Two minutes after leaving the start line of the Big Sugar Classic, I was riding towards a line of cars at 25 mph. The riders in front of me were hopping curbs in order to avoid the vehicles, with one rider nearly sliding out on the rain-slick asphalt. We were turning left onto the highway, across four lanes of traffic and towards more oncoming cars. This was supposedly the “neutral zone” of the race, but already we were racing for our lives.
In the confusion, the left side of the peloton had slipped past the pace car, and suddenly, riders were sprinting off the front of the field. In any other race, they’d be disqualified: they’d cut the course, nearly ridden into oncoming traffic, passed the lead vehicle, and launched attacks in the so-called neutral zone.
But no penalties came, so the race went on. Moments later, a race moto drifted off the back of the lead vehicle and into the peloton. Riders hesitated, unsure whether they were overtaking an official race vehicle or just trying to stay upright. By the time the moto lurched forward again, we were already barreling toward a roundabout.
Then: chaos. Riders slammed on their brakes and skidded through the corner. A car – not a race vehicle, but a pedestrian car – sat in the oncoming lane of the left side of the roundabout. We swerved past it, missing it by just a few inches. Thankfully, we made it through safely, but I have seen riders life-flighted to the hospital from this exact scenario.
A crash in the 2025 Big Sugar Classic
(Image credit: Life Time)
We hit the first section of gravel at 35 mph, making it through shaken but unscathed (unless you count the screaming pain in our legs). I saw a few crashes throughout the race, but 99% of them were the riders’ fault. Most of the time, riders had simply come into a corner too hot.
The aid station, on the other hand, was one of the more dangerous I have experienced. After a technical and off-camber gravel descent (where some of the contenders decided to attack), we raced through the aid station at 30 mph with friends, family and soigneurs scattered across the road. I later heard from my family (who were at the aid station) that they hadn’t seen any Life Time organisers or race officials at the aid station. They just drove in on a steep gravel road and only knew where to go by following everyone else.
There were people standing on both sides of the road, which, from a rider’s perspective, is incredibly dangerous. Feeding is typically only done from the right-hand side of the road (unless you’re racing in a country that rides on the left-hand side of the road) to keep things smooth and safe for everyone. I was amazed to not see any crashes, especially since we were racing past clueless spectators at such high speeds.
Following the aid station, a steep grass climb helped split the field. From there, it was full-on racing for almost an hour before the thunderstorms rolled in. With around 10 miles to go, the rain started falling, and a few minutes later, we were racing through an absolute downpour. I could see the dark clouds in the distance, and it wasn’t long before the lightning was on top of us.
I’ve been in many sporting scenarios where the game/race/match was stopped because of lightning. I don’t know exactly what Life Time’s policy is for a lightning-caused neutralisation, but I was shocked this wasn’t it. At times, the lightning must have been less than five miles away, and we were racing across the wide open fields of Arkansas.
With a few miles to go, the rain still pelting down, we turned left onto a highway lined with hundreds of cars. All vehicle traffic was stopped in the right lane of a two-lane highway, so our group rode on the left side of the road into oncoming traffic. Thankfully, the oncoming lane seemed to be closed, but the oncoming traffic was still present, consisting of hundreds of age-group riders who were embarking on the outbound part of the course.
So there we were, racing on the wrong side of the highway in a thunderstorm, avoiding vehicles on our right and oncoming riders on our left. I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as we turned off that nightmare of a road.
There were only five miles to go once we turned off the gravel for good, and then we only had to dodge puddles on the paved roads back into Bentonville. The final climbs were tough but safe, and the final sprint was thankfully clear of all traffic.
Life Time has done an incredible job growing the Grand Prix to what it is today, but I fear for rider safety in races like these.
The organisers had told us the day before the Big Sugar race that a final decision regarding the race distance would be made at 6:30 a.m. With severe thunderstorms in the forecast, they were considering shortening the Elite races from 100 miles to 50.
On race morning, 6:30 a.m. came and went, so we all rolled up to the start line with our pockets full of gels, mentally ready for a 100-mile race. 25 minutes before the Elite Men’s start, Life Time sent out an email that the race would be shortened to 50 miles. Most riders were already on the start line, warming up, or doing their final race preparations – they weren’t checking their email.
There were more than a few riders who only learned about the course change through word of mouth. And because it was so close to the start time, some riders didn’t even have the 50-mile course downloaded to their bike computer.
The finish of the 2025 Big Sugar Classic
(Image credit: Life Time)
When it came to the race itself, the same inconsistency applied to the safety of the neutral rollout. Why did the moto lead us into oncoming traffic? Is it illegal to pass the lead vehicle? If so, why were those riders never penalised?
If you never punish those who break the rules, they will continue to break them over and over again.
Of course, without Life Time, gravel wouldn’t have the dominating status that it has today. While other disciplines are struggling to stay afloat, gravel races are selling out in minutes. These events are receiving thousands of entries, and they still have a waitlist that is twice as long.
I loved racing the Big Sugar Classic. At times, the course was sketchy and a bit scary, but it was super fun. I would go and race it again in a heartbeat, and I recommend it to anyone who loves hard gravel racing. And clearly, Life Time is doing something right, but at every race, I hear grumblings from riders about sketchy course features, less-than-pro riders in the elite fields, and other rider safety concerns.
On one hand, I get it. People will complain about anything, and gravel racing is unpredictable. I’m sure there are people in the world who complain about Mother Theresa.
Yet, on the other hand, these are professional gravel racers who fly around the world to race their bike in every condition imaginable. When I hear 20 riders saying the same thing about a sketchy neutral zone, that is when I know that it’s gone too far. Complaining about unpredictable weather is one thing; racing into oncoming traffic in the neutral zone? That is something that needs to be addressed and fixed immediately. Don’t wait until someone gets hurt.
Explore More
