Between Road and Gravel: The Balance of Petr Vakoč

Words by James Ion - Photography is individually credited.

From the chaos of the World Tour to the freedom of gravel, Petr Vakoč has lived in both worlds. In conversation with PRO Gravel, he reflects on the meaning of victory, the growing divide between gravel series, and why the Lifetime Grand Prix might have to wait.

Petr Vakoč is balancing freedom and professionalism in the gravel scene. Credit: Virg Govignon

When I speak with Petr Vakoč, there’s no grandiosity, no sense of someone clinging to the faded glamour of the World Tour. Instead, there’s a calm intensity, the kind you find in someone who has walked through the fire already and emerged with a clearer sense of what matters. On the road, he tells me, victories felt like realising a childhood dream.

“Winning there was about the whole team, the atmosphere, the dream you’ve had since you were a kid. Gravel is different. The wins are personal, but the satisfaction—it’s the same. It’s about doing my best, and when it works, the joy is no less.”

That duality runs like a seam through his story. The road demanded sacrifice, conformity, the collective machine. Gravel, by contrast, offers choice. You decide how much risk to take, whether to dance with the bunch or drift into the space where the only noise is the crunch of tires. And for Petr, the freedom is not a lesser echo of road cycling, but an entirely different dialect of joy.

I ask him how he sees the patchwork of series that now define the discipline—the UCI’s attempt at standardisation, the Gravel Earth Series’ curated experiences, and the American juggernaut of the Lifetime Grand Prix. His answer is measured but pointed.

Scotland to Spain: testing the full spectrum of gravel racing. Credit: The Gralloch Gravel Race

“The UCI series has no real standard. Every race is different. Some, like The Gralloch in Scotland, were super well-organised with beautiful courses, a great atmosphere. Others were messy—just a circuit with nothing around it. You’d finish, and it felt like… that was it. And in Austria, it was more like a road race—laps, non-technical, ending in a sketchy downhill sprint. Too much variety, and not always in a good way.”

Against that, the Gravel Earth Series feels curated, even thoughtful. “There’s a really good standard,” he says. “The right distance, a proper balance of gravel and road, and always well organised. The Traka is amazing. Even newer ones, like The Hills in Italy, were super well done. They feel like an experience, not just a competition—whether you’re a pro or just riding for fun.”

His words remind me that gravel, at its heart, is about the shared experience as much as it is about the front of the race. The best events crown a winner, but they also give the rider at the back a reason to come back.

And then there is Lifetime. In America, gravel is more than a discipline—it’s a stage show, a festival, a cultural force. “The races are massive—Unbound, Leadville, Sea Otter,” Petr says.

“The atmosphere, the expo, the crowds. That feels closest to a big road race, with media attention and the whole show. Americans really know how to create that. Leadville wasn’t the most exciting course, but the experience was still really special because of the scale and the people involved.”

“Americans really know how to create that. Leadville wasn’t the most exciting course, but the experience was still really special.”

But there is a catch, and for Petr it is decisive. He is European. His season is built on a rhythm that echoes road cycling: peak in the spring for Traka and Unbound, recover, then rise again for autumn targets.

“The Americans can spend months preparing for each race, training at altitude, tailoring their season. For me, based in Europe, it’s almost impossible to combine Lifetime with other series. The ‘all-in’ approach doesn’t work here. I prefer to structure my year like a road calendar. That rhythm suits me.”

That rhythm was tested when he applied for a Lifetime wildcard. Last year, bad luck ruled him out—punctures at Unbound, a broken rim at Leadville. This year, he thought he might try again.

“I applied for the series, thinking I’d give it another go. I didn’t expect not to get selected, honestly. But by November, I had already committed to The Rift, Iceland and other races in Europe. You have to plan early enough, and I was left in a situation where I had to make definitive decisions, which the wild card didn't allow”

Season planning is the invisible scaffolding of a professional rider’s life, and for Petr, that scaffolding is built months ahead. “You only find out in June if you get a wildcard,” he says. “By then, I’ve already booked flights, accommodation, and trips. Living in Europe, I can’t just switch everything at the last minute. The wildcard system doesn’t really work for Europeans. It only makes sense if you’re based in the US or fully committed there.”

Balancing a European calendar with global ambitions. Credit: Roger Salanova and Gravel Earth Series

This is the quiet fracture line in global gravel.

On one side, the Lifetime model: commitment, locked rosters, and total focus. On the other hand, the European style: peaks and valleys, recovery blocks, freedom to ride across series.

Petr sits firmly in the latter camp. “If Unbound had gone perfectly, maybe I’d have changed direction,” he admits. “But it didn’t. And it became clear I couldn’t balance it.”

So will he apply again? He nods. “I’d like to do Lifetime properly one day, but maybe not next year. The Worlds are in Australia, which should suit me, and that’s a big target. Lifetime might make more sense the year after.”

In the meantime, his goals are clear. “Next up is the UCI race Monsterrando in Italy, then Nationals. The course isn’t ideal for me—more like a criterium—but I’ll try to win (It turned out the course ended up much more suitable for him and he actually did win! - Ed). I’m second in both the UCI series and Gravel Earth Series, so I want to finish as high as possible. And then there’s Worlds. At first, I thought it would be a perfect course for me as it is in a hilly area of the Amstel Gold race, one of my favourite road races. But in the end, it seems there will not be that many climbs. Either way, it’s a huge goal.”

His voice sharpens with anticipation when Worlds comes up. “Last year’s Worlds atmosphere was incredible. It felt like a Monument. This year should be just as big, and hopefully the course will make it exciting.”

“Last year’s Worlds atmosphere was incredible—it felt like a Monument.”

I think about that for a moment. Gravel has resisted codification, resisted the rigid arcs that define road cycling. And yet here is a rider who thrives on those arcs, who still sees the value in building toward one peak day. Perhaps gravel’s future lies not in choosing between freedom and structure, but in holding both at once—an elastic discipline that can stretch to fit a Petr Vakoč as well as the weekend rider who just wants a story to tell at the finish line.

As our conversation winds down, I thank him for his time. In the words he has given me, in the glimpse of a rider who straddles two worlds without apology. Road professionalism meets gravel freedom. Discipline meets joy. Prestige meets personal satisfaction.

And somewhere in between, in the messy middle, lies the real story of gravel today.

Vakoč: still chasing joy, in whatever form it comes. Credit: Roger Salanova and Gravel Earth Series