Bradyn Lange

The medieval streets of Girona hum with a specific kind of tension that only precedes a massive endurance event. Dust-caked gravel bikes lean against century-old stone walls, and the air smells of espresso and chain wax. Alex Paton stands in the thick of it, a former pro returning to the fray, though his legs haven't seen a starting line in over 2,000 days. He’s been tapped to join the Canyon All-Terrain Racing team, a specialized unit nicknamed the wildcards, for a 24-hour stint as a professional gravel racer. The objective is The Traka 200km, a race that demands 2,500 meters of climbing through the rugged heart of Catalonia. Behind the scenes with the Canyon ATR wildcards Entering the inner sanctum of a pro team reveals the surgical precision required for off-road dominance. The Canyon All-Terrain Racing setup isn't just about speed; it's a culture of calculated intensity. Meeting team manager Vincent Durren at the team campervan, the atmosphere shifts from casual bike enthusiast to elite performance. The van serves as a mobile hub, featuring showers, recovery beds, and a fridge stocked for the relentless caloric demands of gravel. The riders, including back-to-back The Traka winner Carolin Schiff, maintain a lean kit: 3D-printed spares and a diet of rice, tofu, and rice pudding. It is a world where every gram is accounted for, and every watt is measured, yet the team prioritizes a 'fun vibes' philosophy to combat the inherent brutality of the sport. Precision fueling for a 200 kilometer assault Preparation for an event like The Traka is a logistical puzzle where the pieces are gels and electrolyte tablets. Alex Paton meticulously lays out his arsenal: two liters of electrolyte mix in a CamelBak, caffeine gels for the late-stage darkness, and high-carb chews for the mid-race grind. He coordinates with Tash from Precision Fuel and Hydration to ensure a full-blown restock at the 125km marker. The bike itself, a Canyon rig with a waxed chain and finely tuned tire pressures, becomes an extension of the athlete. On the eve of the race, the reality sets in: four massive climbs await, with three arriving in the first third of the course, ensuring the field is shattered before the halfway point. Sensory overload and the ballistic start At 6:30 AM, the pro men’s field explodes. The start is a sensory overload of carbon fiber clashing and tires screaming on gravel. Alex Paton finds himself at the back almost immediately, drifting through the wheels as the pace goes ballistic. Within fifteen minutes, he is nearly last, watching the leaders vanish into a cloud of 'angel dust.' The climbs are relentless, forcing riders into a dark place where the only option is to turn the pedals or quit. He watches the pro women's lead group, led by Carolin Schiff, fly past him with a speed that defies the gradient. It’s a humbling reminder of the gap between being 'bike fit' and 'race pro.' Turning the power back on in no man's land Somewhere around the two-hour mark, a miracle occurs. The human body is a strange machine; sometimes the dimmer switch just flips back up. Alex Paton finds his 'mojo,' shifting up gears and catching riders who had dropped him on the first ascent. He enters a flow state, carving through single-track sections under the rising Spanish sun. His Wahoo stats show an average of 199 watts, a solid effort, but the mental battle remains fierce. Riding in 'no man's land' between groups, he oscillates between the euphoria of the scenery and the crushing realization that he hasn't done a long gravel ride since Unbound Gravel a year prior. The brutal reality of the final climb As the race crosses 150 kilometers, the lack of specific training begins to bite. The energy levels dip, and the 'dimmer switch' starts to turn down again. Every minor blip on the elevation profile becomes a mountain. At the 125km feed zone, Tash provides a vital resupply, but the legs are failing. The final technical climb, highlighted in red on the Wahoo screen, proves to be the breaking point. When a rider ahead slips a wheel, Alex Paton is forced to put a foot down, and the group vanishes. The final 38 kilometers are a pure survival effort, a slow-motion grind toward the finish line in Girona. Humility and the professional gap Crossing the line at 7 hours and 49 minutes, Alex Paton collapses, having burned over 5,500 calories. The most humbling moment isn't the fatigue; it’s seeing the Canyon All-Terrain Racing team. While he is a broken man, his teammates like Bradyn Lange—who took second place—are already showered, in casual clothes, and looking completely fresh. The gap between an amateur enthusiast and a pro is a chasm measured in recovery time and sheer resilience. Yet, as the dust settles, the lesson is clear: the mountains don't care about your past accolades; they only care about what you've brought to the trail today. The Traka is a beautiful, savage reminder that in the wild, the struggle is the only thing that's real.