I
’m lying in a ditch. One leg is in a patch of stinging nettles, one leg is twisted around and still attached to my bike whose front wheel is still spinning, almost apologetically, as a reminder of what I’m supposed to be doing. Inventory: Bruised ribs, bruised shoulder, child-like grazes on knee, hip and shoulder, tractor coming down the trail; I guess I can’t just lie here all day. How did I get here? About six months of idle dreaming and three of concerted planning. I wanted to do something different. After twenty years of road racing, time trialling, cyclocross and gran fondos I get the urge every couple of years to try something new, to discover what else you can do on two wheels. Some friends spent the summer posting on Facebook about something called dotwatching during something called the Transcontinental Race and a fire was lit. The ideas of starting a race as if entering a tunnel, of completely disconnecting from the world whilst you ride it, of total accountability to yourself and of raising yourself to the level of the race spoke to me. I applied. I didn’t get in.
However, I was learning along the way. Learning about all the other fascinating, crazy and beautiful events that you can pour yourself into. A world was opening up to me and the inhabitants of that world, I found, were generally people like me. People who, on the surface, look like normal, functioning grown-ups. People who go to work and take out the garbage and do all those things you’re supposed to do but never feel that’s who they are. People who want to connect with something bigger and understand more about themselves: Who they are, what makes them tick, and exactly how much they can wring out of it. People who crave experience. And so, in preparation for one of those events, I buy a new cyclocross bike. I buy a bivvy. I buy bike luggage. I start to train harder than I have in years, half from excitement, half from fear. I entered a few races that were not only longer than anything I raced before but harder too; I started one three hours ago and now I’m in a ditch. Malteni Gravel Bootleggers is the creation of three men who also create
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