Bike Century from Orange County to San Diego

Since being back in LA, the place that initially inspired me to get into cycling, I'd been wanting to do the LA to San Diego bike ride. 135 miles was a little daunting to someone who had never even done a century so I looked around. I found that the Orange County Wheelmen, a cycling group embarks on their annual "Amtrak Century'" leaving from the Irvine Amtrak Station all the way to San Diego.

 Up at 5am, I met Felix and Chi at the Irvine Metro station at 630. Unlike the map above, we cut directly from Irvine down to Laguna Beach through Laguna Canyon. It was a slight uphill starting out but about 10 miles of downgrade until the beach. The Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) was two lanes and pretty mellow in terms of traffic. It had a few nasty hills that I wasn't quite expecting, especially because I was riding my fixed-gear bike in single-speed mode.

Why bring a Fixie on a long ride like this? Well, it was pretty much my only option and having it as a single speed made it so I could at least rest my legs. Needless to say, I actually led the group on the first few sets of hills. It was once we warmed up on the flats that Felix and Chi started to leave me behind.

I was surprised by the amount of closed-lane bike paths available along the route AND our ability to follow them without getting lost. We picked one up just before Dana Point and pretty much stuck to bike paths or bike lanes the whole way down. The hills disappeared after San Clemente and we were left with a beautiful, easy ride down the Southern California Coast.

Well, until we hit US Marine Corps' Camp Pendleton, which people had warned us "you'll have to ride on the freeway." No such thing, we rode to the front entrance of Camp Pendleton, showed our IDs and they waved us through, letting us cycle on the main road through the base. There wasn't as much activity around the base as I had seen in previous drives to San Diego (I've seen Huey Choppers and APCs in training exercises), but it was cool enough just riding through the base.

Upon exiting the base at Oceanside, we were treated to 20 more miles of straight, flat, beachfront riding. We saw "The Hill" at Torrey Pines looming up ahead: 1.45 miles at a  6% to 7% grade. We'd been warned of this before. Compared to a few of the hills I've done in Colombia, this wasn't too bad, but I was on a single speed, 75 miles into a ride at the heat of the day was getting bad. I stopped after the first 200 feet and sucked down some water. I stayed behind Felix, standing up and sitting down every 10 seconds. Finally we made the top and rested, finishing all of our liquids.

On our way into San Diego, we were subjected to several more hills as a result of getting a little off course, but slowly but surely, we edged our way into the Gaslamp District  of San Diego at 5pm. Our total riding time was about 9 hours, though our time on the bikes was considerably less. After a few beers and some college football we grabbed some very authentic Mexican food and hopped on the Pacific Surfliner ($23 one way) towards Irvine.

Our bikes fit perfectly in the racks below and to make things even better, they had Arrogant Bastard Ale (San Diego's finest beer) in the galley. We reached Irvine at 10pm, full, happy, tired AND beaming about our first Century. My advice to anyone wishing to do this ride is to leave early enough and bring more liquids than you think you need. Maybe I'll be able to get a group together to do it next year!

South Central Bike Tour

Towards the end of my time living in LA, I began to  feel remorseful for all of the wonderful things in the area I hadn't yet taken the time to see. One of those was Watts Towers, a defining monument of local significance in South Central LA.

 

My friends Luke and Chris accompanied me as we biked from El Segundo into the heart of South Central. We cycled somewhat apprehensively as South Central has a rough reputation and us being on expensive bikes in a place we'd never been before. Before long we realized we were in the vicinity of the towers but lost. Suddenly, three thuggishly dressed guys approach the three of us on our bikes.

Thuggish1: Hey y'all lost or something?
Me: Yeah, we're trying to get to Watts Towers, it's close to here right?
Thuggish2: yeah its right down the street
Chris: down 112th or something right?
Thuggish2: no no, you don't want to take that way, 103rd can get you
there faster

As all of us (with serious interest!) begin to deliberate the most parsimonious way to Watts Towers, a police cruiser who observes the situation stops dead in the street and rolls down its window, all 6 of us look over at the cop for about a second and then get back to the situation at hand)

Thuggish2: yeah man, its just on the other side of the park
Me: Cool, thanks a lot guys, appreciate it
Thuggish1: Na man its cool y'all came to check it out, don't see too
many white dudes on bike around here especially
Luke: haha, yeah especially ones that look like us, have a good one!

Continuing to ignore the cop, the 6 of us part ways. I left out how my friend Luke has a "space bike" and resembles something of a Terry Gilliam character when riding; we got lots of funny looks in the residential areas.

In any case, my return to Watts Towers was even less eventful. This time I noted the general good condition of the side streets and was only gawked at when I rode by a school: "Hey are you a superhero or spaceman/take me to marvin the martian yo!" I rode back on Manchester by the LA Forum, a staple of Inglewood and LA, 30 miles round trip.

Mountain Kings

 "El Rey de las montañas" is what they call the most famous Colombian cyclist, Martin "Cochise" Rodriguez, who managed some incredible dominance of the Tour de France's mountain stages in the Sixties. Paisa cyclists have always had the edge in mountain stages, as cycling in Antioquia mandates the exploration (and consequent climbing) of its innumerable hills and peaks.

Elizabeth and I selected a route marked "easy" from a local cycling site, 95 km in total, but not the longest distance I've ever ridden. Basically, there are two ways to get to the Eastern plateau above Medellín, The Las Palmas Highway and the Medellín Bogota Highway. The former has a nefarious reputation for breaking wills as well as rupturing lungs as its 17 km climb twists and turns along one of the most beautiful views of the city. We opted for the MDE-BOG Hwy route due to its more gradual climb. Unfortunately, we opted to leave at midday, subjecting us to the harsh rays of the sun during our ascent.

Eliz and I had done hills in the area before, but nothing like this: 2 1/2 hours of solid climbing, with very few changes in the grade. Sweat was pouring out of us faster than we could ingest liquids. We saw some smarter cyclists who had made the ascent early in the morning enjoying the midday sun on their coast back down to Medellín. Every turn we took, I expected to see the summit, only to be dissapointed by another switchback, it was pretty miserable. At one point, after reaching a tunnel, we agreed that if we didn't reach the summit on the next turn, we would head back.

Sure enough we reached the top and had to pull over at a gas station to hydrate, as well as dry off some of our sweat that instantly chilled us as we started our descent onto the plateau (I stuffed a bunch of TP from the gas station into my jersey). We were rewarded with 20km of easy riding and beautiful sights from Guarne to Llanogrande, upon reaching the lake of La Fe, where we hit a significantly difficult uphill. After trying to unsuccessfully flag buses and trucks to take us up the last stretch, we came upon an antiques dealer with a truck willing to drop us off at the toll point, just half a km short of the great descent that is Las Palmas. (click for vid)

Las Palmas wasn't nearly as fun as it should have been, as it was already nighttime, it was cold and we were cautious heading down. We hit speeds I've never before reached on bike, that must have been at least 35-40 mph but I wasn't really able to properly enjoy it. My hands were cramping and losing circulation from the cold and braking, it was made clear that going up these hills was best early in the morning and going down was best enjoyed in the mid-day heat. We stopped for arepas and hot chocolate with cheese at the mirador, just to give ourselves a break.

Depsite our unpreparedness, I was really proud of what we accomplished, a ride harder than any either of us had ever attempted and experiencing what every real paisa cyclist has done: conquered las vuelta del Oriente.

The OG Paisa of Caldas

 I’m a big cycling enthusiast, so every Sunday, when the Medellín Ciclovia closes the main highway in addition to several important thoroughfares downtown, I’m on my bike. Riding with the general public is fun enough, but the real challenges begin in riding with the weekend warrior clans.
Clad in matching lycra outfits, these titans of vertical cycling are hill conquerors in the mold of local Cochise Rodriguez (of Tour de France fame).  Sometimes you can spot them on the flats, but these guys crave the burn and subsequent release of grinding their way up the steep slopes of the hills going out of Medellín and cruising back down in a quarter of the time. Yesterday I found a pack of semi-weekend warriors headed to Caldas and tagged along for the ride.

 The city of Caldas is about 20 miles from Medellín, on a windy mountain road. It’s a gradual climb for about 45 minutes with a couple big hills. But the main traffic and buses that whisk around corners are few and infrequent on Sundays. I’d previously been to Caldas to purchase furniture and ceramics for the hostel, but as every trip by car, you end up missing the details of the journey, especially the sights and sounds. 

Caldas’ main square was moving at half-speed as the whole town lazily enjoyed a Sunday afternoon. And it was then that I saw him: Moustachioed wrinkled face, as well worn as the cowboy hat he was wearing, a freshly washed pancho slung over his shoulder and a big gold belt buckle catching the suns’ rays. This man was the OG Paisa. He was flanked by an entourage of similar-looking gentlemen with freshly ironed shirts, nice boots and panchos, but his moustache, hat, and demeanor demonstrated that he was the true leader of the pack.

As locals sauntered by, he quipped small jokes about women and the weather and the afternoon seemed to roll on, with every man over the age of forty-five dropping by OG Paisa’s bench. Backing up the whole scene was a troupe of local musicians, cranking out one classic after another and dueling with a duet of indigenous women singing ‘musica folklorica.’ The whole scene was indicative of many of the smaller towns outside of Medellín, but the accessibility by bike is what made it such a great experience to take in; that and the OG Paisa, who I may have to talk to the next time I’m there.

Mexico City Mayor: "I want to ride my bicycle "

The Danish Foreign Ministry (Public Diplomacy Division) and bike designer Biomega teamed up for a  event during the climate talks in Copenhagen that demonstrated Copenhagen's layout as a bike-friendly city. Cruising down Copenhagen's numerous bicycle paths were the Mayor of Chennai, India and the Mayor of Mexico City, Marcelo Ebrard, who were both interested in incorporating more bicycles into their urban planning. 

In 2007, Ebrard began closing many of the downtown thoroughfares EVERY Sunday in Mexico City, allowing families and bike enthusiasts to ride without the insanity of D.F. traffic. This falls in line with Ebrard's goal of building almost 200 miles of bike paths around Mexico City by 2012.

Pu(n)ta Lara

Today my Chilean buddy Cristian and I rode bikes down to Punta Lara, a coastal town about 20 km from La Plata. The locals in La Plata endearingly call it "Puta Lara," due to the low regards they hold for the folks who live out there and the level of trash on the beach.

The road was terrible, there were cracks everywhere, much more than my beat-up beach cruiser was designed to take. Since it was Sunday, as soon as we got 6 km outside of town, there were Argentines posted up in beach chairs all along the highway, blasting Cumbia music from their cars, drinking maté and cruisin' for babes. Ironically, this scene, which I would have expected ON the beach was nonexistent when we reached the shores of Punta Lara.

A few family picnics were underway and we walked down a long pier to check out the fishing action. The beach was actually a bit cleaner than the streets of the City of La Plata, leading me to believe that the Pu(n)ta Lara bias was more based in economic or classist discrimination. Either way, I'm going to try and make it back for an asado before I leave, just as soon as I don't have to take my bike.

Masa Critica La Plata

I met Jose Maria at our 350.org event a few weeks back, and after telling him how I was a big fan of the LA Critical Mass, I had no choice but to participate in the La Plata Critical Mass, which he happens to be in charge of.

Critical Mass is a form of social protest aiming to create more awareness and concern for cyclists in metro areas. This usually involves organizing into large groups and taking up at least one or two lanes of traffic during rush hour.

"Masa Critica" La Plata, while lacking in numbers (there were only about 50 of us), has the awareness card down with their bright yellow "Bici Sendas YA!" (Bike Paths NOW!) jerseys that attracted a lot of attention. We rode from Plaza San Martin down the most frequently used streets. I resisted the temptation to yell at every other cyclist I saw to join us like I usually do in LA's Critical Mass. All in all it was a pretty subdued ride, but I still have yet to participate in the hanky panky known as Buenos Aires Critical Mass, ya veremos!

WAL-MART, no bueno!

On my lunch break, I took the liberty of biking out the fabled Wal-Mart of La Plata. Like most Wal-Marts, it was confined to the outskirts of town and I had to head past the city limits to get there. Riding highway shoulders on beach cruisers is not advisable in Argentina, just FYI.

I was in search for a yoga mat and figured because it boasted of "precios mas bajos," Wal-Mart would be the place for cheaply imported Chinese products. I was in for a huge disappointment when the only mat available was a Reebok "yoga set" (is Reebok even made in China?) with block and carrying bag for 250 pesos ($68 USD!).

All in all, I'd say Wal-Mart Argentina was entirely lacking in "cheap plastic crap" (to quote a sticker I always used to rock on my bass amp) that characterizes most Wal-Mart's in the U.S.

The Electronics section was pitiful. A few cameras, printers, monitors and hair straighteners, with a selection of maybe 100 different DVDs. Here's the big kicker: 4GB iPod Nano, 750 Pesos, which is about USD $200 before tax, nearly twice as much as it is in the US. A lot of this has to do with trade relations. Argentina isn't up to Chilean or Mexican standards with their Chinese/US trade accords, meaning electronics and cheap plastic crap is generally more costly here.

The end result is a Wal-Mart dominated by foodstuffs and bulk items (a la Costco). I'm always ambivalent towards the idea of Wal-Marts in developing countries. I definitely think they are harmful to U.S. jobs and workers, but in some instances studies have show that communities living far from metropolitan centers can actually benefit from having a Wal-Mart near them; any many have started implementing environmental reforms. Dissapointed I didn't get a chance to check one out in Mexico, where they are one of the fastest growing retailers and have sparked plenty of controversy.