La Ruta Pre-Race Report Day 1
I had no idea what to expect from La Ruta, day one. All I knew was, “If you make it through day one, your chance of finishing is very good.” This was told to me several times before the trip and pre-run by good sources. Not sure if that was to motivate me or to strike fear. The other advice goes something like this, “Don’t lose the leaders on the first climb; if you do, you will not catch them back and may get lost in the jungle.” Sweet! So, let me tell you what this entails: Hanging with a group of pure climbers on a nearly 30% grade for 30 minutes.
Driving to the beautiful beach town of Jaco was an adventure in itself. The twisty little road appeared to mimic the course. The road went up and down, as crazy drivers would try to find any way around the buses. Gnarly! We did stop at a bridge to see some crocodiles.
Upon unloading the bikes and suiting up, I realized my next issue: sweat. I was already soaked and had not even turned a pedal. Is it possible to stay hydrated for the next several hours? Day one consists of 70 miles and 15,000 feet of climbing. Much of this is post-holing through mud and hike-a-bike in the jungle. With aid stations every hour this seemed like it would not be too big of an issue, except that after aid station one, there is no way to receive aid in the reserve region of the jungle for 2-3 hours, as it is inaccessible to vehicles. This is a “Do Not Get Lost” zone!
This first climb was definitely all it was cracked up to be, 30 minutes of torture with sweat leaving your body at an alarming rate. Manny Prado set a nasty pace as this was also to be an interval day as well. Once we got to the top, Manny and I took a moment to enjoy the view of the ocean and the jungle. Glad I saw it that day because, and I quote, “Ben, take a look at this beauty now. You will not see it during the race.” I knew what Manny meant—when suffering during the race you will only see the tire in front of you.
The ridge road soon dropped into the jungle where Manny and I would depart from our Economy Rent a Car support vehicle, which was my girl, Nikki and Alex (aka Choco). Off on our own now for the next few hours I was high on life to see what the jungle would bring. There were nasty, steep mud descents, some of which had to be walked, and endless small river crossings. It was common to stop a few times and lube your chain due to the mud and water. Fortunately, Manny has all of this knowledge on tap. Broken chains are a constant on this section of La Ruta. With all that mud weighing you down, river crossings were actually very welcoming: a break and bike bath every 20 minutes. The canopy of the jungle was so thick that sunscreen was not an issue either. The whole time I imagined the movie Predator and what easy prey we must be, but most likely just an indigenous animal like a puma, leopard, jaguar, or, maybe, monkeys eyeing us up.
Popping out of the jungle proved to be painful instead of a relief. We were greeted by sunshine and steep dirt roads. Manny tells me, “The race is about to begin!” All that could mean was that some nasty climbing was ahead, which means the leaders would attack again! After cruising through another beautiful small town, the hill did not disappoint. One hour of pain, followed by possibly the scariest downhill ever—so steep it has concrete to hold the dirt on the hill. An added bonus, due to the constant rain, the concrete is covered in algae. Did I mention twisty, too? If I lived on that hill, I would personally invent ABS for the bicycle. After descending to the bottom, the heat was relentless. Our jerseys were open, trying to get some swamp cooler effect to fight off the humid conditions. We pressed on. I know I mentioned this earlier, but it’s difficult to describe how hard it is to stay hydrated here. We were 6 hours into La Ruta day 1 pre-ride, one hour to go that consists of steep, short interval hills, on tired, dehydrated legs, and it’s almost too hot to eat. As we enter the last 3K to go, the course throws its last “hurrah” at us: a 30% little climb back to the small town of Santa Ana. No town was ever so welcoming, and never my legs so tired.
Thanks for reading, Manuel Prado, Ben Bostrom.
For a full picture gallery of today’s pre-ride click here.
