The world of bikepacking was rocked yesterday with the unexpected and sudden death of the Oregon Outback. As with any good murder mystery, there is suspense, drama, anger, sadness and massive amounts finger pointing going on.

The Oregon Outback was both a bikepacking route and an annual race of the same name. Starting in Klamath Falls, it shoots north through Oregon, crossing high desert plains, going through woods and down into canyons populated primarily by living ghost towns, ranches and coyotes. After covering 364 miles and 14,376 ft of elevation gain, the Oregon Outback ends at the Deschutes River on the border of Washington. It is, in a word, stunning.

Donnie Kolb, the mastermind behind the route and event, pulled the plug after it’s second running. After a massively successful first year, the 2015 edition attracted even more people. At some point in time, a few unknown riders lost their common sense. Garbage and human excrement were left behind not just on the trail but in public parks and, in one case, a Good Samaritan’s barn. A local allowed a group to stay in his barn overnight in order to stay out of the rain, and they paid him back with gifts of, literally, crap left inside the building.

Angered by the trashing of his beloved Oregon and the treatment of its people, Donnie posted the following:

“So, while I had an inkling the Oregon Outback might be a bit of a shit-show this year because a lot more people would be riding, I didn’t imagine this would be why – that it would turn into a literal shit show. I’m sad and disgusted and angry, and I don’t see any other way to make this right short of shutting it down so this never happens again. I’m sorry folks, but the Oregon Outback is dead.”

In the tiny but rapidly growing bikepacking community, this is like a small atomic bomb dropping. The effect has been, sadly, people immediately pulled out their pre-existing axes and grinding them. I’ve seen posts blaming “hipsters”, the “radavisation” of the event, and “kids” who need a “good whooping growing up”. While I can appreciate a solid, blind, angry finger pointing as much as the next person, none of this does a lick of good for anyone. The bottom line is that nobody knows who did it. Blaming a broad swathe of people for the actions of a few unknown asshats makes you just as much of an asshat. So, first and foremost, to my beloved bikepacking community, whom I love with all my heart: Calm. The. Hell. Down.

The conversation we should be having, as (in theory) somewhat vaguely fully functioning adults is how this came to be, and what we can do in the future to avoid it. I for one want to see bikepacking as a whole continue to thrive. There is no better way to get outside and see the wilderness than by going camping on a bike. The more people who do it, the better. Grassroots events like the Oregon Outback are key to introducing folks to the concept. Existing riders hear about it from their friends or the various news sites, blogs, etc. Non-cyclists along the routes see us roll through town and some of them are bound to think, “Hey, that looks like it could be a pretty good way to go!”

For me, I think there are a few things to think about:

• Education: Leave No Trace is The Rule. Personally, I think it’s more than likely that some folks who don’t have the most outdoors experience got caught up in the excitement of the Oregon Outback, went to do the event, and simply had no idea that Leave No Trace even exists. If your only previous camping was in a car, with toilets and dumpsters nearby, there is a pretty good chance you don’t know to carry a trowel in order to bury your own poop, or that you should pack out your own garbage. Event organizers in particular, and the community as a whole, need to stress the Leave No Trace ethics more. Not just once, or twice, but continually. Don’t assume that folks who show up with fancy bikepacking rigs understand what they are getting into. At the same time, don’t treat the enthusiastic rookies badly, either. We were all clueless at some point in time. I know I was. Hell, 6 years later in many ways I still am. Welcome them, educate them, and take some joy in watching them go off on their adventures.
• Welcome all comers. One of the most disappointing things to me in the immediate aftermath of Donnie’s announcement has been the instant recriminations and accusations. Fast, serious racers started “hipster bashing”. There have been thinly veiled jabs at “racers” who are going so fast that they obviously are just crapping wherever they can. Etc, etc. Maybe I’m just naive and have too much faith in humanity, but folks, we’re better than this. I’ve turned pedals with all types while out there riding in the middle of nowhere. In the end, the common theme with all of them is a love for being on the bike, experiencing things the vast majority of people sadly don’t ever get to see. It flat out doesn’t matter if  you’re a racer, a hipster, a photographer, a fast tourer, or whatever. That love is the common thread. Drop the labels and toss your axes on the scrap pile. They aren’t needed or wanted.
• Racing isn’t always racing. These “races” are free. No entry fees, no prize money, no support. And let’s face it, not everybody who shows up to a bikepacking “race” is going to be racing. Don’t get me wrong. I started bikepacking in 2010 purely so I could go race the Tour Divide. The outdoors wasn’t the draw for me back then, the race was. For some folks, going fast is what they show up to do. Racers will always race, even if they’re pushing shopping carts in a parking lot. The vast majority of folks, however, while they are technically “racing”, are really there for the shared experience of rolling through gorgeous scenery with a bunch of like minded people. In the end, we need to acknowledge that fact and adjust our expectations accordingly. Maybe we don’t advertise events like the Oregon Outback as a race. Maybe we just say these are bikepacking events and the fast guys get some kudos for, well, going fast, but the focus is no longer on racing. Just because the Tour Divide is a race doesn’t mean ALL bikepacking events need to be.
• Accountability. We can have it. Perhaps we should start requiring registration and Spot trackers in order to attend bikepacking events. Would those folks have crapped all over the Good Samaritan’s barn if their Spot tracker had placed them at the scene? Maybe, maybe not. Without knowing the people involved, that’s hard to say. Regardless, it would create some accountability for actions taken, as well as making sure people have a safe out if they get into trouble.

The Oregon Outback as an event is dead. But the Oregon Outback as a bikepacking route continues to exist, and it is absolutely incredible. In the end, we can’t let the actions of a few people be the last thing the folks in Oregon experience of the bikepacking community. The only true way to repair that damage is for people to go ride it on their own. Be kind to the locals, appreciate what they have to offer, enjoy the beauty that Donnie and the Oregon Bikepacking crew were trying to share with everybody in the first place. Just because the annual event is gone doesn’t mean you still can’t get out there to do it. The route itself is one of the best I’ve ever ridden. I’ll be going back myself, some day, armed with a 4×5 pinhole camera and 50 sheets of film! And a really, really big granny gear.