Showing posts with label ride for hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ride for hope. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

When Grown Men Cry

At the starting line on the morning of April 26. Photo by and property of the author

Last Sunday, April 26, we had the seventh edition of the Ride for Hope that was the shortest in terms of distance. It turned out to be the most meaningful of them all.

Following the last fundraising ride for Bahay Aruga, the Team decided to help the halfway home with its planned blood drive set for April 29. C-j and I decided on an April 26 date to invite bikers to visit Bahay Aruga and challenge them to be part of the blood-letting activity.

I had to read up for myself why a blood drive would be essential to Bahay Aruga, which offers free services to pediatric cancer patients. It turns out that chemotherapy destroys not only the harmful cancer cells in one's body, but also the healthy ones, thus leaving many patients suffering from low blood cell counts. Blood transfusions help alleviate the situation by providing patients a fresh supply of blood cells their body can use as they recover and fight the cancer.

With this understanding, we proceeded to promote our planned Ride on social media. The response blew us away, as interest in the Ride drove up the numbers for our Facebook page to record levels. I was particularly excited and a bit apprehensive at the same time, as I had no idea how to marshal a large group should one ever materialize.

Ride for Hope 7 route, from Bisikleta Republika in Sucat to Bahay Aruga in Manila. It is the shortest Ride by far, stretching a little over 22 kilometers. Courtesy of ridewithgps.com

On the morning of the Ride, however, excitement turned to utter disappointment as the riders we had invited to join failed to materialize. A quick check of Facebook revealed that we had scheduled our Ride on Earth Day Weekend, with the hugely popular Tour of the Fireflies drawing away most of our target crowd.
A largely empty Chino Roces Avenue. Photo by and property of the author

***
With a heavy heart, I managed to push away from the starting line at Bisikleta Republika at exactly 5:45 Sunday morning. With Switchfoot's "Love Alone is Worth the Fight" beating in my ear, I made good progress and found myself in the City of Makati within an hour. Traffic was non-existent, which somehow eased my trip and lifted my spirits.
Earth Day Run along Gil Puyat (Buendia) Avenue. Photo by and property of the author

Turning into Buendia, I came upon the annual Earth Day Run and enjoyed the empty roads. I could not help but feel a bit sad, though, as it reminded me how our cause had gotten lost in the hoopla of Earth Day. Nevertheless, I pushed on towards the rendezvous point at the Rajah Sulayman Park in Manila and waited for my companions to arrive.

It was around 8:00am when the rest of the Riders arrived. Two of the group were newbies to road riding: Charlou, a student I was mentoring at our church, and Vents, who was C-j's younger brother. Rounding up the group was their elder brother Jason, an accomplished distance rider in his own right, with trips to Baguio, Cavite, Rizal, and the Ilocos under his belt. Aside from C-j and I, though, all were newcomers to the cause of advocacy riding.
The Ride for Hope 7 team at Rajah Sulayman Park. From right: C-j, Jason, Vents, Charlou, and the author. Photo by and property of the author

After a short rest (Vents was adjusting quite badly to his first ride, with aching legs and joints at this point), the five of us pushed on for the short hop towards Bahay Aruga. We stopped awhile to purchase some treats (specifically, Mogu Mogu drinks) for the kids. Once we had everything ready, we strolled towards Bahay Aruga and our hearts dropped at the sight that welcomed us.
A "guard of honor"--kids of Bahay Aruga with their parents--welcomes our Team. Photo by and property of the author

A small crowd of kids and their parents were standing in front of the home, soaking in the sun. When they saw us coming, they met us with warm smiles and cheers, waving colorful hand-cut pennants they had made themselves. All of us in the Team looked around and at each other, unable to comprehend what was happening. It was only when Ma'am Mayette Bonilla of Bahay Aruga came out of the door and met us when it made sense to us that the guard of honor was for us.


C-j's brother Jason's heart melted at the sight, and he went off with C-j to the nearby 7-11 to get more treats for the kids. Meanwhile, a fellow donor from a group of toy collectors came and brought a ton of toys and food supplies. Charlou, Vents, and Jason helped with the offloading while C-j and I turned over our humble treats, consisting of Mogu Mogu drinks and donuts.
C-j supervises the turnover of our humble treats. Photo by and property of the author
With the kids of Bahay Aruga. Say "Mogu Mogu!" Photo by and property of the author

After meeting the kids and having a short talk with ma'am Mayette, our Team took its leave. Some of the kids sent us off with waves and smiling faces. As soon as we rounded the corner and entered the shelter of Gonzales street, the tears came out of my eyes. It was some time before I had the strength to rejoin the others.

***
Indeed, 22 kilometers is a short trip by Ride for Hope standards, but for some of the kids at Bahay Aruga, life can be like that--a short hop. However, like this trip, it's about finding meaning that makes the journey quite fulfilling.

We Riders can go and pedal around the world for all its worth, but this seventh edition will always be special. For the first time, we were the ones on the receiving end of our advocacy efforts, as the kindness and sincerity of children fighting a glorious battle against cancer showed us what it meant to live with hope and dignity. It was a Ride that touched our hearts.

Bahay Aruga will be conducting its blood-letting drive in coordination with the PGH Blood Bank on April 29 starting 8:00am. You can visit them at 1131 San Marcelino Street, Ermita, Manila (between Emilio Aguinaldo College Buildings 7 & 8). Look for Ms. Mayette Bonilla.

UPDATE: The first Bahay Aruga blood drive held last April 29 at the Emilio Aguinaldo College (EAC) Building 6 enjoyed a successful turnout, hitting the required minimum quota at 11:30am . Our deepest thanks goes to the donors, the PGH Blood Bank staff, EAC College of Nursing, Joy Christian Fellowship, and to everyone who became part of this event.


This Ride, we won't forget. Photo by and property of the author




Wednesday, February 25, 2015

The Perfect Ride


The kids at Bahay Aruga with their parents during a Christmas celebration led by (from right) Steph Alcantara, Cat Zuniga, Ride for Hope 6 rider C-j Indiongco, and Ara Laingo. Photo by and property of the author.

The children entered the room in disciplined fashion, some with shy, quiet smiles, others with warm, greeting chuckles and grins. Save for the sterile facemasks and thinning hair, one would think this was the perfect home, with jolly yet well-behaved kids and hard-working parents to boot. But there was a lingering presence, an unseen, ominous He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, yet known to each of the residents, that threatened to shatter the perfectness of the atmosphere—and its name was Death.

This is Bahay Aruga (literally "House of Care"), a halfway home along San Marcelino Street in Manila, with a mission of bringing adequate care to kids with cancer—for free. Children from various parts of the country who are fighting the Big C come here for a place to stay during the tortuous treatment regimen they undergo in hospitals around the area. Considering the cost of chemo or radiation therapy, having a home near the hospital is a significant boon; receiving board and lodging plus more, a bonanza akin to winning the lottery, especially in this age where most essentials don’t come for free.

It was during the run-up to Ride for Hope 5 last year that our friend Ara first raised the idea of helping Bahay Aruga, which was near her school. A week after we concluded that Ride she then invited us for a Christmas program for the kids at the halfway home, and on the morning of December 20, 2014, we found ourselves mingling with these kids. Each had a quiet dignity around them that somehow left us reeling in admiration and respect. If anyone among our group felt pity, it was never shown at all.

C-j and I learned in our ensuing conversation with Ms. Mayette, the owner and managing director of Bahay Aruga, that keeping the services free was, obviously, a constant struggle. “I’ve had to delay renovating the place and expanding it because of more pressing needs, like medicine, food, or electricity,” she explained. There was no need for C-j and I to exchange words, as we both agreed on the spot that this was the mission for Ride for Hope 6.

We initially intended to have Ride for Hope 6 on February 4, World Cancer Day, but since this fell on a weekday, we settled for the nearest Saturday, February 7, instead. Incidentally, it was also the date nearest C-j’s 25th birthday. Getting the encouraging news from Aklan that our intended recipients had received the proceeds from Ride for Hope 5—a sewing machine for the livelihood of a women’s group—gave us further confidence to pursue this new course.
Our planned route. Courtesy of ridewithgps.com
It was actually, at least for me, a homecoming of sorts: The first two Rides for Hope, dubbed “Padyak Pag-asa,” were for the benefit of the Cancer Warriors Foundation. The route involved climbing up Tagaytay and sprinting back towards our church in Intramuros as the finish line. When supertyphoon “Haiyan” happened in 2013, Ride for Hope became a mercy mission, first with the goal of raising funds for relief, and eventually for the rehabilitation of the storm-hit areas. It was also during this time when Ride ceased to be a solo endeavor, as C-j and several of our biker friends came aboard. Thus, for Ride 6 to return to its original calling, as well as its home course, evoked certain emotions that I was to discover later on.

***
On the morning of February 7, C-j and I prepared for this sixth edition of Ride for Hope with the usual excitement and pre-ride anxiety. Only the two of us would be available for this trip since most of the team had prior commitments. Nevertheless, we both agreed that we had to push on, since this was a trip for the kids at Bahay Aruga and not for ourselves.

Let's do this! Photo by and property of author.


Setting out after a quick prayer at the Bisikleta Republika shop at around 5:20am, the two of us headed towards BF Homes in Parañaque for the hop towards Daang Hari road, which would then take us to Cavite. There was not much road traffic as we came into Daang Hari, but the road wasn’t completely empty, either. Several weekend riders came upon us, saluting us with their bells or a polite wave. Our pacing was good, and we managed to keep ourselves from sprinting in the early morning light. Soon enough, we reached Paliparan Road, where the sun started to make its appearance.

Good morning, world: The sun comes up at Paliparan Road. Photo by and property of the author.
Probably the only issues we had at this point were the bathroom breaks that came every five kilometers or so since it was quite chilly. Skipping our drinks was, of course, out of the question. So when the sun finally pushed through the early morning light by the time we reached Aguinaldo Highway in Dasmariñas, it was a welcome sight, although C-j preferred riding in the cold (he even removed his sleeve warmers at this point).

At the Silang town arch. Photo by and property of the author.
 
When you see the road rising into the distance, keep your head down. Photo by and property of the author.
The road rises significantly at this point, and it’s easy to get discouraged especially for the uninitiated. It was here where C-j’s vastly-improved climbing skills showed, as I struggled to keep pace with him and regularly found myself dropping behind. At times, the gap between us would grow up to 10 minutes, but thankfully, C-j would slow down from time to time to allow me to catch up.

At Kilometer 49, though, I ran out of gas.

I looked up from my pedaling and saw the road rise up into the distance. It’s so long! my mind screamed. My pedaling grew slower and my breathing grew heavier. I felt chilly (the air was quite cool, though) but I was sweating buckets. My legs started to feel like jelly and my head felt light.

I dismounted by the side of the road and tried to take stock of what I was feeling. What is it? What’s wrong with me? my mind wondered. I recalled having the same symptoms when I had heat exhaustion some years back, but it was not that hot at all. What’s happening?

After getting some strength in my legs back, I got off the bike and sat in the shade of a parked truck. I gulped down some Gatorade and took the last energy bar I had, eating slowly and waiting to see if I would throw it up (a sure symptom of heat exhaustion, as the body dumps materials in your digestive tract in order to cool down). Thankfully my food and drink stayed down. I texted C-j telling him I wasn’t feeling well.

A few moments later C-j called me up to see if I needed help. He was already at Km.51. “No, stay there—I think I just need something to eat,” I replied, spying some turon (bananas wrapped in egg white wrapper and deep-fried and coated in caramelized sugar) a few steps from where I sat. After hanging up, I promptly walked over to the stand where a little manang was busy working in her roadside kitchen and bought the last stick on display.

The lone turon left after I gobbled the first. Photo by author.

It was heaven. The freshly-cooked turon did wonders not only for my tummy but also for my spirit. Maybe because it was still warm, or that it was cooked to my taste (not too spongy and having just the right amount of wrapper). It was better than the chocolate bread I had had for breakfast a little over three hours ago.

As I munched down the turon, my mind had a little discussion on its own: Should I still push for the summit? I’m getting too old for this, I thought. Am I strong enough to finish this, let alone reach the top of Tagaytay?

Then I remembered those smiles of the kids at Bahay Aruga and my eyes grew misty. No, I can’t give up yet. But we’ll take this one kilometer at a time. Once we get to the summit, we’ll see if we can still push for the complete course. But at this point, no, we can’t turn back now, not when we’re this close to the top.

***
It was about half an hour later when I finally got on the bike. One kilometer at a time, I reminded myself. Gingerly I resumed pedaling, keeping my head down so that I didn’t see how long the road went, although I did glance up from time to time just so I wouldn’t run into something. I did see the distance marker by the roadside so I knew how far I still had to go. Kilometer 50. Only nine more kilometers to go to the summit.

C-j was relieved when I finally caught up with him at Km.51, as he had been waiting for quite some time. After a short rest, we resumed the climb. Thankfully, I felt better as the turon seemed to have renewed my energy reserves. I could actually smile again.

I looked up to see another long stretch of road rising before me. Meanwhile, on the other side of the road, cyclists who had overtaken us on the ascent were already homeward-bound, waving at us and slightly insulting me in the process. I can’t give up. I gritted my teeth and pedaled some more. This one’s for the kids.

Suddenly, about a hundred meters from where I was, C-j stopped by the roadside and got off his bike. He was pointing at something beside the road, and grinning. My eyes followed where he was pointing and immediately felt a flood of relief in my heart.

It was the Tagaytay City boundary marker.

At the Tagaytay City limits. Photo by and property of the author.
***
Some 20 minutes later we were at the summit, the Tagaytay City Rotunda. I chose to forego my traditional victory lap after C-j reminded me of it. “No, not this time,” I grinned wearily. After resting a bit and hydrating at the 7-11 store, we pushed on towards Mahogany to look for a place to crash in for lunch. We found a roadside sizzling steak house near the junction leading to Mahogany and Sky Ranch and opted to pit in.

The Tagaytay Rotunda gets a makeover. Photo by and property of the author.
Lunch was a blessing, as I opted for burger steak and lots of rice. The store owners were quite accommodating, even though C-j and I took our time there, staying for almost two hours just to get our strength back. C-j even had the chance to take a quick nap. We chatted about life, love, and other mysteries, and when our roll-out time neared, we discussed our route. Could we still push for the long route towards Trece Martires or head back towards Carmona? We decided to play it by ear and make the choice as soon as we got down from Tagaytay.

At 12noon we got up from our table and back on our bikes. A quick check of Maia and C-j’s bike Kalloy showed no problems so far. We decided to head for Sky Ranch for a quick photo op, after which was the long road down Tagaytay via Amadeo.

At Sky Ranch, because we're in Tagaytay. Photo by and property of the author.
We turned into Crisanto delos Reyes Avenue and let loose. A warm sun coupled with a cool breeze greeted us. Traffic was very light. I recounted to C-j those first two Rides for Hope where I soloed to Tagaytay via this road, and soon enough, the memories flooded in.
Going down Tagaytay via Crisanto delos Reyes Road. Photo by and property of the author.
It was five years ago when I first climbed this road, and I remembered those times I had been so close to giving up. I remembered the aching legs, the hot sun, the labored breathing. I remembered the frustration and drawing inspiration from my beloved Nanay Eunice, a cancer survivor who had taken me in as an extra son when I was a teenager. Coasting down Amadeo, with tears in my eyes, I sighed a prayer—for the kids at Bahay Aruga, for Nanay (who actually turned 60 last January), for my own dreams and desires. Thankfully, C-j had again put some distance between us so he didn’t have to see me tearing up.

***
At the Amadeo town marker. Photo by author.
It was about 1:30pm when we reached the end of Crisanto delos Reyes Avenue, at General Trias in Cavite. I had reckoned it would take us only 30 minutes to descend from Tagaytay, but for some reason it had taken longer. “I don’t remember that road to be that long!” I explained sheepishly to C-j. As we took stock of our situation, we weighed our options: Turn left towards Trece Martires and Naic and face the prospect of reaching home by 8:00pm at the earliest, or turn right towards Carmona and shorten our course by several kilometers and getting home before sunset.

“Let’s just go the long route,” C-j declared, and I agreed. We were already here, after all. I checked the map and verified it would be 15 kilometers to our next waypoint in Naic, where we would be turning right towards the town of Tanza and back home. “Let’s do this!” we said to each other, and resumed our trek towards Trece Martires.

Three kilometers later, we spied the monument to the 13 martyrs of Cavite. We both got excited, as we knew the turn going to Tanza was quite near. Sure enough, five minutes away from the monument, we turned right. Was the map wrong? C-j and I wondered. Surely it should have been 12 kilometers more to our next waypoint?

The monument to the 13 martyrs in Trece Martires. Photo by and property of the author.
The answer would come later, as I checked our actual route against the planned one: We had turned right earlier than expected, shortening our route by 10 kilometers. We had failed to reach Naic, but that discovery would come after this Ride. At the moment, we were both relieved we were making good progress, reaching Tanza at 2:00pm.

As C-j once again took the lead, I turned my attention to some concerns. My right wrist was now aching badly, like the joint was inflamed or something. Every two minutes I was shaking my hands to loosen them up. It was also a good thing the road was slightly downhill, as I felt the onset of cramps. I rested my legs whenever I could, letting gravity drive me forward.
Puregold supermarket in Tanza. Photo by and property of the author.
 At Tanza proper, we turned right towards the Diversion Road that would take us through the Cavite Economic Zone in General Trias. This time around, the wind was not on our faces but behind our backs, aiding our homeward journey greatly. I noted to myself that the first time C-j and I had traversed this route, he was behind me, slogging through a stiff breeze. This time, though, I was behind him, and I was still slogging.
Welcome to Bacoor! Photo by and property of the author.
By 4:04pm, we reached Bacoor and pitted at a bakery to refill and rest. We stayed for about 10 minutes and got back on our bikes again, our spirits starting to soar. Traffic was starting to build up as we reentered Aguinaldo Highway, but it was not much of an issue. We just pedaled on, taking care to avoid pedestrians and vehicles. My legs and my wrist still ached, though, and I did try my best to keep my attention focused on the road. There was more traffic to deal with when we reached Quirino Road, but even so, as C-j and I weaved through the cars and jeeps stuck in the rush-hour buildup, we only had our sights set on the finish line.
At SM Bacoor, with our final waypoint not long off. Photo by and property of the author.
And come it did, sooner than we had expected: At 4:43pm, we reached our final waypoint together at C-5 Extension in Las Piñas. From here on, it was going to be a solo ride to our respective finish lines, C-j heading back towards Tondo and me going back to Sucat. The moment deserved a high-five and a selfie, along with a prayer of thanks. There was no denying the feeling of accomplishment, but more than that, deep in our hearts, both C-j and I knew this meant more to the kids at Bahay Aruga that we were riding for. This was their Ride.

***
The official distance for Ride for Hope 6 is 134.2kms, owing to the unplanned shortcut through Tanza that should have brought the Ride to close to 150kms. This ride lasted for 11 hours, 38 minutes, including rest stops (with about nine hours spent on the bike), and can be considered one of the fastest the Team has done (although I would only reach home three hours later). With virtually no equipment glitches or physical injuries, this is considered a perfect Ride.
The actual route taken by the Ride for Hope 6 Team missed Naic by 12 kilometers, dramatically shortening the Ride but still challenging, at the least. Courtesy of ridewithgps.com
I guess that’s one way to view this life, after everything’s been said and done, after you’ve overcome the long climb up Tagaytay or slogged through Cavite with a stiff wind in front of you, and you realize God has been taking care of you all along and you’ve managed to reach your destination in better shape. For the kids in Bahay Aruga, their journey holds much uncertainty, as most of the time they have no idea whether their own bodies will get them to the next significant waypoint in their lives.

Nevertheless, I am encouraged, by the smiles on their faces and the sincerity of their hearts, that theirs is not a worthless journey. Their Ride through this life may be long or short, but it will surely be an epic one, with mountains to climb and obstacles to conquer. We at Team Ride for Hope are privileged to be part of their ride, and it is our hope that you can help us help them too, that no matter the duration of their life’s journey, they can have the hope that it will be a very worthwhile one.

In other words, the perfect ride.
C-j and me celebrating at the final waypoint at C5 Extension in Las Pinas. Thank you Lord for a perfect ride. Photo by and property of the author.
 ***
For pledges and donations to Ride for Hope 6, contact Team Ride for Hope or team principal Marvin Kenneth M. Santos via Facebook. You can also visit Bahay Aruga along San Marcelino street in Manila, near Emilio Aguinaldo College.

The Ride for Hope 6 Team wishes to thank Bisikleta Republika, our official kit sponsor and parts supplier; Jomel and Leony Medina; Cat Zuñiga; our home church Joy Christian Fellowship; and of course, our Lord who has made such a perfect Ride possible.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Going the Distance



A road train of blue and green: The Ride for Hope 5-Team Bisikleta Republika making its way through Morong, Rizal. Photo by and property of author.
The lights started going on as soon as we reached Pangil, Laguna. Our legs—and our hearts—quickened as daylight rapidly turned into night; with every turn of the wheel, darkness ran even faster, overtaking us in its embrace.

Kuya Sam and I were just about ready to make a run for it when we spied C-j by the side of the road, holding his hybrid road bike[1] upright. “What happened?” we asked.

“I was sprinting with Mikey and Chuckie when I ran onto some broken glass back there,” C-j replied, pointing to a spot where we came from not far away from where he stood. Kuya Sam and I immediately dismounted and checked our bikes’ tires as well. “Better be sure,” Kuya Sam said to me, and I nodded.

Meanwhile, C-j settled on the roadside and set to work, ripping out the front wheel’s inner tube and looking for the telltale puncture. Kuya Sam and I looked on, mindful of the growing darkness around us, but trying our best to keep calm.

***
The build-up to this adventure we had gotten ourselves into started exactly one year ago. On November 8, 2013, the most powerful typhoon on earth to date slammed into the central Philippines, leaving a path of unimaginable destruction. “Yolanda” (Haiyan) laid waste most of the Visayas islands, most notably the city of Tacloban, with a storm surge almost 20 feet high and 200-plus kilometer winds.

Two days later, Ride of Hope 3 launched, attempting to raise support for the survivors in the Visayas. Despite the team failing to summit Tagaytay City, the effort was enough to raise funds for a family in Iloilo to repair their storm-damaged home. Meanwhile, by the end of the month I had become part of a relief team that surveyed the destruction in Leyte province, leaving an indelible impression in my heart and nightmares in my sleep.

At the turn of the year, I got in touch with someone from our college organization in UP Diliman who was trying to do her part in the relief effort. Chai Yumul enlisted the help of friends and relatives to send balikbayan boxes to the storm-ravaged province of Aklan, which was hardly in the news. Considering the outpouring of relief in Tacloban and the province of Leyte from other countries and aid organizations, I readily agreed that concentrating our little effort towards other areas that equally needed assistance was the more practical way to help.

Our first opportunity came in April, on the Day of Valor (Araw ng Kagitingan). A new riding team assembled and summited Tagaytay City, and Ride 4 Hope was able to raise enough money to buy a new roof for a day care center in Barangay Calizo in Aklan.

C-j and I take a selfie before riding out on the morning of November 8.


It was this scenario that both C-j and I had in mind at the conclusion of our foolhardy trip around Laguna Lake last August. We both agreed the course was doable enough for an epic ride; however, I was looking more towards something that could be replicated within a specific time frame, a challenge to others who could not be part of the Ride Team. With the success of the infamous “Ice Bucket Challenge,” C-j and I both concluded a “Laguna Loop Challenge” was somewhat possible.

***
In the weeks leading up to the Ride, Chai and I finalized our intention to raise funds so that the survivors in Aklan could have a self-sustaining livelihood. With a definite purpose to work for, we initiated the Ride for Hope 5 project and assembled our riding team: road-ripping C-j Indiongco, from Tondo; scrappy Mikey Casilum from Cubao; speed monster Ronnel Ramos from Pasig; downhill specialist Kuya Sam Traballo from Cainta, Rizal; and epic rider Chuckie Zabella from San Pablo, Laguna.

The November 8 launch date was chosen to compensate for my preferred date (November 10, my birthday, which falls on a Monday) as well as to accommodate the personal commitments of the riders. It was only later when we realized it was the first anniversary of the Haiyan disaster; the significance of the date was not lost on anyone in the team.

Four days before launch, our friend Roselynn came down with dengue, and we joined her in praying and monitoring her platelet count, which was dropping steadily. The next day, Wednesday, my girlfriend Cat and I trooped to the hospital to have my blood drawn and provide a reserve source of blood platelets[2]. The medical technicians, however, had problems drawing blood from me, which left both my arms aching from the procedure more than usual.

A further blow struck the riding team that day: Mikey’s bike “Ato” was stolen from his house in Cubao. As Mikey went to the authorities to report the loss, we had to scramble for a replacement so Mikey could ride. We were also concerned with his state of mind, but we decided letting him ride was a better idea than leaving him to mope around.

On the day before the Ride, we scampered about, finalizing our preparations. However, Maia’s supplies got delayed, so we had to rush her final check-up, including replacing her rear wheel’s inner tube. C-j showed up at the house nursing a bad cold. Meanwhile, we were to learn later that Kevin, one of Chuckie’s riding companions, had lost his bike as well. With the stress of the last few days—and the challenge that now faced us less than six hours away—the riders struggled to fall asleep, only to be rudely awakened three hours later by our alarm clocks, and our bodies hardly refreshed.

***
Saturday morning came on us earlier than usual. After a brief prayer for Chuckie and his team (which had a three-hour headstart on us as they came from San Pablo), C-j and I swung into action, readying ourselves and our gear.

Despite our hurried preparations, we found out we still missed out on a couple of essential items. C-j was unable to bring a spare inner tube for his bike; I forgot to pack my utility carabiner and a bottle of rubbing alcohol (for wounds, just in case). I actually almost forgot to bring my water supply! We finally managed to push off from the Bisikleta Republika shop near our house in Sucat at around 5:30am towards our 6:00am rendezvous in Taytay, Rizal.

Turning into C-6 road, which was our direct route to the McDonald’s meet-up area in Taytay, we were met by thick smog. Breathing became difficult, so C-j and I quickened the pace to get out of the foul-smelling cloud. As soon as we were out of it, however, we became aware of the road’s numerous potholes and broken portions, turning the highway into a five-kilometer dirt trail. C-j and I were on edge, praying in our minds that we wouldn’t get flat tires here, so early into our journey. Thankfully we managed to navigate C-6 safely and without incident.

Navigating C-6 on the morning of November 8 through a mixture of smoke and fog. Photo by and property of the author.
We managed to stay on a relaxed pace despite the fact that we were playing hurry-up to the rest of the Manila team, which, by this time, had assembled at our staging point. I even had time to enjoy the sunrise (which I didn’t capture on camera so that I could just appreciate it). One hour later, we linked up with Ronnel, Mikey, and Kuya Sam, along with some of Ronnel’s friends who were tagging along until up to the foot of the mountains in Pililla, Rizal.

Team Bisikleta Republika (TBR)-Manila before setting out from Taytay, Rizal. From right: Mikey, Kuya Sam, C-j, and Ronnel and his friends. Photo by and property of the author.
We excitedly donned our sponsored riding kits. For the first time ever, Ride for Hope had a distinct riding kit and Joy Ride Club became a "factory works" team; for this trip, we became officially known as “Team Bisikleta Republika” (TBR). Our official and long-time parts supplier, Bisikleta Republika, had us outfitted in sleek blue-and-neon-green kits that were simply marvelous to look at—and highly visible for the night portion of the Ride. Our bikes also had new race bibs the size of billboards, which guaranteed the attention of both pedestrians and motorists alike, much to our delight.

People back home also got into the project as well. Friends posted messages of encouragement and prayers of safety, as well as sharing our promotional video to ask for pledges and support.

Gennabel (left) and Cat show their support for Ride for Hope 5. Photo courtesy of Cat Zuniga.
As TBR-San Pablo (Chuckie and his co-riders) reached the outskirts of Metro Manila, TBR-Manila (C-j, Mikey, Kuya Sam, Ronnel and Co., and me) pushed off from Taytay at a little past 7:00 am towards our first stop in Binangonan, Rizal. There were a lot of bikers on the road to keep us company, acknowledging our presence with smiles, nods, and bell rings. This kept our spirits up as we made quick progress towards our first stopover.

***
The Binangonan checkpoint was only a stone’s throw away from where Maia lost her front wheel during our first journey back in August. I was a bit worried as we came near the spot, fearing the same ghosts would haunt me anew. It was also at this point where Maia started to exhibit some problems with the left-hand pedal, which added to my fears.

Stopover in Binangonan. The store where we were supposed to buy ice candy is in the background; there was none available for us to enjoy. Photo by and property of the author.
 A bit of disappointment came over the team as we pitted for our first stop, as we found out there was none to be had of the famous ice candy we had all looked forward to. Nevertheless, some of our group settled for breakfast at a nearby eatery while Kuya Sam looked over Maia’s creaking pedal. I was worried it would break off at some point, especially during the Bugarin climb, but Kuya Sam assured me it would be ok.

News came that TBR-San Pablo had pitted somewhere in Muntinlupa City for a flat tire and some breakfast. I became a bit worried this would affect our timeline, and hoped they could be back on the road soon. We decided to push on towards Hacienda Pisong Kape in Pililla, Rizal, and wait for Chuckie and his friends there.

Mikey (left) and Ronnel have some fun by creating videos on the road. Photo by and property of the author.
This part of the journey was uneventful, save for a little incident at the outskirts of Morong, as I was taking footage of the Riders. Seeing us pedal in a line in identical kits was (at least for me) an awe-inspiring sight, and after making sure the road was clear, I drifted to the left to take pictures and video.

A tricycle rapidly came up from behind. I had heard the engines so I drifted back onto the right side of the road to let the tricycle pass, but not fast enough to escape the tricycle driver’s ire. “Mga siga kayo ah! Parang sa inyo ang kalsada! Mga g_go!” the guy screamed out at us, accompanied by his trike’s blaring horn, as he passed our group at high speed. We shook our heads, wondering who was actually hogging the road for his own.

***
We reached Hacienda Pisong Kape without further incident, although at this point we were able to rejoin Ronnel’s friends, who managed to get separated from us coming out of Morong. We settled down for some real food and rest. We decided to wait for TBR-San Pablo here, at the foot of the famous Bugarin climb.

At the Hacienda Pisong Kape in Pililla, Rizal, a popular stop for cyclists and non-cyclists alike on the Manila East Road, which is the road to the right of the photo. Photo by and property of the author.
The enforced downtime made sure I was able to post an update on the Ride to Facebook. Seeing the messages of support warmed our hearts. We kept reminding ourselves what the Ride was for, and this buoyed our spirits a lot.

Soon, Ronnel and his friends took their leave, pedaling back towards Pasig, due to some prior commitments. This provided us a welcome break that allowed us to rest more comfortably and to talk about some personal matters, such as Mikey’s love life. It also gave me time to look at Maia’s parts and see if there were any further problems.

The pause to allow Chuckie and his co-riders to link up with us turned into a three-hour wait. We were concerned the layoff had caused us to lose our initial momentum, but even more so at the prospect of finishing the Ride later than we had anticipated. After communicating to Chuckie to rendezvous with us at the Bugarin view deck, the four of us—C-j, Mikey, Kuya Sam, and me—pushed out towards the mountains.

***
The “view deck” in the village of Bugarin, which was actually just a cluster of roadside shops that afforded the best view of Laguna Lake, is situated some 250 meters above sea level. To get there, one had to negotiate gentle curves, long inclines, and switchbacks that could prove tortuous to the uninitiated.

Kuya Sam and Mikey chat with Chris, a solo rider we meet at the "view deck" of the famous Bugarin climb. C-j smiles for the camera. Photo by and property of the author.
We reached the view deck an hour after pushing off from Hacienda Pisong Kape. It was good running, all things being considered. Waiting for TBR-San Pablo, less than an hour away, also gave us opportunity to rest and to chat with some of the tourists there, particularly those who noticed us because of our superb kits (thanks, Bisikleta Republika!) and the race bibs on the bikes. It was a wonderful opportunity to tell them what Ride for Hope was all about, but at best, when they learned the activity was about asking for pledges and support, the response was, “Ingat kayo ha (take care), good luck!”

After almost 12 hours of hard riding, Chuckie links up with the Manila team. He is welcomed onto the "view deck" by Kuya Sam. Photo by and property of the author.
To our relief, Chuckie came up the road and onto the deck, followed by the rest of his team about 15 minutes later. It felt good having our team completed at last. After a few more minutes of rest, we got back on our bikes. We then pushed on for about two or three more kilometers of hard climbing, followed by the dip back towards level ground that most of us were looking forward to.

Selfie at Kilometer 68. From here onwards, the road goes downhill; about a hundred meters from where I am standing, one crosses into Laguna province. Photo by and property of the author.
It was here that I started to experience my own riding problems. Coming up Bugarin, I had removed my warmers because I was sweating due to the climb. Forgetting to put them back on was a mistake; as we crested the summit and the road went downhill, the cool air coming from the Laguna side of the mountain developed into a blast that numbed my arms and made it hard for me to grasp the brakes, let alone the handlebars.

Resting at the Mabitac-Siniloan junction. We are so, so far...
This went on for about a third of an hour or so, and by the time we reached level ground at the foothills of Mabitac, Laguna, my hands and arms were tingling with pain. I kept shaking them to get the circulation back, but still, the painful feeling lingered. At the junction between Siniloan and Mabitac, we got off the bikes to eat a bit and get our energy back, and somehow the tingling eased up a little.

As we pushed on towards the town of Famy, I couldn’t stand the cold, tingling feeling in my arms anymore. I stopped and put my warmers back on and motioned for the others to go on ahead. It was about 5:00pm but it felt more like 6:00, as days are shorter this time of the year. We started to pick up the pace, and it was at the town of Pangil, Laguna, that C-j experienced the first flat tire for TBR-Manila for the day.

***
C-j found the puncture in no time at all. The reserve tube I had given him was no good, as it was several sizes bigger than his road tire. “I’ll have to vulcanize—patch this tire up,” he said, grinning and in no way worried. I took the chance to post a Facebook update and to check our location on the map. Out of nowhere, Cat called us up and that eased my nervousness a bit. She was concerned the rest of our trip would be in the dark, but hearing her voice felt reassuring, and it steeled our resolve to get back home as well.

C-j repairs his bike's punctured tire as Kuya Sam looks on. Photo by and property of the author.
The call ended abruptly, and Kuya Sam asked me to check our bearings again. I checked the map. “We’re in Pangil, Laguna,” I responded confidently.

“Sure?” Kuya Sam asked.

“Yup, 100 percent,” I responded, showing him the map on my phone. I pointed out the landmarks. “That’s the Iglesia ni Cristo church over there, and there’s a cemetery right about there,” I pointed down the road.

“Wow, that map is accurate!” Kuya Sam replied. He pointed to an arch behind us, and in capital letters, etched in metal, the words PANGIL MUNICIPAL CEMETERY jumped out at us.

“Hoy, Ceej, are you finished back there?” I asked, my feet growing cold.

“I’m done,” he replied, slapping the repaired wheel back into place. In about two minutes we were back on our bikes, pedaling away as fast as we could in the growing darkness.

***
As is common in many rural areas in the Philippines, our group had to deal with the lack of streetlights on the Manila East Road, an alternative thoroughfare for motorists heading towards the interior of Laguna province. Darkness covered us like a blanket. Maia’s headlights could provide illumination only up to eight feet ahead of me at best (we all wore blinkers, though, but that light was not enough). For the most part we were forced to rely on the headlamps of vehicles coming up from behind or in front of us so we could see what lay ahead. In my mind, however, I was praying that we would not have any more flat tires, especially in the dark places where any tire change would be impossible.

We forged through Pangil, Pakil, Paete (the famous town of woodcarvers), and into the town of Kalayaan. We saw bright lights up in the mountains ahead and knew instantly it was the hydroelectric plant that harnessed the water coming from Lake Caliraya as it emptied into Laguna de Bay. We pedaled on; there was no sign of our advance group yet. We hoped they were waiting for us somewhere.

At the foot of the mountains, the road rises around 200 feet or so to accommodate the hydroelectric plant’s spillway underneath. It was the last long climb for the ride. We willed our aching legs to pedal on, until we reached the top of the road and had a majestic view of the hydroelectric plant beneath us, and Laguna Lake in the darkness beyond.

The Kalayaan Hydroelectric Plant at night is still a sight to behold. Photo by and property of the author.
“Kaya pa?” C-j and I asked Kuya Sam, who was visibly winded. He gave the thumbs-up sign and asked for water, and we gave him some. After a few minutes rest, we resumed our trek.

Coming down from Kalayaan gave us the shivers: The road was pitch-black ahead. There was no way to see where we were going—it was like biking downhill with your eyes closed. Thankfully a car came from the opposite direction and lit up the road, in time for us to avoid crashing onto the metal barrier at the end of the slope.

We finally caught up with the rest of the team at a gasoline station, and our journey as a group resumed. As soon as we reached Pagsanjan (which was impressively well-lighted), we decided it was time for dinner. It was around 7:00pm when we came upon a quaint restaurant called “Binalot sa Dahon” where the staff welcomed us and had us park our bikes inside the compound.

At the Binalot sa Dahon restaurant in Pagsanjan. Photo by and property of the author.
We found a nipa shed in the middle of the inner compound and decided this was the best place to have dinner. We were still thinking of what to eat (and debating the cost) when a middle-aged woman came to take our orders.

“Tatlo pa lang ang nag-order kaya pinuntahan ko na kayo (Only three out of seven riders have placed their orders),” the lady declared amiably.

“Ano pong meron, Ate (What’s on the menu)?” Mikey asked.

“Liempo, grild pis, binagoongan…”

“Ano yung ‘grild pis’?” C-j asked. He must have been thinking whether what he heard was “grilled peas” or “grilled fish,” so I answered for the lady that it was inihaw, or fish cooked on a grill. The woman nodded. C-j went for the fish, while I settled for liempo, and the rest chose other available viands, such as adobo or binagoongan. This was served wrapped in banana leaf together with a hunk of rice, a red tomato, and a hard-boiled egg. Needless to say, dinner was superbly delicious.

C-j and Chuckie dig in and enjoy their "grild pis." Photo by and property of the author.
***
We got back on the road soon after dinner. Passing the Pagsanjan Stone Arch called for the customary group shot. It was to be the last for our group. The team got separated again in Santa Cruz as Kuya Sam and I lagged behind in the darkness, unable to match the pace of younger legs. As we approached the town of Victoria, a light drizzle started to fall. By the time Chuckie and his group bid us farewell at the junction of Victoria and the road back to San Pablo, the drizzle was enough to discourage us from taking our cameras out for any group pictures.

At the Pagsanjan Stone Arch, for our last group photo. Photo by and property of the author.
It was a proud moment, though, as Team Bisikleta Republika-San Pablo had reached a milestone: they had already completed the Laguna Loop. The riders exchanged warm handshakes and hugs, while Chuckie gave his sincere thanks. “I should be the one thanking you,” I replied. “Thank you for being part of this Ride for Hope.”

***
Team Bisikleta Republika-Manila, composed of C-j, Mikey, Kuya Sam, and me, pushed on towards home. Home. It never felt so far away than here, with the darkness and the rain conspiring to discourage us. Meanwhile, my arms and back ached as my hands tingled in the cold. Our pace dropped from a comfortable 20kph to around a lagging 12 or 14 kilometers per hour, except for C-j, who kept peeling away from us and leaving us in his wake.

As the darkness embraced us and Maia’s headlights left me hopelessly frustrated (I could see no more than eight feet ahead and the lights were getting dimmer), my mind turned to a piece of Scripture: Your word is a lamp to my feet, a light unto my path. It was a stark reminder in faith—that sometimes, God provides just enough light through His Word for us to take the next step ahead. I just had to trust God to bring us home safely, while I keep on pedaling. This realization gave me some measure of comfort as we trudged on.

We passed Bay and entered Los Baños. The road here was better-lighted; nonetheless, a light but steady drizzle still fell on us, letting up as soon as we entered the city of Calamba. We took a brief rest, and C-j and I took the opportunity to change into drier clothes as my nose started getting a little runny, and we reckoned it would be dry the rest of the way (we were wrong in this aspect).

If there ever was a patron saint for us Riders, she would be it. Taking a break at St. Catherine's Pharmacy in Calamba, Laguna, for some rest and hot coffee and chocolate. Photo by and property of the author.
We reached the Calamba City crossing at a half-past ten. The drizzle resumed shortly afterwards, getting us cold and wet once more. We pushed through Cabuyao, then Santa Rosa, then Biñan, where we rested once more at a bakery to refuel and rest.

My arms and back ached mightily, while my hands tingled[3]. The others were quite tired as well. It was already midnight, and we still had a long way to go. We had to remind each other at this point why we were doing this: “Bakit nga ba natin ‘to ginagawa?” I would ask.

“Para sa Aklan,” came the reply, and we would climb back on our bikes and resume our slow trod towards the finish line.

***
After Biñan came the city of San Pedro, where I last crashed. Once again, we chose the flat route through the city center, but this time, upon reaching the railroad tracks, I insisted that we dismount and walk. The rain had left the tracks slippery for sure, and we saw this for ourselves as I reenacted my crash with a walk-through. Combined with the gap in the track, there was no way Maia’s wheels would have made it safely across without losing grip.

Resting and refueling our bodies at a bakery in Binan, Laguna. Our bodies are tired, but the Riders are still fighting for the people of Aklan at this point. Photo by and property of the author.
We canceled the photo-op at the San Pedro boundary and instead pedaled headlong into the City of Muntinlupa. We were back in Metro Manila! Realizing we were now in the homestretch, our legs pumped furiously, making short work of the villages in succession: Tunasan, Poblacion, Putatan, Bayanan, Alabang, Cupang, and finally, Sucat.

***
At 2:00am, Sunday, November 9, Team Bisikleta Republika arrived at the finish line. Starting from the Bisikleta Republika shop, C-j and I had covered a distance of 166.86 kilometers; Mikey, Kuya Sam, and C-j would add more to that total as they returned to their respective homes at early light. The team had also set some sort of unofficial endurance record for the Ride for Hope series, finishing at 22½ hours.

At the finish line, 22 1/2 hours later. Photo by C-j Indiongco and property of the author.
We let out a prayer of thanks as we wrapped up our long, grueling journey. We also prayed for the people whom we hoped to help with this Ride. Our trip may be finished, but the survivors of typhoon Haiyan in Aklan and elsewhere in the Visayas are still trudging through the long and oftentimes painful road to recovery. With this Ride for Hope, it is our prayer that we give them the means to go the distance, and eventually, to finish strong.

***
You can also participate in Ride for Hope 5 by taking the Laguna Loop Challenge. Take the journey around Laguna Lake on your bike on or before November 30, 2014, or pledge PhP200.00 to help the survivors of typhoon Haiyan in Aklan. Once you have completed your Laguna Loop, post your pictures on Facebook, tag Joy Ride Club or Bisikleta Republika, and nominate three of your friends to do the challenge as well.

The Ride for Hope 5 team wishes to thank Bisikleta Republika, our official kit sponsor and parts supplier; Jomel and Leony Medina; Joy Christian Fellowship; Cat Zuñiga and Gennabel Fernandez; and our respective families.

Ride for Hope 5-Team Bisikleta Republika (Manila). From left: Ronnel, C-j, Mikey, Kuya Sam, and the author. Photo property of the author.
Ride for Hope 5-Team Bisikleta Republika (Manila & San Pablo) at the Bugarin climb. From left: Mikey, Kuya Sam, C-j, the author, Kevin, Lemuel, and Chuck. Photo property of the author.


[1] A bike that combines elements of road and mountain bikes, usually the sturdier frame of a mountain bike with the thinner, faster wheels of a road bike.
[2]  Thankfully, Roselynn recovered soon after the transfusion and was out of the hospital in no time.
[3] I developed bruises on my arms the morning after, near the spot where I had my blood drawn three days earlier. Next time you’re going on an epic ride, you might consider not donating blood at least a week prior to your trip.