“Like a big-city marathon, a typical gravel race is both an √©lite contest and, at the rear, something less pressing. Gravel evangelists sometimes like to compare this mix to a mullet haircut: “Business at the front, party at the back.” Emporia, a low-rise college town, had been filling with video crews and podcasters. Banners printed with the muddy faces of past winners hung from street lamps. The manufacturers of rival anti-chafing creams had set up stands.” In The New Yorker, Ian Parker takes you into the increasingly popular world of gravel racing. A Murder Roils the Cycling World. (And you thought things got heated in Pickleball…)