For Kim Sprenger, Assistant Director for Clinical Research Services for the Institute for Clinical and Translational Science and the Department of Internal Medicine, hours- or days-long bike treks are nothing new.
“I have been biking for years and years. I usually put in about five to six thousand miles a year, including some ultra distance triathlons over the years,” she explained.
Sprenger has cycled in rain and sun, on quick trips and long hauls, alone and with groups, for much of her life. However, there was a trail she had never gotten around to riding until this year: the great mountainous Continental Divide of the Americas. Covering almost 3,000 miles from its start in Canada to its end at the border of Mexico, the trip is no easy feat, and certainly not one safe to try without proper training and planning.
“In June of 2023, one of my long-time biking friends called me and asked me if I wanted to do the great Continental Divide mountain bike ride,” Sprenger said “I said sure, because it had always been on my bucket list.”
Sprenger had long thought of the ride as a “someday” goal, perhaps for retirement—but her friend wanted to go right away. “You never know what’s going to happen, so I said, ‘Yes, I’m up for it!’”
Preparing for the ride involved gathering the proper camping and riding gear, planning a route, and practicing overnight and multiple-day rides. Sprenger’s husband planned to follow the group in a vehicle full of extra supplies, but wouldn’t be able to trail them closely in more remote areas. She and the other riders knew they would have to be ready for anything on the trek: a variety of terrains and weather conditions, inconsistent food and water accessibility, unreliable cell service, and more.
“From Cuba, New Mexico, to Grant, New Mexico, is 130 miles, through some very desolate areas and terrain. There’s one water stop—one well that you can count on—so we had to make sure we didn’t miss it. We would have to carry enough water to get there, then refill with enough to make it the rest of the way,” Sprenger recalled.
The group, consisting of Sprenger, fellow University of Iowa employee Duane Staskal, and three of their friends, set out from Banff, Canada, on August 4. It was immediately obvious that the ride wouldn’t be without difficulty; on the mountainous trail, they had to ride single file and often on a narrow incline for miles. Sprenger and Staskal documented each day, she on her Facebook page and he on Instagram (and now in a series of YouTube videos). The start of their journey was difficult, but also beautiful, with incredible views as a reward for many long hours of uphill riding. Sprenger recalled the climbs as the most challenging part of the whole trek, at one point limiting the group to 23 miles over the course of six hours.
On the 15th day, one rider in the group crashed his bike and broke his collarbone. The remoteness of the area meant that no support vehicles could immediately reach the riders, forcing them to walk the injured man down the mountain until they found some campers along the trail who offered the use of a side-by-side to get him to their support vehicles and eventually a hospital.
“My nursing experience [as a Registered Nurse and in clinical research] came in handy there. I splinted his shoulder and did neuro checks, making sure he was doing okay as we were trying to get him and his bike down the mountain,” Sprenger said. “It takes a whole team to get help if somebody gets injured. So, he went off to the hospital and then the next day, one of our other support vehicles took him to fly home. After that, the gentleman that he had invited decided to ride ahead, so it ended up being myself, Duane, and my friend Robb that finished the route together.”
Finishing the route took the remaining riders 35 more days, ending on September 22 and making the trip 50 days in total. Frequently, single track paths or difficult terrain made it necessary to rearrange their proposed schedule, taking rests after tough days or pushing themselves when the ride was smoother. If there were long stretches with no towns in which to stop for water, the bikers used filtration devices to refill their supply from any accessible streams. Each rider also carried battery packs to charge their lights, GPS, and cell phones, conserving energy as they could. By the time they arrived at their ending point of the border crossing at Antelope Wells 45 miles south of Hachita, New Mexico, they had ridden 2,832.6 miles, which included 180,764 feet of climbing.
There were two particularly rewarding aspects to the trip, Sprenger mentioned: “One was talking to the local people and hearing their stories about living in these remote areas. One woman talked about having to take a snowmobile 70 miles to and from town during the winter! We met people from all over the world that were riding the trail as well and talked to them. It was incredible; the people you meet along the way are inspiring.”
The other reward was the scenery. “It’s just amazing,” Sprenger said. “That’s one thing I like about biking: you see so much more because you slow down. The first time I ever rode in Utah, I smelled the sage . . . you smell flowers, you smell the trees. And every day throughout the day, the scenery changed. You experience things when you’re on a bike that you don’t experience when you’re driving 60 or 70 miles per hour down a highway.”
Sprenger also feels that aspects of her ride will stick with her now that she’s returned home, like the feeling of connection to and responsibility for her own health, making a habit of connecting with her environment and exercising to relieve stress, and getting back up on her bike after some well-deserved rest. She even had some tips to share with people who may be thinking of creating their own long-distance rides: “Start slow, it’s not a race. It’s about taking one pedal stroke at a time, or one step at a time, and not comparing yourself to the next person. Do what is right for you.”