Taking Thousands for a Ride: Ending the Cycling Season With Nearly a Quarter-Million Views

Colder temperatures aren’t a bug of the next few months in Colorado. They’re the feature.

This Saturday in Longmont is supposed to be damp, with temperatures in the mid-50s—not exactly perfect riding weather. Over the past few weeks, I’ve tried to seize a shrinking window before winter turns long-distance cycling from an adventure into an ordeal.

That window took me west through South St. Vrain Canyon, south to Denver, back into the mountains through Left Hand Canyon and, finally, north to Fort Collins. Together, videos from those four rides drew nearly a quarter-million views across Instagram and TikTok.

The numbers surprised me. So did the people flagging me down in public to tell me they love these videos. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand the appeal. The scenery certainly helps. So do the distance, the climbs and the question hanging over every trip: Is he actually going to make it?

But I think the simplest explanation may be the right one. These videos give off big “normal guy trying dumb shit” energy.

I’m not the fastest cyclist, the most graceful climber or someone pretending every mile feels profound. I’m just curious how far I can get from Longmont on two wheels—and apparently, quite a few people want to come along for the ride.

#1 South St. Vrain Canyon via Lyons
09-20-2026

The funniest part of this ride is I never reached the summit.

When I rode South St. Vrain Canyon in the spring, I made it to the top. I cut the footage like a music video: scenery, momentum and a soundtrack carrying the story. About 2,000 people watched it.

This time, I started late. Daylight was working against me as I rode through Lyons and began climbing Colorado 7. Rather than fake certainty, I let the video become the ride: a calculation of how far I could climb, when I needed to turn around and whether I could descend safely before darkness reached the canyon.

I did not summit. The video drew nearly 20,000 views anyway.

That contrast is hilarious, but it taught me something. Viewers were not waiting for an athletic achievement. They were following the uncertainty. They wanted to know whether the normal guy who started too late would make a decision—or keep pushing until the mountain made it for him.

The spring video showed where I went. This one told the story of being there. Documentary-style narration turned an incomplete climb into a complete experience. People responded to the decisions, tension and personality rather than the summit.

#2 Longmont to Denver
09-25-2026

Longmont to Denver was probably the least athletic of these four rides. It was neither my longest nor boldest route. I have ridden farther south through Denver, as far as Chatfield Reservoir in a day.

But this ride had something else: a premise a 5-year-old could understand.

I was riding my bike from Longmont to Denver.

There was no complicated route to explain and no obscure summit viewers needed to recognize. The destination was Union Station, an obvious landmark. Every mile moved toward a clear finish line, and the documentary-style narration let viewers experience the trip as it unfolded.

Then came the reward. I went to Pete’s for nachos because they are fast, cheap and a lot of food—three qualities that become important after biking from another city.

That simple structure was catnip: announce the destination, keep moving south, arrive at Union Station and eat. The video generated more than 150,000 views across Instagram and TikTok, easily the biggest response of the four rides.

The lesson was annoyingly clear. A ride does not need to be the hardest to make the strongest story. Sometimes viewers need to understand the mission immediately and have a reason to stay for the arrival.

#3 Longmont to Ward via Left Hand Canyon
10-17-2026

Left Hand Canyon was the ride where the athletic challenge finally matched the story.

The premise was simple: ride from Longmont to Ward. Unlike Denver, no obvious finish line waited. The road climbed into the mountains, turning the ride into a test of whether my legs would answer.

The video also had something narration cannot manufacture: October in the canyon. Golden leaves lined Left Hand Creek, rock walls tightened and every turn felt like a reward for continuing uphill. The scenery gave viewers a reason to stop scrolling; the climb gave them a reason to stay.

I reached Ward, but the summit was only part of the payoff. The documentary structure let people feel the distance from Longmont, watch the landscape change and understand what the elevation was doing to me. The result was more than 42,000 views across Instagram and TikTok.

At nearly two minutes, the video was longer and moved more slowly than the Denver piece. That limited its ceiling. But it proved viewers would stay with a longer ride when location, difficulty and narration kept building together.

Denver was a destination story. Left Hand Canyon was a climbing story—and the clearest example of why this format works.

#4 Longmont to Fort Collins
10-20-2026

Fort Collins was the newest experiment and the messiest video of the four.

After riding south to Denver and west into the mountains, north felt inevitable. I followed Boulder and Larimer County backroads from Longmont to Fort Collins, then climbed near Horsetooth Reservoir for the view over the city.

That final section delivered. The reservoir, autumn color and overlook provided the payoff that makes a long ride worth following. The middle was less convincing. As the scenery settled into ordinary foothills, viewers dropped away. At nearly two minutes, the video asked for more patience than the faster-moving, 90-second Denver story.

Phone problems ended the Strava recording, leaving Ride with GPS to document the route.

Even with those weaknesses, the video approached 22,000 combined Instagram and TikTok views by 5:30 p.m. Oct. 21, less than a day after the ride. That is hardly a failure at all.

Fort Collins reinforced both sides of the lesson. A clear premise—ride north from Longmont to another recognizable city—can carry a video through slower stretches. But the premise cannot do everything. The Horsetooth footage shows the visual reward these stories need; the drop-off before it shows why every minute has to keep earning the next.

Colder weather may be closing this cycling season, but it has not made the list any shorter. Next season, I want to ride the Vail Pass recreation path, pedal from Longmont to Golden and climb Lookout Mountain, complete a century ride, reach Estes Park from Longmont and point the bike east to see how far across the plains I can go.

Those are longer distances and harder climbs, but this fall clarified why they are worth documenting. The destination gives people a reason to click. The uncertainty gives them a reason to keep watching. I do not yet know how many of these rides I can finish—and that is the point.

The cycling season may be ending. The normal guy trying dumb shit is not.