Sam Sunderland
We caught up with the first Brit to win the Dakar rally.
How did you become a factory rider?
It wasn’t easy. I ditched my job and moved to Dubai at 19. I had a lot of advice from people around me to not make that leap of faith. I’d just done a lift engineer apprenticeship and had a stable job, and sacked it off to work in a showroom selling motorbikes and race at the weekend. It was balls-ey. I had no plan, as I was racing MX in the UK and just wanted to try and make a career. The training and riding worked.
How do you train?
At first I was training a lot for motocross. with a lot of fitness, cardio and long hours on a bicycle, just anything I could. After a while I got a coach, and now after ten years I train a bit differently. A bit more specific, so rather than high heart rate, I work on the best base fitness – a really high output for the least amount of effort. It means that I can go harder for longer, essentially. It’s not just living the dream and partying, but about hard work. I finished the Dakar, and was straight back in the gym!
What’s the hardest part of the Dakar?
For me, it’s if I ever drop out of the mental zone, and it happened a lot this year. I’m so focused on the job in hand that there’s no time to feel the fatigue. If there’s dust, or difficult navigation, you get to the point where you fall out of that focussed state, and all manner of thoughts come into my head – like, ‘How long have I got left?’. That’s when an accident happens. Then there’s other issues. For example, I had to ride another 300km with no rear brake, which was a recipe for disaster when you’re going blind over dunes. This year was tough when I received an hour penalty. It was a proper drama and made me think about giving up. Imagine being on day eight, after risking your life on every stage, to be given an hour penalty because a fuse had blown. The last three days I had my head in the clouds before the hour was taken off.
What’s the relationship with other riders?
Amongst our team, we’re all very close. It’s better that we get on well and have a bit of banter. With all the riders there’s a lot of respect. If you give someone the eyes before a race, in 30 minutes’s time they might be saving your life, so everyone has to look after each other in a way. You can’t just ride past others on the floor. As a human it isn’t right.
How much of a battering do the bikes take?
A lot. It’s only a 450cc! It will probably take you three or four months to put 12 hours on a motocross bike. We do that every single day. We’re only allowed one engine, so it’s basically flat out on the stopper for up to 15 hours a day for 10 days.
Have you tried other disciplines?
I did enjoy some Supermoto stuff, as I could transfer what I know a bit easier. I had a go on an R6, and that was a different ball game. The reverse gearbox was a nightmare to try and learn, and the riding position felt so cramped. It wasn’t too scary power wise compared to what a 1000cc would be, but the cornering was hard. I wanted to lay the bike down with my leg out, but by the second session I had my knee on the deck and felt like Rossi! I have to say, the first time I touched it down I terrified myself. I picked the bike up and went off the track. It’s just so different. It feels mad how much the road boys push the front at their speed, so fair play. I’m still trying to grease Red Bull & KTM up to give me a go on the GP bike, or build me a superbike.
What’s it like having brands like Red Bull & KTM backing you?
It’s incredible. It’s not just like, have a cap and promote our drink. When I’ve been injured they’ve taken me out to Austria for rehabilitation. They do training and stuff, and they bend over backwards. It doesn’t get much better, and KTM do an absolutely mint job. It’s hard work, but it’s definitely living the dream.