Cycling is like life. Cycling with no goal is meaningless. What meaning is there cycling in circles? Or living aimlessly? Meaning comes from direction and destination. Join me in my life's journey on a mountain bike :)

Blogging since 2003. Thank you for reading :))

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Rainbow in the sky and road

Nov distance travelled: 696 km

To Lima Kedai, Johore, Malaysia, 124 km. The rainbow arches in the sky. A beautiful sight, but the three of us don't have a camera to snap it. We also see two pelotons of cyclists wearing the usual multi-coloured garb; first time I've ever seen any in Johore. We wave to each other like old friends; they beckon us to join them. My ride is at a cracking pace; my two guests are from togoparts.com; one is a roadie, the other is on his first ride to Johore. They'd expressed interest in cycling with me in my year-end expedition. I hear both of them chafing at the bit behind me as I lead. Back in Singapore, I wave TCW ahead. He blasts ahead on his carbon Giant and soon he's out of sight. Dude, why do I stick to my ancient bicycle with ancient technology, when I have an ancient body.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

Fuming bikers, fuming bikes


To Lima Kedai, Johore, Malaysia, 124 km. I feel like an ant surrounded by furious ants from another tribe. I try to avoid their stings - their exhaust pipes. But no way I can escape the exhaust fumes. We inch along towards Singapore immigration. The same thing happens on the return leg, at 1 pm. The jam is so bad, the motorcyclists horn furiously. I spend the last six hours in Johore but am not elated. I feel down, as down as the flat tyre that greets me when I awake. The 3-hour shelling from Friday still rings in my ears. I feel so lousy, I almost turn back after crossing the causeway. But I press on. Hard. My first sit-down break, at Lima Kedai, is three hours into the ride. I also stop at McDonalds at Skudai, where I finish reading The Star. My legs are sore, my butt is sore, but I start to feel better especially after prayer at a scenic spot. Today is also my first ride with my digital camera.

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Recovering from recovery ride

To Choa Chu Kang, 67 km. Today is meant to be a recovery ride. I cruise down to Upper Thomson Road; there's supposed to be a slower group that leaves before 8.30 am. I don't see anyone leaving until 8.30. "Let's go," says a lone cyclist whom I guess is KT. I somehow end up second in the peloton for a few seconds. He's just warming up. Other roadies sweep past and soon I'm alone. Ah, familiar feeling. Time to take it easy. But I see some roadies ahead. I want to suck some wind, so I speed ahead. Soon, I'm leading my own little peloton, until I stop at the Shell station along Mandai Road to see some friendly people who stop there. The Ascender chaps are there too. I tail them to Adam Road, with them pulling me along at 37 km/h. One of them, Mr Trek OCLV, asks me to write something nice in my bikelog, and so I will. Thanks for the considerate handsignals and warning shouts.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Opposites attract

Fri 12 Nov:
To Tanjung Piai, Johore, Malaysia, 225 km. What a strange ride it is today, when what happens is the opposite of what I expect. I have to head north to head south, find out about a big town that's smaller in name than its neighbour, and spend only RM23 for the entire 200+ km ride.

Day ride for long weekend: I'm off work for five whole days, thanks to the Deepavali and Hari Raya weekend. I'd intended to cycle to Malacca and back over four days, but my Malaysian advisors say it's really dangerous on the roads due to the balik kampung phenomenon when people return to their villages. So I cycle to the uttermost end of mainland Asia - Tanjung Piai. (Even so, the sole resort there is booked solid till end Nov, hence the day trip.)
Heading north to head south: Tanjung Piai is the southernmost tip of Johore, but I have to head north to head south since the 2nd Link at Tuas is closed to bicycles. How inefficient for supposedly efficient Singapore.

Car jam at causeway: I'm at the causeway before 7am. Usually, it's packed with motorcyclists. Today, it's smooth riding; instead, the place is jammed with cars heading up north. Traffic jams the way into Singapore too; it's a working day today (but I'm on leave). Pedestrians walk into Singapore too via the causeway.

Dead dog, good dog: I'm 50m away from an open gate when a black monster growls and charges out of the gate. It means business. I step on my pedals so much, stones spin from the wheel. Dogs are rare in Malaysia; it's the first time I'm attacked after thousands of km on the road here. I pass a good dog by the roadside. It looks so peaceful and leaves me alone, until I see entrails spilling out from its behind.

Noise in nature: Tanjung Piai is a nature reserve. Quiet, with birds chirping, wind rustling, waves lapping the mangroves beneath the boardwalk, and monkeys chattering. Quiet, until a family descends with kids screeching louder than any living thing. I wonder who's worse - the kids or the parents.

When small is big: There's an interesting write-up in English about Pontian. I finally understand why Pontian Kechil is way bigger than Pontian Besar. The latter is called "big" simply because, once upon a time, only big chiefs were allowed to live there. And pirates used to ply off Kukup; now, it is a seafood town where plunder is from mahjong.
Baking, then freezing: It's a hot, sunny day. I'm applying sunblock in mid-afternoon. Minutes later, I ride into dark clouds. Buckets pour from the sky. I wait. Normally, I'd feel frustrated. Now, I feel grateful. After cycling over 120 km, I'd wanted to rest a while after lunch in the coffeeshop. I reach there just in time to be served the last meal before closing time. I'm there for barely half an hour when the doors start closing. The rain gives me a chance to chill out and fortunately, there's a petrol kiosk handy for me to take refuge. The bus shelter is useless in the driving rain. When the rain subsides, I start cycling. My teeth start chattering in the cold. I pedal hard; 28-29 km/h, compared to the sedate 20 km/h before lunch.

Dangerous driving at police roadblock: The police are out in force during the holiday season to reduce carnage on the roads. One driver who stops for the police sees me and pulls into my path anyway. I shake my head, the policeman looks at the driver and lets him go anyway. This is the second near miss I have today; the other one was also from a driver who failed to give way; at least, he stops in time and apologises twice. Malaysia drivers are leaps ahead of Singapore drivers. The Malaysia near-miss rate on this ride is one per 100 km. The Singapore rate is one per 20 km.

I'm glad I do this ride. Finally, I break my one day distance record . And this ride is sheer value for money, at about 10 sen per km. And Tanjung Piai, at the end of mainland Asia, is the last word for an interesting place to explore, with picturesque roads all over the place.

Cycling time is 9.4 hours. Total trip time is about 14 hours, with time to eat and see the sights. Average speed is 23.1 km, with 25-32 km/h on the flats.

Saturday, November 06, 2004

Crescent moon rising


To Clementi and Changi, 122. The crescent moon hangs low over the night sky, looking like a luminous slice of Fuji apple. 11 cyclists slice through the night air, with three mountain bikers among the Ascender roadies. It's my first ride with them, and I like it. They're friendly, don't dawdle and cycle at a constant pace of 30 km and above. Just two rest stops, and they don't even stop for a sit-down supper. We have two close calls on the way, each time from drivers who seek to deny us the right of way and the right to life. How high class the Ascender chaps are; no coarse language or one-finger salutes.
Photo courtesy of KA

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Rain-slicked roads

To Sembawang, 34 km. What's more boring than watching paint dry? Watching roads dry. It's been pouring these days; so bad that some roads are flooded. I get tired of waiting for the roads to dry. Well, slick tyres are good for rain-slicked roads, so I hit the roads. Four drivers almost hit me; each time, they are either cutting out from a side road or cutting in. Talk about statistical central tendency to be mean! The mean: one incident every 10 km. The roads are getting more dangerous; incident rate in the past was perhaps one incident every 100 km.