02 de octubre, 2025

The Rift MTB Iceland: A Story of Tenacity, Partnership and Icelandic Magic

The Crash That Changed Everything

Three weeks before the start of The Rift MTB Iceland, I wasn’t on my bike, I was in the ER.

A freak accident had slammed me to the ground, misaligning my spine, breaking ribs, and leaving fluid around my heart where the handlebar struck my chest. Breathing was shallow and painful. Lying down was impossible. Every cough required a pillow pressed tightly against my ribs to avoid screaming in pain.

At that moment, the idea of racing five stages across Iceland seemed absurd. But somewhere in the back of my mind, it didn’t feel entirely impossible. I’ve faced setbacks before and I wasn’t ready to let this be the one that stopped me.

So I poured everything into recovery. With the help of Dynamic Athlete in Boulder, I built a treatment plan with a singular goal: reach the start line. Hours of bodywork, careful training and relentless focus slowly replaced fear with hope. Just a week before departure, I told my teammate Lauren: I’m in.

I wasn’t ready to ride at my best, but I was ready to show up.

A Race Almost Lost at the Airport

Before we could even think about pedaling, another test of patience arrived.

At the airport, I checked my AirTag to make sure my bike, the BMC Fourstroke 01 had made it onto the plane. It hadn’t. Through the window, I could see it sitting on the tarmac, abandoned, while airport staff laughed off my frantic waving.

What followed was 48 hours of chaos... forms, phone calls, emails and constant tracking on my AirTag as my bike sat motionless somewhere inside the airport. Minutes before the official transfer shuttle left for Akureyri, my bike finally arrived. Relief washed over me. The race was back on.

That small victory became a theme of the week: nothing came easily, but every hurdle made the eventual joy that much greater.

The Rift: More Than a Race

From the very first briefing, it was clear that The Rift MTB Iceland was more than just another stage race.

For a first-year event, the logistics were flawless. Airport pickups, hotel transfers, domestic flights and stage-to-stage shuttles all worked seamlessly. The organization was dialed, allowing racers to focus on what mattered: the ride.

And what a ride it was. The course was a love letter to Iceland, five stages of raw, wild beauty. Bike-park flow trails one day, sheep-forged ridge paths the next. Snowfields, river crossings, lava rock, fjords, bogs, fog, wind and rain. Each stage revealed a new side of the island and pushed us to new limits.

But what truly set this race apart was its spirit. It wasn’t just about speed; it was about grit, resilience and above all, teamwork.

Racing as a Duo

Racing as a Duo means staying within two minutes of your partner at all times. The clock only stops when both cross the finish line.

For Lauren and me, that format was perfect. We’re evenly matched, but more importantly, we complement each other. Where one dips, the other pulls. Where one falters, the other steps up.

From the very first stage, teamwork became the heart of our race. I was still nursing injuries, unable to push my bike uphill without pain. Lauren, an athlete with the heart of a gazelle, would summit climbs, jog back down, and push my bike up too. She carried us through those brutal stretches without hesitation.

Later in the week, when the terrain turned flatter and the wind became the enemy, I took the front, pulling us both through with steady, relentless power. We traded roles as the race unfolded and in that balance we found strength neither of us could have reached alone.

Stage by Stage

Stage 1 – Akureyri Flow Loop

We rolled out from the docks of Akureyri, nerves high but spirits higher. Through singletrack, gravel climbs and the flowy bike-park descents of Hlíðarfjall, something shifted in me. I stopped fixating on fear and started riding again.

We crossed the line hand in hand, winners of Stage 1 and leaders overall. More importantly, we proved to ourselves that we were here not just to complete, but to compete.

Stage 2 – Finding Our People

The second stage brought relentless climbing and cheering children lining the trails, hands outstretched for high-fives. It was impossible not to smile.

We began leapfrogging with other Duo teams, pushing each other harder, offering encouragement along the way. By the final headwind stretch, I was able to dig deep, take the front and drive us home. Another stage win and growing confidence.

Stage 3 – The Queen Stage

Nothing could have prepared us for Stage 3. Starting in Siglufjörður, the day unfolded with mist, glassy lakes and climbs into the clouds.

Then came the infamous hike-a-bike: an hour-long scramble up pitches so steep they barely qualified as trails. I struggled to breathe, ribs aching with every gasp, while Lauren carried both her bike and mine.

At the summit, we emerged above the clouds into blue skies and alpine lakes, a view so breathtaking it stopped us in our tracks. The descent was equally unforgiving: snowfields, loose rock, sketchy switchbacks. But we rode smart, stayed upright and crossed the finish line exhausted, awestruck and still in the lead.

Stage 4 – Metal and Momentum

This stage was pure power. Black lava fields, steaming vents, relentless wind. For once, the terrain played to my strengths. I became the engine, pulling us through the chaos while Lauren tucked into the draft.

We avoided the flats that took out other leaders, rode smart, and let loose on a muddy local trail called “Jaja Ding Dong.” Crossing the line in Húsavík, we celebrated not just another win, but the balance of our partnership, this time, I had carried the load.

Stage 5 – The Final Push

The last stage brought all the emotions, excitement to finish, sadness to say goodbye, and determination to give everything left in the tank.

We crossed fog-covered ridges, pushed through Iceland’s infamous bog mud (fast, springy, and hilarious to ride), and laughed our way through sketchy descents. The final kilometers were a blur of grit, wind, and pure joy.

Five stages. Five wins. One unforgettable adventure.

The Real Victory

Yes, we won. But the real victory wasn’t the podium or the jerseys. It was the partnership.

It was Lauren running back down climbs to carry my bike. It was me taking the front when the wind threatened to break us. It was the laughter in the middle of the bogs, the hand-in-hand finishes, the quiet check-ins when words weren’t needed.

This race wasn’t about overcoming injury or chasing glory. It was about showing up for each other every single day. About finding joy in the grind, grace in the struggle and strength in the partnership.

Forever Changed

The Rift MTB Iceland left us tired, sore and deeply grateful. It reminded us that resilience is built in the hardest moments, that teamwork multiplies strength and that sometimes the greatest rewards come not from medals, but from connection.