Chío Carts: Resurgent Century-Old Tradition Seeks Cultural Status
The century-old Chío Carts Festival in Guía Isora, where residents race elaborate handmade wooden carts downhill, is experiencing a strong resurgence and seeks official cultural recognition.
In the late afternoon, when the sun hangs low, Triana street in Chío looks like any other street. But as soon as the first handmade carts appear, the town comes alive.
Neighbors line the sidewalks, impatient children, and a few curious tourists wait for the young people to release the brakes and launch themselves downhill. This marks the start of the weekend's festivities for one of the most cherished traditions in the municipality of Guía Isora – a popular event with over a century of oral history, now enjoying a strong resurgence.
According to the town's elders, on November 30th, Saint Andrew's Day, chestnuts were roasted in every home, and new wine was offered to anyone passing by. Groups of merrymakers roamed the streets, and young people would slide down dirt paths on boards. Many believe this custom arrived with families from Icod who settled in Chío and blended their traditions with local ones.
However, with the arrival of asphalt in the late seventies, the old boards were replaced by new wooden contraptions with wheels. These were better suited for the paved roads and safer for racing downhill without brakes.
Jordi Reyes, president of the Chío Carts Association, has been organizing the festival for years. He says they start preparing very early. "By January, we're already looking back at the last event and planning the next. It's something that really gets people excited," he explains.
The carts follow a simple design, though they still take many hours to build. They consist of a frame covered in papier-mâché, several layers of smoothly sanded putty, a final coat of paint, and foam padding to keep everything secure. The steering wheel usually comes from an old bicycle, and the seat, in many cases, is a piece inherited from grandparents.
In the last fifteen years, creativity has really taken off. The carts are no longer just boards with rollers, like in the 80s, or simple frames on skateboard wheels. Now, you see designs that look like Formula 1 cars or small minivans – some are so detailed they could be mistaken for model toys.
"We have several categories, from 0 to 6, 6 to 15, and adults, and we even award a prize for the most original cart," Reyes notes.
On this curve, perhaps the most famous spot on the route, the carts pick up so much speed that it's almost impossible to turn without skidding. To an observer, it might look dangerous. "If you know how to drive, it can be safe. There has never been any serious accident," they insist.
Those participating for the first time are often surprised by the skill and effort needed to build a winning cart.
Usually, a month of work is the minimum, but the most dedicated spend many more weeks. Some remember the old days when cut drums were used "when the streets were dirt," or the first grease-covered boards their grandparents slid on. Today, traditional craftsmanship blends with modern imagination.
"This is the town's favorite festival. Everything stops for this tradition," Reyes explains. Over time, the community has started asking for official recognition. They're not seeking a title just for pride, but to protect what they see as a living piece of their heritage. "It's a festival that should be recognized as a cultural asset," Reyes argues.
This festival, and the public's desire to protect it, brings back memories of simpler times: a town gathered to watch gravity and skill combine on a fifty-meter slope.