This Woman Changed Her Relationship With Her City During the Pandemic — All on 2 Wheels
Gabriella Ortega is a grants analyst at The California Endowment and a program director at Culinary Arts Kids Eat 501(3)c, and she has lived in Los Angeles for her entire life. Here, she writes about her experience rediscovering her city on two wheels.
In the spring of 2020, when I was stuck in my Los Angeles home during the early weeks of COVID-19 quarantine, I couldn’t help thinking of all the things I needed to do to stay healthy and sane.
Growing up in Los Angeles, I’ve always been drawn to the natural landscape of the city, and I love nothing more than finding hidden gems in unexpected places. I hiked mountains and explored different communities of culture—but I could only go so far on my own two feet or in my car (getting stuck in traffic was inevitable). So I started to re-imagine my relationship with the city during this time; I wanted to feel it differently and explore in a way that I had never before. I was craving adventure more than ever.
My dad, who has been a cyclist for three decades, always raved to me about cycling and encouraged me to get a road bike. But getting on a bike made me nervous. Los Angeles is notorious for its traffic and crazy drivers, and it was hard for me to trust the streets and drivers on the road here.
However, I realized that cycling could be the catalyst to exploring the outdoors in a way I never did before. A bike is so powerful as an extension to the body, and I knew it could get me anywhere I wanted to go. So I called my dad and told him the magic words he’s been waiting to hear for years “Let’s find a bike so I can start riding!” I purchased a Cannondale CADD 12—the perfect size for me, and built for my heart.
After an adjustment period, as I developed new muscles, I began riding for miles on end. My rides usually start from my house, leaving the gates of the Los Feliz neighborhood, trekking up the Griffith Park trails.
Every time I ride through the park, I get flashbacks to my childhood. When I enter the park, I pass by the Pony Ride station where I rode horses as a toddler. When I ride by the playgrounds, it reminds me how much fun it was to come here as a kid to swing on the swings and build sandcastles. When I get into the mountains, I listen to the sounds of nature, look at the summit views, and smell the pine. This park has always brought me so much joy and knowing that I am creating new memories here through cycling 20 years later leaves me in complete awe.
My favorite part on a ride is getting to experience the polarities of city and nature, and feel; the different energy while riding. For instance, when riding through traffic, I’m aggressive yet cautious and mindful. When riding through the canyons and mountains, I am totally mindless—I let all my worries go, I allow the mountain and canyon breezes wash over me as I sway down the roads.
My perspective on cycling completely changed—it went from being a form of exercise to an activity that put me in a blissful, meditative state of mind. On longer rides, I began to feel at one with my bike, and I developed a profound sense of trust and intuition on my bike and with the road. This experience of cycling has brought me a huge sense of gratitude, and has allowed me to push my boundaries, helping me realize I can achieve things I never thought I’d be capable of achieving until now.
While the time alone spent riding has been truly life-changing for me, the best part about cycling is the awesome community. Cyclists are always looking out for each other—if you see a rider stopped on the road, you make sure they’re okay. If you see someone climbing a hill, you root them on.
There’s this one hill in Griffith Park called the “Trash Truck Hill.” On some days I despise going up because the intensity creeps up on you like no other. Once, I was riding alone on this hill and feeling so tempted to pull over and take a break. Right at that moment, a woman rode up beside me and said, “How’s it going?” I responded with “just trying to push through this climb.” We started to discuss how tough it gets in these long climbs, and then she gave me a few tips on what to practice when riding up hills. She said, “stand up, shift your weight, and learn to push through the pain!” We both made it to the top together and now every time I climb hills, I think of those pointers she gave me.
This sense of community is so heartfelt, especially at a time where we’ve been socially isolated and group riding has gotten smaller. I’m forever grateful for the friends I’ve made through the sport, and the mentorship of my dad and his friends who have trained me along the way in cycling.
2020 was a year we will never forget. Yes, we experienced hardships, but it also opened the world to a greater understanding of life, health, and re-discovering ourselves during this time.
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