Eighteen months ago I was scrolling through my Instagram feed, searching for something inspiring. Before you collectively groan and comment about all the negative effects this media has on our culture (with which I will likely agree), I want to stay glass-half-full here. In these snapshots of our world, I believe that the opportunity exists to inspire the adventurers of tomorrow. It inspired me to go on this journey and I bet many others have a similar story to share.
The image that caught my attention held the promise of a new challenge, an adventure, and the unknown. The idea at its core was something I had done before — ride my bike for a long time on questionable terrain. Challenging, yes. I knew that I could handle that part — at least mentally. The intriguing part about this particular bike ride was that it was going to be in Iceland. Initially, I had planned to just make a "quick trip" out of it — there and back for a long weekend. Upon telling my VERY patient wife that I got in, she clearly stated, “Like hell I was going to Iceland alone!” So it became a family adventure. This was extra special as my family had never been to a race, or seen me ride at an event and I was thrilled they were going to be at the finish line.
There are two main flavors for this adventure—100 and 200k. As I am predisposed to enjoying some self-punishment, I mean pushing myself mentally and physically, I signed up for the 200k and prepared for what was to come. The night before the race, I built my bike, laid everything out for the morning, and went for a casual ride to shake out and take some photos at 10:30 p.m., while it was oddly, still very light out.
The morning of the race rolled around and I was ready to go for the 7:30a start. Blue skies, big fluffy white clouds, a light breeze and about 50°F — perfect riding weather in my book. The course was a lollipop with an 8k stick at the beginning and end with a mix of gravel, full off-road glory and pavement between. The first 8k was on good old pavement. Turning off of the pavement and onto gravel, was a lot like slipping through the wardrobe to Narnia. It was familiar for a moment but the further down the gravel road I went, the more I realized this was going to be a ride like no other.
To replay every detail is really hard. It was all so surreal that I had to make a concerted effort to stop and soak in what I was looking at and what I was riding on. I crossed rivers fed by melting snowpack and glaciers. Rode on the remains of a volcanic eruption from thousands of years ago, reduced to a moonscape by weather and time. I watched sheep graze in alpine meadows high on the flanks of mountains. I rode on some of the absolutely most punishing washboard roads I have ever experienced and even got a small rainshower during the final 6k of the day. Then capped it off with a freaking rainbow as I crossed the finish line, got a hug from my family and ate a finish line hotdog (they’re a big deal in Iceland) to celebrate what was the most spectacular day I have ever had on a bike.
A huge thanks to Planet Gravel organizers, the volunteers staffing the 6 aid stations throughout the course, the Police, Iceland Search and Rescue and, the town of Hvollsvöllur for hosting 1200 riders from around the globe. This is a special place and an incredible place to ride. Thanks for helping to bring a dream to life. Keep dreaming, keep adventuring and above all, happy riding. For those interested, here is a rough overview of my setup for The Rift Gravel Race. Not comprehensive but hits the major pieces:
Bike: Salsa Warbird
Cargo: Route Werks Handlebar Bag (layers, food, spare battery, phone)
Computer: Garmin 840 Solar
Tires: Maxxis Reaver 700c x 40 (If I had this to do over, I would ride on 42 or 45s for just a bit more comfort.)
Kit: Velocio Thermal Bib shorts, Velocio Concept Merino Long Sleeve Jersey, Gore Vest
Water: USWE Outlander Pro, 2 Camelbak bottles
