Bike
MTB
Is the Silk Road Mountain Race the world's toughest offroad bike race?
Two thirds of competitors didn't even finish this inaugural 1,700km race across the mountains of Kyrgyzstan. One of those that did cross the line tells us how he did it.
As a 1,700km self-supported bike-packing race through the mountains of Kyrgyzstan, the Silk Road Mountain Race can best be described as brutal. Really brutal. Of the 100 international competitors that set off on the inaugural event in August 2018, only a third of them finished.
Riding, hiking and scrambling across gravel, desert, bog and old Soviet roads that have long fallen into disrepair, racers had to endure 27,000m of climbing. Distances between the three checkpoints were gruelling, while the overall mileage covered was roughly the same as riding from New York down to Florida – and if it wasn't a malfunctioning bike, illness or injury, the psychological torture of being alone for hours on end would prove too much for many a competitor.
Riding solo or in pairs, racers took a bike, whatever kit they could carry, a SPOT tracker for emergencies, and a shedload of motivation. One of the race finishers was Pete McNeil, a 33-year-old from the UK. McNeil came in eighth, covering an average of 150km a day and finishing in 11 days, 11 hours and 44 minutes. We caught up with him to find out how he did it.
Pete McNeil (left) on the road at the Silk Road race
© Tom Hardie
Just what is it that makes this race so brutal?
It’s a very long race to do offroad in such a remote location – a lot can happen in 1,700km, and there’s no mountain rescue or emergency services to call on. You’re riding on everything from gravel to single-track, and the route goes up to 4,000m-above-sea-level, so you’ve also got the physiological impact of cycling at high altitude to cope with. Then there’s the sheer exposure and range of temperatures to cope with – from 35 degrees to minus 10.
The long lonely terrain can prove mentally challenging
© Tom Hardie
Only a third of the competitors finished - why was that?
Kit choice played a big factor. For those with a very lightweight kit, like bivvy bags, it was a bigger struggle, as the exposure probably got to them more. I took a proper tent and a decent sleeping bag, which made sleeping up above 3,000m much more comfortable. And my decision to take a mountain bike with suspension rather than a gravel bike paid off.
Everyone had different ideas on what kind of approach to take. The event drew people from all biking disciplines, from road racers to mountain bikers. There were some really talented cyclists but, because it was in such a remote location, this event required a different approach to other races.
It also came down to luck. Some people pulled out because of illness, the altitude, or a mechanical failure that couldn’t be fixed – there are no bike shops out there!
Pete catching his breath at a checkpoint
© Tom Hardie
What were the toughest moments?
There are a few very tough 'hike-a-bike' moments, where you had to push or carry your bike for several miles. One was on the 4,000mm plateau before checkpoint three. I arrived at sunset with two hours of hiking ahead of me after what was already a long day. It was really hard to get through that. For me, the main battle was the psychological one. I spent a particularly long stint completely alone, with all sorts of thoughts and doubts running through my head. That can really wear you down.
What techniques did you use to keep yourself going?
A blast from the past on the Silk Road
© Tom Hardie
On trips like this, you spend a lot of time alone in your head, which can be liberating as well as excruciating. I used mindfulness techniques, like counting my breath, to either distract myself or put myself in the moment. This helped me to stop dwelling on how painful or long something was. I never slept in a town, as it can be hard to keep up momentum after a bit of company and some home comforts.
There were three checkpoints and a few towns along the route, and these were like ports in a storm – you could get a hot meal, a shower and spend time with other people. A few of the cyclists dropped out after spending time in the towns.
But, overall, I think it was my experience of travelling in remote parts of the world, rather than my cycling ability, that was my strong point. I had previously spent two years cycling to New Zealand with my wife, Alice.
And any big highlights?
The sweeping vistas provided plenty of inspiration for Pete
© Tom Hardie
The landscapes were amazing, and I loved the feeling of flowing through them in one continuous movement. The checkpoints were great too – these were mostly in yurts, where local people opened up their homes to us.
One of my favourite days was the final one. We’d been pre-warned that the last big hill was infamously tough with a massive hike-a-bike. But, once I was on it, I really enjoyed it. My bike was ideal for the single-track sections, and I knew I could empty the tank and pour everything into that last ride because I didn’t have to get up and ride the next day. So I got my head down, put some tunes on and let rip across the terrain. I was exhausted but in the right frame of mind to barrel into the finish and put in a really big day. My job had become much simpler by that point: I just needed to finish.
What sort of training did you do to prepare?
My general approach was: go out and have adventures on my bike. Through my business, I arrange cycling and bike-packing adventures, so I live my life by cycling offroad in remote places.
Initially, I’d planned to enter a series of races to prepare. But, in May, I overcooked it on the Highland 550 [a 550-mile self-supported race in Scotland]. I came fifth, but it ruined my body for the next few months, so I ended up doing lots of physio to recover, rather than more training. Not ideal, but the knowledge and experience I gained from riding at speed through remote parts of Scotland, and later the Peak District in England, more than made up for the fitness I lost.
What kit did you take?
Taking a MTB with its suspension benefits gave Pete an edge over others
© Tom Hardie
- Sonder Broken Road MTB (with added seat suspension)
- Ordos 2 tent
- Neutrino Endurance 600 sleeping bag
- Cloudbase sleeping mat
- Kraku stove
- Mytimug
- Katabatic synthetic down jacket
- Stingray frame bag
- Big Papa seat pack
I work a lot with the UK outdoors company Alpkit, so I mostly used kit from their range. Nobody knew which set-up would work best, and when I looked down the start line at all the drop-bar gravel bikes with rigid forks, I felt a bit out of place. As it turned out, my bike was faultless. At the last minute, I put a suspension seat post on it, which ended up being my favourite thing. I had exactly the right tools for the job and, in the long run, comfort led to speed.
And what about food?
I took Firepot dehydrated meal pouches, which are great. I also ate lots of Snickers bars and instant noodles, plus random local things like smoked dried cheese. I picked up tomatoes, cucumbers and dried apricots along the way.
Often meal times meant foraging for berries and other unfamiliar foodstuffs
© Tom Hardie
Finally, any advice for people who want to get into challenges like this?
Start by trying some of the shorter self-supported events and routes to see if you like them first. In the UK we have Self-Supported UK, which has various routes around the UK that you can attempt at any time – download the GPX file, follow the route and get yourself on the ITT (independent time trial) leaderboard.
On the UK calendar, the Highland 550 is a perfect test for a Silk Road kind of race – it’s similarly ridiculous, with tough hike-a-bikes, a sense of remoteness, and some really long sections where you really shouldn’t be taking a bike!
People do this sort of thing purely for the sake of the challenge. There’s no prize money involved, and it tests you in so many ways. The irony is that I wasn’t trying to win. I just wanted to finish it. But, even with that attitude, I managed to come eighth.
For the next Silk Road Mountain Race, keep your eye on the website. To get Pete's kit, visit Alpkit.com
Pete McNeil runs regular cycle adventures through his company Adventure Pedlars. You can see footage and photos of his trips on the Adventure Pedlars Instagram page.
