Every bike ride is an adventure

As mentioned in previous posts, the city of Quito shuts down one of its main streets every Sunday morning, opening it to bikers, skaters, and walkers. The Ciclopaseo, as it is known, stretches the entire length of the city, nearly 20 miles long.

My parents like bike riding, so I figured they'd enjoy this innovative initiative. Last week, I rented a bike from a place right near my house. I showed up, paid for the two hours I planned on riding, dropped off my ID, and was on my way. The bike worked great. It was surprisingly hassle-free.

I don't know why I would have expected it to be so smooth two weeks in a row.

We showed up at the same booth where I rented bikes last week. They told us that you can't rent bikes there. The place to rent bikes is a mile and a half down the road. I tried to explain what happened last week, but my arguing this was futile.

My dad and I decided to jog to the other bike rental place while my mom waited for Sarah. (The city of Quito is situated about 2,800 meters above sea level, and my parents are not adjusted to the altitude. But I was very impressed with how my parents handled the thin air.) After a few walking breaks, we showed up to the other bike rental place.

Obviously, the employees were busy putting up a giant inflatable balloon and made us wait for 15 minutes before the could attend to us, at which point they told us there were no bikes to rent this week. I told them that they should do a much better job of customer service and communicating between their employees. Once again, it was pointless trying to explain this to them. At this point, my mom and Sarah showed up.

There was another place to rent bikes where we started our adventure that didn't open until 9:00. By then, it was open. Sarah and I ran to that bike store, rented the bikes, and met up with my parents. We were just about ready to go, right? Well, not quite.

I'm a bit taller than your average Ecuadorian, so I had to raise the seat. I borrowed a wrench and got the seat up. But when I tried to screw the bolt back on, it wouldn't tighten. The grooves on the screw had been stripped. We went to another bike store and bought a quick release screw so that whoever had to use this bike after me would have an easy time lowering the seat. (It cost about a dollar) My dad had little trouble adjusting his seat.

Finally, we were off. For the next hour, we had a lovely ride through the historic center of Quito.





Every time I ride my bike, I am amazed at this wall of laundry. I would really like to learn more about their system. I assume they use pullies, but I'd really like to know the details.



In honor of the festivals of Quito, they municipality hosted a "best facade in Quito" contest. I don't think this one won, but I thought it was pretty nice.



My parents normally ride a tandem bike and were quite impressed by this one.

As we headed back to my apartment, the back wheel on my dad's bike popped. We took it to a "mechanic" to check it out. After a ten-minute wait, we realized that the same tube had been patched at least eight times. We found the hole in the tube and realized there was no point in trying to patch this one up. Since there aren't too many bike shops in the colonial center of Quito, my dad decided to call it a day. We started thinking of ways to try and get the bike back to the bike shop.

The solution we arrived at was that my mom, dad, and Sarah would send my dad and bike in a taxi to the bike shop. I would ride ahead and meet him there.

So they walked down to pick up a cab and put the bike in the trunk, which meant it wouldn't close very well. The driver didn't have any rope to secure the bike with, so he took his shoelaces out of his shoes and tie the bike down.





Somehow, it worked. My dad and the bike showed up at the shop a few minutes after me. We dropped off the bike and didn't even have to pay for them to fix the tube. We figured they would just put another patch on it. It's probably something they do every week.

My mom and Sarah rolled in a few minutes later, which ended this week's bike ride. As my parents like to say "every bike ride is an adventure."

I can't wait to see what happens next week.