Southern Cross 50-Mile Gravel Race

Southern Cross 50 Miles Gravel Race 50 miles, 6K of climbing, 3:22 hrs. 5th place finish in Open Women Category. Lining up at the start, I saw so many strong riders, most on gravel bikes, as expected for a gravel race. There were lots of teams, collegiate riders, and a record number of young racers, as race director Lisa pointed out, which was amazing. Around 50 women across all classes took on the 50-mile challenge, which is incredible. I knew I wouldn’t be fighting for the win, but I was ready for an amazing effort, a full-gas race, and the push that comes from riding alongside such a strong field. I set my eyes on the top five—last time I did this race two years ago, I placed 7th. You never know who will show up; you can end up on the podium or far from it with the exact same finishing time. This year, my time equaled last year’s winning time, but two years ago, it was only enough for 7th place.

Photo credit: dashingimages.com

The start was intense as a few hundred riders jetted down the swoopy, steep descent and into the painful climb out of the Montaluce Winery. Groups quickly formed on the road stretch. I had no chance of catching the first group; at least a couple of women disappeared with them, probably more. I was stuck between groups for a while until a small second group caught me, then a few more riders joined. I fought hard to stay, but I couldn’t consistently hold the wheel, drifting back and forth. I was the last rider hanging onto this extension of the front pack, with an endless stream of riders behind. Then we hit the first real climb—no more neutral rollout. The race truly began.

Photo credit: dashingimages.com

Finally, I was in my element—on gravel, on my hardtail Zerouno with Gulo wheels rolling so fast and smooth, I love my bikes. Within the first minute of climbing, I caught two collegiate riders. My countdown began. It took another 45 minutes of brutal climbing on Winding Stair Gap before I spotted another female rider. The rolling hills had turned into a relentless ascent. I passed a strong-looking racer from the front row, someone I had expected to be far ahead. That made three. The gravel became loose and dry, the climb steeper as I neared the first feed zone. There, I passed another strong rider—number four. After a quick bottle handoff, I hit a long stretch of rolling hills and a fast descent.

Photo credit: dashingimages.com

At one point, our race came to a near halt as 57 Jeep vehicles crawled up the middle of the gravel road while we were bombing down. I’d never seen that many Jeeps at once! Eventually, we spilled onto a few miles of asphalt descent. To my surprise, the fourth rider I had passed earlier flew by me on her gravel bike. A minute later, I was able to catch up and sit on her wheel briefly before we returned to rolling hills. That’s when the attacks started—repeated surges trying to drop me. I stayed patient, ensuring I didn’t lose too much ground. Soon, I worked my way back to her side. A quick exchange of words confirmed that there were four women ahead, meaning we were battling for 5th place overall. After that, I pushed forward and didn’t look back. This time, she didn’t follow.

Photo credit: dashingimages.com

Climbing my heart out to the second feed zone, I grabbed water and braced for the insane descent ahead. The course was torn up, with loose rocks, steep drops, and a hurricane-like wind making it even crazier. I sent my bike down like there was no tomorrow. The dust, speed, and wind made it impossible to hear if anyone was near. I was in full sprint mode for the final 18 miles. It’s a long sprint, one where effort management is key. I saw a few crash victims along the way and had no riders around me. Then, suddenly, I heard someone coming up fast—no way was someone passing me here! But it was a guy on a motorbike, giving me a huge cheer and a rad-on gesture before speeding off. That was both funny and motivating!

Photo credit: dashingimages.com

The last gravel sections had some punchy climbs that stung. Then came the long, endless-feeling stretch of pavement leading back to where we started. Everything felt like slow motion. A young rider I recognized from the start caught me. Earlier, he had joked about bringing marshmallows for a chill ride. As he passed, I asked, “So where are the marshmallows?” His turnaround and look were priceless—we both laughed. One last turn led to a grassy field, a muddy creek crossing, and a climb out onto gravel toward the finish. That final climb felt like riding through molasses.

I crossed the line at 3 hours and 22 minutes, feeling great. I hit my goal—5th place in an incredibly strong field, racing against road and gravel pros. Exactly what I set out to accomplish.

I saw familiar faces, made new friends, and soaked in the experience. I always do. No matter if it’s gravel or singletrack, the challenge of bike racing is always profound. You learn so much about yourself—not just what your body can handle, but how your mind processes pain, discomfort, setbacks, and surges forward. The moments that could break you but don’t. That’s the most amazing part of racing—the psychology of pain, turning it into something beautiful and meaningful.

Mountain Goat Adventures puts on phenomenal races, always well-organized and so much fun. I can’t help but keep coming back for more.