Kevin's story: Traka

BaseCamp athlete Kevin Davey shared his experience at the 2026 Traka bike race in Spain.

The Plan Actually Worked

If Gravel and Wine was my "can I survive this?" training day, the Traka 360 was the exam.

198.8 miles. 13,002 ft of climbing. 16h 31m moving time. About 18 hours elapsed.

And for the first time in a big event like this, everything went almost exactly according to plan.

That sentence sounds simple. It wasn't.

This race started back in the fall of 2025 after two painful DNFs. First came a crash at The Rift in Iceland. Then at GFNY, less than a mile into the race, someone dropped a toolkit in the middle of the peloton. I hit it with both wheels, cracked my front rim, and my day was over before it really started.

Both taught me the same lesson: sometimes it's not your mistake that ends your race. You have to ride defensively. Stay aware. Leave yourself an escape route. Save the heroics for later.

I'm not showing up to these events expecting to win them. I want to finish them. I want to finish strong. And if I do that, plenty of riders will come back to me later in the day.

That mindset shaped everything about my preparation.

Winter Training

Huge thanks to BaseCamp and Coach Greg Waggoner. Greg had me focusing on things I had largely ignored before: pacing, fueling, hydration, and practicing all of it under race-like conditions.

In the past I've done long rides fueled by little more than optimism, water, and poor decision-making.

Shockingly, that resulted in some spectacular bonks.

This winter was different. I spent months riding the Santa Monica Mountains, often in conditions that felt more like a pizza oven than a training ride. Several days topped 100°F. The Girona weather could have thrown that at me, so good preparation for suffering.

Along the way I learned a lot about nutrition. GU and Skratch worked well for shorter rides, but once I started stacking 10-, 12-, and 15-hour days, my stomach began filing formal complaints.

I eventually switched almost entirely to Maurten: drink mix, gels, bars, and the Bicarb system.

Everything worked together. More importantly, everything worked with me.

One key lesson was learning that eating on major climbs is hard. Really hard.

So for Traka, I took a Maurten 160 gel about 10 minutes before each of the three major climbs. It was one of the smartest decisions I made all day.

Race Day

Alarm: 4:00 a.m.

Breakfast was a carefully engineered carbohydrate assault:

• Instant oats

• Honey

• Two bananas

• Maurten bar

• Maurten Bicarb

• Another bar before the start

By 6:00 a.m. we rolled out of Girona and immediately pointed ourselves uphill.

I'd ridden the opening climb during the Traka 100 last year, so I knew what was coming. The climb passed quickly and, more importantly, cleanly. No crashes. No chaos. No mechanicals.

Exactly what I wanted.

The goal for the entire day was simple: Keep the power under control.

I had learned during my biggest training rides that once my average power started creeping into the 180–200 watt range, I was spending matches I would desperately want later.

Several times throughout the race, groups came by moving faster than my planned pace.

Old Kevin would've jumped on.

Traka Kevin looked at the power numbers and thought, That seems like Future Kevin's problem.

So I let them go. I passed many of those same riders later in the day.

The Course

The route itself was ridiculous.

Endless gravel roads through the countryside around Girona.

Remote valleys.

Technical descents.

Steep climbs.

Views of the Costa Brava and the Mediterranean appearing out of nowhere after long efforts.

At one point we climbed into a valley where riders going in and riders coming out crossed paths. For a brief moment you could see exactly how much climbing still remained.

Honestly, I wish I couldn't.

A single track section to finish.

It was spectacular. The kind of route where every climb hurts and every summit immediately makes you forget why you were complaining.

Assistance Zones MVP

A huge part of this success belonged to my wife, Laura. She met me at all three assistance zones with nutrition reloads, Coke, chips, encouragement, and the occasional reality check.

Meanwhile, Turk the dog gradually figured out that this apparently involved sitting around all day waiting for me to ride past.

Every time I saw them it felt like getting a massive energy boost.

Those assistance zones turned what could have been a logistical headache into a smooth day of execution.

The Final Third

The real turning point came after the second major climb.

By then I knew I was going to finish unless something mechanical happened. Nutrition was working. Power was under control. The legs still felt good.

And most importantly, my brain was still functioning.

I linked up with three or four riders moving at a similar pace. We rotated pulls, chatted, compared levels of suffering, and slowly worked our way toward Girona.

One rider absolutely flew downhill. Watching him descend was like watching someone who had accidentally selected the wrong difficulty setting. Later his lights died, and we ended up riding the final section together, him sitting on my wheel using my lights to navigate through the darkness.

Moments like that are what make gravel special.

The Finish

Night arrived around 8 p.m.

I was running Fenix lights on the bike and a headlamp zip-tied to my helmet.

The helmet light was an absolute game-changer and something I'd recommend to anyone doing ultra-distance gravel events.

A few more miles.

A few more turns.

And then Girona.

Finish line.

Done.

No flats. No mechanicals. No bonk. No drama. Just a huge smile.

I crossed the line with energy still left in the tank.

Could I have gone faster? Absolutely. I probably left a couple of hours out there.

But honestly, I don't care.

I stopped to help riders with mechanicals. I waited for people. I shared miles with strangers from around the world. I experienced the event instead of simply racing through it.

And that's why I do gravel.

The fitness will keep improving.

The times will come down.

But the community, the conversations, the shared suffering, and the friendships built over hundreds of miles are what I'll remember.

After all the preparation, all the winter training, and all the lessons learned from Iceland and GFNY, finishing the Traka 360 feeling strong from start to finish was one of the most satisfying days I've ever had on a bike.

And somehow, for 198.8 miles, everything actually went according to plan. Which frankly feels suspicious -- I hope I haven't used all my good luck up!

Huge shout-out to Greg, who prepared me perfectly!