Downhill In Otavalo

Being an avid mountain biker, I can´t help but to carefully examine the many different types of bikes that are used here. Bikes serve multiple purposes beyond just mere transportation, they are the pack-animals moving huge bags of rice and maize up and down the roads, they are moving stores selling fresh ice cream, empanadas, and finger puppets, and they serve as mini-cars, sometimes moving as many as 3 people at time. The bikes seem to be in various states of disrepair, but nothing here is wasted, especially if it can be fixed. I already recognize the same bikes and riders around the city and notice that they often cover quite a bit of ground. Biking here is extremely dangerous, drivers lookout for only themselves. Stop signs are acknowledged by a courteous beeping of horn, a touch of brakes, and little else.

Yesterday, coming down the a mountain from the condor reserve and rescue center, a boy on a Specialized mountain bike passed the bus like we were standing still. We were doing at least 25 miles an hour and he soon disappeared around one of the many twists in the road: no helmet, not clipped in, no front suspension, on a rut-filled dirt path that had been gouged by running water. It was an impressive show of skill.

Today, after the Shaman medical experience, we stopped to watch some teenagers do some urban downhill on an impressive set of stairs on the side of a mountain. Many brands were represented, but most were Specialized and Giant. I don´t know much about downhill or the bikes, but they had the works... fox shocks, giant disc breaks, and the distinctive geometry. The riders had the obligatory equipment... helmets, knee pads, gloves, and a few had some spine armor. All who went down the stairs completed the brisk downhill safely, except for one who layed it sideways at the bottom. He sprained his wrist, but it looked a lot worse than it actually was.