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 :))

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

Dec: 1,106 km

Wed 10 Dec: Fire at the back side
To Esplanade, 34 km. What is it like to cycle with a charcoal fire just behind your butt? Glowing a fiery red (the fire, not the butt), does lighting a fire behind your tender behind help you ride faster? Probably not, if you have two huge pails of satay and condiments on either side of your rear wheels. Yep, meet the master cyclist, the satay man. Tonight, the only other familiar face is D; the other three are strangers.
Tech note My leg doesn't hurt; I'd stopped biking for one whole week. It sure felt strange not riding. Knee felt a little funny, but it must be all that unclipping in city traffic. And a long warm up ride (over 15 minutes) must have helped.

Wed 3 Dec: 4 cyclists, 3 bicycles
To Seletar, 29 km. How can four bikers ride three bikes? When one of the bikes is a tandem. J and his wife show up on this magnificent machine - a KHS with Specialized sticker. Three cranks, 27 speed. As usual, J cranks out a brisk pace, tearing along the hills of Yio Chu Kang Road at around 40 km/h. The bike leader (me) ends up trailing behind the couple and D.

Tech note My leg still hurts. J tells me I should rest. Well, I did stop cycling but the pain is still there even when I'm getting out of a chair. Tonight, hamstring doesn't give me pain, but my thigh cramps (perhaps to compensate). Back home, I tweak my cleats again and replace part of the cleats.

Sunday, November 30, 2003

Nov: 703 km

Sun 30 Nov: Better at night
To Sengkang, 31 km. I've been to Sengkang at night. I check it out in daylight - parts of it look like construction sites, not mysterious grass plains shrouded in darkness. But that large boarded-up bungalow surrounded by emptiness does look spooky. I see some cyclists and overtake one motor-bicyclist - he splutters at 38 km/h while I pass silently at 43 km/h.

Tech note Today's ride is my first all week. It's more of a tech ride, to test my new bikeshorts and fanny pack. And to see if my left hamstring is fine. I could barely walk on Wed - doctor says no cycling for five days. Strangely enough, it may have been the sit-ups which got to me. Still, hamstring may have been damaged on 17-18 Oct. And left thigh cramps after barely 10 km! How decrepit - I used to go 200 km without any pain. I drop by the bikeshop to tighten my headset - another perennial pain.

Sat-Sun 22-23 Nov: Real horse vs Iron Horse
To Desaru, Malaysia, 148 km. I move by bike, boat, go-kart and a real horse. Differences between a real horse and Iron Horse:
  • Real horse has a real name: Charlie. Iron Horse is just Iron Horse or horsey for short.
  • Real horse eats. Iron Horse doesn't eat; only the rider does.
  • Real horse likes grass; good for its transmission. Iron Horse detests grass; bad for transmission.
  • Real horse has four legs. Iron Horse has two legs and two wheels.
  • Real horse needs stirrup for riding. Iron Horse uses pedals.
  • Real horse has big saddle, comprising leather and cloth. Iron Horse has small saddle, comprising synthetics and titanium rail.
  • Real horse has a tiny handle bar ("bit") in its mouth. Iron Horse has longer handle bar that doesn't fit into mouth.
Bikerboey goes airborne in an ultralight. She gets lighter too when she loses her breakfast after landing. But she gets on her bike and is her usual buoyant self. As for me, I feel dour when I lag behind LCT and JC who charge ahead on knobbies, while I'm on slicks. I hang on for a while, then drop back. LCT says I lose momentum when going uphill. That's true, but the return leg is flat. I gotta learn how to breathe and pedal again.


Tech note I set two personal records on 22 Nov.
  • Max speed on flat road (at Hougang Ave 2) is 49.2 km/h; I had a boost from the hill behind me I guess. Previous record: 47 km/h.
  • Max speed (downhill) is 60.3 km/h at Desaru; previous record: 60.2 km/h.
It's a matter of getting used to the gear ratios. I need to get used to my new saddle; I stop to tweak the seat angle a few times. On the way back to the Pengarang jetty, the saddle goes "sproing" and slides back. I thought it's broken; I need an excuse to get another one! About half of the 13 riders on this ride have Specialized saddles. What a pain in the butt. If a new saddle or pedal causes so many adjustment problems, it must be immense pain to have a new bicycle.

The pain behind my left knee comes back. I tweak my cleats, then realise the pain may be because of unclipping. The niggling clanking sound comes back too. It seems my front d has to be lubed for every ride to get rid of the sound. Maybe the crankset is incompatible with my new chain.
Photos courtesy of Gentle Giant
Wed 19 Nov: The old and the new
To Sengkang, 36 km. There are some old faces today, and a new one (J). I introduce them to the long quiet stretches of road in Sengkang and Punggol, which they seem to like. We end as usual at Casuarina Road, and a few more old faces drive there to join us.
Tech note GKT and WH cruise past me uphill, but not by much, before we run out of hill. New saddle hurts a little less; I've been desperately massaging it to soften it.

Fri 14 Nov: Pain in the butt
To Sengkang, 28 km.
Tech note It cost me over $100, but my new saddle a pain in the butt after 30 minutes. And try as I do, I still don't break the 40 km/h barrier. And the chain clanks somewhere around the front d. Try as I do, I can't find the problem area. So much for new equipment. But at least my hubs coast real well. Now, to find myself on a slope with some of the Wed nite riders and see if I can tear uphill like them.

Tue 11 Nov: Moon river
To Sengkang, 34 km. The moon glows like a brown mooncake through the clouds, with the silhoutte of trees across the glass plain cutting a jagged pattern on the orb. I sit by the the river, a shiny black ribbon, and reflect. God gives clear answers, but I find them hard to accept. I get back on my bicycle and continue exploring. Like life itself, Sengkang / Punggol has many roads. Some are enticing, but get me nowhere.
Tech note Still can't go above 40 km/h, though my cruising speed now seems to be 38 km/h instead of 35. Acceleration is slower than with my 7-speed casette. I'm still unused to the gear ratios. And there's a niggling clanking sound - I can't isolate the source.

Fri 7 Nov: The kung fu master
To Sengkang, 33 km. I get off work too late as usual to join any togoparts ride. I cycle around the carpark, tweaking my front d. It's not been working well since I got it on 1 Nov. I finally get it going to my satisfaction and head for Sengkang. Several long, quiet roads there with few traffic lights. As I head home, my entire front d shifts and the chain falls off. I twist it back and desperatly head towards Ang Mo Kio bikeshop man. It's almost 11 pm, but he's still around. In mere minutes, he sorts it out and the front d works better than when I first got it. His "kung fu" sure is good.

Sun 2 Nov: Journey to the west
To Jurong Hill, 73 km. It's nice to be at the receiving end of a BOAC bike ride, following instead of leading. I meet lots of new people today; as it turns out, someone knows the park connectors in Jurong by heart. Birds literally flock together. We walk on an abandoned railway track, ride past still waters, lunch at the top of Jurong Hill. And get wet.

Tech note It's just a drizzle, but my water vapour appears in my shifters. I don't have that problem with my cheap thumbshifters even in a deluge. There's so much gunk on my chain after two days of rain. At home, I remove the rear wheel and put it back on. Oops. Chain clanks now. Did bikeshop man force chain stays apart to fit 9-speed casette? Bike originally came with 6-speed. Today, I try to break my speed record but find I'm not fit enough for my new gears.

Sat 1 Nov: Smooth and light
To Kent Ridge, 51 km. Yesterday, I cycle towards a bikeshop in town, detour to one nearer home, and upgrade my bicycle there instead. It's got to be left overnight; first time ever that someone fixes it without me looking on. Feels strange to be without my bike. The upgrade is for a long ride; I decide to stand by by trusty steed after considering a touring, hybrid or new mountain bike. I write-off $200 from a past upgrade of Alex wheelset and 8-speed LX rear d. Bike now has XT cassette, hubs and chain, 9-speed LX rear d, Mavic 221 rims, Deore front d and shifters. This is the third (and last?) major upgrade. Today, I pick up my bike. Takes me a while to get used to rapid fire shifters; thumb shifters have one lever and are more intuitive. XT is smooth and light. Bike is now 1 kg lighter (same weight as a $2,200 Scott). I don't't break my speed record, but marvel at how easy it is to pedal. Total damage: $560. Too bad bikeshop man fits silver hubs instead of the agreed black! And I didn't know my Schrader tubes have to go.

Saturday, November 15, 2003

Irony

Round island#6, 122 km.
I'm going below 30 km/h for most of the trip. Two groups of people pass me by. Group#1: mountain bikers at 32 km/h. Group#2 have two-stroke engines, and I don't mean their legs.

Tech note I spend the time trying to know my bike; its personality has changed since my upgrade of 1 Nov. I don't break my speed record; max speed on a flat road is 41 km/h, not 47. Why am I slower? Lighter bike = less momentum. Lighter rims = no "flywheel" effect. And I do have a dirty chain. But I break my time record for round island: 5 hr 50 min instead of 7 hours; faster ascents and efficient pedalling = shorter breaks. Perhaps the heavenly blinkers called lighting spurs me on to get out of impending rain. Butt hurts after 10 km despite bike shorts. What irony: I upgrade my bike to go faster but I'm slower. I upgrade my seat and end up with a pain in the ass. I bike to forget my woes but my bike becomes woe. But I finally get silent service: I tweak my front d and the niggling sound is gone.

Sunday, November 09, 2003

Sat-Sun 8-9 Nov: The mist
Round island#5.5, 147 km. I thought my glasses are fogged, but no, I'm cycling into the mist at Seletar. The dew condenses on my shifters. Besides dew, other things fall: two bicycles and their cyclists. Blood is shed, but not tears. There are 15 of us, (led by Bikerboey on her touring bike) but most fall out along the way. At the 100 km mark, there's just three of us. I fall out too - I log the round island mileage, but fail to go around.

Tech note I've been cycling to fix my bike thrice today. First, the casette came loose. Before I get home, the front d shifts. The kung fu master (see below) says I should return to sender - it's the wrong size. I get to upgrade my Deore front d to LX for another $5.

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

Oct: 586 km

Wed 29 Oct: The classic collection
To Sembawang, 37 km. One inch tubing. Threaded headsets. Three old guys with three old bikes, in steel / chromoly and titanium. But boy, do we kick butt! T is 64, D is 56. D really gives a good run most of the time. Today, I lead the ride to explore Sembawang before returning to familiar roads. Twice, we separate and twice, I have to tear after cyclists to keep us together. WH leads us to a nice jetty at Sembawang Park, where we have a nice chat before going to Casuarina Road for a theological discussion.

Tech note Many people overtake me uphill. Why? Is it the overall weight, cassette or wheel? Read that aerodynamic wheels are good for flats and downhills while light wheels are good for acceleration and uphills. I have downhill rims - is that why I lag uphill but lead downhill and on flats?

Wed 8 Oct: Five days in a row
To Mandai and Bukit Timah, 44 km. I've been cycling five days in a row, since Sat. I'm addicted to biking. I ask "padre" to lead us for a short ride but that's not to be; we tear down Mandai and Bukit Timah, and going at 35 km/h is slow. I lose sight of the roadies and two mountain bikers including D on his Merlin. Sigh, I used to be the first MTB rider to reach the end point after the roadies. Even WH, on a 10-year-old cromoly with dented pedals, cranks out a decent speed before she heads for home. (Her bike, with front suspension, is about the same weight as my rigid bike! Sweet of her to join us for a while before heading home for a conference call.) We have two guests today: RL (from Penang Jamboree) and friend.

Tue 7 Oct: Pit stop
To Old Upper Thomson Road, 20 km.
Tech note It's a ritual; after every tough ride, I see bikeshop man. This time, it's to fix the headset, which keeps coming loose. To increase the amount of thread, I want v-brakes so that the headset thingy for cantilever brakes is not needed. Bikeshop man says, change the thingy for $10. He says v-brakes plus brake levers cost $50. I ask him to remove my pedals. He taps twice and it's free. How does he do it? "Qigong," he says. I shift the cleats from my old shoes to my Shimano M082 for the first time. After adjusting by the roadside, my left foot still feels uncomfortable; aftermath of last weekend's Penang ride? Today is the first time I cycle with contact lenses - and sun glasses. I look so cool! But once in a while, my vision blurs. Blink, blink - is the wind causing the lenses to shudder? Back home, I clean my chain, having figured out how to do so without making a mess: use Jif first on a cloth, then use Chain Gang.

Wed 1 Oct: The gang is back
To Yishun, 32 km. After a couple of week's absence, the regular Wed night ride gang is back: the "padre", GKT, G, B and I, plus two guests. We start slow, chatting most of the way. Only on the last leg to Casuarina Road do we sprint. One rider calls the initial slow pace "long foreplay". The sprint must be the climax. I lose the race; as it turns out, I had a slow leak. I pump up the tyre and get home before total deflation.

Tech note Back home, I struggle to remove the tyre. My tyre levers lose their leverage. I resort to a metal tool and damage my rim, so I file the damage away. Tonight, I wear my new Shimano M082 shoes for the first time. The studs catch dangerously on my platform pedal - Power Grip combo. I modify the shoes by removing the studs.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

The good, the bad, the ugly

Deepavali long weekend 24-26 Oct
To Sedili and Kota Tinggi, Johore, 242 km. And there we are at Kota Tinggi, watching a programme from a Singapore TV channel: "The good, the bad, the ugly". This ride too has the good, the bad and the ugly.

What's good: the coastal scenery enroute to Sedili. It's great to be able to cycle within sight of the sea. It's no great coastal road, but it sure is better than Changi Coast Road where the sea is out of sight. The fireflies at Kota Tinggi are great too; never before have I set eyes on such a sight: a Christmas light-up in a mangrove. Once in a while, a fly will buzz by our boat. It's so ephemeral, so beautiful, yet so fragile. And, as usual, it's good to have a wide open road ahead of me with no traffic lights. And only me can stop me from going as fast as I want. This is also my first ride in Malaysia with SPDs without even a scratch! And no food poisoning - I eat and drink from roadside stalls with abandon. And I do not feel threatened at all throughout the 200 km of Malaysian roads. So what if the roads aren't always smooth and there's fast heavy traffic enroute to Singapore - Malaysian drivers are friendly and mild-mannered. Also good - I regain my form in day 2 and 3.

What's bad: trying to draft behind Bikerboey, whose bike has become three speed thanks to a faulty rear d shifter. Darn it, I can't keep up with her 33-35 km/h on the first day. My left calf cramps and I get a headache. Why? Is it because (a) the sun is too hot? (b) I'm dehydrated (we cover over 100 km the first day to Sedili) (c) my headband is too tight, just like monkey god's? (d) all of the above? It's also bad that I mount a solo search party, looking for the speedsters who are no where in sight while us laggards wonder where the hotel is. And the "pasar malam" at Singapore customs where, for some reason, I have to unpack my two bags and offer my waist pouch for inspection twice (the officer forgot he'd already checked it!).
What's ugly: the sight (and smell) of road pizzas - birds, monitor lizards and other unidentified dessicated objects. One particular corpse is curled up on the road, dried to a husk, contorted in its death throe.

Tech note After having failed to keep up with Bikerboey on Day 1, and considering the epic 1,200 km ride I'm contemplating, I contemplate getting a new bicycle. I draw up a matrix with buying criteria and grade the options using Harvey balls. But there are too many unknowns. And going to Cheap John's enroute home is just bewildering when I see all the beauties (bikes, not humans) hanging around. Anyway, do I really need a new bicycle? One cyclist on this ride has a chromoly Parkpre and two panniers which is much heavier than my bike - so what? It doesn't mar his enjoyment and he just powers on. Anyway, I think the reason why people tend to overtake me on hills is because of my gear ratios - my bike is seven speed. Of course, this excuse doesn't explain why Bikerboey could overtake me with three speeds!

Saturday, October 18, 2003

A little bit of grit, a whole lot of grief

Sat-Sun 17-18 Oct
Round island#5, 124 km. With Status Quo's "Paper Airplane" reveberating in my mind , I'm really high. At Pasir Ris, I stop at the biggest display of bikes I've ever seen at a bike shop. Bikeshop boy says: "Is that an Iron Horse? That's a classic." At Changi Coast Road, I draft a motorcyclist: 41, 42, 43 km/h ... At West Coast, my blood sugar plummets. I eat and I refuel again at Jurong. At Jalan Bahar, pain shoots up my left leg. I stretch, massage, pedal with one leg. At Kranji, I rest for 20 minutes until 2 am. Pain remains. It's eerie as usual at Kranji. As usual, dogs greet me joyfully, four of them rushing across three lanes and a road divider to welcome me into their rabid mouths. At Mandai, I have an epiphany, remove my left cleat and the grit, then put back the cleat. A tiny change (the width of a grain of sand?) that leads to a big difference. From barely being able to put my foot down, I can complete my ride.

Sunday, October 12, 2003

A moving experience

Sat-Sun 11-12 Oct
To Orchard Road, 26 km. We don't actually go anywhere, but it's a moving experience. Wendy Chan and friends spin 24 hours on stationery bicycles off Orchard Road to raise funds for Children's Cancer Foundation. Time crawls; I spin for what seems to be a long time, look at my watch ... only five minutes have passed. Butt hurts from the saddle; left knee hurts too. And the guys in front of me start eating brownies. Aaargh! I pedal two hours non-stop from 1.10-3.10 am, then seize a brownie as compensation.

Well, I can choose to get off this ride. Cancer patients and their caregivers don't have the choice of getting off their life's journey as they please. I manage to last two hours because I cycle from song to song on my radio. I guess that's how I'll go through life - choose the right frequency, then go from one song to another. If there's a song I don't like, I just wait it out. Companionship keeps me going too. I'm glad to see my friends there; we didn't arrange it as such, but there are cyclists from togoparts and BOAC. Thank God for friends - Wendy's Bike-Aid pals are there and they liven things up so much. One of the girls is so happy, going on and on, smiling like the bunny on Wendy's bike. As for me, I get back on the bicycle to keep warm, as it's been pouring rain. Thank God for strangers too. A lecturer from UK, currently lecturing at Singapore Polytechnic, rides a unicycle and distributes flyers. He comes back during the graveyard shift and plays the sax for a few hours to keep us going. I think about work on Monday morning and scoot off at 6.30 am, after having spent six hours on site. It's raining, it's cold and I want to crawl into my warm bed.

In a press interview, Wendy is quoted as saying after a tragedy: "Nothing made sense in my life except for cycling ... all I could do was cycle." I guess that's why I'm so demented and desperate about cycling. Wendy and friends raise $10,000 for charity. This is my third charity thingy (#1 being Project Care, #2 being NPCC round island); since I have to ride, might as well clock up some $ besides km.

Wendy calls herself a young urban fiscal failure. I wonder how many fiscally successful have friends like her Bike-Aid pals, and strangers who just show up to give up their time, sweat and sleep to support her.

Tech note Earlier today, I tour a few bikeshops in Tampines. I blunder across one after getting lost - lo and behold, I see two Iron Horses ... one of them is a titanium frame for $1,500. An XT-equipped version would cost abut $2,800. Hmm, should I abandon my old horse for a new one? What is a bike anyway; a tool to be sacrificed in the name of performance? Or part of me - a semi-living thing that should be nursed along in recognition of faithful service? Surely, some things do matter in life? Just look at the bikes of the Bike Aiders. Some of them have machines more venerable and heavier than mine, yet look at the mileage they log.

Monday, October 06, 2003

The examination

Fri 3 Oct - Mon 6 Oct
Penang, 62 km. Going for the Penang Mountain Bike Jamboree is like going for an exam in school. Stories abound of how tough it is. But I'm clueless since my toughest off-road experience was just one ride to Bukit Timah Hill (on semi-slicks) and another to Sentosa (on slicks); that's how clueless I'm about off-road. About 250 cyclists head for the start point at Penang Youth Park. WH tells me not to be so tense. But the only uphill "tests" I've taken are riding up Kent Ridge, Nanyang University, Mount Faber and Telok Blangah hill. It doesn't help that I realise I've left my medication in the hotel; the very thought makes me sick to the stomach.

We wait to start our ride, just like we waited to start to our exams. While there are hundreds of cyclists, each of us is alone. No one can ride for us, just as no one can write for us. Off we go just after 8 am. I'm somewhere at the tail, reluctant to start my journey into the unknown. A roadie at heart, my instincts kick in and I spur my Iron Horse onwards, then rein back to pace myself. We reach our first obstacle - a landslide caused by rain.

Landslide
It's been raining since Thu 2 Oct. When we reach Penang from Singapore on Fri, the 40 hours of rain makes front page news in The Sun newspaper: "Rain havoc in Penang". (While the Sun newspaper is readily available, the real sun isn't. The article is helpfully illustrated with a photo of people wading in water, plus a story of a capsized fishing trawler.) Our shoes and ankles sink in the mud, as we clamber up the 2-metre pile of mud and foilage. We're so slow, a pedestrian overtakes us. The queue builds up behind me. No turning back now. We are jam packed and I am stuck. It's every man for himself on this mudslide (though I hear others later formed a human chain to pass along bikes). I struggle to manhandle my heavy horse up the mud. When clear of it, I push my tyres into the constant stream of water flowing by the roadside to wash away the mud from my rims. The road is so steep, I'll need my brakes.

I keep pushing my bike uphill. My calf (leg, not pet cow) protests at the treatment. Some intrepid bikers actually pedal, but many give up. What's the point of cycling, I say to myself. Walk or ride, it's about 4 km/h anyway. Only in some stretches do I get to ride. This 7-speed horse is heavy and I get a full-body workout. As I push my bicycle with one hand, it tries to bolt and U-turns. Clever horse! I'm the sole rider of an Iron Horse here and the only one with a rigid bike. Around me, Giants, Specialized and Scott bikes abound, with a smattering of Cannondales, Gary Fishers and Santa Cruz. And a single speed bike!

Round the bend
We struggle on. Some cyclists seem to rest at every bend on the road. At each bend, I look up. The road continues to loom ahead, bend after bend. Talk about going round the bend! I tear off my makeshift rain gear: a laundry bag. I'm soaked in sweat. Somewhere along the hill, I top up my water bottle with "alpine water". There's no food. I'm glad I'm up at 5.30 am to get breakfast of bread and jam from 7-Eleven. (No breakfast at the hotel - it's too early.) I see some riders coming downhill - what's going on? JC the Mechanic Smurf yells at me: "Don't give up, you're near the top!" A girl shrieks as she goes downhill. I somehow make it to the top, then ride my brakes down the 40-degree slopes cautiously at about 30 km/h. So glad I'd tweaked the brakes in Singapore; these are the original brake pads. Plus original tyres and inner tubes, no puncture in them since Feb 95.

The off-road begins, downhill. It seems seductively easy at first. Then I see yawning chasms just inches away from the trail. I could fall off and no one would know, since cyclists are now rare sights on the trail. There are also wooden bridges barely wide enough for a biker and bike. Gullies. Slick rocks. Tree trunks. Each step of the way, I heave my horse ahead of me. At the point where there are two tree trunks, my horse falls, taking me with it. I gash my shin on the chainring. I pull up my sock to cover the wound, but my sock recoils at the horror and flops down again. The foilage I ride past embraces the abrasions. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Soon, I'm numb to the pain and soon, the mud covers the wounds.

How bad is the wound? I think of stopping at the waterfalls to wash up - after all, I've loaded up for the first time with alcohol swabs and big plasters. But I go on; maybe there's a first aid post somewhere. I come across a casualty. I have nothing for him except to show concern. He says he's been having leg cramps and waves me on. Now and then, when I come across cyclists, I make way for them. About 10 of them pass me by. Sometimes, I'm embarrassed to hold them up. Other cyclists pass by as I stop to shoot photos and then wrap plastic around my camera each time after that.

One memorable spot is where the trail is almost vertical. A volunteer stations himself to lower bikes one after another. I warn him my horse is heavy. He gasps after holding it with one hand; while that works with aluminium hardtails, it doesn't work with my bike. At another spot, a rider kicks his Specialized downhill and slides after it. Other cyclists carry their bicycles down. As for me, I wheel my bike wherever it goes. Sometimes, I scoot along with my left leg while my right leg remains strapped to the bike with PowerGrip. I'm so glad I didn't use my clipless pedals. Once, my front wheel plunges into a hole and comes to a dead stop. My right foot comes free and easy. Only the paranoid survive. I warn the rider behind me about the hole. He asks me: "Why did we choose this hobby?"

Clear skies
Uphill, it gets so misty in the clouds that I turn on my rear blinkers. On the way down, I catch sight of sea level through the trees. A welcome sight. I haven't asked any marshall "how long more" because I don't want to know in case they give me bad news or tell me "almost there" when it's not. Seeing civilisation within grasp is exciting. I exit the trail near a rubbish dump. I'm now on the main road. Some officials stop traffic just for me. The road is the best part of the ride! I sprint at 33 km/h on my knobbies and mud-encrusted drive train. The mud flies off the tyres, adding to the collection of grit in my mouth from the trail. By now, I've stopped drinking because my waterbottle is mud-encrusted all the way.

I reach the finish line. There are several tents there and I'm not sure where to go - the vibrations from the trail are still addling my brain. I get my medal (which states "Phew, I survived" at the back), down some fluids and food. Time: around noon. Position: 96 out of 250 (I'm told 350 riders registered).

The first cyclist comes in around 10.30. It seems they pedal most of the way and are ahead of the pack from the start. The first Singapore rider is position #8. Most of the SACA cyclists finish the ride by 11.30. One of them asks me: "You just came"? While waiting for my assorted pals, I head for the first aid tent. The kid washes away the mud, which means rubbing the wound and applying alcohol to intoxicate the skin. Ouch, ouch, ouch. The kid stops. I say, go on. After the ride, we compare wounds. Some had fallen on the metal drain covers. Major abrasions. TYS and LKS suffer brake failure. I fix TYS' brakes for the ride back to the hotel; that she came soon after me without brakes is testament to her riding - and tumbling - skills. This is my wildest cycling adventure to date. I'm glad I came. I'm glad it's over.

After the ride, I watch the SACA cyclists look after their bicycles before they go for lunch. During dinner under a big tent, we eat in the downpour and watch the video of the ride, reliving the memories, the agony and the ecstasy. I ask rider #8 about my bike; he suggests I lighten my wheelset (some cost $1,500). We also hope to win big lucky draw prizes. Belgian W gets a Scott racing frame. There are also Giant frames and a Santa Cruz. Me, I get a t-shirt.

The beginning, the end
The journey to Penang starts with a ride on a pick-up truck to Beach Road. First time my horsey has been on a vehicle and so far away. The bus company wants us to box our bicycles so we don't damage his upholstery. I sandwich my bike in between two sheets of cardboard. We reach Penang via overnight bus. Our hotel is called "Waterfall". In case we forget that water falls, the ceiling leaks in places. That's the only let down; the staff are kind.

My first ride in Penang is on Sat 4 Oct. If it's a warm up ride, why do I feel cold? It's the rain. It rains so hard, it hurts. My mobile phone drowns despite two layers of plastic. We cycle through padi fields and village tracks. There's just over a dozen of us. I ride today just in case I chicken out on Sun. I'm cold, muddy, miserable and behind. My headset is loose again as usual and I fix it by hand. My bike computer doesn't work. I stop and figure out why - the wheel is the wrong way round. Duh! I chant to myself: "I am having fun, I am having fun."

On Mon, after an overnight bus ride back to Singapore, I cycle home in the drizzle. Piece of cake, after the torrential rain in Penang. I get home safely despite the bad omens of two accidents I see. And a few close calls, including a man at work waving a broom that might've gotten in my spokes, and the usual drivers whose optic nerves aren't wired to see cyclists.

Hall of fame
  • "Making it possible" award to Ling the Merciless and Tchi Mun for arranging the transport and accommodation in the SACA entourage. To Jarod (and Roland) for the pick-up ride to Beach Road. And to Sue Ann, Derrick and the many volunteers who marshalled, stopped traffic, first-aided, fed, watered and cared for hundreds of us in Malaysia's biggest mountain bike event (a Guiness world record)
  • "Grateful thanks" award to the the strangers who helped or simply offered encouragement though they too were going through the same thing
  • "Cheerleader" award to Winnie, Bikerboey, James the Mechanic Smurf. Special thanks to Winnie for telling me about the ride, to Bikerboey who warns me to go with knobbies, to James for the big spanner to fix my headset and to Papa Smurf Nik for telling me: "You came all the way here, at least go and see the Penang trail."
  • "Broken skin but no broken bones" award to those who completed the ride without brakes
  • "Flash" award to the speedy bikers who pedal while others walk. Beykha, of course, already has an official award for being Queen of the Hill, reaching the top in 43 minutes.
  • "Power Man" award to Lynten for using a single-speed bike and to Lioe for riding with the heaviest bike and yet remaining cheerful.
Tech note My new Shimano M082 shoes are now broken in. I've damaged it after removing the studs, but it's safer (and lighter) for use with PowerGrips. And bike has shown how weight is a disadvantage except for boxers and sumo wrestlers. Time for a new bike? It's hard to say goodbye, horsey has served me faithfully for so many years. It hasn't abandoned me, how can I abandon it? As Papa Smurf says, the best bike is the one you have the best memories of. And this ride up "Pain-ang" Hill certainly counts as one of them.

Sunday, September 28, 2003

Sep: 547 km

Sun 28 Sep: Singaporean sheds blood on Malaysian soil
To Pengarang, 86 km. AD and I go on a charm offensive in Johore. To dispel the notion of stuck up Singaporeans, we wave and say "hello". But the ground rises against me - when I unclip my SPD on the left ... and fall on the right. This is the worst fall ever; the fifth fall on my fourth ride. My falls are all in Malaysia. Today, I bash my elbow and knee. My worst case of road rash ever as an adult and one of the dumbest moves ever. Someone asks me if I'm insured. I reply there's no insurance for stupidity. Also with me today are M and M, a couple (Z and S) on Dean titanium bikes, and medical student SY, who takes great interest in AD's first aid kit. I have a headache too on the way there - it's the heat. But when I get on my bicycle, somehow the pain is gone. I see trees, the sea, the road meandering through the tall grass which waves in the breeze, the hill in the distance.

Tech note Had been struggling to remove my SPD pedals, struggling till I sweat, to no avail. It's not that I'm screwing in the wrong direction. I drop by bikeshop man, who gives it two light taps and voila! it is done. SPD - rhymes with speedy, which is why I put them on. But so far, I haven't broken my 47 km/h record. And they cause me pain literally.

Wed 24 Sep: Cancer man
To Sengkang, 25 km. Mr Lim wears slacks and boat shoes. He used to ride a Honda Goldwing (1,500 cc). Tonight, he rides a rigid Gary Fisher. He's cycling now instead of motorbiking because he's a cancer survivor, he says. Also riding tonight is a cyclist with a well-lit rear: five blinkers from the saddle down to the seat stays. If he could synchronise the blinking, what a sight that would be. Tonight, the only regular rider besides me is WH. The rest are guests from Bishan Park group.

Fri 19 Sep: Slow motion
To Sembawang, 32 km. It looks like the speed limit was below 20 km/h. Sometimes, they were going at 10 km/h - on a flat road. Enjoying themselves, I guess. Or perhaps they were off form months after the NPCC round island? Maybe I'm off form too; with my SPD, I could barely hit 40 km/h; or perhaps I hadn't warmed up yet. I cut short the ride; instead of going to Admiralty Road West, we just go to Sembawang Park. Hope they like it; some of them haven't been on tonight's route. TKL, who organises all these NPCC night rides, brings a guest tonight - the guy who gave her a KHS. He rides one too.

Sat 13 Sep: Northern territories
To Admiralty Road West and Sembawang, 62 km. I recce next week's NPCC ride; don't want to lead anyone astray. At Kampong Wak Hassan and Sembawang Park connector, I'm the only one on the road, except for three other cyclists. I could've been off-road in Pengarang this weekend with Bikerboey & Co, but I'd to work all day.
Tech note I've logged almost 100 km on my clipless pedals. No falls so far, but two close calls. Pedals seem harder to unclip today. And I've not hit above 40 km/h on my own steam. Pedals too tight? Or I'm too tired? So tired, I tell AF (I'm at his housewarming today) that I'll skip his Sun Johore ride. Have forgotten what it's like to snooze into a lazy Sun morning. I've been working - and cycling - so hard.

Tue 9 Sep: Riding like a newbie
To Sembawang, 36 km.
Tech note I buy a pair of Shimano 520 pedals. Last night, I install the right pedal plus all the cleats but the left pedal defeats me and my allen key gets bent. LSL tells me I screwed the wrong way. I buy a wrench and get it right. I try the clipping on and off a few times at home, then I hit the carpark. It's easier to clip out than to clip in; at first, I have to tap dance to clip in. My phone rings, I stop to answer it. I forget I'm clipped in, but manage to unclip in time. I get out of Ang Mo Kio go fast enough to overtake a tortoise at Old Upper Thomson Rd. I explore Sembawang / Canberra, stopping now and then to adjust pedals and cleats. Amazing how $45 (the pedals) can bring so much happiness. Cycling is cheap fun - for $10 (food and beverage), I can have fun all day. With my new toys, I can't wait to race with the roadies again.

Sun 7 Sep: Bridge over water
To Johore, 81 km. The road on the bridge soars over Sungei Pelentong, drawing me inexorably towards it. I spur my horse and charge uphill, overtaking the other cyclists. I don't want to struggle with the heavy frame at slower speed uphill. As I near the peak, I slow down to enjoy the scenery on either side. AF, who leads the ride, tells me it used to be a mangrove swamp. Down the bridge, I smell the pong. Ugly smell but negated by the beauty. Another beautiful scene on this ride: the east side of the Straits of Johore, where there's a short stretch of beach, with trees and shady spots. Feels kind of strange looking at the Singapore coast from Johore instead of the other way round. Other interesting memories of this ride: yong tau fu with chee cheong fun at a rundown coffeeshop, ice cream at McDonalds.

Tech note I drop by to see bikeshop man about clipless pedals. He has various Shimanos, the cheapest being 515 at $75. The price of convenience I guess, compared to half price at www.togoparts.com.

Wed 3 Sep: Escape velocity
To Seletar, 31 km. The "padre" lets me have a spin on his $4,500 Trek OCLV. A few spins of the crank and whoa, what a thrill. That speed would've put paid to the bloodsucking mosquito that flew into my ear at Seletar dam. While chowing down prata and stuff at Casuarina road, they talk about death defying US mountain bikers, and how people die on the mountain that towers above all mountains - Everest.

Sunday, September 21, 2003

Six falls at Kota Tinggi

Sat-Sun 20-21 Sep
To Kota Tinggi, 194 km. There are two falls in Kota Tinggi, one on the beaten track and one off road, made by water. As for the other four falls, I made them when I crashed on my SPDs. My first ever crash is on the road, when I make an emergency brake at the traffic lights. Good thing there was a nice grass patch on my left. The other three crashes are off road at Lombong, when I found myself on the ground after I lose traction with my slicks on loose gravel. The fourth crash has me landing with my right arm on a rock. Ouch. No bloodshed or major abrasions.

So, why am I on slicks off road? Because there's so much road between Singapore and Kota Tinggi, and perhaps 10% of that distance off road. Besides, I hadn't planned to go off road. I wanted to snooze after last night's ride. But LKS, whom I meet for the first time today, persuades me: "The trail is dry." Well, most of it is. But my bicycle, being chromoly, has such a magnetic personality - it attracts dirt. Oh, what a mess. I try pushing through the mud but that just gets my cleats all muddy. All the better to get stuck on my pedals. I'm so happy when I see the tarred road. A welcome sight, notwithstanding the series of rolling hills between me and a soft bed.

We stop by a car workshop to give our bicycles spa treatment. Hose it down, soap it up, rinse it and blow dry (no kidding!). All for two ringgit per bicycle. The air jet is so powerful, it blasts crud off my cleats and brake pads. First time I've ever played with an air jet; what a toy. Other firsts on this ride:

First century ride, first Malaysian ride, first off road, first crash (and more) on SPDs.
Crossing not one but two streams. The water is so clear. My shoes are wet but nope, didn't catch any fish with it. When I peel my socks off after the ride, my feet are deathly white.
I twist my chain! !@#$% front d mangled it while I'm trying to change gear at high speed, trying to keep Belgian W in sight. Had to straighten it with pliers.
Seeing someone trash me on road and off road: that's Belgian W. See him wheelie in the dirt. Cross streams without getting his shoes wet. Disappear into the distance uphill on road and off road. My consolation: he's only 25. He tells me was attracted to his Canondale mainly because of the yellow colour, and after the road test, he was sold on it.
TYS is there too, and she gains the respect of even W. We marvel at how she powers on slow and steady. In fact, she's the first in Singapore, way ahead of us. Duh, I didn't even see her overtake us. W and I get lost in Johore Bahru. We think the right way is left, but right is right. I pay for my folly by getting all muddy. Somehow, W stays much cleaner - what amazing off road skills. Aye, that's what cycling in the Alps does I guess.

The ride was so so, because I hate dirt on my bike and having to clean and lube it. But the company - and food - are great. Glad that Bikerboey and H are around. Bikerboey was the one who got me a gang to hang out with. H, his video and his song-and-dance. Well, that's the magic of the fellowship of the spins. LKS is a marvel too - look at his heavily laden bike - for once, my bike loses the "heaviest bike" contest. He (and TYS) knows Johore like home.

Tech note My knees don't hurt despite the SPDs. Glad I got the cleats in the right place after all the by-the-roadside adjustments on the past three rides. While they are risky, SPDs do make a nice difference in pedalling. Will keep them on for road rides. Too bad they're scratched now from the falls. Less than a month old, but how seasoned they look now.

Sunday, August 31, 2003

Aug: 815 km

Sun 31 Aug: 10 months in the saddle
To Johore, 64 km. We see a couple of heavily-laden Fuji bikes and go over to talk to the Korean couple. They are on an epic journey covering Europe and Asia. They have cycled from China to Johore and are going to Thailand to buy air tickets. It's cheaper there, they say, compared to Singapore and Malaysia. We wish each other safe journey and ride on. Today's ride is a "welcome back" ride from AF; I hadn't cycled with him since 2 Feb, until he returned from abroad. So I don't miss this ride, though I have only four hours sleep after my 30 Aug ride. Joining the ride are some cyclists I've met before: W and LYL. Looks like I'm getting to know more and more serious riders; those who can ride for hours non-stop. Bike rides with them are a pain in the butt unless I wear bicycle shorts!

Tech note One of the cyclists on 1.25" tyres has a puncture. OK, I give up my idea of such tyres as they blow out more frequently. That's why I literally dumped my racer in the first place at the garbage dump in 1995 to get horsey.

Sat 30 Aug: Starry starry night
To Jurong Hill, 66 km. The multitude of lights on Jurong Island is more than any stars seen through the cloudy sky. Outshone, Mars looks on forlonly as the dozen or so of us perch on the tower at Jurong Hill. It's the first time I'm on the hill. LCT points out the sights to me. Jurong Island looks like a jewel. No wonder it's a potential terrorist target. No wonder we're not allowed in. I start tonight's ride by leading part of the group from Yio Chu Kang, and get a little lost in Sungei Kadut and Choa Chu Kang. Well, at least I don't really need a map and compass now; I just use the GPS in my head (Guess, Persevere and Search!). (At Jurong, some of the cyclists ask why I ride so much, don't I have a life? Well, cycling is my life.) On the way home, I draft 40+ km/h behind an old man on an old bicycle until we part ways. Today, I break the 7,000 km barrier.
Photo courtesy of Gentle Giant
Wed 27 Aug: Mars, here we come
To Sembawang Park, 33 km. Mars is closer to Earth than it's ever been in the past 60,000 years. We cycle to Sembawang Park to check out the red planet. It's a bright dot in the night sky, like someone far away pointing a torch with a bright yellow beam. Besides Mars, we also see cyclists who gather on Saturday nights at Bishan Park 2, 7.30 pm. They're serious riders - just look at their gleaming, well-used bikes. Reminds me of me. Joining the ride for the second time is D, on a Titanium Merlin. He's 56 years old but I struggle to overtake him sometimes. Speed is relative. I go at 40 km/h. The roadies zip past me as usual. A Porsche appears and cruises past us; I don't even get to draft behind it for a micro-second.

Tech note I test drive a Trek 7500FX. Bikeshop man (Orchard Road ) says it's the bicycle for me, judging from the smile on my face. At $1,700, it sure rides better than the $900 Marin with lower end parts (my horse can beat the Marin anytime). On the Trek, I crest a steep little slope in my office clothes without breaking into a sweat. RN tells me this is the bike Koo Swee Cheow is riding to Beijing.

Sun 24 Aug: From soft light to strong sun
To Bukit Panjang and Lim Chu Kang, 82 km. It's 7 am. The soft dawn light caresses the still waters of Seletar Reservoir. The quiet waters mirrow the mood of the dawn sky - gloom. There isn't a cloud to be seen in the sky, just a vast expanse of grey. Somehow, there's beauty in melancholy. The joggers and cyclists are out on the streets. At Bukit Panjang, the hustle and bustle of Sunday market marks the start of the ride - it's just Bikerboey and me, with a handful of joggers. For the first time, I meet Tim of BOAC. We take to our wheels and part ways towards the biking trail, including a flooded track with tadpoles. What a mess. For the third week in a row, I've to clean my bicycle.

Tech note I feel tired today. Maybe I'm tired of my horse; I'd ridden it for 6,920 km. It's better equipped now than it has ever been, yet I can't ride with the roadies and have to forgo a ride to Batu Pahat next week. How can I go at 38-40 km/h constant speed?

Sat 23 Aug: Road rage
To Sims Ave, 32 km. It's midnight. The couple saunter across the road which belongs to their grandfather. Not knowing their ancestry, a motorist honks them. The couple scurries away - right into my path. I brake and shake my head. The guy yells at me and wants to fight. His girlfriend calls him back like one calls a runaway dog. I follow my standard procedure when meeting a rabid dog: pedal away. The guy has no road sense and is a road pizza candidate. I'd just come back from a durian supper with the 16 NPCC fellows and guests including Gentle Giant and LCT (the latter tells me about the Thailand ride I'd missed and the wonders of XTR components). This is the second ride I'm leading after the NPCC round island. On both occasions, I lead them astray. Somehow, I manage to find my way home in 30 minutes even though I'd no idea where I was when supping on durians.

Wed 20 Aug: ???
To Kranji, Lim Chu Kang, Bukit Timah, 61 km. It's sounds impossible. I see it with my own eyes but still find it hard to believe. J, on a Titus titanium bike and 2.1" knobbies, cruises past me while I'm going at 41 km/h. And this isn't just a flash in a pan. For most of the ride, he's out there in front with the roadies. I draft behind them but soon get left behind. I'm glad I can draft behind WH to catch my breath before zooming off again in search of the roadies. Four of the cyclists, including two guests "picked up" along the road, drop out at the end of Mandai Road. The rest of us go on to Kranji. Though there's seven of us left, it still feels spooky along the roads there. I'm almost glad to see the occasional truck go by! At Bukit Timah, a reckless driver turns and almost turns G into road pizza.
Tech note Menthol lip balm is mmmmm.

Sun 17 Aug: Bike fix
Ang Mo Kio, 5 km.
Tech note I drop by my regular bike shop man after an exhausting day of chores including cleaning and lubing my bicycle. He swaps a nut on my headset and waves away my offer of payment. I ask him if he has tyre patches and ask him how the should be fixed. As he doesn't sell loose tyre patches, I go to another shop and spend $1 for five patches and $1 for a large tube of glue.

Wed 13 Aug: Foreign talent
To Marina and Kallang, 38 km. His chain fell off and he stood on the left lane trying to fix it. I motion to him to move onto the grass verge so he doesn't get mown down by traffic. With my eloquent sign language, I help him to put the chain back on. "Thank you", he says in his accent (Bangladesh?). I cycle on. Along the way, I see his compatriot in slippers on a heavy steel bike. Despite his getup, he's going at 30 km/h. I wonder why they are cycling - did they just get off work at 11 pm while I ride for fun? Tonight, there's just three of us night riders as there was no e-mail notification. We turn up anyway and I lead them via Dyson Road to Evans Road. RN (on his carbon full-suspension Trek - no wonder he's so fast) takes us up the steps to the Marina viaduct. We then head towards the Indoor Stadium for a break. Doesn't really count - I'm supposed to be on my way today to Thailand with Bikerboey & Co for rides and durian. But duty calls - for the fourth time in a row, leave is canned.

National Day, Sat 9 Aug: Fireworks
To Bukit Panjang, Choa Chu Kang and city, 116 km. With a crackle like small arms fire, the fireworks streak into the sky and explode. The night air reveberates as, in their death knell, the fireworks paint the sky with multicolour streaks of light. Ironic how an invention often associated with death (gunpowder) can be such an uplifting sight. Watching the fireworks "live" for the first time in my life sure beats all those years of watching them on TV. Quite a fitting end to a ride which started badly in the morning.

I forget my helmet and go home to get it. I forget my water bottle and go home again to get it. I get lost in Bukit Panjang. Twice. I am 40 minutes late and 14 of them wait for me. After cycling 40 km, I don't even have a chance to empty my bladder and fill up my water bottle. Our first guide for the day, "Norman", takes us to some place around Bukit Timah. There are thorns and roots all over. Still, I get to see a butterfly landing on road queen's colourful watch. After lunch, I take over the ride. And get lost in Bukit Panjang - again - this time with everyone following me on an unmerry go round.

Though I am on slicks at 46 psi (first time), I don't't fall or shed any blood at Bukit Timah like some of my pals. LX has a bad time; she doesn't unclip in time and gets a few long scratches. She loses her $300 glasses too. Another rider doesn't unclip in time and breaks his XT rear d. And in the afternoon, Gentle Giant is so knackered she decides not to see the fireworks. Today, I lead them to Turut Track. Though I ride with trepidation, guess what - no dogs!

Tech note The trails is so bad, my headset is shaken loose. I go to the bike shop at 9 pm and it's still open. Bikeshop man sullenly lends me his spanner. It's only when I buy a floor pump and lizard skin that he opens up. I ask him what happens if the threads on my headset are stripped away. He agrees that'll be the end of my horse. I wonder if and when that will happen. At Bukit Timah, the Avianti rider shows me a crack on his headset - a candidate for catastrophic frame failure. Another cyclist, J, is on a 10-year-old Clark Kent titanium frame. Maybe I should get a titanium frame, if it lasts for such a long time.

$25 floor pump works like a breeze. When I attach the hose, the gauge tells me how many psi my tyre is right away. And the pump supposedly goes up to 160 psi. No problem going up to 50 psi, which is the highest I've ever gone. Wait till I ride with the "padre" again!

Wed 6 Aug: Keep pace or lose the race
To Changi, 62 km. The three roadies streak ahead. I gasp to stay on their tails at 38 km/h throughout all of East Coast. W stays on my tail. Somewhere along East Coast, W drops out but I respect her a lot for keeping up thus far - she'd done a triathlon over the weekend. The "padre" is surprised I'm still around. But soon after reaching Changi Coast Road, I too drop out - I suddenly think about a crummy meeting tomorrow and I just lost heart, dropped the pace and in seconds it was too late to catch up. Tonight, we dine at Changi Village instead of Casuarina Road.

Sat 2 Aug: Smiling in the wind
To Changi, 58 km. The wind roars past my ears and buffets my face, lifting it into a smile. Above the wind, I hear the hum of knobbies from my fellow riders. It is sheer joy to be on the road. Tonight, I cycle with a group of togoparts riders I've never met before. It'd rained, but it stops and the nine of us brave the red sky to roll on the roads. At Changi Village, they ply me with food and drink, and refuse to accept payment. They even ask if I've plastic bags for my phone in case it rains. Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes. At East Coast, fear of a squall overtakes me and I break away for home. I break my flat road speed record, from 42 to 46 km/h.

Tech note How did I break the speed record after months of trying? Perhaps because I lowered my bar ends and raised my seat past the knee pain point. I also pumped my tyres to 45 psi for the first time, thanks to advice from J, whom I met on 30 Jul.

Saturday, August 16, 2003

Anticipation, awe, agony and adventure

To Batu Layar (Johore) and round island#4 Singapore, 198 km. I didn't know so much can be packed into one day of biking. I'll give today's ride an "A" grade.

Anticipation: AD's email on Friday was a sight for sore eyes, since I've been wondering how to spend the weekend in Singapore instead of Thailand (see 13 Aug entry). I sign up eagerly for his ride to Desaru and I anticipate meeting his pals - who knows, we might become regular bike pals.

Awe: AD's pals show up early - quite a feat compared to some bikers I know! They are mostly roadies and cruise along at 38 km/h. One of them, Belgian W, rides a Canondale with 1.25" slicks and I hear he can go at 40 km/h. My crusing speed is 35 km/h and I strain to keep up. I do keep up, but it's taking a toll. I'm glad when the road turns stony and I'm awed by the sight of the roadies pedaling along. What does it take to stop them? They're charity riders who've gone on the 1,000 km "Riding for Life" trip to Pahang this year. In Johore, they take turns to break the wind. AD, on his 24" bike, cruises along at 32 km/h.

Agony: we take a short break at Batu Layar. "Let's take the uphill road," says TSY on her old but trusty carbon Giant. And off they go, uphill and against a strong, constant headwind. My speed drops to 16 km/h. The roadies disappear into the distance and I'm alone. I try to enjoy the scenery but wonder about getting lost and stories about robberies haunt me. This is the first time I'm cycling solo in Pengarang. But since this isn't my first time there, I make it back safely to Sungei Rengit.

Admiration: two of the cyclists didn't join us for the ride; they'd crashed earlier on soon after landing in Johore. Both ride cromoly bicycles - all ligher than mine. LYL has a reconditioned 6-year-old KHS; it is in showroom condition. It got scratched while being stacked on the boat and must've gotten knocked about when he crashed into a ditch, taking his friend HWM with him. Both shed blood, with HWM sporting abrasions on her chin. Both don't make a fuss.

Anxiety: my tyre is punctured. The first time in the 8.5 year, 6,500 km history of my bike (that'll teach me to pump my tyres to 50 psi - another record). Over my protests, LYL changes my tyre. I'm embarassed, because he's the injured guy. AL helps to find what caused the puncture - a tiny fragment had penetrated the tyre cover. AL is really helpful, despite suffering from a stomach ache. He'd offered to let me draft behind him as we head for the jetty at Tanjong Pengelih. I'm drained and can't catch up with AD. Since it's only 4 pm, I decide to go round island Singapore. I'm ill-equipped; no lights, no map, no route, no compass. Still it's going to be an adventure; I hope the tyre puncture is the worst thing that happens to me today.

Adventure: I buy a rear blinker at Mr Bikes Enterprise. At 5 pm, after snacking at Changi Village (it's too early to eat after that heavy seafood lunch), I draft behind AD at Changi Coast Road before breaking off to continue on my round island Singapore. I'm drained; I can barely go at 32 km/h and soon drop to the mid 20s. At Shenton Way, it pours. I take cover at a bus stop and tuck into rice biscuits. This might well be my dinner ... Fortunately, the rain stops after about 30 minutes and I continue on my way. My bike is a mess from all that rain; to think I'd cleaned it thoroughly only last week. At East Coast, I meet SL - what a surprise. He asks me why I'm training so hard when he's content with just 70 km a day. I tell him I want to know what it's like to log 200 km in one day. I get lost in Jurong and it's only after asking a few helpful people that I'm back on track. It's deja vu as I follow the NPCC round island route. (In fact, if I travel faster than the speed of light, at some point in time and space, I'll overtake the sight of us going round island.) I seem to be making good progress though I'm going below 30 km/h. "Dinner" is just another snack from a petrol kiosk in Jurong. I cycle warily in Kranji, listening for the sudden rush of dogs. Sure enough, I come across a pack but the head monster merely barks a warning. I make it home just after 11 pm. The ride has taken 7 hours, including the one hour ride from home to Changi in the morning. Just as I reach home, it pours - for hours. I take off my socks, which were already soaked in Johore. My feet are white and wrinked.

Tech note Headset is loose again. Bike shop boy at Pengarang says I can change the thingy at the top and bottom of the headtube for RM10. I decide to get it fixed by my regular bike man.

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

Jul: 543 km

Wed 30 Jul: Stressed if you do, more stressed if you don't
To Admiralty Road West, 46 km. It's stressful rushing for the Wed night ride; it's like trying to beat a deadline. I wolf down my dinner and rush to grab my bicycle instead of having a leisurely dinner. But I know I'll be restive instead of rested if I don't cycle. It's stressful trying to keep up with the roadies. I'm bound to fall behind, as sure as everyone fell behind Lance Armstrong five times on the Tour de France. Tonight, I ride at 51 km/h but still see the three roadies pull away from me. I cycle and breathe so hard my diaphragm hurts. But I know if I don't push myself as hard as I can go, I'm not being me. It's stressful trying to keep away from chendol and char kuay teow. After all, Lance Armstrong avoids ice cream. Clogged arteries don't go with good performance. But if I don't give myself a treat, work stress may get me first.
Photo courtesy of GKT
Sun 27 Jul: Golden bike, folding bike
To Changi, 73 km. I cycle alone to Changi, looking out for AD, whom I've been trying to contact. I don't even know what he looks like. Changi Coast Road is full of solo cyclists. I see a car up ahead drafting(!) behind a Caucasian lady. She's going at a steady 26km/h. I overtake her. But something's wrong; I can't go my usual 30+ km/h. Then, an "uncle" complete with silver hair and plastic bag on his handlebar overtakes me on his spray-painted golden racer. I draft behind him. He stands on his pedals to shake me off. I hang on, but as he heads towards East Coast I u-turn. I head for Tanah Merah ferry terminal; first time I'm there. AD finally makes contact and we meet; he rides an Airnimal. First time I've ever seen a performance bike that's foldable. He hollers to a couple of Europeans - their jerseys tell me they've done some charity ride in Thailand. One of them buys us sugarcane with lemon. Sheer pleasure. Merci!

Tech note Back home, I shift my headset down so I get a little more aerodynamic. Wedge is rusted solid!

Fri 25 Jul: Slow ride to slow food
To Holland Village, Bukit Merah, 36 km. The 14 of us cycle slowly (25 km/h or less) to Holland Village. Some are from NPCC, plus guests. At Dyson Road, we go slower. "It's so steep!" one cyclist says, as if I made it so. Well, I'm the bike leader. At the village, the guys don't want fast food; they want "slow food" from coffee shops. A couple of us scout around but couldn't find halal food. We mill around on our stationery bikes until ride organiser TKL suggests we go "ABC", which turns out to be at Bukit Merah. I buy some of them drinks as a "thank you" for the wonderful round island experience. We rest our legs and move our jaws eating and chatting, then us older types go home while the younger ones ride on. The night is still young for them. I wanted to keep cycling, but it's been a rough week for riding. Last Sun's ride to the southwest corner of Singapore was a washout thanks to rain. And I've been in solitary confinement all these weekday nights in the office, missing my Wed ride. Almost missed tonight's ride too ...

Sat 18 Jul: Old acquantainces, new people to avoid
To Mt Faber, Kent Ridge, Mandai, 65 km. At Tiong Hin where we start our ride, a couple walks up to me. It's K and D. I remember K because she broke my bike leader's crash-free record. Mr Trek OCLV is also there. He's come a long way - and quickly too. In a matter of months, he's transformed from a wannabe roadie into a full-fledged one who cycles in Malaysia. After we soar up the hills of Faber and Kent Ridge, we break away at Mandai. I draft behind him, until he spins off at 60 km/h. Now, he's the one who's waiting for me. During the ride, a couple of guys look at my horse and marvel. Solid frame, comfortable ride, they say. I also come across a couple of chaps worth avoiding for safety's sake. An honest mistake when cycling is one thing; reckless disregard when changing lanes is another.

Tech note Cycling with a freshly oiled chain is sheer pleasure.

Wed 16 Jul: Spin cycle, drip dry
To Mandai, 21 km. If a biathlon is two sports in one, perhaps cycling in heavy rain is a biathlon - part cycling, part swimming. It's hard to breathe with all that water running into nose and mouth. It's hard to see with all that stinging rain pelting down on eyeballs. My eyes redden, like when I swim. I shake violently, as if going off-road on my rigid bike and 40 psi tyres. But I'm just shivering from the cold of being drenched, as the wind whips about me. We're just die hards, the eight of us who ride in the rain. First, the night sky turns pink, giving Seletar Reservoir a strange hue. Lighting lights up the sky. Storm clouds rumble like someone is going to have diarrhoea. And soon enough, the portals of the sky open. Water pours down. So, this is fun? I have to clean my bicycle before it rusts. And you could rear fish in my shoes.

Sun 13 Jul: Smurfs in Sentosa
To Sentosa, 77 km. Mountain biking is fun, but I didn't know it'd be so fun just watching a bike clinic - conducted by "smurfs" dressed in blue. Credit goes to Papa Smurf N, and his entourage including a mechanic smurf, stunt smurf, Shrek the medic smurf, Archer the ride smurf (who also dramatised the various crash positions of a casualty) and poser smurf. It's an eventful day, with several firsts in my life, including going off-road in Sentosa with my slicks and remaining upright. LSH had a worse time; a couple of cyclists crash into her. She loses some skin but doesn't lose blood. As for her bike - its modesty is outraged.

Fri 10 Jul: The Road Queen
To River Valley, 37 km. I've heard about her from different groups of cyclists, but I've never met her. Until today, when LSL introduced me to the Road Queen. She rides an exotic bike - Sintesi. She's bubbly, full of life, friendly, but not to be trifled with when it comes to road safety. And safety, or the lack thereof, is what gets us 40-plus riders chewed out by bike leader N tonight, after we ride like kings of the road all over the place. Tonight's ride is larger than usual, because it includes Friday West Nite Riders on top of the usual Friday East Nite Riders. K asks me what's the difference in the psychographics between FWNR and FENR cyclists. I tell him some of the differences , then reflect further. FWNR usually has a dozen or less riders and seems more closely knit than FENR, which is like a loose group of sub-groups. It's is like being at Bukit Timah, where different species of humans (bikers and hikers) interact more since there are few of each other. Compared to being in an HDB estate, where interaction among strangers is less understandably because it's hard to interact with so many people at one go.

Wed 9 Jul: The gathering
To Woodlands, 45 km. A dozen cyclists meet today, including Bikerboey. I haven't seen her for half a year. She's a big girl with a big heart - she's back after trekking alone for four months in South America, including a stint with Operation Raleigh. R is back too, stitches and all, after his crash two weeks ago on another ride. That doesn't stop him from outpacing me (for a while anyway) on his full-suspension bike fitted with 2.35 /1.95 knobby tyres. We have a new rider join us for supper; it's W, who's emailed me before while I was caretaker for BOAC rides in Bikerboey's absence. She was cycling alone and was invited to join us. She remembers me as "the one with the Iron Horse". Tonight, I set a new personal speed record: 60.2 km/h.

Sun 6 Jul: Serendipity - a journey of discovery
To Tuas, 109 km. The bar off Portsdown Road is a wooden house all decked out in blue. Outside, you can dine alfresco and be one with the elements. Inside, it has two large rooms for dining, on small wooden tables and an assortment of chairs. You can choose your meals from a menu with names I've never seen before. This may well be the only bar in Singapore that serves Marmite sandwiches. I order a Magnum ice cream. So creamy, no wonder it's called ice cream ...

But all this will be no more come 13 Jul. After decades of existence, Col Bar will close down for good and fall down in pieces, as bulldozers come in to build a road. The picturesque, idyllic Portsdown Road will become another raging road, as torrents of traffic pour into the area.

We've come down Portsdam Road after exploring various hills eg at Marymount Road, Toa Payoh, Dyson, Coronation and Kent Ridge roads. Today's ride is the sequel to my first hills ride. I lead the first leg, while LCT leads the second leg around Jurong, which is his turf. I want to go to Jurong via Jalan Buroh; I've seen the scenes when I cycle on this road during round island rides at night, but never by day. Cycling on bridges across water is scenic. And the air in Jurong can be aromatic, especially around the coffee and toiletry factories.

We stop by Pasir Panjang, where we lunch courtesy of Gentle Giant, who graciously agrees to treat us as she is busy trekking around dreamland in the morning instead of cycling with us. Our last stop is at Raffles Marina, where we see white boats and tanned bodies. On the way home, LCT shows us a few attractions including Discovery Centre and SAFTI.

What a pair, LCT and I. Together, we probably know most corners of Singapore.

Tech note The mystery of shredded rims has been solved. LCT tells me XTR brake pads are called "rim eaters", because they gouge rims. Just as well I replaced the pads (see bikelog 25 Jun 03).

Wed 2 Jul: Heavy shelling
To Sembawang, 34 km. Bad day today; got caught in a cross fire. I barely make it out in time and in one piece for my ride back towards serenity. Tonight, we have a guest star for our ride - someone who's been seen regularly on TV and (surprise surprise) had been on the NPCC round island ride. The "padre" is also cycling tonight, but we seem to have run out of places to go to. They don't want to go to Toa Payoh Rise, so off we go again to Kampong Wak Hassan. I draft and overtake most of the roadies, but today isn't really a good ride - couldn't get past 40 km/h on my own steam. Must've been all that artillery fire.

Sunday, June 29, 2003

Jun: 660 km

Sun 29 Jun: Prequel to the sequel
To Holland Village, 32 km. Today, I recce solo the route for The Hills Are Alive 2: The Urban Jungle, the sequel to The Hills Are Alive 1. Putting on sunscreen feels strange as I've been cycling at night for months. The hills are fine (many thanks to LSL for showing me these routes). Today, I break my speed record: 86.2 km/h. Hard to believe: computer glitch or just a microsecond at this speed? I'm addicted to speed (not referring to drugs here). I try to draft behind motorbike, bus, car, anything faster than me. But they all accelerate faster than I can. Speed is of the essence - though it's sunny, suddenly I see angry black clouds. It's a race against the wind, which whips the leaves into a malestrom. The leaves dance in the wind, swirling and rolling on the road, then rising to say hello to my eyes. Back home, I almost come to grief. I'm drafting behind a van; suddenly it brakes and swerves left with no signal. I yell but he's oblivious to basic humanity. And I'm oblivious to basic common sense, risking my life for speed. Still, I make it out of the rain in the nick of time: it's a squall, with rain and branches pelting down.

Fri 27 Jun: Misty, spooky road
To Telok Blangah, 42 km. On my way to start point at Adam Rd food centre, I pass the cemetery at Kheam Hock Rd. This time, the street lamps cast an eerie yellow glow on the night mist. The wind rushes past me. It's chilly and spooky. Brrr! Tonight, there's just ten cyclists, with J leading again. Up Telok Blangah and down they sprawl when they reach the top. I sit beside D and he asks if I'm the one who wrote "the article about Iron Horse". He's referring to my website and I wonder how he tumbled onto it. He's a connoisseur of old bikes and restores them. Tonight, he rides a modified high-tensile steel racer. I also meet a rider who's got $1,200 wheelset and $240 saddle. Money can buy happiness ...
Tech note By front d is battle-tested tonight on one of the steepest hills in Singapore. It shifts so well, I couldn't believe it and had to do it again.

Wed 25 Jun: Leading from the middle
To Seletar, 39 km. The "padre" is absent again today. "Where shall we go?" asked the flock. "To Seletar," said I and off we went. Though I was supposed to lead, I ended up in the middle since M said I cycle too fast. G and GKT just streaked ahead of me. G is now the fasted: Canondale on slicks is hard to beat. GKT tells me he likes the place I led him to, but tonight, no free supper for me.
Tech note Tired of pieces coming off my rims onto my brake pads and causing more damage to my rims, I replace the front XTR brake pads with the original eight-year-old no brand brake pads. And they work fine so far. As does the new rear d I bought on 22 Jun :-)
Photo courtesy of GKT
Fri 20 Jun: Danger on the roads!
To Changi, 69 km. For the first time tonight, Gentle Giant joins togoparts' Friday West Night Ride. She agrees with me that the chaps here are different. She likes it too. From Adam Road, we head for Orchard Road enroute to Nicholl Highway. And I discover I've been wrong about the most dangerous roads in Singapore. #1 is still Lornie Road. I thought #2 was East Coast Park, but I was wrong. It's #3, while Orchard Road on Friday night is #2. We have safety in numbers, about a dozen of us, so motorists tend not to molest us. Still, on the roads, danger lurks everywhere. In Ang Mo Kio alone, a pedestrian brushed against me - I saw him and rang my bell twice. He tought it was Tinker Bell asking him to sleep. So he sleepwalks as he crosses the road. Either that, or he's cross-eyed. Whatever it is , I'm cross!

At Changi, I race with some cyclists, playing leap frog on the road as we take turns to overtake each other. So it's true: there are people who clock 35 km/h on knobbies.

Thu 19 Jun: Balik kampung

To Sembawang, 34 km. The "padre" who usually leads his flock of bikers isn't around tonight. Where shall we cycle to? I suggest Sembawang park connector and off we go, with me leading the way. I talk to J, who tells me part of her yoga story. Interesting story from an interesting girl. At Upper Thomson Rd, I break away - I gravitate towards hills (a feature of having a heavy bike; mass attracts mass). Looks like none of them have ever been to Kampong Wak Hassan, which is at one end of the connector. GKT likes it, and treats me to the usual prata supper at Casuarina Rd.

Wed 11 Jun: From 9 to 1
To Changi, 60 km. Tonight, there are nine cyclists - including P and D! Haven't seen P since the Kluang ride. D now rides a racer with some MTB parts including handlebar and crankset. Hmmm, a mutation just like the X-men. We split into two groups, then three, then four. Not really by design. The roadies want to go to Changi. P goes one way and I follow the rest - if P is fast on an MTB, on a racer he'll be like Flash. I think that with the "padre" and R, at least I can see their tail-lights. And that's how we end up in four groups, with me cycling solo down East Coast Park and Changi Coast Road. At Changi, I pass a rider in red. No, it isn't a Man U fan. He nods a greeting to me as we pass like two ships in the night. At 7-Eleven, I treat myself to a Milo freeze and Snickers ice cream (a first time taste for me). I tease Gentle Giant via SMS, and she socks it back to me.
Tech note I modify my new gloves by stuffing some sponge. Seems to work.

Sat 7 Jun: Bittersweet

To Marina South, 54 km. This is the last ride before the actual NPCC Charity Cyclethon next week. There's a briefing today, so I reluctantly forgo a ride to Pengarang with C and CN of the Wednesday night bike gang. The briefing is at the Police Academy. There, I learn how much work has been put into the ride. Really impressive planning and logistics. After the briefing, we put butts to saddles and cycle to National Stadium, then all over the place including Esplanade, Tanjong Rhu and Marina South. I pig out after that, to make up for the hunger all day (should've eaten after last night's ride; I was so hungry I couldn't sleep). One of the girls doesn't join us for dinner; she sits by herself by the bikes - she's too tired to eat. Another girl leaves our table to keep her company. Us guys do what we do - we stuff our faces and talk about cycling. I reluctantly scoot off before the rest leave - this is the third night in a row I've been cycling and I'm tired (I've never before cycled three nights in a row ). Before I go, I snap some photos. Soon, all these will be memories.

Tech note My palms hurt. I bought a pair of branded gloves - but wrong model - they seem to be for road bikes!

Fri 6 Jun: Long and winding road
To Kent Ridge Park, 43 km. This is what a Grand Prix must feel like. We speed down the long and winding road of South Buona Vista, twisting and turning. Suddenly, bike leader J of Togoparts (Friday West Night Ride) shoots past me and shouts "left!". So I turn left, as the roadies I'm tagging behind shoot past the turn. First time I've ever cycled up Kent Ridge Park. Beautiful sight of night lights, plus the incongruous sight of an AMX13 light tank too. The tank was brought into Singapore in 1969. It's more ancient than my bike! Sigh, too bad we don't stop to take in the sights. As we head downhill, I clock over 50 km/h. I misjudge my speed on one of the tight turns. Not sure what happened next, but I find myself standing on the grass patch beside the kerb. My pedal strikes the kerb and the impact dislodges the chain. J asks me a few time if I'm OK. Yeah, my first crash of 2003. Not a scratch on me, since I land feet first. My crank and bottom bracket seem OK too. Well, it's a charmed ride, since I am unmolested along the cemetery of Keam Hock Road (well, I was singing to God) and along Lornie Road on the way home.

Thu 5 Jun: Short and sweet
To Sembawang, 32 km. Tonight is a short ride with the Wednesday night gang (cycling on a Thursday night). The "padre" takes the lead as usual, being the only roadie. We try out Sembawang Ave, a nice, broad and straight road. I scoot off early to catch some sleep and ride with C part of the way as she heads for home.
Tech note My brake pads continue to pick up debris, peeling slivers off my brand new rims. I drop by to see Bikeshop Man, who is having a late night. He declines to sell me any brake pads. Instead, he removes the pads and starts filing them. I do the same for my remaining pads. He declines to take any money. What an honest man.

Sunday, June 22, 2003

Great expectations, great disappointments

To Paya Lebar Airbase, 65 km.

The expectations
Every year, the airbase is a magnet for thousands of riders and roller bladers from East Coast Park and other parks. They come from all corners of Singapore regardless of race, language or collision. This year, the first 300 who complete the 45 km route stand to win five Scott bikes worth $3,000 each. So, if I win a bicycle, can anyone say I've been unfaithful to my old faithful Iron Horse?

I prepare my bicycle for the ride last night and skip a movie with the NPCC chaps. Today 7.30 am, I'm at the bus stop waiting for the NPCC chaps. At 8 am, we give up waiting for those missing in action and cycle to the airbase. What a jam. Because of thermal scanning to catch severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) suspects, we end up shuffling our feet for an hour. By the time I get on my bike, my legs are stiff. And I miss the sight of seeing thousands of bikes around me all raring to go.

As the ride has been in progress for an hour already, I try to overtake every living thing in sight. I succeed most of the time, but some mountain bikers over take me. Hmmph. I try drafting some roadies and if they're too slow, I skip to the next roadie ahead. I hear a strange noise, it gets closer and soon it's behind me. Something wrong with my rear wheel? I look back and see a blader drafting behind me. What a strange sight. A roadie in front, then me on a mountain bike, then the blader. I see another roadie I know and ask him to join our circus. It's great to draft behind a pro - besides breaking the wind, he is an early warning and chooses the best route to avoid all those human land mines strewn all over the place. I even see a blader pushing a pram - the kid is asleep!

The disappointments
I pass the NPCC chaps as I go on my second lap. But I don't get to go on the third and last lap - the marshalls close the route so they can close shop on time. So disappointing. Even if I don't win a bicycle, I want to finish what I start. Also disappointing is the dissolution of the fellowship of the spins. Though we were at the bus stop, the magic is gone. Perhaps because H is abroad much of the time. Gentle Giant has stopped organising rides. M prefers sea sports now. B is working much of the time; I hear he's got a girlfriend too. And LSH rides with togoparts.

The saving grace: the NPCC chaps. Though we ride separately today, I join them for lunch and chat with ZL. She must love her job a lot, because she's been losing sleep the past several weekends for months to prepare for the round island . And she spends much time with the cadets: ride debrief last night (about three hours), then dinner, then the movie. Well, the cadets are truly a nice lot to be with. But this is probably the end of it.

Tech note I consider getting "egg beater" pedals which cost $99-120 depending on where one goes - all because of the race on 20 Jun where I had a hard time playing leap frog on the road. But I hear these pedals need maintenance, and I already have fuss free Power Grips (so far, I've never seen anyone else using them). So I decide to change my rear d instead, because I hear noise when I pedal. And I like my bike to hum along nicely. I end up with (drum roll please) an eight-speed LX rear d (instead of a seven-speed Shimano SIS which costs less than half the price). It escapes me why changing the rear d affects the alignment of the front d; after all, the freewheel hasn't shifted. Bikeshop man spends a lot of time trying to get the gears to shift properly.

Finally, he succeeds (after taking out the bottom bracket and putting it back in). And now (drum roll please), the chain goes up and down each chain ring with only a bit of fuss. As I do a short road test, I notice lots of wires sticking out of one shifter. I go back to the bikeshop; it turns out my front d is hanging by one strand! So I had to change that too.

Sunday, June 15, 2003

Small girl, big spirit

14-15 Jun

I don't think she's going to make it. When she starts this weekend's National Police Cadet Corp / Police round island trip (round island#3 for me) from National Stadium at 6 pm, C wobbles down Nicoll Highway. She pedals and coasts, pedals and coasts - and this is a flat road. Barely minutes after leaving the start point at National Stadium. I race after the other 19 riders in Team Alpha and tell the next cyclist (already several hundred metres away) to slow down. C's friend, J, stays behind to accompany her while I start the first of my "race ahead, wait for the laggards" tactics. When C starts coasting, I tell her to keep pedalling. It's going to be a long, long night.


I expect C to drop out at the first rest point, at West Coast. But she wants to go on. And so she does. She doesn't wail, whine or whimper to me (though I overhear her saying to J in Jurong that she's frustrated). The further she rides, the quieter she becomes. As I cycle from behind her to beside her to ask if she's OK, she just nods slightly, as if to save energy. At the rolling hills of Mandai, she stops to push. If she has problems at Mandai, she'll have problems at Tampines. I manage to persuade her to ride in the safety vehicle to Pasir Ris to resume the ride. At Pasir Ris, C rides towards Changi.

At Changi Coast Road, she stops. She's too tired to dismount. She just stands there. She looks at the road, which stretches ahead with no end in sight. I wonder what she's thinking. It's hard to keep going when the road ahead and the pain seems endless. But she wants to go on. We stop a few more times. I ask her to sit by the roadside. By this time, it's just the two of us on the road; I tell the rest to go on so they can reach the rest point earlier and rest longer. More riders pass us by, including a few Togoparts riders (I recognise them from the Friday East Night Ride).

At East Coast, she's too tired to cycle on the dirt track leading to the park. We push our bikes in the darkness. She's so tired, she stumbles against her pedals again and again. I offer to push her bicycle, and she passes it to me in a flash. She sees me having problems pushing two bikes and turns back to help, tired though she is. I wave her away.

She's only 15. She hardly cycles and even when she does, it's just short rides. And she signs up for this round island ride on a rental bike. And she keeps on going! She'll go far in life (and I don't mean more long distance cycling).

Another rider, T, has multiple attacks of the cramps. Even after a rub down by medics, he has problems. He tries, but rightly recognises his limitations and chooses to abandon the ride totally at Hougang. He didn't train for the ride at all. There are other riders who have cramps - whenever there's a hill to climb. One cyclist went down at the first hill as we went west towards Jurong. I discover these chaps haven't discovered how to use their gears. So I start cycling beside them, trying to see where their chains are on their freewheels and then telling them whether to use the left or right thumb shifters. One guy who doesn't have any problem at all - no cramps, no struggling with heavy backpacks - is a fat kid. He's bubbly from start to finish.

More significant moments about the ride:
  • Fastest moment: from Hougang to the end of Tampines Road. When T chooses to abandon the ride, we wait quite a while for the safety vehicle to pick him up after I used my walkie talkie to call the command post for help. Two groups of cyclists pass us by. When the vehicle arrives, I race after Team Alpha, overtaking the two groups in the process. Heh heh. I love tearing up and down hills like Tampines and Mandai.
  • Slowest moment: Walking with C on the East Coast dirt track - probably around 2-3 km/h. At East Coast Park, we cycle at 10 km/h.
  • Painful moment: watching C agonising at Changi Coast Road. Though I'm with her, she's alone in her pain. Also, my fingers hurt after fixing so many bikes: jammed rear derailleurs and chains that fall off chain rings (these chaps don't know how to switch gears) and adjusting seat heights.
  • Happy moment: watching C come back to life at the end point, at National Stadium around 6 am. There's energy in her movements and she talks again, while some of the other cyclists have collapsed into silence.
  • Grateful moment: to be the one holding onto the walkie talkie. At first, I didn't want it because it adds to the weight I have to carry, and having an earpiece in my ear all night long isn't fun. But hearing what's going on elsewhere during the ride involving 200 cyclists keeps me awake. It's really punishing to cycle soooo slowly - there's a tendency to fall asleep or fall off the bicycle. I'm also grateful I remember most of the route - as the sweeper, I discover that I end up leading from behind when the rest of the riders are nowhere in sight. Also to be grateful for: the bananas, bread and powdered energy drink powder at some of the rest points.
  • Embarrasing moment: trying to fix V-brakes for the first time in my life. One cyclist's brake is hanging on by just one strand. I'm know caliper and cantilever brakes, but brakes without a "c" in it are too high tech for me. Anyway I manage to fix it after some struggle. Also, I feel inadequate at East Coast Park. I hate the place, because people there walk, ride and blade regardless of race, language and collision.
  • Anxious moment: at the end of Mandai, when a fast-changing traffic light cuts Team Alpha into four groups, with me alone in the last group. As group 1 follows bike leader M, stragglers form groups 2 and 3 - all of whom miss a turning. Group 3 is within yelling distance. I yell at them to stop and wait, while I race after group 3. When group 3 reaches the turning point, group 2 has disappeared. I should've removed the bike chains and chained them to the nearest lamp-post. As it turns out, group 2 somehow made their own way to the rest point. Well, that saved me the trouble of reporting they'd been abducted by aliens.
  • Proud moment: no bloodshed. Sure, people had cramps and some fell, but there was no blood. And I lost no bike through mechanical failure. And only one rider (T) dropped out of the ride. Another proud moment was when the bike leader of another group said to her group: "Look how Alpha rides in single file." That discipline didn't happen naturally. I chewed out the team at Kranji after they meandered all over the narrow roads there.
  • Honoured moment: bike leader M tells me, before the ride starts, that she's honoured to ride with me. I wonder why.
  • Ironic moment: riding with the cops. Now and then, a police van (the safety vehicle) would follow behind us. After midnight, a traffic policeman rides with us to block traffic at some junctions. Ooh, see how well behaved the drivers are. Most of them anyway; the policeman yells at one of them. Cops make me nervous (must be a hang-up from my childhood when I was pulled over by a cop while cycling around my home), and here I am cycling in a police event.
  • Unexpected moment: when someone pushed my bicycle over at the start point! Horse's bar end got scratched. Guess it must be hard allow as it wasn't dented. I also didn't expect that this horse rider would get hoarse riding a bike, with all that yelling and pep talks. So, a sweeper = bike mechanic + safety officer + communications officer + disciplinarian + motivator.
Tech note I modify my NPCC-issue 100% cotton t-shirt by doing the usual: cutting off the bottom part so air can flow under the t-shirt. The guys marvel at this sartorial innovation. I tell them the t-shirt shrunk in the wash.