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The Upper Peninsula of Michigan is abound with wilderness and beauty, this was the home of the inaugural Moran 166. One hundred and sixty six miles of backcountry forests and gravel within the Hiawatha National Forest.

New on the gravel calendar for 2021 and $10,000 prize purse meant a decent showing for its first year, plus pulled pork BBQ and fried white fish for all finishers meant a motivated crowd. We rolled about at 7am sharp with a winding start through a taped cyclocross section, that would also be included at the finish to add some spice. Next out onto a side road and immediately onto gravel. A controlled start for the first few miles meant a casual, chatty beginning but when the flag dropped, the pace picked up and almost immediately a crash occurred behind me on the first truly loose corner at speed. This split the peloton quite significantly and ultimately meant I was now settling into the second group on the road. I saw no point in blowing myself up with the front group vying for prize money, plus We still had 160 miles to go!

Our group of eight became eleven as we rode to the first checkpoint. It only took twenty miles until we picked up the first blown out of the back of the first group and throughout the day it would become a somewhat regular occurrence! at mile 42 we stopped and refueled quickly: this was in my plan with a hope to stop once more at gas station at mile 100. I refilled up my hydration pack, grabbed a little extra water and we were riding again.

I had selected the same set up on my Kona Major Jake as at Gravel Worlds but had used a new chain lube and actually changed my saddle position a bit. Nevertheless, the sporty geometry meant I could corner faster and be aggressive on some of the rooty and rocky seasonal roads and two track. This was an advantage as I'd soon learn.

It was clear as we approached mile sixty that some in the pack were not up for the group, we're getting tired and were skipping turns and shorting their pulls. It was my turn at the front and on an slight include I maintained the same speed, managed my power with my Stages powermeter and split the group. Instantly I was yelled at for 'surging' - I apologized out loudly but thanked him with my inner voice because this was absolute confirmation of what I was witnessing. I placed myself fifth wheel, filling a hole where the split occurred and did it again when it was my turn at the front. We were now five, it was a race after all.

There was a checkpoint at mile 75. I was planning on skipping this but the group agreed to make it a quick 'nature break'. This was fine for me as I now felt the next fueling point would be the next checkpoint at mile 113 rather than the gas station. I grabbed a cookie, filled my pack a little and we were onto the next section. Generally, the roads had been mostly rolling gravel and grit but had now changed to wet sand, it was power sucking! In a short three mile section of complaints and looking for new lines our group became three. This trio would remain together until mile 163.

The three of us worked cohesively, chatted and traded pulls. We picked up a few others along the way having been spit out of the front, but they didn't stay long. One said he'd been redlining for the last three hours - he was dropped in no time. I'm not sure what the others were thinking during our time together, but I was plotting and planning how to drop my comrades and race to the end. I'd noted that I was cornering better and gaining five or six yards at every corner. The deeper we got into the Hiawatha National Forest the condition of the roads seasonal roads dropped significantly. I loved the technical aspect and always gained distance from my peers. Should I get a gap here and try to ride away or wait?

I decided against that option but from a previous-ride, knew that the final six miles were on a disused railway bed used as a snowmobile path. It was rocky, bumpy and rutted plus a small section was flooded. This would be my first opportunity to get away, if that didn't stick then the corner as we turned onto the next road with about a mile to go would be an idea. Or, if that didn't work I was confident that the taped cyclocross section at the end would. Three options, here we go.

At three miles to go we came to the flooded section - large holes filled with cold water. You could skooch around the edges and try not to get wet but would get tangled in the undergrowth: it was about finding that right balance. I led into this section and really tried to push the pace. The water was cold and splashing onto my thighs caused me to cramp a little, it really wasn't a happy time but I knew that if I was hurting, so was everyone else. I kept the pressure up trying to control my cramping and gained a decent gap, maybe twenty yards. I continued with the pace and drove with whatever I could muster. The gap grew. It was the longest three miles ever. I tried to think of locations three miles from home to take my mind off of the pain. It sucked: after 163 miles I was tired, my stomach had had enough of sweet, carb high drinks and gels and the jiggling caused by the bumpy trail at speed did not help.

At the corner I looked back, my gap had stuck. I finished on my own, a minute ahead of my three partners for the day and 16th overall, six spots out of some cash. I felt ill at the end, those three miles really took it's toll. I slowly made my way back to the car and cleaned up. Nothing was going stop me from cleaning a plate of fried white fish and pulled pork!.it was outstanding.