Dakar through Sandra Gómez’s lens: Navigating a sea of emotions

VERSIONE ITALIANA

I’m not someone who often cries tears of joy; instead, my tears are more likely to flow in moments of frustration, like when I knew I wouldn’t win that trial race in the world championship. I can recall shedding tears of joy only on two occasions. Once, tears barely fell because my body was so exhausted that I couldn’t produce them—Romaniacs 2020. The other time was on the way to the prologue of the Rally Dakar 2022.

It was dusk, December 31, 2021, and some riders, including myself, decided to cover part of the 834km of stage 1 on January 1. I had worked hard for months to be where I was, in the best possible condition. Oh my, I couldn’t believe it—I was at the starting line of the Rally Dakar. Riding my bike on the roads, tears of happiness and the tranquility of being there rolled down my face after months of intense effort, hard training, studying the roadbook, seeking funds, packing, talking to existing sponsors or potential new ones… I poured it all out in that magical sunset, with 8,000km lying ahead for the next two weeks.

The Dakar dream had been with me for many years, one of those dreams you think will never come true because, no matter what you do, it always seems far away. As a child, I went to see the start from Madrid (Madrid – Dakar 2002). I saw those giant bikes, those trucks, the cars—everything seemed surreal, and the riders were genuine heroes.

I believe that indirectly, my entire sports journey—from trial to enduro, ISDE, hard enduro—has been a perfect path to reach the rally. I have a lot of good content stored in my backpack—many experiences, a mix of good and bad feelings that make me strong and also enable me to enjoy and to handle situations.

The Dakar is not a game, not just another race. Many things happen during the race days. You see people fall, helicopters picking up bikes, you have the urge to pee for many kilometers, you see people with broken bikes and worry it might happen to you, you endure a lot of cold, sleepiness, hunger…

Imagine reading a book while watching a movie at the same time. But imagine the couch is moving, sometimes there’s sand, and you can’t see the movie or read the book well. Also, if you mess up in the book, it’s like switching to a different movie. That’s somewhat like navigating in the rally. Initially, I didn’t like it much—I prefer riding the bike, looking ahead, facing what’s coming. But that rally moment when you’re in perfect harmony with the roadbook, going fast, interpreting each sketch well—that’s genuinely fantastic, and you even think, “Wow, I’m good!” You learn that a well-managed roadbook is the key to going faster each time; you anticipate everything. Still, you can’t forget that danger is there, and a fall can put you out.

I hope this has brought you a little closer to what it feels like. I hope you can imagine the sensation of riding in a group with other riders who, at that moment, are your buddies because you’ve been riding with them for kilometers, taking turns to maintain a good pace through a giant sea of dunes. I’d love to convey that moment when you climb and descend the dunes, accelerating and drifting, and the sand splashes like water. That moment of tackling giant dunes that feel like a real wall, and your skin tingles as you conquer them one after another.

Truly, the Dakar is a magical race. It’s long, tough, but like many others, you have to love and hate it. It’s challenging to reach, and I hope to return in 2025—I still have unfinished business in this rally!

Sandra Gomez Cantero
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Photo courtesy of Sandra Gomez Cantero
Translation: Lisa Di Blas

Read the other article Sandra Gomez Cantero wrote for us: “The Limit”