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Crash

Early morning ride. The reason why I brought this bike that day.

The bruises have almost faded now. A few deep and dark bruises near my knee were the only evidence that I was hit by a car. Hard.

I was approximately 200 meters away from my destination. And from where I was I could see the car at a standstill. I proceeded straight ahead, yet he somehow must not have seen me as he went straight ahead too. I tried turning away from him, but by then it was too late. The right side of my body smashed into his car and I hit the asphalt painfully. I felt my head bounce several times and for the nth time, I prayed and thanked God I had my helmet on.

This isn't the first time I've been hit. Over the past five years of bike commuting, I've been hit by wayward doors, jeepneys, cars and even a truck that tried to squeeze me out of the road. I've carried my bruises like proud battle scars or accessorized them with a sheepish grin when the accidents were my fault.

This, however, felt different. Perhaps it was the way my body felt as it hit the ground. The impact was more forceful than any crash I could remember. For a few moments, I thought it was an extremely serious accident, since I couldn't move any of my limbs. As I lay on the asphalt and tried to ignore the gathering crowd, I listened to my body and knew that I would only have a few bruises.

It took me longer than usual to get to my senses. All the anger that I was supposed to throw at the driver dissipated as I lay on the ground trying to recover. Several helpful individuals assessed me quickly, checking if I had a concussion or asking where there was pain.

I couldn't stand on my right foot and I was brought to the infirmary. The x-rays showed I had no broken bones but I was shaken up inside. I was unable to get the driver's contact information and I only had his plate number as my reference.

Wheelchair at the infirmary. 

What shook me from my dazed state was seeing my handlebars all bent out of shape. It really had to be the classic road bike. This is one of the reasons why I got a cheap single speed bike-- for moments like this. I shook my head at the irony.

A more aerodynamic handlebar position?

The next day, I took public transportation to all my destinations. Yet I found myself staring wistfully at all the bikers that passed by the vehicles I was in. The day after, I was back on my bike.

I'll never know what will make stop biking. Or even why I continue to do this. I feel like I am a smarter and more careful biker than I was a few years ago. The sad part is (and this goes for motorists in general), no matter how careful I am, it doesn't matter if there is one wayward driver.

Summer nights

The summer heat has been unbearable the last few weeks or so. It's been quite impossible to go out on long rides just because thinking that the day will be scorching takes extra energy.

Then unexpectedly, I received a text. "Want to do a sunset ride?" It was a Friday and I had no other plans that day and for the weekend. I would gladly take any chance I could get to squeeze in a quality ride that did not invlove Manila's streets.

"Just one thing. It's a sunset ride up Shotgun."

Gulp. Despite my extensive riding experience (well mostly within Manila), I've never biked up Shotgun. I've gone up the Wall, I've ridden the trails of Maarat, and I walked/hiked Shotgun, but I've never gone up there by bike. There's always a first time.

So late afternoon we set off from UP and headed to Timberland.

I could quickly see the perks of riding late into the afternoon. The cool afternoon breeze (something sorely lacking during the day) was refreshing. It helped that as we went up, the road gradually disappeared into the night, so I had no sense of incline or of distance. All I knew at that time was to put one foot in front of the other and to listen to the steady pounding of my heart and my heavy breathing. Like the sunset, the city life gradually faded into the darkness.

 The road wasn't an easy feat. We were the only bikers heading up but similarly, motorcycles and dump trucks were heading up as well. I felt the hair rise up on my arms every time a dump truck passed us, always a silent prayer on my lips that we'd be safe.

Some of our rest stops along the way to watch the sun disappear.

By the time we reached the top of Shotgun, the trucks had freaked me out so much I couldn't think of going down that same route.

Halo belt. We watched the city lights flicker on.

"Let's go through the trail. That will take us back to the Wall."

You're crazy. But what choice did we have? The trail was fairly easy, may be a quick 2-3km stretch of dirt road, with occasional singletracks. I could imagine that this wouldn't be difficult at all during the day. But it was late, maybe 7 or 8 pm? Even with our headlamps and bike lights on, the trail was still rather demanding.  At one point, during a very short downhill, I had to unclip just because I felt a really nasty semplang coming if I pushed on.

We finally made it to the Timberland gate without any harm but with my nerves all shaken up. Thankfully nothing serious or paranormal happened. So would I do this again? Well, we ended up back there the following week.

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.