Across the road

Sep distance: 409 km

To Sengkang, 30 km. It's long and lies across the road, with alternating bands of black and yellow across its body. I slow down when I see it and speed up when I pass it. But it's no speed bump. It's a snake, and a big long one at that! I cycle away from Old Upper Thomson Road with its dark shadows and cars parked in the shadows, towards the wide open spaces of Sengkang. Enroute, the ups and downs of Yio Chu Kang road are like the ups and downs of my life. After feeling down this morning, I feel up after watching Eric Khoo's Be With Me, thanks to the inspiring sight of a blind lady cooking. Tonight, I train for the NUS Cycling Club's so-called "King of the Mountain". Am I setting myself up for disappointment, to pit myself against much younger folk? Maybe it's hubris, maybe it's being curious, but I want to know where I stand. At Sengkang, I pass some stuff over to RebelXH and tell her about the movie to cheer her up. Or maybe it's to remind myself to cheer up.

Biking or babysitting?

To Changi Village, 90 km. I'm supposed to be racing tonight, but couldn't form a team. So, CC asks me to help in a ride instead. I sign up as I thought it was a charity ride. But it isn't in aid of the needy. Not a good cause, but good grief. On the way to the start point, I'm almost whacked thrice, by an oblivious driver, a pedestrian and passengers getting out of a car. After a barebones briefing and sorting out some confusion, about 70 cyclists in four teams, sheperded by motly crew of SACA and other seasoned cyclists set off on a fitness club's midnight cycling ride. I'm Team B's sweeper. Feels like punishment. Fixing lights and adjusting bikes. Crawling at 10 km/h, looking after someone who's overcoming phobia after a crash. Lead rider tells me to let someone else look after her as I'm needed up front. As it turns out, I look after two girls, going at 12-20 km/h. At rest stops, we're given apples but no 100-plus! Well, the ride has its pluses. The weather is good and so is the company. They're suffering with aches in the butt and hands, but are in good spirits. "You saved us," they chirp at the end of the ride. Yeah, from a near collision with a car and another cyclist.

Photo courtesy of Caron C

Weather-beaten or beating the weather?

To Lim Chu Kang, 80 km. The weather man is right today. It pours in the morning. Why cycle in the rain when I don't have to? If only life's choices are easier. How can I tell whether to brave a storm or hang around going nowhere? And who knows how long the storm will last? There's no weatherman in life to tell the weather; even if there was, he'd probably be wrong. The only one who's right all the time is the Man Who Makes The Weather. As I start cycling, part of me feels down and just want to curl up in bed. But the other part of me wants to seek out the sun to thaw. Rather than being weather-beaten today, I hit the road in the afternoon to beat the weather on my trusty steed. It's reliable, unlike people. A motorist almost runs me down. I yell aggressively and almost want to wave my fist as the driver brakes in time. But why should I let her ruin my mood? Perhaps my new pair of sunglasses (a gift) makes me look fierce enough. Just like that dog at Kranji that glares balefully at me.

No. of close calls on the road: two..

Little things mean a lot

To Sengkang Ave West, 37 km. I lose a fifth of my team at work. But someone says I'm in a good mood today. Well, I already have some angels on my team and now's the opportunity to rebuild, retool and renew. I also drop by Bike Boutique (before its official opening) and pick up a new pair of bikeshorts for $20. I get off earlier today, just after 7 pm. And I ride with the policegal. I hear her go "wow" at the Seletar "dam". Well, at least I bring a little happiness into her life today.

Death and life

To Labrador Park and Anderson Bridge, 68 km.

Ride #1 A puffer fish puffs up to look fierce. But it's just puffery. When defeated, it's deflated. The impregnable fortress Singapore too, was defeated. Besides deflating British egos, there was death when the Japanese visited in World War 2. About 70 Togoparts bikers tour Labrador Park, Bukit Chandu and Hong Lim to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the end of Syonan-to, when Japanese colony reverted to British colony. Our guide Arnhem says if the US hadn't nuked Japan, some of us might not be around , as our parents mightn't have survived a longer Japanese occupation.

Ride #2 No one survives AIDS, but that shouldn't mean a living death for those with AIDs. I join a fundraising treasure hunt (a sideshow to Riding for Life's Kuala Lumpur-Singapore ride), with four teams of four cyclists each. We get one of the four checkpoints totally wrong, but all the AIDS questions right. My team is the first back, but we're ranked third, which is fine because third prize is better than first prize. Today's highlights: meeting Togoparts' moderators Arnhem, Wandie and Zishin. Being recognised by a fan with beauty, brawn and brains. Winning a Camelbak (the first time I own one).

Actual speaks louder than words

Sat 3 Sep:
To Woodlands and Changi, 104 km. The weather report states that tomorrow will be awful for riding. So tonight, for the first time ever, I ride with the Road Riders. The ride brief states we'll cruise at 28-32 km/h with occasional bursts of speed. Actually, 28-32 was the occasional speed. The rest of the time, the four of us cycle at up to 40 km/h, led by a triathlete carrying a backpack who hopes to take part in Ironman one day. We blast by five groups of kids (up to a hundred in all) wearing "Bike Connection" t-shirts and other cyclists pass us in the opposite direction. We burn up the roads but there's smoke also from smoking breaks. I head for home after Changi Coast Road as I'm sleepy even at those speeds. It is already "tomorrow". And the only water coming down is sweat.

Choose your poison

Aug distance: 932 km

To Old Upper Thomson Road, 29 km. Three big meetings this week, one involving a multi-million dollar budget and two involving decisions that'll make the news. And more to come next week. All this leaves me breathless. To catch my breath, I go ... cycling. It's counter-intuitive, but much of life is like that. Like the tragedy of the commons. I cycle in a park, where pedestrians and cyclists are supposed to coexist, just like cyclists are supposed to coexist with motorised vehicles on the road. So, which is more lethal: collision with pedestrians or vehicles? But this cyclist looks out for pedestrians and assume they will be unpredictable. Whereas drivers don't care two hoots about riders, though they may deign to toot their horn in irritation. On this ride, two old men say "good evening" to me as I cycle past. Whereas a group of youngsters saunter in front of me though the light has turned against them.

Road kill

To Lim Chu Kang Road, 70 km. There are two Malaysia rides this weekend. I join neither, because of sleep deprivation. The slack ride I'd planned didn't work out as people couldn't make it or pulled out. But there's always the Thomson roadie ride. The Little Shepard Girl chats with me and says I'm brave to show up on my mountain bike. I admire her battle scars and tell her I came to see how many roadies I can pass today.

Sleep deprivation leads to hallucination. I imagine I'm in a warbird. How many road bike silhouettes can I paint below my cockpit "window"? Bringing up the rear, I have at least six confirmed kills as I catch with them at a traffic light. I pass perhaps another six who'd stopped at the Mandai Road petrol kiosk. Then I fly solo until a Trek passes me. I slip behind his slipstream and chalk up another two kills: the Trekkie looks into his victims' eyes and passes them. I pop out at a Choa Chu Kang petrol kiosk as my butt hurts like never before - this isn't follicularitis, it's muscle pain. No pain, no gain and this is my best ride yet with the Thomson roadies, with a max speed of 48.9 km/h. My drivetrain behaves itself, shifting smoothly and quietly. It's my first ride with them on my little flying Tank.

Shock and awe

To Hyde Park Gate, 26 km. I'd flossed my sprockets, wiped my chain rings, scraped my jockey wheels, and wiped and lubed my new chain. Still, the chain declines to move up sprocket #5. Until I realise I've been turning the barrel adjuster the wrong way. Why am I so distracted? Because, after 18 years, I've found out what's happened to my former true love. She's married, with two kids aged 5 and 8, and a housewife since Oct 04. I know so, because today I saw her sister standing a few metres away in a hawker centre - a few metres that spanned 18 years. The shock to my system is so great, I'll need to reboot my heart. And this after a shock in the office today, when I see that things aren't they're said to be. Just like "Thomson Hills Drive" has no hills.

Idle chatter

To Changi Coast Road, 68 km. There are slack rides - and idle rides. The former involves riding at a slack pace. The latter involves lots of waiting, chatting and plain idling. We idle at the SAF Yacht Club. Well, not all that idle as I keep an eye on our bicycles outside the premises. The powers that be decree that bicycles are not allowed into the vast expanse of the club. We chat about our mutual friends and our rides. Bikerboey (the last time I rode with her was in Aug 04) tells us about a night ride past a haunted house. It's creepy hearing that story even in broad daylight. Not that there was all that much daylight today. I'm caught in the rain at the start and end of the ride. And buzzed by the usual "drunk" Singapore drivers who are so incapacitated, they are incapable of signalling their intentions.