Nobody Expected A WRC Title Fight To Turn Saudi Arabia Into The World’s Wildest Road Trip
Elfyn Evans is chasing history in the World Rally Championship right now, taking a three‑point lead into the season finale on the desert stages of Saudi Arabia. For rally fans, this isn’t just another motorsport headline—it’s an invitation. The same dusty tracks, canyon-cut roads, and mountain passes that will decide whether Evans becomes only the third British WRC champion are also real places you can explore, with a tank of fuel, a bit of nerve, and a love for the unknown.
As the WRC circus heads to Saudi Arabia to “put rallying back on the map,” it’s also quietly putting a very different kind of adventure travel on the map too: self‑drive expeditions, gravel-road journeys, and off‑the‑grid exploration that follow the spirit of the sport, not just the race calendar. Think: less podium champagne, more campfire coffee under impossible stars.
Inspired by this year’s title showdown, here are five WRC‑flavored adventure trips that feel like you’ve stepped onto a special stage—without needing a race license.
Chasing Rally Dust In Saudi Arabia’s Desert Highlands
Right now, all eyes in rallying are on Saudi Arabia. Elfyn Evans’ title hopes will be decided on dirt roads that twist through ochre canyons, wind-scoured plateaus, and open desert that looks like someone forgot to turn off the “epic” setting. The WRC finale is more than a sporting event; it’s a real‑time map of where your next adventure could be.
Base yourself in AlUla or around the Red Sea coast and you’re only a few hours’ drive from landscapes that echo the rally stages: graded gravel roads slicing through valleys, lonely fuel stations doubling as social hubs, and tiny villages where tea appears the moment you stop. You don’t need a rally car—just a reliable 4x4, local guidance, and respect for the terrain. Drive early and late for softer light and cooler air; save the midday heat for shaded wadis, long lunches, or exploring rock art sites older than written history. As the WRC teams race the clock, you’ll be racing the sunset, trying to find that perfect ridge to watch the sky turn molten over the dunes.
How To Turn A Mountain Pass Into Your Own Tarmac Special Stage (Legally)
Evans’ title push isn’t just about Saudi sand—it’s built on a season of precision on tarmac rallies from Europe to the Middle East. You can borrow that sensation without breaking any speed limits. The trick is not going faster, but going *smarter*: choosing roads where every curve feels like choreography.
Head to places like the Italian Dolomites, northern Spain’s Picos de Europa, or Saudi’s Asir Mountains near Abha. Pick a quiet weekday morning, start before sunrise, and treat the road like a moving meditation: no music, just engine note, wind, and the rise‑and‑fall rhythm of the corners. Pull over often—not because you have to, but because the views demand it. Watch locals in tiny hatchbacks thread the same bends with the casual confidence of world champions; they’ll wave you past, or up to the roadside café where tiny coffees and huge stories are served in equal measure. By the time you descend, you haven’t “driven hard”—you’ve driven *awake*, and the road feels like a character you’ve just met properly for the first time.
Gravel, Cows, And Wrong Turns: A DIY Rally Day In Rural Europe
Every WRC broadcast makes gravel stages look like remote fantasy worlds, but many of those roads sit just beyond ordinary villages, farms, and forests. If you’ve ever watched onboard footage from a rally car and thought, “I wish I could do that,” the answer is: not the speed, but the setting is within reach.
Try this in rural Portugal, the Baltic states, or the Balkans. Rent a sensible car, turn off the main highway, and commit to a day where your only rule is: avoid big roads unless you’re lost. Gravel lanes appear, vanish, and reappear as local connectors between farms and villages; you’ll meet more goats and tractors than tourists. The navigation feels like a low‑stakes version of a co‑driver’s job: “Do we trust this tiny line on the map? Did that sign really say ‘no through road’?” Sometimes you’ll backtrack. Sometimes you’ll hit a dead end and end up sharing biscuits with a farmer who insists you taste his homemade cheese. The day ends not with a finish line, but with muddy wheel arches, a cluttered camera roll, and the very specific satisfaction of having “recce’d” a slice of countryside most people blow past at 120 km/h on the motorway.
Desert Bivouac Dreams On A WRC Weekend
With the Saudi finale, the WRC joins a broader trend: big rally‑raid and off‑road events turning the Arabian Peninsula into the spiritual home of modern desert endurance. You can’t join the service park, but you *can* steal the overnight magic that drivers talk about—the feeling of being a tiny, temporary human camp in a massive, indifferent landscape.
Find a licensed local operator who offers guided self‑drive or overland trips; look for those who talk about conservation and culture, not just horsepower. You’ll convoy out from a coastal city like Jeddah or Yanbu, air down your tires at the edge of the dunes, and watch as city skylines fade into ripples of sand and stone. By mid‑afternoon, you’ll be setting up camp: a ring of vehicles, a carpet on the ground, a pot of cardamom coffee on the coals. Long after the WRC cars have been tucked into their team tents, you’ll still be lying on your back in the sand, counting shooting stars and listening to your guide tell stories of old caravan routes that crossed the same emptiness centuries before any timing beams and TV helicopters showed up.
The Co‑Driver Mindset That Makes Any Adventure Trip Better
Evans’ championship push is built on something that never trends on social media: teamwork with his co‑driver. That quiet voice calling out pace notes at 160 km/h is invisible to TV audiences, but vital to survival. Adventure travel has its own version of that co‑driver energy, and learning it can turn a risky trip into a revelatory one.
Before you hit any wild road—whether it’s a Saudi gravel track, an Alpine pass, or a forest lane in Eastern Europe—choose who’s on “notes” duty. One person drives, the other leads: watching the map, scanning for fuel stops, spotting tiny viewpoints the algorithm never told you about. You’re not a passenger; you’re navigating both the route and the mood. When something goes wrong—and it will—you’re the one who says, “OK, here’s plan B.” On a week‑long road trip, swap roles; you’ll start to appreciate both the focus of driving and the broader perspective of guiding. It’s a small mindset shift, but it’s what turns a string of pretty places into a shared story with chapters, callbacks, and inside jokes you’ll be quoting years later.
Conclusion
As the WRC title fight heads into the Saudi desert and “puts rallying back on the map,” it’s quietly sketching out a blueprint for your next adventure trip. You don’t need a race suit, a factory contract, or Elfyn Evans’ car control. You just need the courage to trade neat itineraries for winding roads, to swap resort pools for dusty fuel stops, and to treat maps less like orders and more like invitations.
The stages deciding this year’s championship are unfolding right now—but the landscapes they showcase will still be there when the TV cameras move on. When they do, the road is yours.