When you sign up for a 360 km gravel race deep in the heart of Catalonia, having never actually ridden 360 km before, with your longest ride being a 230 km spin through Iceland in 2018 (which, let’s be honest, is absolutely nothing like Spain no matter how you try to look at it), you don’t exactly expect it to be easy.
But that’s not really the point, is it?
TRAKA 360 is one of Europe’s most iconic gravel races, long, hard, beautiful, and brutally honest. I wasn’t there to race. I was there to finish and do myself proud, to find my edge.
Girona didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet. On the very first recce ride, my mech hanger snapped and launched itself into the wheel, leaving the bike in a proper mess. Enter Jordi, the fellow Vielo rider and saviour of the mission, who brought the exact parts I needed. With some very last-minute mechanical assistance from the amazing people at Eat Sleep Cycle in Girona, the bike was turned around in record time. Considering there were over 4,000 riders in town just for TRAKA, they already had their work cut out handling last-minute repairs, so I was extremely grateful they made space to get me rolling again. Legend status secured.
That drama added fuel to the fire already simmering in my head. I hadn’t ridden 360 km before. My longest ride to date was 230 km in Iceland. My training had been decent, I thought, but not pristine. Life had happened, sessions were missed, and stress had crept in. Oh, and just six days earlier, I’d run all eight routes up Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) for a mountain clean-up effort with Trash Free Trails, which resulted in five days of hobbling. Not exactly textbook tapering, but then again, I suppose that’s on brand for me. I have never done anything the easy way…
I like to think that I am someone who does hard things, and although it may have been a while since my last BIG adventure, it's good to have that version of me back in the room. It's not always the way you’re supposed to do things. But I show up, and I follow through.
Race day started early with a 4 am alarm, coffee, carbs, and nerves buzzing under the surface. The 6 am start rolled around, and suddenly, we were off.
Crisp air. Dry gravel. Time to settle into the fight.
I found myself in a group of German riders, and together we chewed through the first 135 km in under five and a half hours. I felt strong and strangely confident in the speed we were covering. This was all new to me, and I was apprehensive of the distance to come.
The mountainous middle section didn’t hold back; these were very long climbs, rough descents, and the heat went from dry and hot to damp and sticky in the hills. I stopped to help a rider with his fourth puncture, found my rhythm again, and rolled into the next checkpoint with a bit of a second wind.
Then, somewhere around 260 km, things shifted. I felt like I was drifting, drowsy, low, not quite in the room… I knew what this was… the trench had opened, and the demons came knocking: “Maybe I’ve done enough”. “Maybe Sarah can just come pick me up”. “Maybe I’m just not good enough”.
But here’s the reality I quickly realised after a sandwich and some Haribo, when you’ve come that far, the cost of giving in is bigger than the pain of pushing on. I reminded myself this is what I said I’d do, I didn’t sign up for easy, I signed up for hard, and I had the fuel, the legs, and the mindset to see it through.
Right on cue came Garmin Hill. The steepest, slowest, most brutal climb of the day. But I got it done. Then came one more climb, the long flat roll home, and the lights of Girona. Crossed the line in 18 hours, 15 minutes, and 23 seconds. There were no crowds, no fanfare (it was midnight after all), just that deep, quiet satisfaction of following through.
This ride wasn’t just about finishing. It was about proving to myself that I still show up. That I still chase hard things.
Adventures are life-defining, I find so much depth and philosophy in pushing myself hard to do these things around the world. I am no pro athlete, but this gives me meaning. Adventure is the missing key for me. The Traka was a special event, and Girona is a special place.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was mine. And I finished it.
Writing this has brought back all the memories of such a great day, so much so, I am now signed up for the TRAKA 560 in May this year (2026). So clearly, there’s something about gravel that draws you in.
To be continued…
Ben Turner
GRVL Ambassador
Follow Ben on Instagram - @benturneradventure
