Category Archives: Hospitality

Guides Jason Harding and Sonja Schmidt recently took over the Trek Travel Instagram account to share their perspective of Puglia, Italy. “Puglia is such an incredible place to visit. Sonja and I were able to dive into the region a bit more this spring and can’t believe that it’s already over. Looking back on the last month and a half makes us want to find ourselves back here in the fall,” said Jason.

Follow their adventures on Instagram @jasonhardingmt and @sonjaschmidt.

When I got on the plane to Italy in October 2006 for our Trek Travel Tuscany trip, I knew nothing about the van. A week later, the van was to become one of my favorite things about a Trek Travel trip.

Words by Deb Dingwall, Trek Travel Guest

We landed in Florence and spent the next couple of days exploring the city before hopping on a bus and heading out to the Tuscan countryside with our fellow Trek Travel guests. What I remember most about that first day was standing astride my bike in the Val d’Orcia, gazing up at the lovely hilltop town of Pienza, and thinking, “How beautiful but what the hell have I gotten myself into?” You need to understand that I grew up in Lincoln, Nebraska (Go Big Red!) and was very comfortable with a relatively flat landscape of the Midwest. And while I had spent plenty of time skiing in Colorado as I was growing up, that was downhill. Grudgingly, I clipped in and started to slowly ascend towards the town, my husband Adam alongside me.
 
 

 
 
Our Trek Travel guide, Dave Edwards, rode up next to us and noticed I was struggling. “Just put it in your easiest gear and pedal slowly” he said. I wasn’t about to break out my, “Don’t tell me what to do” attitude at this early in the game, so I did as Dave suggested and Adam and I made our way up to the town. From the walls of Pienza we gazed across the valley and a shot of reality hit me, each and every town seemed to be at the top of a hill. From our vantage point we could see enough hilltop towns to make my heart sink a bit, and I wondered how the rest of the trip was going to be. I was very convinced I would never let Adam talk me into another one of these vacations.

That night we enjoy an amazing Italian four-course feast with plenty of wine. Dave stopped by our table during dinner to ask how the first day went. Admittedly I was a bit down, and I told him the elevation for the rest of the week looked daunting as it wasn’t quite what I had expected. “Simple,” Dave said, “there’s always the van. You don’t want to ride up the hill, just let us know and we’ll boost you to the top in the van. It’s your vacation.”

“There’s always the van” became my new mantra, and one that I’ve shared in numerous conversations about Trek Travel. It is my vacation and if part of what I want on vacation is relief from some of the cycling challenges that are an awesome part of every Trek trip, I’m allowed to jump in the van. I’ve been known to do that for a boost up a steep hill, a rest after lunch for a bit, or at the beginning of the day if I’m not quite feeling up to the start.
 
 

 
 
I’ve boosted up climbs in Tuscany, France, Vermont, California, Oregon, and the San Juan Islands just to name a few. My reluctance about that first climb up to Pienza disappeared with the realization that the van was there to enhance my, and any Trek Travel guest’s, experience.

Adam did talk me into another trip, and another, and another. This July we will take our 11th trip with Trek Travel, this time to the California Wine Country. I’ve grown to enjoy the riding–and even the climbing–so much more than I did on that first trip. But ever since my childhood days skiing in Colorado, the downhills have always been, and always will be, a love of mine. And if you ever have the chance to descend into Bend off of Mount Bachelor, do it.

A Trek Travel vacation is so much more than cycling. It’s food and wine, conversation and amazing scenery. It’s the bike and the guides. And sometimes, it’s the van.
 
 

 
 

“You know it’s summer in Ireland when the rain gets warmer.”
– Hal Roach

We all know the feeling: putting on your kit with a wary eye on dark, distant clouds. But it’s my only day to ride this weekend. You take the gamble, gear up, feel like a champ as you roll down the block, and by the time you hit the stop sign? Fat, cold drops pelting your face and blurring your glasses. You pull on the rain jacket–because you made it this far–and suffer through your Sunday loop as mother nature gradually soaks your shoes, freezes your fingertips, sends trickles down your scalp and, my personal favorite, slaps a thick streak of road grime straight up your spine.

Or maybe instead you make a second cup of coffee and hit the garage to detail your drivetrain. Preparation for the next sunny day.

I’ve travelled with many tough, hard-working friends, guests, and even fellow guides who often seem to maintain the belief that rain and riding are highly incompatible. In a community of cyclists, where persevering through a good struggle is in our blood, I’m not sure how or why this rain aversion is quite so prevalent. We’ll ride up mountains, into fierce headwinds and through suffocating heat. And yet in my experience, rain seems to have a particular power to fizzle our spirits and drain our motivation to get in the saddle.

Of course, this isn’t to suggest an absence of legitimate safety considerations around wet-weather riding, and I’ll touch on those later on. I would also never claim that everyone is rain-phobic, as I’ve been pulled and inspired through many a soggy ride by the warmth and grit of my companions. Finally, I must state with greatest sincerity, we at Trek Travel embrace and celebrate all types of relationships with cycling. I can’t speak for your buddies back home, but I can assure you that your guides will never hassle over the decision to call it a shuttle and a hot cup of tea. When it comes to relaxing, we consider ourselves hard-earned professionals.

But when it comes to getting out in the elements, do we ever sell ourselves short? Are we sometimes missing out? As we enter the early, rainy spring cycling season I’m here to argue that sometimes we do, and so maybe, sometimes, we are.

It may be unsurprising to hear that I’ve spent the previous two summer seasons guiding our Ireland Explorer trip. This wasn’t because I love the rain (I actually grew up in the notoriously sunny Bend, Oregon). Rather, the experience and effects of this rainy exposure surprised me. Far from leaving me with post-torrential-downpour stress disorder, I believe that being forced to ride in rainy conditions for months at a time actually fostered a depth of connection, fondness of memory, and warmth of respect for the Irish landscape that is unparalleled among my cycling and travel experiences. That, and a passionate disregard for weather forecasts. And while perhaps not everyone would share my unique response to this particular rainy experience, I do believe there are some far-reaching and fairly universal truths to be had when it comes to the pleasures and rewards of overcoming a little natural challenge.
 
 

 
 
In fact, I think nature is a good place to start, with a quote from Victorian naturalist, artist and philanthropist John Ruskin: “Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.”

Living modern, often urban and highly specialized lives, it’s easy to overlook the beauty in something so essential and life-giving as rain. Without an immediate, personal connection to its importance for the landscape, we relegate it to an inconvenience on our commute, something to be stared at through windows, and the spoiler of afternoon rides. But isn’t one of the great joys of cycling the opportunity to experience a landscape at a slower and more intimate pace? Certainly a huge reason to cycle new destinations is to explore and become acquainted with a new landscape.

To make an analogy, getting to know a place can be a lot like getting to know a person. Just as love and friendship grow deeper with time and experiences, riding in diverse weather acquaints us with the multi-faceted personality of a place. A rainy day brings out different colors in the sky, and not just different shades of gray, but purples and blues and pinks, or, in the case of Ireland, the green reflection of fields below. Filtered through a kaleidoscope of clouds, the light transforms even a familiar landscape into something completely fresh for discovery. Different colors, different moods, and my personal favorite, so many different smells! Always that sweet, familiar one, and then the tangle of unique, subtle contributions from the local flora and fauna.
 
 

 
 
But what about those days when the sky really actually is just gray? Or maybe it’s just that your feet are soaked, you’re riding into a headwind, and you couldn’t possibly care less about the yin and yang of Mother Nature? One word: rockstar.

We need the rain to provide a tough environment in which to feel totally and completely hardcore. It always feel good to get out on the bike–bluebird days included–but there’s something unique and necessary about a rainstorm to make you feel like the ninja you are. That extra something earning you respect from the locals.
 
 

 
 
In fact, perhaps the power of contrast forms half the picture here, for consider now the ride in which the sky was actually gray, your feet were actually wet, and you felt slow, pathetic, and the opposite of ninja the entire time. In that case, how great does it feel to get home?! How much more delicious is your lunch? How much tastier is a beer at the end of the day, knowing you earned it? How much better is your entire day in general? It’s a level above. It’s not even a fair comparison. Perhaps my great love for Ireland actually has less to do with the rides themselves, and has mostly to do with the incredible joy and comfort to be found in returning from the elements for a scone and a cuppa. There are joys born of contrast that simply can’t be achieved in any other way. So capitalize on your mind’s incredible ability to quickly exclude discomfort from memory and reap the benefits of even a short excursion.
 
 

 
 
Easier said than done, right? So here are a few motivational ideas that might get you out the door. Whenever I feel my motivation starting down a slippery slope, the words of my great cycling mentor often spin through my mind: “There’s no such thing as bad weather! Just improper dress!” After all, you can float through space or the depths of the ocean if you’re in the right clothes. We have Gore-tex, Hipora, Hy-vent, E-vent, EtaProof, Nikwax’s fur-Analogy, MemBrain, Polartec, PreCip, and, you guessed it, H2No.
 
 

 
 
If high-performance fabric isn’t enough to stir your desire to ride, another motivational tactic proved itself many times in Ireland.
Step One: Put on your riding clothes. If necessary, remind yourself that you’re not actually planning to ride.
Step Two: Throw back a shot of the roughest Irish whiskey you can find.
Step Three: Fake it till you make it.
Step Four: You’re probably already on your bike.
 
 

 
 
On that note, this is probably a good moment to quickly touch on safety practices. A lot has been written about wet-weather cycling, so instead of doubling the length of this article, I recommend a quick Google search. The top ten hits will cover just about every tip you need, including those about dressing for success in variable conditions. Remember that staying warm and comfortable can be as important for your safety as it is for your enjoyment of the ride!

I mentioned I dislike weather forecasts. This isn’t because I think they’re always wrong, as often they’re painfully accurate. The issue is how our lives are increasingly saturated by an overwhelming amount of information. Weather forecasts, of course, and also news reports, Facebook messages, calendar reminders, new downloads, blog posts, event invites, app updates, music releases, advertisements, and millions of other digital rabbit holes all happily guzzling our precious time and attention. It’s a tricky line to walk, that between the real benefits of the information age on one hand, and the potentially paralyzing mental inundation it creates on the other. Sometimes the little rectangle in my pocket feels like a ten-ton ball-and-chain.
 
 

 
 
If nothing else, to set out into the rain is an act of reclamation. It’s an invitation for something unknown and unpredictable. Something that isn’t governed by an algorithm. It’s a celebration of our own spontaneity, in the face of minute-by-minute radar predictions available at our fingertips. It’s an acknowledgement that our physical experiences still really matter. In the rainy air, we can see the cloud of our own laugh, feel the water drip off our faces, and notice the enormous amount of heat our bodies generate against the cool, damp air. And above all, it’s an act of trusting ourselves. Trusting our ability to dress and plan and prepare. Trusting our own positive spirit. Trusting that we’ll figure things out if we run into a problem. Trusting that we know how to go out and be in the world and its many conditions, instead of hiding in our homes.

If it looks like the apocalypse has come, please do check for flash-flood warnings. But don’t obsess over that 30% chance of showers. Don’t scrutinize the radar images. Pull on your booties and high-vis slicker, put your cell phone in a baggy, give yourself a pep talk, and go do yourself a huge favor.
 
 

 
 
LEARN MORE ABOUT OUR IRELAND BIKE TOUR»

A travel enthusiast with a passion for the outdoors, Codie Richards has traveled extensively throughout the United States, Africa and the Caribbean. Determined to work in a field that would fuel her passion, Codie recently joined Elm Grove Travel in May 2014. This year she will be joining us in Zion as she continues exploring the world.

1.Tell us a bit about your background. What made you want to become a travel agent?
I have had a passion for traveling for as long as I can remember. To me, it is so important to learn about the various areas of the world as well as the different cultures within those areas. I was excited to find a job that allows me to encourage others to break out of their comfort zone and see what the world holds outside of their hometown.

What’s the most rewarding part about your job?
The most rewarding part of my job is when a client returns from a trip and tells me about their life changing travel experience. In that moment, I feel so grateful that I was able to assist in the planning of that experience.

Favorite place you’ve ever traveled and what excites you most about this part of the world?
The toughest question of all! I have so many favorite areas, but one of the best is Cape Town, South Africa. It is an area packed full of history and culture. It is such a diverse area with city, mountains and ocean. Really has something for everyone. I love going to areas where I can learn something new, and I left Cape Town knowing so much more than when I first arrived.
 
 

 
 
What are the five must-do’s while traveling in Cape Town?
When you go to Cape Town, you must hike up Lion’s Head in the evening and watch the sunset from the top! You should also go to Robben Island, visit one of the many incredible wineries, go on a safari, and hike to the top of Table Mountain.

Tell us about your craziest travel adventure.
I took a travel course in Costa Rica, and we stayed in a biological station in the rain forest. We were in the company of howler monkeys, cock roaches, iguanas, fire ants, and many other exotic species! One day we did a long hike that involved crossing more than twenty rivers, encountering a Fer-De-Lance (poisonous snake), and scaling steep hills that required a rope. It was definitely an adventure and the trip of a lifetime.

Which Trek Travel trip is top on your bucket list and why?
I’m so excited to go on the Zion Long Weekend trip this year! After that, I would love to go to Spain. I have always wanted to go to there to teach English as a second language, and I think getting to know the area by bike first would be incredible!
 
 

 
 
How long have you been riding bikes?
I’ve been riding bikes since I was a little girl, but competitively since I was 15.

Tell us about your best day on a bicycle.
My mom and I love biking together, so the best days are always with her by my side. A few summers ago we both had the day off and took a long ride through Kettle Moraine State Forest. The views were gorgeous, and we stopped at a nearby lake for a picnic and swim. We didn’t have anywhere else to be that day, so we could truly enjoy the ride at whatever pace we wanted.

Do you have an especially memorable travel story you find yourself telling time and time again?
My family and I used to go to Canada every year and stay on an island to fish and enjoy the outdoors. Canada has the most beautiful scenery. One evening all five of us were out in the boat when it started to rain. Instead of going inside, we huddled under the umbrellas and kept fishing. When the clouds cleared, there was the most stunning double rainbow. It is a simple memory, but a special one.
 
 

 
 

It’s early Saturday morning, you’re exhausted from an epic work week, and you’re expecting company the following morning. Not just any random acquaintances though–these are people whom you’ve never met and really want to impress. They don’t know each other and they don’t know you. Except, they’ve all heard that when it comes to your shindigs, they can expect the best of the best. They are very different people with different ideas of what “the best” means, but they are all anticipating an unforgettable visit with you. And there’s 20 of them. Oh, and they’re staying for a week.

This is a routine Saturday in the life of a Trek Travel guide.

So on Saturdays we get stuff done. There are copies to be made, routes to be edited, groceries to be bought, vans to be washed, bikes to be prepped, hotel reservations to confirm, dinner menus to amend, social hours to organize, picnics to be created, welcome bags to be stuffed, logistics to be discussed, dishes to wash, laundry to get done, suitcases to pack. And you should probably remember to eat (but sleep is for the weak, so don’t worry about that).
 
 

 
 
With that mountain of work in front of you, who would you want beside you?

For guides, often times it’s somebody we met three hours earlier at the airport. Perhaps in that moment we have no idea how they perform under pressure; we don’t know their strengths and weaknesses in the field; we’re unsure whether they need four cups of coffee or eight before it’s okay to talk to them in the morning. But we do know one thing: it’s always going to be the best person for the job, because that’s what it means to be a Trek Travel guide. Amid the incredibly wide range of backgrounds and experience, there are consistent characteristics within each of us that boils down to a few basic personality traits that make up a guide. So no matter where in the globe you may roam or what style of trip you may be assigned, you know that the person working next to you is going to share certain intrinsic characteristics with you. They’re your colleague, your adventure buddy, your biggest critic, your confidant, your partner in crime, your roommate, your friend, your enemy, and your greatest resource. They’re your co-guide. And there will never be any relationship like the one you share.

I just returned from 2016 Return Guide Training in California and I am overflowing with admiration for the human beings that I get to share my job with. We don’t have an office, we have a van. We don’t clock in at nine and clock out at five, we are on as long as our eyes are open. We don’t get to go home to our families at night, we go back to the guide house and crack a beer if we’re lucky. It is incredibly difficult to describe our job to people, and it is even more difficult to explain the co-guide relationship. Over the last year I have grown more as a human being just by associating with these incredible people than any other experience to date in my adult life. And if I can give you even a small glimpse into that world, I want to try. I’d like to share some of the lessons I’ve learned in one year of guiding and building relationships and gleaning life advice from some of the best in the business. Being a Trek Travel guide has made me a better human being. And although it would be impossible to outline everything I’ve learned this year, here are ten things I learned from my co-guides that have made me a better person:
 
 

 
 
1. Trust
Being a Trek Travel guide is like doing a giant trust fall. You are thrown into a situation where your livelihood depends on your ability to work cohesively with another person who you may have never met before. You have to trust that your co-guide is there with the same intentions and the same end goal as you, and that they’re doing their part to get the job done. You have to trust their judgment and trust their decision-making process. You learn quickly that there are a hundred different ways to get the job done, and you learn to trust that your co-guide knows what they’re doing.

2. Humility
This is a big one. My first year, I felt like I had to prove myself in the field. Sometimes I got a little cocky and unreceptive to coaching. Criticism hit hard. But I was constantly learning. Constantly realizing that everyone around me has so much to offer and so many lessons to teach. At some point I learned to put my ego aside and ask that stupid question or take a suggestion on a better way to get something done. Being a guide is a constantly humbling experience, and humility itself is a great teacher.

3. Be Honest
Your co-guide is going to know who didn’t pump that tire up to pressure. They’re going to know who messed up the lunch order. They’re going to know who left the toilet paper empty at the guide house. You can’t scapegoat your way out of things in this line of work. If you made a mistake, the best way to fix it is to admit your wrongdoing. Now you’ve got two brains figuring out how to make it right.

4. Give Credit
One of the best guiding tips I learned this year was in Mallorca with Kyle. Kyle taught me that there’s no room for “I” in guiding. If you do something awesome for a guest, you never say, “Look what I did!” Instead you say, “Look what we did.” We prepped your bike. We made that delicious chicken salad. We can’t find your luggage. Not only does this present a unified front as a guide team, but it means sharing in the responsibility when things go wrong and sharing the credit when things go right.
 
 

 
 
5. Work It Out
Another piece of Kyle wisdom was about co-guide communication. When you spend 13 hours a day working with someone and then go home to also live with that person (for weeks a time), you don’t want to have unresolved issues between the two of you. From the get-go, Kyle told me, “If I’m doing something you don’t agree with, tell me immediately. I am going to do the same.” In the middle of a hectic day, when tensions are high and there’s no room for mistakes, don’t let things fester. Talk about it now.

6. Quick Forgiveness
This is something I learned in Vermont from my co-guide Laura Lee. One day I messed something up and I felt horrible about it. Laura Lee said to me, “Remember, we are all just doing our best out here.” She could have been really mad at me, but instead she was compassionate and forgiving. When co-guides mess up, you have to learn from the mistake and forgive quickly. Because we never mean to mess up. We are all just doing our best.

7. Patience
As a guide you learn very quickly that everybody is different: guests are all different people, subcontractors are all different people, and co-guides are all different people. With that comes differences in opinions, expectations, and thought processes. Learning to be patient with your fellow humans goes a long way out here.

8. Joy
In the past four days I have experienced more spontaneous dance parties, more bear hugs, and more belly laughs than I can remember in such a short period of time. During trips, there may be times when you can’t stand your co-guide. But one year later at Guide Training, you’re sprinting to hug them and snorting beer out of your nose from laughing. These people are your family. You fight like family sometimes, but you also learn to love them like family. You share life and you share joy, and it is invaluable.
 
 

 
 
9. Be Present
The fact is heavy on my heart that I may not see these individuals for another year. Once we’re out in the field, moving between trips and countries, it’s co-guide roulette. So while we are all here together, every moment matters. Out on a trip, looking across the Pacific Ocean at sunset or riding up Formentor on a Friday afternoon, every moment is beautiful. You learn to be there.

10. Gratitude
There is no part about this job to not be thankful for. We get to travel to beautiful places, eat great food, ride our bikes, and do something we love. The work is hard. But when you and and your co-guides are sitting on the hotel balcony in 7,800,000 thread count bath robes holding craft beers and looking out over the Bay of Nicoya, you just have to toss a little “thanks” into the universe. Even when the work is hard and I am dog tired, learning to look around at where I am makes it impossible to ignore how fortunate I am to call this my job.

I’m sitting here in a rare moment alone and feeling so incredibly grateful that I’m going to keep seeing these faces and hearing these funny laughs along the way. I know that once the season gets rolling and we’re out there living in the thick of it, things are going to get hectic and stressful and I’m going to forget this feeling. I hope I don’t. I hope I never forget Ioanna introducing herself to me by saying, “You look like a person that dogs would like.” I don’t want to forget Tony and Jake’s matching disco costumes while they pose for a photo op. I don’t want to forget listening to Grant teach everybody bike mechanics. And I definitely don’t want to forget how much I’ve grown over the short span of one year.

I can’t wait for round two.
 
 

 
 

My wife and I are ten-year veterans of Trek Travel and have enjoyed many memorable wows. Here are three of my favorite moments:

Words and Photographs by Bob Joy, Trek Travel Guest
 
 

 

Cycling up Mont Ventoux was on my “sprocket list” ever since I watched Chris Froome win a dramatic summit finish in the 2013 Tour de France. The opportunity to climb it convinced me to sign up for the Provence Luxury trip last June. To be truthful, the prospect of cycling through Medieval stone villages, sampling French wines, and taking a cooking lesson from a Michelin-starred chef also played into the decision.

The Giant of Provence looms 6,200 feet above the surrounding landscape. The most famous (and difficult) route to the summit is from the south and starts, conveniently enough, just outside the Trek dealership in Bedoin. The first six kilometers rise at a relatively tame 4%, but the final 16 kilometers have an average gradient of nearly 9%, with some sections of 11% or more. (For comparison, Alpe d’Huez is only about 14 kilometers long and has an average gradient of 8%.)

The limestone summit of Mont Ventoux is well above the tree line and the weather can be unforgiving. Even its name–Ventoux–means windy in French. Fortunately, the winds were light on the day of my climb. At age 65 I knew my ride would not be Strava-worthy, but I didn’t anticipate that it would become an unrelenting three-hour grind. Each time I contemplated giving up, my Trek Travel guide Tara Hetz was there with the van to refill my water bottle and cheer me on. Without her encouragement I doubt I would have made it. Now as I look back on it, I take pride in the fact that I accomplished something few cyclists in the world can claim. In a word, it was “epic.”
 
 

 
 
At the other end of the comfort spectrum was the week we spent on the Barcelona Villa trip. My wife and I will never forget the “pinch me” feeling we had as we toured the historic stone villa that would be our home for the next week. Like other trips in the One Collection, we appreciated being able to unpack our suitcases for a week and feel like residents instead of tourists. Each day we cycled to a different destination for lunch. One day it was an elegant country restaurant. Another day we had a memorable tasting at an outstanding Spanish winery. And the final day we climbed up to a restaurant perched high above the Mediterranean Sea to dine on regional specialties on the outdoor terrace.
 
 

 
 
However, it’s not necessary to venture to France or Spain for a memorable experience. The Bryce and Zion trip was a photographer’s delight from the very first day. After our bike fitting in the parking lot of the Boulder Mountain Lodge, we set out for an orientation ride along a lightly traveled road called the Burr Trail. At one point I caught up with another member of our group who was standing astride his bike. When I asked whether he needed assistance he said, “Just listen.” When I did, I realized he had discovered something rare: a place where there was no wind, no traffic, and no sound. We both silently stood there for a few minutes enjoying the nothingness.

Soon after resuming my ride I rounded a bend and was floored by the unexpected vista of red sandstone walls of Long Canyon. It was the first of many awe-inspiring moments we enjoyed that week.

But if I had to choose just one favorite trip, it will always be the next one!
 
 

 
 

Congratulations, you’ve made it through the most grueling hiring process! You have learned the many, many tasks that are required to be a Trek Travel guide. You’re a mechanic, chef, entertainer, guide, GPS wiz, food and wine expert, driver, leader, cultural interpreter, magician, and so much more. Now the real work begins.

Words by Gabrielle Porter, Trek Travel Guide
 
 

 

Having just finished my first year as a Trek Travel guide, I want to help you prepare for your new reality (yes, despite what your family and friends may say, this is the “real world”). Here are ten highlights from life on the road as a first year guide.

1. Bike grease. Expect it everywhere, all the time. Literally, all the time. You will invent as many ways to hide it as you will to remove it. It will be your most consistent companion in your new life of constant movement. (If only grunge would make a style impact within the chic circles of luxury hospitality!)
 
 

 
 
2. Michelin food is delicious. It’s impeccable, beautiful, full of story and grace, true art and truly delectable. It is one of the greatest and most unique perks of the job, and all you will want is a salad by the end of the season.

3. There is no greater joy as a guide than seeing that light in the eye and expression of a guest when they connect to the region, country and trip. When something you or your co-guide says on Day 1 turns an average vacation into the experience of a lifetime.

4. The only joy that could possibly compete with the feeling above is watching a guest achieve a lifetime cycling goal. When he decides to ride a road bike for the first time. When she descends a hill rather than jumping in the van. When she crushes her first century and then some. When he summits Mount Ventoux and gives you a big hug at the top. They didn’t think they could do it. They wanted to, and absolutely could, but you helped them get there. You walked them through the details, coached them through technique, paced and supported, and were there every kilometer of the way.

5. Learn to drink wine properly, you scoundrel. It is the quickest and easiest way to impress guests with your sophistication and prove that you belong in this world as well as the one of bike grease (which will inevitably be found beneath your finger nails). It’s also a great attribute back home when trying to impress family, friends, and that special someone.
 
 

 
 
6. This is a real job. You will work hard. It is not just getting paid to ride bikes in beautiful places. The first person who must realize this is yourself, otherwise it will be a rough transition, you will not be a favorite amongst co-guides, and frankly, will not last long. So buck up, bud. You can sleep in a few weeks.

The second group of people you will need to convince of this is your friends and family. They are absolutely stoked (outdoor colloquial) for you but not exactly sure what “it is”. And lastly, you will need to convince many of your guests, especially first time travelers. Be prepared to answer this question, which will absolutely come up and has been spotted in many forms: “So this is a job?” When do you think you’ll get a real job? Wow, this is a tough job (but someone has to do it). You get paid to do this? Well, this is a nice summer activity. Or my personal favorite, “So what do your parents think about you doing this?” (probably reserved for the younger members of our team).

7. The secret is, you will not fathom this is your job and no matter how many times you respond to those questions you will have profoundly surreal moments. Sometimes they creep up slowly and last a day, other times they slam down on you like an anvil and you’ll gasp as you descend a lovely canyon or taste a new wine or see a guest fall in love with a new corner of the world. You are outside every day. You are moving your body every day. You are experiencing life while working, learning, tasting, listening, smelling and feeling each day. It is a rare and true gift.
 
 

 
 
8. You have an immense and quick ability to learn, and be assured the learning curve is steep. No matter how confident you are coming out of training, no matter how much you remember, your experienced co-guide will put in much more work than you during the first few trips. You may not realize it, but I promise it’s true. You will learn the “in the field” realities and practicalities. You will learn so much more than you could possibly absorb. Most of all, you will get good at transitioning problems and disasters with a smile on your face.

9. Mysterious ticking noises are just a fun challenge to expand your bike mechanic knowledge. No matter how many hours and obscenities it takes.

10. You work with the most fun, resourceful, talented and entertaining people on earth. Watch. Listen. Learn. Appreciate. And be honored, if not slightly confused, that you may count yourself amongst their number. You got this.
 
 

 
 

The popular adage, “It’s just like riding a bike” is often used to describe a skill you can gain, that is so intuitive and natural, you don’t even think about remembering how to do it. As a kid, I can still recall the feeling I had when my parents took the training wheels off my one-speed purple Huffy bike. Balancing on two wheels while pedaling and steering at the same time was exhilarating!  

Words by Beth White, Trek Travel Guide

 

 
 
Throughout my life, riding a bike has served many purposes for me. My first job was delivering newspapers with that same Huffy bike. I was able to sling a canvas bag (bursting with papers) over the big banana seat, allowing my to complete my route in less than an hour. It was my introduction to responsibility and earning my own money for the first time ever! Then in my high school and college years, biking became my main mode of transportation (even through all of Wisconsin’s seasonal weather changes).

As an adult, I’ve been part of various cycling advocacy groups, working to improve commuting routes so that cars and bikes can safety share the road. I believe that these efforts help to build healthy communities, from reducing traffic congestion and improving air quality to having a culture that encourages physical activity.  

But my passion for cycling grew in a recreational capacity when I was introduced to mountain biking through the Texas-based Ride Like a Girl non-profit organization, created to encourage more women to go mountain biking. The group is extremely welcoming and supportive of cyclists at all levels, from first time mountain bikers to competitive racers. Cycling not only challenged me physically and mentally outside of my day job, but also helped me create a circle of new friends.
 
 

 
 
Upon ending a 17 year relationship, I had an opportunity to really examine what I was doing with my life as well as what I wanted out of my future (I call this my “mid-life awakening”). I had spent the last twenty years of my life building successful careers in human resource management and sales while working for high-tech emerging companies. After many long hours at a desk, devoting my life to my career, I was discouraged by the frequent layoffs and lack of personal gratification for the sacrifices I was making. It took a lot of deep soul searching and a little inspiration from other risk takers in my life, but I finally decided to make my passion a way to make a living. I just had to figure out how.

Then one day, a friend gave me some advice: “With your love of travel, people and cycling, you would make an awesome cycling guide!” Honestly, being in my mid-forties, it was not a profession I had ever considered. But after speaking to friends of friends at Trek Travel, I realized that this job was a great fit for my personality and it was the perfect way for me to combine my love of cycling and travel.

Each trip I meet wonderful guests–two sisters celebrating each other’s birthdays, old friends reuniting after years apart, couples taking first vacation in years without children, parents and their daughter celebrating a college graduation, anniversaries, honeymoons and more.

Being able to guide guests through experiences of a lifetime in beautiful locations has allowed me to share my passion for cycling and travel with others. It brings out the kid in everyone. Cycling is no longer just a hobby, but now I can proudly say that it is my profession and way of life. Sometimes we all have to take personal journeys and try many things to find our true calling. But in the end, we may revert to the passions that have long been present in our lives, “Just like riding a bike.”
 
 

 
 

I remember when my son Zeb was interviewing for Trek Travel one year ago. He had just graduated from Appalachian State with a degree in Public Health Education. He had completed his student teaching at a county high school and I wondered if he would go in to Education (and follow in my footsteps).

Words by Susie King, Mom of Trek Travel guide Zeb King

 

 
 
I knew he had a passion for cycling as he had raced at the collegiate and professional levels, and my husband and I spent many weekends watching him race. We traveled throughout North Carolina, Virginia and South Carolina, and I spent summer vacation going to Wisconsin for the Tour of America’s Dairyland. Zeb’s excitement about cycling was contagious to say the least!

In the back of my mind, I kept thinking about how much I loved cycling when I was in college. I didn’t race or compete in any way, but almost every day for a couple of years, I jumped on my Carolina Blue Huffy 10 speed and rode. I was in Greensboro, N.C. and the city was full of bike paths that went all around town and out to the Battleground. I loved riding alone and pushing myself to maximum effort.

It wasn’t until Zeb got his job with Trek Travel that I thought about riding again myself. At 54, I knew I needed to get in shape. Sure, I walk on a fairly regular basis and do yoga once a week, but I needed something else. Zeb’s first trip that he guided was in Utah through Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park. I visited him during June and he got me back on a bike. I loved it! Compared to that Huffy 10 speed, the Trek bike he let me ride felt like a Mercedes!

After that, I decided I had to get me a new bike. With Zeb’s help, I bought an awesome Trek FX 7.5 WSD and a full Bontrager kit and helmet. I am really loving getting back in to riding. Although there is not a great place for me to ride out my back door, I can easily take off a wheel, throw the bike in the car, and hit the trails close by. I hope to continue this new love, which I know will help me physically and mentally in the years to come. Thanks Trek for my new lease on life! And for Zeb’s awesome job as a Trek Travel Guide!
 
 

 
 

When I first began speaking to my now friend and then contact Jonathan Hershberger (Hershy) about becoming a guide with Trek Travel, there were many questions. Anyone of a certain varietal would seek this job under any circumstances. I, however, had a mild background in active-travel guiding and knew there could be caveats to the dream. Long hours, inconsistent work, life in a bag away from home.

Words by Gabrielle Porter, Trek Travel Guide

 

 
 
I asked Hershy about the company culture, the home office and guiding. His response? “We are, I dare-say, one big family.” I read these words and was a tad suspicious, a jaded reaction perhaps. Come on. One big family? But he really wasn’t trying to sell me anything. We had enough in common to treat each other honestly. Even if he was exaggerating, it was clear there were good people within the company and I pursued the long application process with suppressed yet lingering sarcastic suspicion.

Now, one year in, I can say with confidence that we truly are like one big family here at Trek Travel. Just like a family, not everyone gets along all the time, there are some you are closer with and others you barely know. Yet you would do any of them a favor in a minute, because they are part of the family and that’s what you do. Some things drive you crazy and sometimes you just need to get away, but they make you incredibly happy, they are fun and loving, and they are there in the very thick and the very thin.
 
 

 
 
I know our company’s family-like culture most poignantly from the co-guides I have had the great pleasure to live and work with. If you are spending all waking hours with one or the same group of people and wish to enjoy life, it is essential to get along with them. The stakes increase when the context is extremely diverse. We jump between professional situations including paper work, inner-company logistics, bike tuning, actual guiding, cooking, contract developing, and designing (to name a few). We jump between social situations like going from acquaintances to roommates in seconds; our schedules are such that we essentially dominate each other’s social lives (what little there may be) for months. We jump between personal situations, supporting each other in times of loneliness and happiness, when graduations, weddings, funerals, reunions, and births are all occurring at home. We don’t know each other from an early time but our existence with one another becomes rapidly intimate.
 
 

 
 
The best part of all this time spent together is that somehow the greatest humans on earth have found their way to populate Trek Travel. Sure there are similarities amongst us, we all have a few common passions essential to the job: cycling, traveling, interesting people, good food. But the more you interact, the more you learn the great intricacies and diversities of each person, their background, personality, humor, interests. Each has their own incredible story of the most engaging quality and it’s almost freakish that a group of people with such goodness could be collected into one entity at any one point in time.

There came a time late in this season in which the full meaning and impact of Hershy’s statement came to be truth. The night before a trip start, a dear friend of mine was murdered. It was one of those awful moments, when you get news and your legs can’t hold you. What do you do? What can you do? How do you support or even navigate being around someone who is finding out such news? Let alone if you really don’t know them beyond a few weeks or months, don’t know their context or where they come from. It doesn’t matter. The sneak-peak insider’s look into guide life that so many guests ask for is this: adventure, camaraderie and support network.
 
 

 
 
So, as this year draws to an end and we all reflect upon what 2015 brought and gave, I think back to one year ago when I was approaching Trek Travel for the first time. When I had not met the many wonderful people I now know. I think about that sentence Hershy sent me and I am grateful for its validity. For the many moments of vast laughter and jokes over pickled carrots and table wine out of porcelain cups in Puglia. For take-out Vietnamese, shivering at the base of Mount Ventoux and 16-hour chamois days, moving trailers at midnight. For dance parties in the parking lot of Chateau de Mazan and family meals on the patio, the sun setting over Provincial fields and spending night after night with the coolest ladies in the world. Who else can say they genuinely enjoy having six house mates and a tiny kitchen? For getting lost countless times amongst the never-ending Bordeaux vineyards and a co-guide that doesn’t judge you for insisting upon pulling over and napping by the side of the road before you can GPS another kilometer of the route. For late night long drives and many tolls. For warm meals and an impeccable whistling ability. For the constant invitation to visit fellows’ regions. For the great adventure of finding an open recycle center on a Saturday. For hard workers, smart people, and jokesters who can share a landscape with all our wonderful guests. When too many questions is not a thing. For Belgian brews and drizzly walks. My colleagues can fix everything, save any situation, make anyone smile, and teach and teach and teach.
 
 

 
 
I am thankful for all the laughter and productivity. And I am thankful for the best support system I could have asked for during those two weeks. For the shot of whisky Leanne immediately took with me, no questions asked, the night of. For the constant reminder Celine gave that La Vie Est Belle. For the graceful way Tara navigated working with me immediately after, despite the turbulent internal energy I had that we had to keep secret. When she stroked my hair until I fell asleep for the first time in days. For Marcia’s text and all the extra work she took on. For the moments she let me bike away, for just a bit, to breathe. For the many texts of affection and support and proper space I got from co-guides who were far away in other regions. For the office getting me home. How many companies would actually respond that quickly and with such sincere support?

So, now amongst the holidays, when many of us are home with our family and friends, I extend my gratitude and affection to the incredible humans within Trek Travel. In all its corniness, I dare-say that we are one big family.