Matthew Fairbrother didn’t set out this summer with a clear itinerary. He never does. What he did have was a torn thumb ligament, a partly packed bag, and a curiosity that quickly evolved into something much bigger.
Riding solo through Europe - across the Alps, into the raw edges of Albania, and into more than a few storms - Fairbrother spent the season rebuilding not just physically, but mentally. Less about racing, more about rediscovery.
For a rider who’s earned a name chasing ultra-endurance missions, that shift in rhythm marked a different kind of challenge. There were fewer start lines and no finish tape. But there was movement – constantly - and moments that stuck harder than any medal.
This season wasn’t without intensity. Some ridgelines in the Alps blurred the line between rideable and reckless - terrain that forced him to question not just the trail, but the decisions that led him there. But those are the moments he craves. “They wake you up,” he says. “You stare down a line and wonder how you got there. And that’s the memory that stays” He rides for that feeling - the edge, the recalibration, the sense that you’ve pushed through to the other side of something hard.
But adventure doesn’t mean chaos. Fairbrother’s trip, in many ways, was smooth. No epic meltdowns, no dramatic breakdowns. “In some ways, that’s the story,” he says. “Sometimes the win is when everything holds together, and you just keep moving forward.” For someone used to riding the line of exhaustion, there was something powerful in the simplicity of consistency.
Still, it wasn’t all alpine calm and philosophical moments. His diet, like everything else on the road, was stripped back to essentials—and sometimes raised a few eyebrows. Roadside bags of spinach. Pickle juice. Anything functional, nothing fussy. “What I won’t pack is anything heavy or over-engineered,” he says.
“Simplicity wins every time. Lollies over gels, always.” Matthew Fairbrother
That stripped-back mentality extends to his gear. A few pieces make the cut - essentials that earn their space in a small pack. “The Icon Tee is always with me,” he says. “It works on the bike and off it. When you’re living out of a small bag, versatility is everything.” But this trip introduced a new staple: the Diversion Jacket. “It’s rare something goes from ‘nice to have’ to ‘non-negotiable,’ but that jacket did.”
Underneath it all is the quiet truth of solo riding: the headspace. “On the climbs, it’s internal,” Fairbrother explains. “You’re bargaining with yourself, finding rhythm, maintaining peace.” Then everything shifts. “The descent? That’s the release. Same terrain, but now it’s freedom instead of work. That switch—it’s instant. And addictive.”
Fairbrother’s summer wasn’t planned around destinations but around feeling. In Albania, one of the most rugged countries he’s ever ridden, he found both a physical test and a human one. Caught in a thunderstorm high in the mountains, he stumbled across a home. The man inside waved him in without hesitation. They shared no language, just food, warmth, and quiet understanding. “They fed me, introduced me to their family, and insisted I stay the night,” he recalls. “That left a massive mark. Sometimes the road doesn’t just give you landscapes - it gives you people who feel like home.”
His reason for being in Europe at all wasn’t part of the original plan. That thumb injury had sidelined bigger projects, forced him to recalibrate. Europe, he says, gave him balance—freedom in the Balkans, structure in the Alps, space to prepare for what’s ahead. The started out of curiosity and turned into necessity.
Albania, with its wildness and unpredictability, left the deepest imprint. The Alps, familiar yet capable of surprising, reminded him of why he keeps coming back. “You think you know,” he says, “then you find a trail that rewrites the script.”
These aren’t just rides. They’re reconnections - to self, to place, to the bigger mission. And maybe that’s what stuck most this summer. Less about performance. More about presence. About watching the world shift colours while you sit beside a stream, dirty and tired, but still ready for whatever’s next.
