Mid South Gravel
The world's best bike race?
If you want to know how to put on a bike race, come to Stillwater - a small city an hour north of Oklahoma City.
This weekend has been the best bike race experience of my life. A pro race, an amateur race, a concert, a party, an expo, a community. The list can go on, but Mid South is the true spirit of gravel. Check out their Instagram to see what I mean.
From the first elite racer to cross the line, to the DFL (Dead Fucking Last) party for the thousandth plus rider who comes in hours later. Mid South is a party, and it’s how you put a bike race on.
It all starts on Thursday afternoon with the Denim Ride. Friday brings a 50km running race as well as music and organised pre-race rides. Saturday is the main event: the 100-mile, and 50-mile Gravel race.
The race was good. It was hectic.
We all knew it was going to be a carnage day when the Trek Driftless guys (Trek’s new Gravel team where the day’s eventual winner would come from) were sat on the start line with rollers. The spirit of gravel was well and truly out of the window, we were lining up 45 minutes before the start like anxious juniors.
At the Mid South, everyone starts together. The main contenders in the elite fields make their way to the front, but there are no call-ups, no gridding, and no gender-split. Neutral was as carnage as you expect given the thousand-plus riders.
We swing a right-hand turn out of neutral and immediately it’s race on. There’s dust everywhere. It’s impossible to see. It’s a race of positioning for the first half an hour to the river crossing. Stay far enough forward not to go into the ‘washing machine’ of the peloton, all while staying far enough back not to burn any matches.
It's a sweeping left downhill into the river crossing. The jostling for position gets worse as the rutty red dirt the characterises Oklahoma starts to come into play. I reach the crossing just outside of the Top 10. There’s a grassy line to the right that is possible to ride if you get there in a good enough position. I was one of the last that could’ve ridden it, or so I thought. Some idiot comes dive-bombing up the inside and misjudges the turn. We all get off and run.
It’s not that much slower to run if you commit to running the full 30 metres. Some people thought it’d be faster to hop back on the bike mid-grass bank. They were wrong. The guy in front of me who tried to remount then proceeded to go head–over-handlebars into the water. Payson McElveen, the favourite of the day, commits to riding the water. He nails it and makes the front group. Respect.
I’m one of, if not the first rider not to make it across. All the top guys make the split, and with history showing the early move is usually the one that wins at Mid South, I go deep to close it. I’m fully in no-man’s land. Too far behind the front group to catch it, too far ahead of the chase to sit up. I go deep, probably too deep. At the time I think it’s an all-or-nothing chase. Luckily, the big (and motivated) chase group catch me. After a half hour or so of swapping pulls, we catch the front group.
To be brutally honest, I’m fucked at this point. I’d gone deep to try and close the gap myself, and I tried to bridge over to the move with a couple of others when the motivation went out of the chase too. It all came back together in the end, but I spent a few too many matches. All the decisions I made were right at the time, but this time I should’ve bluffed and gotten the free ride.
It’s not easy once it bunches together. We have a group of forty to fifty and the attacks keep flying. This race is often characterised by the wind. But, with a windless day on the cards, it proved difficult to split.
At some point before the half-way marker, a solo rider makes a move. There’s little-to-no impetus in the bunch behind to chase, and there’s a lot of negative racing going on. I bridge over, it’s a nothing to lose scenario, and it pays dividends in about 10km time.
My breakaway companion tells me as soon as I arrive that he’s just looking to get ahead for the dodgy double track section that’s coming up. This is one part of the course that I didn’t recon, so I take his word. We trade turns, and once we arrive at the section he mentions I’m glad we’re ahead.
We cruise through easily, picking our lines and having the odd chat as we cruise through. There are what can only be described as craters on the right hand side. If you’d have hit one, it wouldn’t just be a race over but it’d be a visit to the hospital - either for yourself or your poor bike.
We emerge out the other side alone, with a charging front group rapidly catching us. We smile, take a gel on and wait for them to get to us. His plan perfectly worked, I might have spent too many matches early on, but that little attack saved me a bucket load of matches.
From here, it was a pretty non-plus race. The group was that awkward size. Sometimes we’d get a little gap, then it’d sit up and groups would come back. There were a few promising moves, but each time the elastic looked like it’d snap, riders would sit up, and the chase group come back. It was frustrating, but so be bike racing.
With some 30-40km to go, the Aussie National Gravel Champ, Connor Sens, makes a move. We’re leaving him out to dry, and he’s dangling a few hundred metres ahead of the group. I bridge over with one other, and we start to work.
The plan here was similar to what I’d done earlier in the race. Get ahead through a key section and hope I’m ahead of the split. You see, with 15km to go, there’s a single-track section where the race usually splits. I knew that I was going to lose time there, and I knew there was going to be a split. I hoped that getting a little gap would put me on the right side of that split.
We were caught a few kilometres before the single track. Just before a sandy climb, and a fast tail-crosswind section. In hindsight, we went wayyy too early. You live and you learn. I’m struggling to stay in the front group of 15. I’ve spent almost all my matches at this point, and I’m just trying to kid myself that they won’t go full gas into the single track.
Of course, they go full gas. Instead of heading into it ahead, or even in a good position. I go into it dead last in the front group. I’m dead, four of us come out of it together and ride home. Two of those guys attack. I find myself riding in with former road-pro, Ted King, as my Di2 randomly dies in the last few kilometres. We pick up pre-race favourite Payson McElveen fifteen minutes from home - he punctured out of the front group.
We roll in together smiling and chatting. The ex-World Tour guy, one of the best gravel riders in the world and little me. I joke to them that I’m too old for the road and still to young for gravel, they smile back.
We try to “tie” and cross the line at the exact same time. We’re close, but only one of us can take the illustrious prize of 12th place. Somehow, that’s me. I’m claiming it as a winning a sprint, I don’t get to do many of those.
I get a bear hug from organiser, Bobby Wintle. He hugs every single person who finishes the running race on Friday, and the bike race on Saturday. That’s an awful lot of hugs. The full race epitomises Bobby’s personality, it wouldn’t be the same without him. A beer gets put into my hand, and I down it instantly.
We’re done.
–
Away from the racing, Mid South really got me thinking - How the hell do I show this to the rest of the world? The US Gravel scene is unique. The event is set-up for the masses to enjoy, there just happens to be a pro-race at the front. After the race, everyone is hanging out at the finish line drinking beers, exchanging war stories and cheering on those further down the field.
The party goes long into the night as the DFL crosses the line some time around midnight. I’m tucked up in bed, but you can be sure that they got the biggest of hugs, and the biggest of parties. World Tour winner or first time rider, every person matters at Mid South Gravel - that’s why it’s great.
–
I’ve got a lot more racing to come in the US this year. The racing over here suits me better as a rider, it’s also so much bigger and so much better than what we have in Europe. People just get it.
I’ve made no secret that my goal is to be the UK’s first big successful privateer. That means a bit of everything: a competitive racer who is consistently at the front, producing good content to show the world what it is all about and then finally, being able to make it my full-time job.
There were so many little, off-bike bits, that Mid South taught me too. For example, you have to be prepared ahead of the event with a photographer on course to look out for you. It’s all well and good putting a good performance together, but the sponsors need to see it!!
Mid South Gravel opened my eyes even more to the fact that this is where I want to be, and this is the kind of racing I want to be doing.
Project TAG, proudly partnering (both for my athletic and influencing ability) with…
While you’re here…
I’ve added both a paid subscription and a ‘Buy Me A Coffee’ link to this post. As the year progresses, I’m planning on building this blog and putting out articles which I’ve always wanted to write but for whatever reason, haven’t wanted to pitch.
Any money that I make from either my Substack or BMaC link will go straight back into supporting my 2024 racing project. I am planning on keeping all content on here free to view though.
Congrats on the finish! And great write-up!