On a sunny Saturday in June, the week after the summer solstice, over 800 riders were due to gather in a field near Salisbury to ride one of three distances of the annual gravel event known as Stone Circle. The name of the event takes its inspiration from the nearby world-famous historic monument of Stonehenge. Shimano Gravel Alliance rider Dalila Lecky was there to take in the experience and has sent in this great ride report.

At 220km, I had opted for the longest of the three routes, endearingly named 'The Bastard', a nod to William the Conqueror, the illegitimate son of a duke, who once demanded oaths of fealty at Old Sarum, the ancient fort that now serves as the event village.

Festivities kicked off on Friday night with the costumed hill climb. Some costumes looked much harder to ride in (and see out of) than others. After cheering the riders on up the hill, we sat around chatting and eating pizza. I then went straight to bed because the Bastards were due for a very early start the next day.

My campsite neighbours weren't in such a rush to go to bed; they were probably taking on one of the shorter routes and thus enjoying a later start. So, I popped in my earplugs and drifted off to sleep.

My alarm went off at 3:45 AM; my immediate response was confusion. Such an early start was a massive shift from my usual weekend schedule. More alarms started going off as other Bastards arose and the silence of the early morning was punctuated by the sound of camping stoves, quiet conversations and the occasional exclamation of someone finding an earwig in their coffee. More on the earwigs later.

I had been aiming to set off in the first wave at 4:30 AM, but since I'm not a morning person, I ended up in one of the last waves at almost 5:30 AM. And so I ended up riding much of the day on my own as the later waves tended to be favoured by the fastest riders.

Image courtesy of Dalila Lecky

There was a mandatory section of walking along the path by Stonehenge and most riders were taking the opportunity to snap some photos of the iconic site.

Image courtesy of Dalila Lecky

The first feed stop wasn't until 66 km. It didn't feel like it needed to be any sooner; the morning air was cool, so I still had plenty of water and most of the snacks in my top tube pack. The Red Bull reps tried to get me to swap my emergency cans of Monster for their on-brand offering. I declined, chugged a Red Bull, ate several slices of watermelon, refilled my water and continued onward.

Between the start and Feed 1, the route took us through many kilometres of Ministry Of Defence land. The red flags were out [which signals that there is live firing taking place in the area – Ed], but we had been told to expect this. And the cows grazing in between the firing ranges didn't seem particularly bothered. I saw on social media posts that some friends who had started later in the day on the shorter routes got passed by some military convoys and even a tank!

After Feed 1, a surprising change of scenery brought us away from the grasslands and into a massive pine forest. There were a few tricky little off-road climbs in this forest, but it was all rideable if you had the skills to deal with some chunky rocks. At the 82 km mark, in this very same forest, I would also need to make the only major decision of the day: would I continue on the 220 km route or drop down to the 135 km 'Rebel' route? Or, for the brave Rebels, would they step up to become a Bastard? I continued on the 220 km route, not wanting to miss out on any of the trails and challenges up ahead.

By midday, the grey morning gave way to blazing sun, ushering in the hottest part of the day. Fortunately, I'm very disciplined when it comes to responding to the 'eat' and 'drink' alerts on my bike computer, so I was neither parched nor starving by the time I reached the next feed stop. Feed 2, at 106 km, had all the usual snacks plus perfectly salted boiled potatoes. I ate about three or four of these, refilled my water and then set off.

Image courtesy of Dalila Lecky

Between Feed 2 and Feed 3, I was leapfrogging with a small group of riders as I was getting up the off-road climbs a bit quicker before they would come back past me on the flats and descents. I later helped one of these riders out by offering him some chewable electrolyte tablets when he was suffering from a leg cramp. I recalled how a dear friend had come to my rescue in a similar way a long time ago when I was less experienced at riding in hot weather.

Feed 3, at 153 km, was a lovely little cafe with many delicious-sounding items on the menu, but I didn't want to stop too long; it's a bad habit of mine. So I stopped just long enough to have an orange juice, a soda and another water refill.

There was a lot of tarmac between Feed 2 and 3, and I had been asking myself, "Where's the gravel?" But the 24 km distance between Feed 3 and Feed 4 had gravel that was so much harder than we had anticipated. A long, exposed, off-road climb threatened to drain whatever life we had left in our legs. Mentally, I was wishing for a return to the tarmac.

Although I had been looking forward to the Firepot fuel at Feed 4, by the time I arrived, I still wasn't hungry, having treated the whole day more as an eating challenge than a cycling one. So, I skipped the opportunity to try their camping meals and again opted for watermelon and water. Then I tried to have a little rest on a small patch of grass, but some very persistent horseflies started attacking me, so I took that as a sign to get going.

Image courtesy of Dalila Lecky

The last sector, from Feed 4 to the end, featured some fantastic, non-technical woodland trails with extensive tree cover, helping us escape the energy-sapping sunshine. There were a few short final climbs and then we were onto the gravel track that would take us up to the hilltop fort of Old Sarum.

We finished with the sound of cheers and whoops from the riders, who were already enjoying the finishing festivities. As soon as I crossed the finish line, one of the guys from Stohk came over with a cold beer to get the rehydration started. Maybe it was the heat, or perhaps it was a bit of exhaustion, but at that moment, it was the best-tasting beer I'd had in a while. The course wasn't mountainous, but it had worn us down with its relentless rollers, rough and rocky climbs, and the creeping fatigue of a 12-hour day in the sun.

I caught up with some London friends in the event village and enjoyed watching a bit of 'bike jousting' before heading off to take a shower.

Image courtesy of Dalila Lecky

Unfortunately, that's when my evening started to go a bit downhill. Someone had mistakenly turned off the tap supplying water to the temporary showers, so nothing was coming out of the faucets. I spent about half an hour wandering around in my microfibre towel, trying to find a working shower. Eventually, I figured out that two of them still had a water supply, but it was only cold water. After 220km of gravel, I figured a cold shower was better than no shower, so I braced myself and got it over with as quickly as possible. By the time I got out of the shower, the hot water to the other cubicles had been restored. I thought about taking a second shower, but instead, I decided to head back to the event village to have some dinner.

I got back to the event village only to find that dinner wasn't an option. The only hot food option had been pizzas, and the pizza stall had run out of ingredients entirely. The event guide had stated that a burger and fries option was supposed to be available at another stall, but it hadn't opened on either Friday or Saturday evening. Perhaps the pizza stall hadn't expected to be so popular. While the group chat lit up with grumbles from other late finishers and smug photos from those who'd snagged the last pizzas, I focused on finding something, anything, to eat. The cafe van only had cakes and crisps and that wouldn't do for dinner after a 220km gravel ride. Some riders were ordering through a delivery app. But in the end, I took the half-hour round-trip trek to the local shop; a couple of pasta pots and a milkshake would have to do.

Image courtesy of Dalila Lecky

Back at my tent, the silence spoke volumes; it had been a big day for everyone. The excited chatter of the night before had been replaced by only the faint sound of snoring. That is, until a few late campers finally heading to bed started finding earwigs in their tents, several of them. Fortunately, my tent was completely earwig-free, but I didn't rub it in their faces.

The next morning, there was only time to shower, have breakfast, pack up and go. I'd booked an early train back to London, so I wouldn't be able to join either the hangover ride or the 'sunrise' yoga session, which was at a reasonable 8:30 AM rather than the actual sunrise time of 4:47 AM. By noon, I was home, having had another successful weekend escape, with some lessons to take away about being prepared for a finish so late that the food stalls had run out of food - I really should have started in that first 4:30 AM wave!

The group chat post-event was full of positive praise for the organisers and the routes, shared photos and banter about the protein content of the earwigs that had infested the campsite. I'd been extra careful to make sure I didn't bring any home with me. But other riders found that they had not been so cautious. Maybe they could think of them as little six-legged mementoes from the event, especially since the official ride-finishing mementoes were missing, having been caught up in a logistical error. As for the missing dinner, the organisers reassure us that they'll make sure it doesn't happen next year.

Despite the hiccups, Stone Circle delivered precisely what I came for: big miles, new landscapes and some fun stories to bring home.

If you would like to find out more about the event (and start your preparation for 2026?), head over to their website. 

Images courtesy of Stone Circle/Matt Buckley except where credited.