11 // Do Better

Watching Sea Otter in mid-April brought a moment of reflection on how much has changed over the last two years, since I first packed up my life to chase something that felt freer, more adventurous. The fear of the unknown, my quest to belong. Over the last two years, through learning, through failing — has led me to a grounding confidence in who I am, what I value, who I value, and how I want to spend my time, which feels increasingly precious.

I’ve lost a few people in my circle recently, which has made me reflect even more deeply on time, and what "enough" might look like. Earlier this week, my Pop decided he had spent enough time on this Earth. His body had slowly begun to fail him, and the joys that time once brought had grown distant with age. A courageous decision I admire and respect, amongst the grief that losing a loved one brings.

I know you’re probably not here to read self-reflections or life updates, but tying thoughts to dates and events helps me process.

I returned home at the end of March after racing Cape Epic, which was an incredible experience that you can read about here . Despite catching COVID on the way home, and a mild concussion (pro tip: don’t sauna too hard, kids), I wanted to put my Cape Epic fitness to use and I realised Gravel National Championships were only a few weeks away.

Gravel Nationals were held at Pedrosa Pines, about an hour north of Adelaide. The pine forest had a network of enclosed access roads, making for a safe, cost-effective racing circuit. Sure, it lacked any real "vibe," but for a championship event, people come to race — and the course offered plenty of opportunities for great racing.

On the start line, the elite women lined up, with the masters men corralled behind us to start a few minutes later. I couldn’t believe it when the commissaire announced we would be allowed to jump into passing bunches. I felt furious — for a national championship, surely we deserved our own, uninterrupted race.

To actually debrief on my race, and the DNF that sits against my name — I felt good and enjoyed working with a few other riders to control the pace and lines. The course featured one steep, rocky climb on the loop (we raced two of the 50km loops), and despite it being no steeper or more technical than my own driveway (which to be fair, is awfully steep and rocky), I lost traction momentarily and had to jog up the remainder as the reduced front group of 8–10 riders rode away.

I had to laugh at myself for messing it up, and it took a few matches to chase back onto the lead group of women, and I was relieved when I made contact again.

Not long after, I glanced back and saw the charging group of men approaching. As they passed, a handful of women jumped onto their bunch. Even though it was allowed, I immediately knew the race would become a game of "who can hang on," rather than a true women's race.

Still a little gassed from chasing, I struggled with the men's pace, feeling frustrated that our championship race had been compromised by the decision to not give us our own space to race. If you need examples of why this is important, Unbound 2024 is a good starting point.

Eventually, I was stuck in no man's land as the women were dragged apart, and I tried not to let my anger get the best of me and focused on reaching the finish. During the second lap, I sliced my rear tyre on a nothing descent, rode the insert to the tech zone, and eventually called it when even the largest bacon strips couldn’t seal the slice.

My own race aside, my anger is directed at AusCycling — and the ongoing pleas from professional women in gravel to simply be given our own, uninterrupted races. I'm tired of the fact that it’s still us — women — who have to squawk for better coverage, equal prize money, and uninterrupted, fair, racing conditions. I'll keep squawking so that future generations can look back in disbelief that we even had to fight for such simple equalities — ones that seem minor compared to other disparities that still exist globally.

Can you believe that until 1983, women couldn’t even obtain a passport without their husband’s permission?! Or how, once upon a time, substantial grounds for divorce included wives not preparing breakfast for their husbands. I highly recommend Richard Glover’s The Land Before Avocado for a laugh — and a reality check about how recently these patriarchal norms were the standard in our own country.

My frustration extends beyond this race — because, in the end, it’s just a bike race. I’m disappointed in my performance and angry about how the race unfolded, but I know there will be another. More than anything, I’m processing the loss of one of the most influential men in my life — someone who never made me feel I was anything less because of my gender.

My Pop — a man who wore rubber gloves and washed dishes better than anyone I know. A man known for his cooking, for looking after my Nan, and for raising four incredible women, who I’m lucky to call my aunties. I didn’t grow up in a house where women belonged in one room and men in another. And while reflecting this week after his passing, I wish I could have told him what an influence he had on my life, and probably one of the reasons why I’m so passionate about equality.

To my dad, who never made me feel confined to what a girl "should" or "shouldn't" be. A man who shows emotion openly, who sketches little drawings of our sleeping cat inside all of my birthday cards. I was never "his little girl" — I was Ella: someone who loved horses, the outdoors, sport, and eventually, cycling..

I've been on both sides of the fence — as a racer and as a race organiser, and I truly understand that it's hard to please everyone. But AusCycling, you made a mistake yesterday by not giving us an uninterrupted race. We deserve, and are entitled to, the same opportunity the elite men get every time: to race against our peers, without interference from those of different physicality.

I’ve wasted enough of my time, which is precious, ranting about this one race that ultimately means very little, but I value this topic, and I want to see our sport be better. I’ll keep showing up, speaking up and pushing to see the sport I love be a space where opportunity isn’t determined by gender. Do better next time, AusCycling, please.