I am stunned–STUNNED–by both the quantity and the quality of your submissions to the Bike Snob Something Spirit Of Gravel Free Lubricant Contest or whatever the hell I called it. STUNNED, I tell you. I mean here I am searching and searching for the mysterious and elusive Spirit of Gravel, something no human has as of yet been able to successfully define, and then someone just sends me the answer in an email asking only for a bottle of chain lube in return:
Toward a Unified Framework for the Spirit of Gravel
The Spirit of Gravel (hereafter, SPOG) is a multidimensional construct—one that resists definition while simultaneously demanding it. While commonly associated with bicycles, gravel, and riding bicycles on gravel, SPOG is better understood as an experience layer that overlays these activities.
Researchers (and by researchers, we mean riders with opinions) generally agree on several core attributes:
- Intentional inefficiency — choosing routes that are slower, rougher, and more narratively satisfying
- Curated authenticity — appearing unconcerned with appearances while optimizing them aggressively
- Equipment minimalism — achieved through maximal equipment
- Transcendence via inconvenience — mechanical, meteorological, or existential
Importantly, SPOG is not about racing—unless racing is framed as “not racing.” In such cases, competitive behavior may occur, provided it is accompanied by disclaimers.
The Spirit of Gravel emphasizes freedom—though not infinite freedom. Rather, it is a bounded freedom, defined by tire clearance, acceptable color palettes, and the shared understanding that pavement is a moral failure unless rebranded as “connector.”
A key paradox emerges here:
- Gravel is about escape
- Escape requires documentation
- Documentation requires stopping
- Stopping undermines flow
- Flow is optional
Thus, SPOG exists most fully after the ride, during reflection, caption-writing, and light self-mythologization.
In summary—though summaries may be premature—the Spirit of Gravel is less a thing than a process. A process of becoming slightly dustier, slightly slower, and significantly more certain that this was the correct way to ride.
P.S. FRTHR STDY N GRVL MNY LRN THS: GRVL ≠ RD; IT ≠ JMP; SPD ≠ GUD; DUST = ESSNTL.
Incredible. This is like someone casually texting you the solution to one of those great unsolved mathematical problems while they’re sitting on the toilet:
[I have no idea what this means but it looks pretty intense.]
Look, I may not have done it myself, but I still deserve full credit for solving the problem that has been vexing the cycling media since at least 2013 when gravel was invented. After all, it was I who provided the spark by starting this contest, which will soon be known as the cycling world’s equivalent of the Nobel Prize. And yet all these other bike publications will continue to act like we haven’t figured out gravel since they need to continue to justify their existence, and to that end they’ll keep pushing nonsense like this:
Here’s the hypothesis:
Like a frog in a pot that’s slowly heated to boiling, tires started getting wider and knobbier. Then came suspension, a little bit at first and only in the front, until eventually, many gravel bikers were saying, “Yeah, rear suspension could smooth things out even more.” Now, it’s only a matter of time until a critical mass of these fresh dirt disciples discover what a game-changer dropper posts are.
Of course, as mountain bikers, we knew all of this was coming. No one needs a special bike for riding on gravel — “Just ride a mountain bike!” we cried. After all, we’ve been slogging up fire roads literally since the beginning, mixing surfaces and having the times of our lives in the woods, far away from the din and danger of traffic.
NO NO NO NO NO.
No.
Silly, delusional mountain bikers.
Gravel bikes were not invented to “turn roadies into mountain bikers.” Gravel bikes were invented because mountain bikers are LITERALLY THE WORST and turned perfectly good bikes into freakish articulating extreme sports accessories that need to be shuttled to trailheads in pickup trucks and that have more in common with ATVs than they do bicycles–especially now that they have motors. MOTORS. So the bike industry had to travel back 30-plus years into the past like Bruce Willis in “12 Monkeys” to before the virus got released in order to re-learn what bikes should be like, then they had to re-introduce the so-called “mountain bike” under a new name since that term had long since become tainted by the Watermelon Humpers:
And make no mistake: the fact that “gravel bikes” now increasingly have suspension and dropper posts is not a sign that the bicycle industry is somehow coming to its senses; rather, it’s merely proof that they’re making the same mistake yet again, since doubling down is their specialty. [To wit: pretty much every bike boom.] They didn’t turn roadies into mountain bikers; they turned mountain bikers into electric motorcyclists, and so they had to reinvent the mountain bike with a new name, only now that’s also becoming an electric motorcycle:
[Only Twelve Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety-Nine American Fun Tickets!™]
This means in 10 or 20 years they’ll need to reinvent the simple all-around bicycle yet again with yet another name inspired by yet another surface everybody’s always ridden on and never gave much thought to until it became a marketing term. Maybe they can call it a “Soil Bike.”
Jesus, even GCN has figured it out:
All-terrain bicycles that were designed to be ridden over long distances? Wow, what a concept! The fact that the bike media in 2026 is blown away by the concept of a rideable mountain bike really says it all.
Speaking of soil biking, it looks like that New Hampshire bicycle registration law isn’t going to happen:
Though not everybody is pleased:
Not all the testimony was opposed to the bill. Concord-area farmer Don Ross has several hundred acres of his land in conservation easements that allow public access by foot but not bicycle or horses. He said mountain bikers regularly ride across his property and cause crop damage and he would like to see the legislation create resources for authorities to enforce the ban on bikes, including some kind of registration that allowed riders to be identified. He noted that parts of his property appear on Strava maps of mountain bike routes.
“We have no way of identifying those people; they won’t give us their names. There’s no registration sticker on their helmet, on their bike or anything for me to just snap a picture of without confrontation. It puts the burden on the landowner and that is unfair. … how do we protect the private land owners that are providing trails for the public? We need your help. It has been ongoing for years and years,” he testified.
Wait a minute. Can’t you just shoot at them? Seems easy enough. Hey, I’m not saying I’m in favor of it, but as an inveterate urbanite it was my understanding from movies and TV that if someone was a-trespassin’ on your property you could at least shake your fist then take a pot shot or two at them. I know when I’m riding upstate I see scary signs with bullets on them and I can assure you that’s enough for me. It certainly seems more effective than trying to call in some kind of helmet number–though maybe the Smart Hat was an idea ahead of its time:
Australia truly is the most advanced helmet nation on Earth.