A brief history of the origins of Tour Divide
The Great Divide Race, 2004-2010
On June 9, 2023, 200 riders — 181 men, 18 women, and apparently one dog — launched on a 2,800-mile bicycle race following the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route from Canada to Mexico (or vice versa, as there are both southbound and northbound races happening concurrently.) This is the 15th running of the Tour Divide, a largely underground, self-supported competition that attracts adventurous cyclists from all over the world. They vie to discover who can be the fastest — or for most, who can simply endure two to four weeks of near-constant motion in unpredictable weather, remote landscapes, and rugged terrain along the spine of the continent.
The event has gained mainstream attention since its humble start in 2008 — not a lot, but some. This spotlight seems to have overshadowed the true beginnings of Divide racing, and an event that seems all but forgotten — the Great Divide Race. The pioneers of GDR deserve credit, so I wanted to write a brief introduction to the race that, in many ways, launched what bikepacking is today. They spearheaded lightweight bags, fast-rolling mountain bike tires, and comfortable yet efficient cockpits for all-day hammering. They pushed the boundaries of what “touring” cyclists were capable of achieving. Their openness about their experiences helped ordinary bicycle touring enthusiasts (like myself) believe it was possible to dream big.
The Great Divide Mountain Bike Route began as a casual discussion between Gary MacFadden — at the time the director of a bicycle touring advocacy and mapping organization called Adventure Cycling — and then-assistant director, Michael McCoy sometime around 1990. Their idea was to take bicycle travel off-road with a route that would roughly parallel the Continental Divide. For years, the organization didn’t have the funding or staff to blaze such a route, but a $40,000 grant from REI and donations from the organization’s members helped boost the project forward. McCoy spent several years researching the route, traveling the West with his jeep and a 1992 Fisher Paragon. Adventure Cycling released maps for a 2,465-mile off-road route from the Canadian border to the Mexican border in 1997.
The person who introduced the idea of racing the GDMBR was elite mountain bike racer John Stamstad. Stamstad dominated the endurance end of the sport, logging victories in 24-hour races and the 350-mile Iditasport Extreme in Alaska while being lucratively sponsored by Chevy Trucks. He originally planned a head-to-head competition with a frequent Iditasport rival, Pat Norwill. Norwill bowed out before the August 1999 start, so Stamstad set out for an “individual time trial” of the route.
“My roots are in expeditions,” Stamstad told Mountain Zone magazine. “The spirit of mountain biking is in the experience, not just a race. I like to get out into wilderness, which is why I do these things.”
He guessed that the fastest anyone had ridden this relatively new route was six weeks. He wanted to finish it in two. His “race” didn’t go perfectly — he struggled to navigate with the still-in-development Adventure Cycling maps and added at least 100 bonus miles while lost. He broke three spokes and had five flats. His Achilles tendon pained him for most of the ride. When he rolled into Antelope Wells, New Mexico, Stamstad set the standard at 18 days, 5 hours. Bicycling Magazine called his feat “seemingly impossible.”
“It was in some ways the hardest thing I have ever done,” Stamstad told Mountain Zone. “My future in the sport really depends on how long I can take it mentally — you have to do this for the passion — no amount of money is enough for this kind of difficulty.”
Another of Stamstad’s frequent Iditasport competitors, Mike Curiak, took an interest in the route four years later. Mike took part in several conversations with Stamstad and Norwill about the ethos of a solo ITT, sparking his interest and establishing the general set of rules that largely still govern self-supported bike racing and its successor, the Fastest Known Time.
“We were burnt to death on 24-hour races, but still no races were popping up,” Curiak said in an interview with The Bicycle Story in 2014. “No promoters had gone bigger, so to speak. I just took the initiative and said we don’t need to spend two grand to race in circles at a 24 for a weekend when we could probably spend $1,000 and be out for a couple of weeks and have a real adventure instead of doing laps. I invited a lot of people in 2003, the first year I tried to do the Divide. Nobody showed up. I DNF’d about halfway through.”
In 2004, Curiak again set out to race the GDMBR, inviting “anyone and everyone” to join him. This time, six others took an interest, including a woman semi-pro mountain bike racer, Trish Stevenson. Others included a former pro from the Czech Republic named Jan Kopka, a young maître d' from North Carolina named Matthew Lee, and a 23-year-old from Alaska, Pete Basinger.
Stevenson and two others were unable to complete the race due to mechanicals or injury. Kopka started strong but fell back. Mike observed that he had a decent race but was frustrated to be slowed down by issues such as failed gear (he melted his gloves over a campfire) and multiple mechanicals. The young Alaskan never let Mike get comfortable; the harder Mike rode, the faster Pete pursued. They rode near each other — never together, as drafting was strictly forbidden in the self-support ethos — for most of the race.
“Spending that much time chasing or attacking the same person is exhausting, mentally, because you're constantly running through all of the potential outcomes,” Mike told Cycling News. “I was unwilling to sprint against Pete, knowing I stood little chance of overcoming his 23-year-old legs. So, with 10 miles to go, I started a near-maximal time trial.”
Mike laid down the hammer and Pete finally fell back, finishing a mere 24 minutes after Mike, who set the new record at 16 days, 57 minutes. Kopka logged a 20-day finish, and Lee rolled into Antelope Wells all alone and far back from the others in 30 days, 4 hours, and 30 minutes.
After 2004, Curiak stepped away from the Great Divide Race and largely from racing. Although he continued to keep a background organizational presence through the GDR’s lifespan, he was openly critical of the route and the evolution of the race.
“I've been outspoken in my dislike of this route since forever, primarily because even though it was labeled and sold as a mountain bike route it has nothing in common with mountain biking,” Curiak wrote in 2017. “97% of this route could be driven in a low-clearance 2WD sedan. (Editor’s note: That’s really not true. But it is true that 97% qualifies as 4WD road or better.) Calling it the Great Divide Gravel Grinding Route would have been more apropos, more honest, and would have pushed me in a different direction from the get-go. (Editor’s note: In Adventure Cycling’s defense, “gravel grinding” as a separate sport was still far off the radar in the 1990s.) I don't know what I would have cooked up instead, but I know that today I'd have a lot less nerve damage in my hands and ankles and would probably still be able to ride a solid mile of gravel before vomiting onto my shoes.”
“Most of the credit goes to (Pete Basinger) for keeping the race going beyond ‘04,” Curiak told SlowTwitch magazine in 2013. “He saw something I didn’t and kept it going for a few years. It has since morphed into the Tour Divide — a very different event from what I created or envisioned. Seems popular, but maybe for the wrong reasons.”
Basinger was determined to break the record he barely missed and took it upon himself to organize the 2005 race. One of the competitors that year, Allen Tilling, wrote a great description of the field:
“Pete Basinger soundly beat me to McGrath the previous year. In him, I saw determination and character. Trish Stevenson — tall, athletic, strong, she’s here to finish the race that she abandoned through injury the previous year. Brad Kee — a kayaker from the East Coast, a big guy with not a huge amount of big rides behind him. Matthew Lee — finished the race last year but cruised it, why is he here again? Scott Morris — unassuming, quiet, a wizard with a GPS. He rode the route the previous year from south to north mapping the entire route.”
“Last but not least is Kent Peterson. The oldest, shortest, and by a wide margin the most eccentric of the lineup, he has ridden the 600 miles from his house to the start line. He is riding a steel rigid singlespeed with 26” wheels, he has whittled a pair of aero bars from sticks found in his backyard, attached with string and tape he has various paraphernalia swinging from bike and body. He has flat pedals with powerstraps, he has one of those small mirrors on a thin wire protruding from his helmet. Who the hell does he think is going to be creeping up on him in the middle of the desert?”
Morris dropped out after 625 miles in Lima, Montana, due to sciatica, ITB syndrome, and numb fingers. Tilling dropped out later for the same reason. Pete also had to abandon the race.
“Pete was riding hard in terrible headwinds to get the record,” Tilling wrote. “He reached a point of exhaustion when he could hardly turn the pedals. His comment after was that he would just have to go back and try again.”
The 2005 finishers were likely a surprise for the few fans following the race. “Cruiser” Matthew Lee won the race in 19:04:17. Brad Kee and Trish Stevenson finished together in 21:23:47, with Stevenson setting the record as the first woman to race the route. And the dude with the weird helmet mirror, “Mountain Turtle” Kent Peterson, finished in an impressively speedy 22:03:09, setting the singlespeed standard. Kent wrote a wonderful long-form race report — The Way of the Mountain Turtle — that I devoured with intense interest during the autumn of 2005. This is where my fandom of the race begins.
Eight men — no women — started the Great Divide Race in 2006. Basinger wasn’t one of them. I don’t know the reasons, but I do know he spent the summer riding and racing in Anchorage. I met him in June at the 24 Hours of Kincaid, where he and I contended through the night for the men’s and women’s solo wins. He was dreamy, with soft brown eyes and a strong chin. I was instantly his number-one fan. It was then I finally connected him to the Great Divide Race. I already knew of Kent’s adventure and was cheering for a virtual friend named Dave Nice, a distillery worker from Colorado who planned to take on the insane challenge of riding the route on a fixed-gear bike.
At the time, the only way to spectate the race was to listen to the daily call-ins to MTBCast, an early podcast hosted by Joe Polk. Racers would call in from pay phones (remember those?) Polk would record their punch-drunk missives and then broadcast them on his Web site. There was no editing or much commentary from Polk, so it was always difficult to discern exactly what was happening each day.
The 2006 race largely fell apart during the second week, when most of the field departed with injuries or just stopped calling in without giving a reason. Sadly, Dave Nice’s bike was stolen while he was napping in western Montana. A racer contending for the record, John Nobile, left with complications of a cold virus amid brutal monsoon storms in Colorado. Matt Lee went it alone for the rest of the distance, finishing in 17 days, 22 hours.
25 riders lined up for the 2007 Great Divide Race. Pete Basinger was one returning to gun for the record — I was so excited! Matthew Lee was back as well. John Nobile was another strong contender, as was a rookie of the race, a carpenter from Wyoming named Jay Petervary. John Billman documented the quirky cast of characters and his own race in the popular Outside Magazine article that boosted Divide racing into the mainstream — “The World’s Toughest Bicycle Race is not in France.”
The 2007 race seemed to be filled with controversy that was hashed out in nauseating detail on a message forum, MTBR. Some of the points of contention included time limits — the racer contingent thought the finishers list should be capped at 25 days; anything slower was touring pace and not competitive. Another controversy was cell phone use. Coverage for those little flip phones was becoming more ubiquitous, and Mike Curiak thought this could give racers an unfair advantage — they could call ahead for hotel reservations or call home for weather reports or information on other competitors. Payphones were only available in towns, so those were fair. Plus, the call-ins were the only way to confirm racers’ positions; these were the days before GPS tracking. But cell phones, Curiak argued, should be banned.
Matthew Lee brought up his own controversy because he believed the race should start 250 miles north. A few years prior, Adventure Cycling extended the GDMBR through southern Alberta to Banff. Lee thought it only made sense to follow the entire route, while Curiak was adamant the race stick to the standard pioneered by Stamstad in 1999. Curiak wouldn’t budge on this, so Lee rode a solo prelude from Banff to the U.S. border.
Controversy continued through the race when a flagger on a paved pass in Wyoming stopped race leader Jay Petervary and told him he needed to ride in the pilot vehicle. He ignored the flagger and raced through the construction zone. This enraged the flagger, who stopped Pete Basinger next.
“She phoned the heat, but her real wrath was uncapped for the next rider, Pete Basinger, whom she forced to ride in the pilot car — against one of the few GDR rules,” Billman wrote. “While Jay lost the posse and gunned it for the lawless Great Divide Basin, Pete's conscience made him turn back and ride Togwotee in the dark.”
Basinger later dropped out with food poisoning, although some speculated that his morale was too depleted after backtracking put the GDR record out of reach. Petervary would go on the win the race and break the record in 15 days, 4 hours, and 18 minutes. Matt Lee also came in ahead of the old record in 15 days, 22 hours, and 40 minutes in second place. Ten men — no women — finished the Great Divide Race that year.
My GDR fandom hit fever pitch in 2008 when my then-boyfriend, Geoff Roes, decided he would line up in Roosville. Because of this, I offered to take over blogging duties for the now-defunct official Web site, greatdividerace.com. I planned to listen to the daily call-ins, extract any relevant information, and write a summary report at the end of each day. Previously, the blog only included transcripts of the call-ins that Joe Polk was already broadcasting on his podcast. I put in a lot of work for these daily reports, but they proved to be unpopular. People wanted the call-in transcripts. Go figure.
Pete Basinger didn’t return to the GDR this year — as I recall he simply couldn’t afford to take this much time off for the race every single summer. Jay Petervary wasn’t there either. A smaller field of 18 racers started the 2008 Great Divide Race — because there was a concurrent race drawing an equal number of participants, the first Tour Divide.
Amid the 2007 controversies, Curiak told Matt Lee that if he so badly wanted the GDR to start in Banff, he should just start his own race. So he did exactly that. The 2008 Tour Divide was filmed by racer Mike Dion, who later dropped out of the race to focus on his film. He released what is now a cult classic in the bike film genre, “Ride the Divide.”
The 2008 Great Divide Race was a comparatively quieter affair. John Nobile and Geoff Roes raced neck in neck to Steamboat Springs, where my beleaguered boyfriend dropped out with “full body exhaustion.” Six people finished the GDR that year, including a British woman named Jenn Hopkins who set the women’s singlespeed record in 22 days, 18 hours, and 40 minutes.
John Nobile crushed the record he had been fiercely gunning for, winning the race in 15 days, 1 hour, and 26 minutes. Sadly, as soon as he finished, his achievement was already being overshadowed by the rapidly rising Tour Divide.
The Great Divide Race did not die out right away. In 2009, two men started and finished the race. Cullen Barker — one of the first riders to get involved in this style of racing — finished in 23 days and 8 hours. Tommy Tuite was two hours behind him.
The 2010 race featured one finisher, Nathan Jones, who went on to start the hugely popular TransAm Bicycle Race, a self-supported, cross-country road race on Adventure Cycling’s original 4,200-mile Trans-America Bicycle Trail.
After 2010, the Great Divide Race went quietly into the good night. Tour Divide, meanwhile, gripped the imaginations of thousands with the release of Ride the Divide. Where does my involvement fall into this story? I will cover that in the next installment of this series.
Wonderful dive into the history of the race, Jill!! I learned so much. Especially loved the descriptions of everyone lining up at the start line (Kent Peterson!!!). Thanks for putting this together and looking forward to more.
Great stuff, Jill. I'm looking forward to part two.