By HUGO GARCIA-GONZALEZ
Columnist

It was only after I was nearly killed by a truck when I realized riding my bicycle along Hwy. 406 wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had — or was it?

Being a cyclist from one of the biggest cities in the world taught me to ride in almost every situation possible.

It has also given me experiences that I cannot have in Canada — at least not legally.

The first thing that people think when I say something about Mexican roads, is chaotic traffic, law breaking and people trying to kill each other for the sake of arriving home five minutes early.

While part of this might be true, there’s something that Canadian roads don’t have: symbiosis.

Mexican roads might be a mess, and respect for cyclists might be non-existent, nevertheless, drivers and cyclists share the roads in a flowing sea of horns and obscene hand gestures.

All senses become acute and somehow the chaos becomes a working system.

Riding in Mexico City is an adventure.

Unlike Canada, you don’t commute listening to birds.

You don’t watch the lake.

You don’t breathe clean air.

In Mexico City, you ride listening to loud engines, watching monster skyscrapers while breathing large quantities of carbon dioxide.

And it’s exhilarating, trying to keep up with the cars and performing crazy manoeuvres. Just trying to avoid going down the open sewers keeps your adrenaline at peak levels.

The everyday routine of life was broken by the extreme sport that represents riding on the streets of Mexico City.

Here, things are different.

Canada has exclusive lanes for cyclists, laws that most people obey, and, most importantly, a “share the road” culture, making cycling much easier, and, to a certain extent, boring.

The problem (or solution) arises when the bike lane ends, turning commuting into a circus stunt.

Riding while the one-meter-wide lane becomes a section as wide as a $10 bill is a huge challenge.

I didn’t know it was illegal to ride on the Canadian highways. That’s why I chose the 406 as my route to school.

Everything was going smooth until the side lane started getting narrower and narrower. By the time I realized it may have been nuts to take that road, I was already at school.

Cars going more than six times the speed of a regular cyclist, rubbing shoulders with you, makes the ride, let’s say, interesting.

I guess now that I’m living in Canada I have to change the way I ride. It’s time for me to let go of my Mexican way and learn how to enjoy the birds, the scenery and the clean air. It’s time to look for a new source of my daily adrenaline dose.

But in case I don’t find it, the 406 will always be there.