Gravel racing just got a radical makeover, and it’s sparking conversations across the cycling world. But here’s where it gets controversial: is it possible to create a high-stakes, adrenaline-fueled event that also prioritizes intimacy and community? That’s exactly what Kevin Vermaak, the mastermind behind the legendary Cape Epic, set out to do with the inaugural Nedbank Gravel Burn in South Africa’s Great Karoo. On my Overnight Success podcast, I usually wait a decade before profiling a business—because, let’s face it, overnight success is a myth. But Gravel Burn? It broke all my rules.
After attending the event last month, I sat down with Kevin to dissect what makes this race so groundbreaking. From its daring design choices to its emphasis on “scalable intimacy,” Gravel Burn isn’t just a race—it’s a reimagined experience. But don’t just take my word for it. And this is the part most people miss: the event’s success wasn’t just about crossing the finish line; it was about the risks taken, the moments of pure magic, and the lessons learned along the way.
Kevin shared that the overwhelming feeling post-event wasn’t satisfaction—it was relief. Relief that their vision of riders navigating corrugated roads, moving camp daily, and experiencing the raw beauty of the Karoo had actually worked. It wasn’t a Cape Epic clone; it was something entirely new. Highlights? The Night Burn, with its bonfires, laser shows, and Tom Pidcock’s daredevil jumps, left everyone in awe. Or the finale in Shamwari, where riders finished amidst a Big Five game reserve—a logistical marvel that required immense buy-in.
But let’s dive deeper. Why return to the “moving every day” format? Kevin explains it’s about balancing adventure with comfort. While the Cape Epic was all about brutal competition, Gravel Burn is a more social, exploratory ride. Here’s the bold part: they’re considering letting riders stay in one location for two nights to enhance comfort, but the adventure element remains non-negotiable.
The solo format, chosen for safety and logistics, unexpectedly fostered a sense of community. Kevin’s concept of “scalable intimacy”—grouping riders into smaller “Lapas” around campfires—created tight-knit communities within the larger event. Even as Gravel Burn grows, this modular design ensures the personal connections remain intact.
Now, let’s talk money. With an entry fee of nearly $4,000, Gravel Burn isn’t cheap. But here’s the reality: the fee doesn’t cover the costs. Sponsorships, media partnerships, and a long-term brand-building strategy are the keys to sustainability. Kevin admits they won’t turn a profit for years, but that’s the price of creating something iconic.
One of the most daring decisions? The “no spectator” rule at the finish line. Inspired by the Dakar Rally, Gravel Burn leaned into its isolation, creating a finish line shot with just a windmill, an oil drum, and the vast Karoo landscape. It wasn’t just visually stunning—it gave pros like Alistair Brownlee and Tom Pidcock a rare moment of peace, free from selfie requests.
But here’s the uncomfortable question: how does an event like this address the stark inequality in South Africa? While riders enjoy massages and moon boots, local staff often live below the poverty line. Kevin acknowledges the challenge and emphasizes the importance of engaging local communities in a way that contributes, not exploits.
Gravel Burn isn’t just a race—it’s a statement. It challenges us to rethink what’s possible in event design, community building, and even ethical tourism. So, here’s my question to you: Can an event truly balance high-octane adventure with meaningful social impact? Let’s hear your thoughts in the comments—I’m all ears.
