‘Everesting’ wasn’t tough enough, so I completed the Everest Roam

Why climb one mountain when you can climb all of them? This is the principle behind the Everest Roam.

Everesting is a challenge whereby a rider completes repeats of the same climb until they’ve accumulated the vertical ascent of Mount Everest – that’s 8,848 meters (or 29,029 feet).

The format was first introduced in 2014 by Australian cyclist Andy van Bergen. Since then, it’s become so popular it’s transcended cycling, with athletes ‘Everesting’ in running, stair climbing and even rock climbing.

THE PLANNING IS HALF THE BATTLE

As a randonneur—or Audaxer in the UK— and ultra-distance cyclist, I’m not afraid of a tough day out. I’ve finished multiple 1200km, 600km and 400km events, so the thought of riding all day, night, and the following morning wasn’t too daunting. The idea of doing all that and hitting just about every hill, valley, and dell on my way back home? That’s a different story.

There’s perhaps a reason the original Everast challenge utilises hill reps. As you can imagine, finding a route where you can accumulate almost 9,000m without turning into a 1000km adventure isn’t easy. And depending on where you live, it could be downright impossible. So the Everest Roam really does start where most epic adventures begin—your computer.

Winding roads for the Everest Roam

One of the endless climbs we conquered during this ride. Just outside of Napa, California

(Image credit: Lisa Charlebois)

Living in Northern California, we’re lucky (depending on how you look at it) to have an endless array of mountain ranges right in our backyard. When it came to figuring out how to stack up the meters, it was about calculating where. Not how.

Next were the logistics. Randonneuring is famous for its unsupported philosophy. However, for a Roam, this is nearly impossible. The idea of carrying anything extra seemed diabolical, not to mention the fact that I’d be riding throughout the night, in remote areas, where access to food and water would be tough. Support was going to be essential.

With this in mind, the best option was a point-to-point route. Starting north in a town called Geyserville, located in the lush Sonoma wine country, I’d essentially be “riding home” to San Francisco, making detours for every climb between there and here.

Lisa Charlebois' XLab bike ahead of her Everest Roam — A climbing bike through and through, with a little added flair by yours truly.

For a ride built entirely around going up, up, up, weight matters. Which meant I wanted the lightest build I could find. I went with the XDS X-LAB RT9—a true climbing machine at just 5.9kg (13 lbs) for a size small. Light, stiff, perfect. To help keep the legs spinning, the bike was set up with a 1:1 gear ratio (50/34 in the front and 11/34 in the back) on a Dura-Ace Di2 groupset.

I used two Exposure bike lights, ensuring I had some built-in fail-safes. The extra light comes in handy on nighttime descents, illuminating up the entire road like a car’s headlight. Finally, I used Apidura’s race frame bags to carry my on-bike essentials, while still keeping the overall weight as light as possible.

Having a coffee during the Everest Roam

The golden rule of any long ride. Don’t stand when you can sit. Don’t sit when you can lie down

(Image credit: Lisa Charlebois)

Fueling an effort like this is just as critical as the route itself. I aimed for 80 to 90 grams of carbs per hour, creating my own fueling recipe of 60g from my carb drink and the other 20-30g from Swedish candy, Twinkies, crisps, honestly, whatever I could get my hands on. There’s no elegant strategy at 2am. There’s just what’s in front of you.

The final piece was finding some folks to join the adventure. We had six intrepid riders sign up. Two opted for a half Everest while the other four decided to go the distance. Who was at the finish line? Spoiler alert—just me and another cyclist.

THE RIDE….

riders from behind during the Everest Roam

The adventure kicked off promptly as we rolled out at 6:05am, just as the morning sun was starting to poke through the vineyards. I began the ride with three other women, with three guys due to join later.

It wasn’t long before the terrain began to pitch up, and the first few climbs served as a wake-up call. It’s tough to describe what it’s like to look down at your computer and see a number like 26,722 feet worth of ascent remaining. Plus, a cool double century on top of it.

Whilst I’ve completed many long-distance events, this one was going to represent a major challenge. So, it was critical to think of this ride in different chunks. One hill. One 10-mile stretch. One rest stop at a time. Breaking the ride up into four distinct chapters really helped — all of a sudden, this monumental task was approachable.

As the miles and hours wore on, the climbs took their victims, and before nightfall, it was just me and my friend Evan, leapfrogging each other up the road. I was faster on the climbs. He was faster on the descents.

Eventually, we got gapped, and it was time for some solo miles. I’m a pretty social person, so this kind of “me time” is my own personal hell. To stay focused, I relied on plenty of positive self-talk, a gratitude mindset (feeling lucky to be fit enough to take on an endeavor like this) and of course, plenty of music to keep spirits high.

Riders during the night during the Everest Roam

Before long, the ride had stretched into the night shift. At around 10pm, after several solo hours, I pulled into our SAG wagon that had created a makeshift rest stop. My friend Evan had already gone up the road, and I was bracing myself for another six hours of lonely miles. Suddenly, my support crew kicked into a whole new gear. My husband was putting on his bike kit from his much more humane ride earlier that day, and was going to finish the remaining 75 miles with me. To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement. Tears welled up, and I couldn’t help but let the emotions flow.

It’s certainly not the first time I’ve cried on a long ride. Not because of pain, oftentimes because of sheer overwhelm. Your emotions are heightened in these moments. Everything becomes amplified, and even the smallest act of kindness is enough to leave you in a puddle of tears.

Reflecting on the lower points of the ride feels strange, because if I’m honest, in my body I felt strong the whole time. Sure, there were moments that tested me and 25% grades that had me questioning all my life decisions. But with some good training in the legs and some great company, the ride pretty darn fun.

a rest stop during Everest Roam effort — Staying warm in the back of the SAG wagon sometime around midnight

After all, if you want to see who your true friends are, do an ultra event. I was blown away by the support I had and the lengths my friends went to ensure my safety. As we got closer to San Francisco, the iconic Golden Gate Bridge nearly in view, our friend Adele, who had been driving the SAG car since 10am the previous day, hopped on her bike to escort us home.

At 4:45am I was over the bridge and finished. I had successfully completed an Everest Roam.

To Roam, or not to Roam

finishers after the Everest Roam — Finishers and our incredible support crew (left to right): Richard Andrew, Adele Gower, Evan Lih, Annemarije Santman

If you’ve been thinking about Everesting, but the idea of riding the same hill sounds like punishment, the Roam is genuinely the better option. It will test your ability to plan, adapt, and keep going. But the feeling at the end makes it all worthwhile.

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge with my friends beside me, I wasn’t thinking about elevation gains or finishing times. I was thinking about how lucky I am to have people willing to drive a SAG car for 18 hours and hop on a bike at midnight just to make sure I got home. That’s what ultra events do. They show you who your people are. And mine showed up at 10pm with a bike and no hesitation. In the nearly 20 hours of riding, that was the moment that mattered most.