Rustic Mornings, Marikina

Because this quaint little garden/house is such an appropriate stopover after a hard morning on the hills.

Instagramming everything

Coffees and bikes. They offer 1 free refill for every cup of Americano.

Pinterest-able!

Homemade longganisa

Banana nutella sandwich with a side of potatoes

Rustic Mornings by Cafe Ysabelo, Marikina

Easter

It was a short ride. I had a birthday and Easter lunch to attend to. But a late night text was enough to prep me for today's ride.

It was a short ride. We spent a lot of time talking about bike touring plans, bike gear and gossip.

hipster socks

It was a short ride. A lot of twisty, single-track downhills, and steep uphills, where not enough bwelo will send you falling. 

It was a simple ride, where we had most of the trails to ourselves and we found ourselves turning this way and that, never minding where we end up, but always finding our way back. We appreciated the fresh morning wind that's a rarity these days because of the summer heat. If our ride was any longer, we'd suffer under the midday sun.

Biking Dawn

The plan was for the department to meet early in the morning to avoid the traffic rush, head to Tagaytay for breakfast at Bag of Beans, then drive to Nasugbu for some R&R. My plan was to wake up extra early that morning and bike all the way to Nasugbu.

Whenever I ride solo, I never wake up early enough. That day was no exception. I woke up a bit late and had to rush out the door. I didn't want to be too quick on the road though--there were too many trucks at that ungodly hour.

The Daang Hari stretch kept me on my toes as the lack of street light was freaking me out. I had a quick breakfast stop (which seems to be a popular bike hangout, as evidenced by the bike racks SEPARATE from the motorcycle parking), where I watched the sun peek through the dark.

The past few days have been hot and humid, where I would wake up with my sheets drenched in sweat. The Cavite/Aguinaldo Highway route was a welcome change from the heat;  the cool wind was refreshing company. It felt like Christmas all over again. Unfortunately though, Aguinaldo Highway was deceivingly uphill and and I felt my strength sap away as the morning wore on. My patience was being tested. And I wasn't used to solo long rides anymore so motivation to keep me going was wearing off.

I hit the Tagaytay rotonda at almost 8am where I made a phone call to my officemates. Just my luck. They just hit Tagaytay and were on their way to BoB. I pedaled onwards, stopping only to take a picture of this monstrosity that was threatening the Tagaytay scenery. Ugh, you are not the good guys.

Thankfully I made it to breakfast with the colleagues where I ended up eating the remains of my colleagues' plates. I wanted to bike Tagaytay-Nasugbu since it was all downhill but I think I would get to the beach too late to enjoy it. So regretfully (not really, just save it for another day), I packed my bike in the car and headed for some much needed rest and relaxation.

Like-minded individuals

A few days ago, I attended a friend’s event in Makati where a mix of mountain bikers, weekend warriors, hardcore bikers and bike commuters were present. I made my way through the crowd and found some familiar faces. We started discussing how differently we viewed transportation in and around Manila. Ever since I started riding my bike, I rarely take public transportation if I can avoid it. It was only recently that I took the MRT again. The long lines, cramped cars, and the non-intuitive directions left me feeling disoriented. Granted, there was a welcome change: no longer did entering the ladies’ carriage feel like a stampede; instead, there were lines on either side of the door to facilitate entering and exiting.

Daily passengers may laugh at my ignorance. Ganun naman siya talaga ever since eh. How could I have forgotten? Yet it is because I take my bike with me everywhere that I have forgotten. And that I see transportation in Manila from another perspective. When I’m on my bike, I’m in control. I control my speed, the roads I take. When I commute, I am hampered by my lack of decisions. I get dropped off because this is what the jeep/fx/bus/MRT dictates. I am at the mercy of my fellow passengers who dictate the pace of the travel. I am at the mercy of my pocket, which decides if I shall commute or say, screw it, let’s just take the cab.

On the bike, the possibilities are endless. I could choose to do a u-turn, take the flyover or take the pedestrian overpass. I could stop at the first sari-sari store and get my pan de coco fix or buy pina or buko from the street vendors when it gets extra hot.

This is no advocacy of mine. This is my choice. As much as I want to see people drive less and bike more, I know there’s a certain level of risk-taking and badassery needed to bike here. Our roads are not built for bikers, an urban planner would say. Yet in these streets, daily bike commuters would say screw the rules and do exactly what these urban planners wish for city streets: sharing the road. We just don’t know that we’re doing it.

 Eventually, the conversation topics shifted as the night wore on. I used to think I was alone in ranting and raving about bike commuting in Manila. Lately I’ve seen that like-minded individuals are now easier to find.

Knobbies and Rustic Mornings

We traded our slicks for knobby tires Saturday morning and headed to Timberland. For once, we didn't bike going there but had the pleasure of taking Nokman's car to the entrance. We met up with some UP Mountaineers who were there for a trail running clinic. They went ahead while Nokman and I stayed behind to address some mechanical issues on my bike. What a day for bloopers!

1. I was trying a new set of pedals and Nokman struggled removing the (almost) corroded cleats off my shoes.
2. I suffered a pinch flat within 100 meters of starting the trail. LA had a spare tube that he let me use so that I wouldn't need to patch it up on the trail.
3. Whenever I attempted to shift quickly, the chain refused to cooperate getting caught on the derailleur several times.

Poor Sandy left me frustrated. She's got some issues that a simple maintenance checkup at the bike shop just won't fix. This means upgrade!

We tried  several trails that morning searching for the runners, but unfortunately were unable to catch up with them. We finally saw a text from them, saying they were back at the lugawan.

On the trail 

We left some of the runners behind and decided to call it a day. On the way home, we chanced upon this lovely brunch place called Rustic Mornings in Marikina. Situated across the Johnnie Wilkie bike shop, it was a perfect post-ride hangout.

French toast, hash browns and bacon for P220

Mango waffles

All meat omelette.

Rustic Mornings in Marikina

They're open from daily til 4pm. Then they only accept dinner reservations.

Mid-week

The lady at the Dunkin Donuts counter was surprised to see me. "Miss, di ba every weekend kayo nagbibike?" I was just as surprised to hear this from her, as this was only the second time that we met up at the Dunkin Donuts in Masinag. When asked why we were riding in the middle of the week, I told her we weren't able to ride last weekend and we were trying to make up for it by riding on a Thursday.

Such is how these days turn out. That weekend rides and daily bike commutes are never quite enough and if you do miss a weekend ride, somehow you feel that urge to ride in the middle of the week. It helps that you have company who have schedules as erratic as yours and can afford to give up a few hours in the early morning to ride.

So here we were, going against the daily grind: avoiding swerving vehicles, impatient motorists, rushing commuters, etc. etc. No matter how many times we do this, the road to Antipolo always greets our bodies rudely. Hello there, burning thigh muscles, heavy breathing and pounding heart. Welcome to my town.

We finally reached our destination, where the gradual descent, trees and fresh breeze were more cordial to us. Not surprisingly, we encountered some cyclists (bikers?) who had the same idea. Triathletes were training and hardened cyclists had their morning coffee and tsismis.

Three's not a crowd.

Bike-versations

All too soon, it was over in a matter of 2 hours. We bade Antipolo farewell as the Metro Manila skyline got closer, where the rest of the day waited for us.