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Phillip Barron OAXACA, MEXICO — After asking at a taller de bicicletas (a bike shop) |
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| His office is small, just big enough for a counter, ten bikes to hang tightly against the wall, and shelves for helmets and cycling shoes. A collection of cycling jerseys hangs overhead, and inside the glass case that forms the counter are cassettes, pedals, hubs, and derailleurs. What available wall space is left is covered in poster-sized photographs of Martinez himself competing in races. |
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| While Sr. Martinez is busy arranging a hiking tour with customers, his nephew Roberto invites me in. In the best Spanish I can muster, we joke about the pain of a long climb, about reaching down to click into the next easiest gear only to realize that you’re already in it, and about the white-knuckles and big eyes of a sketchy descent. He tells me there is a 50 mile endurance mountain bike race on Sunday and invites me to race on a rented bike. I’m tempted but decline in favor of a ride through the streets of Oaxaca. |
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Sunday
morning, I arrange to take a bike for two hours and ask about the local mountain bike scene. Roberto charges me 50 pesos (about $5.00) for a nice bike (a Giant Rincon), a pump and spare tube, tire levers, a lock, and a helmet. |
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| Leaving the shop, I ride down la calle Aldama and turn south on JP Garcia. Although the sidewalks are crowded, traffic flows swiftly in the streets. Oaxaca is, like most developed areas, an auto-centric place. But bicycles fit right in with traffic here, and I never feel threatened by the buses, trucks, and taxis swirling around me. In fact, as I get more comfortable with the new traffic patterns, I realize that drivers around me seem to be more aware and respectful of bicyclists than I am used to. |
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| I decide to ride the road up Monte Alban, a tight, steep road that leads to Zapotec ruins dating back to 100 AD. It’s a grueling climb, but the views alone from the roadside make it worthwhile. Halfway up the road, I can see all of Oaxaca to the east. I snap a photograph in my mind and turn around. |
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Next I head |
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| My two hours are coming to an end, so I turn back and begin riding southwest. On a bike, it’s easy to navigate a city laid out in perfect square blocks, and I make my way to the Zócalo and the adjacent Alameda de León. |
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The Zócalo |
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Roberto welcomes Out of curiosity, I ask whether he rents |
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See the rest of my pictures from Oaxaca and Puerto Escondido here.








