Rapa Nui

After my beloved New Zealand, even the tamest country in South America gave me a bit of culture shock. The minute I stepped off the plane I knew things were different here. Hordes of taxi drivers surrounded me as soon as I passed through customs, and I don´t know- maybe it had something to do with crossing the international date line ( I spent the entire day of June 4 in Auckland, Clinton drove me to the airport that evening, and after a 12 hour flight when I arrived in Santiago at 2 pm it was June 4 all over again), but I just wasn´t my usual smart traveler self. I got money from the ATM thinking it was about $100. A man nearby asked if I was looking for the airport shuttle and I allowed him to escort me there (on a backpacker budget- when someone carries your luggage they usually aren´t just doing their job). I asked how much for the shuttle and he said $12 US; 60,000 pesos. So I got in the shuttle, which was really a private car, handed over 60,00 pesos and off we went. As I sat there my brain finally kicked into action and I realized, very much to my dismay, that I had just handed the man not 12 dollars like I thought, but $120! I was furious. Not so much at the driver (but I did wonder how dare he have all of these Jesus and Marys in his car when he clearly wasn´t abiding by christian principles by taking advantage of a sweet young woman), but at myself- what an idiot I was to be so gullible! I let him drop me off, got my luggage out then confronted him but of course there was nothing I could do- he just shrugged his shoulders and said that the $12 fare was if I had paid at the ticket counter. I was really upset but at least I did make it safely to my hotel. It was just money that I lost- it really could have been much worse.

Things got better from there- Rapa Nui (Easter Island) was stunning. My flight was the next day at 8:30 am and after an utterly sleepless night in Santiago (possibly worst case of jet lag I have ever had!) I was relieved to stay in one place for a few days. And actually I think the jet lag helped to add to the mystique of the place- it just felt magical to me. I recently read something where the author suggested that perhaps we are just living in a dream and on Rapa Nui I really felt that everything could, indeed, just be a dream.

I rented a bike for the 5 days that I was there (best one I´ve rented yet- it actually fit, everything worked, at least when I first got it, and it was pretty light), and I did all of the sightseeing I possibly could. Rapa Nui is quite small, 117 square kilometers, but there is a lot to see- a couple of volcanoes, dozens of Moai (statues) and rock carvings too. I even got to take a dip in the ocean at the white sand beach on the northern end of the island.

The real highlight of my Rapa Nui trip though was the mountain bike race. I woke up Friday morning to a triathalon happening in the middle of town- I was quite surprised- I had no idea that it was going on except that I had seen some guys with bikes on my flight from Santiago. Well, apparently I chose the right time to go because not only was there a trialathon and a marathon the day after I left, but the day I was leaving  was the annual mountain bike race and I had enough time to do it  before my flight (well, sort of...)

When I asked the race promoter if I could participate he said no problem, just come and sign up at 7:30. He said that it would cost US $7.50 but let me tell you Chilean Castillano is nothing like the Español that I (sort of) speak. Anyway, I figured that I could sign up at 7:30, get my stuff together, check in early for my flight when the airport opened at 9:30, get to the race by 10, race the 35 kilometers of fire road, and be done by 12 so I could be at the airport by 12:20 (when I checked in she said last call for boarding would be at 12:40). Pleeeenty of time, right?

As you might imagine, that´s not at all how it all went. I did make it to the airport by 9:30, rode my bike there with my backpack(good warm up), checked in, and headed back to the start line. Oh yeah, when he said to be there at 7:30 to sign up, he meant the night before. And the race, instead of costing $7.50, was going to be $150. My jaw dropped when I heard this and I was very sad because I knew I wouldn´t be able to do it. That was just NOT in my budget. I asked why it was so much and he was pretty offended- he said it was because it was an INTERNATIONAL race and they had to bring all of their equipment, etc. I asked if it was OK for me to ride anyway and much to my surprise he said fine, but made it very clear that if anything happened they wouldn´t help me at all. I agreed and the race was on.

We rode through town to the base of one of the islands volcanoes. Right from the start I was pleasantly surprised at the pace- I was hanging in with the leaders with not too much effort. Things stayed about the same going up the volcano but with the recent rains the clay fire road had a thin layer of slime coating it, making it hard at times to stay on the bike even climbing. I made a couple of friends on the way up- when I gave them a hard time for not wearing helmets they responded with, "somos indios de Rrrapa Nui", and that pretty much summed it up. When I decided I was going to do the race I went on a mission to find a bike helmet and the only one in the whole town was a child´s one. Luckily I have a tiny head and I was able to wear it although my forehead was a bit squashed.

At the top of the climb we made a u-turn and came down the same way we went up. I was pleased to see that I was in 5th place- I wasn´t even riding too hard because I knew we had a long way to go. The thing about being out of shape is that I can still ride hard if I want but I just don´t last very long. After an hour or an hour and a half I´m pretty much cooked, totally exhausted. I took my time on the descent- it was all I could do to keep the bike upright. When I got going too fast I had to head for the bushes to slow down- braking was extremely dangerous, because once the brakes were on into a full slide I would go. My method worked for the most part, I only ended up laying in the bushes once, no harm done, just a few bruises and scrapes.

After the descent the course went to the east side of the island, torture in the 20-30 mph winds. I was alone for most of the time- caught one of the indios and tried to teach him to work with me but he just couldn't hang on. After all, he must have only been 14 or something, a wee tot on a crappy bike in board shorts and sandals but pretty strong nonetheless. Eventually I was caught by a couple of the "international" guys- I was pretty happy that for half of the race the only guys ahead of me, except for one, were indios and the geeky mountain bikers all kitted out with their flash bikes were getting shelled.

But it was good to have a wheel to hang on to and I was glad to have witnesses to one of the funniest moments in my racing history. The whole course was fire road but we had had torrential downpours throughout the past few days, causing huge puddles, mud bogs, and ruts. I was cruising through them, taking my usual line of right through the middle of the puddle- on most occasions it is the fastest way through- there tends to be hard packed mud at the bottom of the water instead of the gooey mud on the side. I was watching the guys around me struggle through the mud, having to get off of their bikes, and just as I was starting to think about how rad I was cause don´t you know I´m a cross racer and I´m built for these conditions, and I would show these wimpy mountain bikers how to do it, I headed full speed into one of the small lakes that covered the road and stuck my front wheel straight into a giant hole. I flipped over the handlebars and landed face down, fully submerged in another one of the giant hidden holes that definitely weren´t supposed to be there, my  bike on top of me. Once I got untangled all I could do was laugh. The guys who saw the whole thing were pretty worried about me but I was fine and I thought it pretty ironic that just a few weeks back I had paid big money to have a mud bath in Rotorua. This one was free. But I was totally soaked, from head to toe.

It was just after that that the course passed through Ahu Akivi, one of the island´s attractions that I had missed during my sightseeing- seven huge Moai on a hill all looking proudly out to sea. In my few days on Rapa Nui I came to love those Moai- in a place in the middle of the Pacific Ocean where I knew no one the Moai were my friends. I made sure I visited them several times a day and I would just sit there with them, totally in awe. I didn´t stop for my Ahu Akivi friends, after all I was racing, but I did slow down and have a good long look. What a treat.

It was all down hill from there- sort of. An hour and a half into the race the wind and the small climbs just about did me in. When I was passed by yet another guy I found out that it was noon and we still had about 20 minutes of riding left. I was supposed to be back by noon so that I could get to the airport by 12:20 and not miss my flight. And there I was, totally spent (my food and water was in my backpack and I didn´t want to take the time to stop and get it out), my rear derailleur totally nonfunctional, and facing a horrible head wind. I was stressing hard. I saw the plane come in for landing and figured that if it was just landing they still had to disembark, clean the plane, and get everyone boarded. I knew I had some time, but it was not a good feeling to know that I was cutting it that close and that I actually might not make it.

As I was cursing myself for being so irresponsible and wondering what I was thinking when I thought I could do the race and catch my flight, I rounded a bend and there at last was the little town of Hanga Roa. I got on the main road and came across a taxi cab who was waving and cheering me on. I stopped him and asked if he would follow me to town where I´d return the bike, then take me to my hotel so I could fetch my handbag then drop me at the airport. And that´s actually how it went. I went by the finish area and shook hands with a couple of the guys that beat me and I was on my way. It was 12:20.

Somehow, I made it. I reckon it was a small miracle but miracles do happen. I was really lucky that everything fell into place- what if I had gotten a flat, or the bike had some other issue? When the promoter said I could ride without paying he made it very clear that I was to have no support- no ambulance if I hurt myself, no support car to pick me up, nothing. But it was my lucky day. I made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare- I was even able to wash up and change out of my soaked clothes before we boarded.

There´s a good chance I will be or was on Chilean national TV- they were filming out there and although I was not officially racing the camera was on me quite a bit- Mr. promoter probably won´t be too happy about that but at least I tried to be respectful- I was sweet to all of the support people and said hello and thank you all the way. I didn´t even cross the finish line, either (I guess years of poaching the Sea Otter has taught me something- at least this time I was given permission!)

Most people go to Rapa Nui to see the world´s "biggest open air museum" that it is and that is enough in itself- it is spectacular- but how lucky was I do be able to do one of my favorite things in such an amazing place? And to even make my flight when it was all over. See, things just work out. And now, just as I finish writing this, lunch is served on Lan Chile flight 842. Salmon and potatoes and spinach. Yuuuuuuum. Might just be the best airplane food I´ve ever had!

(Yes, I did write the blog in the air but I am putting it online on the ground. Lan Chile is the best airline I have flown but they still don´t have in-air computer and internet access...yet!)