Besty Welch, America's OG Gravel Journalist, on Watching Gravel Grow Up Then Finding Herself on the Outside

Betsy Welch spent five years covering gravel cycling from the inside with VeloNews & Outside Online. We chatted with Betsy to get her perspective on gravel’s evolution, from grassroots culture to global attention, and what it’s been like to step away just as the sport reaches new heights. It’s a look at how cycling grows, what stories get told, and what happens when the industry moves on.

Follow along with Betsy on Instagram and her Substack.

Before her role at VeloNews came to an unexpected end in February of 2025, Betsy Welch has become one of the most recognizable voices covering the gravel scene. For five years at VeloNews (and later Outside) Betsy Welch carved out a unique space in cycling media. She didn’t just report from the sidelines, she showed up on the start line. As gravel has been evolving from grassroots oddity to global discipline with pro contracts and prize purses, Betsy has been there, writing profiles, chasing storylines, and covering the culture as well as the competition. Her journalism brought humanity to a sport often defined by watts and results, reminding readers why gravel mattered in the first place.

Sure, gravel culture has been around a while. Yes it's been surging for many years and getting itself into trouble long before Betsy Welch started covering it. But she was on the ground reporting before the Life Time Grand Prix, before the UCI did their number on formalizing the pointy end with the Gravel World Series, and before aero bars were banned, start waves were split, and five figure prize purses were normal.

Earlier this spring, Betsy was part of a round of layoffs at Outside, just as gravel’s momentum continues to surge. Her departure reflects a shifting media landscape, but the kind of storytelling she’s known for still resonates deeply with riders, race directors, and the community that built gravel from the ground up.

This isn’t a story about a journalist losing her job. It’s a story about a sport coming of age, and what that looks like through the eyes of someone who’s been embedded in it from the inside. This May, I got a chance to talk with Besty about her time at Outside and, and she shared a glimpse at how gravel has grown, shifted, and stretched, sometimes awkwardly, as it’s gone from underground curiosity to a sport with global attention.

Reporting From the Saddle

Unlike journalists covering the World Tour or other mainstream sports, Betsy didn’t just write from the sideline. Gravel, with its open fields and participatory nature, allowed her to be part of the stories she was telling.

Whether pedaling next to an everyday riders or being the first to catch wind of Stephen Fitzerald's crew from Rodeo Labs racing Unbound 200 on beach cruisers, her reporting and inside scoop often came from shared miles.

Being out there, not just observing but participating, gave Betsy a rare vantage point, to capture the present moment and to notice how the sport was changing.

Covering Migration Gravel Race

American Gravel, The Birth of International Growth

Gravel didn’t follow a traditional path to becoming a competitive sport. It emerged from a mix of regional traditions, DIY ethos, and the appeal of long, unsupported and unsponsored efforts on remote roads. From her vantage point embedded in that world, Betsy watched as the discipline evolved. Slowly at first, then all at once. What began as a loosely organized network of community-driven events grew into something far more structured: training plans, race calendars, sponsorships, and increasingly, athletes building full-time careers around it.

What stood out to her most was where it came from and how rarely that happens in cycling. “So rarely does cycling begin here in the states,” she said. “It sprung from the U.S., from the Midwest. And I think that’s such a cool origin story.” That distinctly American identity shaped everything from the types of roads to the attitude at the start line. As interest has grown overseas, international race organizers often looked to the U.S. not just for course inspiration, but for cultural cues as well.

Even as gravel took hold internationally, Betsy saw that origin story carry weight. “If you ask any European race promoter right now, they’re going to say they’re modeling their races on U.S. gravel,” she said.

And while the rise brought more attention, money, and structure, Betsy didn’t see it as the end of anything. If anything, she saw it as validation. “I do believe in that rising tide lifts all ships metaphor,” she said. “There are still grassroots races happening all around the country. If anything, they’ve been given more opportunity.”

Soul vs Sport

The evolution of elite gravel racing has brought undeniable changes to the sport. As more athletes commit full-time to gravel, backed by sponsors and structured race schedules, the front of the field has become faster, more specialized, and increasingly visible. That visibility, through media, livestreams, and social coverage, has pulled more focus toward the competitive side of gravel. It’s a shift that has sparked conversation, and at times tension, within the community about what gravel is and who it’s for.

Betsy with Kasia Niewiadoma after Big Sugar Gravel

To Betsy, it’s less a conflict and more a reflection of gravel’s growing complexity. “I just don’t believe it’s mutually exclusive. There can be a professional discipline and a grassroots sport,” she said. “They can all exist at the same time.” From her view, the rise of elite racing hasn’t erased gravel’s early culture, it’s just added another layer. Riders who want to chase podiums and points have a place. So do those who show up for the scenery, the community, or the challenge of finishing. Gravel may have grown up, but it hasn’t outgrown its range.

What Gets Covered & What Gets Left Out

Over the past few years, as gravel racing grew in both visibility and complexity, the scope of coverage grew with it. Betsy found herself balancing different kinds of stories: elite athlete profiles, mid-pack grinders, quirky one-offs, and everyday riders whose lives revolved around the bike in quieter but no less meaningful ways. Her editorial instinct was shaped as much by curiosity as by presence. Stories often surfaced not from press releases or podiums, but from conversations at aid stations or trailheads.

There was pressure, too. As the competitive side of gravel gained momentum, so did the expectation to focus on results, rankings, and recognizable names. “I did feel increasingly pressured to keep covering all the aspects of it,” Betsy said. While Velo was historically a racing-focused outlet, she remained drawn to the full spectrum of experiences that define gravel, not just the fastest riders, but the ones with surprising backstories or a deep connection to the sport that had nothing to do with winning.

What's Next for Betsy?

Betsy’s recent layoff wasn’t entirely unexpected. She’d seen multiple rounds of cuts over her five years at VeloNews and Outside, and knew the volatility of both the media world and the bike industry. Still, stepping away from a role that had become a part of her identity left space, both creatively and personally, that she’s now figuring out how to fill. “I’m just trying to take some time,” she said. “I don’t feel a ton of urgency. I just feel a sense of wanting to step back and see what feels right.”

Betsy continues to write, sometimes for brands, sometimes for regional outlets like The Colorado Sun, and sometimes simply to follow her own curiosity. She’s interested in telling cycling stories outside the traditional bubble, and in saying yes to work that wasn’t possible when she was tied to a full-time beat.

Riding around Aspen, Colorado

She’s not stepping away from storytelling, just finding new places to tell it. Whether inside the cycling world or beyond it, Betsy remains drawn to the kind of stories that linger longer than a headline.

For now, she’s choosing to pause, listen, and ride without a deadline. After years of chasing race weekends and fast-moving news cycles, there’s a kind of freedom in letting the rhythm reset. And in a sport that still values the long way around, that might be exactly the right pace.