One of the greatest aspects of bikepacking is that its self-determined nature tends to dismantle ideas that there is a ‘correct’ way to enjoy a bike ride. Some riders choose to push the limits physically, red-lining to complete a journey in as short a time as possible; while others opt to take their time and enjoy smelling the roses.
Running for the third time in 2025, the Sydney to Summit is a self-supported bikepacking trip that challenges its participants to complete a set route from the Sydney Opera House to the highest point in Australia -the summit of Mt Kosciuszko.
The 700-odd-kilometre route ushers its riders through a spectacular array of scenes -from fast sweeping roads that wind through coastal towns and farmland to unforgivingly steep and rutted out fire roads and bridle trails. Like its big brother, the Hunt 1000, the Sydney to Summit is set up with a grand finish in mind. Riders this year must choose their own starting date with the aim to all finish together on the 1st March. 
When my mate Brendan and I float the idea of giving the event a chop, we agree that the best approach for us is going to sit somewhere in the Goldilocks zone (not too hard, but not too soft). Neither of us are shy about putting in big days on the bike, but by the same token we are not that interested in opening the suitcase of suffering to the point of missing out on scenery or an opportunity for an arvo swim in a waterhole.
After the finalised route is published on the 15th February, I draw up a plan to have us finish in 7-8 days. We’re roughly looking at 100km per day with about 1800vm of climbing. The best bit is we end up passing through a town or re-supply option most days, meaning we can run a little bit leaner with our packed food and saving us premium space on our bikes. I throw some fresh tyres, brake pads and rotors on my machine; replenish my repair kit and pack it into a soft bike bag.
We transfer from Brisbane to Sydney Central the day before we intend to set off, assembling our bikes in Belmore Park as the weather drizzles. Brendan discovers that one of his brake rotors has been bent while in transit so, along with checking into a hostel and putting our bike bags in storage, we have to source a replacement rotor. Thanks to the legends at Wheely Convenient/Chop Shop in Chippendale this doesn’t turn into a drama at all. Despite the miserable weather, spirits are high and we’re keen to hit the road. We grab a feed and a couple of beers and head back to our hostel.
Our first day starts early. We meander through a dark and still Sydney City and take obligatory photos of our loaded rigs in front of the Opera House right as day is breaking. We check the event tracking and realise that we are less than an hour behind a small group of others. With a bit of urgency heading southward out of the city; we catch Bruce, Obi, and Etienne on the first ferry out of Cronulla.
We introduce ourselves on the ferry and quickly start talking bikes -each build and setup is personalised differently by its rider. There are suspension and rigid forks, frames of titanium and steel, drop bars and flat bars, racks with panniers, bar bags, rolls, tyres ranging from fast 42s to my own heavy duty 2.8s -even a pinion gearbox.
The previous day’s rain is now a distant memory, the sun sitting with aplomb in the clear blue sky by the time we disembark the ferry. The others ride ahead while Brendan and I stop to brew up some coffee before we get into the day’s highlight -a spirited trundle through a multi-use trail in the Royal National Park. Being mostly on tarmac for the rest of the day keeps us pressing forward at a good clip. We only stop at a little coastal cafe where another of the riders is catching a breather. This is Norm -the madman is attempting the event on a unicycle. His smile is contagious and we hear about his experience off-road in the National Park. We set up camp just outside of Wollongong.
A westward swing the following day guides us through Jamberoo and up a proper climb -Saddleback Mountain. We’re relaxed though and tap our way up to the lookout to soak up a pretty special view. The route then dumps us off the mountain, down a rocky chute of a descent that my big tyres eat up. My loaded set up does not count its calories and weighs close to 30kg. It descends like a missile and you cannot get the smile off my face. We’re sent up a real nasty but short hike-a-bike before a final glorious road descent into Kangaroo Valley
Day three takes us up Mt Scanzi and through Bugong, Nowra, and Yalwal. I put a bit too much mustard on at the start of the day and by the time we get close to our goal of Tianjara Falls I am well beyond bonked. It starts to rain as we make camp off the side of the trail and I curl up under my quilt.
Determined to not repeat the prior day’s performance I start day four a bit more relaxed. It’s pretty easy to do so with a beautiful heavy fog in the air. Once we turn into Budawang National Park with its dewy rainforest canopies, cushy red clay and shaley rock garden passages; the vibes soar through the roof. We encounter Scout & Co: Jess, Kerryn, and Sam; stopping for a quick chat. They are running more gravel-oriented setups -no doubt quicker on most surfaces than mine and Brendan’s MTB leaning rigs, but definitely comparatively struggling on our current terrain. Out of the National Park, we hit Charleys Forest Road and make it to Braidwood for the night. Scout & Co make it into town a couple hours later.
It’s not long before we are getting roasted by the heat on day five. We shelter from the midday sun in the pub at Captain’s Flat and enjoy a couple of beers at the longest bar (it’s pretty bloody long!) We push on through the heat. It’s brutal, but Brendan and I did most of our training for this ride through the summer in Brisbane so we are pretty well conditioned for it. Brendan’s keen GPS skills allow us to find an extremely welcome little swimming hole just off the trail that we cool off in and set up our tents nearby.
Lunch the next day is in Cooma. We run into Bruce at the pub who has unfortunately had to scratch. He tells us that his son, Obi, has plans to end the day at Buckenderra. We set our sights for the same and give chase. It’s another hot one and Obi messages us letting us know that he is near a small shop that is about to shut. We put an order in for ice cream and a couple of cokes and accelerate.
Obi greets us when we reach the camp ground at Buckenderra. He’s joined by Gary, who started a couple of days before us and has been steadily and methodically plugging away. We all catch up a bit and Gary sets off to make a bit more ground into the night while Obi, Brendan and I feed and get a night’s sleep.
We’re almost exclusively uphill from here, Obi makes us a trio now and we pass a cheery Gary early on the next day. The long sustained fire road climbs are a slog but give us some spectacular scenery. I cop my only mechanical of the trip -a snapped voile strap on my handlebar bag is repaired with a trusty zip tie. We make camp at Island Bend and get another swim in. Gary makes it there later in the day and we take in a very relaxing afternoon lazing about in the grass and eating the rest of our food.
There’s not much distance to cover on our final day which takes us up Kosciuszko via Smiggins, Perisher, and Charlotte’s Pass. Etienne, who has monstered his way to finishing the previous day, is waiting by the side of the road at the pass, offering encouraging hugs and cold cokes. As Obi, Brendan and I tap out the last kilometres the mood is quiet and contemplative. I try to absorb the scenery and the moment. Bikes are not permitted on the final stretch of the route so we park up and continue on foot.
Reaching the summit finds me a bit overwhelmed. To reach the end of the route has been the goal the whole time, but my mind wanders backward over the last week and finds its own snapshots from the trip: Chewing stem and feeling amazing smashing it over champagne gravel. Wanting to throw my rig off the side of a mountain after shoving up a 25% incline in the hot sun for what felt like hours. Yarns in various states of delirium and exhaustion.
The journey colliding with its terminus is definitely strange but special -especially at 2200 meters. The view is unreal and the day is crystal clear.
Heading back down to Charlotte’s Pass, we again meet Etienne at the hotel. Route creator, Dan Hunt, turns up in his ute with Bruce riding shotgun. We get a lift down to Jindabyne and grab a table at Jindabyne Brewing. Slowly but surely, the table fills up as riders are shuttled down. Piecing everyone’s journey together is great. A couple of the fast riders, Marco and Nickos, get in. They’ve completed the route in half the time it took Brendan and I and their stories are completely different to ours. We stay until kick out time getting merry.
Truly it’s the most ripper thing to share in an event like this. Everyone’s differing approach emphasizes just how individual and beaut the bike really is. Your journey is your own, and any approach is valid. If you’ve ever thought of giving cycle touring or bikepacking a go, you should. If it’s been a while since your last trip, maybe think about making the next one happen -whether it’s an event like the Sydney to Summit or an adventure of your own design.
Thanks to Dan Hunt and all of the riders and folk involved in this year’s Sydney to Summit. Hopefully I’ll be seeing you all down the track somewhere.
-Mike E