Tour Divide 2025 was without a doubt one of the biggest highlights of my ultracycling journey so far. Not only a sporting peak in terms of distance and duration (4.400km / ~55.000 vertical meters), but also an adventure that will stay with me for a long time. And the fact that I was able to finish it with a third-place podium in just 13.5 days is the cherry on top!
During the race, I sent daily audio updates to Josh Ibbett (in English) and Daniel Lenz (in German). I have now turned these updates into videos, combined with photos, and published them on YouTube in the playlists below. If you’re looking for something to watch while riding the trainer this fall or winter, I highly recommend jumping straight in:
If you’d rather browse through the photos here on the blog, that’s perfectly fine too 😉 The texts for each day, however, aren’t written by me directly — they’re summaries generated with the help of Perplexity AI based on the video transcripts.
The photos mostly show the easier sections of the route (on the more technical singletracks, I usually kept my hands on the handlebars 😉).
If you’d like to get a good impression of the route — including the more challenging parts — I can highly recommend Josh Reid’s video.
The first 15 minutes alone give a great sense of how varied the course was (and you can even spot me briefly at the start):
👉 A Tour Divide Ultra Cycling Film – Life in the Mid Pack
Day 1: Rolling Past Fernie and Hitting the Trails
My first day on the Tour Divide 2025 took me just out of Fernie, the first major city on the route. Even though I originally planned to rest there, things were going better than expected, so I decided to keep pushing further and aimed for a shelter about 80 kilometers down the trail.
The weather was incredible—dry all day with plenty of sunshine, the perfect conditions to really enjoy both the scenery and the ride. However, the roads were still soaked and full of large puddles from heavy rain last night, turning the bikes into mud magnets and making drivetrains start creaking early in the race.
The second major challenge of the day was a relentless headwind, especially tough on wide gravel roads where it felt like there was never a break, even on the downhills. Right after the start, the course climbed up a short steep hill, circled a large lake, and then led onto a fantastic singletrack descent—just like a marble run and a real highlight so far.
There were some monotonous gravel sections along the way, but they faded into the background thanks to the beautiful landscapes and the thrill of the adventure.
Day 2: Tough Day and Needed Rest
I spent the first night at Butts Cabin, arriving just behind Jens, so we were two together in this spot. More riders gradually showed up as the evening went on. I wasn’t very tired and struggled to sleep well—probably got about an hour and a half of real rest before packing up and heading out.
The day itself was mixed: started off fine, but by midday I hit a rough patch. I’m not sure if it was dehydration due to the heat or something I didn’t tolerate well, but the afternoon improved and my power numbers came back around.
After the poor sleep on night one, I was determined to rest properly on night two. So, despite it being only 6 p.m., I checked into a hotel in Columbia Falls to ensure good sleep before a long stretch with no accommodations ahead. I managed about four and a half hours of solid rest and now feel refreshed and ready for day three.
The weather stayed perfect and dry all day, and the forecast looks promising. Feeling positive and ready to push on!
Day 3: Battling Heat and Night Fatigue
I started Day 3 around midnight after checking into a hotel for proper rest the night before, hoping to ride comfortably through the night. However, the body’s natural rhythm kicked in, and around 4 to 5 a.m., I hit a wave of intense tiredness but managed to push through it.
The day took me through stunning mountain landscapes and included the best singletrack I’ve experienced so far—winding through forested areas with breathtaking views. I kept battling with a fellow rider, Xavier, which added some fun competition to the day.
The afternoon turned brutal with temperatures soaring above 30°C and no shade on the climbs, making the heat exhausting. My goal was to reach the famous and notorious Lama Ranch by nightfall, hoping to catch some sleep there before tackling the third night. Though really exhausted at the moment, I’m still optimistic and moving forward.
Day 4: Special Stays and Tough Climbs
I spent the night at Lama Ranch, a truly special place—a renovated old ranch with several small cabins and a big garden, where some friendly llamas roam around. What makes this place unique is that it exclusively hosts cyclists traveling the Tour Divide, offering free accommodation, sandwiches, drinks, and even electricity from a battery storage system. In return, the only request is that guests do good in the world—such generosity and kindness are rare and deeply appreciated.
After about three hours of sleep there, I tackled a big climb toward Helena. Despite the rest, my body’s rhythm caught up with me, and I got so tired that I had to take a 20-minute power nap by the roadside, wrapped in my down jacket and pants. When I woke, the sunrise had started, and I felt ready to continue, as before that, I couldn’t even hold my handlebars straight or keep my eyes open. Surprisingly, four caffeine tablets had no effect on my exhaustion.
In Helena, I stopped at a local station for breakfast and stocked up on some snacks and energy drinks. A lovely older lady who’s been a passionate Tour Divide watcher for years took photos and welcomed the riders warmly—heartfelt moments like these make a big difference on such a tough journey.
The route for the day was challenging, with constant up and downs, often feeling like there was a headwind. The weather was mixed, with light showers at times but nothing heavy. The highlight was Lava Mountain Pass, featuring some almost singletrack technical sections that required some pushing, but the downhill was a blast.
I’m now heading to White River, where I’ve reserved a cozy cabin to get some much-needed rest and showers before the next day. So far, the conditions have been manageable and I’m hopeful to keep this pace going.
Day 5: Long Stretch and Food Challenges
I started early from White River Lodge just before dawn, heading through a beautiful scenic road inside the national park. The only real problem was that everything was still closed early morning—no place to get food anywhere on the route. I even made a short detour to a point of interest hoping for something, but no luck there either.
So, I spent almost the entire day relying on gummy bears and whatever water I could find from roadside sources. The landscape was pleasant—riding between meadows—but the road was mostly flat gravel for long stretches with little variation, making the day feel a bit monotonous despite decent mileage.
In the afternoon, I managed to phone-call the lodge and sorted out my room even though the station was closed. Thankfully, they packed a bag of groceries for me using my credit card details provided on the phone and left it in my room. This meant I wasn’t going to bed hungry; I enjoyed some Pringles, chocolate, and sandwiches to refuel.
My only real issue right now is some serious saddle soreness that gets particularly bad in the evenings, though it eases overnight. To cope, I will continue to stop at lodges to shower and wash my cycling shorts overnight whenever possible. Other than that, everything is going smoothly. Fingers crossed the soreness improves and I keep moving forward
Day 6: Stunning Scenery and a Close Encounter
On Day 6, I climbed up Togwotee pass in the breathtaking Grand Teton national park at around 3,000 meters elevation. I had planned to stay at Lava Mountain Lodge after the descent, but unfortunately, it’s currently closed due to construction going on, so I likely had to camp outside. I stocked up on supplies at a local gas station before the pass to prepare for a long stretch without accommodations.
The scenery today was truly stunning—amazing views of snow-capped peaks, beautiful lakes, and quiet valleys, with impressive flora including vibrant flowers amidst lush greenery. One unforgettable highlight was spotting a mountain lion right on the trail in front of me when I was close to Yellow Stone national park. Initially, I thought it was a deer grazing, but when it ran, I realized it was a big cat. Luckily, it was just as startled by me as I was by it, and it ran off safely.
On the downside, my saddle sores worsened today, with two main contact points becoming quite raw and painful, especially on rough trails. I cleaned the wounds at a visitor center and applied blister plasters, which helped somewhat, but I’m not optimistic about a quick recovery since the pressure persists. Despite this, the day’s experience and the natural beauty made it unforgettable.
Day 7: Dehydration and Heat in the Great Basin
Last evening I descended from Union Pass, which sits close to 3,000 meters elevation, and found a shelter to sleep in for the night. However, the real challenge was a severe lack of water—there was none to be found nearby except stagnant puddles, so I opted to stop rather than risk riding in the dark without reliable water sources.
The following day brought me through the brutal heat of the Great Basin, with temperatures soaring to 34°C and no shade to offer relief. The gravel roads continued their gentle ups and downs under relentless sun and scorching conditions.
Water resupply points were rare but vital. I stocked up heavily whenever possible, filling every bottle and pocket to prepare for the next dry stretch. A strong wind occasionally helped cool me down, blowing from the side, but the forecast warned of a headwind for the final 30 kilometers—a daunting prospect after already battling the unrelenting heat.
With lots of kilometers still to cover through the blazing basin, I booked a hotel room in Wamsutter as a definite goal to aim for, knowing that pushing on without shelter or water in such open heat would be dangerous. Staying hydrated and finding shade became the focus as I pushed through one of the toughest days yet.
Day 8: Battling Winds and Podium Motivation
Yesterday I pushed through most of the Great Basin, covering about 2,000 meters of elevation gain despite the mostly gentle rolling terrain. The endless straight roads stretch to the horizon, framed by beautiful landscapes but accompanied by challenging side winds, headwinds, and occasional tailwinds.
I arrived in a desert town in the evening (Wamsutter), where I had booked a room next to a gas station to rest and resupply. I stocked up heavily—chocolate milk, burritos, yogurts with muesli, gummy bears, and plenty of electrolyte drinks. Carrying it all was almost a challenge in itself, but part went into my bottles and the rest fueled me.
I coincidentally arrived at the accommodation around the same time as Max Riese, another rider. I had previously thought about trying the „sleep game“—cutting my night sleep to three hours instead of the usual four and a half to gain an advantage. I set my alarm for three hours but ended up sleeping through it, realizing that the race, which easily lasts two weeks or more, isn’t the time to start playing games with rest yet.
Despite strong, sometimes dangerous side winds that forced me to stop twice to avoid being blown off the road, I managed to catch Max on the next day and arrive at Brush Mountain Lodge just a few minutes ahead of him. The third-place rider, Svein Tuft – a former world-tour pro – was also there but struggling, visibly slowed since morning.
Max and I now find ourselves battling for third and fourth place, separated by just a few miles, with the race still long and uncertain. Motivation is high, knowing a podium spot is within reach, but the race remains brutally tough, especially as the night sets in. Hotel rooms were prohibitively expensive, so I chose to push onward into the mountains to find shelter for the night, whether in a hut or out in the wild.
Day 9: Pain Management and Perseverance
Let me share some thoughts about managing saddle sores. I’ve been using a combination of zinc ointment at night, sore cream during rides, and blister plasters on the worst spots to get through each day. Some suggest painkillers, and while I keep a small emergency kit for actual injuries, I avoid regular use. Painkillers can mask the body’s signals and risk long-term damage, which I want to avoid. They can also irritate the stomach, which is a concern during ultra cycling when calorie intake is crucial. I trust my body’s natural pain management and push through, stopping only if pain signals a need to rest or quit.
The previous night, I opted against expensive hotel rooms and rode on despite fatigue. When I reached the Lynx Pass, around 10 kilometers past, exhaustion hit so hard I couldn’t ride straight. A concrete toilet shelter nearby became my unexpected refuge for sleep, wrapped up in my down gear. Though 2,700–2,800 altitude meters isn’t ideal for rest, it was better than struggling downhill half-asleep.
The day has been very hot again, mostly above 2,000 meters, climbing toward a peak around 3,500 meters. I aimed to reach a hotel by late night to shower and recover properly. The friendly race battle with Max continues; we share a good rapport, sometimes eating together but racing separately, both eyeing the podium. This friendly rivalry is a great motivator.
Day 10: Mountain Climbs and a Midnight Hotel Mishap
Yesterday I arrived in Salidas in the middle of the night after a tough finish. A long 10 km downhill meant my heart rate dropped, making fatigue hit even harder. On the descent, I purposely kept myself a little cold to stay alert.
Arriving at the hotel, I faced a big scare—the night porter I had spoken to earlier forgot to leave my key as promised, leaving me locked out in the middle of the night. After some searching, I found a doorbell next to the office and rang. Thankfully, he appeared quickly, apologized for the mix-up, and got me checked in.
After a refreshing shower and washing my cycling gear, I was ready for bed. Unfortunately, nearby stores were closed, so my only option for a late snack was a pack of gummy bears to help with recovery.
The next morning started fresh with a massive climb up to around 3,500 meters, reaching the Continental Divide. Fortunately, gas stations were open, and I enjoyed a hot burrito right off the microwave on the road—a true highlight.
Despite the beautiful weather, the day was grueling due to intense heat and relentless headwinds that forced me to push hard even downhill and spend long stretches in aerodynamic bars battling the wind. After tackling a larger mountain followed by a smaller one, I aimed to reach Del Norte as my daily goal, knowing there would be long stretches with no services afterward. Time to recover and prepare for the next leg of the race.
Day 11: Recovery and Positive Progress
Yesterday afternoon I hit a rough patch with stomach issues that caused some dehydration and made it hard to keep power on the pedals. Luckily, I made it to Del Norte before dark where I had a hotel reservation. Despite some complications, I got checked in and then stocked up again at an open gas station.
I ate a lot to regain energy—drinking an entire liter of chocolate milk, eating two tuna sandwiches, multiple muffins and cupcakes, and chocolate. I slept well for about four and a half hours, though the whole process felt slow and inefficient since exhaustion had taken its toll on my concentration.
I started early the next morning while it was still dark and began a long climb up to the highest pass of the Tour Divide. I quickly felt my strength returning and my stomach settling. The rest of the day went well with good power and positive vibes.
My lead over Max seems to have grown a bit, and the gap to Jens may be closing. Data reception is spotty, so it’s tough to say for sure. The day’s route included fun but technical sections with loose rock on the Continental Divide Trail, so I decided to push the bike through where needed to avoid aggravating my recovering saddle sores.
The good news is this is the first day I’ve felt improvement in my saddle condition despite the daily load. It’s a promising sign, and I’m hopeful this positive trend continues. Let’s keep our fingers crossed!
Day 12: A Night of Struggle and Recovery
Yesterday afternoon I had some great fun with some of the best mountain biking on the Continental Divide Trail. The terrain was mostly rideable with short hike-a-bike sections, providing a lot of fun and beautiful views. When I arrived in the town Abiquiú where I planned to rest, I found that Jens, in second place, was also there, and I maintained a slight lead over Max.
However, a major challenge arose as almost all stores and gas stations had already closed—arriving around 11 p.m. meant no easy access to food. I checked into a lodge, expecting to buy something there, but it turned out to be completely self-catered, with no food available except for a small stash of leftovers like expired bread, milk, a tin of tuna, and a frozen spinach pie that I heated in the microwave. Not ideal, but I made do, taking some toasties along for the road.
The night was a nightmare: my cabin had many insects inside—mosquitoes, moths, and bugs all over the bed and mattress. It was impossible to get comfortable or sleep properly, as countless critters crawled over me, leaving me itchy and restless. There was no shower available because it was solar-powered and only worked during the day.
After a few hours of broken, unrefreshing sleep, I decided to get an early start. Unfortunately, the questionable leftovers affected my stomach badly in the morning, causing weakness and frequent stops. Luckily, by afternoon, I reached Cuba, New Mexico, where I had a proper meal—fresh burrito and fries—and stocked my bottles. Now, I’m on a 180-kilometer stretch to the next larger town for a real hotel stay to recover fully.
Though Jens is still ahead and Max is following close, my spot in third feels secure for now. The final days promise to be tough, but after this ordeal, I’m feeling more positive about finishing strong.
Day 13: Tough Roads and Equipment Setbacks
My ride from Cuba to Grants last afternoon, covering about 180 kilometers of rolling terrain, started quite well. But the second half of the stint turned tough with fierce headwinds and thunderstorms, making the approach to Grants feel much longer.
Arriving at my hotel, I found that all gas stations and shops had closed, despite checking opening hours on Google Maps—which proved unreliable yet again. The motel staff confirmed that store hours in New Mexico can’t be trusted online. I made do with some gummy bears and invented a sugary dinner using coffee creamers and sugar from the hotel coffee machine.
Earlier, a major mishap struck when a water-filled milk jug in my gear bag burst, soaking all my equipment—down jacket, pants, hat, gloves, and ID—forcing me to wring out and attempt to dry everything overnight with the hotel’s air conditioning. At least it was just water, not a sticky sports drink.
The day’s ride moved from asphalt back to gravel roads, passing the famous Toaster House in Pie Town, although the owner wasn’t around so I grabbed a snack at a nearby cafe. The ride continued over endless, washboarded gravel roads—a real test of patience and endurance, with power-sapping headwinds persisting through the morning.
As the race draws to a close, keeping focus and minimizing breaks becomes even tougher after two weeks of pushing hard. Every kilometer now feels like a real step toward the finish. The landscape, though challenging, held its own charm. Placements remained steady, with Jens about three hours ahead and Max two hours behind—each giving their all in these final days. The finish line is within sight, and the anticipation for the end builds with every pedal stroke.
Day 14: The Final Push and Podium Finish
On the last stretch towards the finish line, the race intensity went through the roof. Jens, Max, and I all pushed hard to see how the final standings would shake out. I decided to try staying awake through the last night, hoping to gain an edge. Jens seemed to have the same idea, and we battled through the night with only short power naps. Max eventually pulled out, taking a longer break.
By morning, the gaps were clear: Jens secured second, I held third, and Max was fourth. With little chance of changes barring serious mishaps, the motivation to ride flat out faded. I took time in Silver City to enjoy a proper breakfast of tacos and fruit, something I wouldn’t have done if still racing full sprint.
The remaining route took me through hot, sandy steppe landscapes with no shade under a fierce sun. In one descent, I caught my front wheel in deep sand, catapulting me off and scraping my arm, knee, and leg. With no water nearby, I rinsed wounds with a can of Monster energy drink, which surprisingly soothed the stinging nicely thanks to the carbonation. I rode on to a gas station for proper rinsing.
Though painful, the injuries didn’t stop me from finishing the last 70 kilometers. Crossing the finish line on the podium was overwhelming—a mix of relief, pride, and gratitude. I’m deeply thankful to my family for their support and to everyone who sent motivating messages throughout the race.
I never imagined as a rookie that I’d finish in under 14 days or that I’d make the podium in such a competitive field. The fierce battle with Jens and Max kept me focused and motivated over the long haul. This experience has been unforgettable, now looking forward to some serious rest and nice talks with my contenders. Over and out!
Jochen Böhringer - MTB & Ultracycling 