Unbound Stories: Kristi Mohn

Words James Ion - Photography provided by Life Time Grand Prix

Credit: Gravel Hall of Fame

Emporia, Kansas. A town nestled in the heart of the Flint Hills, where four generations of Kristi Mohn's family have graduated from the local high school. It is home in every sense of the word.

And yet, once a year, it transforms. Vans roll in, streets buzz, and the population swells as thousands descend for one of the world’s most revered gravel races: Unbound Gravel powered by Shimano!

Kristi Mohn remembers the beginning. Her husband was one of the original 34 riders who lined up at the inaugural Dirty Kanza in 2006. A year later, she found herself with her twin children at an aid station, watching riders come through. She was already working in community development, looking for ways to draw people to Emporia, but instead of searching for something new, she saw an opportunity to nurture something already taking root.

"Rather than bringing in outside events," she says, "I wanted to work with what was already happening here and help elevate it." In 2008, she began encouraging the race founders, Jim Cummins and Joel Dyke, to move the event downtown. By 2010, they did just that.

At the time, Commercial Street was 60% vacant and not a single restaurant was open there. Today, it's a different picture: thriving businesses, multiple bike shops, cafes, and bars, all fed by the culture that Unbound helped cultivate.

From 34 riders to over 5,000. From a modest local race to a global pilgrimage for gravel cyclists. But beyond the start lists and finish line photos lies something deeper: a town reshaped, not just economically, but culturally.

"Emporia isn’t on a major highway," Kristi says, "but it's a hub. From Lincoln to Bentonville, cyclists converge here because within five minutes of leaving your door, you're on some of the best gravel roads in the world." And they come not just for the race weekend. Spring training camps, tune-up events like the Flint Hills Gravel Ride, and the gravel stage race La Grind all bring in visitors year-round.

Emporia's transformation hasn't been without its friction. Kristi doesn’t shy away from the inconvenience, "the town doubles in size that weekend," she laughs—but the overwhelming response is pride. "Of course, there are naysayers, some farmers who are annoyed by traffic or locals put off by the sprinter vans crowding the streets. But for the most part, there's ownership. Families open their homes to racers. Kids ride in the crits. Volunteers come back year after year, inspired not only by the athletes but by the spirit of community."

And that community pride is contagious. The race helped weather economic downturns, even surviving the COVID-19 cancellation. It supports local fundraisers, provides scholarships through dorm partnerships with the university, and keeps businesses afloat during the quiet summer months when students leave town.

The cultural impact is just as tangible. Locals meet riders from Denmark to South Africa. The finish line becomes a borderless space of shared sweat and triumph. Kristi tells of a friend who once stood on the sidelines, cheering. Now she’s completed the 200-miler five times and is lining up for the XL. “That moment at the finish line changed her life.”

Even the race’s name change, from Dirty Kanza to Unbound, reflects the evolving relationship between the event and the people it touches. After speaking with the local Kaw Nation, whose ancestral lands included parts of Kansas, Kristi and the team agreed: respect matters.

Unbound doesn’t touch the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, bikes aren’t allowed, but the environmental impact is closely considered. Each year, the cleanup crew doesn’t just collect race debris; they haul out tires, old furniture, and waste discarded long before race day. “We leave it better than we found it.”

Perhaps that’s the most enduring legacy of Unbound is its symbiosis with Emporia. The culture of Emporians is to work together, to help improve not just themselves but each other. Community runs deep there, and this is evident in the pride they feel in "their" race.

But it's not just a race. It’s the chance for riders to look up at the Flint Hills and feel the vastness, the green rolling like waves. Kristi calls it the Kansas ocean. "I hope," she says, "that people take a second during their race to look around. To really see what this place is."

For Kristi and the community she speaks for, Unbound isn't just an event. It's a mirror, reflecting the best of who they are: hardworking, welcoming, resilient, and bound, only in the best ways, to a place they’re proud to call home.