From a crazy idea in an adventurous young man’s mind to the world’s most prestigious mountain bike stage race, the Absa Cape Epic celebrates its 20th edition this month. We tracked down the man that founded the race, Kevin Vermaak, and asked him a few burning questions about the race’s past – and its future.
By Sean Badenhorst
Remind us again when you came up with the idea of creating the Cape Epic – and why?
In 2002, at the age of 30, I was living my eighth year in London, with barely a commitment in the world and a degree of financial and geographic freedom. With a few friends from London, I entered what was probably the world’s first participation-oriented, amateur mountain bike stage race in Costa Rica, called La Ruta de los Conquistadors (it still exists today). I’d done a lot of adventure bike expeditions, which included riding over the Himalayas multiple times, but that was officially the first MTB race I entered. And from that day onwards I was hooked on riding long mountain bike races. It cost us a lot to enter and was a fabulous riding experience, but the logistical challenges around the race took away from the experience. I figured that South Africa might be an excellent alternate destination for a good riding experience, but we’d be able to add world-class services to complete the package.
Within weeks of arriving back in London from Costa Rica, I’d I quit my London life and job, secured international marketing partners, launched www.cape-epic.com, and moved back to Cape Town. That first race took place just 15 months after conceiving the idea on the beaches of Costa Rica.
The first edition must have thrown a few challenges your way. What stands out as the greatest unplanned for challenge that year?
Ha, how long have we got, and how do I choose only one! But probably the standout challenge for which we could not completely plan on a spreadsheet, was the moving of the race village to a new location every day. In the first year, we only had one set of equipment (including rider tents) and moving an entire race village to the next location and the timing thereof was just not something we could practice and test before showtime.
It must have been hugely rewarding to have got the first edition completed successfully. Can you recall how you felt and what you did once the 2004 race was over?
I was under so much pressure there was barely a moment to stop and savour the moment of a successful first race. To be honest, the total revenue of the first year didn’t even cover 40% of the costs, and that was without me even drawing a salary, so we had big financial challenges to overcome from the very beginning. Before the first race had even started, I was negotiating credit and signing my life away in sureties to secure supplier services. Of course I could not tell anyone this dire financial situation, since no prospective rider would pay an entry fee for a race nine months in the future if they knew that all their entry fees were being used to cover the previous race’s losses! I also could not tell the staff members I was recruiting, since they too would not want to work for a company that was technically insolvent. This was an incredibly lonely and depressing time, since many readers might remember that there was a perception that we were ‘expensive’ and that I was ‘commercialising’ an otherwise cult and non-commercial sport – and making a killing in the process – which could not have been further from the truth! It took five years to finally make a profit, and another two to pay off accumulated losses.
No doubt a few lessons were learned that first year, what was the first thing you changed for the second edition?
We identified the choke points in moving between locations, bought additional equipment and introduced the leap-frog concept to establish the race villages. We started designing and buying our own equipment – many of the items that are now common in race villages and hospitality venues today – like mobile showers for example. Hard to imagine, but it was impossible to rent economically viable mobile showers in South Africa at that time.
You alluded to the dire financial challenges in the first three years already. When Absa came on board as the title sponsor in 2006, did everything suddenly improve?
The first year of Absa’s sponsorship was our biggest financial loss in percentage and absolute terms so their sponsorship did not deliver the outcome you might think in the short term. For a bank to sponsor a mountain bike race was unheard of in those days, especially when everyone was focused on football and the 2010 FIFA World Cup. I rather used the opportunity to make the race even bigger and more prestigious – worthy of a blue-chip sponsor not traditionally associated with cycling, like Absa.
Luckily Absa believed in what I was trying to achieve, and hence they increased their sponsorship at the same rate that the race was growing (>100% in the early years).
It was only in 2009, when we did two things that were game changers:
- Changed the start from Knysna to Cape Town and introduced the multi-day race villages (and even this was not about costing us less – there were other reasons why this was a game-changer).
- Increased the entry fee by 50% from one race to the next for the 2010 race
Your first few editions were a point-to-point format from Knysna to Stellenbosch. Logistically challenging but great for the small towns along the route. The race always used to involve and support local communities on its route. Do you know if it still does that with the modern format?
The reality is that for a race to be successful in a country like South Africa, you have to be conscious of the subtleties of living in a country where the cost of a single bike in the race might be above the average annual salary in the communities through which we passed. And this needs to be embedded in the DNA of the race and all the stakeholders need to be conscious of this. I don’t think it’s necessarily the format of the race that might prevent this from being true today.
You sold the Absa Cape Epic a few years ago to an international events group. Obviously, you built something really special and valuable that was highly attractive. Do you ever regret selling the event?
No, I don’t. At the time, the majority of my money was locked into the business, and South Africa was not a safe bet at the height of the State Capture years. Selling it gave us a degree of financial freedom that was incredibly rewarding for a young family.
Sure, I imagined that my personal involvement might play out slightly differently after the sale, but I definitely have no regrets in selling, per se.
You stayed involved with the Cape Epic for a while after you sold it. Presumably part of the sale deal. Are you completely disconnected from the event these days, or do you still have some involvement?
The last year of my earn-out was 2020, and initially I had an agreement with Ironman to remain involved with the Cape Epic – after all, I’d given almost two decades of my life to it, and I could barely imagine not being involved.
But I’m very black and white. At the time of the race last year (2023) it was not clear if Ironman would extend my agreement to remain involved with the Cape Epic. Then a few things happened that led to me choosing to step away. But I’ll still come to the Grand Finale this year, especially because my kids still love to see the race.
You didn’t build this race on your own. You had a very passionate and conscientious core team around you. Are some of those key staff still involved in the race?
I’d go to war with most of the team with whom I built the race. I made friends for life working together with the team with whom I overcame all the challenges. Sadly, quite a few of them have moved on (I think maybe 100 years of Cape Epic experience departed in 2023).
You’ve ridden two editions of the Cape Epic. Will you ever do another one and become a member of the legendary Amabubesi Club?
I’ll never just be able to ride the race as a regular competitor. The two times I rode the race, in 2016 and 2019, were years when I was absolutely confident and comfortable with the management and the status of the race – I personally had nothing more to add during the race week off the bike, so I might as well ride it. I rode it with two of my best friends. In 2019, I rode with my English friend with whom I rode La Ruta in 2002, and with whom I’d lain on the Costa Rica beaches bantering about maybe leaving London and doing a similar race in South Africa – so a very special experience.
I think that I’d probably just feel frustrated not being part of it all if I rode the race today – but that could change in the future. I’m not sure.
Where do you see the Absa Cape Epic in the next 5-10 years? Will it continue to be the dominant MTB stage race of the world? Will its format change at all? Will it continue to attract major sponsorship?
Interesting question. When the Epic Series was being established, I and my former colleagues had the privilege to look under the hood of many mountain bike stage races the world over. To be honest, there is not much competition in this category. The Absa Cape Epic is a complete outlier. The Cape Epic’s goal should not be simply the best in the category; it should be aiming to continue building the entire category of two-person mountain bike stage races. Sadly, when I look at the participation numbers of Epic Series races and many other stage races, this does not seem to be happening.
Where do you live these days?
During Covid we moved to the Swiss Alps – ironically to one of the small towns that hosted the Spar Swiss Epic, Arosa. It’s an excellent area for mountain biking (and skiing and snowboarding, obviously). We still travel to Cape Town regularly.
Are you still riding mountain bikes?
Sure. I took a break for a few years, but I’m back. That said, this year I rode the Cape Town Cycle Tour on a tandem with my 11-year old son, Bo, and it ranks right up there with the best sporting experiences of my life.
Thinking back, what did the Absa Cape Epic give you that’s priceless?
Two things stand out:
- It was something that I was utterly passionate about – I ate, slept, breathed Absa Cape Epic with a single-focus to the exclusion of almost everything else, to simply create the world’s premier mountain bike stage race. Not everyone has a chance to be so singular – and it made for a very pure and simple life for many years.
- An outlet for my creativity – initially to just solve the challenges associated with the core concept. But then also all the small details in corners of the event production that were probably not visible to 99% of participants and/or stakeholders. It was exhilarating to see successes heralded with much fanfare and knowing that only a handful of people knew how and why we achieved it at all.
And what does the future hold for Kevin Vermaak? Another mountain biking event perhaps?
Haha. I get asked that so often and I don’t really have an answer. Like anyone in this situation, I have a restraint of trade clause which I will obviously honour, but that lapses in the coming months, and who knows after that? I absolutely loved the Absa Cape Epic experience and am very proud of what we achieved, so I miss that. I’m definitely young enough to want new challenges and am open to new ideas, but who knows what those might be?
