But there’s safety in numbers, and that’s the idea behind Critical Mass, a bicycling movement launched in 1992 in San Francisco that has now spread to more than 300 countries.

“We don’t block traffic; we are traffic!” is the group’s motto, and as an urban bicyclist confronted with rude, honking or just heedless motorists I’ve enjoyed expressing that sentiment, alone and in mass rides in San Antonio (MS 150), Houston, Texas (Bohemeo’s Bicycle Club) and Guadalajara, Mexico (Al Teatro en Bici and GDL en Bici).

So when I saw on Twitter that Masa Critica Guatemala was planning a ride my first weekend here, I decided to drop them a line to see if they might have a bike to spare.

“It will be an honor,” said Masa Critica founder Manuel Gómez, and assured me he’d be there at Jocotenango Park with a bike for me. “You’ll know me by my beard,” he said.

And indeed, it would have been hard to miss him. Gómez cut a robust figure with a bright yellow vest over his green tie-dye Masa Critica T-shirt and a beard that reached halfway down his chest.

“Bienvenidos a Masa Critica!” he shouted, rolling in with a shiny blue mountain bike just my size.

Gómez, a local chiropractor and acupuncturist, gathered the assembled masses and went over the route and the rules of the road. “Remember to stay together – that’s the most important thing!” he said. “Stay to the left. And stay alert!”

It was a far cry from some of the Critical Mass rides I’d seen in Houston, where the riders’ objective seemed to be asserting their rights of the road. Here the emphasis was on staying alive. These riders observed traffic laws, were courteous to honking drivers and tried to spread good cheer along the way.

“Some drivers are rude, but I just smile at them,” one rider told me. “That way we can show them we are humans, too!”

Few women joined the ride – unfortunately, not many women have taken up bicycling in the capital city. Teresa was one of two besides me.

“I used to love biking, but I lost my enthusiasm when a friend had her bicycle stolen from her while she was waiting for a red light at an intersection,” she said. “So when I heard about Critical Mass, I said, I’ll be there!” This was her fourth ride.

The two-hour ride wound through all the zones in the central part of the capital: From quiet, residential Zona 2 to Historical Zona 1, past the Parque Central and the unusual green limestone Palacio Nacional (I’m told the locals call it the Guacamole); down into Zona 4 where we passed the Gaudi-style National Theater, where street vendors hawked everything from pirated CDs to socks and shoes; on down to the bustling commercial district of Avenida Bolivar. All in all, an exhilarating ride, and I must say the drivers were at least as respectful as those in Houston.

After the ride, Manuel joined me for lunch at the Spanish-style La Mezquita Restaurant where we dined on Spanish torillas and paella, and he told me his thoughts on life, health and bicycling.

Here are a few excerpts from our interview:

“Our society in general has a prejudice against people who ride bicycles; they see that development and success are demonstrated by having a nice car. But maybe because of increased media attention on pollution and the health problems caused by sedentarism, we’re seeing more people being willing to get out on their bikes, but they’re hesitant because of security problems. But we’re not really that bad in that respect; there are countries in Europe where hundreds of bicycles are stolen every year. We don’t have that many bicycles stolen in Guatemala.

What really is a challenge, on the other hand, is breaking that vicious cycle of sedentarism, and addiction to comfort and passive recreation – they just look and look at electronic devices. Going out on a bicycle is one of the best form of exercise – not just because it doesn’t pollute but also because it helps people avoid a whole variety of illnesses. In my practice I’ve noticed that bikers suffer fewer illnesses.

If we can get our young people biking, not just the athletes but all the young people, we’ll see less drug use, and greater enjoyment of the outdoors. On a bike you feel yourself to be part of everything; you’re in communication with the wind, with the plants… you have all of this contact with nature, whereas in a car, you don’t.

Eight years ago I began an annual bike ride to Coban, 255 km to the north. It was an incredible experience because I was able to hear all the birds and then I was able to see them close up, and I’d never had the opportunity to do that in a car.”

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Carlos with his collection of miniature bicycles and a photo of his father, an avid bicyclist.

This intrepid group of biking photographers is dedicated to promoting biking in a variety of ways. Besides their weekly outings, which traverse a variety of rural terrains around Guadalajara and further afield, they’ve organized get-out-the-vote campaigns, children’s outings, first aid workshops, bicycle repair workshops, and a fundraiser for Haiti – all aboard the seat of a bicycle.

(Haiti Benefit Ride – Photos by Carlos Ibarra)

Founded by Carlos and other local photographers about two years ago, the group has grown to include non-photographers, as well, and works to initiate beginners into the biker’s life.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a beginner, or a child, or even if you’ve never been on a bicycle,” Ibarra said. “The idea is to get out there and start pedaling, and we want to help with that. We’ve even had some riders who want to go faster, and they’ve gone on to form their own groups because we’re too slow – that’s ok. There’s room for everybody.”

That said, the group does some pretty heavy trekking, by a beginner’s standards. A recent fundraising ride for Haiti went 100 kilometers. And the off-trail mountain biking in Jalisco’s rugged countryside can be a challenge, especially when a storm comes up – as it did on a recent campout in Juan Rulfo country, from San Gabriel to Tapalpa.

“It was cool,” Ibarra enthused, showing photographs of dripping, smiling bikers. “It was an adventure.”

And indeed, this must be the most documented biking group of all time, with as many photographers as there are among its ranks. Here’s a slide show of the highlights from the group’s last two years.

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

The group provides plenty of fun for the younger set, as well. A recent bicycle fiesta for the children, neices, nephews and young friends of Camara Rodante featured piñatas in the shape of cars.

“We were playing a little with the idea: Get rid of the cars!” said Ibarra, chuckling. “que no son muchos. It was something symbolic, and the kids loved it. Others didn’t want to because they liked the little car. But we were reinforcing the idea of using the bike – that it’s good for your health, that it doesn’t pollute, that you can move yourself quickly and easily.”

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Matter of fact, you can ride with a herd of cyclists pretty much any night of the week – just pick your flavor. “Al Teatro en Bici” (To the Theater by Bicycle”) is one of a seemingly endless number of bicycle-oriented initiatives in Guadalajara. There’s Camera Rodante, a hard-riding group of biking photographers. There’s GDL en Bici, a group of young professionals dedicated to reclaiming the streets for all commuters, not just cars. Their nocturnal rides, each one with a theme and costumed riders, have drawn upwards of 4,000 participants.

Tuesday I got a taste of the Guadalajara bicycle explosion, as well as why it may have evolved. Guadalajara is a city that has evolved, like most U.S. cities, around the automobile, and public transit is somewhat disorganized. A morning taxi ride to Tonalá, a village on the southern outskirts, took me 15 minutes; the bus ride back, an hour and a half. It took longer than that to figure out how to take the bus back to Tonalá.

And that’s not even mentioning the aggressive stance a pedestrian must take in order to negotiate the glorietas, traffic circles where a seemingly endless churning mass of vehicles whirl past.

Little wonder, then, in a city where many people don’t have cars, that frustrated commuters turned to bicycles, then teamed up to find safety in numbers. It couldn’t have been easy, however; in a city where just a few years ago, bicycles were seen primarily as a vehicle for street vendors and poor people.

On Tuesday, the first ride after the holidays, hundreds milled about with their bicycles in front of Punto del Arte, a classy cafe in the Centro. Suddenly a shout rang out – “Ya vamos!” followed by the voice of Aretha Franklin blaring from the loudspeakers attached to the lead bicycle.

“What you want, baby, I got it… What you need, you know I got it. All I’m askin’ for is a little respect…”

I don’t know about the impatient drivers who waited as the wheeled hordes streamed through the red lights, but the message wasn’t lost on me.

The eclectic soundtrack weaved from Rolling Stones to Caifanes, from Lynyrd Skynyrd to Café Tacuba to Guns ‘N Roses, and the elation was so high you could feel it bouncing from the Beaux Arts decor in the old city streets. We plied those streets for about an hour before ending up at the spectacular neoclassical Teatro Degollado, where we piled in to see a free showing of ZaikoCirco, a surrealistic international troupe of circus performers who, of course, supported the effort with bicycles in their act.

All in all, a phenomenal performance – beginning with the commute.

Many of you know I am currently in the process of gearing up for a year-long journey with a mission: to raise the visibility of the unsung heroes of Latin America’s environmental movement.  In the process I hope to build a well of creative ideas and inspiration through the new web portal I’m designing, a networking tool for the groups themselves and a sharp contradiction to the sense of hopelessness and cynicism about the future that has enveloped much of our population. I’m calling it The Esperanza Project, and I’ll be filling you in on the details in the weeks ahead.

Meanwhile, I’ll be taking the opportunity to highlight the journeys of other travelers whose journeys represent a larger purpose. Today I ran across the story of Tendai Sean Joe, a former street child from Zimbabwe who has become an advocate for disadvantaged children and youths. He has launched the Trail of Hope Foundation to provide a base for his advocacy work. Currently the group is raising money for a three-motorcycle trip through 16 countries to document the conditions of street children from Cape Town to Berlin.

Tendai Sean Joe

You can follow Tendai Sean Joe on his blog, on Facebook or on Twitter, and you can read his guest post in Deb Corbeil and Dave Bouskill’s excellent blog, Canada’s Adventure Couple, where I first learned about him. Deb and Dave (@theplanetd on Twitter) bring a great deal of insight to the subject, having biked from Cairo to Capetown to raise money for Plan Canada, another group that raises money for underprivileged children. Their blog also highlights journeys for a cause, and you can find a list of stories from their Giving Back, Travel the World and Make a Difference series at the end of Tendai Joe’s guest post.
Here’s one of many photos from Tendai Joe’s Facebook page, taken on a preliminary trip to one of the sites he will visit on his tour.

]]> http://tracybarnettonline.com/blog/2009/10/27/journeys-with-a-cause/feed/ 1 http://tracybarnettonline.com/blog/2009/07/11/biking-bohemio-style/ http://tracybarnettonline.com/blog/2009/07/11/biking-bohemio-style/#comments Sat, 11 Jul 2009 21:27:59 +0000 tracybarnett http://tracybarnett.wordpress.com/?p=248 Last night I followed up on a welcome invitation from Patrick Taylor, organizer of a new biking group over on Houston’s East End. I couldn’t think of a better way to meet new friends and explore my new city than this one — so I packed up Bessie and headed east.

Bohemeo’s, it turns out, is a pretty cool little cooling-off spot in itself – tucked inside the Tlaquepaque Market (an East End community center that’s as much fun to visit as it is to say), it’s a coffeeshop (yes, free wifi), restaurant, bar, and art & music venue all wrapped up in one.

Bohemeo's, the East End's first art and music coffeehouse

And now, it’s also the departure point for the city’s coolest new biking club.

Patrick Taylor checks Lajla Cline's tires in preparation for our inaugural ride.

It quickly became apparent that this group was not going to be like the bicycle club I trained with for the MS 150. No padded bicycle shorts or gloves here, and barely a helmet to be seen. The important thing here, I was told, was to have a good time.

“I work hard enough during the daytime,” said Elise, who was fetchingly attired in a denim dress and pink headscarf. Her hobby is biking from bar to bar, and “the getup is really important for that,” she confided. Note to self: I need to work on the getup!

There was an impressive turnout for the group’s first ride. I guess it shows the power of Facebook – and Patrick’s organizing skills. Or maybe it was just a good idea whose time had come.

Ready to roll

Our first ride took us down the new Columbia TAP Trail, a rail-to-trail project inaugurated in March, and past scores of new trees planted as part of Mayor Bill White’s Million Trees + Houston Initiative. We cruised through East End neighborhoods and the TSU Campus to the McGowan Street Trail, a bike trail that parallels Brays Bayou and runs through the so-called “River Oaks of Houston,” a wealthy black neighborhood where you’ll find the mansions of famous locals like Beyonce Knowles.

The bayou here is sadly paved in concrete, unlike the Buffalo Bayou in my neighborhood, which was mercifully left intact. But the skies opened up here to the prettiest sunset I’ve seen in awhile, and I can honestly say the breezes were refreshing.

We did seven miles on this first round, and got back to Bohemeo’s before dark — in time to drink a cold one and enjoy some live music. A little soggy for a public appearance indoors, unfortunately — so the music will have to wait!

Mission accomplished