Unbound Gravel XL

2016 was my first race here in Kansas. In fact it was my first gravel race ever. I had heard a few tall tales about this “crazy race in Kansas” before finally deciding to take the plunge myself. The 200 miles of Flint Hills gravel would prove to be the biggest challenge I had ever attempted on a bike.

The format for the race was that each rider would have a support crew at 3 checkpoints at 50 miles, 100 miles, and 160 miles. At these checkpoints you could refill bottles, restock up on nutrition, and do whatever it was you needed to do to keep yourself moving.

While I had ample support at each stop, I made just about every mistake a rookie could make as a raced from one to the next. I ran out of water about 20 miles before each stop. I ran out of food about 20 miles before each stop. I forgot to bring my headlights. I chose too small of a gear on my single speed.

I managed to fight my way through to each checkpoint and eventually the finish, but I went through many dark places to get there. I recall being about 10 miles from the 3rd checkpoint and thinking to myself, “I wish something on my bike would break so I could stop this foolishness.” I stared at various components on my bike praying for a mechanical failure to end my day.

I pushed my way past those dark thoughts and crossed the finish line in 7th place in the single speed category. It was pure misery. And I couldn’t wait to return to do it all again.

Each year I came back stronger and more prepared and moved my way up in the rankings. My brain still went to those same dark places and had those same dark thoughts, praying for a failure to end my suffering. But every year, I crossed that finish line thankful that I was able to fight through.

In 2019, I decided to jump into the XL edition of the race. While not only longer, 350 miles vs 200 miles, it was also fully unsupported. No crews or team mechanics waiting for you up the road. Just a few convenience stores and gas stations along the route that you could use to restock (if you made it before they closed).

The race took me 29 hours to finish. It was transcendent. It was the hardest single ride I had ever done and crossing the finish line after 29 hours of non stop riding through some of the toughest gravel the States have to offer was one of the most memorable moments in my cycling career.

Needless to say, I was so ready to return for the next edtion.

2021’s edition was my first race back after a long year of pandemic and lockdown, so by the time I lined up to start I was practically foaming at the mouth. I was so thrilled to be doing my favorite thing at my favorite race after a long stretch of no races at all.

I brought with me all the lessons learned from the last several editions of the race as well as the other ultra races I’ve done since. Physically, I felt fantastic and more fit than any previous editions. Even my bike was more dialed and better suiting to the long road ahead of me.

As we tore off into the abyss, you could tell that everyone was full of energy and excitement. At the front of the pack, we came out swinging with a 23 mph pace for the first several miles. I stayed with that group for the first 20 miles or so before deciding it was a bit too spicy for this long of a race and I settled into my own pace.

The temperatures were scorching. The race starts in the late afternoon, and we ride on into and through the night before getting once again pummeled by the sun and heat the next day. It was 88 degrees F when I pulled into the first gas station on the route around mile 41. It was 2 hours into the race and the pace was still high. I refilled water and was back out on the course as quickly as I had stopped.

The course was rife with short, but super steep climbs that piled up one after the other. There is very little time to find recovery in between these kinds of hills and there is zero time to settle into a climb. Under the red hot sun these kinds of steep rolling hills can be soul crushing.

I felt so strong as I hit one after the other as we pushed on towards the sunset. Riding through the night is one of my favorite aspects of ultra racing for many reasons. The most obvious one being the escape from the heat. The real magic of this race comes when it is just you and your bike under the stars. When the pack starts to splinter during the day you quickly find yourself alone. However once night hits you start to see the lights of the other racers on the horizon and you are reminded that you are surrounded by friends who are suffering along with you.

The night finally came and the temperatures cooled. I found myself on Bobcat Road. “Road” is a pretty loose term out in the Flint Hills. Bobcat Road seemed more like some primitive thoroughfare than a road. Lit only by my headlamp I climbed and descended this crumbling path as the first stars of the night started to shine above me.

Bobcat Road proved to be the roughest road so far on the course and I was very happy to make it through without incident. As the night wound on, I found myself on Skyline Road, about 17 miles from the next town with a refuel opportunity. I started to think about everything I was going to eat as I had no appetite left for any of the sports nutrition I had been using to fuel. I wanted a slice of pizza. I wanted a huge bag of potato chips. I wanted all the beef jerky.

As I made a descent down on of Skyline Road’s many rolling hills I suddenly heard a loud BANG before my rear wheel started rubbing the chainstays. I pulled over to inspect what happened, I discovered a spoke had broken. Upon further inspection I could see the spoke had pulled through the carbon rim, rendering the wheel unrideable.

I stared at the wheel in disbelief. I tried to balance the wobble by adjusting the tension of other spokes, but my efforts were in vain. I immediately thought back to my first ever edition of the 200 where I found myself cracked and wishing for this kind of mechanical to end my suffering.

I had finally gotten what I’d been asking for all these years and I felt nothing but disappointment. As frustrated as I was to be stranded with this mechanical issue, I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. I called for a rescue, as the only support we are allowed to take is if we scratch from the race, and sat under the stars contemplating the position I had found myself in.

Scratching from a race is never an easy decision. Pride, ego, disbelief… all these things come into play. When you spend so much time preparing both physical and mental self, it can be a hard pill to swallow. However, if I have taken away anything from racing ultras it is that the human body and mind are resilient and incredible bits of machinery. Your body can do things you never thought possible when you mind allows it to.

Your mindset going into a race like this has to be open. Open to the possibility that despite all your best preparations, there are things that fall out of your control. While the outcomes can be frustrating, this mindset is also liberating. Part of the adventure is the unknown. The circumstances that you CAN’T control are what makes it exciting.

I’ve often called gravel “the great equalizer.” No matter what you’ve done to prepare, all it takes is that one chunk of sharp stone to change your plans. This year, I made friends with the great equalizer. One chunk of sharp stone changed my plans without asking me.

While that stone ended my race this year, it only adds fuel to my motivation for next year. On to the next adventure!