Once more we took the lonely road over the Morredero pass and descended into the the lost world of La Cabrera. Here there be mountains and Truchillas and another offbeat race full of wacky racers. We all piled into Isaac the engine’s Citreon, me, mad dog Jorge, Oscar and another fellow from the cement factory. After an hour and a half of twisting and turning, bouncing and bumping we all piled out again. I always prefer to do the driving if I’m taking this particular road, otherwise I get seasick. On this occasion I was very close to throwing up and still felt nauseous half way up Pico Vizcodillo.
The traditional straight up-straight down route had been modified and in a way that suited the roadrunners. The first part was the same, next there was a new section of ever so slightly rocky crest where the snow still lingered and the mist steamed up my glasses. Then we descended to a pass, crossed the road and took some very unattractive trails across the other side of the Truchillas valley. But the organizers had kept a surprise in store near the end and this redeemed the circuit in the eyes of some. We were suddenly directed off the edge of the trail, down a near vertical firebreak that was thankfully soft underfoot, along a swampy section of thick mud and then right through the River Truchillas to the finishing line.
21 kms (23k said the nice man with the GPS) and that was quite enough thank you very much.
This race marked the return of Pedro the lumberjack, a legend in his own back yard. Pedro works for the local mafioso, a coal mining entrepreneur who through shady dealings, euro-subsidies, ecological terrorism and all-round crookedness makes huge profits from apparently unprofitable businesses. I shan’t say more should I end up encased in concrete at the bottom of the reservoir. Anyway, Pedro plies his trade lumbering for the said empresario in the hills which surround his village and much of the timber is used to support the tunnels and galleries that pass underneath vast areas of upper Bierzo and Laciana. Pedro’s been out of action recently due to (work related) injury but at Truchillas our man showed up in a pair of red, cut off trackie bottoms which had all the appearance of being hacked down to size with a lumberjack’s axe. He claimed a lack of fitness but still finished a respectable 26th against some of the very best mountain runners and was even seen smoking a crafty fag to celebrate his comeback in the paella-fest afterwards.
The photos include the post-race paella at the back of ye olde village petrol station, Pedro the lumberjack attacking the fire-break and Bierzo Baggie running through the river.
Next race .. “the Aquilianos.” Please tell me if this is getting repetitive… (err, I like repetitive).
The all new all new training diary
