How I roll – cycle touring four ways

Bikes for touring and bikepacking are among the most diverse of any cycling discipline. Racing bikes look similar because they have the same goal: win! That means convergent evolution.

Touring and bikepacking can be whatever you decide they are. If your bike will carry some luggage and take you where you want to go in relative comfort, it’s a valid option.

There are good reasons why the traditional British-style touring bike looks like it does, and it may be the best choice for the riding you have in mind. But the fact that there are far more touring and bikepacking trips made than there are such bikes sold tells you that a trad tourer is not a prerequisite.

Maybe you just want to use what you have? Maybe, like the four cyclists here, your priorities are different when it comes to comfort, convenience, terrain or versatility? Whatever your solution, here’s to diversity!

Andrew P Sykes

European-style tourer

When I first set off on a solo cycle tour, I did so on the bike that I was using for pottering around my local area – a Trek hybrid – attaching a rack to give me somewhere to hang the panniers. I wasn’t convinced I’d embrace the concept of travelling with a bike long term, so it was all minimal and cheap.

Fortunately, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience so I upgraded to a proper touring bike, a Ridgeback Panorama World. Over the next decade, as I gradually climbed the learning curve of cycle touring, I mucked around endlessly with the Ridgeback.

First to go was the drop handlebar, replaced by a much more comfortable butterfly bar. But that required a change of gear system so I could use mountain bike shifters, and the stem needed lengthening. Then there was the Brooks saddle, the pedals, the Marathon Plus tyres… I was soon cycling the two-wheeled equivalent of Trigger’s broom.

After three long European tours, culminating in my 2015 cycle from Tarifa in Spain to Nordkapp in Norway, I started to plan the purchase of a replacement bike. Come 2019, I knew exactly what I wanted. I was tempted by a custom build but in the end went for a Dutch Koga WorldTraveller Signature.

It’s semi-bespoke – that’s the Signature bit – and, with the excellent guidance of David Stainthorpe at Cyclesense in Tadcaster, I was able to select all the equipment that I wanted from the outset.

Flat handlebar, a Rohloff hub gear, carbon belt drive, front hub dynamo (with connected USB port and lights), rear wheel lock, hydraulic brakes, stands front and back and, of course, a Brooks saddle.

She (her name is Wanda, a bike called Wanda…) is my dream – albeit expensive – touring bicycle. Although we never made it to Japan in 2020 as planned, we have been happily exploring the UK and continental Europe ever since.

This included my 5,000km ‘Grand Tour’ around France, into the Alps and down the Rhine, but there have been lots of shorter escapades along the way: from Santander to Porto; a tour linking the four capital cities here at home; as well as travels in the Yorkshire Dales, along the Outer Hebrides, and most recently to Shetland and Orkney.

She’s a sturdy (that’s diplomatic for ‘heavy’) machine but so comfortable to ride, and the Rohloff-belt drive combination makes her – touch wood – almost maintenance free. The kit is carried in four Ortlieb panniers and the lightweight Hubba Hubba tent sits perfectly on the rear rack.

I did once toy with the idea of bikepacking, and even bought some bags. But for the very long tours, I required more storage space. As I now make podcasts and films for YouTube, I need somewhere for the technical kit (audio recorder, drone, GoPro, as well as a small iPad for editing and publishing content while en route).

That said, I can still see the attraction of heading off with only the essentials on a lightweight bike. Perhaps one day I will.

Susanna Thornton

Brompton tourer

I first bought a Brompton when I was travelling a lot between London and Manchester by bike and train to see my parents. Mum was ill, everything was stressful, and having to book a bike space on the train was an added hassle.

I was surprised by how nice a ride the Brompton was. I’d toured a lot on ‘normal’ bikes, and never imagined touring on my folder, but a few years later an old friend invited me to her 50th birthday party in the Netherlands.

I decided to ride to the party, camping overnight in Essex on the way. I thought I’d try using my Brompton so that I could bring the bike with me into my cabin.

I put my camping gear (and a party dress) into a holdall and strapped it to the rear rack. But whatever I did, the bag sagged and rubbed the wheel.

In desperation I grabbed a wooden spoon and jammed it under the bag as a support, then set off. And the whole thing worked. Essex was beautiful, and I realised that ‘bikepacking on a Brompton’ was a brilliant way to travel.

These days I use Ortlieb panniers: one on the rear rack, the other on the Brompton luggage block, clipped onto a steel frame my husband made.

The main drawback (of any small wheeler) is that it’s hopeless on loose gravel, and rough roads or cobbles are uncomfortable. But I just slow down. Every bike is a compromise, isn’t it?

The massive advantage of the setup is that it’s so easy to combine cycling with public transport. And I know that if things go wrong, I can just catch a bus or whatever. That was a massive help, especially when I was poorly myself a couple of years ago, having chemotherapy, but still keen to get out.

I also love how I can tuck the bike inside my tent at night. At hotels, I fold my bike up and bring it inside.

I do all sorts of journeys, from two-day local trips to 1,000km rides across Europe. I usually camp, often wild. I like using the bike to do journeys that I want to do anyway, like going to my friend’s party in Holland.

So I’m often cycling through places people don’t think of. I recently rode from London to the Isle of Sheppey, camped on the cliffs above the Thames, and watched the sunrise. Then I hopped on the train home.

Susanna was one of our 100 Women in Cycling in 2023.

Cass Gilbert

Off-road adventurer

Over the 30 years or so that I’ve toured, my travels have gravitated almost exclusively to routes that are off road rather than on. In part, this is simply because I love the sound and the feeling of tyres scrunching on dirt! But it’s also because roads are becoming busier the world over, and drivers are ever more distracted.

During this process, I’ve moved to larger-volume tyres, even if it’s at the expense of efficiency for those inevitable paved connections. The mindset they put me in means I’m always seeking to take the road less travelled.

And they enable me to stop and ride trails whenever I want. An example would be the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, which passes through all kinds of wonderful areas to ride singletrack.

When I first had the opportunity to ride a Jones LWB, I was pretty much smitten immediately. I’d never ridden a bike that was as capable on challenging, cross-country trails as it was comfortable for long, dirt-road days in the saddle. I’m so obsessed by Jones’s secret-sauce geometry that I now have two versions of the same model!

One is titanium and is my dream bike, while the other is a more affordable chrome-moly alternative that I leave in the UK for my yearly visits there. I run parts that favour durability and low running costs over weight saving.

As an example, I’m a fan of Shimano Deore drivetrains and steel Sunrace cassettes. My titanium build has a DT Swiss 350 rear hub, a SON 28 dynamo front hub teamed with a Sinewave Beacon V2, with Jones’s 50mm eyeletted and double-walled aluminium rims.

I use my Jones for all the touring I do, either shod with tubeless 29×3.25in Duro Crux tyres for more trail-orientated riding, like the Woods Rat Run, or 29×2.6in Vittoria Mezcals for mixed-terrain routes like the Torino Nice Rally that I rode last year.

There are some downsides to this fantastic bike, however. I don’t own a car, and big tyres with wide rims can be awkward on public transport, as the wheels often don’t fit in train hooks, while the length of this bike can be an issue too.

Also, Jones favours 150mm fat-bike spacing for the fork for increased strength, which means wheels are more expensive to build and a dynamo hub is extra pricy.

Generally, I team this setup with Tailfin’s Aeropack and some custom 3D-printed ‘truss struts’, which allow me to run Tailfin’s panniers on the truss fork without the need for an additional rack. This means I can drop all my luggage quickly for a light and lively day ride.

Because the dropper is externally routed, I can swap it for a rigid post and add a single-wheel Frances Cycles trailer for those days that I’m touring with my dog, Huesos, whom we found in Mexico where I currently live. I love this trailer. It’s handmade in Santa Cruz, California, and being car free, we use it for both shopping and touring.

Josh Reid

Bikepacker & adventurer racer

I make my living from filming my bikepacking trips, which means that, on top of everything else, I often carry a full-frame mirrorless camera and a bunch of lenses, a tripod, at least one action camera, a drone and, for longer trips, a laptop to edit while on the hoof.

On a trip back from China, I edited a film on my iPhone but I have now got used to a laptop.

For ultra-distance bikepacking races I’ll pack less camera kit, ditching the SLR and the drone. But on long-distance trips – I wintered in New Zealand – I need to have everything with me, including spare batteries, cables, adapters and the like. That adds up to a lot of extra weight.

When racing I still film, usually with my iPhone, which I hand hold, and an action camera, usually slung beneath my chin with a mouth grip. This grabs great footage of the handlebar and the trail ahead.

On this year’s Dales Divide I carried tools, a battery pack to charge my electronics and 27 Clif Bars, enough to power me along for 600km. For the first time in an ultra, I also carried my big camera. Despite knowing the ride would be 50 hours, I opted not to carry sleeping gear; I didn’t need to be comfortable.

On the New Zealand trip, I was riding with my girlfriend and I overpacked. It felt like I was carrying everything except a kitchen sink.

As well as a Restrap bikepacking setup – frame bag, top-tube bag, stem bag, bags for the fork cage, a saddlebag and a Jack the Rack pizza rack to carry a tripod and tent – I had Restrap panniers. All this space was easily filled.

On my racing setups, every item carried is evaluated for utility; there’s rarely any fat to trim. When touring, there’s inbuilt redundancy. On my four-month China trip I carried swimming trunks that I never used; public baths in Central Asia ban swimming costumes.

I’m not tied to any one bike style. I’ll ride MTB when the terrain requires it. But gravel bikes are best for most stuff. Any sections that would be best done on a mountain bike tend to be reasonably short. A mountain bike may offer more comfort because of suspension but gravel bikes can have that, too.

I’ve just built up a Giant Revolt X gravel bike for the Tour Divide in June 2025 – riding 2,745 miles from Banff in Canada to Antelope Wells in New Mexico – with a Fox front suspension fork with 40mm of travel and a Redshift suspension seatpost. In theory, I’ll be super comfortable all the way.

Depending on the ride, I might carry a bivvy for lightness or a small tent if the weather looks set to be rough. Alternatively, I may travel even lighter by opting to sleep in a bed – in a hotel, at a friend’s house or with a Warm Showers host. I like the juxtaposition of sleeping rough one night and somewhere posh the next.