The bike trip

4-9-12

This last week was semana santa.  I joined 3 other volunteers for a multi-day mt.bike ride in the mountains in the center of the country.  Paul, Justin, Will and I set out early from Paul’s house and headed west.  We started out on asphalt following along a fast flowing river, winding up into the mountains, looking across the valley at terraced farms and forests running up the hills.  The further away from Jarabacoa we headed the more remote it became.  We had lunch in Manobao, and from there the road turned to dirt.  We finished the day by climbing hard to the top of a mountain overlooking the valley on the other side and the little town of Ciénaga.  We descended into the valley, rode through a small river and into Ciénaga.  Five minutes after arriving it began to rain.   We spent the night at a visitor’s center for those climbing Pico Duarte.  It was located next to a river and surrounded by forest.  The guard there was nice enough to loan us sleeping bags and mattresses, and we found a little comedor to cook us up some rice and beans and fried chicken.   We played some cards and slept well in the fresh air coming through the open-sided building. 

            The next day we set out early and instantly were confronted with the mountains.  The climbs were steep, wet, and full of loose rock.  After about 20-30 minutes of climbing we came across a tall gate across the road, locked of course.   I checked for the keys at a house about 100 yards up a steep slope along side the road, no luck.  We then lifted the bikes above our heads and handed them over the fence.  This fence would be the last piece of civilization that we would see for the next 4-5 hours.  The washed out, wet, steep road was horrendous, but the views were absolutely incredible.  Mountains upon mountains filled with pine forest and streams.  It was such a pleasant change from the flat, dusty, dirty batey where I live.  Will and Justin had to walk up the majority of the climbs.  Paul only had to walk a few.  I managed to make all the climbs except a 30 yard section that was so steep I couldn’t keep the front wheel down, and the back one was spinning out.  I don’t think I have ever spent so much time in granny gear on one ride.  Around 2pm we finally encountered a long hard descent coming out in a small valley.  There we got lost twice, rode through a few streams, cleaned off the bikes, and finally found the correct route out, naturally going back up.   After quite some time climbing we all started to run out of water, and Paul brought out the iodine tablets, filling up a bottle in a small stream.  The water had so much silt in it, it looked like weak coffee.  Luckily, we came across a house before we had to result to drinking the runoff water.  From there we started to descend again, coming out in a valley full of farms of all sorts.  We stopped momentarily in the small town, and then started climbing out of the valley.   After a half hour or so we reached a point overlooking the city of Constanza.  From there it was a hard descent down to the town.  The road had widened out and the curbs were full of loose sand.  Will missed a turn and went flying off his bike.  Luckily he was taught in the Marines how to roll and escaped with only a few small scratches.  (All good mt. biking trips should have a little blood.) We arrived around 4:45pm.  It began to rain shortly after that.  We spent the night in a hotel.  The next day the three of them wanted to rest so we spent another night in Constanza.  Since it was Good Friday the town was just about shut down.  We had problems finding places to eat.  On Saturday, we set out from Constanza around 9:30am and rode up out of the valley.  We gained 1000m of altitude in about 3 hours.  Around 1:30pm we came across an eco-lodge.  The owner’s daughter is married to a friend of Paul’s.  We stopped to say hello and just as we were about to leave it started pouring.  It rained so hard that it wasn’t just a matter of getting soaked, but also whether we could ride safely on such bad roads.  The owner offered us a cabin to stay in, so under the circumstances we accepted.  The cabin was huge and very nice.  It was quite chilly so we sat around the fireplace and played cards at night.  Will tried his best to make something to eat out of what little he could find in a colmado a few kilometers away.  He tried making a spaghetti sauce out of tomato paste and garlic.  I just threw a poached egg on my noodles instead; life sustaining, but not gourmet.  We set out Sunday morning early and continued climbing until we reached 2500 meters altitude.  From there we rolled up and down hills for a while and eventually started encountering longer downs.  The road was so washed out and full of rocks, bumps and loose gravel that it was not possible to go too fast.  My breaks had taken quite a beating heading down into Constanza that now there was very little grab (or break pads) left.  The descending with all its bumps etc, seemed harder on my body than the climbing.  We were threatened by rain when we passed the pyramids that Trujillo built to commemorate having made the road between San Jose Ocoa and Constanza.  Luckily we out road the storm and stayed dry once again.  We pulled into San Jose Ocoa at 3:15pm.  Here I said goodbye to my riding partners and took off on my own. They were planning to catch a bus from there to the capital.  I needed to get 28km up the road to Cruce de Ocoa to catch a bus heading back to my site.  I wasn’t sure how long that would take me considering there were still a few mountains in between the two places.   I was worried I might miss the last bus heading my way so I pushed myself and rode hard, and arrived at Cruce de Ocoa in one hour, covered in sweat, but once again, just beating the rain.  From there I threw the bike on a guagau and returned home.  It was a great ride, great weather, and great company.