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, July 25, 2004

Vicious cycle

Jul distance travelled: 370 km


To Tuas, 108 km. He carries a heavy load on his back and sweats more because of the weight and heat trapped between bag and body. And he gets dehydrated and tired faster. So he struggles more to keep moving. And sweats more. And gets more tired. And so goes the vicious cycle goes. The rest of us don't quite get to cycle as much, as we stop and wait, stop and wait. And on and on it goes as we go on our journey to the west, waiting for he who rides the vicious cycle. He doesn't even drink on the move, because he uses bottles with screw-tops. Still, we see some scenic sights today, including jugs of ice water at Raffles Marina. I'm so trigger happy, I use up an entire roll of film. "Nice, nice," says N the bike hasher, who has little problem keeping up on his full-suspension Santa Cruz. And sweeper Bikerboey seems happy enough drafting behind me on the last leg of the ride at 30 km/h, after everyone else breaks away. Whatta gal - kayaking yesterday, nine hours on the road today, and a ball game after that.

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

Police watch dog

To Punggol, 25 km. I reach the end of Punggol Road. Five dogs lie in a row but they do not molest me. A policeman stands outside his post beside the dogs. Now, that's what I call "police watch dog". I wonder why the dogs leave me alone, since I am alone and vulnerable. And why am I alone on this Wed night ride? Because I leave the office late (as usual) and ask the Wed night riders to ride first while I catch up. As I cycle, I wonder if they are in front or behind me. As it turns out, I reach the rendesvous ahead of them. Since there is no one there, I head for home and don't even pass them on the way home. Still, it was a good ride - short and sharp. And no dogs at my tail.

Sunday, July 18, 2004

Perspiration at Bukit Chandu

To Bukit Chandu, 83 km. Finding this place was serendipity. To pay homage to the memories of war heroes at "Reflections at Bukit Chandu", I cycle up the hill. The reward is multi-media and static displays of Malays who fought the Japanese to the end. Some of the survivors were offered their freedom if they took off their uniforms, but they chose to die in them. They merely delayed the onslaught of the enemy, who'd biked down Peninsula Malaysia. There are photos of them carrying their 10 kg rifles, battle gear and heavy steel bicycles as they go off road. At the museum is a tin cup, the only keepsake left to a widow by her warrior husband.

I also discover the picturesque Pandan Reservoir; I have the whole place to myself. And come across two bikeshops (Heap Hong and Tan Bike Shop) for the first time. I meet WC at the latter. What an interesting solo ride today. I'd wanted to ride with the Bike Aiders, but heavy workload leads to heavy eyelids and I spend 11 hours in bed this morning.

Saturday, July 10, 2004

Strange ride down memory lane

To Sembawang, 40 km. The road sign is gone, but the road is still there. Sort of anyway. It just peters out. Over 20 years ago, I'd hiked through Jalan Ulu Sembawang to Marsiling. Now, signs tell me to get lost. At Kampong Wak Hassan, which is also a shadow of its former self, a police van with lights flashing passes me, followed by a jeep with a machine gun mounted on it. I see a tandem bike with front suspension. And at St John's Road, which is near Canada Road (no kidding), I see two bunkers. Why would anyone build military fortifications in a residential area? Tough question, but no answer. It's easier to answer the question why I'm cycling today instead of Sun: I gotta work tomorrow. That means I've worked the equivalent of eight days this week. To stay sane, I ride today. And drop by three bike shops too to cheer myself up. Today marks the day I've ridden my horse past 13,000 km.

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

Better late than never

To Sengkang, 34 km. I get off work so late, I almost don't even bother to drop by the meeting point for the Wed night ride. But I drop by nonetheless, and am rewarded with the sight of five riders. We wait for a guest rider, then set off without him. The ride is so slow, an "ah beng" on a creaky bicycle (and de rigueur thick chain wrapped around the frame) overtakes us. We stop several times to await our guest rider. I chat with H, who completed a 1,400 km charity ride to Kota Bahru and back some weeks ago. I listen wistfully. My life now is all work, no big adventure, no respite.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

Weird ride

Half island, 80 km. I oversleep again today, just like last Sun. And again, I miss a Bike Aid ride. Like in a weird dream, strange things happen. I notice that generally, blue collar foreign talent wear dark colours and ride dark coloured bicycles, while white collar foreign talent wear bright colours and ride fancy bicycles. At Kranji, I whip out my camera for a shot and a battery pops out. Two vehicles drive by. It looks like they miss the battery, but it gets dented and leaks. At West Coast, my second of three rest stops, I see a cyclist with a squeaky bunny perched on her handlebars - WC. What's the probability of meeting her like that? It's our first ride together, but only for a few minutes as we head in different directions. Back home, my contact lens tears as I try to remove it. I spend anxious moments trying to get the remains out of my eye.