I totally agree!
I should’ve read between the lines…
It’s not a crime.
I think I would’ve offered her cash to rent her trash can…
😅
Hello,
Following our trip on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route this summer, we’re sharing our experience in this travel journal.
We’re Richard and Bernadette, both 64 years old, and we’re gravel bike-packing cyclists.
We’ve completed several gravel bike trips in France and neighboring countries, and Richard has also done some in South America.
We left on July 22, 2026, from Geneva to Calgary via Frankfurt with our bikes carefully packed in boxes, and we returned on October 8 from El Paso to Geneva via Chicago and Frankfurt.
The GDMBR is a mountain route that closely follows the Pacific/Atlantic continental divide, starting in Banff, Canada, and ending at the Mexican border in Antelope Wells, New Mexico. This crossing of the American West is one of the longest mountain biking routes in the world, winding through wild valleys, mountain ranges, and desert plateaus. It stretches about 4,400 km with a total elevation gain of around 60,000 m. The average altitude is 2,000 m, and the highest point reaches 3,600 m. The route is 80% off-pavement (gravel roads, dirt, and a few trail segments). It’s also known for the annual Tour Divide race, which brings together the best riders in the discipline every June and follows roughly the same route.
We prepared for this trip over several months, using a few websites and an older guidebook (the 2013 English edition).

With this, we were able to organize our journey with as much information as possible, a GPS track, and gear suited to the weather conditions, terrain, and sparse resupply points in remote areas.
Once we arrived in Banff, we picked up bear spray to handle a particular challenge: the wildlife we weren’t familiar with.

After landing in Calgary, we assembled and equipped our bikes at the airport. That first evening, we were welcomed by Mike, who invited us to his place when we were looking for a spot to pitch our tent. Then we made our way to Banff over two days, taking a fairly quiet road to Canmore and then a bike path.

A visit to Banff, a charming tourist town in the national park. Its famous Fairmont Hotel.

The starting point of the GDMBR at the arch of this hotel complex.

Here we are, immersed in the wilderness—just a few pedal strokes away from the town, the contrast is striking. Powerful rivers, vast landscapes, and our first encounter with a mule deer.

Spray Lake, our first basic campsite: no showers, dry toilets, no water fountain—we filter lake water. Most GDMBR campsites are like this.


We took the west side of the lake—a longer and wilder route. A few fallen trees blocked the path, forcing us to carry our bikes. But the stunning landscapes made it all worth it!

Our first single track through a forest marked by past wildfires.


Most campgrounds have tables and metal fire rings for safe campfires, which makes setting up camp much easier—especially nice after a long, tiring day! During this trip, we mostly slept in our tent, either in established campgrounds or wild bivouacs.
To be continued...
The GDMBR is a mountain route that closely follows the Pacific/Atlantic continental divide, starting in Banff, Canada, and ending at the Mexican border in Antelope Wells, New Mexico. This crossing of the American West is one of the longest mountain biking routes in the world, winding through wild valleys, mountain ranges, and desert plateaus. It stretches about 4,400 km with a total elevation gain of around 60,000 m. The average altitude is 2,000 m, and the highest point reaches 3,600 m. The route is 80% off-pavement (gravel roads, dirt, and a few trail segments). It’s also known for the annual Tour Divide race, which brings together the best riders in the discipline every June and follows roughly the same route.
We prepared for this trip over several months, using a few websites and an older guidebook (the 2013 English edition).

With this, we were able to organize our journey with as much information as possible, a GPS track, and gear suited to the weather conditions, terrain, and sparse resupply points in remote areas.
Once we arrived in Banff, we picked up bear spray to handle a particular challenge: the wildlife we weren’t familiar with.

After landing in Calgary, we assembled and equipped our bikes at the airport. That first evening, we were welcomed by Mike, who invited us to his place when we were looking for a spot to pitch our tent. Then we made our way to Banff over two days, taking a fairly quiet road to Canmore and then a bike path.

A visit to Banff, a charming tourist town in the national park. Its famous Fairmont Hotel.

The starting point of the GDMBR at the arch of this hotel complex.

Here we are, immersed in the wilderness—just a few pedal strokes away from the town, the contrast is striking. Powerful rivers, vast landscapes, and our first encounter with a mule deer.

Spray Lake, our first basic campsite: no showers, dry toilets, no water fountain—we filter lake water. Most GDMBR campsites are like this.


We took the west side of the lake—a longer and wilder route. A few fallen trees blocked the path, forcing us to carry our bikes. But the stunning landscapes made it all worth it!

Our first single track through a forest marked by past wildfires.


Most campgrounds have tables and metal fire rings for safe campfires, which makes setting up camp much easier—especially nice after a long, tiring day! During this trip, we mostly slept in our tent, either in established campgrounds or wild bivouacs.
To be continued...



















I came out of there (a little over 5 kilometers) in pretty rough shape. Dom, on the other hand, was far from done. I suggested a nice little loop near our place, the Venus Baths. Turns out, instead of Venus, we’d run into kangaroos and wallabies.

















After a few attempts at forcing their way in, we hold our ground.
We’ve been told it’s really bad to give food to wild animals—it could become a bad habit. An addiction. Long story short, the answer’s no, and our former feathered friends aren’t taking it too well…
It’s a shame, but we don’t linger. The call of the open road is too strong. We’ve got a 6-hour drive to reach the coast, with just a few short stops—like in Kaniva…
























It’s late. The Garden has already closed a few greenhouses.




We really liked Adelaide!
A year ago (February 9th), we took the tram to Glenelg Beach...









































Roundabouts are particularly interesting because they feature emblems of Turkmen culture, like the dog, a carpet, the Ahal Teke horse, or Muslim symbols, even though the presence of Islamic artifacts is quite limited.

Why this country?
After visiting Hungary, Slovenia, Romania, and Poland in recent years, I’ve fallen in love with Eastern European countries. I adore the Slavic soul, its Austro-Hungarian villages, the gentle landscapes, the Carpathian Mountains, and that slightly mysterious atmosphere.
Slovakia evokes a certain imagination with its deep forests, medieval castles, and cobbled villages.
After seeing photos of the High Tatras—especially Lake Štrbské Pleso and Spiš Castle—I thought, "Let’s do it! We’re going!"
So, will Slovakia live up to what I imagine?
We’ll find out together.
We decided to travel as a group of six (five adults and a six-year-old child), by car (we needed two).
Here’s the day-by-day itinerary for this family trip, which started with a 3-day stay in Vienna (see the dedicated travel journal):














When it comes to the Caribbean island of Saint-Martin, it's customary to praise its coastline and dreamy beaches—and they certainly deserve it.
But in this story, I’d like to highlight other memories, aspects, and impressions for a slightly different change of scenery.
Enjoy the read—some text and, above all, lots of photos.
« Byenveni sou zile Sen Maten! » (Welcome to the island of Saint-Martin)
















Come along, I'm taking you to this country where it's so nice to wander and slow down...









