Twelve friends, twelve fat bikes, and a winter storm forecast predicting up to three feet of snow—what could go wrong?
I’m Kristy, part of the Customer Success Team here at Ari, and I love riding bikes with anyone who is willing. Every year we tackle Green Canyon and the elements. This year we brought together a crew of seasoned riders and a few who were trying fat biking for the first time.
Our adventure began at the bottom of Green Canyon in Logan, Utah, with our bikes packed for an overnight yurt stay. The Green Canyon road is groomed for cross-country skiers, with a designated trail for snowshoeing and fatbiking. After checking in with the trail groomer, who reassured us that conditions were firm and grippy, we loaded up and set off, excited for the challenge ahead.
The Climb to the Yurt
The initial conditions weren’t bad—our bikes handled well, and spirits were high. However, the weather quickly turned. Wet snow began to fall, drenching those without waterproof shells. The singletrack wound through the canyon, featuring snowy technical climbs, fast descents, and tight turns. Some of us packed light, bringing only the essentials, while others came prepared for multiple nights in the backcountry.
As the snow deepened, our progress slowed. Stepping off the trail meant sinking into knee-deep powder. One of us learned this the hard way after sliding into a ravine, requiring a human chain for rescue. Another rider’s foot sank so deep that her bike toppled over onto her. She heard a pop in her knee but, fortunately, was able to walk to the yurt.
The group naturally split into two—faster riders in the front and a “party pace” crew in the back. By the time the first group reached the yurt, snow was falling heavily. They immediately started a fire, melted snow for drinking water, and prepared the space for the rest of the team.
Yurt Life: Drying Gear and Strengthening Bonds
Arriving at the yurt felt like a victory, but the adventure was far from over. Everyone was soaked, and the small space quickly filled with clothing hanging from every available surface, hoping to dry by morning. The yurt, with its creaky twin-over-double bunk cots, was far better than sleeping on the floor.
As the fire crackled, we settled in, sharing food, gear tips, and stories. Conversations flowed from life and love to struggles and triumphs. A “get-to-know-you” game led to singing, dancing, and even a few tears. Laughter echoed through the yurt as new friendships formed and old ones grew stronger. There’s something about tackling a brutal ride together that bonds people in a way few other experiences can.
The Treacherous Ride Out
Overnight, the heavy snowfall turned to rain, leaving the trail slushy and unstable. The descent proved far more difficult than the climb. The first section was soft and deep, but once we reached the road, conditions became downright dangerous—frozen, slick, and nearly impossible to ride.
It felt like a scene from a comedy movie—riders went down like bowling pins, sliding across the ice. If you fell, getting back up was a challenge in itself. One woman resorted to crawling on her hands and knees, dragging her bike behind her. Eventually, we abandoned the road entirely, opting to walk or ride through a field to safely reach the parking lot.
When we finally made it back—exhausted yet exhilarated—we laughed, shared stories, and were already talking about our next adventure.
Reflections on the Ride
Fatpacking in Green Canyon was an unforgettable experience—equal parts challenging, hilarious, and deeply rewarding. The unpredictable weather tested our endurance, but the camaraderie and support of these strong women made it all worthwhile.
In the end, it wasn’t just about the miles ridden or the obstacles overcome—it was about the connections forged along the way. Because when you’re cold, wet, and pushing through deep snow with a bike packed to the brim, you discover just how much you can rely on the people around you.
And that’s what makes a bike adventure truly epic.
Until next time, Green Canyon.
Article written by Kristy