Photo: Yidzza Pou | Digital Art: Mike Rendel
A Life Adventure Filled with Gratitude, Joy, and Mindfulness
My Bike Journey & the Crusher EX40
Story By: Yidzza Pou
When 2024 began, one of my goals was to be consistent in my bike rides. When people ask me why I spend so much time on my bike, my answer is that riding a bike makes me happy. Why does it make me happy? Because it balances my moods, helps me focus, and pushes me beyond where I think I can go, mentally and physically. I connect with nature, explore and visit beautiful places I couldn’t reach by car, and enjoy adventures with my family and friends. I feel that every bike ride cleanses me of the toxicity of the complex world we live in. Amid so much division, I find unity and connection in the cycling community.
I’m from Puerto Rico, and in 2013, I moved to Arkansas. My husband used to mountain bike ride in Puerto Rico and brought his bike with him when we moved to the United States; I, on the other hand, had never had that experience until I got to Arkansas. Because of work, changes, and adjustments, cycling became a way to clear our minds. I remember we used to take advantage of long weekends to explore new mountain bike trails or ride along paved paths while getting to know the area and making new friends. Over time, I connected with groups of women in road biking and MTB and learned a lot from them.
In 2020, we moved to Michigan and started exploring and discovering MTB trails. Not long after, my husband got involved in the Gravel Bike community, which sparked my interest in this type of cycling. In July 2023, I had my first experience riding a gravel bike, and I loved it. I enjoyed it so much that two months later, I signed up for a 28-mile gravel race to have the experience and challenge myself, it was so much fun!
Photo: Yidzza Pou
Building Endurance and Embracing Cold Weather
At the beginning of 2024, I decided to participate in several Gravel Bike events to keep the commitment to myself: staying consistent in something fun, challenging, and beneficial for my well-being. My first event was in April, and as someone from a tropical island, my biggest challenge for spring events in Michigan was riding in cold weather. However, I understood this was my new reality and decided I wouldn’t let it hold me back. I researched the correct cycling clothing and gear for cold weather and prepared physically and mentally to participate in gravel events under those conditions. So, I started doing weekly rides of 15–20 miles in 30º–40º F weather to experiment with what worked for me regarding clothing and nutrition and to observe how my body responded. Race events happen on their planned date, no matter the conditions, and Michigan weather is unpredictable.
When I participate in cycling events, my goal is to challenge myself, enjoy the experience, and push beyond my limits. At the same time, it’s fascinating how I develop a deep connection with myself during a ride. In those moments, nothing else exists—it’s pure mindfulness.
For example, I focus on physical and mental preparation before the event. Then, during the event, I connect with my body and how it feels, practice positive self-talk, face the unpredictable weather, and respond to challenges without attaching myself to the outcome. Finally, after the event, I reflect on how I handled uncomfortable moments and what I felt during the challenge, celebrate my effort and determination, and think about how to outdo myself next time.
I feel like I have grown as a person through every event I have participated in.
By July 2024, I had completed the “Mini Courses” of four gravel events: Dirty 30, Barry Roubaix, Cow Pie Classic, and Cedar Blitz. I had so much fun with my family and friends and was eager to keep learning and enjoying the process. It also marked one year since my first experience with gravel biking.
The Invitation to the Crusher EX40
One day, while hanging out with my friends from the Lakeshore Mountain Biking Sisters group, María Carrillo-Diekema invited me to participate in “The Crusher Enhanced Gravel.” She and some group members planned to do the Crusher EX40 that same month (July 2024). At first, I said no because I had heard about the event, and it sounded too extreme for me, and I didn’t feel ready. But they were so excited, and their enthusiasm was contagious, so I said yes. However, I only had three weeks to prepare.
I had never ridden in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and didn’t know the route or what to expect, but the idea of an adventure with friends sounded too fun to pass up. Usually, I like to know the distance and route details before committing to an event, so heading into this with no information made me a bit anxious—especially with only three weeks to prepare. Still, the chance to try something new with friends felt worth the effort, so I checked out the event’s website, which thankfully had all the details I needed.
My Thoughts and Fears about The Crusher Enhanced Gravel Experience
“You are on your own. No one is out there to save you. We do not mark the course. You should not approach wildlife. In an emergency, dial 911. 906AT events will expose you to treacherous terrain, inclement weather, fatigue, and hallucinations; the activity is inherently dangerous. At some point, you will likely ride or push your bike through the night, swearing you’ll never do Crusher again. Don’t feel bad; this is normal.” (906AT Website)
As I read about the event, I began to think about all the possible scenarios – riding in the Upper Peninsula (far from home), in the middle of nowhere, searching for checkpoints within a maximum of 12 hours, on an unmarked route, with extreme terrain, no aid stations or medical assistance, and no cell phone signal. On top of that, I would be exposed to wildlife and insects like black flies, mosquitoes, deer flies, horse flies, and ticks. I also read that although the event is called The Crusher- EX40, referring to 40 miles, it’s a little bit more; our route was 65 miles. When you finish, you either get a Green Dot (FINISHER) if you finish the route with all the checkpoints in less than 12 hours or a Red Dot if you don’t finish or miss any checkpoints; they call it “unfinished business.” This was all so new and strange to me. It didn’t sound as fun as I had imagined. There was too much uncertainty, and it seemed very risky. I started creating a lot of negative scenarios in my mind, thinking about all the things that could go wrong, and I began to feel incapable of doing it. However, I had already committed, and my friends were so excited. I struggled to find a way to tell them I was hesitant because I didn’t feel ready.
While researching, I came across phrases that struck a chord with me, like: “You love adventure, enjoy community gatherings, and welcome an old-fashioned hard-as-heck challenge.” That felt like the heart of it all, and I started to see this as a unique opportunity—life offering me the chance to embrace a completely different experience.
A few days had passed since the invitation, and I was still unsure about committing, despite reading the Crusher website and Crusher Passport and talking to people who had done it before. I took time to reflect, reminding myself that I’d been consistent with my bike rides all year and could use the three weeks to prepare mentally. Still, the unknown was holding me back—especially not knowing ANYTHING about the route. I love planning because it gives me a sense of direction; I like to know what I’m getting into and have plans for every scenario. This time, though, I had the chance to prepare—for the unpredictable.
Part of me wanted to do the Crusher, but I also felt afraid of being exposed to wildlife in the middle of nowhere on a bike. I knew I had to make a final decision because I was running out of time. My friend’s excitement and support helped me with some preparations, lending me extra gear. Meanwhile, I kept thinking about possible scenarios. Some could happen, but they weren’t real—they only existed in my mind. These were fear-driven thoughts that limited me, holding me back from exposing myself to something challenging and uncomfortable. In reality, everything was ready for me to take the leap and take the risk. I recognized those fears and decided to prepare my mind to develop an inner strength that could help me through the challenging and uncomfortable moments.
During this process, I thought of a friend who was going through a cancer diagnosis. Life had presented him with a sad and unpredictable challenge—a process no one is ever prepared for. That friend, whom I love very much, inspired me to transform my fears into determination. I remember writing to check on him and learn how he was doing. His strength and attitude became the final push I needed. We talked about Crusher and my fears, and he told me, “I support you; challenges like yours help to face challenges like mine; you can do more than that.”
I realized there are difficult and uncomfortable challenges we can choose to face, and then there are others that life throws at us without warning, filled with pain and uncertainty. I understood that the most powerful tool to face them is inner strength. That strength is what sustains us, moves us, and pushes us beyond what we think we’re capable of.
Unfolding the Deep Meaning
I began to see this event with a deeper meaning—not just as a bike event but as a connection to something more spiritual.
It was an experience to overcome myself, to go beyond my physical and mental limitations, to change my inner dialogue, and to expose myself to uncomfortable scenarios willingly. It was an opportunity to confront fears and doubts and allow myself to experience something hard, find my limits, and be brave to move forward. I started to accept that I would be exposed to situations beyond my control: pedaling in the mud, getting wet while riding, dealing with mosquito bites and other insects, encountering rough terrain that might force me to dismount and push my bike, mechanical problems and even possibly coming across wild animals… all with one goal in mind, move forward. No one knew what might happen. The idea of doing this with good, adventurous, and fearless friends and my husband made me feel supported. Sharing the experience with those extraordinary people gave me even more strength and motivation, and finally, my perspective shifted; it was starting to sound like a fun adventure…
The bike adventure began to take on a deeper meaning—it transformed into a life adventure filled with gratitude and mindfulness.
The Crusher EX40 Adventure Begins
The event weekend arrived, and I felt ready to explore a different natural setting – feel and discover something new from myself and others, explore more and worry less, have fun, recognize my limits, crush my deepest insecurities, and be more grateful for every single moment.
A few days before the event, we took the chance to explore other MTB trails in the UP, floated down the Chocolay River to Lake Superior, relaxed, cleared our minds, had fun, and planned the logistics for the Crusher event. It was the first time my family (my husband, my son, and I) visited the Marquette area, and we were amazed by the beauty of the places we saw.
Photos: Yidzza Pou
Photo: Yidzza Pou
Photo: Yidzza Pou
Photos: Yidzza Pou
Crusher EX40 – Eagle Mine!
The moment arrived –
I woke up at 5 a.m. to have a good breakfast and prepare everything I needed for the event: food, snacks, hydration drinks, nutrition, bug spray, water, and a water filter, as it was very likely that I’d run out and have to collect water from a lake or river, I did not forget my bear spray, either! Haha, just in case…
My husband and I made sure we both had the route in our GPS, and I added the checkpoints as a POI; it was 65 miles, and I didn’t want to get lost. While some friends had the route on their bike computers, I knew I was responsible for myself. We were ready to help each other but also understood that individual preparation was key. I packed other recommended gear for adventures like this. I felt ready, filled with joy and excitement, and supported by 11 adventurous souls who shared the same spirit.
As soon as we started pedaling, I noticed the different types of terrain. We descended rocky downhills, pedaled through deep sand, crossed puddles, and passed a bridge that begged to be crossed quickly without overthinking—because it was in such poor condition.
While I pedaled, I couldn’t stop smiling. I was having such a good time—even when it got tough. I had prepared for those rough moments, so I just laughed at myself at how I handled those moments while making jokes to keep the vibe up.
Everything I was experiencing was unforgettable, even though it remained challenging. I remember that in moments of struggle or discomfort, I thought about Todd Poquette, 906 Adventure Team Director and creator of the Crusher event. I asked myself: At what point did he think it was a good idea to carry your bike through Lake Superior? Or to bike up to Michigan’s highest point, Mt. Arvon? Or to descend those endless, rocky, eroded downhills where water had carved massive ruts? But he did, and it turns out those brave, adventurous souls found it fun and even invited others like me—someone quite new to this kind of event who couldn’t have imagined that biking through places like this was even possible.
Photo: Yidzza Pou
Every time we reached a checkpoint, we had to take photos as evidence for the green dot, check the route map, have some food, make sure everything was in good condition, go to the “bathroom,” and get ready for the next checkpoint. For me, every checkpoint was a small victory that added to the greater joy: finishing strong.
I took advantage of the smooth terrain to hydrate and fuel up. When it got very technical, I just focused on getting through it; I was even more focused on what was happening the whole time. However, the one thing that took my concentration away was crossing the Huron River, where it meets Lake Superior.
I couldn’t stop thinking about whether the water would be too deep, very cold, or if there would be any currents… I tortured myself with all these thoughts. But when it came time to cross, the water was very refreshing, and although it’s not always like this, the water level wasn’t that deep.
So, I took off my shoes to keep them dry and followed behind the others as best as possible because everything gets distorted in the water, and there’s no clear path. I was so excited when I reached the other side; I had passed one of my biggest worries.
Photo: Yidzza Pou
Photos: Yidzza Pou
Photo: Yidzza Pou
However, the biggest challenge came afterward. After crossing the water, we had to ride through loose, deep sand for quite a while until we reached a paved road where we had to ride several miles against the wind. I don’t remember much about that part; I just recall feeling like it would never end. My thoughts fluctuated, but I decided to focus on the fact that I knew there would come a point where it would get tough, and I just had to keep going. I focused on pedaling without rushing, but without stopping, either, so I wouldn’t waste time.
By this stage of the course, we were all, in some way or another, facing a challenge. We were moving at our own pace and waited for each other at the intersections. At one point, we stopped to support those who needed it; everyone respected that recovery space with great understanding.
We were all pushing our limits, but part of being in a group meant helping each other keep going. We knew we had to keep pedaling; there was still a long way to go, and we didn’t know the conditions of the remaining course or how long it would take to finish. Our shared goal as a group was clear: to finish before the cut-off.
After leaving that road, we reached mile 37, and it was time to climb Mt. Arvon, the highest point in Michigan, with an elevation of 1,979 feet. I remember the climb seemed endless until my legs couldn’t take it anymore, and I decided to get off my bike and continue walking.
We climbed for five miles nonstop, tackling that incredibly steep slope. During this stretch, my thoughts wavered between doubt and determination. At one point, I found myself alone; some were further ahead, others behind. I couldn’t see or hear them. The only sounds were my footsteps on the ground and the wheels of my bike.
Despite being alone, I felt calm. I had my route on my bike computer and knew they would be waiting for me at the summit. Everyone was moving at their own pace; it wasn’t a competition. The goal was simply to keep pushing, as the clock was ticking, and we needed to finish within 12 hours. Missing the time limit would mean not earning the green dot, and completing the event was part of each of our personal goals.
Finally, we reached the summit checkpoint of Mt Arvon. We celebrated, took a photo as evidence, and refueled. It was another victory, another joy added to the journey.
Photo: Yidzza Pou
Then came the descent… long downhills in the worst conditions: loose rocks, eroded gravel, and steep slopes.
After that technical and challenging descent, there were still a few climbs left, and my body was starting to feel it.
We had one last checkpoint to reach—a crashed airplane hidden in the forest. We had to leave our bikes on the route and walk in the woods to take a picture of the plane wreckage. I used this final stop to stretch my lower back, loosen my hips, and roll my shoulders and neck, trying to release some of the accumulated tension. By then, I had been riding or pushing my bike for about ten hours. We were around mile 50.
I was thrilled with everything we had accomplished so far. I had collected all the checkpoints, and now, all that remained was reaching the finish line before the cutoff time. However, I reminded myself to stay focused and positive, as there were still 15 miles of uncertainty ahead.
Once back on the route, the dangerous downhills kept me engaged and focused; I was excited knowing we were getting closer to completing the challenge.
But about five miles later, I started to feel weak while climbing a long hill. My husband noticed and asked how I was feeling. I told him I was tired but OK. He kept an eye on me and asked if I had eaten anything. At that moment, it hit me—I knew exactly what was happening: I hadn’t eaten anything since we reached the top of Mt. Arvon.
I forgot something crucial: eating and refueling. At the last checkpoint, I was so focused on releasing the tension in my body that I neglected my nutrition. I had been so distracted by the route and the discomfort in my body that I had completely overlooked my nutrition. So, while pushing my bike up the hill, I began eating on the go, knowing we couldn’t stop without risking missing the cutoff time. After eating, I felt an immediate boost. I regained strength, allowing me to get back on the bike and pedaling with renewed energy.
Photo: Yidzza Pou
The Final Stretch
Further ahead, I noticed on my map that we were about to leave the woods and reach a road. I got so excited! I enjoyed the beautiful landscapes and views but desperately needed a break from the endless climbs, downhills, and extreme terrain. Seeing that straight, flat road on my map gave me hope that we were finally leaving the worst behind.
However, to my surprise, that flat, straight road on the map turned out to be our last five miles of pedaling through sand. “Eternal” doesn’t even begin to describe it! It was a long, sandy, boring road with no interesting views or shade. I had let myself get carried away by the illusion that the straight line on the map meant something easy. My tired mind had forgotten that nothing is predictable.
During those last five miles, my thoughts oscillated between determination—“I can do this”—and frustration, “I hate pedaling in the sand; I’m not making any progress; I feel like I’m stuck in the same place.” Everyone was moving at their own pace, and most of the group was ahead of us. My husband, riding with me, asked if I wanted help catching up to them, and I said yes.
He placed his hand on my back, and together, we pedaled until we caught up with the group. I remember their laughs when we just passed them fast together. It was such a special and fun moment that gave me an emotional boost in the middle of all that sand.
One of my greatest fears was encountering bears, wolves, or other wild animals. I had heard so many stories about it and had no idea how I would react if it happened. Thankfully, it didn’t—no wild animals crossed our path. Yay!
We were almost there! It was a truly beautiful and very emotional moment for me. We made it! It was a beautiful ending to such an intense and meaningful experience! Regrouping at the end, on a hill, to finish together exactly where it all began not only symbolizes everyone’s achievement but also the power of teamwork, mutual support, and camaraderie.
It’s as if the journey’s end represented more than just a finish line: it was the closure of a transformative adventure, a reminder that I faced it with COURAGE and shared it with special people.
That moment on the hill will be in my memory forever; I felt pride, relief, connection, and gratitude. Finishing together reflects what truly matters: the process, the lessons learned, and the friendships that grew stronger along the way. And there waiting for us was Diego, two of our dear friends, and Maria Diekema, the person who invited me to have this life-changing experience.
Looking Back
I can’t compare The Crusher EX40 to any other event I’ve ever participated in. From the very beginning, it felt unique: there was no external support, no signs marking the route, no facilities, and no places to buy water or food. On top of that, having no phone signal throughout the entire experience added an extra layer of uncertainty and challenge.
It was truly a one-of-a-kind, authentic, and unpredictable adventure. Every participant had their purposes and intentions. For me, this experience had a deeply meaningful significance; it wasn’t just a bike ride. It was an opportunity to completely disconnect from my normal life and immerse myself in an experience that demanded me to be fully present in every aspect of my being.
Throughout the event, I constantly observed my thoughts, spoke to myself positively, stayed aware of everything around me, and embraced the unknown with determination. I pushed my physical and mental limits while allowing myself to enjoy the journey with my friends and husband.
This event gave me the chance to ride with a different purpose. It was such a powerful experience that even after finishing, I couldn’t stop reflecting on what I lived through and the internal battles I overcame.
I think when people do events like CrusherEX, it is difficult to return to the old way of life after experiencing what we experienced. It’s an adventure for life. As Todd says, it’s training for life.
I had the opportunity to talk with Todd Poquette, Crusher and 906 Adventure Team director, after this experience. He told me that 906AT events are intentionally designed to mimic life: unpredictable, variable, hard, ugly (he used another word) vistas, highs, lows… It is an opportunity for a person to learn a lot about themselves, their ego, their mental game, and their physical resilience.
They want the events to break you down so you rebuild stronger.
Photo: Yidzza Pou
About the Author
Yidzza Pou is an illustrator and fabric designer whose journey into art is deeply rooted in her past as a Massage Therapist and Yoga Instructor, a career she pursued for 15 years in Puerto Rico and Arkansas. Those experiences instilled in her a profound appreciation for self-care, mindfulness, and the connection between body and spirit—values that now inspire her creative work. Today, Yidzza focuses full-time on her art, crafting nature-inspired designs that reflect her love for the outdoors. She finds endless inspiration in her cycling and hiking adventures throughout West Michigan, often shared with her husband, their rescue dog, their curious 8-year-old son and also their adventurous friends. Through her designs, Yidzza seeks to celebrate beauty, connection, and the joy of exploration. Discover her work and follow her creative journey on:
Intragram- https://www.instagram.com/yidzza.pou
Online shop- https://www.etsy.com/shop/yidpoudesigns
