The Carriboo Jack
Mountain Bike the Tetons
A most excellent adventure turned cult-classic
The Carriboo Jack was born from a love of biking, trails, community, and the simple joy of being out in the woods together. What started as an idea quickly became a hands-on experiment in experience design. It was grassroots in every sense, built with the help of countless friends, volunteers, and supporters along the way. Where to begin?


Overview
There's an arc here.
In 2018, inspired by events like Trans-Cascadia, I felt a pull to create something from nothing: a mountain bike event rooted in trail stewardship, a challenging race to highlight that work, and a party in the woods to bring people together afterward. I hustled for local support, spent my own money, built the brand, and made it happen. It was small—but there was a buzz. An energy that felt special.
Each year, the event grew. Sponsors came on board. Production became more polished. It started to look like the "real" thing. The Carriboo Jack was always a bit awkward by design—a backcountry race that pushed people outside their comfort zones. The first year, I begged people to sign up. A few years later, it was selling out in under 30 minutes.
And somewhere along the way, it stopped being fun.
I realized I was trying to make it big, when what made it meaningful was that it was small. Local. A little goofy. Personal.


My role
Founder and lead organizer. I designed and executed every aspect of the event, including trail work, course design, brand identity, marketing, website, sponsorships, logistics, and volunteer coordination. The Carriboo Jack was a fully volunteer-run effort, with all proceeds reinvested directly into trail stewardship.


Design insight
The most important design decision wasn't about branding, logistics, or scale—it was about restraint. Letting the event be what it wanted to be, not what I thought it should become.


Closing
By 2024, my final year involved with the race, everything clicked. The venue, the course, the format—it all felt right. It felt like riding bikes in the woods with your friends.
Looking back, I'm amazed at how much time I spent deep in the forest—alone and with others—clearing trail, problem-solving, and staying up late worrying about race details. It was 100% volunteer-run, with all proceeds going back into the trails. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything.