I’m Casey Greene, a creative based in Missoula, Montana
I began my design career as a cartographer, creating and refining wayfinding maps for bikepackers navigating challenging landscapes. That work taught me how deeply product design affects real-world experience. When someone is miles from the nearest town and a poorly designed map forces them to ride an extra ten miles at the end of a long day, it’s not a minor inconvenience — it’s a failure of the product.
Those moments shaped how I think about design. I learned to actively gather user feedback, identify friction points, and iterate toward clearer, more reliable solutions.
Understanding the human experience is essential to building products that truly work. I use my skills to empower people to accomplish their goals, creating thoughtful experiences that make life simpler, more intuitive, and more dependable.
Every map tells a story. But Casey Greene reads between the topo lines… An adventure savant of sorts, Greene’s ride doesn’t stop when the trail ends. He’s helped popularize a fringe sport called pack-biking, strapping his bike to his backpack to cross off-trail terrain before he can put two wheels back on the ground.
“Wilderness inspires adventure, and Casey Greene is an excellent example of that," said Gabriel Furshong, Montana Wilderness Association state program director. "I think it’s wonderful that he’s found a way to cross different boundaries creatively.”
There, in the Historical Village parking lot, we meet my friend Casey Greene, who is something of a pioneer himself… Casey was the first to see the potential of touring forest fire lookout towers by bike, something he'd tried out each of the past two summers. With Casey joining us, our plan is to head to a pair of remote towers in the mountains vaulting from the edge of town.
There’s a picture of Casey Greene floating around the internet that looks a little ridiculous. He’s walking up rocky singletrack through an evergreen forest toting a big red backpack. A disassembled bike is strapped to that backpack, and there’s a raft rolled up and strapped to the top of the bike. A neon-green trucker’s cap is hooked to one of the wheels, adding a bit of color. It’s all so very “Beverly Hillbillies,” in an adventurous, “What the hell is he doing?” sort of way.
Photography
I’m incredibly inspired by outdoor adventure, and photography helps me recover from when I feel creatively stunted.
Outdoor Writing
Years ago, I had an outdoor adventure based blog. Below are a few of my favorite pieces from it.
I'd been to these mountains before. I'd ridden my bicycle through them 4 years—what seems like a lifetime—ago. I'd never been so happy. Each night on that outing, myself and my friend Shaun had stayed at forest fire lookout towers, perched high on mountain tops. We had started in the Selkirk Mountains of north Idaho and seemed to dance across the peaks and river valleys right to the edge of Glacier National Park in Montana.
The CDT through hikers didn't know what to make of the sight in front of them. Which happened to be me, jogging up a dirt road 15 miles from the nearest paved road—at dusk—with no gear, no water, and asking them how much further the trailhead was. "I don't know, man. Maybe another mile, but there's no one up there, just a few cars."
As a cartographer for Adventure Cycling Association, I spent heaps of timing studying the interplay between terrain and bikes, and as the architect of the Idaho Hot Springs Mountain Bike Route, I've learned what those lines really mean out there on the trail, and as a serial bikepacker, I've experienced more ups and downs than I can count. Human-powered adventure is challenging and amazing, and here is—in five unique steps—what I've learned about how to put together a trip.