The Spirit of Gravel is a Group Pee

The last time I started UNBOUND XL the calendar read 2023. All riders were positioned in the starting corral off of the main road, where the Granada Theater is perched to the side watching over downtown Emporia. It’s a safe bet that the 200 will always be the quintessential UNBOUND experience, but other events throughout the weekend earning their sliver of attention is uplifting across the board. It was the very next year, in fact, 2024, Lifetime found it worthwhile to launch a helicopter to celebrate the grand occasion. Additionally, the starting pen of eager riders ready to test themselves over 350 or so miles swelled in such a way that the XL earned its position on the famous start/finish chute through Commercial Street, adjacent the Granada, as the appropriate send off for the ultra distance riders.

Which, let’s be honest, comes at no surprise. It’s rare that as a humankind, we revert back to a slower, lesser, easier take on things. (That’s a challenge from me to you, fair reader: What can you think of that’s gone in the opposite direction of more/faster/greater over the course of time? Perhaps the pursuit of zen.) The speed and competition has only gone upward in the 200, so it was inevitable it would happen in the XL too.

Photos: @velophoto.tx

Having just said the 200 is the keystone event in Emporia, it would be a touch hyperbolic to say that in 2025 the XL has superseded the 200 in its growth and attention, but the gargantuan precedent on the competitive side of things has put the entire UNBOUND weekend on a pedestal that’s drawn into question the ethos of the entire racing experience.

And I realize it could be perceived that I’m talking out of both sides of my mouth to say that on one hand I enjoy competing, which is why I line up every year having done the training and am ready to race… while on the other hand I want all this gravel racing to be fun and have its spirit founded on a core, independent grittiness. Dare I say, its original spirit of gravel.

As a result I don’t take part in the weekend’s competition at the sake of all the good times that come with the entire experience. I like working the expo with UnTapped, for example. I attend a social event or two, attend a group ride, basically despite the precedent for performance I make sure I’m not living the life of a two-wheeled monk.

Photo: Aaron Davis

The XL’s 3pm start time ticks over with a peaceful tranquility. There’s no angst with the afternoon start, unlike that which comes in tandem with the pre-dawn UNBOUND 200. It’s more like a bubbling energy that comes from both the riders and crowd mid-afternoon. We start with a casual roll north on Commercial Street, accompanied by no fewer than two dozen police officers in cars, on bikes, and lining the side of the road — and with the Lifetime helicopter whooping overhead too. Within minutes we’re onto gravel and the speed picks up like a competitive group ride, not like neck-snapping crack of a whip.

Courtesy of professional horsepower and undoubtedly hurried ahead with aerobars, the front group whittles down quickly as we pick up speed. After three hours and carrying an average above 22mph we were making impressive headway. However, there’s no getting around that with 300 miles remaining, when nature calls you need to answer. In our rotating group of seven, general conversation was relatively infrequent so when Rob Britton drifted by me and audibly ruminated, “Soooo what’s the go with bathroom stops here?” it dawned on me to become the group’s patrón.

An aside — by the time you’ve gained proficiency to make your way into the front group of any distance at UNBOUND, you’ve undoubtedly practiced the art of relieving yourself off your bike at speed. (At least that’s the case for men; a trusted source tells me many women as well as the rumor of Dylan Johnson just let’r rip on themselves while on the bike.) Those practices skills include the foresight in choosing your spot on the road. You’ve learned the courtesy of gesturing to riders behind so they drift left and away from errant spray. There’s the three-point-stance position itself that’s been honed with enough repetition so as to keep yourself dry’ish. And so forth.

With Rob’s question and the realization that I could benefit from a pee myself, I just bellowed out, “Hey fellas! Whataya say we take a pisso here?!”

There’s something quirky and uplifting about being part a peloton. The rotation of a group relies on working with those you’re ultimately trying to defeat, for example. Offering a swig from your bottle to a thirsty adversary seems counterintuitive. A swift push on the back to help someone get back up to speed after a dropped chain is a sliver of compassion. Perhaps, though, more than any other act of community in the peloton, is the peaceful and wonderful 30 seconds it takes to stop and enjoy a collective peepee as a group.

So back out there on the gravel road, the group immediately grabbed a handful of brakes in unified agreement as we pulled over for a number-one stop.

I bring this up because this ain’t happening in the 200. By all accounts, this seems to occur less frequently in the World Tour. There’s become a precedent to maximize speed at all costs, and the consequence is that the element of humanity is oftentimes tossed out the window. I can think of a handful of other races I’ve been part of and this has happened and as much as it’s literal potty-talk, it only brings warm and fuzzy memories. It’s nice that at least for the time being, in the XL fits into this category where we can look out for each other while still pushing each other competitively.

Over the next couple hours, the lead group shrank even further so that there were just five of us at the century mark. My race for the win was unexpectedly extinguished when I polled the group asking when they would stop to refuel and I was flummoxed to hear how badly I was out-dueled. I brought nutrition for 108 miles, where there was a convenient store stop, but it hadn’t occur to me to bring nutrition for 200 miles, the location of the the subsequent store after the 108 mark. That’s the bar continuing to rise, the increased thoughtfulness and tactics coming into play at any event.

So can you have your cake and eat it too? I’m not pissing all over the hellbent competition of the 200. Most people are still having fun at that distance. I loved the focus and energy I put into it last year precisely because of the sky-high level competition. Fret not, gravel family, the plot isn’t lost entirely. I’m just seeing lots of pushback to it here in the immediate 2025 aftermath, that the 200 is becoming too fast and too dangerous. The mandatory self-supported nature of the XL still gives me hope for the spirit of gravel remaining alive and well.