The Masterclass: Candice Lill, Alessandra Keller, and the Art of Race Control

7 Wins. 8 Stages. 0 Doubts.

For years, the narrative surrounding Candice Lill at the Absa Cape Epic was one of “almost.” Five second-place finishes had painted a picture of a rider who was remarkably consistent, immensely talented, but perhaps perpetually shadowed by the unpredictable nature of the Untamed. In 2026, however, that narrative wasn’t just rewritten; it was entirely replaced by a clinic in professional stage racing. Alongside Swiss powerhouse Alessandra Keller, Lill didn’t just win the Absa Cape Epic; she and her Thömus Maxon Sabi Sabi teammate executed a masterclass in race control that will be studied for years to come.

Winning seven out of eight stages in a race as volatile as the Cape Epic is a statistical anomaly. To do so with such clinical precision, without a single moment of visible panic or a desperate tactical gamble, suggests a level of preparation and execution that transcended the rest of the field. This wasn’t a breakthrough born of luck or a favorable bounce of the ball; it was a methodical takeover of the women’s elite race.

The Anatomy of an Enforcement

The tone was set in the dust of Meerendal during the Prologue. While many teams use the opening time trial to find their rhythm or test their equipment under race pressure, Lill and Keller operated with the intensity of a World Cup short-track final. They put nearly a minute into their nearest rivals over just 20 kilometers—a massive margin at this level. This early aggression was a calculated move. By taking the Orange Jerseys immediately, they forced every other team into a reactive posture. From that moment on, the race was being played on Thömus Maxon Sabi Sabi’s terms.

Stage 1 in Montagu provided the first real test of their tactical maturity. On terrain known for its sharp shale and soul-crushing climbs, the pair didn’t simply out-power the field; they out-thought it. When the lead group began to fracture under the heat and the technical demands of the Karu, Lill and Keller remained synchronized. They sensed a moment of hesitation in the chasing bunch around the halfway mark and applied a definitive “surge of authority.” It wasn’t an all-out attack that risked blowing up; it was a sustained increase in tempo that the others simply couldn’t match.

Decision-Making Speed: The Invisible Weapon

If you ask a physiologist why Lill and Keller dominated, they will point to the “engines”—Keller’s explosive XCO power and Lill’s deep well of endurance. But if you ask a race analyst, they will talk about decision-making speed.

The Cape Epic is a race of a thousand micro-decisions. Which line to take through the rock garden? When to bridge a gap? When to save a “match” for the final climb? In 2026, Lill and Keller were making these decisions faster and more accurately than anyone else. In the chaotic, high-speed descents of the Western Cape, a split-second of doubt often translates into several minutes lost.

Lill, with her “PhD in Cape Epic terrain,” acted as the navigator, reading the loose-over-hard corners and technical drop-offs with an instinctive ease. Keller, the reigning XCC World Champion, provided the raw, blunt force. Together, they navigated the technical sections with a smoothness that preserved both their equipment and their energy. They didn’t just ride the trails; they flowed through them, carrying momentum where others were forced to brake and accelerate. This “clean racing” was their most potent weapon.

The Queen Stage and the Seal of Dominance

Nowhere was their superiority more evident than on Stage 5—the “Queen Stage” from Greyton to Stellenbosch. Spanning 90 kilometers with 2,150 meters of climbing, the day was further complicated by rain and mud. On a day that could have easily derailed a leader’s campaign, Lill and Keller looked at home in the muck.

While the chasing teams were battling the elements and managing mechanical hiccups, the leaders were extending their lead. They didn’t just survive the mandatory portage of Gantouw Pass; they attacked it. By the time they reached the finish in Stellenbosch, they had carved out a lead of over nine minutes on the stage. It was a demoralizing display of power and poise. For Lill, a rider who has tasted the bitterness of late-race disappointment so many times, this was the moment the “almost” narrative was finally buried. They weren’t just winning; they were “owning” the terrain.

A Partnership of Synchronization

The success of the Lill-Keller pairing also highlighted a shift in how successful Cape Epic teams are built. On paper, they were a fascinating experiment: Keller’s debut in the event meant she brought fresh legs and world-class speed, but zero experience in the specific cruelty of the Epic. Lill brought the opposite—deep, lived experience of every climb and every pitfall.

Usually, such a disparity in experience leads to friction. One rider is often dragging the other, or communication breaks down under the “psychological meat-grinder” of the later stages. Instead, there was total synchronization. Keller admitted during the week that she was learning the nuances of endurance management from Lill, while Lill was able to leverage Keller’s explosive power to neutralize any potential attacks before they could even form. They were the most complete unit the women’s race has seen in years—tactically mature, technically flawless, and physically unmatched.

The New Benchmark

As the Grand Finale concluded on the lush lawns of Coetzenburg, the numbers told a staggering story: Seven stage wins. A final GC lead of over 52 minutes. A performance that was, in every sense of the word, clinical.

This victory wasn’t just a personal milestone for Candice Lill—though her tears at the finish line spoke to the decade of effort it took to get there. It was a message to the mountain biking world. The modern Cape Epic demands more than just grit; it demands a total package of versatility. To beat a team like Lill and Keller, it is no longer enough to be the fittest; you have to be the smartest.

They have redefined what it means to control a stage race. They didn’t wait for the race to come to them; they went out and enforced their will upon it. In 2026, the Untamed met two riders who were more prepared, more decisive, and more synchronized than the terrain itself. Candice Lill and Alessandra Keller didn’t just win the Cape Epic; they mastered it.