Tour Divide Attempt
“I’m never going to ride my bike again.”
That was the first rational thought I had, beyond simply “survive,” the day I lost my foot.
I’ve always been deeply invested in bicycles as a lifestyle, not just a hobby. Through cycling I met my wife, and my closest friends; nearly every job I’ve ever worked was at a bike shop or along some stage of the bicycle manufacturing process. To quit riding bicycles had never occurred to me before. If anything, I thought bikes were more likely to kill me than for me to go on living without them. I’d experienced close calls, and a few bad crashes, but I never imagined a simple routine ride would end with losing a limb. But how could I possibly keep riding with only one foot?
The first hour after my accident was chaos. I was in the worst pain of my life, trying to answer the questions of first responders as they stabilized me, barely able to form words or thoughts. Once I was loaded into an ambulance, and the drugs started to kick in, it started to sink in that I’d lost a limb. I heard someone saying “I’m never going to be able to ride my bike again,” and realized I was voicing out loud my deepest fear. The paramedics overheard and tried to placate me, saying modern prosthetics are great and that I’d be back on a bike in no time.
Prosthetics? Of course. There had to be other people riding bikes who had experienced accidents, or lost limbs in other ways. I didn’t know it yet, but I was about to be introduced to the world of adaptive recreation—a welcoming, inclusive space made of athletes who are the kindest, most motivated people I’ve ever known.
My name is Dillen Maurer and this summer I will attempt to become the first amputee to complete the Tour Divide—one of the hardest endurance mountain bike races in the world. Competitors begin in Banff, Canada and ride about 2700 miles to Antelope Wells, New Mexico, traversing the Rocky Mountains from north to south. The fastest racers will be done after two weeks (or less, if they want to beat a record) while the supposed average length of time is closer to a month. I’ve optimistically mapped out a goal of four weeks for myself, and only time will tell if I am grossly overestimating my abilities.
Tour Divide racers are a loosely organized group of cyclists who have optimistically messaged a generally unresponsive email in the hope that a signup link will arrive some time before the second Friday in June each year. Once the link arrives, you have only days to complete the formal registration process, which consists of setting up your GPS device to send real time tracking information to the race organizers. There are rules of course—strict ones. And if you’re found to be in violation at any point during the weeks-long race, you’re disqualified without notice. Plenty of people have recreationally ridden the trail the Tour follows, but the number of folks who have raced is much smaller. It’s hard to know exactly who all has competed in, let alone completed, the Tour Divide. There is no full list of participants that I can find from years past. As far as I can tell, no other amputee has yet completed the Tour Divide. In my research, I did find one other amputee who started the race, but left the trail after six days. However, I knew none of this when the idea to race became one of my strongest motivators to recover.
My first five days in the hospital after the accident I was without my phone. I didn’t miss it, I was too busy writhing in agony to really consider much beyond eating, drinking, and not sleeping. When I was reconnected to the outside world, and a steady stream of narcotics, I distracted myself the best I could with cycling blogs and YouTube videos. I came across a video of Lael Wildcox’s 2021 Tour Divide journey and became obsessed with the race. In this video, she was trying to set the fastest known time (FKT) on the Tour Divide route. A truly mind blowing goal.
The first amputee I met after my accident was a cyclist who, like me, became an amputee after a mountain biking accident. Kyle Stepp brought breakfast to my hospital room and lifted my spirits with a contagious smile and positive attitude. I hadn’t yet managed to even go to the bathroom on my own, but he shut down my worries with stories of his own one-legged bicycle rides through the New Mexico mountains. He insisted that my life could look as adventurous and capable as I wanted it to, and for the most part he’s been right.
The last two and a half years since I lost my foot have been hard. I’ve had three surgeries on my left leg, the most recent this last December, and I’ve struggled to remain positive. I went from casually riding 50+ miles of gravel on an afternoon to spending the majority of my days on the couch because wearing a prosthetic hurt too much. I’ve come to learn how complicated healing from a traumatic injury can be, and how important a sense of purpose is to staying alive.
Dreaming about the Tour Divide, looking at maps of the Tour Divide, and talking about the Tour Divide (endlessly, sorry Jenn) has worked alongside a lot of therapy to silence some deep dark voices that arose after losing my foot. Without this project, I genuinely don’t know where I’d be today. The optimist in me says I would have found something else to drag me out of the darkness, but the truth is I just don’t know. If this alluring trail hadn’t been calling my name, I know there are plenty of days I wouldn’t have gotten up. It’s been the reason I push so hard at physical therapy, and it was the image I hold on to when getting back on my bike fucking hurts.
Now that the time has come to check off THE bucket list dream, how can I give back to the adaptive community that has given me so much? Taking inspiration from Lachlan Morton’s escapades led me to get involved with the nonprofit: Range of Motion Project (ROMP). They provide prosthetic care for underserved communities in Central and South America. As a ROMP ambassador, my goal is to spread awareness of their mission while doing what I can to gather resources to expand upon their efforts.
By following along here, you can donate to ROMP while I race from Canada to Mexico attempting to be the first rider with a prosthetic limb to complete the Tour Divide.
I aim to prove to myself, and anyone watching, that access to prosthetics can be truly life changing. Without my new foot, made of metal and carbon, I wouldn’t be able to walk or ride my bike. I never realized how much I took for granted being born with a functioning ankle joint that allowed me to traverse uneven ground, a foot that wouldn’t break if it got wet, and the responsiveness of a body that moved innately. Movement is a human right, often made inaccessible by lack of access to care or too expensive due to a broken healthcare system. Insurance falls wildly short of covering prosthetics and orthotics that are necessary to giving amputees and those living with limb difference the same level of access as able-bodied folks. Efforts by grass-roots organizations like ROMP, are often the only ways for many people to even get a prosthetic.
The official goal of this adventure is to set a FKT as an amputee. As far as I have been able to surmise, no amputee has yet finished the Tour Divide. As such, to set a FKT, I’ll just have to finish! While time will tell how far I make it, I’m overjoyed to be attempting the route that I’ve come to love so much; to make real a dream that has kept me moving through the hardest recovery I’ve ever experienced.
Since there are an abundance of reasons I could fall short of this lofty goal, I’ll level with yall: the real goal here is to raise as much money and awareness as possible for ROMP! Prosthetics and their components aren’t cheap. Spreading the word about ROMP’s component recycling program to your friends in the medical field could change someone’s life. Every donation made to their organization will have a direct impact on someone who is currently on crutches, in a wheelchair, or sitting at home wishing they could walk again or for the first time. So please, spread the word! Let’s see how much good we can do as I, just some bike nerd with one foot, rides his bike from Canada to Mexico.
Stay tuned for updates! The Radavist team have so kindly expressed their stoke about this venture and will be following up this introduction with articles about the bike I’m riding and the gear necessary for such an adventure.
