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

Blogging since 2003. Thank you for reading :))

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Journey or destination, a means or an end?

Oct distance: 148 km

Woodlands, 55 km. I didn't have to peer out the window to check the weather. The sunlight streaming in and the heat streaming in tells me it's a sunny day. I know I'll head to Woodlands but make several detours. It's not like I'm in a hurry to get to my destination and back, I'm out for a ride and so I ride.

I pass some boys and their toys - golf and model airplanes - and realise we've some things in common.
  • Mostly boys: though golf does have a higher proportion of girls, most mountain bikers and aeromodellers are guys.
  • Toys: they all slice through the air (including golf balls and clubs), so aerodynamics and aerospace materials are used. Bicycles do go airborne a little and roll on the ground. 
  • Weather affects us: we bake in the sun and are at risk of lighting strikes when it rains.
Some things are different.
  • Getting there: usually, cyclists can get to their start point on their own. Unless golf courses and fields are at their door steps, golfers and aeromodellers need a separate set of wheels.
  • Health: cycling is healthier. Golfing would be healthier than it is, if done without buggies and caddies. Aeromodellers do some walking but mostly stand there and twiddle thumbs and whirl. Cycling can be hazardous to health though, because of traffic or crashes.
As I cycle home, it suddenly pours. I wait 30 minutes. Better to chill out at a bus stop than get home and spend more than 30 minutes cleaning my drive train :p

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Mind games

To Woodlands, 47 km. I have a right not to ride. When something feels like a chore, to do it is a bore. When it's done for fun, it should be fun. So I lie in bed until I can stand it no more, then stand up. The sky is grey. Is it as grey as far as I can see, or beyond? Not that I can see far, when the sky is blocked in high-rise Singapore. Hence, I yearn for wide, open spaces. I fire up my Mac to look at the weather radar. All around where I live, a bright green hovers. That means rain. Will I get wet? The answer need not be blowing in the wind. Less than an hour later, the bright blob has become a piddling puddle. On the road I go! The road is slick with rain barely 2 km away from where I live. I pack my camera with me. Once in a while, I stop and shoot. To see the beauty in the ordinary. Even if it is an incinerator.

Things (grey sky) might look bad, but the bigger picture (weather radar) puts things in context. Even if it's bad, it might not last that long. Even if it does, look for the beauty in the ordinary.

Saturday, October 10, 2009


Woodlands, 46 km. I didn't cycle last week. Why bother when it feels like a chore? I am mired in malaise today too, until evening. I'm seized by the urge to rise and ride. And so I do. I usually ride to Woodlands clockwise. Today, I do it in reverse. Without the need for arm warmers or sunblock to ward off sunburn. Nor sunglasses and contact lenses. Nice and simple. Traffic is heavy and there are a few close calls. When traffic thins out, I look at the sky. Wispy cirrus clouds after the cumulo nimbus in the morning. I rue riding without my camera. Shots missed: smoke stacks silhoutted against the greying sky.