What is the best thing about working at The Cycling House?

The camps are centered around the riding and food, which are always amazing, but the people, guests, and staff turn the camp into such a complete experience. Each group of guests is unique, and seeing the group dynamics develop through the experiences of group riding and sharing meals creates the magic of The Cycling House.

Do you have a favorite ride?

So many to choose from it's hard to pick just one, but I'll roll with the Friday Beer Ride (which is not always on Friday).  Emerald Mountain in Steamboat Springs has an MTB trail network starting from downtown.  Meet up at the stables, up Lupine to Morning Gloria, a rambling trail with amazing views of Mt. Werner, to the summit.  Across Root Canal, then onto the secret Hugh trail out to the bench on the southern slope with a panoramic view of the Divide and out to the Flat Tops Wilderness.  Drink a beer here, then pick any trail back down the front side; you can't go wrong with the downhill; guaranteed stress relief and a wide smile on your face!

What is the most memorable day you’ve ever had on the bike?

Another tough question, but I go back to a group bikepacking ride on the Baja Divide Trail, which is the most challenging bikepacking trip I have ever done.  This is remote desert riding, where food and water are critical, and the bikes are heavy, where the riding can range from deep sand to loose cobbles, with very steep climbs and rugged descents.  We were on a long coastal section of the wild Pacific Ocean, riding a two-track with stunning views, broken up by the occasional fishing village or encampment of surfers, with endless bluffs and deserted beaches, just a beautiful day of riding.  This was our longest stretch without any resupply, and the one well on the route turned up empty, so we were pushing a three-day ride into two days.  As the sun set and we stretched our lights out along the winding road, the air turned cool and we hit a final climb of deep, loose, nearly unrideable gravel.  The fatigue of our 12-hour effort was setting in for all of us, and any level area was looking good enough to stop for camp.  As we topped out on a ridge, we could see the lights of a small town in the distance, and the promise of food and water, beer if we were lucky.  Another ten miles and we rolled up to the one open shop in town, bought all of their remaining burritos and a solid supply of cold Tecate, and shared high fives and toasts to a long day of pushing beyond our limits.