#30 The Traka
My thoughts on the craziest cycling race I have ever done.
At this moment of writing, I’m back at my office. I arrived from Spain yesterday. As I look out of my window, things are exactly as I left them: the trams are making noise, trash is on the floor, and people are minding their own business.
The Traka feels a long way from this place. And that’s also how it feels for me. It was an insane experience, one that feels both deeply satisfying and like a fever dream coming true.
The preparation — November to April
I bought my ticket for the Traka around June 2025. It was a wild idea, and a challenge unlike anything I’d taken on before. I had just started riding a gravel bike and kind of liked it. But being skilled enough to ride the Traka? Not even close.
That meant training hard. My official training schedule kicked off in November 2025. I already had the base condition to finish the Traka, but I lacked the technical skills to do it safely and fast.
That’s where the focus went. Together with my trainer Joram Grootveld (who I’ll introduce in another section), we built a plan to get me ready for this insane race. The goal was to grow my endurance capacity, which meant logging long hours on the bike — all to increase the load I could handle during longer efforts.
Around that time, I also started talking with Rose. In one meeting I asked them, “But what if the bike cracks during the Traka?” The answer came back immediately: “The bike will finish it. You will be the deciding factor.”
That conversation turned out to be true.
I was the one who could make or break the Traka. In the months that followed, I trained relentlessly and found partners like Vittoria, Fizik, and Fulcrum, who provided me with amazing parts that genuinely made a difference on the bike.
I also got in touch with 226ers, who sent me a big box of gels and drinks to test. Everything went well, and I felt comfortable using their products on longer rides.
In February, I went to Girona to scout the gravel and get a feel for what to expect. Over the following months, I rode those gravel roads with Lars Loohuis (Dutch gravel champion), Bram Dissel (BEAT rider), Ide Schelling (KOM jersey wearer at the TdF), Martin Pluto (Energus rider), Lars Boven (former Alpecin and Visma cyclist), and Ivar Slik (Unbound winner). That experience gave me confidence and taught me a huge amount ahead of what was coming. Not many people get the chance to prepare with cyclists so far above their own level.
The preparation was perfect.
Traka week
I arrived six days before the Traka by car. My girlfriend and I stayed in Bonmati for a few days, then moved into an Airbnb in central Girona — right around the corner from La Comuna.
During those days, I did a few recon rides. A 360km recon isn’t realistic, so I focused on a handful of key sections of the race.
Traka is also where I met so many new people. Brands had pop-up stores all over the city, and other creators were in town too. The days leading up to the race were filled with meetings, dinners, and quick coffees with interesting people.
It was a welcome distraction from what was coming, because I was genuinely nervous in the weeks leading up to the race.
The execution
And then, finally, it was here. Race day. My alarm was set for 04:00. My start was at 06:10, and I rolled into the start box at 05:47.
The start
When I entered the start box, I needed to use the toilet, so I asked a guy to keep an eye on my bike. His response: “We’re starting now.”
It turned out the organisation had made a mistake and let all the boxes behind the pro cyclists start at the same time as the pro men.
So suddenly, I was starting the race 20 minutes earlier than planned.
The first climb
I knew what to expect, so I paced myself. I never crossed threshold and stayed fresh for the rest of the race. I did a great job there. The only bummer was that I forgot to turn on my Wahoo for the climb.
When I reached the top, I took a sip of my drink — and immediately felt something was off. For some reason it tasted bitter and didn’t sit right in my stomach. I texted my crew (my girlfriend Jiska and my good friend Morris) to swap in fresh drink mixes. My theory was that the fridge overnight had somehow turned it bitter.
The road to Assistance Area 1
After the climb, we hit a flatter section. Because of the chaos at the start, the pro women began overtaking us within the first 50km. We were told not to interfere with their race, which meant I ended up drafting in a group of pro women all the way to Assistance Area 1. I felt pretty good. The drink wasn’t optimal, but I could push my power and was sitting in a strong position. At that point, I was riding at position 76 in my age category.
The second climb
After AA1, we hit the second big climb. And that’s where it all caught up with me. My stomach was upset. The power I needed — even just to hold endurance pace — was gone. Every meter was a struggle.
Why? I think I’d grabbed a 226ers product I hadn’t tested before. Their products are great across the board, but this particular one landed terribly in my stomach. That mistake was on me.
The flat part to Assistance Area 2
I quickly texted the crew to ask if they could mix water with sugar, or put something in that would settle my stomach. But it was already too late. I’d burned through too much of my body heading into the third big climb.
The number of times I wanted to quit is hard to count. I remember a guy flying past me, shouting, “I’ve already thrown up 10 times, but I have to finish, otherwise I’ll have to do this dumb race again.” I pulled over once and just sat in an orchard against a tree, wrecked.
At a water station, I got some Coke and another mix from 226ers, which calmed the stomach issues for the time being. I stopped for 15 minutes and lost a lot of time.
The third climb — Els Metges
After AA2, I pushed on to the last big hill section of the race: Els Metges. A brutal middle section with 20% gradients had me throwing everything I had at it just to get to the top. This climb really made me suffer.
On the descent I rolled into AA3, seeing my girlfriend and Morris for the last time. I had 70km left. My body was refusing any more gels or water. I tried to get some electrolytes in.
The four surprises of Gerard
For the next 70km, I knew the route well thanks to the recon. The first section was beautiful and flew by. Then I hit 50km to go, and that’s where I had to fight for every kilometer. I looked at my Wahoo and saw 49.5k. I looked again after what felt like half an hour, and it said 48.3.
I couldn’t push my watts anymore. My heart rate refused to climb above 125, and my power was simply gone.
That was the most demoralizing part. I just kept thinking, “There’s going to be a moment when that number starts with a 3, then a 2, and eventually just a single digit.”
From 40km out, the “Four Surprises of Gerard” were waiting. Gerard Freixes is the owner and course designer of the Traka, and for some reason he takes joy in stuffing the final stretch with brutal sections.
The four surprises were:
25K TO GO: A big section where I had to walk the bike under a small tunnel.
15K TO GO: A narrow path with a big descent, then a steep walk under a bridge.
8K TO GO: An insane and entirely unnecessary climb of 900m with 20% sections.
4K TO GO: A mountain bike track with branches, steep cliffs, and sudden half-meter drops.
That’s where I hit my lowest point. My mind was foggy, my focus was gone, and my body was on the verge of collapsing.
A few days before the Traka, my girlfriend had found a four-leaf clover and tucked it into my hydration pack. That was one of the things keeping me going (alongside the option of just lying on the ground).
The finish
And then it was there. After all that suffering, I turned the final corner of the Traka. I got overtaken by five riders, didn’t give a flying f*ck, and crossed the finish line. My girlfriend was waiting at the finish, just as emotional as I was. I gave Rob Harmeling a hug — we’d ridden together over the last 20km.
I got off my bike, laid on the grass for what felt like 20 minutes, and slowly felt my body come back to life. I ate three burritos, had one of the best showers of my life, and crawled into bed.
I was a Traka finisher.
The aftermath — My feeling
And now I’m back home. As if nothing happened.
Let’s start with the positive.
I’m genuinely grateful for all the support along the way. The brands that wanted to be part of this. The people cheering along the route. My girlfriend, who has been there for me through these past months of relentless training. My friend Morris, who spent an entire day helping me finish this bike race.
I’m grateful for all the new people I met in Girona, the cool experiences, and the genuinely helpful people I crossed paths with. Everyone in the scene is great and wants to see you thrive — because they know what you’re about to put yourself through.
I’m impressed by the technical level I showed during the race.
The gear was perfect. No punctures, no crashes, no issues.
But I’m also feeling empty. I trained for this moment, and now I have no clue what I’m doing next. My trainer Joram Grootveld coached me up to this race, but the Rockets are taking up more of his time now. I have no idea what’s next, or when I’ll ride my bike again.
I’m not satisfied with the result. I made a mistake with nutrition, and that mistake ruined my race. I can be glad I finished, but I wanted to show what I’m actually capable of. The hours I put into training weren’t reflected in the result.
Does that mean I’ll be back at the Traka?
Definitely. But maybe not the 360.