La Ruta de Conquistadors is a phenomenally difficult MTB Stage Race held annually in Costa Rica. In 2007, Stuart Spies was there with a troupe of racing mates. With the date set for November 2-5 in 2011, perhaps Spies’ indepth recollection of the race may tempt you to organise flights and an entry.
Day 2
This was a new addition for 2007, part of the old route plus an extra loop, Frederic Ramierez had laid down the hurt on the top of the race. When someone like Andreas Hestler is an hour down after day one you start thinking it is not only the plebs that receive a kicking. The Costa Ricans hate seeing a foreigner with their title, and in Master A and Open it was Tico’s all the way with the foreign contingent being led by Thomas Dietsch of France and in Master A Benjamin Thompson of the USA being first foreigner in second place.
Never mind them, the Brits, Saffa’s, Australian and lone Dutchman were still in recovery from day one. With Day 2’s profile looking like the back of a crocodile, the 75km was looking set to break the spirit a bit. The weather had calmed down and the cloud cover meant Eelco was licking his lips in anticipation, strange people the Dutch!
To be honest I don’t remember much of day 2, I struggled, the legs were burning each time the road went up and my slightly over zealous pacing at the start saw me swinging at the end of a line containing Eelco, two rather tall American chaps and Susan Hayward. Hayward was hunting down the pocket rocket Louise Kobin, a woman with more achievements in multiday than pretty much the whole mens field. These girls were awesome, their work rate is ridiculous, they will not stop pedalling!
Eelco dragged me back up to the groupetto after a feed stop where the organisers pounce on you with everything from baked potatoes to fresh papaya, they’re like a pit crew in overdrive, I held on for a bit but the pace was too much and I started to fade, Eelco set about claiming back his ten minutes and shoving an extra 20 down my throat…ow!
One endearing memory is the wall of mud! Just when you think the worst is over the last 5km is hilarious, you turn off a rather nice tarmac section and there before you stands what I think was a road..…well a 5 foot wide mud river thing where you splodge up this bastard praying you wont lose a cleat. As you reach the top you have to hand your now 20kg heavier bike to a chap, leaving you to figure out how the hell to get up the ledge yourself. Vik was going to love this, as a man of shorter stature! Afterwards I complained to someone about the mud-fest walking descent before the finish, they in turn shut me up by saying some people went a slightly less fantastic route and landed up waist deep in the stuff.
A hard hard day and the fortifications were truly crumbling, the boys and girls arrived safely, Kerrie still smiling, Matt still happy and even Garry’s humour was restored after receiving a new loan bike after snapping his titanium Tomac.