EMPORIA, KANSAS: I can hardly believe it. We’re in the middle of a 200-mile race—one of the toughest gravel events on the planet—and yet we’re riding like it’s just a 70-miler. The pace is relentless. We’re flying across the rugged trails and rolling green fields of the Flint Hills like we’re chasing a finish line that’s far closer than it is. Ever since the 5:50 AM rollout from downtown Emporia, it’s been full gas.
READ FIRST: 100-mile breakaway in Unbound 2024
My plan A was to make an early breakaway, just like last year. It would still be a hard day, but if I got away with a small group, we could ease off a bit on the climbs and push more consistently on the flats and descents. That way, I’d save energy.
And I did try. I followed several early moves, then attacked at the same spot as last year with Jan Stoeckli—my breakaway buddy from Traka 360. I know how strong he is and that he can keep a solid pace. We got a decent gap, but then he decided to sit up and wait for the group behind. I kept going solo for a while and passed the first checkpoint in the lead, but eventually, the chase group caught me. First 10, then 20. By the time we hit the Kaw Trail—the first rough section of the day—we were 25 riders.
It felt different this year. No one took charge, so it was fireworks from the start. The gravel was dry and fast, but in the Divide Road, the wheel tracks were as slippery as fresh snow. I barely managed to stay upright and lost all my speed heading into the next climb. That’s where I lost the first group.
Unlike many races, Unbound is never settled. I thought I might not catch the front again after almost crashing. But then Keegan Swenson and Torbjørn Røed came with a group from behind. I tried to hang on when they passed. Made it.
Unbound is just as chaotic as it looks from the outside. It’s nearly impossible to keep track of who’s where. Some riders are out with mechanicals, others are getting dropped from the relentless pace. Everyone has highs and lows. You can feel great one mile and like you’re done the next.
– JOOONAAS!
We approach the first aid station, and Troy—one of the Felt guys—shouts my name. These aid stations aren’t feed zones. They’re Formula 1 pit stops.
We execute just like we practiced the day before. I throw my hydration pack and bottles. Then I stop next to Troy. He hands me a new pack, and while I’m quickly putting it on, he drops bottles in my cages and hands me some rice cakes and a gel. As I grab them, our mechanic Will lubes my chain. I’m rolling in under 10 seconds. I’m back in the front group—now around 40 riders strong.
The temperature is in the 80s (25ºC) and rising. Soon we are in the 90s.
This year, like last year, the course heads north from Emporia. It’s hillier than the southern route, especially up here where we’re approaching now. For the first time, the pace in the front group dips a little. A few riders take the chance to pee. But the calm doesn’t last long—others attack straight after. I don’t see the exact move go, but riders around me say three guys are off the front.
The peloton—where I am—settles for a moment, but the speed stays high. Every time we take a left and the wind hits us, people try to split the group in the crosswinds. Some riders drop off, but most get back on after each surge.
I’m still feeling strong. Looking around, I can tell it’s just the strongest riders left—those who survive days like this. It’s a good feeling.
– Biiip.
My Bryton S810 tells me to make another left turn. I glance down—100 miles ridden, 101 to go. Almost halfway, but we’re racing like we’re already in the final stretch.
The hardest part of the northern course is probably Little Egypt—about five miles of rolling climbs, a lot of it on the loose double track. Plus, you usually get hit with a headwind at the top. It’s a decisive section. Last year, we got caught by the peloton right here. This year, I’m praying I can hold on.
The first part of the climb is decent gravel. But with so many tired legs, people are already starting to let the group go. I have to dig deep to close the gaps. I know I should move up and avoid getting stuck behind slower riders, but I can feel my energy draining. So instead of wasting effort, I decide to sit on the wheels of strong guys—ones I know can close a gap if it opens. Brennan Wertz is one of them. He’s a powerhouse on the flats, but I think I can hang on uphill and use his draft if needed.
Just like I feared, the real climb hits and gaps start opening fast. I focus everything on staying on the wheel in front of me. I’m now behind Tobin Ortenblad, Keegan Swenson’s loyal teammate. More riders are struggling, and another gap opens. I stick to Tobin’s wheel, hoping Brennan soon sets the pace again. Then I see Simen Nordahl Svendsen—the 2024 Gravel Earth Series and Gravel Worlds winner. That’s a great wheel. We form a small group chasing the front pack of 20–25 riders.
I don’t panic—I know we’ll catch them.
A few miles later, we do. Perfect.
READ ALSO: Breaking away in Traka360
The course flattens out a bit, and now it’s key to stay in a big group. We fly past the natural water stop. No one is stopping. Left turn, right turn—then a long stretch opens up ahead. Suddenly, the pace kicks up again. It’s crosswind. And someone’s trying to split it.
This time, I can’t find the right wheels. My legs blow up. I get dropped.
This is my fourth Unbound. Every edition is different, but one thing never changes—it feels endless. I’ve never been this deep in a hole during a race.
First, I start passing 100-mile riders. Then, I get passed—by fit riders, sure, but not racers. I’m crawling. Slower than I go on recovery rides. My legs just stop working. It feels like riding in a sauna. I pull over to the side of the road. Take off my helmet. Take a breath. This is surreal. Just hours ago, I was racing at the front with the best gravel riders in the world. Now I’m watching weekend warriors and first-timers pass me. All respect to them—but I didn’t come all the way to Emporia for this.
After a short pause, I put my helmet back on and start pedaling again. Finally, the Coke and Red Bull I had at the Felt pit 10 miles ago start to kick in. I still feel nauseous, but at least I’m moving.
Suddenly, four riders come past—and I latch on. It’s Jan Stoeckli, the legend Mattia de Marchi, and two others. I don’t know why they’re back here, but they’re riding well. Not so fast that I can’t hang on and do short pulls. We’re on the final 30 miles—mostly flat, with a tailwind back to Emporia. I badly need this train. It’s still brutally hot, but I feel a spark of motivation again.
– Please, go ahead of me. I’m not sprinting, I tell the others as we hit the final 5 miles. I’m completely empty, but I’m holding on for that last hill by Emporia State University. I just want to finish. Sitting behind the group helps me stay at speed. I haven’t eaten in an hour, my bottles are empty, and I don’t want anything with sugar left in it.
We turn right onto pavement—it feels amazing after 199 miles on gravel. Then a short gravel section again, but now I know where we are: the final two miles. I almost want to cry. But I’m too tired. I grind my way up the last hill.
And there it is—the finish line. Finally.
62nd isn’t the result I was aiming for, but just finishing Unbound is an achievement in itself. My fourth finish. 9 hours and 39 minutes.
I’m really proud of how I rode the first half. I just wish it had lasted—or at least that I hadn’t blown up so badly I was barely moving at times. I even had to stop for a moment. Still, being able to ride with that front group proves I’ve made real progress, especially in my anaerobic capacity and resilience. This was the fastest Unbound ever, with the strongest field to date. I averaged over 302 watts NP for the first 5 hours and spent a whole hour above 400 watts.
It’s definitely not getting any easier year by year, but even if my result was better last year, I know I’m stronger now. I just need to keep adapting my metabolism to handle the extra kJs I’m burning when I push higher power for longer.
I’m already looking forward to returning next year—to take revenge on those brutal last 80 miles. Even though I hit one of my lowest points in a long time, for what felt like forever, I still walk away with so many good memories from this year’s Unbound.
Huge thanks to Felt and Cadence Cyclery for all the support. And shoutout to CCN Sport for hooking me up with the best-looking kit of the weekend..
SEE MORE : My upcoming schedule
From the organizer:
“To be unbound is to be untethered and unrestrained. The term’s pre-12th century origins illicit notions of liberation and escape. Those who are unbound embrace life without limits or restrictions. The word owns many definitions and derivations, but each one ultimately reaches the same finish line.
To be unbound is to be free.
It’s the spirit that 4,000 riders bring with them to the Flint Hills of Kansas for one weekend each spring; the spirit of an event that began with 34 participants in 2006 and now stands as the “World’s Premier Gravel Event.” And so it is fitting that the event and its organization, the one embodied by a limitless ethos that calls Emporia home, now has a name to match its ferocious spirit.” -Emporia Gazette