Summer in the City

A serpent-shaped balloon animal, painted four stories tall, coils around a prickly-pear cactus on the facade of an abandoned grain silo. Across the street, beside a clanking railroad crossing, a hundred papel picados, suspended above picnic tables, rustle colorfully in an evening breeze. Nearby, kids pose for a photo with a life-size mariachi-clad Snoopy statue while their parents, together with a handful of other customers, enjoy tlayudas (a traditional Oaxacan street food, essentially a Mexican-style pizza made with a large, crispy tortilla) and Yucatan-style empanadas on what was, only a few weeks ago, an empty parking lot.

Tuesday, for many restaurants, is the slowest night of the week. And in this moment of calm, it might seem the same is true here at Mitote Food Park. But those busy working the five taco trucks, two pop-up tents, and one shipping-container-turned-bar know better. “Chaos is coming,” warns Damian, a teenager who helps his family at Luche Sabina, serving up mouth-watering Oaxacan fare. “The fun kind of chaos,” he adds.

Suddenly, in the distance, a commotion echoes within the mural-lined underpass connecting downtown Santa Rosa to the neighborhood of Roseland, beneath the busy interchange of Highway 12 and the 101: bells, horns, whoops, laughter, and a dozen boomboxes, their varied tunes at once competing and at the same time merging into a cacophonous medley of hip hop, delta blues, reggaeton, and one particularly loud set of speakers pumping out Get Down Tonight by KC and The Sunshine Band.

Moments later they emerge into view: road bikes, mountain bikes, low-riders decked out in flashing lights, cargo bikes full of children, some with dogs, some with seats retrofitted to sit 10 feet above the street, teenage BMX’ers showing off wheelies that span whole blocks, old men lounged in a recumbent position while youngsters with training wheels strain to keep up. Traffic comes to a stop. Passersby on the sidewalk stop, stare, wave, and scramble for their phones to take photos. This two-wheeled deluge, seemingly endless, floods the street with dozens and then hundreds of riders, pedaling past the Mexican bakery, past the butcher shop, past the towering snake and cactus, and over the train tracks until they arrive, pouring in through the narrow chain link gate that surrounds Mitote and, within the span of a minute, the whole place is packed.

This is the Taco Tuesday bicycle ride, the chaos Damian warned about: noisy, hungry, helmet-wielding patrons now lined up 15 in a row at Luche Sabina, and every other food truck, and growing longer with every second. 

How It All Began

The story of this taco-fueled bike ride is intertwined with that of Mitote and has been almost from the start. It was 2020. Beginning to emerge from lockdown, people craved food, fun and social connection in an open-air environment. Juan Chavez never imagined a casual bike ride he organized with a few friends would one day attract upwards of 400 people. Just as Octavio Diaz, founder of Mitote, didn’t foresee exactly how a pair of taco trucks outside an abandoned Dollar Tree would one day become the weekly destination for such an event. But there were two beliefs they both shared: that food is about more than just sustenance and that bicycles can be more than just transportation. 

In the early days, Chavez led his merry entourage of just a few riders to a different taco truck each week. Then a few more people jumped on the bandwagon. Then twice as many the following week. Then, as word got out, one day Chavez found himself wrangling an unwieldy crowd that overflowed the bike lane, overwhelming unsuspecting taco trucks whose staff looked on with both trepidation and awe. 

Chavez speaks about this unexpected popularity as though it was a phenomenon that simply took on a life of its own. While it’s true that his idea might’ve arrived at the right place at the right time, it’s also obvious within minutes of talking with Chavez that the key to its success was and is his radically inclusive hospitality. “It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’re riding,” he says with a big infectious smile. “Join us! Meet someone new. Break bread. Or rather, split a taco!”

Looking around at the crowd, it’s clear these aren’t just words. Few gatherings in Sonoma County represent such an eclectic cross-section of the population, with riders of all ages and backgrounds, representing every corner of the city and beyond. In fact, says Chavez, “I’ve heard people tell me, hey, Juan, I’ve never been to this part of town before. Some didn’t even know it was here until they came on the ride with us!” 

Back in 2020, however, victim to their own success, Chavez was grappling with a challenge he hadn’t expected: they were quickly outgrowing any one taco truck.

A Roseland Romance

As chance would have it, just as this grassroots bike ride was getting started, the city had agreed to temporarily lease to Diaz an empty parcel slated for a future affordable housing development. Assuming it would take a project like that years to break ground, Diaz invested in big tents, colorful decor, potted plants, dining areas, security fences, and even a bar serving up jalapeño margaritas and a cocktail featuring a giant ice cube with a chapuline (AKA grasshopper) at its center. By 2022, Mitote, in its fully realized vision, was born. Almost as if it had been the plan all along, it immediately became the only venue around that could come close to accommodating a crowd as big as Taco Tuesday.

Trusting that Chavez would roll in each week with a few hundred customers helped give Diaz the confidence to grow Mitote. And thanks to Mitote’s success, the vendors too have since been able to invest: those who began with just pop-up tents are now the proud owners of trucks, while those who arrived with trucks have since upgraded to bigger, better, and more well-equipped rigs. 

Chavez calls the relationship “symbiotic.” But Diaz goes further, calling it a “Romance. A true Roseland affair!” 

A bicyclist himself, Diaz says that in the early days, when only a few dozen bikes appeared, “I knew they had something special. But I didn’t realize it would get this big!” While today’s ride brought just shy of 200 people, the record was set last Halloween when 427 riders descended upon Mitote, most in costume. But even today, on an unremarkable evening in summer, many arrived in eccentric outfits, from leather vests, metal spiked helmets and cowboy hats to the traditional spandex of road racers and the matching uniforms of low-rider bike crews, among them the North Bay Kruzers and the Roseland Originals. “Every rider here is different,” says Diaz, chewing on a chocolate-filled churro. “And each bike can tell you about the rider. Mitote is a gathering place for all kinds.”

Location, Location, Location

Earlier this year, just as this Roseland romance was maturing from a fling into a long-term mainstay of Santa Rosa culture, unexpected news rattled both Mitote as well as the organizers of Taco Tuesday. The housing development, which many assumed would crawl painstakingly through the permitting process, got the green light sooner than expected. While thrilled about the prospect of much-needed public investment in his neighborhood as well as new affordable homes for local families, Diaz was suddenly facing imminent eviction while Chavez was “secretly freaking out” about whether they’d ever be able to find another venue that could accommodate the massive weekly party that, as a community, they’d cultivated. 

Then, at the very last minute, a customer reached out to Diaz with a lead on another empty parking lot a half mile down the road, outside what had been until a few years ago Roseland University Prep. Just in time for Cinco de Mayo 2025, Mitote relocated and reopened. A blessing in disguise, Diaz says the new location is an even better fit: more secure, a safer stretch of Sebastopol Road, and an ambiance that feels more firmly rooted in the city. 

Chavez, looking out at the new venue but feeling the same excitement that’s followed them for five years, agrees. As the sun begins to set, he yells out to the satiated crowds “saddle up,” and almost as suddenly as they’d arrived, the party is on its way out, leaving behind only the few odd customers who’d arrived there by other means, many of them still in shock, uncertain exactly what they’d inadvertently walked into when they arrived for a bite to eat.

Damian, back at the Luche Sabina taco truck, says they had a pretty decent night. “Everyone’s just so nice,” he says, cleaning up after the rush and watching as hundreds of bike lights disappear in the distance. “Fun chaos!” he repeats, which really does sum it up perfectly. 

Taco Tuesday Bike Ride

Starts at SRJC parking lot 550 Silva Ave. Santa Rosa
All year round, every Tuesday, rain or shine. 

Meet at 5:30pm; pedals-up at 6pm

Mitote Food Park

635 Sebastopol Road, Santa Rosa

(510) 288-3668

mitotefoodpark707@gmail.com

Open daily, 11am–5pm

Lucha Sabina

635 Sebastopol Road, Santa Rosa

(707) 393-8370

Open daily, 11am–5pm