Gravel, Grit, and A Lot of F Bombs: Surviving My Third Gravel and Whine

 This was my 3rd go at Gravel and Whine! My affection for this race has evolved over the years. My first attempt was a rollercoaster of getting lost, battling deep sand, yet crossing the finish line with laughter. The following year was a revelation; the stats above do not reveal true differences in 23 and 24. 2023 was epic and fun,

Pro tip from a guy I was with, no brakes just relax and cruise down

2024 was transformative. The 2024 race upped the ante with about 70% gravel, more arduous climbs, and impossible, truly mountain biking, single tracks. Despite similar appearances, the experiences were worlds apart. My power meter malfunctioned, making the power stats irrelevant, but the intensity and training load tell the tale of why I was so smashed at the end. 

Sure this is rideable.
 

This year, I “welcomed” one of my athletes from Colorado and two friends to join in. I pitched the race as manageable and non-technical. All 3 by the way finished the course!  So kudos there. Yet, early on, I realized this year’s course was a different beast. It wasn't the challenging but doable course, it was soon about enduring fear, exhaustion, and taking risks on precarious descents, yearning for the end. The water scarcity at two out of three aid stations added an unexpected challenge, especially since I opted out of my camelback, complacent from last year's smooth sailing. A lesson was certainly learned there.

For most of the race, I was alone or accompanied by random fellow riders. Days like these can shatter your spirit, yet they are the ones that fortify it. Gravel racing pushes me out of my comfort zone in unpredictable ways. Confronting a 12% grade on a rocky path with deep crevices, running out of water miles from civilization, and facing dirt roads with no amenities - these are the moments that test you. I fell into the sand, tired to the bone, then summoned the effort to empty sand from my gloves, shoes, jersey and then to continue to the mud section.  Where some hilarious person placed a narrow plank to bridge the puddles and deep mud as if I could ride over that.   I tried to walk it but ended up in the mud, so be it.  I was cursing at my optimal level to the amusement of others and even talked a few riders out of quitting. There's something profoundly rewarding about overcoming such discomfort and fear.

I know many choose to cut the course short, but I'm glad I stayed the course. Finishing late, after the raffle and meals, was a humbling experience. I'm far from mastering this, but there's an allure in the challenge and the resilience it demands.

2024

2023