Just Can't Stop - Ted King talks about Gravels undeniable pull to keep going!
- James Ion
- Apr 22
- 4 min read
Words James Ion - Photography provided by: Gretchin Powers - Tilly Shull - James Busby
Post-Peloton Life in Vermont
Ted King doesn’t do things by halves. Not when it comes to cycling, not when it comes to maple syrup, and certainly not when it comes to living a life that blends the soul of adventure with the heart of a family man.
We talk on a spring morning—me in sunlit Germany, Ted in thawing Vermont, the last dusting of snow retreating into the hills. He laughs when I ask how he’s doing.
“We had snow on the ground up until this morning,” he says. “But spring is spring, right? It’s expected. I’m doing well. Family’s good. I’m healthy. Can’t complain.” There’s something poetic in the way he describes his return to Vermont, the same hills that raised him now keeping him grounded.
“I was born and raised here in New England. After my road career, I moved to California, met my wife, and convinced her to come back east. That was 2018. At the time, I thought my gravel career was winding down… turns out, those were still the early years.”
Just Can’t Stop
If there’s a theme running through Ted King’s life, it’s motion. He talks about retirement the way most people talk about bad weather—inevitable, but never quite here yet. “I struggle with how I’m supposed to end,” he says. “I was just recently elected into the Gravel Hall of Fame, and someone had previously told me, ‘Ted, you’re never going to get in as long as you’re still racing.’ And I thought, well… I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.”
There’s no grand master plan. Just a rhythm that keeps pulling him back to the start line.
“I love racing. I love riding. And I feel lucky I get to do what I set out to do back in 2016: some racing, working with sponsors, product development, and being involved in this industry that I love. But also just—being there.”
It’s more than the thrill of speed. It’s the shape of his life. His people. His company. His community. “My friends are in this space. It’s where I catch up with people. It’s where I feel at home.”
Gravel Evolution
Ted’s seen gravel rise from dusty fringes to global spectacle. “You’d really call it the early era of modern gravel racing back then,” he says of his early days after road racing.
“But now? You’ve got thousands lining up. WorldTour riders are switching over. Full factory support.”
Does it still hold onto its roots?
“Sure. There’s always that spirit-of-gravel conversation, that DIY, ride-your-own-ride vibe. But there’s also this growing professionalism. In North America, it’s still got this huge fun factor. Of course, you look at the front of the peloton, and it quickly becomes very serious. Contracts, teams, the works.”
And Europe?
“My impression is that it feels more race-oriented. A lot more riders are jumping ship from the WorldTour. Its birth in Europe is as a professionalised sport. But you’ve got to show up prepared. No beer the night before these days—not if you want to be sharp.”
Familyman. Businessman.
Ted isn’t just a rider. He’s a dad. A husband. A co-founder of Untapped, the Vermont-based
Sports Nutrition company, he helped build out of a love for maple syrup and the realisation that it was more than just pancake fuel. “People used to bring me little bottles of syrup when I was racing in Europe. I loved it. One day, I thought—why not use this on the bike? It’s one ingredient. It’s natural. And it works.”
Untapped was born from that idea.
“I’m not the CEO. I co-founded UnTapped, I help grow it, and I’m naturally an ambassador for the company. And now I get to represent it—on and off the bike.”
Balance, he says, is a daily puzzle. “My wife races too. We’ve got two kids—two and five. It’s busy. But I’m lucky. Training’s never a question. It’s part of the job. The hard part is everything around it.”
Unpacked
This year, Ted took his bike and spirit to Rwanda for one of the most challenging and beautiful experiences of his life.“I did the Race Around Rwanda. A thousand kilometres. Self-supported. Completely wild. And yes, he won. But that wasn’t the point.
“It was about being there. Seeing the land. The people. The way bikes are part of everyday life. I’m cursing the hills on a 35-pound bike, and there’s a local beside me with 500 bananas on his back. And he’s keeping pace.”
These days, he’s leaning into ultras—not to win, but to explore. “I’m not doing a full calendar of ultras. That’s too much with a young family. But a few? Absolutely. They take you out of your comfort zone. I like that not all the time, but I do like the feeling of having my home comforts denied.”
Beer Run
Beer still matters, too. Ted’s love for Vermont beer is almost as strong as his affection for maple syrup, but don’t expect a Ted King IPA anytime soon. “It’s a saturated market,” he laughs. “But yeah, I still celebrate with a beer. Just not always the night before anymore.”
Advice
What would he say to someone dreaming of their first 150km race?
“There’s no such thing as too much zone two,” he says. “Ride your bike. A lot. If you’ve got 30 minutes, find an hour. And if you can follow a plan, even better.”
Ted’s been coached, self-coached, and back again.“I like structure. I love just riding. But there’s something about chasing a goal, ticking off those training days, knowing you’re building toward something.”
The Future of Gravel
Where is gravel going?“More teams. More support. More serious,” Ted says.“It’s going to be an arms race. You don’t show up with a mechanic or a soigneur, and you’re behind already. That makes me a little sad. I love the privateer nature of it. But there’s room for both.”
And will he still be racing? “I’ll probably still have a number on my bike, maybe not in the pro category. But I’ll be out there.
Like Geoff Kabush says—‘Keep racing until the fun stops.’”
Ted King isn’t just still racing. He’s still discovering. Still building. Still writing his own rules.
And as far as gravel goes, we’re all just lucky to be riding along, adding to its story
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