560 > 360, or is it?

Debating my Traka race options

The Traka 2024

The Traka 360 gravel race is one of the most challenging and exciting events I have participated in. It’s not like an American gravel race. It’s narrow, twisty, and aggressive in a way that few other races I have done are, and hard as nails.

Last year, I was on a great day when I flatted out of the lead group. No problem. I had great legs and about 150 more miles to chase. The rush of adrenaline and feeling on top of the world led me to ride what I thought was a hard, yet sustainable pace. I caught group by group, slowly reeling in those that had left me as the air had left my tire. I passed Pete Stetina, also battling through a stubborn puncture, and then Rob Britton. They caught me again, and I held on: my ticket to the front again.

Only, it was not. I could feel the lights going out with almost 100 miles to go. We were on a flat section of about 50 miles, and yet every bump felt like a wall. I let one group go, crawled to the next aid, and then descended into oblivion somewhere in that lush Spanish countryside as cows went about their daily business completely unaware of my plight.

I felt sick. 200 watts was hard. I wanted to quit. Every protective mechanism my body had was telling me what I was doing was wrong. “Why are you so cruel to me?”

I crawled into the final aid station, stopped for an emergency bathroom break, and limped away feeling slightly better, but just as empty.

Somehow, I made it back to Girona, over 12 hours after I had started. I was disappointed. I had torpedoed my chances. Sure, a flat took me out of the lead group, but my decisions after that led to my implosion. I wanted redemption.

Fast forward to 2025, and I feel like I’m in a better place. I’m stronger, I know what the race is like, and I have a much better fueling approach. I have a spot in the 360. I should do it again to prove to myself I can be up there, right?

Despite the 560k being closed to new entries, I am close to asking Gerard, the director, if I can switch into that in its debut year (it was canceled last year due to weather). I love the ultra-long stuff. The route is tantalizing. 30,000 feet of elevation gain in 330 miles. It goes up into the Pyrenees at 7,000 feet, then back to the coast. There is surely no better way to explore Catalunya. It’s a canvas upon which I can already see so many memories being made–good and bad. I can feel myself winding my way through the countryside deep in the night with no Kansas 24-hour gas stations as oases. I can feel the chill of the Pyrenean air and the warmth of the breeze on the Costa Brava. This is it, surely.

“But Chris,” I tell myself, “you want to have another go at the 360.”

I just don’t know. If Gerard lets me into the 560, I probably can’t say no to that. However, both of these races are adventures in the true sense of the word. Both are absurdly long and hard. Both will provide hours of mental anguish and flashes of joy. Whichever I do, the Traka is a special event, and I can’t wait for the memories I will create there.