so this friend of ours is desperate to lose weight and decided to involve us in his exercise plan because we live nearby and we never say no to adventure. today we decided to cycle towards loma de la bestia. this is the hill that you see on your left, leaving POP towards santiago.
just past zona franca we turned left and took a dirt road leading up the mountains. this is not really a track suitable for cycling, i can tell you this. soon enough we were pushing bikes up the hill and i was cursing stupid ideas of stupid gringos. the next hour was six hours long and full of vitriol. the road is long and it continuously climbs up through farms. this is not land for agriculture, really. people grow beans, bananas, yuka and batatas but for personal use only. mostly it's just cows, horses and astonishing population of pigs who laboriously search through roadside ditches.
eventually we reached human dwellings and i was never this happy to hear screeches of romeo santos coming from a local colmado. we asked for sprite and gas water and the seller patiently pulled out of a freezer a bottle of the knock off cola and smiled. we smiled too and drunk the soda. at that point i would probably chopped off his head with a machete and lap up the blood if there was nothing else available.
the road split and we took left, roughly parallel to the main autopista to santiago only with alive dogs, more holes, more sand, more stones and, not surprisingly, a lot more pigs. at this point i wish i could say that we ploughed forward though the countryside but in reality we wheezed, puffed and whined sluggishly up the hill. this part of POP countryside has magnificent views. to the left: million dollar vista of the city and the ocean. to the right: jurassic part of hills, valleys and palms. to the front: pigs and piglets. future puerco navideno, i guess.
eventually the dirt track led to road which connects san marcos with whothehellcares. one would have thought our situation improved dramatically as suddenly we were able to start a descend towards POP. however, the road was, admittedly, quite wide but made out of packed large gravel. i did mention before that i have poor sense of balance. i walk into walls, door frames and mirrors all the time. i did not learn to ride a bike until ripe age of 12 and i have problems riding in a straight line. the gravel did not help. so i commenced a drop to hell, with face frozen in fear and hands firmly grasping the brakes and lips invoking all the gods known to a humankind. if you are normal and take this road by car you will note more fantastic views of the city which looks much better when you put some distance between yourself and its dubious charms.
soon enough we reached the bottom of the mountain and entered san marcos. if you have never been there - don't go. it's like every poor barrio in DR: loud, dirty and full of people who all stare at a bunch of white, sweaty folks riding bikes. the road is asphalted but covered in trash and the drivers pass way too close to cyclists. some undoubtedly contemplating whether there was any value in hitting us gently with a car door in order to rummage through one sad looking backpack we had between us. it is also not advisable to ride the main road out of POP. everyone seemed to be keen to honk at our weird looking party. maybe regular cyclist are used to this or they do not have a pair of chichis wedged into pink fluorescent racer back top two sizes too small.
the whole trip lasted about three hours and was tons of fun. if you plan on taking our route do not forget sunscreen, a hut and few bottles of water (we had 4 between us but it was not enough). also, either choose early morning or early afternoon. the heat at midday could likely give you a stroke.
just past zona franca we turned left and took a dirt road leading up the mountains. this is not really a track suitable for cycling, i can tell you this. soon enough we were pushing bikes up the hill and i was cursing stupid ideas of stupid gringos. the next hour was six hours long and full of vitriol. the road is long and it continuously climbs up through farms. this is not land for agriculture, really. people grow beans, bananas, yuka and batatas but for personal use only. mostly it's just cows, horses and astonishing population of pigs who laboriously search through roadside ditches.
eventually we reached human dwellings and i was never this happy to hear screeches of romeo santos coming from a local colmado. we asked for sprite and gas water and the seller patiently pulled out of a freezer a bottle of the knock off cola and smiled. we smiled too and drunk the soda. at that point i would probably chopped off his head with a machete and lap up the blood if there was nothing else available.
the road split and we took left, roughly parallel to the main autopista to santiago only with alive dogs, more holes, more sand, more stones and, not surprisingly, a lot more pigs. at this point i wish i could say that we ploughed forward though the countryside but in reality we wheezed, puffed and whined sluggishly up the hill. this part of POP countryside has magnificent views. to the left: million dollar vista of the city and the ocean. to the right: jurassic part of hills, valleys and palms. to the front: pigs and piglets. future puerco navideno, i guess.
eventually the dirt track led to road which connects san marcos with whothehellcares. one would have thought our situation improved dramatically as suddenly we were able to start a descend towards POP. however, the road was, admittedly, quite wide but made out of packed large gravel. i did mention before that i have poor sense of balance. i walk into walls, door frames and mirrors all the time. i did not learn to ride a bike until ripe age of 12 and i have problems riding in a straight line. the gravel did not help. so i commenced a drop to hell, with face frozen in fear and hands firmly grasping the brakes and lips invoking all the gods known to a humankind. if you are normal and take this road by car you will note more fantastic views of the city which looks much better when you put some distance between yourself and its dubious charms.
soon enough we reached the bottom of the mountain and entered san marcos. if you have never been there - don't go. it's like every poor barrio in DR: loud, dirty and full of people who all stare at a bunch of white, sweaty folks riding bikes. the road is asphalted but covered in trash and the drivers pass way too close to cyclists. some undoubtedly contemplating whether there was any value in hitting us gently with a car door in order to rummage through one sad looking backpack we had between us. it is also not advisable to ride the main road out of POP. everyone seemed to be keen to honk at our weird looking party. maybe regular cyclist are used to this or they do not have a pair of chichis wedged into pink fluorescent racer back top two sizes too small.
the whole trip lasted about three hours and was tons of fun. if you plan on taking our route do not forget sunscreen, a hut and few bottles of water (we had 4 between us but it was not enough). also, either choose early morning or early afternoon. the heat at midday could likely give you a stroke.
