Mountain Bike: Longest 27 miles ever; Elevation gain 4,300ft
It might not be that unusual for families with kids to be up before 5am on Christmas morning. For us, let’s just call it a rite of passage. There was a nice array of fresh fruit laid out, but I struggled to ingest anything other than half a banana, and by 5:30am we were on the road on the bikes. The dawn light was wonderful as we left the small town of Santa Maria and commenced our climb up towards the Continental Divide.
At least this tough mountain climb section was on road, although the first switchbacks were a killer. No respite between corners, the angle of the slope was relentless. As my closest ally in front yelled jubilantly that she finally made it into third gear (no mean feat), I yelled back a Nice Job, and suffered a while longer in first. When you’re in the lowest gear at both front and back, 1:1, it’s nicknamed ‘Granny gear’. I renamed it ‘Heather gear’.
We had a staggered start so the slowest of the slow (including me) wouldn’t be quite so much behind the fast people in topping out on the Continental Divide. Worked quite well except they didn’t factor in my energy levels. With little to no breakfast, I got half way up and faded spectacularly. I was like the Cookie Monster from Sesame Street “Me want cookie”. Luckily our support vehicle appeared before me with perfect timing. Like an oasis in the desert, there were snacks in the van. All was well with the world. 🙂
I forged ahead, fueled up and togged up with an extra layer. The temperature was dropping as I slogged slowly upwards, embracing the fine mist as I cycled into the clouds. One of the group who’d already finished walked down a little way to holler words of encouragement to those of us on the final stretch, and there was much support from the others as we reached the highest point of the trip, back slapping and hugging. What a fantastic feeling to arrive at the summit of the Continental Divide by pedal power, on Christmas Day. The whole group was ecstatic, such a triumphant feeling.
Our Christmas Day breakfasts over the last few years have included smoked salmon and champagne, which of course is amazing. But this Continental Divide breakfast of baked plantain stuffed with local squeaky cheese, especially with that post-bike appetite, will go down in history! Best Christmas breakfast EV-ER.
It felt like we’d done a full day already. Far from it! Our next challenge was a downhill off-road bike section, not technical but an initiation enough for me and somehow I managed to stay on the bike, and still have a smile on my face for the group picture.
Having survived that, challenge #2 was announced as the next short steep uphill (which was indeed super steep; anything but short). “Less than 10% of people make it up this hill without getting off their bike, so don’t feel too bad if you don’t make it.” Taking the advice to heart, I admitted an early defeat and sidestepped off my bike, approaching the steep gradient with resignation. Darren unfortunately dropped his chain. Most others lasted only a little longer, but two of our team knocked it out of the park with a bike summit. Respect!
What goes up must come down, that’s the way it works. Doesn’t mean to say it gets any easier. In fact, this whole next section was distinctly outside my comfort zone, and as the descents got steeper and slippier, there was no way I was riding down that. But instead of being left way behind, the guides pulled together to help me hike my bike down the worst bits and Darren even got to do some sections twice, as he came back to help me. Of course, he was in his element!
At no point was I made to feel like a loser, and even if I completed this hairy section on my own two feet (rather than two wheels), it still counted!!! As the course went from super-technical to technically impossible, more and more of the group were playing hike-a-bike. Think muddy puddles, deep ruts gouged into the trail, and adverse cambers. Think cavernous holes, loose boulder-sized rocks and clay-bound wheels with no grip. And you’re not even close. Even the pictures don’t do it justice.
Yet again, we were mighty glad to see our support truck for a snack stop and rest.
And then along came Challenge #3. There was a river crossing coming up and the challenge was to do it staying on your bike. Wait, what… a river crossing? But I didn’t have my wetsuit boots with me? Gulp. Time to start getting over my river crossing phobia. One by one, each rider gained momentum as they approached the water, bumped over the rocky river bed, and then either recovered enough to make it up the bank on the other side… Or fell over into the water. Some more spectacularly than others. Luckily no one was hurt too bad (at least no broken bones).
I wasn’t alone in opting for the getting my feet wet option over the fall-in and get everywhere wet option. All that remained was to wash the worst of the mud off of the bikes.
Ironically, we were staying at probably the flashest place on this whole trip. We must have looked a picture as we rocked up to the lobby, spattered nay covered in mud, sweaty and stinky, wet and exhausted. I think it may have been at this point that the name for our group was born: the Filthy Riders. And never has a name been more fitting!
After a refreshing shower (how can this place have hot springs yet cold showers?), we wandered the grounds and took a dip in the hot spring pool. Immersed in the rainforest, what a perfect way to reflect on the most unique Christmas Day and soothe those aching muscles.
