Everesting on an MTB isn’t just about legs. It’s what happens when your lights die in the dark, your tubeless setup demands a plug, and you still have to drop into a trail where your heart rate sits at 160–170 bpm. Vojta Bláha—two-time Czech enduro champion from the foothills of the Lusatian Mountains—finished his enduro Everesting in Finale Ligure and shared what really decided the day: strategy, support, mindset… and the exact setup on his bike.

Northern Bohemia as a riding school

Vojta Bláha doesn’t love being boxed into “enduro racer.” His own label is simpler: mountain biker. And it fits. His riding started from pure curiosity—find a hill, climb it, then hunt for the best way down. That mindset, he says, was shaped on the trails of the Lusatian Mountains, where you don’t get much for free: if you want the descents, you earn them with the climbs.

He had the basics at home too. His dad raced marathons and cross-country, so the early days were about racing and the old-school rule: ride up before you ride down—no lifts, no shortcuts. That mix of terrain, playfulness, and self-reliance made enduro feel like the natural direction.

What is enduro, and why is it so complex?

Vojta explains enduro in a way that makes it click: it’s a discipline where you need a deep endurance base—think 7+ hours “in the zone”—plus sprint efforts, plus skills that live close to downhill riding. The result is a sport where you have to be “pretty good at everything.”

Now add Everesting to that equation.

Enduro Everesting in Finale Ligure: 8,848 meters, darkness, and punctures

Why Nato Base, and why the same trail, over and over?

Vojta chose Finale Ligure (Nato Base) because it’s a climb enduro riders know. He didn’t want an “anonymous hill” where people shrug and say, “Cool, he rode up a hill twenty times.” Here, most riders can picture the scale, the length, and how savage that loop really is.

And because Everesting rules require repeating the same route, he had to commit to one descent trail and “machine” it again and again—no swapping lines to stay fresh.

The descent is not recovery: 160–170 bpm is normal

Here’s the key difference vs road Everesting: you work on the way down. Even when he wasn’t riding at full race speed, Vojta was seeing heart rates around 160–170 bpm on a technical trail. In practice, that means every endurance climb is followed by a 10-minute high-intensity interval—repeated all day (and night).

Darkness multiplies every problem

Starting at midnight meant roughly seven hours in the dark. Vojta prepared lighting carefully, but the lights became the biggest failure point: the powerful bar-mounted light died early, so he climbed on a small “marker” light and descended using a headlamp. That’s the kind of detail that matters more on MTB than the perfect watt plan—because visibility is speed, safety, and confidence.

Lightweight setup vs trail reality: three punctures

To save weight, he removed tire reinforcements and ran a lighter setup. The result? Three punctures. Tubeless repairs in the dark—plugging, guessing, hoping—are slow and messy. And to make it worse, his old pump literally fell apart in his hands.

If you’re thinking about MTB Everesting, take this as the headline: the lightest setup often isn’t the fastest. Reliability wins.

The hardest third? The middle. Cramps, knees, hail

Vojta breaks the day into thirds:

• First (night): hard because of the cold start, technical issues, and getting moving.

• Middle: the worst physically and mentally—rain, hail, mud. The fifth lap was “closest to the edge”: cramps hit, and his knees started to hurt. Climbing on an enduro bike is a strength grind, as he puts it—almost “breaking it over the knee.”

• Last: friends joined, the trail dried out, flow arrived during golden hour… and then darkness came back again.

There was also a small horror-movie moment: in the dark he managed to spook a group of wild boar. He didn’t meet wolves, but he knows they’re in Finale.

Pacing and strategy: when numbers stop working

At the start, Vojta paced by the numbers. The plan:

• climb about 1.5 hours

• descend 15 minutes

• eat/rest 15 minutes

• one loop in 2 hours, aiming for roughly 20 hours total

Then punctures, longer breaks, and fatigue broke the rhythm. From around lap five onward, he rode purely by feel. The target was about 200 W, but sometimes he saw 150 W—because that was all he had.

Strava summed it up perfectly: “This is Vojta’s longest ride.” Stats were around 177 km, nearly 24 hours moving, and 8,848 m of elevation gain.

Food, hydration, and support: the van as mission control

The key advantage was support from his girlfriend running a van “basecamp”: breakfast, dry gear, comfort, and real food (yes, pasta). On the climbs he relied mostly on quick carbs—cookies, fast sugars—because heavy food doesn’t go down well under load.

Hydration was simple and practical: one bottle with an electrolyte/carbo drink for calories, plus clean water in the backpack to alternate. No lab-coat protocol—more of a classic gravity rider approach.

Second wind-and the butt question: the least dramatic part

On the ninth (final) climb, Vojta found a huge second wind. Around hour 22 his brain clicked into a different mode and he suddenly climbed faster than he expected. He says it isn’t necessarily pleasant—but it’s the core of ultra efforts: that strange headspace where you’re not just riding with your legs anymore.

And the question everyone asks after a ride like this? The butt. Vojta expected drama, but it never came: he used a proper road-style chamois pad, applied chamois cream (Smiling Butt Cream), and—most importantly—rode a custom Posedla Joyseat saddle, so his sit bones stayed surprisingly happy. The irony is that his hands suffered more than his seat area: a long-reach enduro bike means you’re hanging on the bars even while climbing.

Bike check: What Vojta is racing right now (C-DURO “SHREMEEQ”)

Vojta’s race bike is a C-DURO with 170/170 mm travel. The frame is modular—by changing shock position, travel can go up to 190 mm (and with a dual-crown fork it turns into a near park bike).

What makes this setup work (and why)

• High-pivot (four-bar + idler pulley): the rear axle moves not only up but also back over impacts → better edge compliance, grip, and stability.

• Suspension: Fox 38 up front (170 mm), set up on the firmer, race-support side; a coil shock out back for consistency on long descents (less heat-related change than air).

• Mullet wheels (29” front / 27.5” rear): front for rollover speed and line-holding, rear for agility. On a full 29er he sometimes clipped in steep sections.

• Carbon bars: reduce vibrations and help save the hands.

• Intend brakes: huge power with a light lever action (less forearm fatigue).

• Rear tire insert (tubeless): allows lower pressures without the tire folding in corners.

• Custom Posedla Joyseat: on an Everesting-style day, saddle comfort is make-or-break. Here it meant the seat area wasn’t the limiting factor—Vojta dealt with hands and fatigue more than saddle pain.

Why he switched from Acto5 to C-DURO

He enjoys being part of development—giving feedback and pushing the product forward. He’d rather work with a smaller brand where he can make a real impact than be one name among many at a giant company.