How this showcase Inland Northwest bikepacking route became a regional draw.
By Justin Short
Cover photo courtesy of Justin Short
A few years back, a friend found an interesting bikepacking route out of Coeur d’Alene on the North Idaho Bikepacking page (Facebook? Web? Yellow? I didn’t ask). I was immediately intrigued because The Idaho Panhandle Ramble, or “PanRam” as we’ve come to call it, promised to scratch my “going places I’ve never been” itch in a big way. At 320 miles with 30,000+ feet of climbing, this ride is YUUUGE, but not so huge that we couldn’t knock it out over our three-day weekends that magically coincided in mid-July.
Our plan was to ride two big days and one easy day. There would be no easy day. When it was all said and done, my mind was blown. This thing needs to become a showcase bikepacking event for the Inland Northwest, I thought, so I tracked down and spoke with route designer Eric Deady and told him just that.
My first impression of PanRam was that a normal person would want to ride this route. Let me qualify that by saying that I meant a “special” kind of normal. I mean, there aren’t any cliffs to rock climb up with a loaded bike, or unrideable mountains of fist-sized boulders to stumble over for six hours, or even any river crossings teeming with alligators. However, you will be climbing 3,000 feet in the first 20 miles, mostly on rocky double track blown out by summer moto traffic.
The gravel is comparatively nice after that, but the elevation profile is off the hook all the way through, so you’ll want to be ready for that. I’m also referring to a normality that includes laying down and splashing about in every creek, pond, lake, or occasional horse trough to cool off. It also goes without saying that our “normal” PanRam candidate will be filtering water from streams and filling every bottle, and perhaps even pockets, with ice anytime that’s available… which isn’t often.
The inaugural PanRam grand depart was then organized and set for mid-July in 2023. Fifteen riders registered and eight actually showed up, which ain’t a bad turnout for this kind of thing when it’s blistering hot and people are having weddings and trips to “the lake” sprung on them. The weather was definitely hot for 2023, but this route is pretty forgiving with plentiful water sources, tree cover, and creek-dunking opportunities. I rode out the first 50 miles with my friends, camped for the night and rode home for work the next morning, wishing I could be out there for the whole shenanigan once again.
PanRam is not billed as an official race, but more of a bikepacking odyssey, so it’s not governed by the usual rules of unsupported ultra-distance bikepacking races, which prohibit receiving outside support of any kind. Nonetheless, you can count on a small handful of goofballs attempting to set the Fastest Known Time, or “FKT” as it’s called in bikepacking circles. The first person to do this was none other than John Stamstad who came out for an ITT (individual time trial). That’s what we call it when a rider makes an official run on a route outside of a grand depart event. And when John rides your route, it’s like having Babe Ruth play your baseball field. It gets noticed. One could say he’s been an influential figure in the ultra-endurance mountain biking world. Among other things too numerous to mention, he was the first person to race pace the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route from Canada to Mexico, basically turning the 2,700-mile Tour Divide into the Tour de France of the bikepacking world that it is now. He was also the first rider to solo a 24-hour mountain bike race when he entered a four-man team under four different iterations of his own name because he was told by the race organizers that soloing was too hard. (On a side note: I’m soloing the 24 Hours of Riverside MTB race this year, soooo thanks, John!)
I honestly don’t know if it was John’s influence that got PanRam listed as a featured route on bikepacking.com or if it was entirely Eric Deady’s efforts. Either way, the word is out and 75 riders signed up for the 2024 edition of PanRam, this time set for mid June to avoid the mid-summer heat. Of those 75 riders, 35 actually showed up for the grand depart. Once again, these are solid numbers, and there were riders from the west side of the Cascades, Montana, and British Columbia. I didn’t know everyone there, and that’s getting rare these days. Outside of the grand departs, there have been hundreds of riders who’ve experienced PanRam at this point.
So where does PanRam go, anyway? The route begins and ends at the moose by the lake. Which moose? Well, you had to do some hunting if you showed up at a moose statue on Lake Coeur d’Alene that didn’t have a bunch of bikepackers gathered around it. From there the route heads northeast with, as previously mentioned, some serious climbing. But the grade and gravel both mellow out significantly on the way to Magee Air Strip, as a lush green valley opens with Tepee Creek snaking through the meadow below. You can stop to relax in the AC at the Starbucks outside of TSA at the air strip, or at least that’s how we refer to the little wading pool in the creek under the bridge before the 8-mile climb up Spyglass Peak. It’s a charming spot for a break and highly recommended during the heat of the day.
Somewhere out there on a high exposed ridge, I caught a glimpse of Silver Mountain in the distance, just long enough to wonder if I had really seen it. And that’s something that really inspires me about traveling through these mountains: seeing prominent peeks from hither-to unexperienced perspectives. The route heads south over more mountains to the first resupply point in Pritchard where you can count on a huckleberry milkshake to get you over Dobson Pass into Wallace, Idaho, if you’re not stopping to camp. There’s also some excellent barbecue there, and you might not want to miss that.
In an official race, staying with a friend on the route is a big no-no, but PanRam, as we have said, is not a race, so I was free to crash with a couple riders at my friend Emma’s house in Wallace. I had joked with Eric about making Emma’s house a mandatory stopover for all riders on PanRam without telling Emma, but only half joking. That would really take this event up a notch.
After Wallace was Moon Pass, which had a huge landslide last year, requiring a re-route. There were a couple options, and I chose to ride over Mullan Pass, dipping into Montana to take the Route of the Hiawatha, which is always a delight. Farther down the dusty trail, there’s an opportunity to stop for ice cream at the fly-fishing shop in Avery. Say hi to owner Dan Mottern, he’s a rider and one hell of a runner, having participated in the Boston Marathon a good 10 times.
The route rolls out of Avery farther south, climbing through Fishhook Creek Canyon where tall craggy rock formations reach for the sky out of the densely green cedar groves that cover the steep canyon walls, offering a bit of comforting shade. The next segment over the Grandmother Mountain Wilderness Study Area is where I ran out of water in mid-July. There was a big surprise waiting for all of us in mid-June, though, in the form of a 12-mile snow traverse that took six hours to clear. My friend George and I dragged it at night, witnessing a moonrise that left us in rapturous spasms of awe that I will carry for the rest of my days. It’s a long way from there back to the moose with many more mountain vistas, and spectacular jaw-dropping moments, as well as the obligatory bushwhacking section called The Maze that always leaves folks wondering if they’ve lost their way. It got me thoroughly confused both times I’ve “ridden” it, and it definitely will again this year.
Eric Deady’s inspiration behind PanRam was to give riders the flavor of the remoteness of North Idaho with small town charm and easy resupply: “It’s a way to connect with friends and build memories, and discover yourself and the Idaho Panhandle along the route.”
PanRam is not an easy ride by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s definitely worth the effort, and there’s no reason not to con a friend into driving a sag wagon out to some of the prime camping spots along the way to lighten your load. The 2025 grand depart will begin on June 20. For more information go to lifeonbikes.com/panram-bikepacking-route-1 and we’ll see you Out There!
Out There Outdoors contributor Justin Short has ridden PanRam twice, if the article didn’t make that abundantly clear . . . but that’s not nearly as many times as he’s planning to ride it.
