The World’s Most Dangerous Race: Chasing a Rolling Wheel of Cheese Down a Steep Hill

Imagine racing after a giant wheel of cheese hurtling down a hill so steep it could make your head spin — and risking broken bones just to catch it. Welcome to the world’s most dangerous race, held every year in Brockworth, England.

The race is simple to explain but tough to survive: chase a 6.6-pound wheel of Double Gloucester cheese down Cooper’s Hill and cross the finish line before anyone else. Sounds fun, right? Well, the hill is so steep it almost feels like falling off a cliff, and many racers end up tumbling, bruised, or worse.

Chris Anderson, a local who holds the record with 23 wins since 2005, puts it plainly: “You’ve got to have zero regard for your own safety.” He broke his ankle celebrating his first victory but wasn’t deterred. The next year, he won again. On his third win, he crossed the finish line unconscious after hitting his head — a blur he barely remembers.

The race’s origins are mysterious. It was first documented in 1826, but might be much older — possibly starting as a pagan ritual to bless crops or as a way to test barrels, since a “cooper” is a barrel maker. Whatever the reason, locals cherish this tradition and fiercely protect it. Thanks to the internet, it’s become a global spectacle, drawing thousands of competitors from places as far as New Zealand, Egypt, and the United States.

But the real champions are the locals who know the hill best. Anderson recalls wild teenage days camping near the hill, “We used to get drunk and throw each other down.” The hill’s incline is insane — the first drop is nearly vertical at 60 degrees, with an average slope of 45 degrees. From the top, it looks more like a cliff than a hill. Many racers back out at the last second, intimidated by what they see.

“The first 10 meters feel like you’re diving headfirst,” Anderson says. “Once you start, you can’t stop. You just have to let momentum take over. If you fall, get up quickly and keep going.”

Soft ground helps, but dry, hard terrain makes for a faster and more dangerous run. Injuries are common — broken ankles, concussions, and even dislocated shoulders. Anderson once saw three broken ankles in a single race, including injuries severe enough to cause runners to miss flights home.

Watching the race is chaotic and wild. Videos show runners crashing, sliding on their bottoms, and flying down the hill in every possible position. Photos from the bottom look like spilled action figures — bodies upside down, arms flailing, legs flying.

One painful memory for Anderson was seeing a runner break his leg after his cleats got stuck, and the momentum pushed him forward. “It was pretty nasty,” Anderson admits.

Even champions pay a price. The 2023 women’s winner, Delaney Irving, was knocked out right before the finish line and only learned she’d won after waking up in the medical tent. Four-time women’s champ Flo Early still lives with a permanently disfigured shoulder from a collarbone injury sustained during a race.

Given the risks, some racers rely on a little liquid courage. The race used to start late at night when many were already drunk, but the start time was moved earlier. Anderson now sticks to just one beer on the walk up. “If you’re drunk and break something, painkillers don’t help much. I try to stay as sober as possible.”

Signs warn that the race is at participants’ own risk. The event is unofficial, uninsured, and organized informally by locals — meaning no one is legally responsible if someone gets hurt. Even the cheesemaker, 86-year-old Diana Smart, was warned by police she could be held liable as the supplier of the cheese wheel.

Anderson never planned to break the record of 21 wins set in 1991, but once he reached 13, he just kept going. He won multiple races in single days and finally set the record at 23 wins by 2018. Now 37 and recovering from a hip injury, he’s supposed to be retired — but if his 16-year-old son wants to run, Anderson might come back to coach him.

“I’d be happy for him to race,” Anderson says, “but if you’re not committed, don’t even bother.” The hill is brutal, and the worst thing, he warns, is going slow and getting caught in the chaos behind. He hopes his son will be fast enough to avoid that carnage.

And what about the cheese? Anderson admits he doesn’t like it much. “It’s got a strong aftertaste,” he laughs. But for him and many others, it’s never really about the cheese — it’s about tradition, adrenaline, and the thrill of the chase.