Header image courtesy of Dirty Reiver

A decade ago, a fledgling gravel cycling event was launched in Kielder Forest, right on the English–Scottish border. At the time, gravel racing was still relatively new in Europe, but the creator of Dirty Reiver - having competed in some of the largest gravel events in the United States - saw potential for it to catch on here as well. Fast forward ten years and Dirty Reiver remains as popular as ever. Riders are drawn by the opportunity to tackle a traffic-free course through one of Europe’s largest man-made forests and demand is so high that entries sell out every year. Valerio Stuart secured a spot for the 2026 edition and sent us in a report of how he got on.

Header image courtesy of Dirty Reiver

Dirty Reiver is probably THE gravel event in the UK. It promises plenty of premium gravel on three closed-road routes of 65, 130 and 200km, mostly within Kielder Forest. Started in 2016, it’s been going for 10 years and I’ve been meaning to go and see what it’s about.

If you search the web for Dirty Reiver, you’ll come up with hundreds of articles and video recaps from either racers at the pointy end or gravel grinders out for a good time and enjoying the (brilliant) atmosphere at the event. However, if you are a relatively regular rider aiming to get around the 200km route as fast as possible - but nowhere near as fast as the elite riders - you might struggle to find a lot of information. So here’s my recap, my planning ahead of the event and my thoughts having completed it. 

Good intentions

I didn’t turn up to Dirty Reiver in the shape I thought I would. When I signed up for the 200 km, I had a different bike, a decent run of fitness, and every intention of carrying that through winter. That didn’t really happen. I sold the bike, trained less than planned, and by April I was a bit heavier and not feeling particularly sharp. I even tried to sell my entry, but didn’t manage it. So I went anyway. 

The run-up

I had about a month to get some riding back into my legs. Not ideal, but enough to know I could get around. The question was how comfortably. I had sub-9 hours in mind. A stretch, but not unrealistic on a good day. Then the weather turned out far better than expected. After a long, grey winter, Kielder was warm and sunny. Great for riding, but it did change things more than I gave it credit for. 

The bike and setup 

I kept things simple and used what I trusted:

• Salsa Cutthroat
• Shimano GRX 12-speed (38t front, 10-51t cassette)
• Beespoke carbon wheels with Hope Pro hubs
• Schwalbe G-One RS Pro 50 mm tyres at around 25 psi
• Redshift Shockstop Stem & Pro Seatpost
• Two 950ml bottles + a 2L hydration bladder

Storage was mostly a Tailfin long top-tube bag for tools, a repair kit and some food, with the rest in pockets. Kit was Ciovita throughout, including bibs with good storage, which made eating on the move easy. Nutrition was a mix of Luchos, Styrkr, Maurten and Clif. Nothing new, nothing risky. I carried about 1kg of carbs with me, aiming for 90gr/h. Everything felt sorted. 

The start

The start was as busy as expected. I followed the queue and somehow ended up in the second pen, just behind the elites(!). That sorted itself out fairly quickly. As soon as we rolled out of the neutralised section, the pace lifted and I was immediately dropped. Which was fine.

I planned to ride to numbers:

• Around 200W on flatter sections
• Keep climbs under 250 to 280W

That meant a lot of people came past me early on, especially on the climbs, but I tried to stick to my plan.

“So far…so good…” 

Image courtesy of Phil Carr

For the first half, things felt under control. I was eating regularly, not pushing hard, and generally riding how I’d planned. If anything, it felt a bit easier than expected. The heart rate eventually settled, after a bit of a hectic start, and I was riding on my own and well within my limits. The plan was working. The gravel was beautiful, although entering some corners a bit too fast made for some interesting skids.

Where it went wrong

I skipped the second feed stop. Expecting to ride in relatively cool conditions, I started with 2L of water in my hydration pack and empty bottles. I planned to fill up bottles at the first feed (59km), skip the second feed (110km), and refill at the third and last feed stop (160km).

I stopped at the first feed station as planned, filled up the 2 bottles and set off. This worked really well and made for an efficient stop. By the time I got to the second feed, I had “some” water in my hydration pack and 1 full bottle left. I thought that could get me to feed number three. 

Image courtesy of Phil Carr

That was the one mistake that shaped the rest of the ride. By around 120-130 km, I’d run out of water. Completely. And with the temperature higher than expected, that gap to the third feed stop was longer than it should have been. Nothing dramatic happened. Things just got gradually harder.

I focused on keeping the pedals turning and not doing anything silly. I knew the next feed would come eventually, and I didn’t want to push too hard and risk having to stop or making a mistake on a descent. At the same time, my stomach started to go. I hadn’t been eating properly for a while, and I couldn’t face the bars I had left. With a dry mouth, even trying felt like a bad idea and after trying to take a bite out of a rice bar I had to spit it out as I nearly felt sick.

The spirit of gravel: a bit of help

I ended up riding alongside a Scottish rider for a bit. We got chatting, and he offered me some water. I said I was fine. He insisted. Those few sips helped more than I expected. Not a fix, but enough to take the edge off and get me to the next feed stop without things getting worse.

Getting back on top of it

At the third feed, around 160 km, I stopped properly. Drank a lot, refilled my two bottles, and gave myself a minute. After that, things improved. The legs came back gradually, I could push a bit more, and the last part of the ride felt more normal again. With the end of the ride approaching, I now stopped listening to the power meter and could “easily” hit 4-500W on the climbs. A sign that my legs were still working well, but also that I possibly undercooked my ride. 

The finish

I finished in 9 hours and 5 minutes. Close to what I’d hoped for, but also clearly a bit of time lost in the middle. With better hydration, keeping power a bit higher on the climbs, I’d expect to be comfortably under 9 hours without changing much else. After chatting with a few friends and other riders, it was time for pizza - the only thing that kept me going after the resupply fiasco - rice, and more pizza.  I just about managed to soak in the last bit of sunshine before the sun eventually set, fire pits started going and temperatures got a lot cooler. Riders were still coming through in the dark.

A few things that stood out

You might not find a group. I expected to ride with others more. Didn’t really happen. Different pacing meant people kept coming and going. I’d get passed on climbs and then come back past on descents. It never settled into a proper group. If you’d rather ride with others and use a bit of “shelter” from the wind, do NOT set off with the elites!

It’s not completely smooth. A lot of it is fast and smooth, but there are just about enough rough sections and loose gravel to keep you paying attention. You can’t fully switch off and get distracted, especially at speed and on the descents. You’ll hit patches of double track filled with loose chunky-ish - and sharp-ish! - gravel. At speed, that could do some damage and I definitely saw plenty of riders repairing punctures at the side of the trails.

My 50mm slick Schwalbe worked perfectly for me. In less optimal weather or if I had been riding in a group, I might have wanted something with a bit more grip and possibly a wider tyre at the front. My bike takes up to 2.4” tyres and I was tempted to use some more beefier 2.1” tyres, which seemed popular amongst the crowd. In the end, I think I made the right choice, but either set up would have worked well.

The atmosphere is a bit different. Compared to bikepacking events, it felt more focused and a bit less chatty, especially early on. Not unfriendly, just different. It’s not a coincidence that the only other rider I chatted with for a good chunk of time turned out to be another bikepacker! (good to meet you Matt!)

What I’d do differently

• Be less rigid with the plan and take the weather into account properly
• Don’t skip a feed stop just to save time
• Aim for a higher power output (but I appreciate that this comes from experience, which I don’t yet have)
• Aim for a higher carb/h ratio. I felt fine with 90gr/h and should be able to push well over 100gr.
• Potentially take a third bottle - my frame fits 3 within the triangle - and lose the hydration pack. Drinking from the bottles was never an issue. 

What worked

• Pacing was sensible. I finished hitting 200W average and 223NP, which was my goal.
• My nutrition plan was good until hydration became an issue
• Bike and setup were spot on
• No mechanicals

So overall, a solid day with one clear mistake. 

Final thoughts

The main takeaway for me is pretty simple: having a plan is useful. Sticking to it blindly isn’t. I probably could have ridden harder. But more importantly, when I recognised that in those conditions not refilling earlier was going to cause problems, I should have listened to my gut instead of sticking with the plan. Optimism is good, but in this case, hoping that “I’d be fine” didn’t quite work out! It’s a small thing, but it made a big difference.

And if anything, it’s made me more keen for the next one. 

The official images from the event can be found here.

You can pre-register for details of the 2027 edition of Dirty Reiver here.

Images courtesy of Valerio Stuart except where credited.