This is the third in our series of stories from Tor Divide riders, written to shine a light on the women who show up, take on the challenge, and make this event what it is. We hope their voices inspire you.
Every year, choosing a Bursary rider is one of the hardest things we do.
Not because there aren't enough good applications, there are always more than we'd like to turn down. It's hard because behind every application is someone who genuinely wants this, and there's only one place to give.
For the third edition of Tor Divide, the decision was harder than ever. But from the moment Eleni's application came in, something about it stayed with me.
What she had was honesty. About where she was, what scared her, and what she hoped the Tor might open up. That kind of self-awareness is rare, and in my experience, it's a better predictor of how someone will ride than any amount of miles in the legs.
I'm glad we picked her. I couldn't have been happier with how things went.
Eleni not only tackled Tor Divide: she stepped so far out of her comfort zone that by the end, the person who finished looked quite different from the person who started (and not just because she was wearing a bin bag having lost her waterproof jacket). And what's been just as rewarding to watch is what happened afterwards: she's become a genuine ambassador for bikepacking and off-road cycling within her community, bringing others in with the same warmth and openness that made her application stand out in the first place.
Here is her story. It's one of the best things I've read about what a big ride can do to a person.
Valerio
“When I applied for the Bursary I didn't realise what the Tor Divide could open up for me. Not only for bikepacking, but also a wide array of possibilities. The Tor Divide has helped me see how resilient I am, but also it has given me permission to stand proudly in a community that before I didn't think I belonged to.
When I applied, I didn't know exactly what to expect. I knew I wanted to go bikepacking, I knew I wanted the adventure and definitely a challenge. I had been on a couple of more challenging gravel rides before, but never alone. After the Tor Divide, I am confident - or maybe madly so - that I can cycle in remote places and be okay. This was something that before I would have struggled with.
I could have given up and turned back when I lost my rain jacket, a key piece of equipment considering how much it had been raining. But I had put so much training into this event: weekends of long rides, the next day dead on the couch, learning how to fuel properly and adjusting when I was getting it wrong — many, many times.
Growth only comes when you are uncomfortable and when you do hard things. I couldn't have become the rider I am today on an ordinary Wednesday ride because the discomfort wasn't there, there were no boundaries to push and there was no mental challenge to overcome.
I overcame three big fears I had about riding during the Tor:
Being fully self-sufficient.
Riding at night in remote places.
Sleeping in the wild.
I know now that if I were to do it again, I would be okay and I wouldn't be scared, and I'm actually looking forward to the next adventure. I'm just deciding how big I want it to be.
I did the Gravel route: 228 km and 3,925 m of elevation across two days, the most I had ever climbed. The route was beautiful and perfect for exploring the Peak District. I couldn't have asked for a nicer ride: challenging enough to push the learning curve and enjoyable enough to really take in the views. Sometimes I cursed when I saw the climbs ahead, and I totally wanted to kiss the tarmac on more than one occasion. But overall it was a fantastic ride.
"When I arrived at the finish line I thought I wouldn't do it again. Now, after a few weeks of reflection, I say that I would do it all over again."
It has been beyond challenging and it has pushed me mentally and physically more than I had imagined. Having sat with the experience, I noticed an emptiness after the Tor. It gave me purpose to train, to learn new skills, and it has made me a better rider in every possible way.
My experience of the Tor was lonelier than that of others, and I am happy about it. On the stretches I rode alone, I learnt a lot about myself . I thought about my life, my career, what it meant to move to this country over ten years ago, and I looked at how far I have come.
I had a lot of firsts: first time riding alone at night, first time riding 100 km+ by myself, first time sleeping alone in a bivvy in the middle of nowhere, first time losing a key piece of kit and finding a quick solution. The Tor taught me not to give up and that we are more capable than we give ourselves credit for.
The community of the Tor Divide is second to none. When I set up @elenionthepeaks to share a bit of my journey, what I found instead was an awesome community that came together to support me. When I asked for advice, I got replies from riders who shared their experiences and really tried to calm my anxieties. Perhaps the Instagram community was what surprised me most about the Tor.
Without the Bursary I wouldn't have been able to do any of this. Being supported throughout, and having a shoulder to lean on in the lead-up to the event, made the experience feel community-focused rather than a lonely ride. A massive thank you to Valerio for all the messages, the support, and the all-round experience.
"If I look back at where I was with my life a year ago, I couldn't have imagined any of this would happen."
Eleni
If Eleni's story resonates with you - if you've ever thought maybe I could do something like that - then we'd love to welcome you to a future edition of Tor Divide. And if you're a woman or non-binary rider with a story of your own to share, we'd love to hear it. Just get in touch.
See you at Tor Divide in 2027.
Valerio
"If I look back at where I was with my life a year ago, I couldn't have imagined any of this would happen."
Eleni
