Ecuador Day 15: Like Riding A Bike

Just like riding a bike.

If only everything came back to us as quickly as riding a bike. Foreign words you once knew would instantly be re-remembered, cuisines your mother once showed you how to cook as a child would taste like she had measured and put together the dish herself, and I'd personally never loose another game of snooker.  

Since leaving japan two weeks ago, I have not even looked at a bike seriously. Back home, not only would I commute daily to work, but just about everywhere else as well. I even did it in the rain that I hate. And for the breaks in between work, friends, and reading, I would ride my bike up and around the green mountainous overlooking the Pacific Ocean to my left and the Usa city lake to my right. I've never really made a habit of tallying exactly just how far I would go, a good guesstimation is as good as any other. Anywhere from two to three hours a day I say - and that is much, much more than the big goose egg I've been throwing up these last fifteen days. You could say I'm getting fat, but its more of the lack of cardiovascular exercise that I miss. My energy is in a funk.

That's why I was so excited to hear that Quito holds a very special car free day that me and Sis are excited to cycle through. Each Sunday, a major street that cuts through the middle of the new and old city is shut down to cars, buses, and motorcycles, thus insuring that the energetic public come out in force. Families take the kids out on training wheels, youngsters take their dates out for a change in exercise, there are runners and joggers in tight pants and bright shoes, and older folks walk briskly more along the side walk than the street, but they're out there. And I also happened to see my favorite event, my absolute favorite spectacle to see again and again no matter what country I happen to find myself in. I get a personal sadistic satisfaction from watching the colored spandexed weekend warriors cyclists riding aerodynamic carbon frames...get dropped by a heavy steel framed skinny kid with jeans, flip flops, and a ten year old hat.

You couldn't get me on a bus quicker to Quito that morning, I was ready to ride. 

"Woke up this morning, smiling with the rising sun. Three little birds....." Just the perfect morning today.

There is a lot of outside construction happening in the neighborhood we are living. Houses and corner stores are being built, sure. But there are also additions of trees and cemented center islands all through the middle, up and down the street. The sound doesn't really pose a problem during all of this, there is actually little at all since most of the time the construction here is done completely by hand and thumb. The real annoyance are the scraps of material. Small cement blocks used to pattern the grounds of streets can be found in random mounds all through the way, sometimes arranged nicely, often in dismay. (We've taken to stack a few up and use them as improvised seats as we wait for the bus). There are also massive mounds of dirt, stacked higher than two meters, kicking up grey and smoggy sand storms down the mountain side valley when the wind comes down - which is to say, several times a day. 

I'm painting a worse picture than what is actually found there. The kids love to climb these mountains of dirt that mysteriously pop up and disappear from days to days - and who wouldn't? As a matter of fact, my father and I commented on this very observation at the same time one morning. If I was with a kid that didn't want to climb a mounds of earth, then I'd say there is something wrong with that kid. Forget the insistence on getting kids in car seats, lets get these kids playing in the mud!

And from the piles of dirt, dust, and mud that accumulate in the middle or sides of the road, sometimes so big that they prevent cars from making it down the road entirely, there grows these wondrous white and purple flowers quickly.  

I like El Quinche, the little big city just a ten minute bus ride outside our country home. No matter how many times I kick around there, shops I visit, and restaurants I try, there is always something new to see and smell. Here, a woman sells her litter of baby chickens, a buck twenty five each. A small investment for a dinner three months down the road. Not to mention all that comes along with a grown chicken besides the meat: feathers for a pillow, beaks for guitar picks, etc... 

Knowing that we would be in for a full day of cycling activities, Gabs and I motioned to take in some serious munchies for energy before the bus ride into Quito. Since Gabi is on a wheat-free diet, and me by proxy, we eat a lot of food made by verde, the green banana substitute in everything from tortillas to empanadas.  

You know, it struck me as I was reliving this day, just why we, in the land of the supposed free USA, can't eat on the buses?  Its an certain realization we all come to when living for a time outside of the circles we make. Take for example being in any relation, or just in general; the longer you stay apart, be it from the States or an old lover, the more you can accurately tell apart all the bull shit you thought loved. 

I don't hate cars or take any extreme position such as, but I do like cycling down paved streets uninterrupted.  Speaking of which, here is a long uninterrupted straightaway found rare in the mountainous region of Quito. Technically the city rests in a valley, though that is not to say there are no hills or steep inclines. Ha! And don't forget the altitude. Quito is not built at sea level, not even close.  

Obviously one of the added benefits to cycling with a partner are all the cool full body pics they can take. 

Staying happy with my sister. The last time we saw each other was in Japan, and now the legend continues. Gabs is a good sister to have around, being the expert mechanic she is, since the bikes that we rented were shot. My bearings were almost falling out, my front end was all wobbly, Gabi's crank was uneven, and the brakes were no good - bad news for all the hills we were to face that day. We made our primitive adjustments and tried to fix the problem as best we could before carrying on. If you find yourself along these lines, always remember ABC - Air (in the tires), Brakes, and Chain. If you cover your ABC's then you'll at least make it through the day. Reading all the exposed teeth in the photo, we had a good time.

Cycling for the good part of the day lead us to the end of the track, all the way up that hill to the resting statue of the guardian angle. But...we didn't make it that far. We, instead, rationed that the pieces falling off our bikes would just barely guarantee the ride home as it is. Putting out the energy it would have taken to mount the final stretch above us and touch the statue waiting at the top, as few people do in any case, would have felt grate but instead we looked upon in awe and silently spoke those secret words each to ourselves, "Next time, baby. Next time..." 

An example of the old architecture that still remains a constant throughout the city streets in this part of Quito. It is the case that in other part of the this country, the general process for building a three storied house is to first build the rooms on the ground floor, build in preparation for the second and third, and then never getting around to building it. Indeed, there is so much unfinished construction in Ecuador that it can detract from some of the real bueauty found in the region. 

Here however, the local is complimented not only by the completed buildings, but by their wonderful colors and European balconies. It doesn't take much imagination to wonder at just how life proceeded down these corridors.

Departing from the blocked off road that was our lane for the day free of cars, big Sis and I turned uphill for just a bit, a steep bit, to find our way to this leering cathedral. The tip top points and cross atop the structure could be seen almost from anywhere in the city - and I am sure that was/is the point. Hundreds of years later, and the architect's plans still work, we were attracted to the giant palace and wanted to take a gander around.  

From within the belly...

And well, it just wouldn't be a complete day in Quito without the rain. After a full day of cycling, returning our bikes and grabbing a light bite to eat, Gabs and I decided to take a walk through the artist's park with the remaining two hours of daylight that remained. And we only just made it to the park when it began.

A few manageable drops at first, nothing to run around for. Then a little harder. We ducked under a giant tree for cover, hoping that the rain would wash through us quickly. When it didn't, we knew we were in a lot of trouble. There wasn't any cover in view and no storefronts to duck into. It looked like the trees were not enough for the families also hurdled under them, as some families braved the rain and decided to make a run for it. Then it really started to rain as they made a run for it. 

Not left with much options, we know that we couldn't stay where we were. Up ahead, there was the street, maybe we could catch a taxi we thought. We thought. But how to catch one? We would get soaked trying to flag one down. That's when we saw, way out into the distance, the smallest inkling of hope. A bus stop. It appeared to be covered, and at least not completely packed with people. It was a good run away, but the tree wasn't provide much shelter at this point either. So we shouldered our bags, put our heads down, and made the quickest run we could safely make through the hurting rain towards nothing a mirage in the distance.

Among the other people also taking care from the rain, we arrived wet and cold. There was room to stand up, but not much and the transparent plastic-like cover was already letting the water in. I don't think we were in much of a better situation. Gabi agreed. It was taxi time, damn the extra charge they would surely add on to get us out of here. So be it. And after a sixteen minute wait, a taxi that was not supposed to stop at the bus stops for passengers did so for us and our desperately wailing hands and pleading faces. To the nearest local coffee house we were off. 

That is were I took this picture to remind of the day, and to dry off as best we could as we waited for the rain. 


We were well received when we finally did make it home that night. It had been a full day and even though our father wanted Gabs and I to have so alone time to explore the city, his demeanor clearly stated that he was happy we were home and asked lots of questions about our day. And, it was good to once again be home with the family.

Goodnight. Love,
-A