Much More Than a 2nd Place: Rattlesnake Gravel 2025
An event that keeps getting better
Rattlesnake Gravel was extra special this year, as both of my parents were there. My mom had planned to race here since the middle of last year after I told her how great it was. Unfortunately, a broken hip in November and a cancer diagnosis less than a month ago almost halted those plans. Incredibly, she could make it down and get 2nd overall in the 30-mile race! Now that my dad is retired (mostly), he was able to come down and run the half marathon! Now, my mom has surgery in less than a week and won’t be riding for a bit, so having her down to TX to enjoy this fantastic event was an extra treat.
The last few days, I’ve been simultaneously disappointed, excited, and fulfilled. I finished second at Rattlesnake Gravel again to a friend and apparently now a perennial Texas rival, Joe Laverick. For those of you who don’t know him, he’s Olympian Maggie Coles-Lyster’s boyfriend.
This year’s race was so different, yet ended so similarly on paper. The field was more stacked, the start and first half were much harder, and the course was more dynamic.
Going into the event, I felt confident. I wanted to win this one badly. With a similar start to last year, the now annual “Joe-whacks-it-up-the-first-climb” suffer fest jumped from last year’s quaint 460 watts to 520 watts for 2 minutes. After this sort-out, we ended up with 4.5 people. I say 0.5 because former US pro road national champion Jonny Brown, now retired, was there, but as a passenger (Ok… really, this guy is a legend and I should not be disrespecting him in this way). With a massive block headwind, another group of 4 came back to us. This year, unlike the challenging group dynamics of last, the word I most associated with the first half was “limit.” There was a lot of time spent on my limit. I never felt the strongest. I’ve always struggled with this. I get into my own head believing that I am the only one suffering – that the other guys are just cruising. This is always easy to laugh at later: of course they are suffering. I know I am not the best, but I also know I am strong enough to make these guys hurt.
Slowly, the group whittled down. Gaps opened even on the flat as the wind took its toll and riders popped off the back. completely spent. We narrowed the lead pack down to four people before the most testing climb of the day: a steep, loose, access road preceded by a few miles of 4x4 ranch trail. I entered the meat of the climb about fifteen yards off the back, but I was not worried by this point. As Joe has come to learn, I am the João Almeida of gravel racing (albeit a LOT weaker). I will diesel my way back to you rather than follow every surge. I am the gift that keeps on giving.
Halfway up this climb, which turned out to be nearly unrideable in sections, even for me with two-inch Vittoria Terreno Dry tires, Joe had to dismount and walk a section. Making it up the climb was a fine balance of line choice and pushing hard while not putting too much torque down, as this might lead your back tire to spin out. The feeling I had on this climb was one I am accustomed to: suffering, yet tense, trying to keep traction. At the top, there were just three of us left. We regrouped, grabbed water, and le patron du peloton (Joe), who had far more road experience than either me or the other rider, Hayden, smartly indicated we should roll together and fight it out in the end. It’s not as if there was another option. Trying to go out there alone in that wind for 50 miles would have been a hopeless mission.
As the miles ticked on, I got more and more confident. The others were suffering. I was too, but not as much. The heat was beginning to melt away Joe’s aura of invincibility, as evidenced by ample salt stains on his bibs and jersey (he had previously told me he never gets these). I knew this was a weakness of his, but I also knew it was a threat to me as well. I’ve trained in Colorado all winter. Hayden was from Texas, and Joe spent his winter in Spain. Surely, I would be the most at risk.
Despite this, I knew I come into my best at the end of races. The problem was: how was I going to get rid of the others close enough to the finish that I could make it solo, but far enough that there would be zero chance of the 30-MPH downhill sprint that would have played out in the finish? The last real climb was with 20 miles to go – a long way with the wind and two riders behind. The best chance? That ten-minute section of double track in the last few miles. It was rutted and sandy and would make it harder to stick in the wheel.
It turns out Joe had the same idea. I entered first, but when I ended up in slightly deeper sand than him, he got by me. We gapped Hayden and quickly, this doubletrack turned into a luge run and speed, terror, sliding, and occasionally, using any bit of banked earth to take the corners faster. We were both on our limits. I wish there had been footage of this dual. Joe was about ten yards ahead, and I could not close it on the ups or downs. We were pedaling on both, but there was a limit. Clearly, he had found a second wind. I figured my last chance to get by and open a gap would be if he cramped.
Then, I overcooked a seemingly innocuous corner and went into a bush. The race was gone. One moment of overconfidence or a lapse of concentration, and my fate was sealed: second again. I untangled my bike and gave it all I had. I knew Hayden was still behind me, and I knew he was strong and a good mountain biker.
I was angry because I knew I had the legs to win that. With how fast we were taking that section (4th place was about two minutes slower in that section alone), either Joe or I was going to crash. Unfortunately, it was me. Joe also had a few close calls, clipping his pedal once in front of me and landing on his front wheel another time. We both rolled the dice, and he came out on top.
What do I take away from this? Well, I made a funny mistake that cost me, but I also take a lot of confidence from the race. I was the strongest in the last half. I felt in control (well… until the bush), and I know I can take this form forward. I’ve worked a lot on durability the last few months, and it seems to be paying off. I also had a lot of fun. I will remember the second half less for how much were were suffering and more for the tactical plans I was working through.
This is an event, not just a bike race.
Ok. Enough with the boring race recap stuff. Rattlesnake is quickly becoming a hot property in gravel, to the point that the organizers, David King and the Nolan County Volunteer Fire Departments, are going to cap registration next year to keep the atmosphere as it was in the beginning. Here’s why I love it, and a few favorite moments from this year.
It’s a multi-day gathering.
Many races are just that: single-day events purely for the sweat and suffering of competition. Rattlesnake has created a five-day festival that brings riders together to pedal, eat, and chill, rather than only racing hard. With ample good food, music, and activities, it’s like a carnival. If I’m going to travel to a race, I want there to be more than just five hours of action.
The course makes for great racing.
This year’s course was incredible. It’s unique in that it traverses up onto a plateau and back down into the valley numerous times. This leads to a combination of flat, exposed, windy sections interspersed with tough climbs and rolling hills. The ranch road sections add technicality that, in my opinion, is better than singletrack. In some places, it’s as hard or harder than singletrack, but there are two distinct lines. One is the right one, and one is the wrong one, and which side is best keeps changing. While it can be nice to be first wheel to pick your own line, it also leaves you open to mistakes. You can make the wrong choice and lose a few spots, or capitalize on a mistake by a rider in front of you. There are ample spots to break up the race, but many of those spots are not ideal because the following sections are almost impossible to navigate solo in the wind. Tactics are key. I love it!
Everyone is ACTUALLY welcome.
Everyone has been to a race that claims to be for all. The problem is that larger events often lead to pros remaining in their own groups. I am guilty of this. It’s too easy just to plan your rides with friends. Rattlesnake creates an even playing field. Outside of the race, everyone hangs out with each other (even the rattlesnakes in cages). A person with a 400-watt FTP from Grimbsy in the UK chats to someone from Abilene, Texas with no barriers. We ride together the days before and after and share stories.
Two moments really stood out to me this year. The first was when I met a fellow Pivot owner, Mark, after the race. We chatted for 20 minutes about how hard the race was, how we set up our Vault bikes, and various other normal post-race banter. Then, he thanked me for taking the time to talk with him, as if it was unexpected for someone from the front of the race to take the time to talk with someone further back. That makes me sad that he felt the need to thank me. I truly love chatting with people about bikes and racing. It’s the social situation I feel most comfortable in. It should not be a gift that a pro talks with someone, and it also should not be a chore for those professional riders. We are all just people out there riding bikes and having fun.
A second moment the day after on the recovery ride drove this point home. I had to cut the recovery ride short to get on the road back to Colorado, and I pedaled back with a Texan named Jack, who was new to the sport. He had been worried about the time cutoff the day before, and Tyler Pearce (Vegan Cyclist) had, unprompted, ridden back out onto the course to help this rider get home. Most people would not have known this. Why did Tyler do this? Because he understands the challenge that that rider was going through. We all have been there. When I was riding home as the racer explained the story to me, he was blown away to hear that the guys at the front were hurting a lot, too. He thought it was all easy for us as he watched us ride by him on an overlapping section. I hadn’t really thought of this before, but there is a perception that racing is completely different throughout the pack. The front riders have it easy, while the back riders struggle. It never is that way. As the old saying goes: “It never gets easier. You just go faster.” No matter where you are in the field, the sensation is the same. It’s one of questioning your choices, doubting your ability to keep going at this pace, and forcing yourself, pedal stroke by pedal stroke, to continue forward. I loved those twenty minutes with this rider. We chatted about everything from fueling to whether Joe Laverick had ridden the Tour de France (someday, Joe). He asked me my name and said how cool it was to be riding with a “pro.” That, apparently had been one of his goals during the weekend. (I did not feel worthy of this recognition). When he said, “I overestimated myself and won’t do the 100-mile again,” I had to stop him. I told him how many times I had finished a race and said, “Never again." I told him that in all of those cases, I had gone back. I’m not an expert on training, but I know the biggest gains in fitness can be made early in the process. This rider will be getting fit at a much faster rate than me over the next year. He shouldn’t take this year and think something is too much for him. He finally agreed and said: “You know what? You’re right. I shouldn’t assume how I will feel in a year from today. I will be stronger.”
The two of us split off, and I had a smile on my face. I was tired from the race, from the hours of driving to get there, from the stresses of performance, and of any work I had missed on Friday, but had another, far more powerful source of energy from the weekend. If there is one goal I have in racing–one that rises above the minutia of results and numbers that I can get stressed about–it is this. Even if it’s just one person, I want to inspire other riders in the way I have been inspired by people from my parents to my coach to Lachlan Morton. This is why I love Rattlesnake Gravel, and this is why I love bike racing.
Other great events like Rattlesnake to try in 2025:
Joe may have won the race, but your recap is definitely on top 😂
Congratulations on your outstanding performance and kudos for searching for and finding the best in yourself and others, despite, or perhaps because of, your imposter syndrome!