Rift MTB – Iceland 2025: First-Ever Edition
First of all — what an honor. To take part in the very first edition of Rift MTB Iceland feels surreal, and I am beyond grateful to have been here. Riding my bike across such raw and untouched landscapes, meeting amazing people, and bringing home unforgettable memories — this is the kind of adventure I live for.
“Adventure is worthwhile in itself.” – Amelia Earhart
I love cool weather conditions for bike racing, and Iceland delivered just that: 50-degree days, some with sun, some with drizzle, fog, or light rain—and always that relentless wind.
This was also my first time racing in the Mixed Team category, and the same for my teammate Ryan. We knew each day would bring learning opportunities—how to race together, how to be as fast and efficient as possible, but also how to absorb the moment, the scenery, and the journey.
From the moment we landed until our planes took off, the Rift crew gave us true white-glove service: arranging domestic flights, picking us up at airports, transporting bikes, and storing our bags so we could enjoy Reykjavik before our flight north. Without this race, I never would have seen so many remote and spectacular places—it often felt too good to be real.
We settled into a beautiful hotel in Akureyri, right on the fjord. Each morning and evening, we were spoiled with delicious meals and surrounded by incredible people.
The atmosphere quickly became like family: racers, crew, mechanics. By the end of the week, we weren’t just participants in a race — we were part of a shared adventure.
Stage 1 – Fjord Sprint
25 miles, 2:20 hrs, 3.5k climbing
The opening stage included trails from the local bike park, tucked right behind our hotel.
We rolled out with a long road start that quickly pitched upward onto gravel, climbing higher and higher until we were above the gondolas. From there, the first descent was a playground: flowy berms into open, exposed rock slabs where you could pick any line and let it fly.
Then came one of the trickiest sections: a narrow, off-camber singletrack along the river’s edge, where one slip could send you swimming. A short metal bridge carried us safely across the water before the course pitched brutally upward — too steep to ride, forcing a grueling hike-a-bike straight into our legs.
Cresting that challenge, the reward was a ripping descent into the lower bike park — a magical Icelandic forest of mossy singletrack, lush greenery, roots, tight turns, and just enough slickness to keep every rider humble.
Ryan and I quickly learned during the gondola climb that the first Elite Mixed team was out of reach. Our real battle would be with the strong third-place team, who excelled on gravel climbs. Luckily for us, every time we hit technical descents we clawed back time, often passing them on technical bits.
The stage ended with an all-out push along the walking path skirting the fjord—wheel to wheel, grinding hard alongside our Brevard friends, Nick and Nell. Just a minute back, another mixed team was chasing fiercely. A short but savage opener, it was clear from the start that this race would be tight all week.
Stage 2 – Above the Clouds
28 miles, 2:50 hrs, 4k climbing
This time we left the hotel in the opposite direction, climbing straight out of town on a steep road. A small singletrack cut through led us onto doubletrack that climbed relentlessly. We pushed hard to stay with the front, finding ourselves alongside the leading women’s team. At one point, a huge group of schoolchildren lined the trail, reaching out their hands to clap as we rode by—it was a special moment.
The climb continued, gravel giving way to higher alpine terrain. We pushed above the gondola station, higher than the day before, until we were riding through clouds. It was the bluest, warmest day of the week, with endless panoramic views when the fog cleared.
The descent was wild: a narrow rollercoaster trail through thick brush, steep in places, dropping us back to the exposed rocks and then into the now-familiar green bike park trails.
Other teams were close, and we could hear them breathing down our necks. Once again it came down to a furious sprint to the line—this time with just a slim gap of maybe a minute. Stage two complete, and still locked in battle.
Stage 3 – The Queen Stage
39 miles, 4:23 hrs, 6.2k climbing
Our first remote start meant an early breakfast already in kit, then an hour’s bus ride through tunnels and rolling green hills toward the coast. Even the transfer was breathtaking: streams tumbling into the sea, tiny fishing villages clinging to the cliffs.
This was the Queen Stage: the longest day in both time and elevation.
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| Thank you Mucha! |
The trails weren’t bike trails at all—hiking routes and sheep tracks, raw and wild.
We rolled out from the harbor in thick fog, cold wind, mid-40s. The road tilted skyward and within minutes we were climbing into a wall of mist. Sheep darted across the trail. Groups splintered. Soon it was just us and our Brevard friends, grinding toward the top. The fog was so dense I had to take off my glasses. The descent was chaos—loose, round rocks everywhere, impossible to avoid, arm pump screaming, feet dabbing to stay upright.
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After a road stretch where Ryan pulled us back to two strong mixed teams, we climbed again—this time into true wilderness. A feed zone, then the infamous sheep trail: deep ruts, boggy turf, blueberry bushes, pushing bikes into a wall of rocks and moss. Fog swirled, voices disappeared. It was just me, the rocks, and the wind. I cursed out loud at one point —“Are there enough f***ing rocks here?!”— smiled and kept pushing.
Then, magic. We broke through the clouds into dazzling sun. Glaciers glistened between jagged peaks, blue sky above, clouds below. Out of water, exhausted, I stopped to take a video just to remember it. And then—an arrow pointing straight onto a glacier. Yes, we had to ride across it. Sliding, laughing, dodging crevasses, it was pure Icelandic madness.
The descent that followed took us through foggy ridges with twin waterfalls, fairy-tale meadows with tiny flowers, bogs, and rivers. At one point I crashed hard, pedal striking a rock and flipping, but even that felt soft, as if Iceland cradled me.
By the time we reached the fishing village finish, I was overwhelmed. I hugged Dana, the race director, and burst into tears. “It was so beautiful out there. Thank you.” Then we warmed up with bowls of hot chowder—the best of my life. This was a day I will never forget.
Stage 4 – Lava Fields of Fire
50 miles, 3:42 hrs, 2.4k climbing
Another remote start took us east through the longest tunnel I’ve ever seen, past a massive beautiful waterfall, until the world turned black.
We started in volcanic ash fields, surrounded by dark mountains. The atmosphere on the line was electric—music pumping, crews and racers dancing before the suffering began.
At one point, I launched a solo attack into the wind, hammering nearly 20 minutes to catch and pass Brevard and another mixed team. There was a a moment when we finally descended and sat for a brief moment 3rd overall for the day. But we made a wrong turn on a split of a very windy and never ending looking road, and that caused us to lose a spot. But also when Ryan rejoined after stopping at feed zone, the gravel powerhouse team surged past us like rockets. We clawed what we could, but their strength on road and gravel was unmatched.
The final stretch included smoking geothermal vents, endless headwind, and a long, lonely road climb that felt eternal. Fingers frozen, body fading, There was a small fun and slick singletracks that led us to the finish. We’d lost four minutes, but we were still in podium position. Onion soup by the harbor never tasted so good.
Stage 5 – The Ridge of Bogs
40 miles, 3:53 hrs, 5k climbing
Cold, windy, damp—the final day. Spirits were high though, the Rift crew blasting music and cheering as we rolled off across the fjord.
The first climb stretched the field. We stayed glued to the wheel of our rivals, fighting the wind as a group. It was completely white all around and the pace was strong.
The ridge was boggy, muddy, and relentless. On a stone bridge our rivals stalled—we slipped past and opened a gap on the rocky descent.
But the course wasn’t done. After a flowing gravel section and a dramatic bridge crossing, the final climb loomed: nearly an hour of grinding switchbacks. I felt dizzy, almost ready to lie down in the grass, I saw the 3rd team just below us, I knew they would get us if we didn't really work hard as a team. Ryan pushed us to the top and I dug deep.
We had done it: 2nd place in Elite Mixed Teams.
After Five Incredible Days
“Dare to live the life you have dreamed for yourself. Go forward and make your dreams come true.” – R. W. Emerson
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| Antonio and Mari |
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| Matt in action! |
The Rift crew designed an unforgettable adventure — white-glove service, raw Icelandic beauty, and trails few people ever touch. Race director Dana set the tone with kindness, fun, and endless energy. The photographers and videographers captured every moment beautifully — and along the way became friends. My husband Pax joined Matt, chasing racers and filming our adventure, always smiling and having fun, while Antonio was everywhere, capturing fantastic photos of us racing with a big, happy smile. The SRAM crew kept our bikes dialed and even played the best rock music at the finish lines.
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| Our SRAM Crew |
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| Dana. You Rock!!! |
