End of the Road: Santa Vall Gravel Race 2025

On February 15 and 16, 2025, Sant Gregori – just a few kilometers from the Catalan cycling stronghold of Girona – once again became the gravel epicenter, as it hosted La Santa Vall, one of Spain's most significant gravel festivals. Amid dusty trails, brutal climbs, and epic landscapes, over 500 riders from around the world gathered to push themselves to the limit on the technically demanding course. Two gravel stages that challenge everything – endurance, technique, and a thick skin.

And Bikeboard was right in the middle of it all. NoPain was practically thrown straight from the Castelli SOG Team Party onto the bike – with little preparation time but with a clear mission: to report ruthlessly on what really goes on out there with the gravel pros, ambitious amateurs, and adventure-seeking hobby riders. No filter – just pure dust, sweat, and an ongoing battle for air in lungs and tires.

Sometimes, there are only two flat tires separating a professionally organized gravel race from a (seemingly unsupported) 70-kilometer gravel time trial – as I personally experienced during the first stage.

It all started so smoothly: The online registration and payment of the entry fee went surprisingly seamlessly for "Spanish standards," thanks to the multilingual Santa Vall announcement. Even the rules and race modes were immediately understandable.

The organizer Klassmark kept participants regularly updated with relevant information via email, and on the website, there was not only the usual set of rules and liability disclaimer but even a current briefing video. In the video, the process was explained directly from the course and the start/finish area – including clear warnings about potential hazards. It couldn’t get much better.

The route was also finalized weeks before the start, and the GPS files could be downloaded in all imaginable formats.

At the latest after watching the explainer video, I was glad that I was familiar with the navigation functions of my Garmin Edge 130 as well as the route import via Komoot and Garmin Connect. Because, as the organizer unmistakably emphasized, despite numerous course marshals, blue arrows at critical points, and chalk arrows on the gravel, little to nothing works during the race without independent navigation. Especially in the rain, it quickly becomes tricky. The route layout is simply too intricate - with accompanying paths, bridge overpasses and underpasses, as well as a multitude of narrow single trails.

Additionally, they wanted to avoid littering the forests with disposable barrier tapes. After all, sustainability, alongside the fun of gravel riding and racing, is a top priority - not just at Santa Vall, but also at other Klassmark events like the Trakka.

To uphold this, careless littering outside the designated areas along the route is strictly penalized - with time penalties up to disqualification from the race. Therefore, all participants must mark their bars and gels with their start number. Markers for this purpose are available in sufficient quantities at the start/finish area and at the aid stations.

Moreover, single-use plastic is avoided entirely: At the aid stations, there are no plastic cups or disposable bottles. Instead, at the finish line - upon presenting the participant wristband - you receive a fresh paper cup for drinks, wooden cutlery, and a reusable plastic bowl.

The start is staggered: First the ladies, then the men – each led by the professionals, followed by the open amateur classes. While the actual starting position on the first day depends on a healthy self-assessment, the allocation of the starting block for the second stage is based on the finish time of the previous day.

I started from the back on both days – but why, actually? Weak in the chest, too out of shape, or simply forgot how to gravel? Yep, a bit of everything. And as if that wasn’t enough, technical problems also joined the mix – ironically, the race was won in a commanding manner by Magnus Bak Klaris on an almost identical Factor Ostro Gravel.

After the start, everything initially went smoothly: With a healthy dose of risk, I worked my way into the midfield over the first six kilometers. But at kilometer 9 – after the first descent – the euphoria was deflated faster than the air from my tires: puncture in the front and back, flat in the rear.

Let’s keep it short: The mounted Goodyear Connector Ultimate TLR in 40C rolled smoothly and quickly on asphalt and gravel but offered too little puncture protection to withstand my downhill skills unscathed. The exact cause remained a mystery, but the tubeless sealant stubbornly refused to seal, while the air escaped faster than one could react.

Moreover, the tire was so firmly seated in the rim flanges that even oversized tire levers reached their limits. The ultralight spare tube I brought along didn’t survive the brutal mounting attempt either – total failure right on the spot.

When the sweeper bike finally passed me and even the last participant had long since disappeared, the first wave of frustration set in. From “Ride fast” to “Die last” in less than ten kilometers – great.

Just before I was about to call a taxi, three Spanish bike tourists luckily appeared, offering their help and pulling a trekking tube with a Dunlop valve (?) out of their luggage. It fit, I handed them five euros, and together we lifted the American into the rim bed.

But just as I was about to continue riding, I couldn't believe my eyes: now the front tire was as flat as a pancake. The next helpful Spaniard had to sacrifice his spare tube. This time, I even placed ten euros on the table—not entirely voluntarily, as I was out of fives. I also noticed that my cash reserve only had a fifty left. It couldn't go wrong again—otherwise, the third tube would have become really expensive.

Fortunately, everything held tight this time. Hands were shaken, friendly phrases exchanged, and the three Spaniards followed me for a few minutes—presumably in the hope that the third one among them might still make the deal of a lifetime. No such luck.

After the botched race interruption at kilometer 9, a 71-kilometer gravel individual time trial began. My only opponent: the time limit to the feed station. My most loyal companion: the Garmin Edge 130 with the virtual partner, programmed to the finish time.

At least as a solo rider, I suddenly perceived the route and the surroundings in a completely different way. No stress from chasing rear wheels, no jostling in the grupetto, just the landscape, gravel, and the monotonous hum of the chain.

Most of the course marshals were still in place, the sparsely placed blue arrows were clearly visible, and with the displayed Garmin track, the route could be managed without major wrong turns - even for someone like me who regularly gets lost. After about an hour, I even caught up with the sweeper vehicle, and after another hour, I reached the feed station just in time - seven minutes before the time limit.

From then on, things went surprisingly well: a confident march to the finish line, with solid momentum and only minor mishaps - a bit of air loss here, a dropped chain there, and the occasional braking mistake. But most importantly: no crash!

The route was incredible. A perfect mix of flat and hilly gravel paths, some steep off-road climbs, technically demanding single trails, and a minimal amount of asphalt - exactly how a gravel fan would dream it.

Most of the danger zones were well marked, yet they still became the downfall of some riders. There were plenty of broken bikes to see, and even the ambulance had its share of work. The riders around me all behaved with sporting fairness. However, nothing was given away, even in the back positions. Overtaking opportunities? None. Drafting? If at all, only with maximum effort. It felt like a real professional gravel race, just in slow motion. At the latest, a glance at the results list made it clear to me how massive the gap was even to the fastest amateurs - not to mention the gravel pros.

We’d best keep quiet about the first stage. For the 114.5 kilometers of the second stage, I needed a slim 04:44:43 hours. The winner, however, crossed the finish line solo after just 03:17:46 hours - with an off-road average speed of 34.74 km/h. Incredible.

Even if you don't have to (or shouldn't) compete with the pros or fast amateurs here, it's definitely worth starting for any gravel fan. In the open class, La Santa Vall presents itself as an extremely charming yet professionally organized event, which I would personally place somewhere between a gravel race and a marathon.

The event also offers the perfect setting for guided rides or brisk group outings. The atmosphere along the route is relaxed, and from start to finish, you are thoroughly pampered.

In addition to the all-inclusive catering, there is freshly brewed barista coffee, a free technical service, parking spaces directly at the start by the football stadium, spacious restroom and shower facilities, five bike washing stations, and much more.

Conclusion: Whether you're an ambitious racer or a relaxed pleasure-graveler – at Santa Vall, everyone gets their money's worth.

La Santa Vall once again proved why Girona is considered the unofficial world capital of gravel cycling. Challenging routes, breathtaking landscapes, and a great field of participants made the event a highlight once again.

With the second event of the season completed, the Gravel Earth Series now turns its attention to the upcoming 23 races, where the best gravel specialists will compete for glory, honor, and valuable points. Additionally, this year marked the first attempt to achieve a balanced distribution of events between Europe and America, offering riders from both sides of the Atlantic fair chances.

And NoPain? He not only finished his first gravel race - he’s got the bug now. To be continued...