Badlands 2023
468 miles | 52,000ft ascent | 121hrs 23mins
Wow. What a ride. What an experience.
I knew Badlands would be a great event but it was better than I’d expected, as good as they get. The organisation was perfect with social rides/gatherings before the race, and lots of really useful race swag including a great race cap, free coffee etc. So everything pre-race, including a last-minute SAFE route to be loaded onto the GPS due to bad weather in the mountains, was like a well-oiled gravel machine. And Granada is an amazing place to visit as well as start the event.
No spoilers!
I’m not going to go into too much detail about the trail as I feel it is one that other riders need to experience for themselves. But hopefully, I will give you enough detail to get you onto the start line.
The photos are generally in order but a few might be a bit out of sync.
PRE-RACE
I didn’t feel I had really researched the route as well as I should have and had a loose plan of 100 miles per day to bring me in within the 5-day 8-hour cut-off. I had made notes of where the main food and water stops should be and had (hopefully) sufficient food and water capacity for the longer stretches so the detail would happen in real-time. I wanted to keep a high degree of flexibility as I know from experience nothing ever goes to plan.
DAY ONE: 122 miles | 13,776 ft | 19 hours
A full police escort took us out of Granada and almost immediately we were going up. And then up a bit more. But I wasn’t going to get sucked into a fast pace and kill myself in the first few miles so I just took my time. Plus the rain was laughing at us as it moved from drizzle to light rain to nothing and then repeated the same cycle a few more times.
As I descended towards the first main town with a food stop the heavens opened and I stopped to put my waterproof jacket on. By the time I got to La Peza (43 miles) I was soaked and freezing cold. Not quite what I was expecting! Luckily the garage/cafe had indoor space so I could dry out a bit and by the time I left, it was dry again. And that was the last time I saw rain.
The rest of the day was a lot of champagne gravel. Fast and smooth. The ride through the Gorafe desert was pretty magical. And although I wasn’t quite sure how far I would go that night, having refuelled again at the small town of Gorafe, and met up with another rider Colin, we agreed to ride to Hinojares where the local cafe/bar was open 24 hours for Badlanders. Although open was not serving food open, but just somewhere to sleep open. But that was fine for me and I got down into my bivi outside in the warm air and closed my eyes. And opened them every hour as the church bell rang on the hour every hour.
DAY 2: 66.6 miles | 8.346 ft | 13 hours
Colin left an hour or so before me as I was conscious that we were not a pair and this was an individual race. If we met up on the trail that was fine, but planning to leave together was against the rules as far as I understood.
The ride to Gor was my bad patch. Whilst I had no consideration of quitting, the previous long day, lack of sleep and a bit of dehydration had drained me of energy. So I slowed down a bit, had a power nap, and made my way to Gor where there was a cafe and a supermarket. And sat at one of the tables was Colin! I had to force my food down but I brought myself back to 50% life, did a full restock and we were off again. The unofficial pair. Next stop Gergal. 73 miles of nothingness. No water. No food.
We didn’t quite make it to Gergal as we decided on a roadside bivi just before the final ascent into Gergal. It was a bit of a short day and a chilly night. But I had a few miles in the bank so nothing to worry about.
DAY 3: 106 miles | 7,559ft | 16 hours
After the cold bivi the descent down into Gergal was all fast tarmac with a final very short but sketchy descent into town. And just as we arrived the cafe was opening for breakfast and battery charging. Perfect. Just what we need to get in another long day.
Because of the bad weather, we were not riding along some of the rivers so there was a fair bit of tarmac on very hot open stretches so by the time we got to Tabernas, I was in need of some more real food. I had pizza in my heart but the cafe instead had perfect tapas. Real food. And over the following days I stuck to eating as much real food as possible rather than the usual race junk you tend to survive on. At the supermarkets, I was buying fresh fruit, ham, cheese and bread. Although having finished my peanut butter pouch I didn’t find a replacement jar.
The ride out of Tabernas was really hot. Almost too hot but hey, we had miles to do and it was only showing 51C on the Garmin (only in the direct sunlight though).
I was keen to get to Rodalquilar but about 9 miles before I rode into the small town of Fernan Perez. In the main square people sat outside drinking and eating, including a bunch of Badlanders. I joined them.
There were a group of maybe 12 of us (riders) who would regularly bump into each other at food stops. So it was rarely difficult to know where to eat.
I was ready for a hotel room to get clean and sleep for a few more hours. But there was nothing in the town. The was an English bloke who lived in the town sat next to me and although he was talking in Spanish, I knew he was English. So I asked him if he knew of anywhere to stay. Lo and behold, he spoke to the bar owner and she just happened to have an empty apartment. And the rest of the gang on the other table managed to find a house. Colin arrived shortly after just as I was off to sleep so I gave him the option of joining me. By the time I woke the next morning, Colin had been and gone so at least he’d managed to get some sleep etc. A good finish to a long hard day.
DAY 4: 64 miles | 5,564 ft | 15 hours
Today was supposed to be easy. Downhill then as flat as a flat thing followed by a hard ascent up to Felix where I planned to stay. That would leave me around 80 miles on the final day so all was going to plan. Apart from the trail wasn’t quite as flat as promised!
By the time I got to San Jose I was ready for breakfast. Although I did have to force down my toast and jam for some reason. Early morning blues maybe. Coffee helped but none of the supermarkets were open so it was a nice flat ride to Cabo de Gata. Not. I never trust ocean trails and I was not “disappointed” as it went up and up along a beautiful gravel track with fantastic views. And what goes up, goes down. But before I went down I just sat and stared out at the sea. Taking some time to appreciate where I was. Something I did quite often as I wasn’t racing anyone, just making sure I got my full 5 days’ worth. In Cabo de Gata I bought my usual food but I also wanted iced coffee. Which I found. And inhaled.
And then it was flat. But also soft sand. On a beach. WTF. And then I came across Colin. After the beach, we rode for about 15 miles along the edge of the beach on a really good track. But it was getting close to lunchtime and really hot again. And the conversation turned to pizza. And as we got closer to Almeria we started to spot the beach cafes calling us. So we stopped. But no pizza. So we ordered vegetable paella. OMG. Forget pizza. As we sat in the cafe, on the beach, stuffing our faces, we were content to take time to avoid the sun and just enjoy the moment. And the paella.
All good things come to an end and the track was waiting. Without going into too much detail it was the worst track of the entire event. Steep. Rocky. Hot. Never ending. About 15 miles of never ending up. But eventually, we got to the top and onto Enix where we stopped for food as the restaurant was about to close and we were just in time. The tomato salad though. I’m not a big fan of raw tomatoes, olive oil and salt but this massive bowl that would last forever was demolished. And the fresh bread was used to mop up all that loveliness of oil and tomato juice. Then we had the main course to follow which we also demolished. But time was moving on and Felix was a mere 6 miles away. But wait. Yes, there was a house. 3 bedrooms. Available. So keeping the flexibility 3 of us took the house. We could make up the 6 miles easy enough. Although now we had around 110 miles still to go so whilst it was feasible it was a chunk to finish on. But a shower and a good sleep will always work wonders.
DAY 5: 112 miles | 16,588 ft | 28.5 hours
Colin and Steve were just leaving when my 04:00 alarm went off. This suited me fine as I like to get packed at my own pace rather than have someone else waiting for me. Plus I know extra sleep is what I need. The day ahead was a monster. Lots of miles. Lots of up. Very little down. And by the time I left at 05:00, there were only 32 hours to the final cut-off.
Felix came and went but then it was a lot of ascent before the most amazing gravel switchbacks down, down, down into Instincion. And a supermarket. And Colin.
Fondon took a while to get there but the bar and tapas made up for it. The waiter couldn’t understand that when I said we wanted 3 tapas EACH he just bought 3 to share. So we ordered more. Then more again. Real food. And then more Badlanders joined us and did the same.
We eventually got to Murtas before the restaurant closed. The restaurant that did not exist. The shop that wasn’t open, we were too late. So we sat by the fountain and pondered our fate. Until the man told us he’d rang the shopkeeper who was coming over to open up for us. More ham and cheese and water and we were happy again. Cadiar was only 10 miles away, the restaurant was open until 22:00 so we should make it on time. Although the shop had delayed us. The worst tracks on the ENTIRE route had slowed us to a snail's pace. Totally unrideable. WTF. By the time we got onto the tarmac, it was 22:15. We’d missed the restaurant. We were feeling a little bit fucked. But then I had a thought. Maybe this restaurant was open until 23:00. I stopped and checked. Yep. Our luck was in and when we got there, it was full of other Badlanders. We had survived. Although we still had 30 more miles of mainly very steep up to go. But 30 miles is nothing!?
The others had found somewhere to stay so they were off to get some sleep but I was going through the night. I’d banked my sleep, looked after myself, hydrated well and knew from my years of going through the night on ultras I was fine to keep going. Plus I’d had more tomatoes.
Colin was keen to join me although it would be his first 24+ hour bike experience. So off we went. And up we went. And then up a bit more. Albeit on a mix of concrete and tarmac. What should have been mostly easy-to-ride roads were turning ugly. Up ugly. And up a bit more. We stopped for a quick power nap but that didn’t help Colin much so I suggested we stop for a 2-hour bivi just before Trevelez. My stupid 04:00 alarm went off after only 1 hour into our bivi so I had to get out of my warm bed to switch the damn thing off. What an idiot I am. By 05:00 I was up and at it and Colin joined me. And once we got to Trevelez we celebrated with a cheese and ham party because at 06:00 there was nothing open.
From Trevelez it was pretty much all downhill. Until it wasn’t. Always a final sting in the tail. I’d heard about the ravine where the track had disappeared but I thought it was exaggerated how sketchy it was. It wasn’t. It was as bad as described. Not deathly; just very steep, loose and hard in and just as hard out the other side. Add to this, I thought the ravine was the last bit of ascending so having seen Colin safely back out onto the trail and leaving him to savour the moment of success and the final descent, I rolled down and away to the finish with plenty of time to spare.
All I’ll say is that the ravine does not mark the end of the up. I still managed to ride the up bits as they were not extreme, just not wanted. But then it was over and I really was going down. All the way. The last few miles of perfect tarmac, screaming around the bends, down and down to the end. A final stop on the side of the road just to look. A few moments to reflect would make no difference to my finish time. And then I was riding into the beautiful mountain village of Capileira. And the finish.
