The Traka 360
Assuming an average cadence of 85rpm on Saturday I approximately clocked up 84,150 pedal rotations and burnt around 13,000 calories.
There is wanting to push yourself then there is thinking trying to ride 360 kilometers nearly entirely off road in one day is a good idea.
The Traka 360 has gained the reputation of being one of the greatest gravel events on the calendar and with it only being in its third year I believed the hype and thought why not? Maybe I underestimated just how hard it was going to be, it’s just like a small week's training in one go, surely that’s not too difficult?
4.20AM the alarm goes off. Having crashed on a mate's sofa in their front room I’ve had better nights sleep but there is no denying that an alarm at that time is never going to be easy to rise to, especially knowing what lies in front of you. The advertisement for coffee and cake helped me gather some motivation to roll through the sleeping streets of Girona to the start line. Low and behold there were stacks of profiteroles and chocolate covered pastries as well as freshly squeezed orange juice and of course the star of the show, a rocket espresso machine for one of the greatest espressos I have experienced.
One thing to note, this is a race, something I wasn’t quite aware of how serious that would be taken before I got to the start line and equipped with over 11,000 calories worth of snacks, multiple tools, lights, battery packs and a camera it was fair to say I was pretty loaded up in comparison to the surrounding riders who some only seemed to be carrying two water bottles and a tonne of gels. Risk vs reward comes into play at this point and within the first 30km I passed numerous riders stranded on the road side without the tools needed to power them through the next 330km. I was here for the get round and let me tell you that nearly didn’t happen even though I was loaded up with more pastries and snacks than the Lidl bakery.
As the anticipation started to rise and gels began to be popped riders started to gather on the start light, creating an exhibition of some of the nicest gravel bikes I have had the opportunity to witness gleaming in the moonlight. Nervous energy, yet determination and cheerful chatter filled the air before the commentator's voice boomed over the loudspeaker, announcing the imminent start of the race. The countdown commenced, head units were being started and front lights were being turned on.
The starting gun fires and we are off for what might be one of the toughest challenges I ever take on.
Navigating the empty streets of Girona with the help of a police escort the gravel roads soon beckoned and so did the hills. Leaving the comforting urban streets it wasn’t long before the gas started to be turned on and everyone was jostling for positions, the first hour was a real yo yo effect. Riders obviously from a road background would come sprinting past on the climbs before being left in the dust on the descents before sprinting back past again, obviously unaware how far was left going by how hard they were breathing only 30 minutes in.
It wasn’t long before the initial surges began to settle and the groups started to find their rhythms. With 15 hours in the saddle still ahead at this point and the toughest climbs still to come saving as many matches as possible was crucial. Surfing the wheels ahead it wasn’t long until the first problem of the day occurred.
Steep climbs, sharp descents and ever changing weather conditions, the route presented a various array of challenges and Joe’s brand new tyres were soon the first victim of the day with a slice to the side wall of the rear tyre. Out came the tyre plugs from the bottom of my frame bag and before long the hole was filled and the air held so we could resume the adventure.
Confidence is a brilliant thing and arguably one of the most important factors when it comes to ultra endurance events. Thinking too hard about what’s still to come in your head will make you suffer more than anything else, group the ride into chunks that are not only more manageable in your mind but also help manage your nutrition and pacing strategies will make the challenge far easier.
For me this involved breaking the ride down into the five feed stations, the first of these coming 90km into the route. A quarter of the way done, morale was good and physically I was feeling pretty solid. At this point the sun had only just started to appear over the mountains behind and it wouldn’t be long until it would be beaming down above us. Luckily I managed to fish out the sunscreen and after quickly applying the factor fifty it was time to hit the climbs for real.
What came next was the second section of the ride, from feed one to two the route navigated the coastline for 80 kilometers in which time we would rack up over 2,000 meters of climbing in 30 degree heat. Only 7 days prior to the Traka had I done a 200 kilometer gravel race in Scotland where the maximum temperature didn’t even hit 10 degrees, so it's fair to say I wasn’t best prepared. 20km before the feed I had already gulped down my 3 liters of water I had been carrying, it will only be 45 minutes before I can fill them up again it won’t be that bad i told myself.
The only way of describing what lay in front of us was a brick wall. The average gradient was in the double digits and being 5km long it was punishing, especially for the fact you could just make out a line of cyclists in the distance pushing their bikes up the steepest parts. Over 20 minutes of grinding out my 36 rear cog I made it to the top, ready to descend and chow down some pasta and rice at the next feed station.
On paper the third section presented itself as being the easiest, 75km and only 300 meters of climbing. Easy? Well you would think so.
Throughout a race so long the range of emotions are a roller coaster. At this point it was officially the longest I had ever ridden for in terms of time and with 200 kilometers still left to go what lay ahead was very much unknown territory and it wasn’t long until I was in a very, very deep hole.
Between the first and second feed the sunscreen had somehow fallen out of my pocket and with no shade to hide under the suffering intensified. I touched on the amount of food I had packed earlier, for an event of such distance eating enough is the biggest challenge. Something I have never struggled with in the past I thought I would be fine and with over 11,000 calories packed of various snacks I thought I would be covered.
Sadly I was wrong, the confidence I had carried from the first half soon started to drain out of me as I struggled to get enough food down. Every time I reached for a bar or croissant the thought made me want to vomit and it didn’t take long before I was starting to bonk really hard and coupled with the heat the sensations were intensified even greater. With my vision starting to go, the third feed station was one of the greatest reliefs I have experienced.
Exhaustion had really gotten the better of me at this point, having already been out on our bikes for 11 hours there was still another hilly 110 kilometers to go. A bowl of plain white rice in one hand and a cup full of coke in the other, creates a pretty accurate representation of a cracked man.
The wonders that coke did were unbelievable, referred to as the red ambulance by Alan Murchinson it really did help me get out of one of the biggest holes I have ever dug myself into. At this point the aim was very much on survival, with a storm brewing in the distance and rain forecasted I was on one side hoping it would bucket it down to help cool me off and also help make me feel better about carrying a waterproof around with me for the past 13 hours, yet the idea of descending the final few descents in the rain spurred us on.
Up, up and up. With Joe’s speaker in his back pocket and the tunes blaring he was soon referred to as the official Traka DJ by some of the riders we passed. It wasn't long before a few of us had grouped together on the final main climb of the day, exchanging stories with fellow Brits helped to pass the time and distract from the pain.
Cresting the summit of the climb whilst also finally clambering out of my own metaphorical hole the darkness began to descend on us. That was no worry for me, with three front lights packed I was spoilt for choice and luckily so as the final 60 kilometers navigated through woodlands and rivers. With no light pollution all we had guiding us was the light from my helmet lighting up the 50 meters of gravel in front of us.
Up to this point the gravel had been as pleasant as gravel comes, fast rolling and smooth with only the occasional large rock or protruding tree branch to avoid we had been pretty spoiled. This was soon switched with the rutted gravel roads we were now being faced with. Tired eyes and empty heads whilst attempting to fully concentrate on what you're about to encounter is a tricky skill, especially when all you have to go on is a small line on your Garmin that is attempting to direct you the correct way down a track you have never ridden in your life.
A white space is the only way to describe the final two hours. They were over in a blur, yet if you were to ask me what we talked about or which way we went I would have zero recollection. On an easy spin today we rode part of the final hour, something I was totally unaware of until we passed the donut factory and the distinctly sweet smell that filled the air led to a flashback of me wanting to vomit at the smell of sugar 16 hours into the ride.
At this point we were into the very early hours of Sunday morning but the signs of Girona started to guide us into our final destination and across the finish line of the event we had started in the early hours of Saturday. I would like to say the crowds went wild but in reality there was no one there and for that I don’t blame them, presented with a mug attached to a piece of string to honor the adventure I had officially completed the Traka 360.
I don’t think I have done a very good job at selling this whole ultra endurance adventure side of cycling to people and yes I agree with the people who told me I was pretty crazy at taking on such a thing but sitting down here now two days later although still aching I have some unforgettable memories.
A bike is a wonderful thing and I don’t think it's appreciated just how versatile one is, especially a gravel bike until you do a day out like the Traka. Even though after over 16 hours of riding and over 18 hours of elapsed time we ended up at the place we started, the places we saw and scenery we witnessed was something else. So here is to cheers on an absolutely brilliant event and a thanks to my Ribble Gravel SL-Pro for being faultless the whole way around.
Now what is the next challenge?
