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Meaghan Hackinen: Reshaping Ultra Cycling

Meaghan Hackinen: Reshaping Ultra Cycling
Fresh off a huge win at the Hellenic Mountain Race, Meaghan Hackinen is racing fast and reshaping what’s possible in ultra cycling. We sat down with Meaghan to talk about chasing big goals, managing doubt, and what it takes to race at the front while staying grounded.

So far this summer, Meaghan Hackinen has been on a tear. She took second place at the Atlas Mountain Race, covering 1,300 kilometers in just over five days, then followed it up with a huge win at this year's Hellenic Mountain Race in Greece. She's been racing ultras since 2017 and mopping up ever since, including a win in the women's category at last year's Tour Divide. But what really stands out is how she's consistently pushing beyond the women's field. Her times are right up there with the fastest men, including a top 10 finish at the Hellenic—and honestly, that just makes us smile.

Canada in general is having a moment in ultra cycling. Rob Britton crushed Unbound XL, beating Lachlan Morton by five minutes, and Cory Wallace landed a top-5 finish too. But Meaghan's performances this season are something else… fast, focused, and full of purpose.

Meaghan is a contributor here at Bike Gear Database, and I wanted to take the chance to get to know her a little better. I wanted to hear more about her habits, her mindset, and how she's racing at the front on her own terms. What surprised me most in this interview was learning how much she had to push through just to get to the start line in Greece. Even at her level, she was dealing with nerves, injury, and a bit of imposter syndrome. She trained on mountain bike trails back home in BC. She changed up her setup. And she showed up ready. Meaghan lives her passion for the bike and for ultra racing, and this year she's going big with a plan to become the first woman to complete all three Mountain Race Series events in a single season.

Let's go.

You just won the Hellenic Mountain Race. What does that victory represent to you?

After committing to all the prep work and training, and then executing my race plan, of course it feels great to come out on top of the podium especially with the bewildering amount of climbing factored in. Winning is also an affirmation that I'm on the right path—which is something I've been struggling with lately. I turned 40 this year and signed up for the Mountain Race series in part to celebrate this milestone—but then as soon as my birthday rolled around in January I plunged into an existential crisis: second guessing my life choices, wondering if I was fulfilling my purpose, and certain I'd gotten in way over my head. I was also struggling to manage a shoulder injury that I incurred at the end of 2024 and found the fast approach of Atlas Mountain Race in February overwhelming: with my shoulder injury, I could barely box my bike up for travel, for instance. Instead of on-the-bike training, I was busy driving around to therapeutic appointments; other than a photoshoot, I never even rode my new Salsa Cutthroat before flying to Morocco. I felt like a hack, and my nerves were out of control when I boarded that plane to Marrakech not knowing if I'd be well enough to race.

So, I guess that's all to say that I was in a much better place coming into this race, and I think my result, but even more so my race experience reflects that. I say experience because the outcome has a lot to do with who shows up on race day, and I can think of a few women who would have smoked me if they'd been on the start line. Whereas the experience of racing Hellenic Mountain Race was, in so many ways, a more positive one than competing in Atlas Mountain Race only a few months prior.

The Hellenic is brutally technical. How did you prepare differently for it?

I practiced riding rougher stuff on our local mountain bike trails in Kelowna this spring. I don't believe two months is sufficient to become a great mountain biker but I'm definitely more competent than before. I also have a better idea of where my limits are (and how those change depending on fatigue and nighttime riding conditions when visibility is limited), which is also important. When things got too techy for me, I just hopped off the bike and walked—no second guessing. So the transition between the two was quick, and I kept my momentum rolling even when I was off the bike.

I also tried to pack my bike as light and streamlined as possible, while still having decent capacity for food, since there are some longer stretches between resupply.

To prepare mentally, I checked out the past winners finishing times and average speeds. Going into the race knowing that I would only average somewhere between 9-12 km/hour helped set the expectation that I'd be facing some really challenging terrain, and walking/pushing/hiking quite a bit. It's a good thing I enjoy hiking, anyways! I also spoke with several past Hellenic Mountain Race finishers, who not only provided useful intel about the course, but even more importantly reinforced the notion that it would be slow going, and I'd have to be patient with both myself and the terrain.

Flat bars and suspension on a Cutthroat...how did that change your ride style?

I'll start by saying that I don't adapt easily. I've been riding the same road bike with minimal change since 2016, for instance. I put the suspension on my Cutthroat the night before Atlas Mountain Race and I struggled the entire race. I actually rode with the suspension locked out for the first 36 hours because I thought it was broken, but really it was just my downtube bag rubbing. Pro tip: always do a shakeout ride.

I swapped the drop bars for flat bars as soon as I got home from Morocco to give myself plenty of time to get used to this second adjustment before travelling to Greece for the Hellenic Mountain Race.

I think, correction, I know that front suspension is the right choice for the more rugged terrain of the Mountain Race series, and flat bars made sense for the elevation-heavy profile of Hellenic Mountain Race, but both have really transformed how the Cutthroat handles. The flat bars have improved how I can maneuver the bike on more technical terrain, and the suspension soaks up rougher stuff that would have me off and walking (I know this for a fact, because I walked a lot descents during those first 36 hours of Atlas Mountain Race!). While it's awesome to be able to handle steeper and more technical terrain, I also miss the nimble and racier feel of my rigid Cutthroat with drop bars.

Now that the Hellenic Mountain Race is over, I'm going back to drop bars but I'll keep the suspension for the Silk Road Mountain Race.

What moments in that race tested you the most...mentally or physically?

While there were plenty of challenges in the first 24 hours, like navigating Forest Prison and a series of slippery stone bridges in the rain and at night, I was so fresh and keen that everything still felt fun and easy. It wasn't until the fatigue and sleep deprivation started to leave its mark that the obstacles felt tougher.

One of my low points was the afternoon of the second day after passing through CP1: Smolikas. Which is funny, because the climb to reach the checkpoint took us up to the highest point of the course, and the descent included seven kilometres of mountain biking trail that I mostly walked—except for one short section I tried to ride and bailed pretty hard on a slippery blue water pipe. But it was after the checkpoint where I struggled. The weather was dreary, and since I was riding through a cloud and didn't see much, I couldn't find my usual spark of motivation in the landscape. I felt pretty beat up from the rough descent into Metsovo, plus I was wet and filthy. Even though it was only 8:30 pm, I opted to stop for the night to get myself and my bike cleaned up, and get a good sleep in a hotel room. Both pairs of socks were soaked, plus I'd lost my sleeping pad. So, I knew that I wouldn't get adequate recovery outdoors that night. I feel like stopping early for a reset was the right choice, and it paid off the next day when I headed into some of the more remote sections of the course feeling really fresh and capable again.

Another difficult section for me was the final push from CP3 to the finish. It's only 190 km, but accumulates 6,300 metres of elevation. I left Karpenisi in the afternoon heat and the steep pitches through villages absolutely crushed me. I wished I'd put ice in my hydration bladder, but I just didn't realize how hot it was. I got some reprieve on a descent, but then started climbing Diaselo Kaliakoudas Pass. Night fell before I reached the summit, and the pitch outmatched my gearing. So, I walked. I was listening to a romance audiobook and the two main characters finally hooked up while I was on the climb, a rewarding payoff after a day and a half of storytelling. Exhaustion overtook me on the descent, however, and I took a spill after cutting a corner too sharp. At that point I knew that I couldn't do the remainder of the course in one push. I decided to bivy down for a couple of hours in a shelter before continuing.

I guess the commonality in both experiences is that for me, sleep is the magic elixir.

You're not just winning women's fields, you're beating most of the men too. Do you think that's starting to shift how people see women in ultra racing?

I'm not sure. I think you'd have to conduct a survey of other people to get the answer to that question! I can only control my own actions; not what other people think. This comes up in my creative life as well: while I hope that people find my writing entertaining, I don't have a say in their interpretation beyond that. If someone is inspired, great! If they feel like I'm a foolish and naïve young woman, well, that's also a valid opinion.

One thing that concerns me is that every time we see a woman do really well in ultra-cycling, there will always be people who say—often with good intentions—“Well, that just proves we don't need separate men's and women's categories anymore.” And while it's true that I consider myself a competitor in both the larger mixed gender field as well as the smaller women's field, I fear that if we cease to think of the women's division as a distinct category, we risk having the already minuscule women's field overshadowed completely.

I've been racing since 2017. Now, eight years later, women's participation still falls around 10%—about where it stood then. While we've no doubt witnessed some really incredible performances by women, not to mention impactful initiatives like TCR's 100 Women campaign, we're still hugely underrepresented in the sport. If we only shine a light on women who break into the top 10% in the overall rankings, we ignore most women. Which, I would argue, isn't great for gender equity on the whole.

I really appreciate that the Mountain Race Series is dedicated to providing equal coverage to the men's and women's races.

You've raced the Atlas and Hellenic. Silk Road is next. Why do these mountain races matter to you?

I love exploring places by bike. I also have an insatiable competitive drive. The Mountain Race Series satisfies both of these longings. So far, visiting both Morocco and Greece have been incredible, transformative experiences. I've been able to bookend my races with touring and some sightseeing, providing a deeper impression. I also find joy in being part of the growing and dynamic women's field: showing up, giving my best, and sharing my experience are all ways I hope I can push the sport forward.

I think part of me needs to feel like I'm spending my time on earth in a worthwhile way, and I know from experience that training and competing in these ultra-races is meaningful to me. Perhaps spending time alone with my thoughts this year will help me figure out how I want to step into next, because I'm really just winging it right now, and I'm not sure if that's sustainable.

You're on track to be the first woman to complete all three in a season...

Knowing that no other woman had competed in all three Mountain Race events in a calendar year was a motivator, for sure. I'm always looking for direction, and I felt like doing all three of these races would give my year a kind of structure and purpose. When I started poking around and learned that a handful of men had completed the “Triple Nelson” but no women, I thought it would be cool to be the first. Plus, if I'm being completely honest, I'll add that it's difficult to find sponsorship dollars in ultra-cycling. I hoped that by committing to a challenge this monumental, I might be able to secure some funding to support my passion.

But, I'll also add that I'm no longer the only woman doing all three races this year: 19-year old Carlotta Schumacher from Germany has announced that she will participate in all three as well, and she's cycling to each race! Carlotta has a great energy and it sounds like she leaned into her competitive side during the Hellenic Mountain Race, where she placed third in the women's division. I'm excited that there's another woman embarking on this challenge; we both bring something different to the table with our approach and outlook.

Canada seems to be doing well in ultra cycling these days...why do you think that is?

I agree. BC-based Rob Britton just won Unbound XL, and Cory Wallace took 5th spot on the podium. In the Okanagan, we also have women like RAAM-winner Leah Goldstein, and Ultra Double Deca Triathlon winner Shanda Hill. After crushing the BC Epic FKT last year, I'm excited to see how Svein Tuft (another BC-based athlete) does on the Tour Divide this summer, not to mention my favourite friendly rival (another BC Epic 1000 winner), Cory Ostertag.

But, to answer the question of why, I believe it's a combination of adventurous terrain and a supportive community. While I don't think Canadian cycling culture is as vibrant as it is in many places in Europe, we do have a great bikepacking community and some pretty incredible (and accessible) grassroots events like the Buckshot, BC Epic 1000, and Lost Elephant here in BC, as well as The Adirondack Trail Ride, Log Driver's Waltz, and BT700 out east. On top of that, our backcountry offers an infinite training ground with no shortage of challenging terrain and weather.

As someone winning big and writing about it... how does storytelling help move the sport forward?

People love stories: it's how we connect. I think the storytelling done by both individual bikepackers and media crews at events is integral to the growth of the sport by increasing the reach and sharing the transformative and transcendent experience of ultra-endurance adventures.

With so much success, what's left to tackle?

I never worry about a shortage of challenges. With new bikepacking routes and races springing up all the time, there's enough out there to keep me moving for a lifetime.