Desert Dash in Namibia: One of the world’s toughest bike races

In the end, 30 centimetres, damn 30 centimetres decide. Konny Looser drops to his knees, he hangs his head, his face is marked with dust and dirt. "Shit, man!" he shouts. It is shortly after five in the morning in Swakopmund, a coastal town in Namibia. Looser hears the waves of the Atlantic crashing in and slowly receding; he sees the flashes of cameras surrounding him; he feels the cold creeping into every fibre of his wiry body.

Thirty goddamn centimetres have ruined his winning streak. Made him a loser. Looser, how ironic. He came second, but that doesn't console him, no, it only makes everything more bitter. "In the end, everyone only looks at the winner anyway, right?" he says. It sounds dejected and hopeful at the same time: right? "How long have they been licking their fingers for the title?" his father-in-law asks, but actually it's not a question.

Less than 15 hours earlier, Konny Looser enjoys the reputation of a legend. What Michael Schumacher once was for Formula 1 and Bayern Munich for the German Bundesliga, Konny Looser is for the Desert Dash. The Swiss has taken part in the mountain bike race in Namibia six times. Six times he has won. "Boring," Desert Dash fans say about him, "he wins anyway." One of his strongest competitors says: "Konny is as good as unbeatable." He himself says, "Anything other than winning is out of the question for me."

The Desert Dash is a race of extremes. The participants cross the oldest desert in the world on mountain bikes. They cycle 393 kilometres through the Namib, from up to 35 degrees Celsius in the midday heat to the cold of the desert night, from the capital Windhoek to the coastal town of Swakopmund. Those who get there see how the dunes of the Namib and the waves of the Atlantic meet in a crashing showdown. Those who take longer than 24 hours are eliminated even before that.

As contrasting as the nature in Namibia is, as contrasting are the demands of the participants. At the top of the race, professionals and losers alike test their physical and mental limits. They strive for best times and reach for the title. Looser's title. At the back of the field, hobby riders heave their beer bellies up the roads; for them, participation alone counts. Arrive? Maybe, let's see. Those who want to can compete in a team and halve or even quarter the load of the course. An excerpt from the starting list of the Desert Dash 2021: Team "Just riding along" has registered, as well as "The Vomit" and "Fat Fun".

For a sparsely populated country like Namibia, the Desert Dash is a big event. Weeks before the event, conversations in the bike shop and supermarket revolve around the "Dash". Anyone who dares to tackle the route as a Namibian lone rider becomes a local celebrity for a short time. "Did you hear that Martin is taking part again this year?" "Maybe it will be enough to win this time."

As a professional cyclist from Europe, Looser, married to a German-Namibian cyclist, looks on with almost amusement. He is used to different competition, he says: "It's not exactly like the world class is gathering here." Still, he senses that something is different in his seventh year. He just can't grasp it yet. He travels to Namibia earlier than usual, prepares more intensively.

The Desert Dash takes place every year on a holiday with an unwieldy name, "Namibian Women's Day and International Human Rights Day". Hours before the starting gun, families park their off-road vehicles at the side of the road, car boots and loading areas become spectator stands. Meat sizzles on barbecues that everyone here just calls "braais". Next to them, naked bellies sizzle in the sun. At a safe distance, baboons have positioned themselves on trees and fence posts, as if they too wanted to take a look at the maniacs who speed along the gravel roads in the African summer.

The Afrikaans word "Gees" is heard again and again this afternoon. Literally translated, it means "spirit". Yet if anyone can explain the true meaning of "Gees", it is probably the Dash spectators at the roadside: it is an atmosphere that inevitably takes you away, a pull that you cannot escape.

Read more: The feature was published in the Swiss edition of the magazine The Red Bulletin.. Click here to read the full article (German).

Pictures: Tara Mette