#festive500
My mom told me I could pedal before I could walk. As a matter of fact, I don’t recall learning to ride a bike. Although I do remember that every evening of my childhood I would anxiously wait for my dad to come home from work so we could go on a ride around the neighborhood. Those two, three kilometers were the best part of my days. My best memories can be timelined by the bicycles that crossed my paths. When my brother was born, my parents got me a new bicycle so I wouldn’t fight for attention. I remember it all clearly. I guess it worked out.
It’s when I’m on the saddle that it happens. There’s only the present time. There’s only now. Body and mind struggling to become one. Until I realize the struggle is the blessing. It all seems to make sense somehow. It never gets easier. The more I ride, the furthest I want to go and the bigger is the blessing. Rewarding.
I live deep inland Brazil on the golden mountains of Minas Gerais that set the world on fire during the Colonial Age. The Portuguese built a path from this region all the way to Rio de Janeiro and had checkpoints where they could control the gold diggings, make sure their treasure was safe and tax the findings. Inevitably, alternative paths were created so that gold miners could smuggle their gems without being charged by the Kingdom of Portugal. Basically, there were plenty of undisclosed routes to get to the port in Rio. Many of those routes still exist. Kind of.
I’m deeply connected to these routes and these mountains. My wife is from Rio so I have a reason to constantly be on both sides of the line but I never get enough. My Rapha #festive500 challenge starts there, in Rio, unpretentiously. I was spending Christmas’ Eve with my wife’s family and took my road bike with me. I know one guy there because of Strava so I sent him a message and we organized to meet for a spin on Saturday morning. He took me to ride the first road he had been on. By all the cracks and holes on the asphalt and the sand along the way, I guess if you learn to ride there, you could ride anywhere. I guess the landscapes make it up for the troubles.
I forgot to mention I have a three year old daughter and that means we also had to spend Christmas with my family in Minas Gerais. On Christmas day, early in the morning we hit the road towards the mountains. That day, late in the afternoon, after Santa was gone, I still managed to get some more kilometers in. The following day I had some work to be done and only pulled a short ride with my wife. It seemed the challenge was over for me.
On Tuesday I went on a ride with my brother, the one that was born when I got a new bike. Turns out he became a cyclist too. We were determined to cross the Serra de Ouro Branco mountain by one of the forgotten gold miner’s path. It was a combination of hikeabike, covered single tracks and jungle incursions. It was deep inside the jungle I realized the challenge had to be beaten. Remember, the struggle is the blessing. Short after thinking we would never find our way out, we end up by an untouched waterfall inviting us for recharging.
I was behind the schedule. If I wanted to have 500k by next Saturday I still had to ride some kilometers before going to bed. So I went for a ride around town through all the places I used to ride with my dad back in the day. I was so tired of carrying a bike up a mountain that I fell asleep without setting an alarm. I woke up Wednesday early feeling surprisingly well and decided to go for a 50k dirt road adventure. I followed a single track by the train tracks until I reached a checkpoint of the Portuguese Road and followed its marks on a loop back into town. These train tracks also lead to Rio. But they aren’t passengers trains. They are iron ore trains, taking away the Minas Gerais mountains, just like the back then with the gold.
I usually spend a lot of time on Google Earth creating new routes and exploring remote areas. I’m really intrigued by our state’s history specially because it’s not well told and there are many gaps. I guess when you found some gold, you wouldn’t go around talking about it. There are places and ruins and stories that diverge and nobody knows about. There is this one town that it’s said it was the first place a considerable amount of gold was found. So it was my plan for Thursday.
I woke up at 7 and thirty minutes later I was already pedaling. On the first kilometers along the road I spot two cyclists far in the horizon. They seem to be on a more easy going rhythm so it doesn’t take long for me to catch up with them. Turns out one of them is a guy I never met personally but we always exchanged likes on Strava. We laugh about it how technology sometimes can turn virtual into reality. They were also putting kilometers in for the challenge. I tell them I’m heading to Itaverava and he tells me that if my legs are good by the time I get there that I should keep going because the roads are great and the further, the less traffic. At last he tells me there will be a peloton ride Saturday morning 6:30am and that I should join them.
I get to Itaverava and it feels like I just started riding, so I follow his advice and keep riding. I only stopped twice. When I got a flat and when I hit the cobbles, 60km later. I’m told from there on the road ain’t nice anymore so I sit on this small village square, buy two cold waters and a chocolate and start heading back. The ride was so pleasant it didn’t matter it was noon and 40 degrees Celsius. When I got home I realized I had just accomplished another achievement. Two granfondos in a week.
On Friday morning my brother and I convinced our cousin to join us on a ride across the Maracuja mountain. One of the finest dirt road short loops of the region. Mid way to the top I start feeling really beat up of all the climbing of the previous days. I guess completing the challenge around here is a lot tougher than if I was in flat Rio. Specially on dirt roads. When I got home I figured the peloton ride should do the rest for completing the challenge. I install my daughter’s bike seat on my mountain bike and we go on a short adventure along the train tracks so she could also be part of the #festive500. One of the youngest riders, I’m sure. Every kilometer counts.
I wake up Saturday and there’s a message from the peloton guy saying they will leave 30 minutes earlier. So I was already late. I get to the meeting point and they were already gone. I feel a bit relieved. I don’t think I would have been able to keep up with them. But I still had to ride anyways. The city was waking up, the people had smiles on their faces as if they were satisfied the year was ending and that tomorrow there would be a chance of a new start. I stopped by a bakery and got bread. Headed home to have a proper breakfast with my daughter and wife. I figured there would be no better way to finish the challenge than going on a bike ride with them.
After 500.8km and 6465m climbed it seems a bit clear now, it all makes sense somehow. From the first day, riding in Rio, taking the Portuguese road inland and then riding the forgotten paths of the smugglers that shaped this land, I guess I found the gold I was looking for. Fernando Biagioni 2017
