When a Bicycle Tour Ends Before It Begins — And How I Still Finished the Year Strong
Last updated February 2026
A fluke accident ended my bicycle tour just 34 miles in. Instead of quitting, I adjusted the plan, changed how I trained, and finished the year stronger than I started it. This is what adaptation actually looks like on the bike — and why setbacks don’t have to define the season.
Last summer, I was riding high on anticipation.
I had trained for a full year to complete a self-supported bicycle tour from San Diego to Las Cruces, New Mexico. It was meant to be the next-to-last chapter in my coast-to-coast cycling journey — one more long stretch of road before the final piece fell into place.
Thirty-four miles into the ride, it was over.
A microfiber towel caught in my derailleur. A fluke. One of those things you never plan for and still struggle to explain afterward. The bike was destroyed, and the tour I had spent a year preparing for ended before it ever truly began.
That part hurt more than the crash itself.
I had logged over 6,500 training miles. I had dialed in gear, planned routes, and driven more than 1,100 miles just to reach the starting line. Mentally and physically, I felt ready — and then, suddenly, there was no road ahead.
At first, the disappointment was hard to swallow.
But cycling has taught me something over the years: you keep pedaling — even when the plan disappears.
Rethinking the Road Ahead
I knew pretty quickly that I wasn’t going to let a broken derailleur break my spirit.
If long, solo touring was off the table, I needed a new direction. Instead of unsupported rides, I shifted my focus to organized single-day and multi-day events — rides with support, structure, and a shared sense of purpose.
It wasn’t the path I had originally envisioned, but it was still a path forward.
That’s when I turned to ChatGPT — not for motivation, but for structure.
The Back-and-Forth That Built a Plan
What started as a simple question — “Can you help me rework my training schedule?” — turned into a surprisingly collaborative process.
Over several conversations, I laid everything out: my new goals, how I actually like to train, and the events I wanted to target.
- July 26 – Buffalo Gap (31 miles)
- August 23 – Hotter’N Hell (50 miles)
- October 26 – A hilly redemption ride in Albuquerque (47 miles)
I explained my non-negotiables:
- Six days of riding, one day off
- Minimal off-bike work (planks at most)
- No more than one canyon day per week
- Fridays off due to travel
We adjusted for a July vacation, gym-based riding while my bike was in the shop, and the reality that I wasn’t chasing speed — I was chasing consistency.
Eventually, we landed on a plan that didn’t just look good on paper. It fit my life. And that made all the difference.
Turning Plans Into a Calendar
Then came the part I didn’t expect.
The entire training plan was turned into a CSV file that I imported directly into Google Calendar. Every ride. Every rest day. Every event. All color-coded and sitting right there on my phone.
No guessing. No mental math. No “what should I do today?”
Just ride the day that was scheduled — and trust the process.
That structure carried me through the rest of the year.
From Setback to a Strong Finish
Here’s the part that matters most, looking back now.
The year ended successfully.
I rode the rides I said I would. I followed the training. I showed up — even on the days when motivation was thin and the legs felt heavy. The fear from the accident slowly faded, replaced by confidence earned one ride at a time.
The Albuquerque ride — the one I thought of as my climbing redemption — was hard, honest, and exactly what I needed. Not because it proved anything to anyone else, but because it reminded me that setbacks don’t get the final word unless you let them.
I’m not turning this story into a gear review, but there’s one piece of equipment that made a real difference for me after the crash. Feeling aware of what’s happening behind you matters — especially when rebuilding confidence.
Garmin Varia Rearview Radar — This has become one of my non-negotiables. It alerts me to approaching vehicles long before I hear them, which reduces surprise, stress, and mental fatigue. I don’t feel less aware — I feel more in control.
See the Garmin Varia I use on Amazon
Where I Am Now: 2026 and New Goals
Now it’s the beginning of 2026, and I’m training again — this time with clarity instead of urgency.
At one point, I thought I might ride RAGBRAI, the bicycle ride across Iowa. But I’ve come to accept something about myself: I’m a solo cyclist at heart. Large crowds drain me more than they energize me.
Instead, I’m looking forward to Oklahoma Freewheel, June 11–14. This year they’re calling it Ride the Clover — four days based out of Stroud, Oklahoma, with a different route each day. That sounds like my kind of riding.
After that, I may do the MS150 from Midland–Odessa to Lubbock, along with a few single-day events sprinkled in.
Nothing flashy. Nothing forced.
Just honest miles, clear goals, and the quiet satisfaction of knowing that even when the road changes under your tires, you can adapt, adjust, and ride on.
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