Fresh pulls of espresso waltz through a cold September morning, dancing alongside a particular brand of nervous excitement. It’s a certain hum I’ve come to understand as unique to the start of bikepacking trips and the suckers who choose such endeavors as their vacation. Strangers who will become good friends in a few short miles clear the frogs from their throats to answer early morning queries about their hometowns, bike set-ups, and handlebar tchotchkes over hot breakfast burritos and steamy lattes slung by Autobahn Coffee as we all wait for the start of the Salsa Cycles Ochoco Overlander.
