Wildfire emergency that caused The Mid South cancellation sparks shift in gravel racing perspective

Winds of 70 mph ripped through central Oklahoma March 14, downing power lines and causing brush fires across the dry landscape surrounding Stillwater. It was the type of chaos that made racing feel like an afterthought as nearly 130 wildfires were reported in 44 counties, including Payne County where the start for The Mid South was to take place just hours later. 

In an instant, I went from obsessing over every race-day detail to realizing just how small cycling is in the grand scheme. There was a letdown for all the focus and preparation in a gravel race - dialling in my Factor Ostro, 100 grams of carbs per bottle, spending an hour carefully positioning the No. 1 race plate as the defending champion - only for it all to disappear. One look at the sky, however, and I knew. 

Racing will always come in second place to people's safety. This time, it wasn't just about us, it was about Stillwater residents facing devastation and emergency crews stretched thin protecting them. The race could wait. The well-being and safety of the community could not. 

Mother Nature rules

It's a strange shift in perspective. One minute, everything revolves around a bike race. The next, it all feels secondary, even trivial. It reminded me of an article about the discovery of a black hole 33 billion times the mass of our sun. It makes things like chain ring size, 12-speed versus 13-speed cassette, 45 mm tyres versus 50 mm, and marginal aero gains all feel less important. 

And in a way, that realization is freeing. No matter how much effort we put in, some things are out of our control. We create meaning in our world, but sometimes, reality shatters the illusion.

Reality hit hard in Stillwater. Less than 12 hours before the race, flames crept through dry brush, reaching western parts of the city as the situation worsened. The event, the preparation, and the anticipation were all suddenly irrelevant. 

The moment of realization hit me like a pile of bricks. It was the 'a-ha' moment, the 'oh god' moment, the 'what are we doing here?' moment. A rapid shift from 'How am I going to win this race?' to 'How am I getting home tomorrow?'

Race mode and survival mode are entirely different. Race mode is about maximizing performance, refining every detail, and controlling the controllables. Then, in one instant, you realise things are entirely out of your control. My mind went from obsessing over carbs per hour and tyre pressure to wondering if my Hampton Inn was about to be engulfed in flames, survival mode engaged. 

The shift from race mode wasn't easy. When you invest so much into something, it is hard to let go. It was hard for me to shake the thought that maybe things could be resolved by morning. But the inevitable quickly became clear as the official US Air Quality Index skyrocketed above 250 in particulate matter (PM), which should be closer to 25 PM, and my eyes started to feel the effects of the ash in the air. 

The race would be cancelled at around Midnight local time, and honestly, it had to be. How could we, as humans, justify riding through a town in crisis, pretending our world hadn't just collided with a much harsher reality?

Disappointment is real

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Race director Bobby Wintle is known for his infectious energy and dedication to making every rider feel valued. Everyone loves Bobby. I spend the entire year looking forward to his legendary finish-line hug, which I have experienced three times as a winner. The night before the race, as he delivered his update, reassuring us that everything would go on as planned and the party would continue, it felt like he was doing everything in his power to make sure we never felt let down.

I went to sleep early the night before with 5% confidence that, somehow, everything would go back to normal and the race would still be on. There’s always a chance, but there was also a 95% chance Mother Nature would lead to the cancellation of The Mid South. I woke up the next day at 4:30 a.m. local time to check for an update and was not surprised by the cancellation. 

My mom, a teacher on spring break, had been the ultimate support crew all week - picking me up during course recons, grabbing burritos, and making last-minute Walmart runs for all the random but mission-critical essentials. She was there for the pre-riding, and pre-driving an entire course, for a race that would never happen. I was so excited. Everyone said it would roll fast, but the chunk made that seem unlikely. 

The first and last 10 miles of gravel had recently been regraded, and the rocks were big. The rolling felt much slower than in years past. The infamous creek crossing felt way less intimidating from the other side. Last year, it created a massive bottleneck at mile 12 with a giant lip at the entry point. Earlier in the week, I tested rolling through the middle when no one was watching. I’m glad this was done privately because I tipped into the water at 4 mph, maybe more of a splash. The bottom was thick with mud, stopping me in my tracks. 

Last year, when I saw the bottleneck at the creek crossing, I quickly decided to roll straight through and hook onto a fast group. I didn’t eat it, and it was glorious. This year, the creek crossing would have come with 17 miles to go, leaving a bottleneck risk very slim. And now, hopefully, the course will stay the same for 2026. It’s as challenging as it is beautiful. 

The new “singletrack” was anything but singletrack. Some generous Stillwater residents opened their private land, adding a rugged, rocky section that demanded attention for unexpected features. It was a stark contrast to last year’s smooth, green, MTB-style singletrack, but an interesting feature nonetheless and something to break up the relentless Oklahoma gravel.

Putting racing into perspective

The Mid South 2025 didn't happen as planned, but the events that unfolded over the weekend put everything in perspective. 

According to local media reports, including the Stillwater News Press, more than 70 homes were destroyed in the city, Mayor Will Joyce stating: "It's hard to describe the extent of the loss for these families; in most cases there is nothing but ashes remaining of almost everything they own."

While there were no deaths reported in Stillwater, however, the Oklahoma Department of Emergency Management reported on March 17 that four fatalities in the region were related to the fires or high winds, as well as 200 injuries. A state of emergency remained in effect for 12 Oklahoma counties, including Payne County, four days after the first flames.

Ted King, a recent Gravel Hall of Fame inductee, and Chase Wark, 10th in this year's BWR Arizona, set off on their Mega Mid South FKT (fastest known time) attempts at 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. local time, respectively, on March 16, a day after the race would have taken place. They set off to break a record of 22 hours, 38 minutes across 300 miles to not just ride, but to raise funds for the fire relief efforts (incredible guys!), proceeds going to United Way of Payne County and Stillwater Wildfire Relief Fund (see note below from Ted on the results).

I had already been on the road for nearly an hour, driving home to Colorado with my mom, when Ted took off. As much as I would have loved to have been part of something as meaningful as their ride, my mind was elsewhere, anxious to reach a place untouched by fire. 

Cycling gives us a sense of purpose, but it's not everything. Safety, for ourselves and those around us, is what truly matters. The disappointment of a cancelled event is nothing compared to the reality of people losing their homes, their livelihoods - some, even their lives.

We'll line up again next year, and obsess over tyre pressure, nutrition and marginal gains. But for now, we can step back, take a breath, and recognize that some things matter far more than any bike race.

Something bigger than 300-mile ride

The Mega Mid South is a 300-mile route that takes in the halfway points of courses of years past which adds up to 17,000 feet of climbing. With the smoke-filled air clear on Sunday, Ted King and Chase Wark started an hour apart, with King the first off at 6 a.m. (CDT).

King did break the former record of Nick Elliott (set in 2024) by 320 minutes, a new best time of 17 hours, 18 minutes. However, that FTK was held for about 40 minutes, as Wark crossed the line in 16 hours, 58 minutes for the better time.

"I did the Mega Mid South FKT to see how far I could push myself physically and to challenge myself to raise funds for the Stillwater community that was affected by fires just a few days prior. Ending the ride and seeing how many folks donated made the ride even more special. We knew we accomplished something much bigger than just a 300-mile ride," Wark posted on social media. 

The friendly competition continued to see who could raise the most money for local charities, such as the United Way of Payne County and Stillwater Wildfire Relief Fund. The two had combined to raise more than $8,500 as of March 19, with King pledging $1 for every minute under the previous FTK for $320. 

King, a two-time winner in his age group in the 100-mile race, said he hopes the community bounces back and he plans to return next year. He will continue to accept donations for several more days at the blog about The Mid South on his web site.