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One text from Keeto just after Stage 6:
Bad news. Both Achilles blown at 15km.

Stage 6 was 130km long with 2,095m of climbing. Fast gravel roads through farmlands, with rugged jeep tracks winding through mountain fynbos. A short stretch on tar gave riders a welcome rest before dirt roads and farm tracks headed for the sea. A quick nip over the dunes took the riders into the shores of Walker Bay to cross the Stanford River mouth – a knee-deep wade (with bikes on shoulders) before they reached Old Hermanus Harbour.

If you stroll through the Absa Cape Epic race village in the evening, people from all over the world camp door to door. Riders pick their tents as they come in at every stage, so you never have the same neighbours twice. Thus the camp of red tents has become a little microscopic representation of the world, stretched over a school sports field. And your neighbours and fellow riders become your family.

Keeto calls me every day between 6 and 8pm. It depends on how he’s feeling and whether he has to attend the med tent. For Stage 6, he only sent me the one text. So the man is hurting. He must’ve survived because I saw his finish time of 9h12m on the Cape Epic website. But that’s all the information I have. No-one has been able to tell me whether Keeto and the Hoff will start stage 7.

With the last few stages, the end is nigh. But the guys are so knackered, they can barely comprehend the implications of finishing. All they think about is getting up, getting on the bike and suffering. Concentration levels are twisted and pain is the only measuring tool they have left. Dehydration is inevitable and falls are part of the course.

Tomorrow’s Stage 7 is (only) 91km’s with 1,985m of climbing,
RobbyRicc