, ate cold oatmeal with a stick, and slept in a ditch… and suddenly you’re a hero.
Bikepacking turns you into a storyteller. You’ll return with tales of conquering mountains, outrunning thunderstorms, and being chased by curious cows or dogs...a lot of angry dogs. These stories become a part of who you are, and they remind you that life is meant to be lived, not just watched.
Plus, you get the ultimate trump card for social conversations. “Oh, you went to brunch? That’s nice. I spent the weekend cycling 200 kilometers through the wilderness and fighting off wild squirrels. No big deal.”
The Big Why
So, why do we do it? Why do we willingly put ourselves through days of sweat, dirt, hunger, and questionable decision-making? Because bikepacking makes us feel alive.
In a world where everything is instant, convenient, and predictable, bikepacking offers the opposite. It’s raw. It’s unpredictable. It’s challenging. And it’s beautiful.
The struggle makes the good moments sweeter. The hardship makes the victories more meaningful. And the simplicity reminds us of what really matters: movement, freedom, and adventure.
Bikepacking is proof that happiness isn’t about avoiding discomfort. Sometimes, happiness is about leaning into it, embracing the madness, and pedaling through it. Because when you come out on the other side, sweaty and sore, you realize you’re capable of far more than you thought. And that feeling? That’s worth every single kilometer.
Now grab your bike, pack your bags, and go find your own ridiculous adventure. You’ll thank yourself later—probably while eating cold beans in the dirt.