There are races you do for the result, and there are races that remind you why you got into this sport in the first place. The Hills, in the Prosecco Hills of northern Italy, is the second kind. Though make no mistake — the racing is serious.
I keep saying that each event in this 2026 season has been different. Santa Vall was two days of technical Catalan climbing. Turnhout was flat Belgian chaos. The Hills was neither of those things. It was — and I don’t use this word lightly — beautiful. The kind of course where you’re suffering at 80% effort on a loose climb through a vine-covered hillside and you notice that you’re in a UNESCO World Heritage site and for a second you forget you’re racing.
Only a second, mind.
The Course
124 kilometres. 1,915 metres of climbing. Ninety-five percent off-road. The course starts in Susegana, winds through the Prosecco Hills east of Treviso, and finishes at Borgoluce — an estate that’s been making wine since the 1400s. I am from Blackpool. This was a lot to take in.
The terrain is relentlessly varied. Hard-packed vineyard tracks, loose technical descents, some genuinely rough sections that test your line choices and your hands. It’s the kind of course that rewards experience on the bike more than pure power, which meant I felt at home from quite early on.
The climbing doesn’t come in one lump — it builds and builds across the whole course, with the hardest section arriving late when your legs are already making their case for stopping. I’ve learned this year that late-race climbing is where my races are won or lost. When it hurts the most is when the most time can be made, and I’ve been chasing that feeling since I started racing.
The Gravel Earth Series
This was my first Gravel Earth Series race and it felt distinct from the UCI Gravel World Series events. The scale is different — The Hills field isn’t 2,500 riders — but the quality at the front is very high, and the event itself has a real identity. The Prosecco Hills setting gives it something that a purpose-built course can’t manufacture. The terrain is ancient and the roads are what they are. You adapt to them.
After Turnhout, my legs were ready for something with more elevation. Flat races are harder on certain parts of my body — the constant positional effort, the sprinting. Give me a sustained climb and I know where I am. Italy gave me plenty of those.
The Ventum in Its Element
I’ll say this plainly: the Ventum is a proper bike. On the technical descents through the vineyards, confidence in the bike matters as much as fitness — maybe more. I was pushing hard on sections where I could feel the surface changing underfoot, and the bike just did its job. That’s not nothing. In 2024, I was dealing with pelvic fractures and the idea of pushing hard on technical terrain felt a long way off. At The Hills, it felt completely natural.
OGT had the nutrition dialled for a single long day at this kind of intensity. The pacing plan Jacob and I had mapped out beforehand held up. I crossed the finish line at Borgoluce tired in the right way — everything spent, nothing wasted.
Five Weeks, Three Countries, Building Toward Something
Three races complete. Each one has added something different to the picture. Now a short recovery block, and then Sea Otter in California. My first race in the United States. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about that.
Supported by Merlin Cycles, Ventum Racing, OGT, Gravaa, and Questa Financial Planning. Coached by Jacob Tipper at JT Performance Coaching.