I rode the UK's most brutal gravel race and lived to tell the tale

For 51 weekends of the year, the tiny village of Gatehouse of Fleet in Dumfries and Galloway goes about its daily life far from pretty much anywhere. For one weekend a year, though, it becomes the home of the Gralloch, the UK’s only UCI Gravel World Series qualifier event and hosts some of the fastest riders in the world on 110km of relentless and stunning gravel roads.

This year, I lined up at the start to take on the course, and for any avoidance of doubt, I am not one of the fastest gravel riders in the world, so this would be a challenge. The field is broken down into age groups and an elite category for race whippets, which was stacked with former road pros, Olympic triathletes and full-time gravel racers.

Gravel racing used to be an unregulated subset of cycling that the governing body, the UCI, had yet to figure out what to do with. In an effort to bring some order to the various race calendars, the UCI introduced the Gravel World Series, with the key point being that if you finish in the top 25% of your age group, you qualify for the world championships.

You also get a chance to rub shoulders with the fastest riders from around the world. For this reason, the fields throughout the age groups are immensely strong, with everyone vying for a chance to qualify. I was under no impression that I’d qualify, but still wanted to ride a strong race and try to hang on with those around me.

Where Scotland meets suffering: Welcome to the Gralloch

My pre-race plan of hanging on went straight out of the window; the pace from the start was scintillating, with riders jostling for position through the tight and technical opening kilometre. It wasn't long before the gravel started, a 6km climb rapidly filtered out the bunch, and I found myself quickly towards the back.

The scenery was breathtaking, as was the climb, but riding through the pine trees through a thick cloud of dust that caught the watery morning sun was beautiful and a welcome distraction from the near-constant stream of riders blazing past.

Some 20 minutes later, the climb transitioned into the first descent of the day, a twisty yet wide forestry track that had riders littered left and right fixing their bikes. The gravel claimed many tyres throughout the day, but I managed to stay out of any trouble, the mechanical kind at least.

The next two hours were spent slogging up one hill, hanging on for dear life down the other side, and repeating. The scenery continued to be sensational. One minute, I was riding through wide open glens with views stretching miles, and the next, I was picking the smoothest line through a lochside path with the deep blue water looking so inviting and refreshing.

Scotland is famous for its weather, and not in a good way. Unpredictability is about the only thing you can rely on, but this weekend it was roasting. Cloudless blue skies and a gentle wind meant temperatures and heat management became an issue. The mercury was nudging 28 °C at times, and on some of the climbs it felt more.

Heat, Hydration Packs, and Hope

The barren landscape offered no respite from the sun, and I became increasingly pleased with my last-minute purchase of a hydration pack. At around 50km in, I’d already drained both bottles on my bike and was getting through the 2L of water in the hydration pack; without it, I’d have been in serious trouble.

There were three well-stocked aid stations throughout the route that had plenty of water, electrolytes, and snacks to refuel, which was very welcome and provided a manageable way to break up the course.

I’m sure those at the pointy end of the race didn't spend as much time refuelling as I did, but perhaps that's the difference between me and a sparkling cycling career!

It was around 75km that the cramp in my legs started to set in; every gradient became a balancing act between pushing on hard enough and avoiding my left quad spasming, which then required a few minutes off the bike, drinking as much as I could, and pulling some interesting stretches.

Despite my progress slowing to a crawl, I knew the finish line was getting ever closer. From a glance at the route profile the night before, I knew the last 10km were all downhill and on tarmac, so I hoped that I’d be able to make a few last-ditch overtakes of those who had run out of energy.

Before I got to the smooth tarmac, there was one last bone-shaking descent to contend with. So far, I’d really enjoyed the descents on the route – they had all been reasonably smooth with great sight lines to pick your way through. I might have been slow going up, but I felt like I had been descending on rails, closing gaps on riders that had passed me and carrying great speed onto the flatter sections between climbs.

The descent from Loch Grannoch was a different beast, however. Fist-sized bits of gravel and relentless corrugations made for very tough going on my already tired body. Choosing the fastest line down the hill had turned into letting go of the brakes and hanging on for dear life, my hands cramping onto the bars with a vice-like grip.

The Gravel Giveth, the Gravel Taketh Away

As the gravel flattened out and weaved under the viaduct, the tarmac was tantalisingly close and I could see strings of riders ahead. By this point, my cramp had eased, and I was feeling reasonably good again, and I felt like I had the legs push on to the finish and try to finish strong.

Tucking down into the drops, I powered past a number of riders and latched onto the back of another group with similar intentions to mine. We rode hard around the long and lazy bends back into the Gatehouse of Fleet, arriving at the technical last few hundred metres at full speed. Navigating the 90-degree bends and hairpins towards the finish, I just wished I had these legs for the whole day, but today wasn't my day.

I crossed the line in just over 5 hours, well outside of qualifying time. The winner of the men's race completed the course in a hair over 3 hours, so I think my dreams of being a professional cyclist will probably stay just a dream!

A Brutal Day, a Brilliant Event

The Gralloch is unique in terms of racing because it offers a separate start for the men and women. Normally the women's race is just before or after the men and the races interfere with each other but a number of women that I spoke to really valued having separate starts as it felt like their own race, rather than being bolted onto the men's.

Despite having been thoroughly beaten up by a very tough course, the overall event was superbly run. The event village in Garries Park had a host of brands exhibiting and food trucks to refuel after a hard day's racing.

For those still looking to test themselves over the same course but without the racing, there is the Gralloch Sportive on the Sunday which encourages riders to take a gentler pace and enjoy the scenery and well stocked aid stations.

Pre registration is open for the 2026 edition, but be warned, a spot is highly coveted and the event sells out very quickly!