Julien Gravaud and Simon Taulelle’s partnership is built on racing hard, looking out for each other and never taking things too seriously. Based between Biarritz and Marseille, they first met in 2019 during an ultra-cycling event at 2,000 metres above sea level, in the middle of a storm named Miguel. While most people tried to avoid it, they pedalled straight into it. Somewhere between the gusts and the rain, a lifelong friendship was born.

Since then, they’ve raced across road, gravel and mountain biking, finding their stride in ultra-endurance. In 2026, they lined up for the inaugural Taurus Mountain Race, a 1,450-kilometre challenge through Turkey’s wild Taurus Mountains, with steep climbs, remote roads and high mountain plateaus ahead. After three and a half days and around 450 kilometres, just as they’d begun to find their rhythm, extreme weather and impassable mud forced the organisers to cancel the race. With the finish line no longer the objective, Simon and Julien found themselves with an unexpected opportunity to discover a different side of Turkey — and a new way to measure the adventure.

Julien: The pure call of adventure. Turkey had been on our radar for a long time—that dramatic crossroads between Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. Our aim there was to push the remoteness up a notch, take in some mind-blowing views, and survive to see more the day after. It was also our first time packing a tent, a stove, freeze-dried food, and—sacrilege or salvation?—instant coffee for a race. Turns out, we loved it a looooot ! 

Simon: Julien and I have a weak spot for inaugural editions; nothing beats the thrill of heading into the absolute unknown. Plus, what could be more beaver-like than pitching a shelter, brewing a little beaver broth, and smugly watching torrential rain hit the tarp?   

Julien: All while lounging in full beaver pajamas. The exact kind of evening that makes you slap your flat tail in pure satisfaction. 

Simon: The race was cancelled for weather and safety reasons. Two of the organisers' cars got stuck in the mud, and they had to rebuild the road around one of them to get it out. At that point, they couldn't guarantee the riders' safety anymore. CP2 became the official finish, and from there we could head straight to the coastal arrival.

Julien: The authorities were worried about people being up in the mountains in these conditions and we were asked to stay away from high altitude. And some riders did need rescuing — four from the top ten were pulled out by mountain rescue. Even riders who are used to extreme conditions admitted that going up there had been a questionable decision.

Simon: We were about 500 kilometers in out of 1,450. The first few days felt like a brawl, but we were finally hitting our stride. The gradients were pure comedy; my GPS screen flashed 33% at one point, which I'm pretty sure is technically rock climbing. We were also lugging too much food because we'd braced for absolute wasteland. To rub salt in the wound, we later found out we were sitting in the top five pairs—a podium was probably on the cards but we’ll never know. 

Julien: That’s the bitter pill: our diesel engine had literally just warmed up. We were itching to see the rest of the route, especially that 3,000-meter plateau—even if the forecast hinted the only view on offer would be the inside of a thick cloud. Let’s just say there’s definitely some unfinished business out there.

Simon: Honestly, I've never seen mud that sticky. You could have built a house with it. I grew up in Brittany, so I know a bit about mud, but this was something else. You'd think, “Great idea, let's cut through the field next to it,” and end up making bricks.

Julien: We literally manufactured bricks.

Simon: Absolutely. We had friends whose bikes were wrecked — bearings, freehubs, suspension, headsets. We left with two brand-new bikes, and they were a bit less new by the end.

We'd deliberately chosen a mechanical Shimano XTR drivetrain. At the back of beyond, if a derailleur fails, you're much more likely to find a replacement or a cable than a specific electronic component. It's about being able to fix things with what's available.

Simon: My derailleur broke almost at the same time as the cancellation announcement. I hadn't seen the notification, so I thought I was done for. We found a small village near the mountains, where I fitted an old Shimano derailleur and worked out the shifting using the cable adjuster.It got us through another 130km !  Then, ten meters from the “finish line”, as we were riding into the campsite, the chain snapped. I'd put four quick links in to lengthen it. 

Julien: But honestly, it was funny right to the end. At least we rode to the finish.

Simon: We fully respected the organisers' decision. It can't have been easy, and safety has to come first. Of course we'd have loved to ride the whole route, but once it was cancelled, we had to make the best of what we had.

Julien: For us, having fun is the objective number one. We want to ride, take photos and bring back memories for ourselves, our families and our friends — stories to tell, and muddy faces pictures to show at dinner when we get home.

We realised that for some people, when the race was cancelled, they couldn't have fun anymore. We understand the commitment that comes with people looking for performance, but it’s also such a privilege to be able to travel in places like this with your bike, that we did not understand all of the reactions. We're not all wired the same I guess. It's a shame to take your sport so seriously that you can't step back and enjoy the experience.

Simon: We'd have loved to ride further, but we didn't. Instead, we ate skewers and went to Turkish baths, and it was hilarious.

Julien: In the end, we had three and a half days of racing and three and a half days of holidays. As Justinas said, “School's cancelled” ! That being said, the feast and cultural festival could start ! 

We went to markets, watched concerts and found ourselves in Turkish baths we'd never tried before. We played tourists in our limited supply of already dirty clothes and tried to communicate with people using Google Translate.

Simon: We wouldn't have met all those people if the race hadn't been cancelled. If we'd spent eight days riding, we'd have had incredible memories of the route. But we wouldn't have spent those evenings talking about life with people from different villages or finding ourselves in all those funny situations.

Julien: I don't think it changes why we ride. We'd have loved to finish the route, and we still want to go back and see what we missed. But the result isn't everything. We were lucky to be outdoors, somewhere new, meeting people. Even when the race didn't go to plan, there was still a lot to enjoy.

Simon: Definitely. There's unfinished business, and we'd love to see the rest of the map. We found our rhythm just as the race ended, so we'd like another chance to find out what we could do.

But we came away with a lot more than we expected. The race was cut short; the adventure wasn't.