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, October 30, 2005

Bird flew

Oct distance: 533 km

To Lim Chu Kang, 70 km. The plumage would make a cyclist proud: red and iridescent blue. The kingfisher was hanging out with egrets. I admire the egrets; how do they stay so white without detergent? How far have they flown? Where are they going? There's a flock of them, but none of them give me the answer. One of them takes flight - its wings spread out, its legs trailing behind. With one flap of its wings, it glides through the air at 30 km/h. Such majesty, yet, invisible viruses may befall it. The bird banks lazily perpendicular to my direction and it flies out of my life. The good thing about cycling alone is, I can savour such moments at my own pace. I can even wake up at my own time: an alarm-free day. Cycling beneath the little puffy white clouds against the clear blue sky like in "The Simpsons". I stop by a bikeshop; he charges me $5 to tighten my cassette. He spots a problem with my brake pad and fixes that too.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Little pleasures, big blessings

To Lim Chu Kang, 63 km. There were four rides yesterday. I go for none, but think all weekend about one of them: a double American century. 320 km in less than 24 hours. I'm so drained. I wake up this morning, go back to sleep and cycle only after lunch. At Mandai, as I cycle the long stretch without stop lights, my mind wanders to the long days at work. I cycle into Kranji Sanctuary. A modern-day dinosaur (chameleon?) skittles across the road. Two vintage cars driven by vintage drivers ripple past my space-time continuum. An egret races ahead of me at more than 30 km/h. I blink as my extended wear lenses (first time I'm riding with them) suck the moisture from my eyes. A truck cuts me off. I wave my arm vehemently. Twice. Back home, I munch on a chocolate bar. Life's little pleasures. Life's big blessings.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Right prediction, wrong prediction


To Mount Faber and Lim Chu Kang, 78 km. When I see the race list, I know who's going to win the NUS Cycling Club King of the Mountain time trial. I'm right. DC, reputedly Singapore's fastest guy on rollerblades, clocks 3 min 58 seconds up Mount Faber. "Doc" Chin clocks 4:09. I come in a second later, third among the nine mountain bikers. A crummy second and I could've been joint second. Still, it's my first ever time trial. I tag along with the gang for breakfast then head west with a handful of them. I think it won't rain, but I'm wrong. It dawns on me that the sky is getting greyer. Soon, it rains buckets. The diagonal rain soaks my soaks as I shelter at a bus stop at Lim Chu Kang. I head out when the rain lightens out, but it pours again. I shelter at Upper Thomson Road, with bikeshop man. He whips out a thick Shimano 2006 catalogue and gives me a critique. It looks like it'll not stop pouring. I sprint in the rain to keep warm; I feel like a goldfish being hosed. I puff my cheeks to blow air out so rain water doesn't get in. When the rain hits my lips, it stings. When it hits my bell, it rings. Somehow, the exertion makes my running nose clear up...
Photo courtesy of WQ Ong

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Old and sick

To Mandai Road, 22 km. I try to shake the sleepiness out of my head. The fastest moving part of my body is my running nose. I trundle out my bicycle on the eve of tomorrow's time trial up "Mount" Faber. All I'm looking for today is two sprints. My first sprint winds me. I'm about to do laps around Old Upper Thomson Road when I see a roadie ahead. Ah, motivation at last. I perk up and draw nearer, keeping a respectful distance away. Turns out to be a girl. Turns out she's going too slowly for me. I overtake and start sprinting, then turn back at the Mandai columbarium. I stop by a bikeshop. Bikeshop man says old folk with cold should use heart monitor, as it can signal heart problems better than feelings. Ah well, my heart is broken, I'd probably lose tomorrow. But then, I could cause an upset instead of being upset.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Same old thing

To Old Upper Thomson Road, 25 km. Week after week, it's the same old thing, going round Old Upper Thomson Road. Boring? Well, breathing is boring but one doesn't stop breathing for that reason. Not that it's easy to breathe today, with my running nose. What's really tedious is hearing specious comments from someone with a big ego. Also irritating is the not-so-smooth feeling as I turn my crank, despite having cleaned the drive train. Still, I get to blast past two roadies tonight though they have more than 100m headstart uphill. Oh yeah! And oh yeah, a few days ago, my bikelog website counter crosses the 10,000 mark. Thank you, readers!

Sunday, October 09, 2005

When the destination is worse than the journey

Sat-Sun 8-9 Oct:
To Bintan, Indonesia, 188 km. This is my first ride in Bintan, though not my first ride in Indonesia. The journey is great, but the destination where I spend the night is memorable for the wrong reasons. It's the low point of the ride, among the many high points including high hills and high fives with kids.

High fives
Day 1: Sat 8 Oct, Singapore - Trikora, Bintan, 107 km. I'm late but not dead, despite having had two motorbikes cut me off at one junction. On board the boat, I see the rain fall. Boat crewman refuses to let me out of the cabin to tend to my baggage. DH speaks to him in fluent Malay and the crewman turns friendly. But the kids enroute are naturally friendly without the need for banter. "Hello mister," they chorus. Some of the almost end up blocking the road with their hands outstretched. They look like they're trying to stop me. Then, it dawns on me what they're up to. I stretch out my hand. High five! Our palms connect and a girl smiles. Having cycled thousands of km in Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia, this is a first! Also for the first time, I ride with a Camelbak (but I've yet to use the bladder that came with it; a Platypus is good enough for me).

At the Bintan jetty are two statues of Java rhinoceros. On the road, I see two raised horns coming towards me, from a rhinoceros beetle. The route to Trikora is hilly. Reminds me of the road to Mersing, except that the roads here are narrower and more winding. There are doggy dangers too; two of them rush out and run alongside, barking at me but ignoring our guide H. Perhaps they know him well enough; he navigates without map or compass and knows where the watering holes are.

While watering holes seem plentiful, food is less so. After a light lunch, we make do with fresh coconuts by the sea. Where I pick up some nasty sandfly bites. Also nasty is the shack I stay in. It's cheap (S$11 per person per night) and fairly clean. But there are holes in the plank walls and attap roof. And no soap, towel or blanket. I use my drinking water to wash my hands to remove my contact lenses. Dinner is pleasant enough as we ride a few minutes to a Chinese restaurant. After exercising our jaws eating, we exercise them debating God and an object of devotion: bikes.

Bedtime. The sea breeze blows open the door. I get up to latch it and sleep fitfully as dogs bark, cocks crow and motors run. The rough accommodation, which I'm unprepared for, means a rough night for me. The destination is worse than the journey.

Getting to Bintan: from Tanah Merah Ferry Terminal to Bandar Bentan Telant Ferry Terminal. Ferry ticket: about S$40 including S$5 for "cargo" (per bike).

Long wait home
Day 2: Sun 9 Oct, Trikora - Tanjong Pinang, Bintan - Singapore, 81 km My throat gets more sore through the cold, blanketless night. This is one ride I wish would end sooner than later. A light rain falls. When it stops, we start. We cycle over 60 km past lunchtime, subsisting on a light breakfast. Hills, hills, hills. My guardian angel(s) work overtime. Despite the narrow, winding roads, there are no close calls though traffic could've come crashing through the blind corners or over the hilltops. Traffic gets scarier in town as we shoot past junctions without traffic lights, with traffic coming from multiple directions.

The six of us sit for four hours, dining and waiting for the last ferry home. I fall asleep while the rest quaff beer. The ferry ride home is rough for me as my bike suffers rough handling from those in the smokers' corner astern. But no one adds to the first gash on its top tube, which it suffered yesterday.

What I learn: never take chances; pack bubble wrap to protect. And stow my bike perpendicular to the direction of boat travel.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Memory lapse

To Old Upper Thomson Road, 30 km. I do laps tonight. Round and round I go; after three laps, I can barely remember how many rounds I've gone. I will myself to do a fourth lap, then call it a night. The only interesting thing that happens is passing by a pack of cyclists going the other way. But there are a few scares; a pedestrian crosses the road, ignoring me bearing down with lights flashing. Another stands in the shadows, then pops out just as I pass. Ah, the technological challenges of cycling in Singapore. How do I see in the dark without infrared vision? How do I build a force field around me that allows wind in my face, yet protect me from those who seek to bring me down?

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Flower peeling mountain

To Mount Faber, 57 km. In Mandarin, the name of this hill sounds like "flower peeling mountain". But it's no mountain, just a hill. Going up at my own pace is fairly easy; what's hairy is wending around the tour buses disgorging somnambulist passengers. I go two rounds via Morse Road, two via Lower Delta Road and one loop round the top. I cycle home via pleasant Tanglin Road. The serenity is shattered by two people sitting in silence by the road, with a blown-up colour photo of a badly bruised face. A brute of a taxi driver bullies me, but this is more than made up for by many drivers who slow down instead of cutting me off at turns. A blustery wind blows. It rains leaves, twigs and branches, followed by pelting rain. Weatherman says it'll rain today, but I miscalculate; the sky looks dark, but I think it's because of my sunglasses! I pay for my folly by having to dry and oil my drive train. Bleah.