In 2012 I was in an Edinburgh pub with a mixture of couriers and bike polo players when one of them mentioned a bike race across Europe he planned to enter if only he could get the money together for his entry fee. Someone started collecting money nudging regulars at the bar and spinning them a story of great adventure. Before we left at the end of the night he had his entry fee.
Colin’s route was planned on paper maps on the train to start line in London. We spent the next couple of weeks watching a little dot push on into the night and take innumerable wrong turns, instantly hooked by being able to see exactly where he was while having no idea what he was doing.
I still kick myself for not realising then exactly how big this race was going to become. Not getting in earlier. But I also appreciate having seen the race from the outside, having found it in the same way as so many others and having experienced the race not just from the media car but through the images and stories it creates.
The TCR is an attempt to capture the romanticism around the early Tour de France, but almost instantly it created its own mythology. It will never again be the same race it was that first year when a group of riders came together on London bridge with no idea of what lay ahead.
Fortunately The Transcontinental Race has always been about change.
The adventure that was for most riders on their doorstep, through familiar terrain and neighbouring countries that became increasingly foreign. This year the direction was flipped. The predictability of French opening hours on a Sunday were replaced with a check points hosting Communist Party meetings and Balkan weddings. Gravel parcours may have eaten early on into supplies of inner tubes while the bike shops around Alp d’huez were well stocked to replace the inevitable brokens wheels and brake pads worn to the metal.
I like to think I share part of the experience with the riders. And while they can only experience their own ride, I can only shoot glimpses into a few of the thousands of stories that are created each year. The appeal for me is how "uncoverable" the race is. There will always be undocumented stories. Images that could have been if only there was some way to be everywhere at once.
I find it hard to write about the Transcontinental Race (TCR). It is many things to many people. It has changed from year to year and yet there is still a shared experience from those who rode the first race through to the latest. I had to pick a cover image for this story: how on earth do you do that? A single image that even comes close to encapsulating what the TCR is, or represents? The rider, the car, the old man collecting blueberries, the dog leg gravel climb ahead, the 80km of gravel behind, the wedding venue/Control Point (CP) 10km further on. Each element is a story in itself and this is repeated throughout the images of the race - and that is before considering the every moment and interaction where riders are on their own miles away from a photographer.
© 2026 James Robertson