By Clara Hatcher — Halfway through the 2026 Dirty Dino Utah Gravel Series race, I felt euphoric. Shooting for dead middle of the pack, I thought, never felt so good.
After I signed up for the Stegosaurus 60 in March, I started training to simply do my best. I had one gravel race under my belt, Minnesota’s Heck of the North, but I did not know what to expect from June 13th’s gravel race in Vernal, Utah.
I’m not one to think I’ll place in the top 10 — I’m a little too slow for that. But I thought racing to place in the middle of my 30-plus age group would be a respectable goal. When I started training, I prioritized elevation gain. The Dirty Dino routes center around climbing that loops through the High Uinta wilderness.
I rode up Big Cottonwood Canyon, lapped Millcreek Canyon, trudged up Emigration Canyon and Big Mountain, and rode Jeremy Ranch road. I put in the work to build climbing muscle, and I have to say it paid off.
On Saturday, June 13, my girlfriends Jennifer Hughes, Stacey Allum and I woke at a brisk 5:15 a.m. and started donning chamois, jerseys and packing our snacks. I shoved almond butter packets, Gu energy gels, energy chews, salt tablets, and a bar in the rear pockets of my jersey and the sole handlebar bag that would join me on my race.
Jenn, who is no stranger to long rides, opted to take on the T-Rex 100. At 7 a.m., she started pedaling through 98.4 miles and more than 9,000 feet of elevation gain. To prep, Jenn did rides like the “super loop” in the Salt Lake Valley and Wasatch Back. She rode up Emigration Canyon, through Jeremy Ranch, along Guardsman Pass, dropped down into Midway and made her way back home in Cottonwood Heights.
An experienced distance rider, Jenn had one piece of advice for Stacey and me: eat every 20 minutes. It is, she said, the only way to stay fueled enough for big climbs throughout a long, long day in the saddle.
Stacey and I both toyed with the idea of riding the 100-mile race, but ultimately decided that we would feel more comfortable tackling the 60-miler.
For me, the point of hesitation was not the mileage. It was the elevation gain. With the Stegosaurus 60 route, we would take on more than 5,700 feet of elevation gain over 58.6 miles. That, I thought, was a much more doable option for an early summer race.
My choice ultimately made itself when I woke up after a full two days of yard work the week of the race and realized I had tweaked my knee. Bending it caused soreness, and I had bruising along one of my ligaments. I rested throughout the week and did not manage to ride my bike before the race. The combination did not create a recipe for pushing it beyond reason.
I had worked too hard to forgo racing altogether and opted for a more conservative approach to the climbing that would spread out over the first 30 miles of the race.
I planned to start comfortably — to warm up before beginning to really challenge myself. Then, when I reached the second half, I’d punch it.
At 7 a.m., Stacey and I waved off Jenn at the start of the 100-miler. Then, we went to prep our bikes. We shed our layers, filled up on electrolyte water and made our way to the crowd of racers lining up at the starting line of our 60-mile race.
I felt calm. I had a plan. Stacey and I decided to go at our own pace. I could take as much time as I needed, but I planned to finish no matter what.
At 7:30 a.m., we started pedaling. I let Stacey break away with the horde of cyclists up front and rode the first 10 miles at a steady pace. As the route broke into vertical gain, I realized I could easily pick up the pace. Then, I realized that I could keep up with and pass other riders on the uphill — an achievement I never expected from myself.
We gained more than 2,000 feet of elevation from mile 10, when we transitioned from pavement to gravel, until mile 16, which marked the first aid station. The climb was arduous and occasionally steep. I chatted with other racers on the way up to pass the time and share encouragement.
An older couple rode on a tandem bike, getting out of the saddle in sync during steep climbs. I met a father–daughter duo racing together. But my favorite riding partner was Gretchen Cassidy, who was riding in the 60-plus age division.
Gretchen, from Ogden, and I talked about her experience competing in past Dirty Dino races. She said it’s something she likes to do for the community. I could see what she meant. As a horde of us rode through the High Uintas, we shared nothing but communal encouragement and positivity.
As we rode together, Gretchen and I chatted about biking and bikepacking, racing and living in Utah. Though she stopped for a break during the initial climb, we continued to see each other at nearly every aid station. Gretchen finished just a few minutes after I did.
Once I hit the first aid station, I felt good. Proud. There were only a few thousand feet of vertical gain left in the race, which felt feasible. I had downed two energy gels at the 30-minute and 60-minute marks. I drank water religiously. This, I thought, was not so bad.
I began adopting a more-or-less delusionally positive mindset. I was the little engine that could, I thought. I was the tortoise and the hare. I was racing, ultimately, myself, and I was unstoppable.
Throughout the next 12 miles, where the next aid station sat, I dutifully kept up my speed through the climbs and began to slowly push myself a little bit harder with each mile. The terrain leveled out in some spots. We rolled across champagne gravel through troves of Aspen trees.
At the 30-mile aid station, I was ready to start hammering. I downed a shot of pickle juice, shoved a banana in my mouth and allowed myself to sit for just two minutes. Then, I hopped back on my bike and started pedaling again. The next aid station would not come for another 17 miles.
I booked it through the ups and downs. I held back a bit on the downhill sections to avoid potholes and washboard and sped up across the flats and the climbs. When I had just 1,500 feet of climbing left, I stopped to down almond butter and my bar, two salt chews and a bottle of water.
This was it. After I completed the climbing, I would have nothing but smooth sailing. Another rider, Finn Kendall, who raced with their partner, had done the route before and said cheerfully, “You’re done!” when we reached the top of the last climb.
I coasted down more than 4,000 feet of elevation loss. I rode the fastest 20k of my life. Then, the fastest 30k.
At the finish line, I felt myself choking up from sheer pride. But, more than that, I had a great day riding through beautiful mountains, across prime gravel. Stacey, who finished more than 20 minutes before me, cheered me on as I crossed the finish line.
At the end of the day, Stacey finished 11th out of the 20 women in our age category, and I finished 12th. Jenn finished third out of the five women in her age group. Two racers did not finish the 100-miler in her category.
Overall, Sky Moench finished first for women in the 60-mile race with a time of 3 hours and 28 minutes. Gerrit Garberich came first for men with a time of 3 hours and 13 minutes. Mackenzie Lemieus finished the 100-miler in 5 hours and 48 minutes, and Truman Glasgow took first for men’s with a time of 5 hours and 9 minutes.
Just days after the finish, I am already plotting ideas for another race. Next time, a 100-miler. After the confidence boost from the Dirty Dino, I feel like that kind of race is within reach. But maybe I’ll take a month or two of training before committing.
And, for now, some rest.
[See part 1 of this story Training for the Utah Gravel Series’ Dirty Dino Gravel Race in our June 2026 issue and online at CyclingWest.com]
