Last Updated: June 2026

Quick Take: I still ride. I still train. I still dream about future tours. But after completing a 366-mile ride along the Mississippi River at age 70, I realized something I had managed to avoid for decades: age has finally become part of the equation.

A few weeks ago, I finished a six-day bicycle tour along the Upper Mississippi River. It covered 366 miles and averaged about 61 miles per day. By any reasonable standard, I was happy with the ride. The scenery was beautiful, the weather mostly cooperated, and I enjoyed every day on the bike.

Yet when I got home, I found myself thinking about another tour. Back in 2020, when I was 64 years old, I rode from the northernmost point of Texas to the southernmost point of Texas. The trip covered 972 miles in July, and most days the temperatures were over 100 degrees. Several days stretched beyond 100 miles, and when the tour was over, I felt tired but still strong.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized something. I probably trained harder for the Mississippi River ride than I did for that Texas crossing. I rode consistently all year. I climbed hills. I spent time in the canyon. I lost weight. I paid attention to my fitness. In many ways, I arrived at the starting line in better condition than I did six years ago.

And yet the Mississippi River tour felt harder. Not because the route was harder. Not because the weather was worse. Not because I lacked experience. It felt harder because, for the first time, I could feel age changing the equation.

The Miles Weren't the Problem

For most of my life, recovery was something I took for granted. I would finish a long ride, eat dinner, get a good night's sleep, and wake up ready to do it again. During the Texas ride, I knocked out big mileages day after day without giving much thought to how I would feel the next morning.

This year was different. The miles themselves weren't the problem. I could still ride 60 or 70 miles. My heart and lungs were fine. The desire was certainly still there. What had changed was everything that happened after I got off the bike. The stiffness lingered longer. The soreness hung around longer. My neck, which has developed some age-related issues over the years, reminded me that it wasn't 40 anymore. Each morning required a little more recovery and a little more patience.

It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't some catastrophic decline. It was simply the realization that the body recovers differently at 70 than it does at 64. I know there are cyclists in their seventies and eighties doing incredible things. Some are still riding centuries every weekend. Some are riding across countries. Some are doing things I have never done. Good for them.

I've never tried to be one of the superhumans. I've always considered myself an ordinary guy who happened to fall in love with bicycles. What I've learned is that aging doesn't mean the adventure is over. It simply means you adjust the adventure to fit where you are in life. Maybe six years ago my sweet spot was 80-mile days. Today it might be 50 or 60-mile days. That's not giving up. That's adapting.

If you're interested in staying active as you age, you may also enjoy Cycling Over 60: Why It's Never Too Late to Ride Strong and Feel Young.

A Tour Is What You Make It

The older I get, the less interested I become in proving something to other people. I ride because I enjoy riding. I tour because I enjoy touring. If somebody else wants to judge how I do it, that's their business.

Years ago I pulled a trailer loaded with gear behind my bike. The extra weight made every hill harder and every headwind feel stronger. This year my son provided vehicle support on the Mississippi River trip, and honestly, I loved it. I rode a lighter bike, carried less gear, enjoyed the scenery more, and spent less time worrying about logistics and more time enjoying the experience.

Every now and then someone will suggest that isn't "real touring." I don't really care. A bicycle tour is whatever you decide it is. You don't need panniers. You don't need a trailer. You don't need to camp. You don't need to ride 1,000 miles. You don't need anyone else's approval. You simply need a bicycle, a destination, and the desire to see what's around the next bend in the road.

The Gear That Helps Me Keep Riding

As I've gotten older, I've become more focused on safety, hydration, and comfort than proving how tough I am. I never ride without a good cycling helmet and a comfortable pair of cycling gloves. They are basic pieces of equipment, but they make every ride safer and more comfortable.

Two of the tools I trust most for safety are my Garmin Varia rear radar and my Take A Look mirror. Together they help me stay aware of traffic approaching from behind, especially on rural roads.

Hydration has become more important as I've gotten older. I carry insulated water bottles whenever possible and often use Elete electrolyte concentrate during longer rides and tours, especially in the Texas heat.

I personally use every item linked above.

For more on cycling safety, check out Two Cycling Safety Tools I Trust at 70.

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Looking Ahead

In September I'll ride another organized event in the Dallas area. Next summer I'm already thinking about another tour. Originally I thought I would continue down the Mississippi River from where I left off. Lately, though, I've been drawn back toward the coast.

I love water. One possibility is starting in Pensacola, where I finished my Lubbock-to-Pensacola ride back in 2016, and then following the Gulf Coast before eventually working my way toward the Atlantic Ocean.

Will it be longer than 366 miles? Probably. Will I average 80-mile days? Probably not. I can see myself riding 50 to 55 miles a day, taking my time, enjoying the views, and actually appreciating the places I'm passing through. And honestly, that sounds pretty good.

At 70 years old, I finally understand that the goal isn't to ride exactly like I did six years ago. The goal is to keep riding, keep exploring, and keep planning the next adventure. The numbers on my bike computer may be changing, but the reason I ride hasn't changed at all.

As long as I can stay upright and keep turning the pedals, there will always be another tour waiting for me somewhere down the road.

If you'd like to read about how I rediscovered my love of touring after last year's failed trip, check out I Thought I Was Done With Solo Adventures. I Was Wrong.