In just a few years, the Malteni Bootleggers Gravel Race has emerged as one of the premier gravel events in France. With a challenging distance of nearly 250 km, uncertain weather conditions, technical gravel riding on former spoil tips and some of the most infamous paved sections borrowed from the Flemish Spring Classics, it’s no wonder it took so little time for the race to assert itself as one of the go-to events in both the French and Belgian gravel calendar.

Image courtesy of @Stephanie Didier

Born out of the passion of three locals for cobbles and gravel, it attracts riders from all over with a friendly atmosphere and a welcoming vibe that the Northerners are famous for all over France. The race gets its name from its main sponsor, a local brewery, and the fact that it crosses the Belgian border, where more than half of the course is, before coming back to France. Luckily, it isn’t mandatory to carry beer bottles on your bike while riding the Koppenberg or the Trouée d’Arenberg.

Image courtesy of @Stephanie Didier

After two cancelled editions due to the pandemic, it was time to get back in business. With my 2020 entry in hand, I showed up early (5.30am!) at the start, keen to test myself over a distance that most regular riders would consider very long while I, as an ultra-distance specialist, find really short.

Image courtesy of @Stephanie Didier

To avoid having a big peloton on narrow paths, we started in waves. I was in one of the final ones. With good legs, I started pushing a strong pace for the first 10km. Flat riding is not one of my strengths and I was quickly caught by a powerful Belgian rider. Unwilling to dig deep so early in the race, I chose to stick to my own pace and conserve energy for the second third of the course which promised to be the hilliest. 

Image courtesy of @Stephanie Didier

Slowly but surely, I started catching riders that had left before me. Shortly before one of the three strategically located checkpoints, I caught the decorated ultra-cyclist Ben Steurbaut who had just finished fixing a flat tyre. Following the code of competitive bikepackers, we chose to ride together side by side rather than drafting each other. We caught the leading group at CP1 and soon there were three of us pushing the pace in the lead as we climbed the steep hills of Flanders.

Image courtesy of @Stephanie Didier

By the time we got to CP2, Ben and I were the only two left at the front, wheel to wheel. While I tested him in the hills, he was making me sweat on the flat. It was a beautiful day to ride a bike – a sunny spring morning with a slight tailwind, nice blue skies and no clouds to be seen on the horizon. I was thoroughly enjoying our battle and for 90% of the course, Ben and I were evenly matched. It was only in the final kilometres of the race – as we climbed the last spoil tip – that I managed to open up a tiny gap. I gave it my all to the finish, almost cramping up in the last 2km, but managed to hold on to my lead. Ben crossed the line a couple of minutes later and we shook hands like two gentlemen.

I hung around the venue that was hosting the event (a small hotel and restaurant) waiting for the other finishers, before a joint dinner and a low-key podium ceremony. Rehydration took the form of Malteni beer, of course, while exchanging stories of the day. 

I seized the opportunity to stay local the next day so that I could watch Paris Roubaix from the roadside, enjoying my rest day in the sun while the WorldTour peloton took their turn at suffering.