By now, you’ve likely gathered that the Rebelle Rally is the nation’s toughest off-road, woman-only rally. I had the opportunity to cover it and truly understand how demanding it is.
It’s Saturday, October 11, and I’m standing at 10,400 feet on the side of a mountain in rural Nevada.
I’m not sure exactly where, and that’s by design; I’ve opted not to download the software that tracks Rebelle Rally competitors and crew vehicles (the latter of which includes a staffer’s 2025 Ram 1500 RHO I’ve been riding in all day—it’s a posh way to get out into the elements). I don’t really need to know precisely where we are, and that’s just one of the many things that separates me from the competitors.
Rebelle founder Emily Miller already told me today’s course would include the highest and steepest mountain pass in the Rebelle’s 10 years so far. It’s a trail she’s been longing to include because it’s both picturesque and terrifying, which seems to be her favorite combination. As a journalist covering the event, I get to witness from the sidelines the punishing but glorious trek that competitors face and feel just how challenging it is. There were several times I was challenged and left wondering what they must bring to this challenge to simply finish it, never mind hope for a place on the podium.
This story is 100% human-researched and written based on actual first-person knowledge, extensive experience, and expertise on the subject of cars and trucks.
Attending the Rebelle Rally is a Dream Come True
The other side of the steep mountain, heading to base camp – Credit: Regine Trias – Rebelle Rally
I’ve been looking forward to returning to the Rebelle Rally as a reporter since I first attended in 2018, which was a defining step in my midlife crisis. I arrived that year a month to the day after my father’s death, scared out of my damn mind at the mountain switchbacks, at my general ill-preparedness for a career-altering assignment, at my impostor syndrome being around so many brave and badass and tattooed women, at the life ahead in which I could no longer pick up the phone and say, “Dad, guess what I did today?”
Previous such conversations had featured skydiving, fulfilling my lifelong dream of standing up on a surfboard, and getting my byline in the print edition of the Chicago Tribune. For this, I was on my own. Except, as it turned out, not really. The Rebelle staff and competitors had my back every step of the way in 2018, and welcomed me back this year with open arms, allowing me to share more of their stories.
Attending the Rebelle Rally’s media program is a wholly unique experience, and I’d argue, it’s the best way to really understand the event. Unlike the competitors, we’re allowed to keep our phones and computers; unlike staff, we actually get some sleep. (The staff photographers and mechanics, in particular, are known for working all day and well into the night, whether they’re uploading that day’s shots into galleries or seeking out a transmission for a ’90s-era Ford Bronco to help get stranded competitors back on the road).
The First Day Starts Before Dawn, Even For Me
The Rebelle Rally is tough on journalists, but especially on the participants – Credit: Regine Trias – Rebelle Rally
5 to 6 am: Rebelle Rally founder Emily Miller emerges from one of the staff RVs, cowbell in hand. There’s a colorful cluster of a couple of hundred tents dotting the desert, where competitors, media, and some staff are getting ready to face the day. In the main base camp tent, crews are cooking breakfast — oatmeal, toast, bacon, and the like.
6 to 6:30 am: Mandatory competitor meeting begins in base camp. At least one member from each team must attend for the day’s key information; the other member of the team is often cleaning up camp or poring over the day’s maps.
7 to 7:30 am: The competition officially begins for the day. The first team takes off while the rest queue up, the order determined based on the previous day’s scores. The start line is a celebration every morning, with tons of cheering and photo opportunities for the staff. Meanwhile, I meet my driver for the day, Jimmy, and toss my gear in the back of his Ram truck. I climb in the back with another journalist, Ricki, while one of the rally’s social media staffers, Ashley, takes the front seat.
8 am: We’re driving on main roads toward Tonopah, Nevada, the home of the famous Clown Motel and several other haunted historical sites. I really want a t-shirt from Tonopah, but the Clown Motel’s gift shop isn’t yet open, and the diner waitress at a hotel/casino only laughs when I ask where I can buy a shirt. I get a text from my dad’s best friend, Neil, who saw on Facebook that I was in Tonopah — it’s a link to Little Feat’s song “Willin’,” which mentions this town. Neil sent me the same link when I was last here at the 2018 rally. I’m grateful my dad’s friends stay in touch, especially when they probably suspect I’m thinking about him.
9 am: We’re out on the trails in the desert, circling the competitors’ vehicles. It’s a bit of a cat-and-mouse game, since we can see their locations as well as their checkpoints on the tracking app, but we aren’t supposed to do anything that might give them hints or clues. Since Ashley needs photos for the Rebelle’s social media channels, we’re using our tracker to predict when competitors will be at some of the more scenic locations along today’s course. We’re out of range of cell signal most of the day, but I’m fretting about an assignment, so I check my email whenever our truck’s Starlink is working. Otherwise, it’s a really nice change of pace to ignore my phone and accept that anything that happens is out of my hands.
10 to 11 am: It’s freezing cold, then searing hot, then cold again. The temperature changes significantly minute by minute, and it’s exhausting. My eyes are also blurry and watering from yesterday’s dust storm. I decide to doze in the truck for a bit while Ricki and Ashley scurry around outside. There’s no official lunch time on the course, but we’re all snacking on the supplies we grabbed at base camp — fruit, popcorn, cookies. That’s pretty much the plan for the competitors, as well.
The Afternoon Kept Me Busy, Too
The Rebelle Rally has a lot of unique landscapes – Credit: Regine Trias – Rebelle Rally
12 pm: Most of the competitors have passed through the area we’d scouted, so we’re back on the trail, gradually ascending to about 10,400 feet. The scenery, it must be said, is incredible, although there’s no way I’m getting out of the truck for a closer look.
1 pm: I nearly have a heart attack when we realize what we thought was a lone tree on the ridge is actually a badass Rebelle photographer, and my acute acrophobia conjures up a mental image of a gust of wind picking her up and tossing her off the summit. (Sorry, Regine.)
2 pm: We’re on our way back down the mountain, after passing a sign warning “No Turnaround.” It’s a steep single lane, though we do find a turnout to let a fast-moving competitor pass us. Then, we realize Jimmy got the truck stuck on a log. The truck sways back and forth as he works us free, and I picture us flipping over and tumbling down the summit. Expletives were exchanged. (Sorry, Jimmy. I know you were doing your best.)
3 pm: It took a long time to creep back down the mountain, and the truck took some serious abuse — its power running boards dislodged on the log, and it got some scratches and dings inching through the tight mountain passes. Back on the valley floor we exchange celebratory sips of water to tide us over until we arrive at the evening’s destination.
4 pm: We ended the day in Belmont, Nevada, where we would camp that night. We arrive and head to Dirty Dick’s Saloon where the Rebelle staff and crew will stop for dinner. This is a “marathon segment” of the competition in which Rebelles bring food and gear to spend the night away from base camp, pitching tents in the parking lot of Belmont’s court house. Competitors can come in to Dirty Dick’s for drinks but they don’t have time for a festive social evening; when they return from the trail they have to pitch their camp and prepare for the next day. Chatting with the locals and enjoying cold drinks, we’re careful not to talk politics, but otherwise, the atmosphere is vibrant. Dogs are roaming the pub. I bought a couple of t-shirts — Dirty Dick’s is a solid substitute for Tonopah. We wander outside and explore the town, which runs entirely off solar power and features a supposedly haunted abandoned hotel for sale. It’s several barns that host a few dozen assorted dirt bikes and what appears to be a decent-looking moonshine apparatus. I kind of want to buy this hotel.
Evenings are Fun, Energetic, and Magical
The finish line of the Rebelle Rally – Credit: Regine Trias – Rebelle Rally
8 pm: Night has fallen. The mechanics are working on some of the competitors’ vehicles — a team in an Ineos Grenadier managed to smash the windshield, and between Dirty Dick’s and the Rebelle camp, there’s plenty of light on the main street, but the rest of the town is dark, perfect for stargazing. A cliffside church overlooking the town has a neon blue cross that hovers in the background, like something out of the ‘90s “Romeo + Juliet.”
9 pm: Our staff and crew dinner party at Dirty Dick’s is wrapping up. The chicken tortilla soup was awesome, and I’ve had more to drink than I’d expected. The goodbyes are getting a little melancholy, but I don’t want to go to bed yet; I’m sleeping in a tent, and it’s 22 degrees outside. The camp crew has been generously setting up our campsites—something competitors have to do on their own—and they brought me an insulated Yeti blanket for the night. I thank them for taking such good care of us and wish them well.
10 pm: Ricki and I confirm our departure plans; we’re leaving for the airport tomorrow at 7 am, and it’ll be about a four-hour drive (with a stop at an Area 51-themed gift shop so I can get a UFO shirt for my son, and I can’t resist another shirt for myself, from a nearby Area 51-themed brothel called Alien Cathouse). We thank the crew members who have helped us out and who we’ve gotten to know the best. I hug Emily, thank her for the unforgettable opportunity, and congratulate her on the Rebelle Rally’s 10th anniversary.
The Real Magic of the Rebelle Rally? How It Rewires Your Brain
Competitors in the Rebelle Rally – Credit: Rebelle Rally
This is something I’ve long understood, and know I know why. Competitors leave as sisters, as family. They become more self-assured, more confident. They no longer doubt themselves, they learn to trust in themselves. They learn to do things they never thought they could or would do and to help others achieve those impossibles.
And they say the same thing: Just crossing the finish line is winning. Something almost no competitor of any other race says.
So when you see Rally competitors entering the race year after year, or taking a place on the podium, it’s the ultimate accomplishment. There are no impostors here and they know it.