At the age of 6 I learned to ride a bicycle. I did it on a beat-up bicycle, the only one in the neighborhood. With that we all learned. I don’t even remember who owned it. We jumped down a hill in Zone 9 of Alamar. You had to brake with your feet before reaching the bottom to avoid a car crash. At that time, for us children, any bicycle was the best; no matter how old, rusty or off-center it was. We were leaving without permission on the bike path to the whereabouts of Alamar. For many adults in the 1990s, riding a bike was a necessity; for us it was just fun, pure adrenaline.
I think the Special Period was the worst time for transportation; but getting around during the pandemic was tough. At that moment, after more than sixteen years without my own bicycle, I bought myself a billy goat route of the year 94. A family heirloom that came into my hands to change my perspective. She is a Japanese 27 1 ¼. It is painted yellow, with a brush, in a very sloppy way; but I didn’t want to sand it down because it would strip it of part of its history. Although it has all the modernized technique, by its appearance there will be no one to steal it. I have been buying pieces little by little, some new and others used. I like his geeky look because he looks like me, and the best part is that he rolls in size.
Since I have been cycling all over Havana, I have become aware of many things and what, at first, was just a necessity, has become a way of life. Now the smoke and the noise of the cars annoy me more and I realize how unfriendly most of the drivers are. By bicycle you not only save money and time; you also learn to enjoy the ride, without the despair to reach the destination. It is one of the healthiest exercises and I only need the energy from my body, more reliable than gasoline and electricity. When you bring a bicycle into your life, responsibility, discipline and patience are also reinforced. Taking it apart for maintenance from time to time, for some, it becomes a ritual.
Before, to have fun, I preferred concerts and large parties. Now, in addition, I like bike tours. In this form of entertainment, you don’t drink or smoke, or do very little; but extraordinary things happen. Of all of them, the most exciting bike ride was that of Mariel. 45 kilometers one way on the highway and 52 kilometers back on the Pan-American Highway. On the way there, it feels good to leave the city, get a change of air between Boyeros and the highway, go through the La Coronela dam, watch the sunset, reach Sayas and load the saddlebags with ripe mangoes. The next day, back along the coast, you can enjoy a dip in El Salado beach, rest for a few minutes on the Guajaibón River bridge, drink guarapo next to the Ranchón de Playa Baracoa, eat bread with suckling pig in Santa Fé, and come home tired; but with an adrenaline similar to that of those first years of cycling, when I was going down the hill of Zone 9.
Despite the fact that efforts have been made to promote a love for the bicycle and contribute to a culture of respect for cyclists by those who ride in cars, a lot is missing. Even though we have a bicycle bus that crosses the bay tunnel and they recently inaugurated a bike rental service in Boyeros and Cujae, it is not enough. Many students cannot pay the rent. Added to state efforts are the desire of groups of enthusiasts such as citykleta, Ha’BiciChivo, Velo Cuba, Ruta Bikes and other ventures that dream of a Havana full of bicycles.
The bicycle is for many people, and for me at this point, a passion. Being a photographer, I stop to examine the faces, the bodies and the bicycles. Each one is arranging and personalizing them as he likes. Sometimes it becomes an extension of the person. He is growing fond of that piece of iron. Some people love their Specialized Sirrus 2.0 hybrid, their modernized Flying Pigion, their road Giant LIV, their classic light blue Bianchi, their Fixie with mass brake, their Trek X-Caliber 1×12, or their Niagara with basket vintage that Correos de Cuba distributed to postmen. I love my poorly painted Japanese and one of these days I’m going to tattoo it on her arm.
Many of us who ride a bike recognize it not only as a means of transportation, but also as an identity support, as a means of cultural expression and respect for nature. One of the most beautiful things that has happened to me in this period as a reflective cyclist is having participated in artistic experiences that have the bicycle as their center. I especially remember the creation of a mural in the Villa Panamericana in which the artists Cabra, Moya, Zardoya, Pikyai and Sekou, all of whom were bicycle lovers, participated. Although the picket usually gets together to make murals in many places, this time they were promoted by the American documentary filmmaker Mitra Elena, who was shooting a documentary about bicycles in Cuba that we will be able to see in the near future.
There are those who ride a bike with the same clothes as riding in a car. But there are other crazy people, myself included, who dress and prepare like for a date with him. faster of their life. I carry a backpack with a spare tube, an air pump, a knob with grease, a case with seven keys, nuts, washers and cold punches. I cannot miss a bottle of water, a cycling helmet, a phosphorescent vest and lights, in case the night catches me. Also, I carry a small speaker to listen to Metallica, Isaac Delgado or Benny Moré. I wear glasses. The most exciting thing about looking like a cyclist is that others who look just like you greet you like you belong to their family.
Being a cyclist is in my blood. I still remember when my dad would take my mom pregnant with my brother and me to El Golfito. One of my biggest dreams is to take a trip around Cuba by bicycle, from Punta de Maisí to Cabo de San Antonio. I dream of that trip with my little family: my wife and two children. In a few years the big one will be a teenager, the little one will learn to ride and, with luck, his mother will also learn, who has been putting off the moment for thirty-four years. I would like people to join this family trip to fill the road with bicycles.
