Day at Unbound Gravel (100miles)

This article was first published on Cyclowired on 01 October 2025 in Japanese. It has been translated and published here with permission from the Editor in Chief of Cyclowired - Mr Ayano Makoto. - translated via Google Translate.

I’m reporting back from the CW editorial team’s ride — I (Ayano) took on the 100-mile race at Unbound Gravel, North America’s biggest gravel event. This was my fourth straight year entering the same distance. This time around, I pretty much settled all the media-related tasks and just focused on racing — and it paid off: I achieved my fastest time ever. In this write-up, I’m sharing my experience and the equipment I used (plus all the tips I picked up along the way).

The Unbound Gravel 100-mile race is often considered a more accessible entry point into ultra-endurance gravel racing. While the original Unbound Gravel event, previously known as the Dirty Kanza, started with a 200-mile (approximately 321 km) route in 2006, the 100-mile (approximately 160 km) race was introduced in 2013 to offer a more accessible challenge for many riders.

Despite being half the distance of the original race, the Unbound Gravel 100 still presents a significant challenge. The course is renowned for its challenging terrain, including gravel roads and varying weather conditions, which can make the race particularly demanding even for experienced riders.

In summary, while the Unbound Gravel 100-mile race is shorter than the original 200-mile event, it remains a formidable test of endurance and is considered a suitable challenge for those looking to push their limits in gravel racing.

The 200-mile Unbound Gravel race is brutal—physically, mentally, and technically. You can't just rely on motivation or momentum; serious preparation is a must if you want to finish. In contrast, the 100-mile race is much more doable. With some solid training, it's not too hard to complete, and if you're feeling good, you can even enjoy it.

As a media person, there's also the perk of being able to cover the 200-mile race or other categories after finishing the 100. Sure, I'd love to kick back with a beer and relax post-race, but I can always save that treat for later. This year marks my fourth consecutive year participating in the Unbound 100-mile race while also covering it.

In the past three races, I turned my personal ride reports into work, so I’d often stop during the ride to take photos. But this year, I planned to focus my coverage on three riders from Nornja, Shunya Nagata, and Yamakensan from XL. That meant I could concentrate on my own ride during the race. And since finishing quickly would also help with the coverage, it was a rare opportunity for me to just ride without extra pressure.

My training and conditioning leading up to the race were on point — I even dropped 3 kg through diet (nothing crazy, just skipping meat and fried stuff). I’ve never been this well-prepped in the past. Since I’m not a full-time racer, I rarely get to do so much pre-race work. Given my age, I figured this might be my last big race, so I went all in.

I flew in Tuesday and managed three shake-out rides before race day. Jet lag seemed to be recovering fine — until the night before, when I got hit with mysterious leg cramps and insomnia. Travelling to the U.S. always throws off my rhythm and acclimation.

The dorm room at Emporia University had the AC blasting too much, which was annoying, but still better than being overheated.

I used the same CHAPTER2 KAHA frame and Shimano GRX Di2 groupset as last year. For the wheels, I went with DT Swiss GRC 1100 DICUTs and Maxxis REAVER tyres—both race-ready choices. I kept my gear minimal, focusing on essentials for nutrition and flat repairs. It’s a bit of a gamble, but I prioritised keeping the bike light. That means I had to be extra cautious on the ride.

Woke up at 4 a.m. and had a solid carb-heavy breakfast three hours before the race. The weather was perfect—ideal conditions with no concerns about the famous "peanut butter" mud.

After watching the pro and 200-mile riders head off, I spent about an hour and a half in the media room before heading to the start. The lineup was already packed, but I managed to squeeze into the front group, aiming for a sub-6-hour finish (sorry, not sorry).

Lesson learned: The start line scramble is real. If you want a good spot, get there at least an hour early.

At 7:30 a.m., around 1,500 riders took off together. The front group set a brisk pace, averaging 37 km/h during the first hour. It felt like a road race, with everyone riding in tight formation. I focused on staying in the draft and moving up through the pack without burning too many matches.

Instead of just hammering it, I used smart line choices to maintain speed through corners and avoid braking. On descents, I dropped my seatpost and tucked in for an aero advantage, passing riders smoothly and conserving energy. It was all about making small, efficient moves to keep advancing without overexerting myself.

What worked especially well was using the grassy inside line on corners to maintain speed without braking too much. Since there are a lot of 90° turns, riders not used to gravel tend to slow down a lot. My cyclocross experience helped me pick the right lines here. Of course, my usual gravel rides also paid off.

Gravel racing isn't just about fitness. It requires a solid understanding of tyre pressure, bike setup, gear mounting, nutrition, and troubleshooting. All these little things add up and make a difference. That's why it's important to keep learning and experimenting.

By focusing on efficiency and pushing forward, I eventually found myself in the lead group.

Compared to my physical weakness, the only riders around me were strong, fast, and skilled. In a tightly packed group, crashes are inevitable. I fell off the back of the group about five times in the first hour, splitting the pack each time, using up a lot of energy to get back on.

It was a close call, but fortunately, I avoided every crash. However, once I stopped, catching up with the pack forced me to use my legs too much. Even with the pack's high pace, I was using my legs, and even though I was practicing energy-saving techniques, I was already starting to feel cramps, even though it was still early in the race...

Enduring over 20 cramps...

At the 40km mark, my legs were already starting to cramp. The group was accelerating, and I decided that if I continued to follow them, I would destroy myself, so I decided to leave the leading group after about two hours. My average speed for the first hour was a staggering 37km/h! When I compared it later, I found that it was an average of 2km/h faster than the 200-mile class. I guess the intensity is higher in the 100-mile race because the distance is shorter.

Having managed to stay in the lead pack of just under 100 riders up to this point, it seemed I had pulled away from the rest of the pack. Even after I was on my own, it was a long time before anyone caught up with me. My speed was so slow now that I was alone... I had completely stalled. There were still 130km to go.

Every time a small group of people caught up with me from behind, I would try to accelerate to jump on the train. I would hang on for a while, then fall behind again as my legs cramped.

At the aid station at the halfway point, I picked up my hydration bag from the bag drop and put it on. However, the two bottles I had left were not filled with water. I can't blame the volunteers. Next time, I might put up a large note or use the service provided by the local club, 3feet. I was disappointed that I didn't get the ice-cold can of Coke I was looking forward to. However, I managed to set off again with the least amount of time lost.

Just when I thought I'd recovered, my legs started to cramp again, so I continued to ride on despite the pain. Someone called out, "Recover on the hill!" and I followed that call, pedalling lightly, trying not to push too hard on the uphill sections, but the repeated hills inevitably made my legs cramp...

In the end, my legs cramped more than 20 times that day, and I cried out in agony every time. I think the strain of the first two hours was too much.

As I neared the end, my pace averaged out, and I regained my strong pedalling style. Whenever I found someone who was at the same pace as me, I would say, "Let's go together," and we would rotate, but as I picked up speed I would get carried away and push off the pedal, my legs would cramp, and I would endure the pain while forcing my legs to move, so I continued to ride patiently.

Last year I felt like I had ridden better and it was easier, but before I knew it, I was running at a pace 30 minutes faster than last year at the same point. In the second half, I focused on maintaining my current pace without pushing myself too hard to avoid cramping. It was like using up my savings little by little.

The temperature rose in the afternoon, and it got quite hot, but thankfully, I was able to keep up with my hydration and energy intake. Last year, I learned that nutrition can be difficult to swallow unless it's in liquid form. Toward the end of the race, I chose gels with a high caffeine content to stave off drowsiness and maintain my pace. Reaching for a bottle can be a pain when off-road, so frequently refilling my water from the hydration pack on my back was also helpful.

I was feeling excited as I approached the last 10km, but I was wary of cramping, so I didn't increase my pace, and I think it was the right decision to stay calm and keep going at an even pace.

My final mistake was when, after going over the final hill, I bluntly entered the same course as last year, which runs through the campus of Emporia University. The course had changed from previous years due to construction work. There were no riders in front of or behind me, and the road signs were confusing.

A guard from outside the course opened the fence so I could return to the final straight, but the time loss was painful. I later reported to the organisers that the sign was in a misleading position, and they apparently fixed it immediately.

I finished the race on a crowded city street, with a lively MC chanting my name. I was delighted to be greeted at the finish by Nic Legan of Shimano North America, who has been my inspiration and advisor for our gravel feature projects for the past four years. This legend taught me everything about gravel culture.

Results & Data

Time: 6:24:12

Elevation gain: 1,542 m (Strava)

Average speed: 27.27 km/h Distance: 174.52 km (Strava)

311/1,445 all participants

266/1,125 men participants

58/324 men in the M50-59 category

My goal was to cut 30 minutes off last year’s time (which I had evaluated mid-race), and I ended up shaving 29 minutes. That makes this year’s result about two hours faster than my 2022 debut. Favourable weather conditions also made a significant difference.

After the finish, I had some free time, but there were so many people that I went to retrieve my camera and work equipment that I had left in the press centre, and I ended up getting separated from the Filipino athlete who had been leading me for a long time in the final stages and whom I had intended to thank later.

After the race, it was time for coverage.

I quickly returned to the dorm, showered, changed, and then drove to the final 10km to begin filming. Just as I'd simulated, everything went perfectly, and I was able to capture my teammates finishing behind me.

However, in the scorching heat as the temperature rose towards the evening, I shot from the shade of my Chevrolet SUV, but there was nothing to block the intense western sun, and I almost got heatstroke. But I managed to get almost 100% of the shots I could take, so mission accomplished. I chased after Junya Nagata, who had returned in roughly the expected time, and photographed him, meeting him at the finish line.

Nagata had given it his all, to the point where he was unable to move for a while. We've been riding together on gravel for the past year, aiming to get to this day together, so my eyes welled up as I shot.

When I returned to the lodging, I realised that each of my three friends had had a dramatic story, and I was reminded once again of the difficulties of being at Unbound.

Nobu completed the longest XL distance despite suffering from heatstroke. Tam crashed after failing to avoid a rider who had fallen in front of him, forcing him to retire at the 80km mark. And Junya Nagata was burned out. All three of them regularly ride together, and had arrived at this day with many different thoughts at the end of a long day. Tam, with his arm in a painful sling, was already fired up for revenge next year.

Balancing Authentic Gravel Experiences with Reporting

I feel like I've accomplished my goal of bringing the world's premier gravel event to Japan, so this will be my last. Over the past few years, I've used various methods to create feature articles to convey the authentic worldview to Japan. This was another unbounded expedition that gave me a sense of accomplishment both as a hobby and for work.

After returning home, I was basking in the afterglow of the race as I wrote the feature article, but perhaps the strain of the race was too great, as I developed severe back pain and suffered. I still suffer from symptoms similar to a slipped disc. I realised that I shouldn't get carried away and push myself too hard.

For those considering participating in Unbound Gravel.

Unbound Gravel, one of the most popular gravel races, has traditionally allowed Japanese participants to join by simply registering. This was part of the event organiser's efforts to internationalise the race and attract more riders from various countries. As a result, approximately 20 riders from Japan were able to participate this year.

However, there appears to be an unofficial cap on the number of international participants, and at least four Japanese applicants were not selected through the lottery system. It's worth noting that the chances of being selected in the lottery are generally lower for European and American riders. For these riders, securing a spot often requires participating in qualifying races or attending the spring training camps, which come with high entry fees, to earn eligibility.

In summary, while Unbound Gravel has been accessible to Japanese riders in the past, the increasing popularity and demand for the event have led to more competitive entry processes, including lotteries and qualification requirements.