This was our family’s first time exploring Cuyuna, and we made the most of it, riding green trails together, paddleboarding on Yawkey Mine Lake, and staying at the Dragonfly Cabin tucked in the pines above the wetlands. With smooth trails, quiet evenings, and time outside as a family, this week gave us the perfect adventure to kickstart our summer. To learn more more about this cabin or book it for a future trip, head to the Dragonfly Cabin . This was our first trip to Cuyuna, and we were excited to finally explore a place we’d heard so much about. We’d talked about coming for a while, and this summer felt like the right time to make it happen. The whole family came, bikes in tow, with plans for several days outdoors. We were especially stoked about where we’d be staying: a custom-built cabin tucked just outside Ironton that looked quiet, comfortable, and perfectly placed for trail access. The plan was simple. Ride bikes, enjoy the time outside together, and settle into an awesome cabin for a few days. No big itinerary, just a new adventure doing something we all love. The Dragonfly Cabin: Tucked in the Pines, Perched Above the Wetlands We stayed in the Dragonfly Cabin , a small, custom-built space just outside of Ironton. Set up on a hill and surrounded by tall white pines, it overlooks a wide stretch of wetlands and feels peaceful and private, while still being just a mile from town. Designed and built by a husband-and-wife team, the cabin is compact but well laid out, with a wood stove, a spiral staircase to the loft, and large windows facing the marsh. The space is cozy, quiet, and intentional, perfect for slowing down between rides and spending time in an inspired space. We spent evenings building small fires, sitting out on the patio, and making meals in the kitchen. Nothing fancy, just the kind of simple routines that feel especially good when you’re away from home. The cabin made it easy to settle in without a big agenda. Just ride, eat, relax, repeat. We stayed in the Dragonfly Cabin, but it’s one of a few lodging options on the property. In addition to the two cabins, the owners also have a set of simple camp A-frames nestled in the woods, offering a variety of ways to experience the space depending on how you like to travel. Riding Cuyuna: All Ages, All Smiles This was our family’s first time riding in Cuyuna, and the trails were a perfect fit for our kids. We stuck to the green loops and rode together, but what stood out was how much they were able to do completely on their own power, even at a pretty young age. We did several laps around Huntington Mine Lake and Pennington Mine Lake via the Galloping Goose Trail. It was smooth, scenic, and just the right amount of challenge for little legs. We also loved the wide adaptive trails at the Sagamore Unit, which felt made for families, and the short, intimate loops around Yawkey Mine Lake gave us some great low-key laps as part of our day’s riding. One of my favorite parts of the whole trip was taking a one-on-one ride with each of my kids during the week. Riding at their pace, and just getting that time with each of them on the trail was something I absolutely loved. The kids were all about the pump track and skills park at the Miners Mountain Rally Center, which gave them a chance to ride laps, try new features, and burn off the last bit of energy before heading back to the Dragonfly Cabin to wind down. Paddleboarding, Donuts, & Outdoor Meals Off the bike, we found plenty to enjoy. One afternoon we paddleboarded on Yawkey Mine Lake. The water was crystal clear and calm, perfect for floating, swimming, and hanging out. We packed a picnic and made a full afternoon of it, with nowhere to be and nothing to do but enjoy the lake and each other’s company. In town, we stopped at High Wheel Confectionery for ice cream and candy, and grabbed custom donuts from MacDaddy’s. Each kid picked their own frosting and toppings, which made it a fun treat. Our kids also loved playing at the nearby Sea Serpent Park and managed to squeeze in several playground visits over the week. One evening, we had a night out in Crosby. Drinks at Cuyuna Brewing Company were followed by dinner just across the street at the Iron Range Eatery. We ate outside on the patio, and the warm summer night made it one of those meals you don’t forget. Everything was easy, close by, and low key. Exactly the kind of pace we were hoping for. Already Talking About Next Time By the end of the trip, none of us were ready to leave. The kids loved the trails even more than I expected, and seeing their confidence grow on the bike was a highlight of the whole week. My wife and I came away just as grateful for the chance to all be outside while riding Cuyuna's amazing trails. We’re already talking about coming back. It’s the kind of trip that leaves you tired in the best way, and already looking forward to next time. Note: Our stay at The Dragonfly Cabin was generously hosted as part of a creative trade with the owners. All experiences and opinions shared here are entirely our own.

With Gravel Nationals coming to La Crescent, Minnesota this September 2025, Chris Stindt of Smith’s Bike Shop joined a crew of media and gravel pros to pre-ride and scout the route. The verdict? It’s steep, scenic, and brutally hard. If your idea of Midwest gravel is smooth rollers and cornfields, this course will break that illusion—and maybe a few riders too. Words by Chris Stindt Late last summer it was announced that La Crescent, MN was going to host the 2025 and 2026 Gravel National Championships . This is a relatively new national championship and the first editions were more of what people typically associate with flyover/flat farm country gravel. I was pretty excited to have people finally discover what I’ve known for a few years now: the Driftless region is one of the best places to ride a bike in the country. I’ve been behind the scenes working with the event planning committee, helping out with the route plans. I have a bit of experience with local gravel - I started after the Almanzo craze (one of the earliest huge gravel races) but right on for the Filthy 50 (an event that still quickly sells out 1000 spots). My first gravel race was in 2016 on some 38c hybrid tires that I crammed into my 2x, v-brake, twitchy handling cyclocross bike. In the past decade since that experience I’ve been riding a whole lotta gravel, locally and around the Midwest. I even wrote the Nxrth gravel guide for the La Crosse area ! I do plan to publish an updated version for visitors and spectators planning to attend Gravel Nationals, so keep an eye out for that. So, what do I have to share today? Well, this week Ben Delaney , of YouTube fame, came to visit and do some shooting. JP from the Stable Cyclist hung off the back of a service car while Dan from Driftless Gravel Cycling rode shotgun. I gathered up the gravel bros, a couple of friends, and we were joined by local gravel pro, Chase Wark , who sadly, did not come with a disc rear wheel. He did however still have his super narrow chopped-drop handlebars on his mostly untouched from Unbound bike. Ben was riding an unreleased gravel (all-road?) bike from a major manufacturer. It had 40 or 42 slick tires on. I just mounted up some beyond spec 55s from Rene Herse onto my Checkpoint. Everyone else was somewhere in between, with the 45 Terra Speed and 42 Pathfinder as the most popular tires. Every single bike had disc brakes and maybe that’s not even really part of the conversation anymore, but I’m mentioning it anyway. Chase Wark would like me to recommend everyone be on 2.2” tires like me. He thinks you’d be fastest on them, especially if you’re a pro. As the crank turns, it was by far the best tire choice for the day - we literally found dump trucks and graders out adding loose, fresh gravel to the roads. For race day? Usually the fresh gravel gets laid in the spring and smoothed out all summer until it’s like pavement by the fall. Usually. I think the race will be won by some fast, not too big tires. For amateurs? Or those who are less confident descending steep, loose, windy gravel roads? Bigger is better. I had by far the best time on our pre-ride. What else can I tell you? Keep an eye out for the course maps. I’ll dissect them once we get a public view of them. Expect sustained climbs of about 5-10 minutes, with the number of climbs depending on the length of course you have. This is not rollers, and outside of the mountains, most folks will never see this much sustained elevation gain. Same for elevation loss - the downhills are steep. The scenery, if you can relax enough to enjoy it, is beautiful. But the course is hard. Ben interviewed me for his video and we talked about how hard the course would be. That was at the beginning of the ride - and then near the end we were side by side and I looked at him and said...this course is going to destroy some people. And he said, uh, maybe not destroy. I paused, considered it, and said, nope, it will. He just laughed.

The Hungry Bear Gravel Race in Cable, WI is a celebration of community, connection, and Northwoods adventure. With a vibe that welcomes riders of all backgrounds and experience levels, it’s grown into one of the most beloved gravel events in the region. In this reflective and deeply personal story, Monica Shoberg shares what it was like to take on the Snacking Bear 60-mile route, how she shaved three hours off her time from last year, and why the true heart of the Hungry Bear isn’t about speed, it’s about people. Words by Monica Shoberg of Unruly Women Driving to Cable, Wisconsin, is beautiful no matter the direction you take to get there, and if you blinked, you’d surely miss out on the opportunity to explore all this small town has to offer. I found my way to Tilly’s Pies , behind the River’s Eatery , about 20 minutes before pre-registration planned to begin. The New Moon Ski and Bike Shop and CAMBA tents were mostly set up, and already racers were lined up through the parking lot—a foretelling of the enormous event that was to unfold this weekend. I stepped in to help, being directed to whatever they needed me to do as a volunteer. Pre-Event Pies, Music, and Community Vibes The hours passed by quickly as hundreds picked up their tracking number plates, free goodies, and Hungry Bear swag before heading inside Tilly’s for pie or strolling over to the backyard of River’s Eatery to enjoy pizza outside under the towering pines. There was live music playing, people talking, and community buzzing. Annually, it seems—myself included—many have the best intentions to ride the Hungry Bear 100-mile and ultimately end up dropping down to a lower bracket of the Snacking Bear 60-mile or the Climbing Bear 30-mile. The way we all say it too, minimizing the endeavor awaiting us because it’s not the 100, as if 30 and 60 miles are small potatoes. I am enthusiastic to remind them those are no small potatoes! Ultimately, this gravel race is not just about the distance. It’s about the whole experience and the adventure that unfolds before we even reach the finish line. They smile, usually laugh a little, sometimes agree, and continue on their way. But it’s true! "If you’re only coming out to race, you’re missing out on all this event has to offer—before, during, and after." Participating in any of the Hungry Bear gravel race festivities is a great way to experience it to the fullest. Whether you’re racing, spectating, or volunteering, you’re sure to feel part of this welcoming community. Feeling both exhausted from this afternoon and excited for the race tomorrow morning, I headed to my campsite at ROAM Adventure Basecamp to spend the night. Camping at ROAM Adventure Basecamp Race Morning: Coffee, Calm, and Crunching Gravel I woke up in the forest to bird songs and rustling leaves that sounded like water in a stream. The air was crisp, and having left the vestibules open all night, it was a bit of a struggle to find the motivation to get up. A cool breeze drifted in as my tent illuminated in warm sunlight. I could hear footsteps lazily crunching gravel nearby and bike tires rolling through the campground, sounding like Pop Rocks candy crackling. I lazily stretched out my limbs, beyond pleased with myself that I had opted to bring the old futon mattress that filled the entire footprint of my tent and the extra sleeping bags for an extraordinarily cozy night’s sleep. The siren song of coffee called to me as I found the motivation to emerge, happily remembering I had an entire Stanley thermos of coffee waiting for me only a few steps away in my car. Sitting at the picnic table, I savored my mug of hot liquid energy and enjoyed the morning ambiance as the rising sun glittered between the trees. And while I also noticed how many vehicles had already left and how many people were quietly buzzing around getting their own bikes and gear together, I didn’t feel rushed and allowed myself to wake up a bit before loading up my bike bags for this morning’s gravel race. As I filled and secured the bike bags to my bike around my strategically placed race number—hoping nothing would become loose, bounce, or flap in the wind—I felt confident carrying far less with me than last year, even though I planned to ride alone this year. Partly because I’ve ridden the course once before and knew what to expect, but it was mostly due to the facts that this year everyone would be tracked with timing chips, navigation would be thoroughly posted to avoid people getting lost, there would be twice as many racers out riding, and there were more volunteers sweeping for stragglers along the course. I felt good about my last-minute decision to once again drop from the 100-mile to the 60-mile. Although my main goal was to just finish the race without getting hurt, my bonus goal was to finish a little faster than last year’s eight hours. Finding My Flow on the Forest Roads Anticipating parking to be filled quickly, I had arrived at the parking lot early, double-checked I had everything I needed, waited in the seemingly endless bathroom line for one last go, chugged the smoothie I’d pre-made, and biked over to the registration tent to say hello to the volunteers and see if I might run into any familiar faces. There were people walking around with coffee, some sitting and talking, a line still long with racers registering, some pedaling around testing out their bikes to make sure everything was working as it should, and a Specialized tent was set up to help racers with any last-minute mechanical needs. I carefully pedaled over to the start line through the crowds of people heading in all different directions. I’m not a fan of being part of the intense rollout of people and bikes packed like sardines all charging across the starting line. Instead, I’ve found it’s less stressful and more enjoyable to wait alongside the enormous crowd of Snacking Bear racers, cheer them on, and watch them go first. I heard my name being shouted and my eyes scanned the crowd of cyclists passing by. Surprised to see, it was my friend Mack! She called me over to join her and her two friends. I was stoked to have some accountability buddies to ride with and try to keep up with, even if only for part of the race. The beginning of this race is a great introduction of what’s to come without being thrown right into grueling gravel backroads. We powered through rolling hills of pavement, surrounded by forests full of enormous white pines. With no gravel in sight, we threw caution to the wind and flew down them—each time I erupted with uncontrollable laughter and yelps of childlike joy from a place deep down in my soul. Overcome by excitement of the race, the rollercoaster-like downhills, talking with and physically trying to keep up with Mack and her friends Erin and Jocelyn during the uphills and flatter sections—the first 20 miles flew by. We passed towering conifers, dark blue lakes, bogs that looked as though moose would be nearby, and endless gravel roads as far as the eyes could see. Sand Traps, Singletrack, and Surprise Motivation The gravel was a bit looser than last year, and even though I had zero hesitation pedaling downhill in high gear to gather speed for the uphills, a small voice in the back of my consciousness was very aware of the possibility of sand traps and loose gravel at the bottom of each descent. I was having way too much fun trying to keep up to worry about slowing down. If there was someone ahead of me that blew through the softer gravel or sand pit, I’d follow their same line and pedal harder to try to gather momentum to push me up the next hill. If there wasn’t someone ahead, I’d visually commit to a line, stand up out of my saddle, push pressure into both pedals, keep my knees and elbows bent and wide, exhale deeply, and allow that bike to float and swerve side to side beneath me along with the current of the dirt. Each time I made it through, I’d exhale in relief and disbelief, as if I’d just made it through the riskiest obstacle yet, and allow my body to relax for a moment as my legs pedaled on. I was completely lost in the moving meditation of cycling through these forests and being with friends and found myself pushing harder than I knew I would be if I were alone. "I was so sure a bonk was inevitable—surely in the next mile, around the next turn. I was convinced it’d hit. But that bonk never came." Less than three hours in, we arrived at the aid station around the 30-mile mark. We’d been averaging about 15 mph, which is faster than I’ve ever ridden in my life—even on the bike trainer, let alone for that duration. I definitely had a cycling high from the endorphins flooding my system. The friendly volunteers were cheering and ensuring every racer had what they needed. One even helped me button my right sleeve after struggling to get it myself. Not paying attention, I also accidentally added a fruity pink electrolyte beverage to my coffee-flavored maple syrup, assuming it was water—but I choked it down for the electrolytes anyway. Past the Bonk, Into the Joy The four of us moved out, up a slightly discouraging steep uphill that seemed summit-less. But the scenery couldn’t be beat. The temperature was perfect, the sometimes intense wind kept the air from getting stagnant, and up until now I’d been able to stick to mostly shade. This route in its entirety is a moving meditation through forests and lakes and endlessly winding road. When I wasn’t lost in the scenery around me, my mind occupied itself with brief chats with new friends and the Jorts song by Will Ferrell and Jimmy Fallon inspired by the racers wearing jorts. That led to random small personal outbursts of laughter because of the silly jingle—and I’m sure a bit of delirium. Around this time, we began to get passed by the century pelotons. Most of the time we could hear them coming—their bikes sounding like a swarm of bees heading in our direction was our only warning. At one point, one of my friends got cut off by a leader of a peloton as we were nearing a right turn. She had no choice but to veer into the ditch. Thankfully uninjured, she was a little shaken up, but not a single person in that peloton looked back to see if she was okay. We continued on together. Just as the heat began to get to me, the four of us began to splinter apart through my most favorite section of the ride: the double tracks around mile 40. Forced to bike slower and focus on remaining upright, the shade, cooler temperature, and fun through this hilly section rejuvenated me. This is where mountain biking skills really kicked in. We all made it through and gathered together again as we ventured onto the more predictable gravel backroads. The lake about 15 miles from the finish is where my friend Kaila and I decided to stop for a much-needed dip last year to cool off after I’d gotten us lost, unintentionally adding on five miles. This time, I followed the trio of friends who pedaled past without stopping. I waved to the lake and thanked it for last year’s refuge and memories. A Finish Line Full of Feeling In the last 10 miles, the four of us scattered a bit. In my solitude, I remembered how last year at this point, Kaila and I were truly pushing our limits—but were still having fun. I caught up with Mack just before the small but fun section of mountain bike singletrack, and a second wind hit me. "We yelped and laughed with joy coasting through the winding path between trees, cheered each other on, and were in awe once again of the views as we crossed the wooden bridge over the Namekagon River." We rode side by side on the grassy double track for the last mile before the finish line, reminiscing about last year’s race and comparing it to this one. Seeing the finish line, we both pedaled harder and crossed it together. I didn’t even know our finishing time, but I felt a dam of emotional relief was about to break. Jocelyn was already there cheering and taking pictures. Soon after, Erin crossed the finish line and we were all cheering for her, taking pictures, and congratulating each other. "I realized I had shaved three hours off last year’s time—all thanks to the motivation of supportive people who cared more about the experience than the clock." After we parted ways, I stumbled off to find my slice of caramel apple crumble pie. The kind women of Tilly’s Pies asked if I had a slice waiting, and my emotional dam broke. One woman wrapped me in a hug while the other found my pie. I sat in the shade near the finish line, called my partner to tell him I’d finished, ate my pie, and found new friends to talk to. We shared stories and cheered on riders as they crossed the line. Live music played, people ate, talked, and relaxed. More Than a Race, It’s a Reminder The Hungry Bear is more than just a race. It has the flexibility to be whatever you make it. Ride for fun, slow down to enjoy the scenery, make new friends, ride faster, prove to yourself what you’re capable of, take pictures, cool off in the lake, or break goals. But most of all, make memories. Finish line This year’s race more than doubled in registration to over 1,000 people and attracted more serious racers. But I was happy to still see plenty of cyclists wearing jorts, sandals, or dragonflies on their helmets. As this race continues to grow, I hope the casual, fun vibes and kindness that bring this community together shine brightest. However you choose to participate next year, I hope that you ride your own race and make the experience whatever you want it to be. The heart of the Hungry Bear gravel race is the community. It doesn’t matter what you wear, what kind of bike you’re riding, who you are, or how good of an athlete you are. In the end, we’re all here to ride bikes, have fun, eat good food, be in nature, and feel part of something much bigger than just ourselves.

Cuyuna is a midwest singletrack paradise for mountain biking in the summer and fat biking in the winter. If you're looking to book a trip there, why not stay in a beautiful and unique cabin close to all the action? Here are 6 beautiful Cuyuna cabins surrounded by adventure to check out for your next trip. Time to start planning bike weekend getaways? Nestled in the heart of Minnesota’s Cuyuna Range, a bike paradise awaits those seeking adventure on two wheels. For those wanting to immerse themselves in this magical setting, these six impossibly beautiful cabins offer the perfect basecamp. Most of these can be booked on Airbnb or directly on their website. Whether you’re looking for cozy retreats or luxurious lodges, each cabin promises a memorable experience in one of Minnesota’s most breathtaking destinations. Birch Box Container This shipping container cabin features two bedrooms with queen beds, a bathroom with a walk-in shower, a small kitchenette, and a living area with large windows offering views of the surrounding forest. Amenities include a hot tub, fire pit, covered patio, and a Mississippi River overlook. The cabin also has a multifunctional office and laundry space. LEARN MORE . The Iron Owl This newly built 600 sq ft cabin, located 1 mile from the Cuyuna Lakes Trail and Crosby's historic downtown, offers views of 20+ acres of wetlands and wildlife. See our review of this cabin here . The cabin, designed by a husband and wife, features a queen bedroom on the main floor, a loft with a queen bed, a bathroom, kitchen, and a living area with a wood stove. Outside, guests can enjoy a pondside patio. The cabin is secluded and surrounded by white pines, offering privacy with occasional distant town sounds. It sleeps up to 4 people and shares the property with a second cabin. LEARN MORE . The Hilhaus Aframe This newly built A-frame cabin, located near downtown Crosby, offers a cozy retreat with a lower-level master bedroom, a loft bedroom, a kitchen, a dining room, and a living room with a fireplace. Outside, guests can enjoy a back deck, a fire pit area, a picnic table, and a bike shed. The cabin comes equipped with essentials like coffee, tea, board games, and books, along with upgraded Starlink Wi-Fi. It's well-suited for couples, families, or those looking for a fat biking getaway. Firewood and lawn games are also provided. LEARN MORE . Tiny House Luxury Getaway Another new addition to the Cuyuna area! This cozy 280 square foot, one-bedroom tiny house is a perfect getaway in Cuyuna Country. The location is incredible with the Sagamore Unit mountain bike trails and Hwy 128 trailhead only two miles away. With over two acres of privacy on a ridge that has frontage on Little Rabbit Lake. From inside the cabin you will have views of the woods. LEARN MORE . Cuyuna Cove Cuyuna Cove, located on the edge of Crosby, MN, offers vacation rental cabins with direct access to the Cuyuna Country State Recreation Area. This area features over 70 miles of mountain bike trails, gravel routes, and scenic lakes. The property, opened in 2020, provides a redwood sauna and encourages guests to disconnect, relax, and enjoy outdoor activities. The cabins are popular for romantic getaways and are situated near the historic mining town, offering a unique destination for year-round adventures. LEARN MORE . Tiny Pine-A The tiny 500 sq ft A-frame cabin, part of the Cuyuna Matata Cabins, is set on 8.5 acres overlooking the Pine River. Located 10 minutes from the Cuyuna State Recreation Area biking trails, it provides a peaceful nature getaway. The cabin, built in 2022, features a minimalist Scandinavian design with bright pine interiors. It sleeps up to 4 people, with a queen bed in the loft and a fold-down couch on the main floor. Guests can enjoy a cedar wood barrel sauna and use complimentary snowshoes in winter and kayaks in summer. LEARN MORE .

Gravel race directors from Wisconsin, Minnesota, and the U.P. share their favorite events outside the region. From epic endurance rides to community-driven weekends, these picks highlight the races worth traveling for—and the stories that make them unforgettable. One of the best parts of gravel is discovering new places to ride, especially the ones worth planning an entire road trip around. The kind of events that surprise you with killer courses, quirky traditions, and an atmosphere that makes you feel like a local, even if you're hundreds of miles from home. To help you find your next great adventure, we asked a handful of race directors from our region to name their favorite gravel events outside the Midwest. These are the rides they return to, talk about, and can’t stop thinking about. Keely Campbell Gravel Worlds - Nebraska Admittedly, I don't do many events outside the Midwest, but a few years ago I won an entry to Gravel Worlds on Instagram, and away I went! I absolutely loved the routes, which showcase Nebraska's best gravel. Additionally, it's a large event with an intimate feel, which is my personal sweet spot. I rode the maiden voyage of my new-to-me single-speed Surly Cross Check at this event, and it will always hold a special place in my heart. Marty Larson Mid South - Oklahoma It’s what inspires The Heywood to be what we do. The way Bobby and Crystal welcome everyone is just…something else. All walks of life, all shapes, all joy. The community that surrounds the Midsouth is simply outstanding. We’ve met simply outstanding folks down there, and get a chance to see them each year. It’s truly a family thing. The elite pros and lantern rougue are equally honored during the weekend. It is an elite race, but it’s clear that the every day rider is honored as participants as well. There’s nothing like a Bobby Hug to finish your ride. Chase Wark Rock Cobbler, Lyons Heart, Mid South, & Sea Otter There's not one correct for me here. If I'm just going off the vibes of the event, it has to be Mid South which is pretty much a bike festival weekend now. If it is based off the course, my favorite course is the Rock Cobbler. My favorite event expo is Lyons Heart since they have a sauna and cold plunge and Sea Otter since there's so many brands that go to that one. I can't really pick just one event and label it as my favorite though. Adam Klotz Spotted Horse Gravel - Iowa I was relatively new to the gravel scene and just looking for any event I could ride. October was closing in, and I needed one. Flipping through a publication not unlike The Nxrth, I spotted the Spotted Horse Gravel in Madison County, Iowa. Sure, why not? I told myself. At the time, I didn’t know what an “ultra” was. I didn’t know what it meant to ride a Sarah Cooper event. And I had certainly never spent more than eight hours in the saddle. In hindsight, those were probably pretty good reasons not to sign up. The night before the ride, I tested my kit in the hotel parking lot. I overheard a group of younger riders talking about how many ultras they’d done—that was the first time I’d heard the word. I knew the mileage, sure, but hearing it called an “ultra” made it real in a way that kept me up that night. Rollout was at 4 a.m., which meant leaving the hotel at 3. It was the earliest I’d ever been up for a bike ride. It was cold. And everyone around me had tires far wider than my skinny 32s (which, honestly, might’ve been 28s). I remember confidently thinking we only had a certain amount of elevation gain—until I passed that number well before the first checkpoint, with a long way still to go. I asked a volunteer about the discrepancy, and he just smiled and said, “It’s a Sarah Cooper event. What did you expect?” My legs still felt fine at that point, but after he said that, the ride suddenly felt harder. Around mile 100, after navigating some of the roughest minimum maintenance roads, dodging cows and windmills, I crashed hard at the bottom of a descent. My 28s finally met their match on Iowa’s class 5 gravel. I got up and kept riding, but my headlight didn’t—it broke off in the fall. It was late October. The sun went down early. No headlight. No moon. Just endless climbing and descending in the darkest dark I’ve ever experienced. No chance for my eyes to adjust. I was exhausted. All it would’ve taken was one phone call to race support to end the misery. But I never made the call. Twelve thousand feet of climbing. 155 miles. I finished. The Spotted Horse is my favorite gravel event outside of Wisconsin, Minnesota, and the U.P. Not just for the course, but because of what it pulled out of me—growth, grit, and a finish I’ll never forget. Trenton Raygor Gravel Worlds Long Voyage 300 - Nebraska Gravel Worlds Long Voyage 300 in Lincoln NE is a favorite of mine. Being a person who likes to ride bikes for a really long time, I really enjoy this event. The "Gravel Family" as they like to call it, including founders Cornbread and Jason, keep the positive vibes high. I like an overnighter and this tough course (especially the Iowa miles) really pushes the limits on the single speed. Shout out to the Flying J roller dogs on this one!

Some of the best days on gravel aren’t at races, they're the quiet escapes that stick with you. This guide to one-day gravel getaways highlights 12 standout routes across WI, MN, and the U.P. Each destination pairs a dialed-in gravel adventure with great local food, drinks, and post-ride recovery. Whether you’re chasing backroads through the Northwoods, grinding ridgelines in the Driftless, or taking in the Lake Superior shoreline, these routes are made for riders who want to explore new places and eat and drink well.

To contribute to The Nxrth, email us at info@thenxrth.com  . The Nxrth is built by the community it celebrates. Every story, route, and recommendation comes from riders who know and love this region. The ones who show up in the cold, find joy on backroads, and keep discovering new places worth sharing. This publication thrives on local knowledge, personal experiences, and the stories that connect us to the Northwoods and each other. We’d love to hear your story, whether it’s about a race you rode, a favorite gravel cluster, an unforgettable bikepacking trip, or a hidden trail system more people should know about. Your words help other riders discover new adventures, plan their next weekend away, and feel the same spark that keeps you rolling. Do You Have a Story You'd Like to Share? Your experiences help other riders discover new places, great events, and the spirit of adventure that makes our snow, dirt, and gravel community so special. An Event or Race You Did Did you ride in a local gravel, MTB, or fat bike race recently? Tell us what it was like from the vibe at the start line to your favorite stretch of the course. Other riders love hearing firsthand stories to get a feel for what each event is really like and decide where to line up next season. A Bikepacking Adventure You Went On Share the story of your latest bikepacking trip, where you went, how you packed, and what made it memorable. Whether it was a weekend escape or a weeklong epic, your story helps others discover new routes, plan their own adventures, and get inspired to roll out into the wild. A Great Destination You Want Others to Know About Have a favorite place to ride, stay, or hang out after a long day on the trail? Let others in on it. Maybe it’s an awesome gravel cluster of quiet backroads, a flowy MTB trail system, or a network of perfectly groomed winter fat bike trails. Readers love discovering new Northwoods gems, and your local knowledge helps fellow riders find great destinations, cabins, and communities to add to their radar. A Local Bike-Industry Business Profile Know a local bike shop, builder, or maker who’s doing something special? Share their story and why you think they stand out. It’s a great way to connect riders with the people who keep our community rolling and to celebrate the creativity, craftsmanship, and passion that make this region so unique. To contribute to The Nxrth, email us at info@thenxrth.com .

Betsy Welch spent five years covering gravel cycling from the inside with VeloNews & Outside Online. We chatted with Betsy to get her perspective on gravel’s evolution, from grassroots culture to global attention, and what it’s been like to step away just as the sport reaches new heights. It’s a look at how cycling grows, what stories get told, and what happens when the industry moves on. Follow along with Betsy on Instagram and her Substack . Before her role at VeloNews came to an unexpected end in February of 2025, Betsy Welch has become one of the most recognizable voices covering the gravel scene. For five years at VeloNews (and later Outside) Betsy Welch carved out a unique space in cycling media. She didn’t just report from the sidelines, she showed up on the start line. As gravel has been evolving from grassroots oddity to global discipline with pro contracts and prize purses, Betsy has been there, writing profiles, chasing storylines, and covering the culture as well as the competition. Her journalism brought humanity to a sport often defined by watts and results, reminding readers why gravel mattered in the first place. Sure, gravel culture has been around a while. Yes it's been surging for many years and getting itself into trouble long before Betsy Welch started covering it. But she was on the ground reporting before the Life Time Grand Prix , before the UCI did their number on formalizing the pointy end with the Gravel World Series , and before aero bars were banned, start waves were split, and five figure prize purses were normal. Earlier this spring, Betsy was part of a round of layoffs at Outside , just as gravel’s momentum continues to surge. Her departure reflects a shifting media landscape, but the kind of storytelling she’s known for still resonates deeply with riders, race directors, and the community that built gravel from the ground up. This isn’t a story about a journalist losing her job. It’s a story about a sport coming of age, and what that looks like through the eyes of someone who’s been embedded in it from the inside. This May, I got a chance to talk with Besty about her time at Outside and, and she shared a glimpse at how gravel has grown, shifted, and stretched, sometimes awkwardly, as it’s gone from underground curiosity to a sport with global attention. Reporting From the Saddle Unlike journalists covering the World Tour or other mainstream sports, Betsy didn’t just write from the sideline. Gravel, with its open fields and participatory nature, allowed her to be part of the stories she was telling. Whether pedaling next to an everyday riders or being the first to catch wind of Stephen Fitzerald's crew from Rodeo Labs racing Unbound 200 on beach cruisers , her reporting and inside scoop often came from shared miles. Being out there, not just observing but participating, gave Betsy a rare vantage point, to capture the present moment and to notice how the sport was changing. Covering Migration Gravel Race American Gravel, The Birth of International Growth Gravel didn’t follow a traditional path to becoming a competitive sport. It emerged from a mix of regional traditions, DIY ethos, and the appeal of long, unsupported and unsponsored efforts on remote roads. From her vantage point embedded in that world, Betsy watched as the discipline evolved. Slowly at first, then all at once. What began as a loosely organized network of community-driven events grew into something far more structured: training plans, race calendars, sponsorships, and increasingly, athletes building full-time careers around it. What stood out to her most was where it came from and how rarely that happens in cycling. “So rarely does cycling begin here in the states,” she said. “It sprung from the U.S., from the Midwest. And I think that’s such a cool origin story.” That distinctly American identity shaped everything from the types of roads to the attitude at the start line. As interest has grown overseas, international race organizers often looked to the U.S. not just for course inspiration, but for cultural cues as well. Even as gravel took hold internationally, Betsy saw that origin story carry weight. “If you ask any European race promoter right now, they’re going to say they’re modeling their races on U.S. gravel,” she said. And while the rise brought more attention, money, and structure, Betsy didn’t see it as the end of anything. If anything, she saw it as validation. “I do believe in that rising tide lifts all ships metaphor,” she said. “There are still grassroots races happening all around the country. If anything, they’ve been given more opportunity.” Soul vs Sport The evolution of elite gravel racing has brought undeniable changes to the sport. As more athletes commit full-time to gravel, backed by sponsors and structured race schedules, the front of the field has become faster, more specialized, and increasingly visible. That visibility, through media, livestreams, and social coverage, has pulled more focus toward the competitive side of gravel. It’s a shift that has sparked conversation, and at times tension, within the community about what gravel is and who it’s for. Betsy with Kasia Niewiadoma after Big Sugar Gravel To Betsy, it’s less a conflict and more a reflection of gravel’s growing complexity. “I just don’t believe it’s mutually exclusive. There can be a professional discipline and a grassroots sport,” she said. “They can all exist at the same time.” From her view, the rise of elite racing hasn’t erased gravel’s early culture, it’s just added another layer. Riders who want to chase podiums and points have a place. So do those who show up for the scenery, the community, or the challenge of finishing. Gravel may have grown up, but it hasn’t outgrown its range. What Gets Covered & What Gets Left Out Over the past few years, as gravel racing grew in both visibility and complexity, the scope of coverage grew with it. Betsy found herself balancing different kinds of stories: elite athlete profiles, mid-pack grinders, quirky one-offs, and everyday riders whose lives revolved around the bike in quieter but no less meaningful ways. Her editorial instinct was shaped as much by curiosity as by presence. Stories often surfaced not from press releases or podiums, but from conversations at aid stations or trailheads. There was pressure, too. As the competitive side of gravel gained momentum, so did the expectation to focus on results, rankings, and recognizable names. “I did feel increasingly pressured to keep covering all the aspects of it,” Betsy said. While Velo was historically a racing-focused outlet, she remained drawn to the full spectrum of experiences that define gravel, not just the fastest riders, but the ones with surprising backstories or a deep connection to the sport that had nothing to do with winning. What's Next for Betsy? Betsy’s recent layoff wasn’t entirely unexpected. She’d seen multiple rounds of cuts over her five years at VeloNews and Outside, and knew the volatility of both the media world and the bike industry. Still, stepping away from a role that had become a part of her identity left space, both creatively and personally, that she’s now figuring out how to fill. “I’m just trying to take some time,” she said. “I don’t feel a ton of urgency. I just feel a sense of wanting to step back and see what feels right.” Betsy continues to write, sometimes for brands, sometimes for regional outlets like The Colorado Sun , and sometimes simply to follow her own curiosity. She’s interested in telling cycling stories outside the traditional bubble, and in saying yes to work that wasn’t possible when she was tied to a full-time beat. Riding around Aspen, Colorado She’s not stepping away from storytelling, just finding new places to tell it. Whether inside the cycling world or beyond it, Betsy remains drawn to the kind of stories that linger longer than a headline. For now, she’s choosing to pause, listen, and ride without a deadline. After years of chasing race weekends and fast-moving news cycles, there’s a kind of freedom in letting the rhythm reset. And in a sport that still values the long way around, that might be exactly the right pace.

Solo bikepacking isn’t just about pedaling. It’s about detours, downed trees, and quiet moments by yourself or close friends. Rob on Bikes took on the Valhalla Beach Party bikepacking route alone, navigating mud-slick ATV trails, washed-out forest roads, and long stretches of sunbaked gravel. But in between the grit came solitude, waterfalls, campsite firewood stashes, and the kind of slow-down freedom you only get when there’s no one else to pace but yourself. Watch the full journey unfold, from sketchy bushwhacks to peaceful lakeshore mornings.

When gravel race directors pick favorites, it's not just about the course, it’s about community, tradition, challenge, and connection. Whether it’s the wild solitude of the Heck of the North, the family memories at Hungry Bear, or the quirky fun of Embark's Ramp Romp, these events represent the heart of what makes gravel riding so beloved: a little suffering, a lot of joy, and unforgettable experiences shared on two wheels. There’s no shortage of incredible gravel races up north, but which ones stand out to the people who actually organize them? We asked gravel race directors to name their personal favorites (not their own events, obvs) and tell us what makes them so unforgettable. From postcard registrations and deep-woods doubletrack to podium ceremonies and wild ramp pizza parties, the answers were pretty diverse. Here's what they had to say: Marty Larson Race Director of The Heywood Hard to decide between the Filthy 50 and Heck of the North ! They both share that late season glory of potentially epic weather, good or bad. And I’ve experienced both at both. It’s a coin toss between the two for me honestly. The locations for both have unmatched scenery and the roads each offer are outstanding. I think the remoteness that the Heck has may give it a slight edge. Those deep in the country atv lanes really live in my head rent free. Anne Schwarzwalder Race Director of Ridin’ Dirty Gravel Gray Duck Grit ! An awesome event to rip some gravel just south of Minneapolis. Last year included a cyclocross event as a pre-race prologue, which I support on the grounds of “a gravel bike is a cyclocross bike is a road bike is a mountain bike (if you’re careful!)”. GDG features routes from 50 to 333 miles, supported with chip timing and the best podium set up you’ll see in the area. Really makes the racers feel special. Highly recommend! Adam Klotz Racer Director of Kasners Kick Duchenne (KKD) Gravel While there are still many incredible local gravel events on my to-ride list—and I’ve yet to ride a gravel event I didn’t love—my current favorite is the Hungry Bear Gravel in Cable, WI. The Hungry Bear (specifically the Snacking Bear route) was one of the first gravel events my wife Nora and I rode together, and having just completed it for what I believe is our fifth year, it was once again absolutely splendid. The route, in my humble opinion, is near perfect: it opens with about ten miles of vehicle-free, tree-lined tarmac that gently spreads out the field. From there, it's thirty or so miles of scenic gravel, rollers, a lake or two, and deceptively tiring straights that lull you into thinking, 'I could do this all day.' And then you turn left, climb, and excitedly dread what is coming next—a ripping stretch of double track that leads into a brutal twelve-mile section of nonstop climbing (every year while cursing I mistakenly tell myself, 'this has to be the last one'). Finally, there’s a quick burst of singletrack, followed by a long wooded trail where the finish line looms in the distance, teasing you as you creep closer, sweat stinging your eyes, dreaming of pizza, beer, live music—and pie. Nora and I love this ride. It’s become a family tradition: we bring our kids and extended family to camp at the nearby KOA while we’re off playing bikes. It’s special, memorable, and just the right mix of challenge and charm. Put it on your list. You absolutely won’t regret it—until you have about nine miles to go. Chase Wark Race Director of Granny's Gravel Grinder, The Hotdish, The DAMN, Filthy 50 I think I have to go with Ragnorak . The event is really old school with registering with a postcard, using cue sheets, and having to be self sufficient. It's also an event that is in the driftless region which gives it a few bonus points. I also like the unpredictable weather that you get with it. I think if I were to attend Heywood, that one may top it, but that will have to wait till 2026. Keely Campbell Race Director of Ridin' Dirty Gravel I'm going out on a limb here and saying Embark's Ramp Romp . Ok, ok it's not a TRADITIONAL gravel event. But, there's beautiful Driftless Wisconsin gravel, camping, foraging, and pizza! Embark puts this event on each April when the wild ramps are POPPIN', and I can't say enough about the wonderful people and adventures this weekend brings. Trenton Raygor Race Director of The Filthy 50 (and formerly The DAMn) This one is a tie for me between Le Grand Du Nord and The Heywood . Le Grand Du Nord is a favorite because I LOVE the Kershaw family, Grand Marais MN, and riding in the north woods. It's good for the soul. On the flip-side, the community, inclusiveness, and positivity exuding from The Heywood out of Northfield MN is quite possibly unmatched. Marty, Michael, and Ben have the best hearts. I think folks should try out both of these events.

Photo: Gray Duck Grit

Compass Bike Lab opened in the Chippewa Valley in the spring of 2023 as a community hub for bike builds and service. With its clean, open layout and boutique approach, the shop has become known for high-end custom builds, meticulous detailing, and a focus on rider experience over retail sales. Rooted in community and driven by passion, Compass is redefining what a modern bike shop can look like. To learn more, visit Compass Bike Lab or follow along on Instagram . In just two years, Compass Bike Lab in Eau Claire has quietly shaken up what people expect from a bike shop. Owned and run by Adrian Ong, Compass isn’t your typical store stuffed with sale bins and overstocked racks. Instead, it’s clean, open, and purposefully minimal. Think: more gallery than garage. High-end bikes are displayed like art, every service begins with a deep clean, and community is baked into everything they do. Adrian, who also works full-time in real estate, opened Compass in April 2023 as a true passion project, not a side hustle or a business built around retail numbers. "We felt there was a void in the Chippewa Valley cycling market for a niche bike shop," he explains. "Something a little bit boutique that was focused primarily on service and repair." That vision struck a nerve. Today, the service queue is always full, and the shop has built a strong, loyal following that trusts them for everything from everyday tune-ups to dream bike builds. A Different Kind of Bike Shop Walking into Compass doesn’t feel like walking into a shop at all. It feels like entering a space designed for people who truly love bikes. That vibe is completely intentional. Adrian calls the aesthetic "minimalistic, almost sterile." The shop is bright, clean, and thoughtfully designed from the concrete floors and open concept to the memorable hexagon lighting overhead. Eventually, Adrian hopes the space evolves into something more lounge-like, maybe even with coffee or food. But there’s one big hurdle: "We have the room, we have the potential to expand. The issue is staffing, you can’t have mechanics pulling espresso shots between brake bleeds." Every Bike Gets the Same Treatment One of the first things that sets Compass apart is their commitment to cleanliness, literally. Every single bike gets a full detail before it hits the stand. "No other shop details bikes like we do," Adrian says. "We clean them first so our mechanics have a better experience and can actually see the issues." That philosophy came from a mentor, Sean Brandenburg at Shift Cyclery, who once told Adrian, "When you return a customer’s bike clean, they’ll notice that more than a perfectly indexed derailleur." Turns out, customers notice. Plenty of people now bring their bikes in just for a detailing. "Nothing’s wrong with the bike. They just want it clean," Adrian says. That unexpected demand has helped keep the shop humming through the off-season. Custom Builds for Different Types of Riders Custom builds are at the heart of what Compass does and they all begin with a conversation. "We listen and we don’t judge." Whether someone comes in with a dream build or a pile of mismatched part ideas, the Compass crew works to turn it into something personal and dialed. Each team member has their own specialty. Adrian handles race bikes and high-performance setups. Dustin, with decades of wrenching under his belt, is the go-to for steel frames and bikepacking rigs. Logan’s your guy for full-suspension and enduro builds. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses," Adrian says. "Every day is different, and that keeps it fun." Growth Without the Rush Even though the shop has grown fast, sometimes selling a bike a day in the spring, Adrian’s not chasing expansion for expansion’s sake. And Compass hasn't leaned on traditional advertising. Word-of-mouth has been more than enough. "We don’t have any aspirations to 2x in 2025," he says. "Then your passion project becomes a burden, and your teammates don’t want to be there anymore." Instead, they’re growing intentionally. One key step you might see in the future? Launching a new website where customers can order parts and accessories online. "We have access to more vendors than any shop in the Chippewa Valley," Adrian says. "But customers don’t know that yet." Service Over Sales From day one, Compass has focused more on service than sales, which can be a bit unique in the bike shop world. "Frankly speaking, because I sell real estate, I don’t sell bicycles," Adrian says. That decision isn’t just philosophical, it’s practical. With slim margins on parts, high shipping costs, and inventory headaches, selling bikes and parts doesn’t always add up for small shops. Instead, Compass leans into what they do best: awesome service and thoughtful builds and upgrades. Most of the bikes they carry are high-end demo models that riders can test, order, or use as inspiration for a fully custom build. Rooted in Community Through the growth of the last two years, the mission at Compass is community. Adrian and his business partner don’t take a paycheck from the shop. Instead, proceeds go back into supporting local Chippewa Valley cycling like Eau Claire Youth Cycling and Valley Girls Cycling. "Community is what keeps us going," Adrian says who also just started a weekly shop ride for anyone to join. In the end, Compass Bike Lab is more than a bike shop. It’s a place where people feel welcome, whether they’re building up a carbon race machine or rolling in on a vintage cruiser. "All bikes are equal as long as you have two wheels," Adrian says. "Everybody should be a cyclist. It makes the world a better place." To learn more, visit Compass Bike Lab  or follow along on Instagram .