The Allure of the Big Beating: Why La Paliza Grande is More Than Just a Bikepacking Route
There’s something about the name La Paliza Grande that grabs you—it’s raw, unapologetic, and a little intimidating. Translated as “The Big Beating,” it’s a name that doesn’t mince words, and frankly, that’s exactly what makes it so compelling. Personally, I think the name is a masterclass in branding. It doesn’t promise an easy ride or a picturesque stroll; it promises a challenge, a test of will, and an experience that will leave you changed. And in a world where adventure often feels sanitized and curated, that’s refreshingly honest.
A Route That Defies Expectations
What makes La Paliza Grande particularly fascinating is its creator, Dylan Boyle’s, intent to stitch together the lesser-known roads and trails of Northern New Mexico. It’s not just a route; it’s a love letter to the untamed corners of the region. From my perspective, this is where the magic lies. In an era where every trail seems mapped, every peak Instagrammed, and every adventure commodified, La Paliza Grande feels like a rebellion. It’s a reminder that there’s still wilderness to be discovered, even in places we think we know.
The Terrain: A Symphony of Contrasts
One thing that immediately stands out is the sheer variety of landscapes. David Lamb’s video captures this beautifully—one moment you’re deep in an alpine forest, the next you’re staring at the multi-colored cliffs of French Mesa. What many people don’t realize is how rare this kind of diversity is in a single route. It’s not just about physical endurance; it’s about sensory overload. The transition from forest to high desert isn’t just a change in scenery—it’s a shift in perspective, a reminder of how vast and unpredictable nature can be.
Wildlife Encounters: The Unseen Companions
What this route really suggests is that bikepacking isn’t just about the rider; it’s about the world you move through. Lamb’s encounters with elk, coyotes, butterflies, and chipmunks aren’t just cute anecdotes—they’re a testament to the route’s remoteness. In my opinion, this is where La Paliza Grande truly shines. It’s not just a test of physical stamina; it’s an invitation to reconnect with the natural world. If you take a step back and think about it, how often do we get to share space with wildlife on their terms, not ours?
The Climb That Defines the Ride
The 36-mile ascent up Canjilon Mountain is the heart of this route, both literally and metaphorically. Lamb describes it as the hardest thing he’s ever done on a bike, and I believe him. What makes this particularly fascinating is the psychological toll of such a climb. The endless blowdowns, the hike-a-bike sections, the sheer relentlessness of it—it’s a mental battle as much as a physical one. But reaching the fire tower at the top? That’s the kind of moment that makes it all worth it. It’s not just a summit; it’s a metaphor for overcoming the impossible.
Why This Matters Beyond the Bike
This raises a deeper question: What does it mean to take on a route like La Paliza Grande? Is it just about the miles, the elevation, the bragging rights? I don’t think so. From my perspective, it’s about something much bigger. It’s about embracing the unknown, pushing past your limits, and finding beauty in the struggle. It’s a reminder that adventure isn’t just about the destination—it’s about the journey, the challenges, and the moments that force you to grow.
The Future of Bikepacking: A Return to Roots?
A detail that I find especially interesting is how La Paliza Grande feels like a throwback to the early days of bikepacking, when routes weren’t just about efficiency or popularity, but about exploration. As bikepacking gains mainstream attention, there’s a risk of it becoming formulaic, predictable. But routes like this one challenge that narrative. They remind us that the essence of bikepacking isn’t just about the bike—it’s about the spirit of discovery.
Final Thoughts: Why La Paliza Grande Stays With You
If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering: Is La Paliza Grande worth it? Personally, I think it’s more than worth it—it’s essential. It’s not just a bikepacking route; it’s an experience that forces you to confront yourself, to appreciate the raw beauty of the world, and to remember why we seek adventure in the first place. Lamb gave it a 9/10, but in my opinion, its impact is a perfect 10. It’s not just a ride; it’s a lesson in resilience, humility, and the enduring power of the wild.
So, will I attempt La Paliza Grande? Maybe. But what I’ll take away from it, even without riding a single mile, is the inspiration to seek out my own Big Beating—whatever form that may take. Because, at the end of the day, isn’t that what adventure is all about?
