Words and images are
courtesy of Colin Patterson, who competed in Guatemala from October 23 –
November 1, 2018. Prior to posting, minor edits did occur.
The air was cooler
and more crisp than you might think for a Central American country. Walking
down the maze of halls in our mountain-lodge style hotel, I tried to stretch
out my crushed legs from the previous day’s racing. Hoping to get warm, we boarded
the bus early.
It was day eight.
By this point, we had almost climbed the elevation of Mt. Everest during our
440 miles of racing. Departing the City of Quetzaltenango, we climbed, by bus,
to 7,600 feet, our starting point for the day.
Day eight, which
consisted of an uphill time trial, was not one of the stages that we feared. Most
of those had already passed. However, this stage was not going to be simple.
At sea level, this
stage would have been ideal for me, considering its flat sections, shallow
pitches in grade, and bits of gravel. However, with its conclusion at nearly
10,000 feet in elevation, I knew I’d be gasping for air.
At mile six of the
uphill time trial, I thought that I had been pacing myself well. My legs, on
the other hand, they were disagreeing. Then, I struck dirt, meaning five miles
and 1,500 feet of climbing were on tap. Pavement became pave, pave became
gravel. Abruptly, my remaining energy was fleeing, as I dodged basketball-sized
potholes and collided with rocks.
 |
Up, up, just a bit more up. |
To finish, I was
going to need to dig. Deep.
Then, it happened.
It happens to all competitive cyclists. Endless days of training, they flooded
my legs, reviving my energy. Flashing back to 32S13, our first Everjourney
adventure, I realized that I have conquered much more punishing backcountry
climbs. Remembering my excitement from 32S13, my gears clicked and ticked, as I
notched a few gears harder, pushing for the remaining miles.
As I consider my
time in Guatemala, the more I understand how this trip represents the true
meaning of Everjourney. Racing abroad allows us to explore areas and experience
cultures, rare opportunities that do not exist for most people.
 |
Communal interactions. |
In Guatemala, citizens
are magical and passionate about cycling.
On a daily basis, while
we were racing, streets were lined with people. Often, they were sporting indigenous
attire, while we were clad in colorful kit. Through every town, with its narrow,
pothole-filled streets, cheering was constant, clumps of confetti and buckets
of water were hurled, and fireworks were set off.
Right, fireworks
were set off, directly at our wheels.
 |
As seen from above, our peloton for the week. |
To say the
atmosphere was electric would be an understatement.
At the conclusion
of a day’s racing, with our energy stores sapped, citizens became fans, continuously
showing their support. At the finish, while trying force down a Super Cola or
Gallo Malta, we would be swarmed. Often surrounded by 15 minutes, we would talk
to the locals in broken Spanish, telling them where we traveled from, how much
we loved Guatemala, and the difficulties of racing.
While it was not
uncommon for our picture to be taken, or our signatures to be requested, I was
once handed a baby to hold for a photo. Passion.
 |
Colin Patterson, a man of the people. |
Beyond stage eight,
we had some time to explore locally. At this point, I had no idea where we were
in Guatemala. However, this was a poorer region.
Given our timing, a
massive farmer’s market had been assembled. Vendors lined both sides, as well
as the center, of the narrow, cobbled streets. This left us tiptoeing around seed
piles, vegetable displays, and woven cloth. Around a “parque central,” this
market spanned blocks in every direction.
 |
Farmer's market exploration. |
Every 20 feet we
were overwhelmed with another smell, maybe freshly baked bread, fish, tortillas,
or trash piles being ransacked by stray dogs.
 |
Action. |
With our time in
Guatemala coming to a close, the final awards and celebrations occurred in a
local stadium. We completed a celebratory lap, before collapsing, relieved to
have completed a brutal week of racing.
Continuing our
daily tradition of post-race photos and signatures, we soaked in the sun, while
watching the crowd carry the overall winner across the stadium. They danced and
chanted, while we reminisced on our time, thankful to be finished.
As Sean Bird once
said, “You ever think about how there are a lot of times when you go out riding,
and you don’t want to be riding in that moment. And you think of why you’re
doing it, and you realize it’s so you can do something like this. Like,
actually be able to do this…”
We ride, endlessly, so we may experience
adventures. This was one for the books.