The Col du Galibier is a place of ghosts and giants. At 2,642m, the air is thin and the history is rich. Tales of epic triumphs of legendary riders, from Emile Georget to Fausto Coppi to Eddy Merckx to Tadej Pogačar. Its jagged beauty provides the perfect backdrop for a photoshoot.
In 2018, Deby Brunold stood on the road to the top, in full make-up, preparing to be photographed for a local bike shop calendar. She knew nothing about cameras, nor modeling, nor cycling in fact. But that was about to change.

She was there to pose, not to ride. But standing there, looking up at the tarmac as it wound up to the summit, she found herself really thinking deeply, about where the road led to and what it might take to get to the top.
“Do people actually cycle up here?” she asked. While the camera clicked, she made a silent vow. She would be back. From that moment, she was in love.
Before that, her life as a nurse and carer consisted of late nights, brutal shifts and the frantic energy of a city. Following a difficult breakup and a career pivot, she stopped smoking and threw herself headlong into it. She bought a mountain bike and found herself taking on exotic adventures and bold challenges.

Today, she is an Assos ambassador and a prominent voice in the cycling space. She has the chops to back it up, tackling some of the most demanding and visually striking routes in the world, supported by a brand that has played an important role in enabling those journeys.
She never had ambitions as an influencer, explaining that she rode bikes “as a kind of therapy, not to impress anyone”. Since starting cycling Deby has been active on Instagram documenting her cycling trips, but it was a bikepacking trip in the Pyrenees when one of her posts went viral. Realising she could make a living from it, she quit her job and became a full-time influencer.
Through her partnership with Assos, her horizon has expanded to Colombia, Morocco and Japan. Her philosophy, however, remains unchanged: “Not fast, just far.” It is a rejection of the “outcome-driven” mentality of racing in favour of the experience itself – the quiet roads, the early starts and the simple joy of being exactly where she wants to be.

When she speaks about the Nedbank Gravel Burn, “I first thought I’m not a ‘gravel girl’, not yet, but then I looked it up and OMG look at these pictures.”
To her it’s the simplicity that appeals. ”I think it would probably be quite a focused week – there won’t be a gym or many other things to do there,” she says. “But that’s the beauty of it. Even though I wouldn’t participate competitively, I would join simply for the joy of riding.”
It is a week where each day begins on the bike and ends in a Burn Camp – a custom-built race village, where the entire field and crew gather again. Out in the Karoo, the landscape feels wider, more open, and more exposed than what she might be used to in Europe.

“I think that’s where both the challenge and the beauty come together,” she says. “The landscape is completely different from Europe, much more vast and remote. Riding through it day after day is not only a physical effort but also a mental one, because you have so much space and time to be with your own thoughts.”
By the end of each day, that shared experience draws riders back together.
“I think it’s the combination of sharing and community,” she says. “After a long day riding in such a remote place, having good food, a place to recover, and people to enjoy the experience with because they did the same sounds really special to me.”

The ride takes something out of you, and the Burn Camps give something back in return. For Deby, that balance is where the meaning sits, in the time spent alone on the bike and in the moments that follow when the experience is shared with others who understand it.
For Deby, still today, the essence of every ride can be traced back to that afternoon on the Galibier, looking at a road to the top she had never ridden, and wondering what it would feel like to get there under her own power.