The 2024 edition of the Gravel OneFifty was hardly allowed to bear the designation "gravel." Due to the massively fallen rain, the dirt roads around Peize, The Netherlands, had turned into grueling mud strips. This made it a tough test for participants and equipment.
© Gravel OneFifty / UCI Gravel World Series
The start was neutralized. Yes, for the competitors at the front of the age groups maybe, but then if you, as a 50+ group, had just under a thousand men in front of you it was "gas up that lollipop" from the start. The course at the beginning of the 151 kilometers resembled the video the organization had put on the site. Through a small tunnel, over a narrow bridge and onto a dirt road. And that's where the trouble began: in the video it was still a reasonably passable path, but after a thousand cyclists it had turned into a muddy mess.
The hard hitters flew past me as if the finish line was already in sight. I started a little more cautiously. On the paved sections, I chose to ride in the wheel and not go too crazy. On the unpaved lanes, it's every man for himself, and sometimes you have to slalom around fellow cyclists. Choosing the right line through the mud lanes is important. Do you choose the peanut butter mud, the water puddle, or try to take the narrow grass edge? In the winter, I always ride cyclocross races and have been for about 25 years. Although I am not at the front in these races, I do gain some skills, and that proved to be a big advantage during the mud run. When the roads were impassable for many and where fellow cyclists had to walk, I could stay on the bike in the smallest gear. Those gravel tires have very little grip, but still, I plodded on.
© Erik Scholtens
A 151-kilometer ride in these conditions became not only a physical challenge but also a mental test. Besides the grueling course, the changing weather conditions (from heavy driving rain to benevolent sunshine) and what felt like a constant headwind were a true test. And don't forget the challenge for the equipment: after fifty kilometers, I had run out of brake pads and could hear disc brakes grinding and chains groaning all around me under the effort cyclists were asking of them. There were also more than a few unseemly terms of strength when yet another knee—or worse—happened to a fellow participant.
After fifty kilometers, I was actually done with the hassle. Until the second care station at 85 kilometers and then back to Peize became the goal. At one point, I caught sight of CW colleague Hadassah. Despite all the sticking mud, the red outfit was unmistakable. Still, it took miles for me to close the last few hundred meters to her. Then, once again, she joined a group and rode further away. I hooked up with something and came back a bit. As we rode up together, we both complained about the conditions. I encouraged her, and she did the same for me. We agreed to go for the finish. Otherwise, I wouldn't have the complete experience for this article either, she reasoned correctly.
This experience only really became complete when I had to pass a walking couple on yet another muddy stretch. Not entirely illogically, they were walking on the only somewhat passable part of the course and thus in the way of the cyclists. Since it is also "not done" to bash the walkers aside, I tried to pass over a small ledge. The front wheel shot off (did I mention the lack of grip?) and I dove over the handlebars into the adjacent ditch. I went under, but I was already wet and dirty. Fortunately, the bike stayed on dry land, so I was able to continue quickly.
The further I got into the ride, the more riders I started to pick up. I managed to resist the allure of the ANWB mushrooms marked "Peize 4 km" and bravely struggled on. Of the riders who had started overconfidently, quite a few dropped back. Also nice to be the overtaker, rather than the overtaken. With the last of my strength, I made it across the hard road and with the wind at my back towards the start/finish location. But the last hundred meters at the event site had also been plowed into a mud bath. At a walking pace and with one more full stomp, the finish was a fact. And the finisher's medal really did become one of value for the achievement.
© Gravel OneFifty / UCI Gravel World Series
Note: In the evening, after the bike was shiny clean again, the mud clothes were in the washing machine, and I had scrubbed myself mud-free, I got an app from Hadassah: she crossed the finish line in third place in her category, beyond expectation! Unfortunately, she missed the podium ceremony but did qualify for the World Gravel Championships in Leuven!
All results can be found here.
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