The episode in detail
Mathilda Buzaré has been doing ultra-cycling for several years. An entrepreneur for the past two years, she launched Upcomi, a media outlet and an app that connect cyclists with the groups and events that reflect them. Her aim: more women at the start of bike events. On long-distance events, women make up 10% of registered riders on average, she says.
What ultra-cycling covers
There is no universal definition: everyone has their own. For Mathilda Buzaré, ultra starts at 200 km a day, over several days, sometimes with nights spent on the bike. Others set the threshold at 300 km, or at the point where you ride through a whole night.
From a charity London-Paris ride to travelling by bike
Her first challenge dates back to 2019: a charity ride between London and Paris, organised every year by the company she worked for, with every kilometre raising money for a not-for-profit organisation. She rode 400 km in four days, with a feed stop every 30 km and the logistics taken care of. Many of the participants stayed on their bikes afterwards.
After Covid, a friend suggested the Vélodyssée, from Bordeaux to Nantes along the cycle route. She put panniers on a bike and discovered what would become her way of riding: travelling and discovering regions by bike.
“I told myself, there it is, absolute freedom, I want to do this pretty much all my life.”
In Paris, she then joined the Girls on Wheels collective, with whom she rode every Wednesday evening in sessions reserved for women and gender minorities. There she met women she used to see on Instagram, whose crazy challenges inspired her. They are the ones who led her towards long distance.
A hurricane, ferries at a standstill and a night on a sailing boat
Her best ultra-cycling memory comes from the Nomadian Rhapsobike, a race of more than 2,000 km from the banks of the Loire to the Isle of Skye, in Scotland, with ferries to catch. During the event, the tail end of a hurricane reached Scotland and brought every ferry to a standstill. She found herself stuck on an island where no hotel had a room left.
At the harbour master’s office, where she went to dry her clothes and take a shower, she met some French people travelling on a large sailing boat, who invited her to sleep on board, out at sea. The next morning, the small shuttle boat taking her back to the harbour master’s office had to be bailed out, having filled with water during the night. Her bike, for its part, had slept there.
“I think that is also what I look for in ultra: how I cope in that kind of situation.”
Handling these setbacks, including an allergic reaction and a broken derailleur cable, is what makes her best memories. Ultra, she says, makes you very attentive to yourself and to others.
Desertus Bikus, the ultra-cycling race she recommends for starting out
To a woman who would like to take the plunge, Mathilda Buzaré recommends the Desertus Bikus, which crosses Spain every year. Pioneers in women’s participation, its organisers have reached 40% women among registered riders, she says, when the norm is around 10%. Before the start, they run a WhatsApp group and webinars, and keep a registration link reserved for women open for longer.
On the race itself, the very mixed-gender field changes the atmosphere, and she has made many friends there. Another argument is safety: in Spain, drivers leave a lot of distance when they overtake cyclists.
That 40% comes from long-term work, done in particular thanks to Anaïs and Camille, from the Girls on Wheels community. They talked with the women who wanted to register and with the organisers, to obtain that separate link. The link then went round from woman to woman.
Why women take longer to register
The link that stays open longer responds to an observation: women take more time to decide. The reasons are logistical first of all, as women more often carry the load of organising family life, especially when there are children. A woman also takes longer to tell herself she is capable: faced with a 1,000 km event, a cyclist who has completed a 300 km ride will tell herself she still has to ride several more back to back.
“There is over-preparation, which actually shows in the results. Drop-out rates are higher among men than among women, because at the time of registration, a woman is generally readier than a man.”
For 2030, she would already be very happy with a 40% share of women reached across all events, and she hopes to see women in the top 10s and in the leading places.
Upcomi, from collectives to event organisers
Upcomi’s first tool, created in 2024, is a map of cycling collectives in France, in particular those whose rides are reserved for women and gender minorities. For her, finding a group comes before choosing a race, because you need to be able to train and get advice. And before telling yourself an event is made for you, you have to feel you have a right to be there.
Upcomi then lists events and identifies those working towards gender balance. Among the questions always put to the organisers Upcomi promotes on Instagram: what are you doing to get more women at the start? Many have ideas without always knowing what to do in practice, hence the guide.
Gender comes first; she then wants to address disability and the issue of racialised people. Women make up half the population, and attracting them is a question of growth for events, brands and regions. Since organisers want to fill their events, she talks of a virtuous circle. There is still a lot of educating to do. Next steps: a programme funded with brands to help organisers and a large study on the barriers to registration.
The 100-action guide, before, during and after the event
The guide, offered on Upcomi’s website, lists the initiatives the team has identified, in three stages. Before the event, the work is on representation. Warlike vocabulary cannot be the only story: for a beginner, telling herself ‘I am going to have to perform’ is a big barrier to entry. Photos matter too.
“Not having photos of women on event websites is a big bias that stops us from picturing ourselves there.”
The other quick win lies in registration: quotas, with 50% of tickets reserved for women, a link that stays open longer, a discount or duo places, since people register more readily in pairs for a first event. The guide also recommends working with local collectives, who will recommend the event if they get on with the organiser.
During the event, logistics matter, starting with toilets: at trail running events, where the guide also applies, some organisers have identified them along the whole course. Period products made available make a difference. Another avenue is a code of conduct signed by everyone, against gestures that are meant to be friendly and become intrusive, such as taking the wheel out of the hands of a cyclist who is repairing her inner tube.
After the event, what remains is to collect feedback from the women who took part and fix what can be fixed: an inclusive event is not built in one go, and women who enjoyed a race recommend it to others.
Bivouacking, mechanics and bike commuting: overcoming fears step by step
Two fears come up before a first long-distance event. Bivouacking can be a very big obstacle, for women in particular, whereas ultra does not require you to bivouac. For mechanics, she recommends workshops that offer sessions reserved for women and gender minorities to learn how to repair your bike. Group events with partial self-support also help: once you have tried bivouacking with others, you see that not much happens.
The collective plays the same role for bike commuting. Mathilda Buzaré had never ridden in Paris and was very afraid of it. Riding in a group with Girls on Wheels in such a dense city gave her a sense of strength and helped her reclaim public space, then take up bike commuting. She also links women’s participation in bike commuting to cycling infrastructure: cities with more cycle tracks have more women taking the plunge.
To a woman who is hesitating, she recommends being lenient with herself, putting the risks into perspective, joining a collective near her home, trying buddy bike commuting and learning mechanics in a self-repair workshop. To women bike commuters tempted by long distance, she suggests a simple first step.
“Go for it, buy some panniers and head off on a micro-adventure right next to where you live.”
