25th Annual La Vuelta de Bisbee (A Slightly Fictionalized Version)

Emily Stacy Matthiessen

Aliens

This weekend an alien culture superimposed its world onto the main streets of Bisbee and the areas below our little mountain island. Hordes of shapely goggle-eyed serpent-helmeted beings clad in tight spandex, usually riding around on bicycles or in vans branded Saturn, crowded into our challenging mountain town. The bicycle racers and their vehicles were plastered in advertisements. So it goes, this reporter supposes.

Bisbee is conveniently located between two other bicycle races, one in California and one in New Mexico. (I learned that on the Internet.)

Bisbee Ahead

Inhabitants of Bisbee are accustomed to odd styles of dress and patterns of behavior, but here aberrance tends to be idiosyncratic; encountering the organized aberrance of the bicyclists many locals expressed feelings of consternation, amusement, or irritation. Some people have to work, after all. This town is not all vacation and games.

This reporter first noticed that something extraordinary was occurring in Bisbee when my co-workers began to show signs of nervousness and a tension that was not job related. That was Friday, the beginning of the superimposition.

Outside our building, Main Street was transforming into bicyclist territory. Rerouted by terse traffic authorities, car people seemed somewhat panicky; their self-confidence, or perhaps their dominance of the road, was challenged. In general those outside of cars appeared entertained by the activity. One man rode a unicycle. I didn't have a camera then.

Unruly Bicycle Begins to Float

In the days of La Vuelta the bicyclists would often assert dominance over the road; when not racing they would ride abreast, chatting of things that concern bicyclists, little minding the infuriated car drivers, who often had to cross lines to avoid them.

Although three races and one awards ceremony were planned, this reporter only made it to the event most conveniently located to her home. The finish line was in vicinity of the crosswalk between Grassy Park and the Convention Center. The finish line is an important symbol in the bicyclist culture. In La Vuelta it did not seem to symbolize an actual ending, rather a slowing down. Note that in the photograph the cyclists continue up Subway Street after crossing the finish line.

Nowhere to Go from Here but Up Subway

Some people waited at the finish line to express feelings of excitement as the bicyclists passed them in a self-generated current of sweat and ambition. Often the people cheered. They appeared to enjoy the race and all it symbolized. Perhaps they had insight into the culture of the bicyclists, although they differed from them in physical appearance.

Cop and Bikers

The local law enforcement also seemed to find pleasure in the bicyclists' ritual. With the help of volunteers, they assembled and guarded barriers to keep car people from their habitual paths, amused each other with siren bleeps, practiced bicycle and cop jargon, guzzled Red Bull brand energy drink, and exchanged pleasantries with motorcycle riders. Bicyclists are not referred to as bikers; that name is reserved for their more physically imposing cultural cousins.

This photographer stationed herself at a prime photographic spot:

Pushing Past the Invisible Barrier

No other photographers vied for this advantageous location. In fact, no one was there except for the fellows attempting (sometimes in vain) to prevent car people from using the bicyclist raceway. Those bicyclists were breaking the speed limit.

Continued
1 | 2 | Next>>