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The top local finisher in the 10km race

I ended up spending an extra day in Guachochic, as this weekend turns out to be the annual ultramarathon and surrounding festival here. The original plan was to stay and watch the start at noon yesterday, and then ride for the afternoon, but my faulty spanish must have misinterpreted the sign I saw, as the ultramarathon started early this morning (at about 5:30 am or so).

Instead, yesterday was comprised of local native dances and songs, a 10km race, a bunch of short races for the kids (starting at age 2 on up), and lots and lots of eating and people watching.

Juarachis

This is the first time I’ve felt really comfortable taking lots of people photos, as there was enough of a crowd, and enough other cameras that I didn’t draw too much undo attention. There were lots of Taurumara watching and participatingi n the festivities, many in their traditional dress (including men, which I hadn’t seen before). Many were even wearing their juarachis, which are sandals made from tire rubber and leather strapping. They’re apparently very comfortable (provided you have a big enough callus on your big toe), and the Taurumara, who are known for their long distance running, have set records in them for such races as the Leadville 100.

Mark

I met Mark, a 54 year-old Denverite who came down for the 63km race (the longest is a 100km race). I hope I’m as fit as he is when I’m 54. He said he has friends down here, who suggested he come down for this race. He said they gave him a pair of juarachis, which he’s been training in, but he says he hasn’t built up enough calluses yet to race in them. He told me more about the race itself. Apparently, it goes for 17km or so out to Sinforosa, which is relatively flat, before dropping down into the canyon, which is incredibly steep, and you need to be with other people to get up and down the Taurumari ladders. He said that the real race portion is just out to Sinforosa and back, as they form groups of 5 which you must stick with when you’re in the canyon. He said that they were warned to make sure not to step on the local’s marijuana plants, and not to break the goat gates when they jump over.

We talked to several other racers in mixed spanish and english, and everyone seems most stressed about having adequate water. It seems most people are planning on carrying several liters, and Mark’s friend apparently spent all of yesterday packing a burro loaded with water down into the canyon for all the racers.

The dances and songs yesterday were pretty interesting. Apparently there is a festival in November which is much more focused on dancing, and draws major tourist crowds. The dance troup consisted of mostly children, some of whoms participation Mark incitfully guessed took a fair amount of bribing. One boy in particular looked like he’d rather be just about anywhere else than there.

The dances, songs, and costumes all showed some degree of spanish influence, presumably from the Conquistadors. Particularly striking was the violin player. Mark said that there’s a local indian that lives int he canyon that is respected world wide as a violin maker, and has been invited to play with the vienna orchestra. Apparently the town is in the process of trying to raise enough money for his plane ticket.

A mix of old and new?

The races yesterday were all pretty entertaining. The 10km was very serious, with a wide range of contestants, from relatively young kids up to old men. A handful of local girls ran, complete in full traditional dresses and flimsy looking plastic sandals. There was one particularly striking old man dressed in lycra tights and a shawl. Still not quite clear what his deal was, as he was far and away the only person dressed like that. There was also a handful of serious, hardcore runners, including two Africans, one of whom won by a fair amount, the other who placed quite high.

All geared up and ready to go

The kids races were a lot more laid back. They were organized into different lengths for different age groups, starting at 10 meters for what looked like 2 or 3 year olds. It went on up to what looked like 12 or so, and was a fairly long sprint down the street. The parents were quite into it, vaguely reminicent of dog races, standing at the end, waving bribes of balloons and bags of M&Ms for the younger kids.

The lead dancer getting a little help from the town drunk (who very clearly knew how to dance quite well)

All in all, it was a wonderful small town festival, full of good humor on everyone’s part, even when the town drunk decided to join the dancers for the finale.