The Grand Loop is back, and with it, a region is awakening. Filmmaker and ultra-distance cyclist Gregg Dunham returns to Colorado’s West End to witness the Grand Loop Race’s revival. What he found was more than just a race; it was a movement, reshaping forgotten trails and a forgotten town into something enduring.
In the western fringe of Colorado, where the mountains meet the high desert, and canyon walls whisper histories, tire treads find their way along ancient mining scars, something rare is stirring. As the sun beamed over the peaks above Nucla this May, the Grand Loop Race returned once again, not as a spectacle but as a quiet pilgrimage.
The Loop and the Land
On May 30th, 2025, more than 60 cyclists gathered to tackle the legendary Grand Loop. It was astonishing to see such a turnout for a race only three years into its rebirth. Many strong riders showed up and pushed the envelope. Kurt Refsnider set a new Fastest Known Time, while Nicolette Jones made history with a new women’s FKT. Frances Hacker became the first non-binary rider to complete the Grand Loop Race, and Jay Petervary returned to ultra-racing after months recovering from a tragic accident. It was a landmark moment in the history of an already legendary route.
The Grand Loop was formed in the mid-90s through the efforts of COPMOBA and the BLM by braiding the Kokopelli, Paradox, and Tabeguache Trails. A time when massive trail projects like the Kokopelli were planned, built, and formalized within a calendar year.
Back in 1994, Bill Harris and friends coined the term “Grand Loop” during a six-day ride. “We didn’t do the full loop like these racers,” Bill told me, “We did 243 miles in six days. It was a recreational ride.” Seeing 60+ riders gather this year filled him with pride. “It does my heart good to see that. It’s kind of made that progression. So yeah, it’s neat.”
By 2001, famed ultra-cycling racer Mike Curiak kicked off the original Grand Loop race, starting at his house in Grand Junction, CO. The prize for finishers? Ice cream provided by Mike in exchange for stories. The Grand Loop was one of the earliest routes to be called a bikepacking race. For years, it was legend: 360+ miles of heat, snow, deadfall, hike-a-bike, and haunted country.
This route is notoriously difficult to complete. A forgotten edge of the map, threaded with old mining scars and crumbling roads to nowhere. Its challenges go beyond terrain. The desert and mountain weather windows are unforgiving. Some years, snow still clings to the plateau while desert temps soar past 100º. Completing the Grand Loop is often about timing and luck just as much as strength and skill. As Kurt Refsnider said, “It’s a route unlike any other, just with how remote and how rugged and how beautiful and how raw it is. And I just really enjoy the riding out there for some reason.”
In 2009, the final Grand Loop Race happened. Other popular and more accessible bikepacking events overshadowed this remote and rugged route.
A Race and a Rebirth
I was drawn to the 2023 revival largely because of the lore. That first year back, we couldn’t complete the loop due to snowpack and impassable sections near the plateau’s upper rim. I left empty-handed but full-hearted and ignited by the landscape, stirred by the people. I came for a race but fell in love with the region.
In 2024, I returned and finally closed the loop. The finish didn’t feel like a victory; it felt like induction. I’d become a small part of history in this humble, stubborn sport of ultra-distance bikepack racing.
This year, 2025, as I sat at home watching Trackleaders fill with names: dreamers, dirtbags, first-timers, legends. I couldn’t stay away. I had to return because something special was in the air.
Boy, was I right.
Every movement needs a spark. In the West End, that spark is Tim Tait.
Tim didn’t set out to resurrect a legendary bikepacking race; he was just trying to bring people to a place he loved. Of the West End, he remarked: “It’s like this interesting combination of things, when they come together, they create a pretty cool place. like the quiet solitude, but also a small, strong community.” “Everything’s a little bit harder. Which is cool. More free time, and then, you know, lots of room to explore.”
As a cyclist and organizer, he saw the Grand Loop not just as a brutal testpiece, but as a story waiting to be retold. One that could bring people into this rugged corner of Colorado and invite them to see its value. Not as an escape, but as a home. “It was just kind of serendipitous that I had some event background. I like to ride bikes long distances, and the Grand Loop is right there.” The more he dove into the history of this legendary route, the more he longed to bring it back to the community. “What’s been fun is that most of the bikebacking community just kind of jumped back in with it.”
The West End Rises
This story isn’t just about speed records or dirt-covered grit. It’s also about a place. About a corner of Colorado that’s being quietly, lovingly reimagined by the very people who never gave up on it.
The West End of Colorado, particularly the towns of Nucla and Naturita, were shaped by uranium mining booms that came and went like desert storms. When the industry vanished, it left behind more than abandoned mines. It left roads, raw veins of access and adventure.
The West End Trails Alliance (WETA) is transforming those roads. They’re turning forgotten industrial scars into passageways of purpose. “Everything we’re riding out here was once part of the mining industry,” says Tim Tait, WETA board member. These community members are reimagining it. Not erasing that past, but building on it.
That building is both literal and metaphorical. The Sawtooth and Naturita Flats singletrack project, now underway, will bring 55 miles of fresh singletrack to the region. It’s a vision not just of recreation, but of reinvention.
Western Dreams
On my first day arriving in the West End this year, I walked into the Flying Bear Pizzeria at Naturita Bicycle Co. Inside, WETA board members Brock Benson and Paul Koski were enjoying mid-day beers and working on trail grants. The place buzzed with vision; the air, warm and electric.
Brock Benson, West End native, WETA president, and founder of Paradox Cycle, looked up from his laptop and remarked: “I think one of the magical things about the West End is everything gets stripped away, and your biggest obstacles are the ones you create for yourself. So there’s this kind of leveling of the playing field where you have this real spirit, and we have that spirit here. If you can build it with your own two hands and breathe life into it, you can do that here.”
Paul Koski, a long-time West End resident and WETA board member, is a large reason there is a Paradox Trail. His love of the West End community bleeds through every conversation. “It’s a tough place to be. It’s a tough place to ride a bike. It’s a tough place to make a living. But if you’re resilient, if you’re able to kind of maneuver your life, to adapt, I guess adaptability is the key. We’re going through a constant renaissance.”
These folks know how to give back to their community. The people of the West End believe actions speak louder than words. It’s refreshing to see these leaders pour so much into their local trails and find a way forward through cycling.
“When I came back,” Brock said, “I felt this overwhelming burden to lift up the community… to stand up for the kids and give them something here that wasn’t just about leaving.”
He’s done just that, launching programs to teach youth mountain biking skills and rehoming over 50 bikes to kids in the area. “We can’t keep shutting off opportunities for our kids. So for grassroots guys like Paul and me to come in with trail building and youth programs, it’s super important. Because mining isn’t going to come back. We want something sustainable so people can stay here, kids can stay here, and businesses can stay here.”
It’s hard to describe the feeling of watching a race like the Grand Loop roll out from a town like Nucla in the West End of Colorado. Something is taking shape here. It feels historic. It is historic. And now, it’s becoming regenerative.
Echoes and Futures
In my upcoming short documentary Echoes of the West End, I tried to capture that feeling, the sense that this place is both rooted in its past and burning with a new kind of life.
Locals like Nick Badovinac, the owner of The Flying Bear Pizzeria and Bicycle Company and WETA board member, and a key player in designing Moab’s Captain Ahab trail, are now investing in the West End’s next chapter. “The vision that WETA has of what the West End could be was the reason that I could create a business here. When I started looking into it and looking at the terrain in the area, I could see this amazing opportunity.”
At Camp V, a former mining camp-turned-art lodge, founder Natalie Binder’s vision is tangible: fire rings where miners, artists, hunters, and cyclists swap stories under canyon moons. “It’s unspoiled and wild. There aren’t many of these places left, and we’re really proud of that.”
During the Grand Loop weekend, I photographed riders rolling out beneath endless partly cloudy skies. I listened to locals talk about boomtowns’ past and trail towns’ future. I thought about what we inherit and what we choose to carry forward. How can we move forward while still embracing the culture and past that brought us to our present?
The West End, just like The Grand Loop, is hard. Brutal, even. But so is transformation. That’s what’s happening here, not just in riders crossing mountain passes and threading through sun-baked canyons, but in locals crossing generations. A new story is being written across the West End–one of grit, vision, and the stubborn will to stay.
We often chase remoteness for what it offers us: solitude, struggle, stories. But maybe it’s not about what we take from these places. Maybe it’s about what we give back. About showing up. Again. And again.
Just like the Loop.
From Dirt to Documentary
Later this fall, I’ll release Echoes of the West End, a short documentary that dives deeper into the stories behind this movement. How trail builders, dreamers, and resilient locals are forging a new identity for a forgotten town. Stay tuned for the premiere and for a second feature that explores the vision, grit, and transformation driving WETA and the West End.
For more on the West End Trails Alliance and their work transforming this rugged region into a world-class destination for adventure cycling, visit West End Trails.