The TransMexico Norte bikepacking route hugs the foothills of the Sierra Madre mountains on its way from Durango to Zacatecas. As we followed the route, we found ourselves alternately climbing up into the cool, pine-cloaked mountains, then plunging back down onto Mexico’s hot, arid, central plateau. There, at the edge of the desert, we cycled between bustling cities and magical towns that trace their histories to the Spanish empire’s hunger for silver and gold.

Saying farewell to Baja, we voyaged across the Sea of Cortez to mainland Mexico. From there, an arduous but spectacular 9,000 ft ascent (2,750 m) would take us from the coast to the heights of Mexico’s Sierra Madre mountains. Along the way we officially crossed into the tropics and rode through grand, colonial-era towns built on the mining of silver and gold.

The final segment of the Baja Divide bikepacking route is the longest. For 170+ miles (275 km) it makes one final crossing of the Sierra La Giganta Mountains, then follows the stunning coast of the Sea of Cortez to the region’s capital in La Paz. On the first day we visited another one of Baja’s historic missions in the mountains. After lingering briefly in the cool, tranquil church and a pleasant lunch in the shade of a palapa, we cycled back out into the scorching, thorny, rocky and sandy backcountry. A tough road over the mountains, made a bit harder by a rooster-induced lack of sleep, brought us to the idyllic beaches of San Evaristo. There, an abundance of seafood tacos restored our energy. We spent our final night on the Baja Divide at one of the most beautiful campsites we’d ever had, next to a green stone cliff on a completely secluded beach. Seven days after departing Ciudad Constitución, we cycled into La Paz, buoyed by the memories of our incredible Baja journey, and ready to head to Mexico’s mainland for more adventure.

We began this leg of the Baja Divide bikepacking route by cycling along the shores of a deep blue bay in the Sea of Cortez. Our destination was Loreto, one of Mexico’s Pueblos Mágicos, and the town where Spanish influence in Baja began. From there, a lung-busting climb into the heights of the Sierra La Giganta mountains set us up for another rough and wild descent through the central desert - complete with towering cliffs, palm-lined oases, and the chance to visit remote ranches where some traditions have changed little for centuries. The last dash across the sandy Magdalena Plain carried us through acres of orange groves, until we finally came to rest in the agricultural heartland of Baja California Sur.

The Baja Divide route out of San Ignacio led us southward for a rendezvous with some of Baja’s famous gray whales. Then a fast and fun race across salt-encrusted flats brought us back to the foot of the mountains. We cycled upwards through a valley dominated by a desert arroyo - alternately maneuvering through slippery piles of cobblestones in the river bed or plowing through deep sand along its banks. In the most remote areas, we gratefully accepted the hospitality of ranchers who welcomed us into their homes for food and rest. After some of the most difficult cycling we have tackled so far, we finally landed in the exuberantly colorful, historic town of Mulegé.

After visits to a few dentists in Ensenada and Tijuana, we resumed our bicycle trip where we left off. A beautiful ride through Baja’s central desert brought us to a laid back, coastal village and our first encounter with the Sea of Cortez. From there, we savored the sensation of returning to Baja’s remote backcountry as we cycled between remote desert ranches through ankle-deep sand, where shade was a precious commodity in the sun-baked landscape - until we finally arrived at the palm-studded oasis of Misión San Ignacio.

We began this leg of the Baja Divide bikepacking route with a sense of excitement and anticipation. We would finally cycle into Baja’s iconic central desert, with its giant cacti and other strange plants that look like they came right out of a Dr. Seuss book. The dry, rugged deserts would challenge our water planning skills. And we would tackle the infamous Section 8, the longest stretch of the Baja Divide without any access to food or water. The rewards for those challenges included magical landscapes, lots of wildlife sightings, and a once-in-a-lifetime campsite on a secluded Baja beach.

Baja California has a special allure for travelers, and cyclists are not immune. Since its inception in 2017, the Baja Divide bikepacking route has captivated off-road cyclists with the promise of pristine ocean shores, grand desert crossings, friendly cultural connections, and up-close encounters with weird and wonderful plants that grow nowhere else in the world. How could we resist? After traversing the urban sprawl of San Diego, we were thrown into a new world of adventure. Each day brought fresh challenges and surprises as we cycled through remote mountain passes between colorful, laid-back towns on the backroads of Baja.

The road from Big Sur to Southern California took us through a series of transitions - from wetter to drier, mountains to beaches, and wilderness to one of the largest metropolises in the world. Landslides and storms slowed our progress. But each day of cycling yielded more farms and pasture. And those eventually gave way to tourist-friendly shops, waterfront villas, and the 150 miles of white sand beach of surfers’ dreams that followed.

Cycling southward into California, we entered the realm of the coastal redwood forests. Dark, wet, awe inspiring, and infused with an ancient majesty, these temperate rainforests are a highlight of any journey on the Pacific Coast Bike Route. We pedaled through groves of trees as tall as skyscrapers, and trunks big enough to drive through. But the scenery was not all forest. The route passed sea cliffs, sandy coves, and even the metropolis of San Francisco, ensuring that each day was an adventure.

The first 100 miles of the Pacific Coast Bike Route in Oregon brought back a flood of memories, as we cycled along roads we had traveled just four years earlier. Yet as we continued southward, the ocean cliffs, secluded beaches, and lush forests seemed to grow even more stunning with each mile. Even the onset of the rainy season in the temperate rainforest couldn’t dampen our spirits - as a series of storms showed off the fierce beauty of the Pacific Ocean.

Upon arriving at the Pacific Coast, we had entered a new world. We now cycled through the most densely populated part of Washington, albeit on more rural, secondary roads. Our route constantly rose and fell, as we traversed the stony ridges that form the backbone of Puget Sound’s islands. Evenings were marked by blazing orange sunsets. Mornings were shrouded in mist. And spooky sounds in the forest at night heralded the approach of Halloween, as we made our way south towards Oregon.

Golden leaves and chilly temperatures signaled the arrival of fall as we departed from Libby, Montana. We cycled westward in hopes of reaching the milder Pacific Coast for the winter. But the Northern Cascades stood in our way, and we had to make it over the mountains before snow closed the high passes for the season. As we approached the Cascades, we cycled through the dry forests and open grasslands of the Okanogan region, following the path of several big rivers. And when we arrived in the mountains, good luck provided us with unseasonably warm and dry weather. We had a fabulous ride through some of the Northwest’s most scenic landscapes, without the hassle of summer crowds. In the end, we couldn’t have asked for a better ride.

We cycled for several hundred miles along the Rocky Mountain Trench, a deep, nearly straight, 1,000-mile rift between two of the region’s major mountain ranges. Along the way we discovered the headwaters of the Columbia River, disrupted a secret plot by a small band of wild turkeys, and eventually crossed the border back into the United States. With some deft planning, we also managed to piece together enough dentist appointments (in multiple cities) to finally take care of a nagging toothache. The mixture of gorgeous scenery and logistical complications ensured that each day was both hectic and an adventure on the way to Libby, Montana.

Heading east from Prince George, BC, we climbed steadily into the Northern Rocky Mountains. Before long we were cycling through some of the most majestic and stunning mountains we had ever seen. Power outages, campground closures, and a toothache had us constantly changing our plans. But each day we were rewarded with a sense of wonder at the vast wilderness of rock, ice and forests at the top of the world along the Icefields Parkway in Jasper and Banff National Parks.

The Yellowhead Highway across central British Columbia had a completely different feel than the roads we had cycled farther north. We now biked through small towns every 20-25 miles. Each town had its own personality, with monuments linked to its history. Meanwhile the dense conifer forests were replaced by ever-larger hayfields, characteristic of the Fraser Plateau. Contact with other travelers, a couple of wildlife encounters, and a few mechanical surprises kept us on our toes, ensuring that each day was an adventure.

Cycling southward across British Columbia, we entered another region of vast and sparsely populated wilderness. With only a couple of small towns, this 550 mile route is known for its abundant salmon and bears. We were lucky enough to see both, as well as watching the landscape slowly transition from boreal forest to habitats more familiar in the lower 48 states - while the dramatic, ice-covered peaks of the coastal mountain range provided stunning views to the west.

We began this segment of our trip by cycling across the Southern Lakes district of the Yukon Territory - an area of long, narrow, picturesque lakes that feed the upper reaches of the Yukon River. The few towns we passed were small, with extended stretches of wild forests in between. But before reaching the village of Watson Lake, we crossed a continental divide that left the Yukon River behind.

Our first couple of weeks in Canada were full of adventure. Cycling along an ancient fault line between snow-capped peaks and Yukon’s rugged, central plateau, we enjoyed some of the most breathtaking scenery we had seen so far on our trip. Numerous encounters with wild creatures, plus intermittent battles with wind and rain ensured that our days were never dull. And a float down the fabled Yukon River provided the perfect finale for this leg of our bicycle tour.

Our bicycle tour through western Canada was full of surprises. But none were more thrilling than these three close encounters with wild bears. It is moments like these that make wilderness cycling such an amazing experience.