White Rim in a Day | April '26
Emalee enjoys the mountains and sunlit valleys of Boise and uses this as a backdrop for her photography business, Emaleemariephoto.com. As a Boise lifestyle photographer, she specializes in photographing familes and weddings, crafting emotive & story driven images. She has called Boise home her whole life and enjoys pedaling Idaho as much as she enjoys taking photos of it.
By Emalee Marie
White Rim in a Day
My review of the desert century that really takes it out of you but gives back tenfold in views if you're patient enough.
I will start by saying that when my friend & coach Ben told me that the white rim was the hardest 100 miles he had done I didn’t really take him too seriously (as I have a bad habit of doing a a-lot of things that I should in fact take more seriously).
It's just 100 miles?
Which is just 50x 2, which is just 25x 4… something like that. Bike riding math obviously. The thing about the White Rim is that you are just completely out there, there’s no mental or visual “break” in the route. You ride 50 miles out into the desert where there’s nothing and then you do it all over again.
After a short rally ride on Wednesday evening, and a cold night of sleep in our cars, the four of us left camp at 6:30am. The first 16 or so miles are on a gravel road, fairly laid back rolling hills, so a good way to get warm, but you definitely find yourself wondering “where the heck does this begin”. I think that is what I liked most about the White Rim was how different it is on top versus being at the bottom of the canyon. I had the same “where the heck does this end” experience at the end of the day. It really forces you to just enjoy the ride right where you are. But soon enough you hit the infamous downhill, and get your first “ok this is cool” viewpoint.
The following miles went by really quickly, they were fast, smooth, and we all stayed together. At about 20 miles (honestly I might by off here) we hit one of the notable climbs. I believe I heard Ken refer to it as “Heartbreaker Hill.” Talk about getting steep fast, I ended up being okay with the large trucks trying to creatively “unstuck” themselves that stopped us… walking works for me ha ha… The downhill from the top is pretty glorious, although I did have a short lived moment where I questioned bringing my Salsa Fargo. There’s nothing crazy on this route that warrants a ton of suspension, but after doing the whole thing I can see why many people opt for it. The Fargo has a bit in the front but by the end of the day my wrists were feeling all the impact.
Everybody was beginning to split apart at this point, and we were all at varying points across what was a fairly flat, varying in sand/textured rock stretch. I remember getting a little lonely at this point (mile 40?) and saw Ken just across the canyon so I took a moment to wait for him. Wind and sand are absolutely soul crushing for me on long days.
Something about wind pushing sand back into my face and going so slow when I am trying so hard….is just….the word I want to use is: dehumanizing, but thats a little dramatic.
Finally we reached the “half way point” climb, which was a bit brutal. What I found hard about the climbs on the white rim is unlike much of what I’ve done (long, sustained 7-11% grade), these are shorter, sandier, rockier, with punchy sections closer to 25-30% (take this with a grain of sand, pun not intended) and thats freaking hard.
Finally reaching the top I settled down for a minute to eat, a giant desert Raven next to me for the full experience. We all watched Kara heading up the climb (she did so good!), I was feeling super grateful that it was her and not me anymore haha.
As mentioned earlier, this being the halfway point in the ride and there just being nothing did get to me. It’s just like….oh gosh…doing it all over again. Ken and I headed downhill towards another exposed stretch of the route. I would consider this my low point of the ride, the resistance of the sand was frustrating me and I was feeling those “throw my bike off the cliff” thoughts (I’m dramatic I know). I sat there for a while just to give myself a mental break, hoping maybe Kara and I would link up soon, but I didn’t ever see her. Back on my bike trying to just get over it, I thankfully hit that wonderful second wind, my mind seemed to accept another 45 miles, my legs also understanding the situation.
Funny enough following my least favorite part of the day, was the best part. The trail got so fast and smooth here, clouds rolled in, occasionally hitting those textured sections of patina & baby head boulders, my favorite type of riding on the Fargo. I passed some of the best views between miles 60-80, the canyon opened up on the sides to show off these vast chasms full of red and orange rocks, and the rich greenery of springtime.
One of my favorite characteristics about the desert is the way its “massiveness” demands respect.
The walls and towers that rise above you, and the depth of everything below you is in full perspective.
I turned a corner around mile 85, beginning to wonder where the climb out was. Knowing that this route was only 100 miles and seeing that from every side I was incredibly far down in the canyon still, I started to get a little intimidated by the climb out, wherever it was. But again like I said earlier, the white rim kept me guessing all day, which also kept me present. Inevitably I did reach the beginning of the climb, I love how many times I’ve wondered where a climb is only to be like “oh yeah there’s the obviously gigantic climb to the summit, ugh.” I was so tired at this point in the day, and knew that I just needed to keep moving so I walked that entire hill. At one point I heard Kara’s voice shouting from a car driving upwards “do you want a ride?!”, “I mean absolutely, but I’m stubborn so no.” I had slight regrets watching her drive off.
Reaching the top of the canyon I saw Ben with his van ready to give me a ride back to which I said I just wanted to finish the gravel, of course when we got to that point Ben said “camp is 8 miles up the road, have fun!”, “Bennnnnn, uggghhhh.” Those miles really sucked, I think that was the longest 8 miles I’ve ever ridden in my life actually hah, but I am really grateful he did that for me, knowing how I’d feel about my effort later if I didn’t push myself to finish.
