'Glastonbury for bikes' – Joe Laverick on his Unbound Gravel experience

A multi-discipline squad covering road, gravel, time-trial and triathlon, the Ribble Collective is the British bike brand's answer to the modern-day race scene. In this article, Joe Laverick, one of the Collective riders, takes us behind-the-scenes at Unbound Gravel.

I really wanted to hate Unbound Gravel. A 200-mile (340km) race in the Flint Hills of Kansas, it's the jewel in the crown of the gravel racing calendar. Looking in from the outside, and even until race day, I deemed it to be over-hyped. I was wrong. Unbound Gravel represents everything that cycling should be.

Four of us travelled to the USA. Myself and Metheven Bond would race the 200-mile pro men's race and then Amira Mellor and Maddy Nutt would take on the 200-mile pro women's race. This is the story of the Ribble Collective's first adventure into American gravel.

With all due respect to Emporia, it's in the middle of nowhere. The town is a two-hour drive from Kansas City Airport or – as we were to find out – a twelve-hour drive from Chicago Airport. That said, it didn't make the event any less well-attended. Walking around the small town was akin to stepping into a gravel fever dream.

First taking place in 2006, Unbound is one of the only gravel races on the calendar that has a degree of history. You only need to look at road racing to see that, in cycling, history is intrinsically linked with legitimacy. Winning Unbound is akin to winning the Tour de France – it's where all the media attention and sponsor money is focussed.

It's 3:45 on Saturday morning when the alarms sound through our camper to signify the start of race day. With the mammoth distance race in front of us, it's an early start to allow both us and the 4,000 or so amateurs who also race to complete the course. Concoctions of overnight oats and jammy rice are spooned into the mouths of bleary-eyed riders.

It's dark as we roll down from the RV park towards central Emporia. There's little on the roads but a stream of gravel bikes going in the same direction. Like moths to a flame, we reach the high street.

There are thousands of people around. Pros and amateurs nervously shuffle into their respective start pens while family and friends line the street. For a 5:50am start time, I'm astounded by the turnout.

We roll out, apparently safer than most other years as the pro and amateur fields are now split by 10 minutes. It's the calm before the literal and metaphorical storm. We hit the gravel and it's a stalemate. Nobody is willing to make the first move and waste energy in what will be a mammoth 10-hour race.

At mile 10 we hit 'D-Hill', and what followed will go down in Unbound history. The hill was last used in 2015, when rain turned the segment into a big 'hike-a-bike' section. This year was the same. Seven pro men were able to squeeze through, while the rest of the field had to walk. Drivetrains were clogged, and wheels wouldn't turn.

Paint sticks were given out on the start line in anticipation of needing to clear mud. Mine lasted for a minute or so before I relied on clearing the mud with my bare hands. It took me half an hour to cover three kilometres.

You'd get the bike clear, try to ride and then it'd immediately clog up again. Some called it 'peanut butter' mud, and others referred to it as clay. All I know is that it was impossible to ride. When I finally cleared the section, I gave my bike a rinse in a roadside puddle and set off again.

I was chasing a lost cause and miserable. Having flown halfway across the world and spending thousands of dollars, it's disappointing when things don't turn out as you hope. The thought of quitting crossed my mind a lot, but I cracked on.

It was in the next 300km where, somewhere in the vast Flint Hills, I think I accidentally found the spirit of gravel. It's not what tires or pressure you're running, it's about meeting new people, getting cheered through the aid stations and the community that welcomes you with open arms. The phrase 'spirit of gravel' annoys me, but rolling around Unbound trying to take it all in, I finally get it.

Lightning storms, 30°C heat, mud, cow poo, hike-a-bike and so much more. No matter what this race threw at me, I crossed the line with a smile. Metheven arrived 10 minutes or so later after a battle with heat stroke. Maddy finishes just after dark, and Amira, unfortunately, had to pull out earlier in the day.

We all went into the race with dreams of top performances, knowing that this year they'd almost certainly be just that – a dream. We'll be back, I'm sure. It's a race that leans on experience and know-how, almost like the Paris-Roubaix of the gravel world.

It's dark, past 10pm in Emporia, as we sit on the kerbside on the final straight with a burrito and beer in hand. There's a party atmosphere as finishers continue to trickle in. They'll keep coming until the early hours of the morning.

"It's Glastonbury for bikes", quips one of our group. Enter via lottery, drastic weather changes, mud, music, and thousands of like-minded people gathered doing the thing they love.

Glastonbury for bikes, that sums up the Unbound.

The bike

• Frameset: Ribble Gravel SL with custom Collective paint job
• Handlebars: LEVEL5 Carbon Integrated - 42mm 
• Groupset: Shimano GRX Di2. 48-31 on the front, 11-32 cassette
• Wheelset: Mavic Cosmic SL 45 Disc
• Tyres: Specialized Pathfinder Pro 42 2Bliss Ready (with rear insert)
• Saddle: Selle Italia SLR Boost
• Pedals: Shimano SPD 
• Power meter: Stages GRX Single Sided
• Additional features: Jango Rolls Top Tube Bag for snacks and tools, an old saddle bag I found in my garage full of spares, DynaPlug Covert Drop in case of puncture