Post by seacid on Aug 19, 2007 23:30:37 GMT 8
This is the mtb race that Banny was referring to.
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La Ruta Madness
The planet's toughest mountain bike race
February 1, 2004
Endless hiking with the bike
Photo by Monilee Lloy
Past riders have named it the "The toughest Mountain Bike Race on the Planet" and founder Roman Urbina warns, "La Ruta is not for everyone. It possesses a spirit of its own, and racers require several important qualities, including a high level of fitness, mental toughness to fight through pain, an appreciation for being challenged, and the inner spirit to feed off the beauty surrounding them..." In essence, La Ruta is more about the journey than the destination.
The race started November 14th, 2003 at 5:00am on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. 387 participants, eager to experience the 11th running of La Ruta, were jostling for position on the starting line. The race finished three days, more than 370kms and 25,000 ft of vertical climbing later on the Caribbean coast, where 222 official finishers celebrated the competition of their journey. The race led us through nine microclimates, into a jungle, over a volcano and through banana plantations. It tested us with steep climbs, thick mud, debilitating heat, long days, railroad tracks, and dilapidated rail bridges.
The memories I have are a patchwork of picturesque views, long climbs, crazy descents, amazing people, and of many small victories along the way.
Day one started with breakfast at 4am in the coastal town of Jaco where it was already hot and humid. The first day took us from Jaco to San Jose with 11,500 ft of climbing over a distance of 115km. Historically the hardest day of the three, this year was no exception as 150 riders were forced out of the race by the end of the day.
Within 5km from the start, we were into the jungle and coastal mountains. Only minutes after the climbing began the slope became so steep that everyone was off their bikes, pushing or carrying them up the hills which overlooked the ocean we'd left that morning. The grades were routinely over 20%, making them completely unrideable even in perfect conditions.
"Most of us walked our bikes down the hills as well as up; it was too dangerous to take advantage of gravity."
Just after cresting the first hill the soil turned into wet, slick, sticky clay; there were countless washouts in the trail, leaving three-foot deep gullies crisscrossing the trail. Most of us walked our bikes down the hills as well as up; it was too dangerous to take advantage of gravity.
As the sun rose the heat got worse. By the end of the day enduring the incredible heat would prove the biggest challenge for many of the competitors. Thankfully, there were several stream crossings in the jungle section and I took advantage of each and every one...soaking my head, trying to wash a few pounds of mud off of my bike...and sometimes laying in the stream to get a break from the energy-sapping heat and humidity.
Once through the jungle the race course took us along dirt roads through farmlands. This was our first introduction to the locals, who were amazing. They seemed to magically appear just when we needed them most with water hoses to cool us and cheers to encourage us.
While the riding became substantially easier, this section left us constantly exposed to the 35-plus celsius sun.
At one point I got goose bumps in the middle of a long climb and realized I was terribly dehydrated. "Drink more water. Take more salts." Reminding myself of this was a constant battle.
As the day went on and the climbing continued, my body started to feel fatigued. My constant exposure to the energy-sapping sun and the 11,500 ft of climbing was taking its toll. But I was determined to finish and was amazed to see other riders giving up despite being almost a dozen hours into the race and so close to the finish. I crossed the finish line completely exhausted, yet happy and amazed by it all.
The start of day two was quite memorable as we snaked through the streets of San Jose in a huge peloton. The route took us up to Tirrialba via the summit of Volcano Irazu with 8,500ft of climbing and descending over a distance of 105km. I was looking forward to day two as I love to climb and had heard the views on the ride up to the top of the volcano were amazing. And I was not disappointed. It took me four hours to climb the 8,500ft and I enjoyed every minute of it.
The descent was not nearly as enjoyable. Temperatures at the top were less than 10 celsius, so even with my extra layers I was cold from the start. Then thunder, lightning and rain began. I remember thinking "This is crazy!" and laughing to myself. The descent was a blur of wet rocks (some the size of watermelons), numb fingers, tired upper body, and the constant chattering of my teeth. Four hours later, I crossed the finish line. I was never so happy to taste hot food in my life.
Day three started at 7:30 am in Tirrialba and took us to Porte Limon on the Carribean coast. All of the 5,600ft of climbing was in the first 40km and was followed by 100km of flat roads, railroad tracks and beach sand.
When I woke up in the morning I couldn't believe it was the last day - I was only 140km from finishing! But my day didn't start well; I realized right off the start that my shifting gears were not working. After fumbling around with my multi-tool for a few minutes, a local took pity on me and helped me fix my shifting. With his help I had access to half of my back gears (better than nothing) in 30 seconds flat.
I spent the first hour pushing hard to catch up to the middle of the pack. The first hike-a-bike on this day was quite memorable...down a steep hill and though knee-deep mud. I got off my bike and tramped right down the middle, laughing to myself and feeling like a kid again.
"The railroad tracks often went through towns where lines of children were standing in rows alongside the race route, hands extended, hoping for a high-five..."
I met and made a lot of friends on the flats and railroad sections. It was much easier to work in a group; time and kilometers seemed to fly by! The railroad sections went quite a bit slower, especially the bridges, where speed became irrelevant - I just wanted to get across alive. Where there were ties missing I used my bike for support while I hopped from one beam to the next. I was cursing the metal cleats that I had loved so much on day one.
The bridges seemed to get worse. On the last bridge I could no longer use my bike as support as there were too many ties missing - it would have dropped through into the rushing river 50+ feet below (and me with it). When I got to that section I just stood there for a while until I heard a voice say "Walk on the steel beam," and so I did. I still can't believe I walked on that steel beam!
The railroad tracks themselves are also embedded in my memory. They were abusive to the body and mind. There were sections that had loose rocks in between the beams, which made traction impossible. And there were sections with nothing in between the beams, which meant that you had to stand up out of your saddle. They went on forever.
The railroad tracks often went through towns where lines of children were standing in rows alongside the race route, hands extended, hoping for a high-five as we rode by. Once again the locals picked up my spirits and helped me on my way.
The kindness of the locals and the quick friendships made both amazed and inspired me. When I reached the final finish line, I couldn't believe it was over. I was overcome with a sense of accomplishment and appreciation. Accomplishment because of the route I'd ridden and the challenges I'd overcome in three short days. Appreciation for the beauty of the country and the many people who picked up my spirits and helped me along my journey.
by Monilee Lloy
Monilee Lloy was the first Canadian Female ever to complete La Ruta and placed 10th in the women overall. Another Ottawa-area rider, Fraser Atkinson, finished 8th out of 58 in his age category and 63rd overall.
------------------
La Ruta Madness
The planet's toughest mountain bike race
February 1, 2004
Endless hiking with the bike
Photo by Monilee Lloy
Past riders have named it the "The toughest Mountain Bike Race on the Planet" and founder Roman Urbina warns, "La Ruta is not for everyone. It possesses a spirit of its own, and racers require several important qualities, including a high level of fitness, mental toughness to fight through pain, an appreciation for being challenged, and the inner spirit to feed off the beauty surrounding them..." In essence, La Ruta is more about the journey than the destination.
The race started November 14th, 2003 at 5:00am on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. 387 participants, eager to experience the 11th running of La Ruta, were jostling for position on the starting line. The race finished three days, more than 370kms and 25,000 ft of vertical climbing later on the Caribbean coast, where 222 official finishers celebrated the competition of their journey. The race led us through nine microclimates, into a jungle, over a volcano and through banana plantations. It tested us with steep climbs, thick mud, debilitating heat, long days, railroad tracks, and dilapidated rail bridges.
The memories I have are a patchwork of picturesque views, long climbs, crazy descents, amazing people, and of many small victories along the way.
Day one started with breakfast at 4am in the coastal town of Jaco where it was already hot and humid. The first day took us from Jaco to San Jose with 11,500 ft of climbing over a distance of 115km. Historically the hardest day of the three, this year was no exception as 150 riders were forced out of the race by the end of the day.
Within 5km from the start, we were into the jungle and coastal mountains. Only minutes after the climbing began the slope became so steep that everyone was off their bikes, pushing or carrying them up the hills which overlooked the ocean we'd left that morning. The grades were routinely over 20%, making them completely unrideable even in perfect conditions.
"Most of us walked our bikes down the hills as well as up; it was too dangerous to take advantage of gravity."
Just after cresting the first hill the soil turned into wet, slick, sticky clay; there were countless washouts in the trail, leaving three-foot deep gullies crisscrossing the trail. Most of us walked our bikes down the hills as well as up; it was too dangerous to take advantage of gravity.
As the sun rose the heat got worse. By the end of the day enduring the incredible heat would prove the biggest challenge for many of the competitors. Thankfully, there were several stream crossings in the jungle section and I took advantage of each and every one...soaking my head, trying to wash a few pounds of mud off of my bike...and sometimes laying in the stream to get a break from the energy-sapping heat and humidity.
Once through the jungle the race course took us along dirt roads through farmlands. This was our first introduction to the locals, who were amazing. They seemed to magically appear just when we needed them most with water hoses to cool us and cheers to encourage us.
While the riding became substantially easier, this section left us constantly exposed to the 35-plus celsius sun.
At one point I got goose bumps in the middle of a long climb and realized I was terribly dehydrated. "Drink more water. Take more salts." Reminding myself of this was a constant battle.
As the day went on and the climbing continued, my body started to feel fatigued. My constant exposure to the energy-sapping sun and the 11,500 ft of climbing was taking its toll. But I was determined to finish and was amazed to see other riders giving up despite being almost a dozen hours into the race and so close to the finish. I crossed the finish line completely exhausted, yet happy and amazed by it all.
The start of day two was quite memorable as we snaked through the streets of San Jose in a huge peloton. The route took us up to Tirrialba via the summit of Volcano Irazu with 8,500ft of climbing and descending over a distance of 105km. I was looking forward to day two as I love to climb and had heard the views on the ride up to the top of the volcano were amazing. And I was not disappointed. It took me four hours to climb the 8,500ft and I enjoyed every minute of it.
The descent was not nearly as enjoyable. Temperatures at the top were less than 10 celsius, so even with my extra layers I was cold from the start. Then thunder, lightning and rain began. I remember thinking "This is crazy!" and laughing to myself. The descent was a blur of wet rocks (some the size of watermelons), numb fingers, tired upper body, and the constant chattering of my teeth. Four hours later, I crossed the finish line. I was never so happy to taste hot food in my life.
Day three started at 7:30 am in Tirrialba and took us to Porte Limon on the Carribean coast. All of the 5,600ft of climbing was in the first 40km and was followed by 100km of flat roads, railroad tracks and beach sand.
When I woke up in the morning I couldn't believe it was the last day - I was only 140km from finishing! But my day didn't start well; I realized right off the start that my shifting gears were not working. After fumbling around with my multi-tool for a few minutes, a local took pity on me and helped me fix my shifting. With his help I had access to half of my back gears (better than nothing) in 30 seconds flat.
I spent the first hour pushing hard to catch up to the middle of the pack. The first hike-a-bike on this day was quite memorable...down a steep hill and though knee-deep mud. I got off my bike and tramped right down the middle, laughing to myself and feeling like a kid again.
"The railroad tracks often went through towns where lines of children were standing in rows alongside the race route, hands extended, hoping for a high-five..."
I met and made a lot of friends on the flats and railroad sections. It was much easier to work in a group; time and kilometers seemed to fly by! The railroad sections went quite a bit slower, especially the bridges, where speed became irrelevant - I just wanted to get across alive. Where there were ties missing I used my bike for support while I hopped from one beam to the next. I was cursing the metal cleats that I had loved so much on day one.
The bridges seemed to get worse. On the last bridge I could no longer use my bike as support as there were too many ties missing - it would have dropped through into the rushing river 50+ feet below (and me with it). When I got to that section I just stood there for a while until I heard a voice say "Walk on the steel beam," and so I did. I still can't believe I walked on that steel beam!
The railroad tracks themselves are also embedded in my memory. They were abusive to the body and mind. There were sections that had loose rocks in between the beams, which made traction impossible. And there were sections with nothing in between the beams, which meant that you had to stand up out of your saddle. They went on forever.
The railroad tracks often went through towns where lines of children were standing in rows alongside the race route, hands extended, hoping for a high-five as we rode by. Once again the locals picked up my spirits and helped me on my way.
The kindness of the locals and the quick friendships made both amazed and inspired me. When I reached the final finish line, I couldn't believe it was over. I was overcome with a sense of accomplishment and appreciation. Accomplishment because of the route I'd ridden and the challenges I'd overcome in three short days. Appreciation for the beauty of the country and the many people who picked up my spirits and helped me along my journey.
by Monilee Lloy
Monilee Lloy was the first Canadian Female ever to complete La Ruta and placed 10th in the women overall. Another Ottawa-area rider, Fraser Atkinson, finished 8th out of 58 in his age category and 63rd overall.
if you book early you can get round trip tickets (US to CR) around $400-500.
. We usually rides 21 -22 miles for 3 hrs with lots of climbs.
