In my younger years, living in Sydney, I remember turning a corner, seeing one of the many street performers that seeing them scatter themselves on the busy main street during rush hours. So often I never noticed, walked on by and didn’t think back. But this man. He could sing. A clear and concerted voice, a passion and an artistry and a song I had never heard… possibly an original. I stopped, I listened, I found some change to his guitar case, and I continued across it. I never knew his name, but wow I was a fan.
About a year later, I flipped the radio station in the car, lackadaisically browsing the FM channels, when I heard a voice, and I thought, wait I know this song… I know this voice. This is my street performer. He had a breakthrough video on YouTube performing the original, and next thing, he was recorded and blew up worldwide. I was torn. In one way I was so stoked for this amazing artist, as he’d made it, his sweet song was now for everyone. Yet there was a part of me that hurt, this was my band, mine! And when I told people how I was one of his original followers, he was a banger. In case you are all dying to know, the song is Let Her Go, and that street artist is now globally known as Passenger.
And there I was, a passenger of the more traditional sense at my first Unbound. This event / race has grown into something of a monster. It’s beyond big in every sense. Not just for the fact you have to get lucky on a lottery to get a start, but for riders, this is the Superbowl, the Wimbledon, the Tour de France of Gravel. And not just for the riders, but commercially, every company that is trying to etch its name in the sport is all fighting for space, to be noticed, to be the star in the tidal wave of content and advertising that comes from and out of this race.
So what does this mean? Well. I can’t speak for the commercial interests directly, but the spirit of gravel – Oooh yes I used the most overused expression in the sport right now, the spirit at Unbound was not what I expected. Did I miss the years when Unbound was my busker?
Naïve perhaps, I too have followed the Instagram stories of Ted King, Laurens ten Dam, Ian Boswell and the feeling that Gravel in the USA is super-chilled, super-relaxed and the racing is just riders all on the same even playing field , going head to head and high fiving whoever won. This is like, the antithesis of the WorldTour, so you can see how it’s attractive right?
How wrong was I! I turned up with a bike bag, a few essential tools and spare parts, shoes, kit and a helmet. Go time. A friend of mine, Cowboy Steve from Campagnolo USA flew in the night before the race to help me out in the feed zones, which at this point I already thought, man, how pro am I! Little did I know…
At Unbound, many of the USA-based pro riders have a whole team of helpers at the feed zones. Somebody to change bottles, someone with a pressure washer to spray the bike down, another was woefully unprepared.
By the time I’d swapped my bids and grabbed a new bag these guys had new bikes, new wheels, full bottle swaps and they were already 10 seconds in front attacking the feed zone. It was game on!
I think it’s really badass that Unbound is this serious, the racing has become so professional, so to speak. Because winning this race, can you actually change a rider’s life. It’s not a big deal, it’s a HUGE deal to win it. So obviously, this professionalism and racecraft will follow. But it begs the question, has it any different gravel racing unique to any other?
I think so. Personally, I was a bit unsure of what to think about USA gravel after Unbound. I was contemplating my approach to the racing thinking: OK, If I need to focus on this next year, do I need to invest my ability with these guys? As a European-based rider, what will it take for this level of investment-wise? Well, Ivar Slik won as a non-American, so that says a lot, and also says you don’t need all these accoutrements to win, but for sure, they help.
The week after Unbound, I headed to the Belgium Waffle Ride in North Carolina only to be met with the exact opposite style of event. No team feed zones. No spare wheels. No pressure washes and also, much less pressure. The course was actually way more interesting, the race vibe was chilled, the venue was like a big party and the racing? The racing was lit! So was it the same? Not at all. The heads of state in terms of pros were all just smashing each other, every climb, every downhill, every moment. The winner Pete Stetina showed a masterclass of timing when he attacked our front group. After the race, chill vibes only and everyone was just enjoying the tales of the day’s effort. It was serious racing, 100%, but I turned up with a bike bag and a kit and managed to get a second. It felt like the playing field was equal. It felt like (I am sorry) the spirit of the sport was exactly what you see and hear about online.
So no, gravel isn’t becoming too professional. I don’t think at all. However, Unbound is a beast of its own, a standalone event with so much build-up, so many commercials and personal interests that it has in fact become much of what we have thought gravel was counter-culture to. But does that change my dream to go back? No. Does it change how awesome the event is? No. Would I ever say Unbound is still the most important race to win? Absolutely. It’s just a class of its own, a tidal wave that now can’t be stopped.
But are the riders that first turned ground on the 200-mile epic 16 years ago on janky bikes with cantilever brakes feeling the same as me about their old favourite band? Well, they’re probably not even on social media so who knows. But maybe, just maybe, they miss the old vibe. But hey, to steal a line from Passenger, maybe overthinking this whole thing with the simple yet poignant sentiment to just ‘let her go’.