(Back in March of 2015, the Lake Atalanta Trail & Road Duathlon was one of those hidden gem events that brought runners, cyclists, and adventure seekers together for a perfect day on the trails. Now, a decade later, we can’t help but look back and miss this incredible race—the chilly morning start, the thrilling singletrack descents, and the post-race toasts with fellow racers. If you were there, you know the magic. And if you weren’t? Let us take you down memory lane to relive one of Arkansas’ most unforgettable multisport races. Let us know in the comments, what outdoor events or races that are no longer taking place that you miss?)
I was immediately intrigued when race director Tracy Byrd reached out earlier this year to ensure the Lake Atalanta Trail and Road Duathlon made it onto the calendar. I’d heard about the new mountain bike trails at Lake Atalanta in Rogers, Arkansas, and this felt like the perfect excuse to check them out. Since lingering Achilles tendon issues had me sidelined from running, I was glad to see the event allowed teams—perfect because Lisa loves to run.
We decided to turn it into a weekend getaway, inviting friends along for the ride and meeting others in Rogers for the race. The Everyman Race Series organizers allowed participants to pair a trail run with either road cycling or mountain biking. Naturally, I chose mountain biking—I wasn’t going to miss my chance to explore the new trails.
After an evening of local beer, great food, and catching up with friends, we headed to the hotel for an early night. With an early start ahead of us, we needed time to get our transition area set up before the race began.
Race Day: A Chilly Start
We arrived at the downtown parking lot near the Frisco Caboose, where racers were unloading bikes, checking tires, and organizing their gear. Even though the forecast promised highs in the 70s, the 40-degree morning chill made for a brisk wait before the start. A short but steep downhill ride in the dark took us to Lake Atalanta Park, where music filled the air and racers milled about, shaking off pre-race nerves as the sky slowly brightened.
Lisa and I set up our transition area, which was much easier as a team—she’d start with the first run, giving me a little extra time to get ready before my ride. Once the National Anthem played and pre-race instructions were given, solo racers and first-leg runners lined up at the lake’s edge.
As the race director gave the countdown, we were reminded to sprint off the start—the open distance before hitting the singletrack was short, meaning anyone caught behind a slower runner would have to wait for a good passing spot. Lisa managed to start alongside two of her regular weekend running partners, both racing solo.
The first run covered 3.46 miles, full of punchy hills with just enough flat spots to tease a little recovery time. The course wound along the lake’s edge, with sections where runners had to leave the wide, smooth path to tackle steep, rolling terrain—fun and fast but undeniably tough. As Lisa hit the final downhill, cheers from the transition area pulled her forward for a sprint finish.
My Turn on the Bike
Lisa flew into the transition, and as she swapped the timing chip onto my ankle, I grabbed my bike and ran across the transition area.
The trail started with an immediate climb—on what I like to call Ozark gravel. Not your typical gravel, but chunky, cat head-sized rocks that make traction a challenge. Near the top, I lost control and went down hard. Back on my feet in seconds, I ran the last bit of the hill before hopping back on.
The trail kept climbing, with short breaks in between, until I finally reached the top and got to enjoy the payoff—a fast descent with bermed turns, a bridge crossing, and a sharp drop into a hard left. From there, the trail smoothed out into rolling terrain with a few bridge crossings before spitting me onto a dirt road. A quick singletrack section led me back into transition, where I launched into my second lap.
Determined to clear that first climb, I dug in and passed one rider—then caught up to another near the top. Just as I was making the pass, he went down… and I went right over him. Another quick recovery, and I pushed hard to put some distance between myself and the two riders behind me. The second lap flew by, and soon I was dismounting back into transition, where Lisa grabbed the timing chip for her final run.
Lisa’s Final Push
While I was out on the bike, Lisa had been in transition, trying to keep her legs from stiffening up. The second run was shorter—2.8 miles—and intentionally less technical than the first, keeping most of the flat and fast sections while avoiding some of the steeper, punchier terrain.
I stood at the final downhill section to cheer Lisa in, and as she passed by with a wave and a smile, I knew she was ready to finish strong.
Post-Race Celebrations
Crossing the finish line earned us a custom pint glass and a bottle opener—a perfect setup for post-race celebrations. But first, we stuck around to cheer on friends and fellow racers as they came through the finish.
Eventually, I took a quick ride back up the hill to grab the truck and shuttle as many racers as I could back to the parking area. With pint glasses full of well-earned recovery beverages, we toasted to a great race, awesome trails, and even better company.
A quick stop for lunch at Iron Horse Coffee Co., and we were off—already planning our next adventure.
This article was originally published on ArkansasOutside.com, your trusted source for outdoor news and updates in The Natural State. Unless otherwise credited, all photos included in this piece are the property of Arkansas Outside, LLC. We take pride in sharing the beauty and adventures of Arkansas through our lens—thank you for supporting our work!
