11-19-07 // Events: LA RUTA Journal Stage 4

Descending the Turrialba volcanoe

And that brings us to Stage 4. Before the beach celebrations and bus/mudslide/taxi adventures, there were 120 kilometers of diverse eastern Costa Rica terrain to cover. The good news for the racers lining up in the pouring rain at the start: lots of downhill. The not-so-good news: rain-swelled river crossings, hub-seizing stretches of deep, brown water masquerading as trail, and hazardous riding and hiking across railroad tracks and bridges. And since this was a fast day, with lots of pack riding on muddy roads, there was also the constant wheel spray. I’ll be flossing mud and grit from my teeth for weeks.

After a steep five-kilometer climb out of the coffee plantations surrounding Turrialba Volcano near the start, we began the long descent toward Limon. There were plenty of grinder climbs mixed in, but the most memorable thing about the first half of the stage was the long, straight pavement descents, the likes of which I’d never before seen. We stayed tucked in pacelines for what seemed like forever, with no curves to slow us down. Glancing ahead revealed straight, plummeting pavement as far as you could see, and after a while the sensation almost put you in a trance.

Eventually we came close to the coast and made a sharp turn south onto the railroad tracks. I had seen pictures of these sections before but never understood exactly what riding here entailed. First of all, the railroad ties are not made of wood, like the ones we’re used to in the U.S., but rather concrete. Some sections were rather innocuous, but in the areas where the stones between the concrete bars were sparse, it was difficult to keep momentum. Square-edged concrete edges, sticking up a few feet apart, are a real test for suspension, and I was thankful for my tubeless tires and Fox shocks front and rear. I found it best to stand up and power through, but when you looked ahead and saw riders fumbling or coming off their bikes, it took a leap of faith to stay committed and keep your speed going into the rough stuff.

and more bridge crossings...

And then there were the bridges. Recent repairs made these crossings a little less terrifying than in years past, but some of the longer and higher crossings could definitely rattle the nerves. There are no side rails, nothing to hang on to if you lose your balance. And missing, damaged or rotted out slats keep you on your toes. Pro racer Jason Sager had a scare when he had to maneuver around an official race moto that had gotten hung up in one of the missing slats. Jason had to go outside the steel rail to get around the moto, and he slipped while taking a step. His leg went through, but he landed on his ass and somehow managed not to toss his bike or take a plunge into the rushing river below.

The last 20km or so featured lots of those water sections you see in the La Ruta ads. The ones where riders are chugging through deep water, leaving a rippling wake behind. The hardest part of these sections is you can’t see the bottom. It’s a mostly flat, sandy area next to the beach, so you get ripping, big-ring speed on the solid ground between them, then plow into the water hoping for the best. You either make it across, or take an over-the-bars plunge into the murky waters.

Eventually we reached the port town of Limon, where bananas are exported by the boatload. And just like that, La Ruta came to an end. Finishers’ medals were handed out, and a dip in the Atlantic followed by a cold Imperial beer preceded the aforementioned bus adventures.

Costa Rican Federico Ramirez had little trouble taking his fourth overall La Ruta win in Limon. Though Thomas Dietsch, the French marathon specialist, won the stage, Ramirez took the overall by more than 28 minutes. Sue Haywood, racing La Ruta for the first time, won the women’s race, beating three-time winner Louise Kobin.

I’m happy just to have finished my first La Ruta, which expanded this year from three to four stages. I don’t have access to results from my current jungle surroundings, but it’s safe to sat my 30-something placing in my category won’t get me recruited as Tinker Juarez’s successor. Not that he needs one—the wily old American was fifth, top American.

As mentioned in previous blogs, my equipment performed flawlessly. The Giant Anthem 1 was the perfect bike choice, and though I’m certain every bearing and seal will need overhauling after this Costa Rican gear torture experiment, I didn’t have so much as one flat tire during all those hours of punishing riding in the worst conditions imaginable.

So the big question is, would I do it again? It’s best not to answer that now while muscle cramps are still racking my body. But there are a limited number of registration spots for La Ruta, so the charitable move would be to pass the opportunity along to those of you who haven’t yet done it. Go ahead, I dare you.