The Box of Shame

At some point in the spring of 2021, a box showed up full of really nice things. This box – or more accurately its contents – were acquired with the best of intentions. I opened it, looked at the nice things, admired the design and manufacturing of said them, pulled out one small thing out that's now bolted to my Rocky Mountain Element… and put everything else back in the box.

That was it. The box sat in a corner in my shed. I moved houses. The box moved to a new corner in the rafters of the garage. At some point during the organization of this new space, the box ended up inside a tote. It continued to sit, now out of sight and out of mind. For the better part of three years, I would occasionally catch glimpses of this box, or need to move it to get to something else, and I would feel a tug of shame and regret.

But now the time has come to finally act. The box has been opened. Components have been installed. Shakedown rides are happening, tickets are booked, and an intensive mapping exercise is in progress. The box has gone to the great recycling bin in the sky.

The astute among you will recognize the Tailfin name from the start line of every major ultra race in recent times, Lachlan’s Tour Divide FKT, and/or because you’re a cycling gear nerd like me. The company originally launched out of Vancouver, BC, with one product on Kickstarter. To say the Kickstarter was successful is an understatement; it reached 1200% of the funding goal for the carbon fiber AeroRack, a clever, highly engineered rack system designed to help folks with high end drop bar bikes carry stuff. Think Commuters with Computers on Cervélos.

From their current home in the UK, Tailfin still sells the AeroRack and pannier system and has broadened the product range out to a whole host of cargo carrying SKUs with a similar underlying design and engineering, that's been widely adopted by the bikepacking ultra crowd. They’re the antithesis of traditional steel racks and waxed canvas bags, instead featuring carbon fiber, forged and CNC’d clamps, technical fabrics, and clever and often unconventional details. They’re products made by and for nerds, and I’m here for it. And I’m taking my Tailfin things to California.

No, I’m not pedaling down there from North Vancouver, although that’d be fun. I’m going to fly into SFO, assemble my bike, and pedal out the door. In theory, after about 5 days and 200-300 miles later, I’ll do that operation in reverse. The route is currently very rough; I’m headed north across the Golden Gate into Marin County, working my way around the Bay broadly in a clockwise direction. It’s also overly ambitious; the route is too long, and I know it's unlikely I’ll finish it all. I’ll do as much as I can and then bail for the BART system to make my flight home.

This trip will likely be five nights, although one of those may end up in a hotel just due to the logistics and challenges camping in the backyard of nearly eight million people and some other uncertainties. I’ll hopefully hit everything from Repack Hill to some classic Bay Area coastal road riding and lacing it all together with Marin County singletrack on the way to the San Rafael Bridge. Who knows, if the winds are in my favor and I don't get too distracted by Blue Bottle Coffee*, I may even end up in the San Francisco Peninsula on the trails above Santa Cruz. I’m going in with a reasonable amount of general area knowledge, but also zero experience on bikes anywhere in the vicinity (please, throw ideas and your experiences in the comments or send me a DM on Instagram if you want to throw me some beta!). I’m currently deep in the fantastic resource that is bikepacking.com routes, Ride with GPS plotting my course, contingencies, and of course coffee/beer/sausage stops.

*Yes, I know they're owned by Nestle now. It's still great coffee.

For a bike, I’ll be on my custom Ti Landyachtz that you’ve seen here before, setup with We Are One Revive wheels shod with 50c Maxxis Ravagers. These are a tire that’s significantly knobbier, wider, and beefier than my usual fare. I’ve been swapping several different sets of Maxxis around lately, and the Ravager should provide a good blend of all day comfort, decent rolling pace for the smooth bits, and still have lots of bite for the mountain bike-y bits. Soon enough on these pages I'll have a rundown on all the major gravel tires in the Maxxis lineup, but that's for another time. For this trip, we're going to the ancestral home of mountain biking; let's take a somewhat appropriate tire.

I'll be doing final packing and bag selection in the next few days (I'm currently back home in Wyoming racing downhill... the kind on long skis, not long bikes), but between Tailfin AeroPack and panniers, a full frame Apidura bag, and ancillaries, I've got more storage space options than any sane person could need. Barring some sort of extreme anomaly, the weather should be "mostly nice and possibly a bit damp and chilly sometimes". I'll be packing some cold-ish and wet weather gear, and a real tent instead of a bivy. I'll do a full gear rundown upon return, but based on weather, refuel options, and general logistics I don't need to be packing the kitchen sink.

The biggest gear unknown at the moment is shoes... what shoes. I'm leaning toward the Trailcross CL reviewed here, as there's likely to be some walking and they are less tap-dance-y around town, but they also suck if it rains. I also might end up in the now-defunct Shimano ME5 I reviewed last year. In most cases I'm leaning away from most of my true XC or gravel shoes; I'd enjoy the extra stiffness for long riding days, but walking is significantly worse. I reserve the right to change this opinion 14 times before I get on a plane.

This whole operation is a bit out of my comfort zone – while I’m not a total stranger to bikepacking, most of my experience consists of one or two nights on a mountain bike with friends within driving distance of home. But getting out of my comfort zone is part of the idea here, trying something new and different. I’ve been on mountain bike trips plenty of times and while they’re great and I’ll do more this summer (including an iconic demented DH race you’ll hear more about), I wanted to do something different and unexpected.

It's time to go do things; stop looking at the box and feeling bad. Make. it. happen*. I’m hoping it means I come home to an empty Box of Shame and can start storing some memories instead.

*I must acknowledge that I couldn’t do anything of this sort without the support of my partner. I’m hoping to take Squirt on a trip this summer as well, but as I’m not RJ Sauer this trip seems a bit ambitious to be Squirt’s first.