This is a story of a bikepacking adventure that took Sydneysider Mike Israel high into the Snowy Mountains and challenged him to a degree he hadn't expected. Its outcome shows that even when you don’t achieve everything you set out to, you can still have one of the most meaningful experiences of your life.

Mike grew up in the Blue Mountains, so he's familiar with hill climbs. Even so, the gravel challenge, the NAT900, gave him more than he bargained for.

The NAT900 is an unsupported bike-packing route named after its creator, the legendary Australian bike packer Natalie Anderson. It took her two years to plan the gravel loop through the Snowy Mountains, starting and finishing in Jindabyne.

As Mike describes it, Natalie’s route is a 900-kilometre masterpiece with 20,000 metres of climbing. You can also take on the short version, which involves “just” 450 kilometres and a casual 10,000 metres of elevation gain.

Note that all photos accompanying this story were taken by Mike himself.

The “drop-and-run” method

Mike got his first proper bike in 2006 and has been a competitive cyclist for 20 years. He rode in the Tour of California as part of a masters team, has cycled solo across Europe, and won the 45- to 49-year-old age category in the 2013 WEMBO World Solo 24-Hour Mountain Bike Championship.

As the Director of Graveleur, every year Mike runs three popular gravel events: Thunderbolts Adventure, Clarkes Gambit, and Marys Mayhem.

All that is to say, Mike is no amateur when it comes to bike packing and backroad gravel riding.

Even so, when Mike heads for the bush, his wife (understandably) worries for him.

“Her anxiety spikes any time I utter the words ‘little cycling adventure',” he explained. As a result, Mike and his wife have come up with a method they call the “drop and run”, he told CycleHub.

“I float the idea and then sneak away while she processes it,” he said.

Conditions were worse than expected

For the NAT900, Mike was giving himself 7 days to cover the 900-kilometre route and return to the start and finish lines in Jindabyne.

He had planned his route and his camping spots, but underestimated how rugged and hot the trail would be in autumn.

“Some of the gradients were unridable, well over 20% and eroded,” he recounted. “I was on a 30-kilo loaded bike with camping gear and clothes for all weather conditions. It was the heaviest load I’ve ever carried.”

Before the trip, Mike had made the mistake of adding so many “just in case” items that his bike resembled a mobile pantry.

His mistake was driven home when Mike caught up to one of the other riders on the NAT900 trail that week, Paul Lester. Paul is also a veteran bike packer and has completed the 6,250-kilometre Terra Australis, another self-supporting event that traverses the entire eastern coast of Australia.

“Paul looked lean, fast, and frighteningly efficient,” said Mike. “Meanwhile, I was dragging a small apartment behind me. Eventually, I waved him on and collapsed into some shade to force down calories.”

One of Mike’s bottles had bounced out of its cage and taken with it one-third of his water. The shortage and the day’s exceptional heat were making it impossible for him to stay hydrated.

“It was oppressively hot, and soon I couldn’t even produce enough saliva to eat,” he said. “I knew I had to, but I just couldn’t get food down,” Mike said.

About the only food Mike could keep down was candy snakes. But the dry cookies, chocolate-coated nuts, and even freeze-dried meals were completely unpalatable.

“I would cook and just think, ‘I can’t eat this,’” Mike said.

By the end of the first day, Mike knew he wasn’t going to be able to make the distance he needed to.

Mechanical troubles spelled disaster

His bicycle was also giving Mike trouble. The rear derailleur kept dropping out, requiring him to stop on the trail to replace it, then jiggle the battery. He had to work on it four times on the first day. On its own, the mechanical problem would have been trip-ending, given his heavy load and the steep gradients.

On the second day, there was a four-hour period during which he covered only 20 kilometres, hiking his bike along a trail that was no more than a scratch in the ground.

“There were times where I could barely even push the bike up the hill,” said Mike, “but I made it to the 2,000-metre summit.” The landscape there was stark and beautiful. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and black clouds circled. In Mike’s raw state, he found it wild and unforgettable.

Mike explained that hardcore bike packing can bring you to extreme emotional lows, but then you turn a corner and all your problems disappear.

Summiting on the second day was a definite turning point. “The descent from there was a huge reward,” said Mike.

“The bike felt good, the temperature was dropping as evening came on, and I got to a nice river at about 7 PM, where I had a swim and tried to get some food in. I felt good at that point.”

Cutting it short sparked an unexpected sense of accomplishment

Despite the joy of the long descent, Mike made the only realistic choice he could at about 11 PM on his second day.

“I could either complete the whole course with a malfunctioning derailleur or take a 100-kilometre shortcut and head for the finish,” he said.

His unreliable bike, dehydration, stomach issues, and wish not to over-impose on his wife all weighed on his mind. He decided to cut his losses and head for home.

“On day three, I got up before sunrise, cooked oatmeal for breakfast, and packed up my bag. I made the oats quite watery, so I could get them down, and looked around as the sun was rising over the mountains. The birds were singing, and I could hear the river bubbling.”

Mike decided the rest of the ride would be for pure pleasure.

He took the time to bathe in a cold stream as the sky above lit up with pink and orange. “It was pure magic,” he said. Mike felt some disappointment about not being able to finish the ride, but knew he had made the right call.

The final day’s ride

On his third and final day, Mike made the iconic climb from the Tom Groggin camping area up to Dead Horse Gap.

This is one of Australia’s toughest road-cycling ascents. With 18 kilometres of distance and more than 1,000 metres of elevation gain, there is some compensation for the steep gradients in the stunning alpine forest scenery.

From the Gap, he rolled down to Thredbo.

“Eggs on sourdough, avocado, and a strawberry milkshake revived me,” he remembers. Feeling fresh, he rode the single-track Thredbo Valley Trail down to Jindabyne.

Mike later found out that cutting his ride short saved him from running into some of the worst weather imaginable for this time of year on the parts of the NAT900 route he skipped. Other riders on the trail ran into subzero temperatures and 30 centimetres of snow. They had to take refuge in a mountain hut for over 24 hours.

“In that sense, I definitely dodged a bullet,” Mike said.

Three lessons for aspiring bike packers

Mike is a seasoned bikepacker, but he still learned three important lessons on this trip.

First, strap your bottles in. His lost water bottle contributed to his dehydration and was a major factor in shortening his adventure.

Second, food is heavy, and you probably won't eat as much as you think you will, so don't oversupply yourself. On prior trips, Mike has run short of food, but this time he carried too much.

Finally, on a route like the NAT900 that includes rough terrain and long hike-a-bike sections where you're pushing your bike over rocks, he'd go for bigger wheels.

On this trip, Mike took 650b rims with smaller wheel diameters. They gave him a lower centre of gravity and easier handling. But he struggled to push them over big rocks, and the wide tyres caught on the rough ground. If he attempts the Nat 900 again, he'll take 700c wheels. Being bigger, they roll over obstacles more easily.

What's next for Mike?

When asked what challenge he plans next, Mike said he plans to do more gravel riding and bike packing. He loves gravel riding because it combines the best of road riding and mountain biking.

“It takes you to beautiful places, and you get to see, hear and smell the country as you ride through it. So gravel is social and less competitive, but you can still ride hard.”

In his garage, Mike has seven bikes, including a road bike, a hardtail mountain bike, a long-travel mountain bike, a cyclocross bike, a gravel bike, a fat-tyre bike, and another road bike for the Wahoo indoor trainer.

“My favourite is the Wondercross Wanderer, which I took on this journey. It’s a modern titanium frame design and is a weapon. I use it for community rides, cyclocross, gravel rides, and bunch rides. I just love it.”

302.83 kilometres and three days of pain and joy

Mike was content with his decision to cut the ride short, and once he did, he was able to enjoy it in a way he hadn’t been.

“For me, it was about getting away from all the worries of the world and being in nature with only one purpose and one goal,” Mike told CycleHub, “to enjoy the outdoors and marvel at this beautiful home that we call Earth.”

In the end, he covered 302.83 kilometres during 26 hours and 23 minutes of riding time. Check out his ride on Strava. And to learn more about the rides Mike runs visit the Graveleur website

If you want to try the NAT900 yourself, apply to join the NAT900 Facebook group.

CycleHub thanks Mike for sharing his story with us. If you know someone with a great cycling story, let us know at inbox@cyclehub.com.au.