Reflections on Ruta Del Jefe
When Sarah Swallow invites you out to southern Arizona for Ruta del Jefe, you say yes - emphatically.
And if you’re me, you ignore virtually everything about it until a couple weeks before. Then begins the panic about what you signed up for and did you train enough and what do you need to pack and which ride will you do and what if your truck breaks down on your drive down and you don’t even make it to Arizona? To combat this spiral I methodically re-visited all of the resources related to RDJ. I referenced the pack list and made my own. I downloaded the routes on Ride with GPS and pondered which race I’d actually do. I took my truck to the shop and made sure everything was running smoothly. I called Sarah and asked her far too many questions knowing fully well that she’s too nice to say no. In the end I finished the 137 mile race with 10,354 feet of climbing in 13.09 hours of moving time, and I safely made it back home.
The route itself was hands-down the most difficult ride I’ve ever done (the route is being kept private as it utilizes private land and we want to respect their privacy). During the ride we scoped wildlife like tiny javelina pigs, badgers, rattlesnakes, and at one point I almost crashed my bike into a cow. But it was with the people I met that left a lasting impression. We hear about the profound kindness of strangers, but rarely do we open ourselves up to receive it. Literally minutes before we took off I asked a couple I had met the day before if I could ride with their crew, after realizing riding alone wasn’t something I felt comfortable doing. Left and right I was borrowing bags from Swift Industries, a multi-tool, a water bladder, and a LifeStraw. Don’t get me wrong, I packed and planned and packed again, but little things slip through the cracks and sometimes you need a little extra guidance.
At the 13.7 mile mark I got a flat. I couldn’t tell you what had caused it, but it was my very first tubeless flat and it had me sitting in the dirt brainstorming what to write about if I had bailed having ridden only 10% of a race. Some folks pulled up and asked how they could help. With teamwork Tsinni, AJ, Allison, Cami, and Levi bacon-stripped the puncture that I simply could not locate myself and we were off. The bacon strip held for the next 123 miles and I ended up sticking with most of this crew for the rest of the ride.
I arrived at RDJ alone, just me, my truck Wanda, and my bike Ralphie. Initially I had planned to ride by myself and later I realized why that would have been a genuinely horrible idea. Once the sun had finally set, we took a moment of pause at the summit of what we lovingly called Mt. Doom. I looked around at my companions and understood what the profound kindness of strangers really looks like. We had miles left to cover and a hefty descent ahead of us. I rarely mountain bike and of all the experience I’ve had with that I certainly have never done it in the dark. It was a harrowing moment of realization, but the rampant nerves never fully set in because I knew I had people who’d stick with me until the bitter end.
What’s most fantastic about an event like this is that you absolutely do not have to be an athlete.
Friends and family back home heard I was signed up for a race and they immediately imagined me - Tour de France style, lycra’d up, smashing pavement adorned in the most aerodynamic glasses you could think of, but that isn’t the case. Sarah assembled an event that is cohesive and inclusive. There are a number of different distances for which you could have signed up and there were varying degrees of skill and experience across the board.
I can’t speak much to what other races and biking events are like, but I see that Ruta del Jefe is particularly special. Though centered around a bike race, it is much more about community and education about a space that deserves life. The celebration of it all happens while riding your bike. Truthfully a weekend at RDJ left me with more than just the accomplishment of conquering the most brutal ride of my life.
It left me with a community, spanning all across the globe interwoven and bound by victories and shared memories.
As with most experiences I recommend that you take it all in and be present. Make friends with those strangers. Ask for help and in turn give it as you can. Savor the big things and find delight in the little moments. Participate in events like RDJ where joy and truth are at the forefront of conversation.
You might wonder if I’d do it again? Absolutely. Just next time I’ll pack more sunscreen.
