Escape L.A. 2023: Three Takes from the Inaugural Event

Photos by David Tschan, Aaron McNaught, and others

Jesse Reeves

Clockwise: 2 days, 1 hour, 23 min

Perhaps it’s a distant affinity of my younger days/nights when it wasn’t uncommon to find me wandering some metropolitan streets in the middle of the night in a not-too-dissimilar state. The unknown aspect of being part of the first edition of Escape LA certainly appealed to me. Without the option to crunch all the numbers of the previous year’s Trackleaders replay, it was all a bit of an unknown aside from the GPS track and some much-appreciated insights from the organizers.

In my typical contrarian form, I decided that clockwise was the direction for me, knowing that the general consensus for most was to tackle the big mountains (San Gabriels) first, with fresh legs, by heading out counterclockwise. My decision was pretty quickly confirmed as correct for me, as I was singing out loud while bombing the descent down Yerba Buena Road, super tucked and just thriving.

Some of this joy was slowly stripped away while meandering along the Los Robles Trail. My front brake had given way at about mile 75, with fluid oozing out of the piston, and eventually, the lever was just there to occupy the habits of my left pointer finger. The headlight got kicked on at mile 95 after a quick re-supply in Thousand Oaks. Forward progress slowed, as expected with the darkness, but also as a result of some really slow terrain. The middle 50 miles of this route are sneaky, and I’d rate them up there as some of the hardest.

The creek crossings and canyons got colder, and at 4 a.m., I found myself crossing under I-5, with the temperature reading 36 degrees. My plan of catching a couple of hours of sleep in this zone was quickly shelved, although I did pull out the bivy for about 10 minutes to warm my hands, eat a soggy burger, and check the tracker. I knew I’d get my first high-five soon, as I’d be crossing paths with Matteo, leading the counterclockwise crew. After some commiseration and some trail teasers, we continued on.

• 
• 
• 

Santa Clarita was next up, and I pulled out the battery bank to top off the Garmin and InReach while I ran into the gas station. Restocked, and sorting out countless wrappers from random pockets, I was ready to roll out. As it turns out, my cache battery had joined my front brake on vacation, and so off to Starbucks I went. Thirty minutes got a few percentage points on the electronics. Thirty miles of really nice riding, trending upwards, with frequent stops to chat with the other riders. Topping out on Condor Peak, I made a solid push to get down the ludicrous 15-mile descent before sunset.

It was only about a mile into this descent that I decided that walking the steep bits wasn’t efficient because of only having a rear brake. Dribbling a bit of water into the lever’s bleed port every couple of hours made for a lot of howling and a bit of slowing. I found myself apologizing to the riders I was passing, not only for my obnoxious brake but also for the trail they found themselves walking their bikes up. It was only a few miles later that I got mine, in the form of Mt Lukens, a solid four-mile hike-a-bike with 4,000 feet of elevation gain.

• 
• 

More sneaky hard trails, with high consequences dropping off of Mt. Lowe, but with the backdrop of a million lights. I was riding the highs and lows but maintaining better than I ever had, and halfway through my second night with no sleep, I knew the end was in sight. A slight detour after I heard the jingle of my InReach tracker shouting for help, with 5% battery life. With the assistance of Jack (In The Box drive-thru), for another quick device charge, I was back on and flying! The pavement was a well-earned treat, as were the empty streets of Los Angeles in the pre-dawn hours, which gave way to Mulholland, a sunrise, and a pier.

Julie Kanagy

Counter-Clockwise: 3 days, 11 hours, 44 min

I live in a small town near Santa Cruz, California, which is definitely not Southern California. But I can drive 5-6 hours and get there. Over the past couple of years, I’ve gotten to know some of the SoCal bikepacking community. There is great camaraderie down there—people are badass yet funny and inclusive. I wasn’t planning on doing another event this year, as I’d already done a grueling 300-mile Tour de Los Padres and a grueling Oregon Timber Trail 300. I’m not sure what roped me in—the expensive parking or $12 cappuccinos? After completing a Kurt Refsnider training plan, there I was on the Santa Monica pier with a bunch of intrepid people excited to climb 44,000 feet in 300 miles on 45+ lb. mountain bikes. I felt right at home!

On the counter-clockwise route, we started up a long dirt climb up to Mulholland Dr. that shook out the field. Then, the ride through the city was oddly enjoyable. You actually “Escape L.A.” up a singletrack called Sam Merrill Trail. Here, I ran into a bunch of ride buddies, Drew, Wes, Ian G., and Mikey, and we slogged up the trail together until the heat got to me, and I had to drop back. Riding alone and listening to a campy LA-themed playlist, I ended up in the beautiful but suddenly chilly mountaintops of the San Gabriels.

With the city long behind, solitude was abundant, and my inner theme surfaced, which this time was, “Nothing good ever comes from haste.” I took time to do things safely, even if it meant riding back down a big hill for a missed critical water supply at Switzer. I had made too many rushed mistakes in bikepacking events—like on the AZTR 300, where I crash-landed my shoulder into a rock and had to call an ambulance. I think I’m finally chilling out, and it is counterintuitively making me better at these things. The day ended for me at around 10 p.m. after descending the gnarly Stone Canyon trail, mostly on foot.

• 
• 

• 
• 
• 

I started up the loose and ledgy Condor Peak trail at 3:50 a.m. It was absolutely beautiful, and shockingly, I did not die. It was somewhere at the top of this 17-mile, 6,000-foot climb that I ran into Jesse – leading the CW pack on no sleep! We agreed on how awesome our Epic Evos were, and I was worried when he said his front brake was out. After a long descent out of the San Gabriels, the route meanders past freeway exits and through open space surrounded by more freeways. I finally dropped into Porter Ranch, where I paid through the nose for a hotel room.

The next day, we had more fun, techy trails through Rocky Peak, Space Mountain, and Sycamore Canyon. That afternoon, I had reunited with Drew and Wes at the YMCA! We rode through a forest of blooming prickly pears, and I whacked into one and had to pick needles out of my leg. I also picked up some poison oak in a confusing creek canyon earlier. Ah, LA, where you can get cactus needles AND poison oak.

The final day was the beautiful Backbone trail with its cool sandstone formations. Drew and Wes and I caught up again, and we got to the top of Topanga sState Parkin the sunset, then hopped on the last Backbone Trail segment. It was SIIICK! It’s the smoothest, fastest singletrack you can imagine through a tunnel of greenery. I let them go so I wouldn’t crash so close to the finish, and I also was feeling sad that the fun was coming to an end. They waited for me for two minutes at the finish, then it was high fives, finish photos, and off to find beer! This turned out to be the most fun bikepacking “race” I’ve ever done!

• 
• 

Ian Thomas

Counter-Clockwise: 2 days, 12 hours, 34 minutes

What a route! I’ve never ridden something so urban yet so out there at the same time. Gregg and Jason did an outstanding job. While I was riding this I could really feel that thought had been put into every twist, turn, and climb (of which there are MANY). I just returned from a two-month tour in Europe, so fitness was feeling great despite recently starting an office job where my body feels like it’s being folded in half by my chair.

The CCW route starts with ~50 miles of LA city riding, through Griffith Park, the Hollywood sign (they put a word on the hill!), Universal Studios, and the LA River—the San Gabriel Mountains looming ever closer. That traffic had me doing things my mom would not approve of. As soon as I hit those mountains, I knew the fun was about to REALLY start…a nice 5,000-foot climb of part hiking, part riding, and all suffering. Great views, though! I ended up going back and forth with Collin and Austin Foxley on the next descent, as well as David Tschan (badass photographer).

I ended up riding with and near the leader Mateo until the summit of Mt. Lukens, where he absolutely took off on the descent. Descending Stone Canyon to Big Tujunga Creek had me puckered; I’ve never ridden a trail that had me dragging brake like that before. I just remember bushes on one side, two feet of trail (maybe), and then darkness. By that point, I felt like I hadn’t taken care of myself very well, so I spent a good amount of time eating and rehydrating at the creek.

I ended up catching up to everyone on the next climb, and I’m so glad I did, as that was the most heinous hike a bike I’ve ever done. It’s good to have some friends to suffer with! We ended up sleeping in a pit toilet at a USFS station partway down the descent that night, with Gregg and Aaron taking off early while I got an extra 30 minutes (five hours for the night). Cruised down to Carls Jr. in Santa Clarita, chowed down, stashed some burritos, blew up the toilet, brushed my teeth in the parking lot, and bounced.

• 
• 

• 
• 
• 

It felt so good to finally have the San Gabriels and those massive climbs behind me, but I knew that “death by a thousand cuts” was the name of the game for the next 170 miles. It was all intermittent city/trail riding from there until the coast, and to be honest, it’s all a blur of gas stations, massive roads, and techy climbs. I had blown past my previous biggest day of climbing in the first day, so my body and brain were just holding on.

On the second night, I saw a mountain lion scamper across my path, which jolted me awake for a few hours. That kept me going until I was done with the loop around Thousand Oaks, where I “slept” three hours next to a locked pit toilet. I got going and felt surprisingly good; there was only one big climb until the long rolling descent to the Pacific Coast. Spurred on by the thought of a trail mix breakfast on the beach, I kept on cruising. Little did I know, I had passed Mateo, Gregg, and Aaron in the night and was now in first for the counter-clockwise group!

My brother and parents started blowing up my phone with supportive texts, and I got a little competitive after that. The endless ups and downs and oppressive sun beating down made the Ridgeback Trail an absolute sufferfest. I’m sure it would be a blast in a different state, but at that point, I just wanted to be done. I pushed on into the dark, stumbling up climbs while shoving trail mix into my face. Suddenly, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of Santa Monica, I was done.

David was there with a high five and a camera, Roland offered up a shower, and my Uncle cooked up a delicious meal. That ride left me scratched up, sore, and beaten to hell, but I can’t wait for next year!

Learn more about the event at LABikepackingsucks.com & @labikepacakingsucks on IG.

Further Reading

Make sure to dig into these related articles for more info...

Please keep the conversation civil, constructive, and inclusive, or your comment will be removed.