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 :))

Saturday, January 30, 2016


Jan distance: 210 km

Seletar, 40 km. A few days ago, I took a test which was administered immediately after a course. I've not sat for a test since last century. Somehow, I passed the written test (multiple choice) with full marks, followed by a practical then oral tests.

Today, instead of being tested, I do the testing. On equipment: a Revelate bag, on loan from V (she even delivered it!) In my tours, I've always used a seat post rack. This bag doesn't need a rack at all.

Test over, now to do the "scoring" of bag with rack vs Revelate bike packing bag.

PS: it's not quite true I'm testing the equipment. It's also true my equipment test me, to see if I know how to use them.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Hope for the best

Changi 71 km. It's been raining on and off. I leave my camera at home; in a downpour, I've seen how the rain seeps in. Even when I ride towards blue skies, rain clouds just appear overhead in ambush. So why bother with the extra weight and add one more thing (wet camera) to worry about?

But it doesn't rain. Not a drop. I miss some great shots. I should've taken my camera and if it rains, just add more water proofing. Instead of thinking "it'll rain", I could've thought "it might not rain, and I might get some great shots".

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

Friday, January 15, 2016

Lighting and thunder

Upper Thomson Road, 57 km. Weather girl says it'll rain. I think, maybe they'll get it wrong today as they have on some other days.

As I head out, I see dark clouds. So I ride towards the light. Perhaps I was in the eye of the storm; suddenly the sky turns dark and rain pours. The storm is directly above me; I can tell from the split second between lightning and thunder. That's close!

The trees arch overhead, like a tunnel. In between is a light grey of heavy rain, undergirded by the dark grey of asphalt. The rain stings as it hits my bare arms and face. Yes, the weatherman is wrong: this is not a "shower" (a shower is like what you feel in the bathroom); this is a thunderstorm.

My disc brakes squeal in protest as I brake downhill. But I've figured out how to fix the noise without removing the pads and lathering them up. Squeeze the brakes, the manual equivalent of anti-braking system. Perhaps that gets rid of oily film. Or perhaps the storm is so heavy, it flushed oil off the road.

Monday, January 11, 2016

New year, new thinking

Upper Thomson,  42 km. There's only a minute (pun intended) difference between 2359 on 31 Dec to midnight. But when the minute ticks over, a new year begins: a small change that leads to a big one.

In my first ride of 2016, I decide to ride at night, on a Monday. I was going to go somewhere but decide to do loops instead. I've disliked cycling loops as I go in circles, but I realise that even if I go some where and come home, that's a loop too.

The road I loop is quiet and empty, with the occasional car - and wild boar. It used to bore me, but what's not to like? Instead of journeying to a destination,  my destination today is the journey itself.

What used to feel like a chore is now fun.

Also new is my cyclocomputer, replacing my 20 year old one that seemed erratic after being beside a blinker.