November 18, 2007 (Playa Bonita, Costa Rica) – Sleeping under a tin roof in the rainy season is an obnoxious assault on the ears. I was kept awake some of the night by a constant drumming and after three days of brutal riding, sleep is a precious commodity.

We were sequestered on this night into separate hotels and villa’s spread all over the valley. At Guyabo Lodge were a majority of English speakers and media. We were to have one of the best internet connections in the valley at this very European-style establishment, but someone failed to mention that to the owner and he turned the office into another room to accommodate one more rider. A beautiful large house high on a ridge with a commanding view, though clouded and socked in by clouds, this establishment was still very impressive.

Sitting down for breakfast on this the final day, while the rain hammered outside, there was a tangible feeling of relief to be finishing. Yet there was a lingering reluctance to step out into the wet weather and throw one’s leg over one’s bike for this one last stage.

Finally the bus found the lodge and we all made it to the start – it was like the world didn’t care, everything was in slow motion and 400 people were relaxed and unconcerned with anything but assembling at whatever pace deemed necessary. I think that finally we’ve all become a little bit Tico – that’s local lingo for Costa Rican, and often refers to Tico Time, or manyana (tomorrow).

Up the first climb, straight up five kilometers of what was to be a predominantly a downhill march to the Caribbean Ocean, the first 45km were rolling and it truly was a descent. Once past check point two the final 80km would be flat, fast wet and hard. It’s an amazing way to pass through a country and feel everything, wading through rivers, speeding through villages with school children and locals hanging out of yards and cheering, this is the way to see and feel any country.

Today’s game plan was as follows: 1) pass the climb, 2) find a group for the flat and 3) hang on for the last bit of nasty five kilometers of riding on railroad tracks, through 10km of flat-flooded roads with puddles large enough to completely submerge oneself and one’s bike. Along the way we’d also cross some railroad bridges with decrepid oil-slicked ties, high above raging rivers, and us in our funky bike shoes with no grip.

Bang the gun goes off and it seems like we roll onto the hill very courteously and relaxed. I actually felt not too bad and was pretty quickly into the top 10 and chasing the leaders. With half a km to go to the top of the first climb I was just behind the leaders. Over the top and onto a small traverse Jason Sager (USA) MonaVie/Cannondale and I flew down and rolled onto the back of the lead group – the last two to attach and the only two on full suspensions.

I am elated as my master plan seems to be about to ppppfffffftttttttttsssssssssss, yes, it’s a flat. After changing my flat I am resigned to a steady day in the office that will as usual hurt, but deliver no meaningful results, or so I think in my slightly bummed out state.

I sweep through the stragglers and pick up a strong group and we arrive at the flats 4-strong and rolling quickly. Continuing to the Carribean between us and the leaders is nobody – we have become the chase and are making our way to the end of La Ruta with only the trestles, the tracks and the water between us and success.

Slowly our group grows to six and dwindles to three and in the final kilometers we sprint and we are “˜Big Men’, hard and tough, who have crossed the entirety of Costa Rica – we are Conquistadores.

Kris Sneddon (Kona), Jason Sager and I plunged into the Carribean Ocean, relief and exhaustion write clearly upon our smiling faces, an image and a feeling I will always share with all who complete a challenge of such epic proportions.

Later, sitting on the beach front patio watching people roll in, until the big lights went out and still they were finishing. While we sipped beer and cheered we were almost sad to walk away from another La Ruta, yet our bodies and minds were desperately in need of rest. It’s sad to say good bye and yet strangely enough, for a race that kicks my ass so thoroughly, I look forward to next year and the world’s “toughest race”.

Ruta Notes:

Men
– Max Plaxton excited the race, got sick, but enjoyed himself
– Kris Sneddon for being a steady diesel and having a good overall result
– Cory Wallace for doing very well and trying something different
– Jon Nutbrown commited to being epic – awesome work

Women
– Samantha Phillips for the plate in her collarbone, but staying to support
– Trish Grajczyk taking 4th
– Tamara Goeppel out of the Yukon
– Fanny Paquette super positive and enjoying the adventure

Master A
– Michel Bujold with some mechanicals an awesome ride overall 18th
– Dean Payne, doing research in Central America for BC Bike Race

Master B
– Mike Charuk hung onto victory, congrats Mike
– James Wilson welcome back to competition

Veterans
– Sandy Mitchel takes victory, at 200lbs I am even more impressed
– Tony Routley feeling the Montezuma revenge but hanging on

It’s all these people – Canadiana and everyone else, the organizers, the press, and others I can’t even begin to mention – all these people that light up and animate four days of adventure biking in Central America. We have fun and we suffer and I’d gladly do all again because of all the people. Why is the bike such a conduit of fun and good experience, ponder that question and I’ll see you at the next epic event.

Dre