There is a feeling you get when you land in the Basque Country. It's a mixture of damp earth, ancient secrets, and a sudden, primal need to move your legs. Our arrival for the ACG Zegama Experience was less of a check-in and more of an immersion. ACG (All Conditions Gear) doesn't just do events; they do takeovers.
Our host lodge in San Sebastian had been completely transformed. Every corner of the rustically elegant central room had that ACG takeover executed with nothing but love, attention to detail and true obsession. From the entrance mat to the specialized gear stations, we were surrounded by an aesthetic that balances raw performance with refined utility. The vibe was instant: we were here to work, to play, and to understand.
Arrival was a blur of reunion hugs, new introductions, and an immediate fueling strategy. ACG knows how to welcome a tribe. The spread of initial arrival snacks and the subsequent lunch were a masterclass in Basque hospitality. It wasn't just food; it was fuel designed for the environment; hearty, artisanal, and incredibly satisfying. As we met the mix of other retailers, passionate athletes, and influential publications, the energy began to hum. We were a diverse group, but united by a shared reverence for the mountains and the unique madness that is Zegama.
After fueling, the energy shifted. It was time. The pleasantries were over. We needed to change. The mountains were calling.
We headed south, the smooth coastal roads giving way to the jagged, impossible greens of the Goierri valley. Our destination: Zegama. Specifically, the notorious KB (Kilómetro Vertical) Challenge.
The Zegama Vertical Kilometer is legendary not just for its brutality: climbing 1,015 meters of positive gain in just over 3 kilometers, but for its unique final section. The organizers often shorten the timed portion slightly to finish at the chabola of Itzubiaga when weather demands, but the true myth lies in the final, neutralized scrambles of the "Wall." We weren't competing; we were the support crew.
We hiked from the town center towards the base of the wall, ascending through the dense, muddy beech forests that define the first half of the course. The atmosphere here is thick. You can feel the moisture clinging to the trees. As we emerged onto the exposed ridge, the sound of the crowd hits you long before you see them. Our job was to climb higher, positioning ourselves along the final, steepest pitches to scream, cheer, and literally push the athletes forward. It is a primal, beautiful, chaotic symphony of suffering and support.
Watching the elite KB field explode up that final slope is a spiritual experience. Two names stood out today, encapsulating both the present and future of the sport.
First, Nienke Brinkman. There is something otherworldly about her efficiency. Watching her glide over terrain that had us scrambling on all fours is almost disrespectful to physics. She won, making it look elegant. Nienke’s dominance isn't just about raw speed; it's about a deep, intuitive connection with technical, punishing terrain. Her performance today cemented her special relationship with Zegama, she is a force that seems to thrive on the precise type of suffering this mountain demands.
And then, on the other end of the experience spectrum, there is Gabriela Lasalle. She took 6th place today, but that number doesn't tell the full story. Gabriela is a young, promising contender, and watching her fight for every meter in that brutal field was inspiring. She has the kind of grit and raw talent that marks her as a definite future contender for the global trail running crown. Zegama rewards those who can suffer longest, and Gabriela showed today she has that capacity in abundance. Remember this name.
As the sun dipped behind the Aizkorri massif, we made our way to a local Sidrería for the official debrief and feast. A true Basque Sidrería Experience is not a quiet affair. It's a communal ritual centered around cider, and enormous quantities of food.
This was where the "Experience" part of ACG really unified. We weren't just retailers, media, and athletes anymore; we were a collective that had shared the muddy trails and the deafening wall. I found myself sharing steak with the team from I-Run, shooting some pictures with the team from 25 gramos, and comparing notes on gear durability with the people behind Foot District, and deep in a technical conversation with the editorial force of KisstheMountain... and of course, we cannot mention our good friends from Mental Athletic. You know when they're around, it's real.
We drank cider poured directly from the txotx (the massive chestnut barrels), shared incredible cuts of txuleta, and toasted to the mountains, the madness, and the fact that Day 1 was only the beginning.
