Where We Came From: "I Guess You Had To Be There"

The underground legends made the sport special. Image courtesy of David Story

 This article is another in the "Where We Came From" series which is a series that attempts to describe early gravel events, people, and culture.  

"Well, I guess you had to be there!" 

How many times have you heard this when either someone is trying to justify why they think something is funny or when someone is trying to describe an experience that is difficult to describe in words? You've probably heard the former more than the latter, but it is the latter form of this turn of phrase which I want to discuss today.

There was a comment left on Monday's post which I am going to share here. It was left anonymously, so I cannot credit the person, nor do I know who this is. But it is interesting from a very different perspective, and it really said a lot which hit home with me.  I have had difficulty expressing this in the past, but this comment illuminated much of how I feel. 

I'll cut to the meat of what it is I want to get to here by posting the comment, in its entirety, from the "Two Things" post from Monday. The comment is in reference to what Unbound has become. After the comment I will give my thoughts. Now for the comment: 

"I have not ridden the race under either banner, (Dirty Kanza/Unbound) but I do miss following it in the early days. It had so much romance surrounding it. As a Kansan it felt like we had something special that the rest of the world didn't know about. All the locals, as well as the other midwesterners (seemingly centered around Lincoln), became underground legends for many of us in Kansas. I liked that it existed in a world separate from both the European road scene and the more traditional American cycling scene. It felt fresh, and a bit counter-culture. I always wanted to ride it, but I moved away from Kansas for a number of years, and by the time I got back I lacked the fitness and any interest in the new "product." I'm aware that many people scoff at this sort of nostalgia, and the young kids would call me Boomer or Unc, but certain periods are special for a reason. DK was special in a way that Unbound could never be."

First, I think the context of where these thoughts are coming from is important to note. The person did not participate in the earlier or the later versions of DK/Unbound. So the perspective here is not colored by having been inside either way the event has been produced. I think because of this, we get a more unvarnished look at both things- The early gravel scene and what it has become now.

Rider: Greg Gleason leaving Checkpoint 1 during Trans Iowa v11 Image by Jason Boucher

Something Special:

The sentiment expressed about how the early gravel scene was unique is very true. It did not belong to The World, and was neither roadie or MTB in its feel and culture. Certainly there were elements of both types of cycling incorporated into the gravel scene in those times. But it was a mix which had a unique flavor which neither road racing nor mountain biking could lay claim to.

There were "heroes" which were relatable to the common cyclist. One could go to an event and see these folks, talk to them, and if you were fast enough, ride with them for a while. This has obviously changed with Unbound to be the opposite extreme. Now, if there are any "heroes" of gravel, they are observed from afar, and you won't be riding with them in an event.  

Setting up for the Cherry Grove Checkpoint at the Almanzo.

Counterculture:

The comment mentions the feeling the early gravel days had was "a bit counter-culture".

This is also true. Gravel came out from the MTB/ultra-MTB scene and had an unkempt, rougher edge about it to begin with. This evolved into a feeling which was irreverent, snubbing "The Rules" (it's a roadie thing). The gravel culture generally looked down upon anything smacking of "governing bodies" and all the over-reaching edicts the sanctioning bodies had.

Whether you thought what was going on in early gravel was "unprofessional" or "fun", the fact is the participants brought in a looser, less structured feel. "Fun" and experiences were prioritized over all-out competitiveness. It is a nuanced discussion here. There were very disciplined athletes in early gravel racing, but there was also this other side to it which was accepted and not looked down upon as being "unprofessional" because there was no real money in gravel events.

Money was also kind of a cloud hanging over what gravel started out as being. This and governing/sanctioning organizations were - I don't want to say "feared" - but something which was kept as a "villain" of sorts to be fought against. Only no one fought against it. They ended up mostly complaining and accepting it begrudgingly as being inevitable.

It's Just Not The Same:

The comment closes out with how Unbound just cannot ever be what it used to be like. I would say this is a rather obvious statement on the surface of it, but it speaks to something deeper when looked at in context to the rest of the comment.

I would ask anyone curious about this to go look at the finish line shots from 2025 and compare them to anything from the DK200 era. I think you will find a completely different vibe in the images.

Look at any DK200 start, and you'll see the differences there as well. Obviously, those older events had far less people involved than they do now at Unbound with their estimated 5,000 individuals across all events. But if you are citing this as a reason the event has to be different, you are forgetting what else more people do to an event. Think of it in terms of experience for the individual.

In a collegiate setting, a huge lecture hall with a large number of students is less enjoyable than a smaller, more intimate classroom setting where it is possible to engage with the professor and the professor can engage with all the students. Sure, you can get a degree doing it in both settings, but which, ultimately, would you want to experience?

Okay, let's say the experience part is not all that important to you. So if it isn't about experience for the individual and the promoter(s), then what is it about? Media coverage? Pro/Elite standing in the racing community? Making money for the corporation? I would submit to you where Unbound is now is more about the questions I asked than it is about the individual racer experience, the vibe for the amateurs, and yes, even the community. By cordoning off the finish line chute area to be safe for all the Elites, they have, perhaps unintentionally, also cut off easy access by Emporians to see this spectacle which visits their city once a year. Eventually, by segregating the event in this manner, it will affect how residents see this intrusion into their daily lives.

This is in stark contrast to the festival-like feel of earlier DK200 events in the late twenty-teens. Yes, there were less people, and way less Pro/Elites demanding concessions. But when you "go big" you have compromises. Are the compromises worth the alienation of residents and segregation of the amateurs from Elites? I don't have those answers, but if the comment left on my blog Monday is any indication, and if what I saw being posted online Friday is any indication, I would say there is a growing distaste for where Unbound has gone. 

 So, What Can You Do About It Anyway?

The difficult part about anything one experiences in Life is this: At some point it ends. Life's experiences are constantly in flux, and so are the events we cherish. (Or events we don't like!) We are fortunate to have been through the events we were blessed to be a part of in their time. We should not try to elevate them beyond what they were or let anyone else denigrate or disparage them afterward. They are what they were as soon as they happened- Memories. Experiences. The Past. 

As the commenter said, " ...certain periods are special for a reason. DK was special in a way that Unbound could never be." Maybe that is hard to understand. 

Yeah,. Well, I guess you had to be there.