Five Tips For Surviving The Mountain Race Series
By Meaghan Hackinen
Set against the backdrop of some of the world’s most breathtaking landscapes, the Mountain Races take riders on unforgettable adventures in unexpected places.
Created by Nelson Trees, this trio of races has become the international benchmark of self-supported bikepack racing, pushing riders to their limits physically, mentally, and logistically.
Building on the momentum of my 2024 Tour Divide win, I challenged myself by taking on the entire series: Atlas Mountain Race in Morocco (February), Hellenic Mountain Race in Greece (May), and the Silk Road Mountain Race in Kyrgyzstan (August). Individually, the events had been on my radar for some time. That a woman had yet to attempt all three in a single calendar year, combined with me turning 40 — a milestone birthday deserving of epic commemoration — solidified my season goals.
I rode a 2025 Salsa Cutthroat C Force X0 AXS Transmission, a bike purpose-built for ultra-endurance racing across rough, remote terrain. I swapped the carbon fork for a RockShox SID Select suspension fork for better handling on the technical sections. The Cutthroat’s carbon frame with Salsa’s Class 5™ Vibration Reduction System smooths out harsh surfaces, reducing fatigue over long days in the saddle. Lightweight yet rugged, efficient yet comfortable, the Cutthroat delivers the balance of speed, stability, and dependability needed to complete the multi-continent, self-supported Mountain Races.
It’s no exaggeration to say that every one of the Mountain Races felt like the hardest thing I’ve ever done. With a finish rate hovering just above 50%, there are innumerable factors that could lead to a scratch, from mechanicals to injury to food poisoning. Yet I persevered, becoming not only the first (and fastest) woman to finish the series in a single season, but taking the win in both the Hellenic and Silk Road races, and second place in the Atlas.
Read on for five essential tips to help you survive—and thrive—across the demanding terrain, unpredictable weather, and relentless climbs of the Mountain Races.
1. Preparation is Key
Packing, training, and knowledge base — so much of any ultra-distance adventure is sorted before you even get to the start. Decisions about gear, like whether to wear flats or clipless, opt for a bivvy or a tent, or which POIs (Points of Interest) to include on a GPX file, are sorted before you leave home, and are difficult to adjust on the fly. Give yourself plenty of time for this stage.
With the Mountain Races spaced three months apart, once I recovered from one event I had about two months to prepare before jetting off again. I discovered just how fast time flew by as I was purchasing event-specific kit, dialing in my training, and attending to all the other aspects of daily life. I was thankful for the preparation when I arrived at the race, feeling confident and ready. Putting the time in beforehand allowed me to unload some mental baggage to better focus on the present moment, whether that meant soaking in the stark beauty of the mountains or calculating whether I could make it to the next resupply before dark.
2. One Bike, Three Races
Ride the bike you’ve got, they say. Or ride the bike you love. I got to do both this season, and delighted in the process of getting to know my new Salsa Cutthroat in various configurations and environments. Whatever bike you have, consider how you can adapt your setup (gearing, pack system, suspension, wheels, and tires) to increase your comfort and meet the demands of the terrain.
As mentioned earlier, I used a suspension fork for all three races. Another equipment choice that proved indispensable was a custom dynamo wheelset that powered my lights and charged electronics.
While I made minor adjustments for each event — such as adding a front roll to carry my more robust sleep kit for Silk Road — I made the most significant alterations for the Hellenic Mountain Race in Greece. With a sawtooth profile gaining 92,000 feet (28,000 m) in only 547 miles (880 km), there is no flat ground in the Pindus Mountains. Instead of the 34t chainring and Cowchipper handlebars I favoured for Atlas and Silk Road, I switched to a smaller 30t chain ring to manage the steep climbing gradients and chose flat bars to navigate the challenging descents. I also removed the aerobars I used in the other two events and looked for other opportunities to cut grams.
3. Set Realistic Expectations
When it comes to the Mountain Races, setting realistic expectations is everything. These events test every facet of who you are as a rider: endurance, resilience, and problem-solving under pressure. I’ve learned that success doesn’t mean chasing the front or riding without rest — it’s about knowing your limits and managing them smartly.
The first step in understanding what you’re getting into is to read the race manual. Read it from front to back, and then read it again. I also dive into the route, YouTube recaps, kit lists, and my prior experience in similar terrain. Once I’ve amassed a knowledge base, I can make informed decisions that increase my chance of success — even if that means slowing down to practice self-care.
For instance, because I knew that much of Silk Road takes place in the Tian Shan Mountains above 10,000 feet (3,050 m), I arrived in Kyrgyzstan ahead of time to acclimate. During my shakeout tour I also learned how my body responded to altitude. Later, when I was racing and felt the effects — fatigue, weakness, difficulty breathing — I recognized the signs for what they were (coping with reduced oxygen), and didn’t mistakenly blame how I was feeling on poor fitness or lack of training. Because I formulated my game plan with altitude in mind, I wasn’t frustrated when I had to slow down or even stop to rest at higher elevations.
4. Eat As Much As You Can
Ultra-cycling is as much an eating contest as it is an athletic endeavor. The sheer caloric demand of back-to-back days in the saddle makes staying fueled a constant challenge. Between remote routes, sparse resupply points, and the occasional stomach rebellion, getting enough energy can feel impossible. My best advice? Eat as much as you can.
Forget precision nutrition and lean into whatever cravings keep you turning the pedals — Snickers, Haribos, Pepsi, anything that hasn’t been sitting in the hot sun all day without refrigeration. During Silk Road, I faced a 250 mile (400 km) stretch without resupply, and often rode a full 24 hours between open shops. My approach was simple: I’d feast when I could, then stash everything I could find in my jersey pockets, feed sacks, and backpack. One of my fondest food memories is relishing a dinner of canned tuna and bread from the comfort of my bivvy under a starlit sky as temperatures plunged below freezing. Each country offered its own culinary delights: juicy tangerines in Morocco, crisp oregano chips in Greece, and coolers brimming with ice cream in Kyrgyzstan.
Yet at some point, eating becomes more a chore than a pleasure. When this inevitably happens I tell myself to just eat what’s available and keep moving.
5. Chase Adventures, Not Rankings
It’s no secret that I’m competitive, and that drive is part of why I race. But over the course of this season, I learned that measuring myself solely against others isn’t the best long-term motivator. While competition can spark the decision to race, the focus, energy, and resilience necessary to carry through an entire season requires something deeper.
Instead, I turned to process goals: using my time efficiently, staying present, minimizing faffing, and tackling each route with curiosity. With adventure as my compass, I embraced the journey of both inward and outward discovery. Each race offered a new landscape and unique challenges, a world apart from my familiar training grounds in British Columbia’s Interior: from the vast Mars-scape of the Atlas Mountains to the rooty, near-vertical hiking trails of Greece to navigating between flocks of sheep and wild horses on the sweeping high-altitude pastures in Kyrgyzstan. By removing the pressure to achieve a certain result, I made room for gratitude, joy, and the occasional selfie.
The thrill isn’t only in riding fast or performing well; it’s in embracing the unknown and responding to constantly evolving circumstances. By chasing adventure rather than podiums, I stay present, steadfast, and deeply connected to the ride — and to myself, which, ultimately, is the most rewarding victory of all.
