The Goat Sucker!

Beware of El Chupacabras!

The second weekend in October the last two years has been reserved for a trip to El Paso with the guys. The city of Juarez, Mexico puts on one of the biggest, baddest bike races you will ever attempt, called The Chupacabras. The race takes place on a Saturday, which gives us knuckleheads a chance to get away for the weekend and enjoy the road less traveled.


We packed up our bikes and belongings on Thursday afternoon in a rental van from Advantage. And I stress that it came from Advantage because of the fiasco that occurred at another place. After 45 minutes, we can safely conclude that you never want to rent from EZ Car rental. There was going to be nothing EZ about it! So under dark skies and rain, we packed up our bags and headed out West!


Friday morning proved to be a beautiful one in the high desert of El Paso. The city is nestled in a valley between mountain tops involved in the Franklin Range. This is a view up Redd Road in West El Paso where we were headed for a little pre-race bike ride. The clouds coming off the mountains that morning were phenomenal!


We spent a lot of time waiting on David during this ride. He decided he was there to win the race and was "saving his legs for tomorrow." This was a common sight for Kevin and Kevin during the ride. Always looking back to see where David was located now.


Clouds so close you could touch them! We were headed up that hill, but the clouds were much further away! After struggling to find an entrance to the trail system, we finally were on our way towards the best feature in town. The Altar!


Kevin is such a show off!


Puddin Pass. David finally walked enough to catch up with us. Not sure where this is in relation to other passes encountered during the race and ride, but it seemed like a great photo op!

We finished up the ride with a fantastic downhill run from the top led by Kevin, aka FacePlant. He discovered this little gem last year while I walked out a blown Python. I was very happy to be able to accompany him down the hill this time! Upon arrival back to the van, the phone rings and its none other than Don Booker. He was hungry for some lunch and wanted us to join him.

Don was staying on the East Side of El Paso, so it took us a few minutes to find him. But my was it worth it. On our way to Jaxson's, great food by the way, we run into none other than Captain Caveman!

Now I don't know about you, but Captain Caveman was a personal favorite of mine when I was a young lad. The mere thought of meeting him in El Paso made me giddy like a school girl.

After lunch, we joined Don and some others to ride from their hotel across the border. Friday of race weekend does require one serious matter. Picking up the race packet. We rolled the five or so miles down the hill to the International Border Crossing known as the Free Bridge. This was our entry/exit point to Mexico for the weekend. We had a lazy uneventful ride into Mexico and back out. Almost! I flatted a couple of miles from the hotel. The beauty of Stan's sealant saved the day though. After hitting the rear tire with some CO2, the sealant worked its magic and I was able to ride on home.

Friday night dinner takes place at Bella Napoli on the West side of El Paso. We joined other bikemojo folks from around the state of Texas for dinner. Great food, great service and great people make for a fun time. The carb loading done that night was great! We were going to need it the next morning.

Saturday morning is Race Morning. Of course, race is a very relative term. My personal expectations were very low headed into the event. I had lost a lot of training time over the months of August and September, so I was in rally mode more or less. I knew that Kevin would be more than happy to ride along with me at whatever pace we chose. We had breakfast tacos and headed for the border crossing once more.

As we dropped into Juarez off the Free Bridge, there was a line of taxis waiting to take folks wherever they wanted to go in the city. We were rolling on bikes and had no need for their service. One of the drivers had his stereo turned up and sound effects blaring to mark the day. As we came pass, you could hear the howl of the Chupacabras! We rolled on to El Stadio Olympico de Benito Juarez for the start of the race. The Chupacabras is one of the largest cycling events in all of Mexico. There are somewhere over 2000 participants who line up on Saturday morning.

This bunch wanted to kick some gringo booty!

Since it is a mass start, it is basically organized chaos until the pack reaches the levee of the Rio Grande River. It starts to string out while the pack settles into a rhythm of the ride. I decided to ease into this pace this year after going out way too hard last year. Kevin stuck to my wheel and we started to work our way up through the string of riders. I was able to grab onto a wheel of another gringo in this melee and managed to drop Kevin. While spinning along at a nice pace, I picked up the other Kevin who grabbed on to my wheel for the ride.

Wheel sucking is generally considered bad in cycling circles. Everyone is supposed to do their part, but this was different. This was a 62 mile race and I was trying to conserve as much energy as possible for the desert. The guy in the front of the pace line never wavered and I managed to ride his draft for the first 20 to 25 miles of the race while we labored around Juarez. Kevin and I passed David somewhere in the first five miles. He didn't look good and couldn't grab a hold of the train. This was the last I saw of him, until around mile 40 or 45.

After hitting the East end of Juarez and moving very rapidly through some ranches and a water park parking lot, we headed back to the West. Along the levee in the reverse direction from before. I was ready to settle back into the pace until we hit the far West end of Juarez. But the promoters had a different idea this year. They dumped us off the levee and sent us down onto a singletrack section that ran right along the bank of the river. It was a giant sandy mess. I managed to stay attached to the anonymous rider in front of me and Kevin stayed on my wheel as well. We were flying. Passing people. My legs were feeling great. When we rolled back past the stadium, I was in much better shape than last year. I knew we were pretty far forward in the pack, but I did not truly have a solid idea of exactly where we stood.

After passing the stadium, you continue along the river until reaching the West end of Juarez. There is a section which involved railroad tracks. Kevin and I got separated here. After this piece, the race turns up through the cities and heads into the high desert mountains Southwest of Juarez. The land of the Chupacabras.

Passing through the city, you go through what are some of the meekest homes and poorest neighborhoods you can imagine. The folks of the city come out and cheer you on. The kids line up and ask for high fives. They don't understand that my bike is worth more than all of their worldly possessions put together. It is a reprieve for them. A momentary escape from the world they live in everyday. Even though you are laboring up the road, a smile, a wave and a high five really make you feel great!

The halfway point of the race comes at the Stone Jesus. I have no idea of the name of the statue that sits on a mesa to the Soutwest of the city, but it serves as an aid station and check point for the racers. The volunteers are helpful and very friendly. They provide you with whatever you want, as long as they have it. I rolled through and gathered a banana and some powerade and headed off to the mountains and arroyos. This time around, no cramps and Kevin and I had hooked back up and were riding together. I was feeling strong!

This particular section of the race is my favorite. It is classic desert mountainbiking. Everything has thorns in the desert. The rocks are sharp. The penalty for failure can be very high. Fortunately, I enjoy this kind of riding. Bombing down double track in loose gravel is a rush and the climbs don't seem to hurt nearly as much. I was taking in the scenery and Kevin and I were able to converse some. I was taking my electrolyte tabs and they were working. We struggled on to the first hike a bike section.

Their are three sections in the race that are generally considered hike a bikes. This is where the trail becomes unridable and you are forced to push the bike up the trail. The first one was fairly easy. I took a quick breather at the top and Kevin labored on. Still no sign of David. I start to wonder what happened to him, but firmly believe he wasn't far behind. I push on. The second hike a bike section hurts me. It is an arroyo that is a bear to climb. The loose rocks make for tough hiking in bike shoes. Again, I take a break at the top. When I rolled through the aid station at the bottom, I hear them call out Tres Cien y Triente. I was in the top 330 at mile 37.

The descent down the back of the arroyo is a fun one. It proceeds through washes and creek beds. The twinge of a cramp started to creep in during this section. I was passing a lot of people. But I get to a point where a cramp takes over my left hamstring. I stop and get off the bike and stretch. I was able to work it out and take more electrolyte tabs. That is the last cramp of the race fortunately.

I know what's coming. I know King Kong is looming. But I can't remember how far out it is from me. We head up a small arroyo to a small chapel. There I am sprinkled with holy water and decide to stop and drink. David rolls up and says hi. He finally regains me around mile 40. I sit on his wheel for a while as we toil through the desert. I'm finally starting to feel the lack of preparation in my legs. I'm hanging on, but not feeling great. Then, my only mechanical of the race happens. I shifted to an easier cog in the rear and the chain skipped off the cassette. It logged in between the cassette and freehub body. It takes me a good three minutes to pull it out and David is gone. We then hit King Kong.



I hate this thing. I spot David a few places in front of me and think I could likely catch him. That all changes when I start the ascent up. It beats me down walking up the mountain. I want to die. Right there in the desert. No mas! About 2/3rds up the mountain I decide enough is enough. I sit down and drink fluids I so desperately needed. Mike Rheyer, another Dallas rider, passes me and asks if I'm ok. I tell him to go on. I'm just enjoying the view. I finally summon the energy and finish off the task of climbing the mountain. I watched probably fifty people walk past while I was sitting there.



As you can see the view from the top is pretty nice. I stopped over to the side and took a whiz. I pissed on King Kong because it pissed me off! I start down the tricky descent. The ride down makes it worthwhile. Extreme technical downhill was the payoff. I actually passed a couple folks on the descent. It was probably stupid of me, but I was tired of descending so slowly. I'm much better at the downhill portion of this task than the up!

I skipped the aid station at the base of the mountain. I headed off the jeep roads headed back to Juarez. This section is all about pucker value. You can go as fast as your nerves will allow. The gravel is loose and the hills steep. I was probably in the 30 mph range passing lots of folks who thought I was nuts. Pushing the limits of myself and the bike. I wanted to get back to the start. Bad!

For me, the trip into town was uneventful. I was not passed while motoring back down to the levee. It is a wonderful feeling having all the traffic stopped for you and people cheering you on back into town. Si Se Puede they cried. I was feeling the vibe. Once I got back to the levee and realized I had a file mile stretch of flat into a headwind, my spirit kind of broke. I settled into a manageable pace given my lack of fitness for this section. I passed a couple of more folks and ended up letting one person go around me.

I finally arrived back at the stadium. I could see the finish line. Locals cheering. I arrived at the finish chute and was handed a finishers card. Place number 387 it said. I did a double take. That is approximately 300 places better than last year. It also means, I earned the coveted jersey.



As I exited the chute, I asked a volunteer what time it was. Three oh Two pm he said! Six hours even for the 62 mile race. That was my target!! I had cut an hour off of last year's time, even with the additional sections of trail added in. I couldn't believe it. Kevin had finished about twenty minutes a head of me David about 12. I had met the Chupacabra in the desert and won!

Kevin finally finished up the race after we sat and had tacos and told stories. He was defeated upon arrival. But for the other three of us, life was grand. We picked up our awards and headed back across the bridge to our home away from home for the weekend. A shower probably has never felt so good!

Saturday night was spent at a friend's parent's house. They were gracious enough to have us all over and enjoy dinner together. We turned in very early! It was fun to trade stories and make fun of one another. I'm not sure who was responsible for preparing the food, but it was fantastic!

Sunday was the return to DFW. The nine hour drive is a beating. Especially when you are sore from the event. We all ate pickles to replace the salts lost the day before. We probably looked like a bunch of pregnant women. But no trip to El Paso is complete, without a trip to Lucy's.



The fine ladies of Lucy's even opened up a half hour early for a bunch of gringos from Dallas. We sat at the counter and enjoyed a big plate of juevos y chilaquilles. Delicious!

The odometer read 1350 miles upon return. It included a weekend of fun with great people and the captain caveman sighting. The desert will challenge you. It will change you. I feel better now.