Ultra cycling events held over hundreds or even thousands of km are very much in fashion with riding right now, but you don’t have to be an insomniac masochist with legs of mahogany to ‘go the distance’. In fact I’d argue the distance doesn’t matter at all, it’s just the ‘going’ that does.
Covering distance at speed has been part of classical history ever since the Greek messenger Pheidippides ran from the battle of Marathon to Athens to tell of the Persian defeat. Pretty much every culture from Celtic to Aboriginal has ancient tales of fabulous adventures beyond the known world too. In other words it’s fair to say that exploring and pushing beyond boundaries is an essential part of the human condition. While cars, trains, buses and planes have made distant travel easy and accessible for many, I still don’t think you can beat a bike - especially an off road one - for truly finding freedom. I find the increasing competitiveness and commercialism of distance riding disturbing though, because it goes against the whole ethos of truly exploring your surroundings and yourself.
It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot in the past three days gravel riding round southern Scotland with a pal. Fully immersed in the smells, sounds, weather and sensations of my surroundings but travelling many times the distance we could walk or run. And when a red squirrel, a stunning view or a cafe we weren’t expecting caught our eye we could stop immediately to make the most of it. No worrying about parking, narrow lanes or fuel, just the freedom to ride at the pace we wanted in total immersion, not glazed metal cage disassociation.
What I also learned over those three days was also a big surprise given my deep rooted head banger mindset. The shorter and easier the daily distance the more I enjoyed it. Sure doubling the length of my longest ride of the year on the first day gave me a sense of satisfaction once I’d done it. But it meant we darted in and out of convenience chains and petrol stations and abandoned queues for ice creams because the clock was ticking. We hammered transition sections head down, missing views and experiences that deserved more attention. We rode through some fabulous places, but we didn’t let them soak in fully.
The second day we had a little more slack so we took the scenic route and stopped for more pictures. Visited the butcher for a pie and the bakery for sandwiches to eat next to a waterfall in a nature reserve up the road. Rather than just grabbing a supermarket meal deal and forcing it down on the fly. We geared down on the climbs rather than gritting our teeth. Went for a bob in a river rather than watching our heart rates.
On the final day we doubled back to follow signs to beautiful hidden lochs. We stopped for too long chatting at a cafe and gallery, but that meant the family got much nicer presents than a petrol station apology on the way home. We peered in the window of the local bike shop, took our time in the artisan bakery. Petted a giant wickerwork cow sculpture and climbed up an ancient tower next to a deserted gravel down the middle road. In fact by the final climb I even let Graham’s wheel go as soon as he accelerated. Something normally unthinkable given my toxic mix of deep competitiveness and shallow ego. Over those three days the ‘distance to go’ counter had changed from something to be conquered to something to be savoured.
And I’m sure that when the route we were recce-ing launches this month it’ll be less than a week before someone smashes round the 320km in under a day to claim the FKT (Fastest Known Time). And if that’s how they choose to ride then I have zero issues with that. I’ve done stuff like sufferfest island laps myself in the past and I’ll admit there’s still definitely a temptation to see just how far/fast I could go if I focused hard enough.
What I think we should be very wary of though is gatekeeping or distorting the whole idea of distance cycling by making it competitive. We’re already seeing allegations of cheating marring the results at the prestigious Traka 200 and big name racers and serious sponsorship entering the scene like it did with MTB nearly 40 years ago. But much more venomous to the vibe is the increased messaging that more is always better. That 200km is far more impressive than 20km without even looking at the background or motivation of who’s done it. My mate Mike set a round the world record, the Grand Divide record, founded the Transcontinental Race and eventually gave his life to endurance racing on a dark road early in the morning in Australia. I have another mate who’s finally riding 20km through the woods again after years of health issues and working towards that target has saved his life. Other riders probably don’t even know how far they go, or even really where they went and they’re undoubtedly the freest of all of us.
And on the same note don’t let anyone tell you there’s a minimum kit list to going the distance. A pair of decent padded shorts and a pocket full of Haribo will get you further, more comfortably than jorts and an empty belly. But you don’t need 120g gels and aero socks to even think of exploring. You don’t even need a real plan. Just ride to the edge of where you know, and then go a bit further. Or if you want a bit more of a safety net, enter an event with different length routes to choose from. But when chests are being puffed out and fancy gear is being paraded around remember that going couch to 5km if you’ve never run before is just as impressive as a sub 2hr marathon if you’ve been a thoroughbred since you could toddle.
Because while exploring boundaries has always been a big part of the human story, every human has their own story and yours is as valuable and valid as anyone else’s.
