Good money, no team tactics and cute dogs: the rise of pro cycling freelancers

For decades, professional cycling has been dominated by European World Tour teams. But in the last decade, American gravel privateers have disrupted that paradigm.

“The World Tour is like being in the NFL or NBA,” says Peter Stetina, who rode for three different teams on the tour, the highest tier of professional road cycling, from 2010 to 2019. “You get drafted and signed. You have a salary and your job is just to pedal, nothing else. Racing is cutthroat, resigning is cutthroat.”

In 2019, Stetina’s contract with Trek-Segafredo allowed him to take time away from the World Tour to try his hand at three American gravel races. He took advantage of the opportunity, winning the BWR and placing second at Unbound (then named Dirty Kanza), the most prestigious gravel race in the world. However, competing in these races strained his relationship with team brass, who wanted him to focus on racing in Europe.

“My managers weren’t happy, but the recognition I got was incredible,” says Stetina, who found himself at a crossroads. At the end of the season he chose to leave the World Tour and switch to gravel full-time, drawn to the agency over his career path and the financial opportunity it presented.

Gravel bike racing is anything off tarmac, including a wide gamut of distances and surfaces, from 200 miles on unpaved roads to a couple of dozen miles of singletrack. Gravel bikes look similar to their road cousins, with wider tires and relaxed geometries, making them easier to control on technical terrain.

In the last decade, gravel racing has exploded in the US, while road cycling has gone in the opposite direction. Since its zenith during the Armstrong era in the early 2000s, American cycling has been on a slow and steady decline, eroded by drug scandals and the rising danger of distracted car and truck drivers. With dwindling participation, marquee events like the Tour of California and Tour of Utah have shuttered. Abroad, there are just 15 Americans on the 18 World Tour teams, the lowest number since 2008.

With road riding in the doldrums, gravel has filled the void, galvanized by individuals like Stetina. These riders, known as privateers, essentially are one-person teams with the autonomy to pick their sponsors and schedule. The privateer model runs in stark contrast to the rigidity of the World Tour, in which team managers decide everything for riders, including team roles, races, and salaries.

Already on an upward trajectory in 2020, gravel has boomed in the years after the pandemic, because it offers an escape from everyday life and a safe way to get outside. Gravel bike sales doubled in 2020 and again in 2021. Three years on, gravel continues to grow at a rapid rate. Data from Strava shows gravel rides were up 55% in 2023, the fastest rise in activity on the app.

Over the same period, the sharp end of the sport has consolidated around the LifeTime Grand Prix, a seven-race series regarded as the premier offroad circuit in the world. The Grand Prix attracts a mix of riders and offers a $300,000 purse, split between the top 10 men and women. The elite field is a mix of ex-World Tour, cyclocross, and pro mountain bikers, as well as newcomers from the junior ranks.

While road and gravel bikes look similar, their cultures are radically different. Road is synonymous with Lycra, skinny tires, and deep tradition. The sport’s flagship events – the five Monuments and three Grand Tours – are steeped in European history. Gravel, on the other hand, is new, unorthodox, and exploratory, making it perfect for the US, a country where a quarter of the roads are unpaved and rarely trafficked.

“Road cycling is a tradition-bound sport,” says Payson McElveen, a two-time national mountain bike champion who sits third on the Grand Prix standings. “Everything runs through the World Tour teams, which have been doing the same things for decades, like how they market their athletes. Gravel races forbid team tactics, which opens the door for more creativity and storytelling.”

“As a privateer, I have the latitude to express myself and take on projects that I’m excited about,” says McElveen, who has cultivated a large community around his podcast, The Adventure Stache, as well as a series of adventure films with his major sponsors, including Red Bull. “Athletes are meant to inspire, which isn’t just on race day. Your passion and enthusiasm is a big part of your career.”

Privateering comes with a unique set of challenges though. Riders need to be organized, logistically savvy, and good relationship builders. Without a team manager, they must plan all their travel, manage social media, negotiate contracts, hire mechanics, and attend sponsor obligations, while keeping a rigorous training schedule.

“It’s a constant game of prioritization,” says Stetina, “and the biggest challenge is managing your time.” Juggling responsibilities isn’t for everyone, yet a growing number of riders are eschewing teams for the freedom that comes with privateering – and the opportunity to make more money.

“I’d be lying if I said compensation wasn’t a big part of it,” says McElveen, “there’s no ceiling to what you can make, unlike the World Tour.” McElveen estimates that around half of the 60 riders in the Grand Prix are privateers, with varying levels of success among them.

Alexey Vermeulen, who rode for LottoNL-Jumbo (now Visma-Lease a Bike) early in his career, now earns six figures as a privateer, considerably more than he did on the World Tour. At 15, Vermeulen moved to Europe to chase the dream of riding in the pro peleton. On track to become America’s next great general classification rider, he was let go in 2019 due to what he says were team politics. Instead of searching for a new World Tour team, Vermeulen pivoted to gravel.

Gravel racing often takes place on the vast array of unpaved roads in the US. Photograph: Andy Cochrane

In his first season, Vermeulen barely broke even, despite living rent free with his parents. “Getting in is a challenge. It’s a big bet on yourself,” says Vermeulen, who spent two seasons fighting for sponsorships from marquee brands. The risk paid off eventually, as Vermeulen placed second overall in both 2022 and 2023, and has had the same group of primary sponsors for the last four years.

“I miss the history and romance of the World Tour, but my personality is a better fit for privateering. I’m OCD about lists, I’m outgoing, and I’m good at telling a story” says Vermeulen, who thinks of himself as more of an entrepreneur than a bike racer. Winning races is only a part of the formula. “The biggest challenge is balancing films and projects with consistent training.”

Vermeulen produces a popular YouTube series starring his dog, Sir Willie the Wiener, riding on his back. Clips of Vermeulen and Willie have gone viral on social media, helping him – and his main sponsors – gain more visibility around the industry. “As a rider, you’re not just a billboard or a race result. It’s a collaboration between you and the brand to tell a real story.”

Sarah Sturm, a two-time Cyclocross National Champion, found early success when she switched to gravel racing. After her cyclocross team folded in 2018, she won her first race, the BWR. This win plus two other podiums in her first season put Sturm on a rapid ascent to gravel stardom.

“When I saw the amount of sponsorship offers that came in after the BWR win, I realized it was a different ballgame,” says Sturm. “The sport has grown a lot since then, but it’s still the wild west of bike racing. There is a lot of freedom and a lot of money, but you also have to manage it all by yourself.”

Sturm finished third overall in 2022 and fourth in 2023, but says that most of her personal brand was built off the bike. Using her background in marketing, she picked up the business side of privateering quickly and built an impressive roster of clients, making her one of the highest earning athletes in the sport.

“Unless you win every race by a mile, you need more than just results,” says Sturm. “Brands don’t care if you place second or fifth or 10th. What matters is your personality. You have to be good at selling yourself.”

Sturm has appeared in films, articles, panels, and at major events, which has made her one of the best known faces in the sport. This, she says, is what differentiates a successful privateer, estimating that about 15 riders on the Grand Prix have made substantial money going solo.

“I don’t have an agent because that doesn’t work for me,” says Sturm, who believes the constant emails and personal connections with brands pay off in the long run. “I’ve learned a lot from others like Pete, Payson, and Alexey. We all talk a lot behind the scenes, mostly about the business side of it.”

Despite appearing individualistic, almost every privateer has a large support network behind them. “The privateer model is new to cycling, but it’s been around in sports like golf and surfing for a long time,” says Hannah Otto, a Tokyo Olympian and Mountain Bike World Cup winner who spent nine years on various teams before becoming a privateer in 2022. “The real secret is having the right team behind you.”

“People would be shocked if they saw my taxes and knew how many people I hire just to race bikes,” says Otto, who pays a coach, sports psychologist, physio, nutritionist, agent, accountant, and mechanic to support her career. “This lets me focus on my strengths. For example, my agent does negotiations and invoicing, so I can focus on big ideas and creating value for my sponsors.”

After winning Leadville 100, one of the most prestigious offroad races in the US, Otto saw her earnings grow quickly. “Winning a big race changes the math,” Otto says. “I’m now making a lot more than I was on a factory team and feel more secure than ever. My salary is diversified across many brands, but if you’re on a team and they have a bad year, that has huge consequences.”

On a macro level, privateers are a perfect product-market fit with America. The European way of doing business doesn’t work in a country built around entrepreneurial, creative, and individual ethos. Until recently, American cycling lost the plot. Privateers reignited the country’s love of cycling.

“The world is watching American cycling closer than they have in decades,” says McElveen. “Even in Europe, riders are talking about the Grand Prix. Everyone knows about gravel and is curious to see if privateers will make an impact on other parts of the sport, like the World Tour.”