Jan distance: 238 km
Woodlands, 53 km. When Singapore drivers drive across the border to Malaysia, they still drive like Singapore drivers. Malaysia drivers are generally far better drivers - they signal and are patient when filtering and turning. However, the two cars with Malaysian licence plates in Singapore today are driven like Singapore cars - what right of way; might makes right. One driver was cross enough to mutter at me as he swerved across the junction. If there was a truck going the same way as me, the driver would've thought twice.
Cycling puts us at the mercy of the sun, the rain and horrible drivers. As we're not sheltered by metal, it also means we're exposed to human kindness. People around us who'd not spare a thought to drivers and their passengers who go by, shower us with smiles, waves, greetings and kindness.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Solo twogether
Woodlands, 56 km. I cycle alone, minding my business. To breach the piddling 50 km barrier, I make a little detour. As usual, the usual monkey business is going on. I don't mean the little monkeys that scurry across the road nonchalantly, I mean the big monkeys sitting in their cars which stop on the road without pulling over at the sight of monkeys. Deer freeze at the sight of headlights and it seems some motorists freeze at the sight of monkeys.
I cycle on, minding my own business a tad too much. Then I see a solo cyclist by the roadside. He doesn't seem like in trouble, his bike is ok. I stop anyway. Turns out to be a Frenchman who'd flown to Bangkok, cycled to Laos then Cambodia back to Thailand, to Malaysia and today is his first day in Singapore. He peers at his laptop; he has no maps, just some street names. I become his guide and lead him to a petrol kiosk where he gets a drink and a roadmap.
Along the way we pass foreign labour who sit on a pavement facing each other, eating with their hands under the shade of trees. When they finish eating, they will lie down and rest from their labours in the sun.
I lead the cyclotourist to the housing estate and then I'm lost but he finds the right little street. I leave him at the three-story home of his friend of a friend. He's so happy, he asks a resident to take a photo of us. His next stop: Australia and New Zealand. Bon voyage!
I cycle on, minding my own business a tad too much. Then I see a solo cyclist by the roadside. He doesn't seem like in trouble, his bike is ok. I stop anyway. Turns out to be a Frenchman who'd flown to Bangkok, cycled to Laos then Cambodia back to Thailand, to Malaysia and today is his first day in Singapore. He peers at his laptop; he has no maps, just some street names. I become his guide and lead him to a petrol kiosk where he gets a drink and a roadmap.
Along the way we pass foreign labour who sit on a pavement facing each other, eating with their hands under the shade of trees. When they finish eating, they will lie down and rest from their labours in the sun.
I lead the cyclotourist to the housing estate and then I'm lost but he finds the right little street. I leave him at the three-story home of his friend of a friend. He's so happy, he asks a resident to take a photo of us. His next stop: Australia and New Zealand. Bon voyage!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Babbling brook
Bukit Timah Road, 46 km. A babbling brook
Along the route
Quiet and safe
No motorists rude
Wheels that rolled along
The mighty Mekong
Home, it’s hard to find
A stream that sings along
The sun does beam
The birds do sing
A different journey
For wheels to spin
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Nature vs nurture
Singapore River, 42 km. I meet some friends who’d spent winter cycling in Taiwan. It might as well have been on another planet; they describe how local drivers drive patiently behind cyclists and overtake only when it’s safe. No middle finger salute either, more like a thumbs up from drivers safely ensconced within their cabins with shouts of “jiayou”. The cyclists were given free drinks in shops and a driver went out of his way to help frozen cyclists. Why are Singapore Chinese so different from Taiwan Chinese; common gene pool, yet today I get bullied by two drivers ruled by law of the jungle rather than law of the land. Perhaps it’s because Taiwan is bicycle factory of the world? But doesn’t the law of supply and demand mean that when something is abundant, it is less valued?
Today, I also get a personal tour of a museum by curator. It’s like he knows by heart the captions to the exhibits but ask him more and he’ll go beyond what’s written. A few pedal strokes away from the museum is a dig which uncovered remnants of World War 2, colonial building material, Temasek era pottery and pre-Temasek sand. All that treasure underfoot, covered by dirt. To some, that treasure is trash ...
Today, I also get a personal tour of a museum by curator. It’s like he knows by heart the captions to the exhibits but ask him more and he’ll go beyond what’s written. A few pedal strokes away from the museum is a dig which uncovered remnants of World War 2, colonial building material, Temasek era pottery and pre-Temasek sand. All that treasure underfoot, covered by dirt. To some, that treasure is trash ...
Friday, January 01, 2010
First ride of the year
The grey clouds look down on me and sprinkle some water. I quicken my pace, hoping to ride out from under the cloud cover. It is a tease, it is a trap. When I'm neither here nor there, it pours. I stop at a bus stop. And wait. A foreign worker from China talks to me and learns something. That taxis with red lights on the top don't stop. His bus comes, he beams and says goodbye. When the rain turns from "pour" to "trickle", I ride. Another trap; it pours again. I stop to eat. The rain trickles, then pours again. I wait no longer; all in all 1.5 hours have gone by in the rain. I'm cold, wet, hungry. I zip up my jersey and blink at the rain stings my eyes.
Is this first ride of the year a harbinger of things to come? Today is the first day of the year and the first day of a new decade. But yesterday is another day, it ended well as the last day of the year and the last day of a decade. Anyway, What's with all this symbolism? Reminds me of my Timor race, where I slipped and fell down the steps before the start of a day's race. "And that will be the last fall of the day," I told my stunned audience. And so it was.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Last ride of the year
Dec distance: 299 km
Jalan Buroh, 89 km. Primary mission: spend the last hours of the year in therapy - cycletherapy. If last year was the worst year ever here, this year is better - but not by much. Or perhaps it's just a different kind of bad; the last year I'd spent Christmas cycling in this little red dot of an island was in 2002. I don't have a break, just a break with tradition. Calculation and judgement carries into playtime. Secondary mission: log 3,500 km for the year; no more, no less. It all boils down to today's ride, which is double my usual distance. Traffic is heavy at Kranji; work vehicles jam up the road. Elsewhere, a foreign worker (not the "foreign talent" kind) sits alone in the dark, bottle by his side, with his thoughts and silence for company. At the turn around point, I treat myself to an ice cream cone - low fat, high calcium; comes with stamp of approval from Health Promotion Board too. Then I go for a curry puff. Work weighs heavy on my mind, which works things out as I cycle on auto pilot, unconsciously able to stop, go, turn, filter. And I make it home with 3,500 km cycled for the year. Since I cycle a little further than last year, I guess this year is a tad better than the last one. Today is also the last day of my first blog on Pacnet.
Happy new year, o blog reader :)
Jalan Buroh, 89 km. Primary mission: spend the last hours of the year in therapy - cycletherapy. If last year was the worst year ever here, this year is better - but not by much. Or perhaps it's just a different kind of bad; the last year I'd spent Christmas cycling in this little red dot of an island was in 2002. I don't have a break, just a break with tradition. Calculation and judgement carries into playtime. Secondary mission: log 3,500 km for the year; no more, no less. It all boils down to today's ride, which is double my usual distance. Traffic is heavy at Kranji; work vehicles jam up the road. Elsewhere, a foreign worker (not the "foreign talent" kind) sits alone in the dark, bottle by his side, with his thoughts and silence for company. At the turn around point, I treat myself to an ice cream cone - low fat, high calcium; comes with stamp of approval from Health Promotion Board too. Then I go for a curry puff. Work weighs heavy on my mind, which works things out as I cycle on auto pilot, unconsciously able to stop, go, turn, filter. And I make it home with 3,500 km cycled for the year. Since I cycle a little further than last year, I guess this year is a tad better than the last one. Today is also the last day of my first blog on Pacnet.
Happy new year, o blog reader :)
Friday, December 25, 2009
Home for Christmas 2
Punggol, 40 km.
Strategic intent: have a fun, safe ride. Not the same old route to Woodlands. No rain and little traffic. Environmental scan with weather radar. Observe three readings, note rain location and pattern, gauge wind direction.
Resource requirements: blinker and reflective strips, money for taxi just in case, big water bottle. No sunblock, contact lenses or arm warmers; too much hassle, too little fun.
Tactical execution: set off in late afternoon for picturesque Sengkang and Punggol. Little traffic, no rain. A little bit of offroad, where I once crashed and had pain in my wrist for a year. See radio-controlled aircraft fly. See dotted sky; as speckled as dirt on window pane - ah, kites; about 30 of them, silhouetted and still, see how they hover in the sky! One kite is printed like a radio-controlled aircraft. Check out a new road, it's broad and wide and takes me to Tampines. Sometimes, I don't know exactly where I am but keeping to strategic direction and reassurance presence of compass gets me home.
Performance evaluation: distance is a little short, but good fun. Mission accomplished.
Strategic intent: have a fun, safe ride. Not the same old route to Woodlands. No rain and little traffic. Environmental scan with weather radar. Observe three readings, note rain location and pattern, gauge wind direction.
Resource requirements: blinker and reflective strips, money for taxi just in case, big water bottle. No sunblock, contact lenses or arm warmers; too much hassle, too little fun.
Tactical execution: set off in late afternoon for picturesque Sengkang and Punggol. Little traffic, no rain. A little bit of offroad, where I once crashed and had pain in my wrist for a year. See radio-controlled aircraft fly. See dotted sky; as speckled as dirt on window pane - ah, kites; about 30 of them, silhouetted and still, see how they hover in the sky! One kite is printed like a radio-controlled aircraft. Check out a new road, it's broad and wide and takes me to Tampines. Sometimes, I don't know exactly where I am but keeping to strategic direction and reassurance presence of compass gets me home.
Performance evaluation: distance is a little short, but good fun. Mission accomplished.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Home for Christmas
Woodlands, 47 km. The last time I was home for Christmas was in 2002. In subsequent years, I was away cycling: Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia ... This year, work keeps me here while others go away. Here, some wear bling bling to Christmas parties. I put on my 'blink blink' to warn motorists to keep away. Cycling here is different from riding elsewhere because I:
a) Look at the weather radar to see whether and where it would rain (wet season here, dry season there)
b) Think about when drunk drivers would be on the road (Christmas is big party time here, not over there)
c) Cycle here at night (street lights here, usually none over there).
On the road, I see the law of the jungle in action: a car driver without even signaling cuts into a motorcyclist's way to make a left turn. A motorcyclist cuts into a cyclist's way; at least the former beeps the latter to relinquish her right of way. At Woodlands immigration, a procession of big trucks forms; 4-wheelers, 14-wheelers, 18-wheelers ... the tail back trails all the way back to the Turf Club.
a) Look at the weather radar to see whether and where it would rain (wet season here, dry season there)
b) Think about when drunk drivers would be on the road (Christmas is big party time here, not over there)
c) Cycle here at night (street lights here, usually none over there).
On the road, I see the law of the jungle in action: a car driver without even signaling cuts into a motorcyclist's way to make a left turn. A motorcyclist cuts into a cyclist's way; at least the former beeps the latter to relinquish her right of way. At Woodlands immigration, a procession of big trucks forms; 4-wheelers, 14-wheelers, 18-wheelers ... the tail back trails all the way back to the Turf Club.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
No where but here
0 km. Non-riding day. Yesterday, I dig. And lay out my cycling clothes. Today is a nice day to cycle. Sometimes sunny, sometimes cloudy. I wait all day for it to rain. It does not. I feel bad I do not cycle. Till I remember why I ride: to feel good. Since it feels good not to cycle today, why should I feel bad? I should get back on the saddle soon. Or the endorphins will not flow and my butt will get fat.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Dry in wet season
Lim Chu Kang, 66 km. Digging and lifting dirt is backbreaking. After a few hours on a dig yesterday, my back is sore. I cycle today anyway. I meet some Singapore cyclists I'd met in Timor, but they're looking for dirt. Me, I'm a roadie on MTB. I cycle with a solo roadie along the road, decked out in blue including bar tape. Two solo riders together. After some leap frog where we take turns to overtake each other, he leaves me behind. I'm knackered. I stop to eat and explore a river bank though, ironically, my water bottle is dry. I stop again to buy a drink. I'm pushing it, going on a two-bottle ride with just one water bottle. I didn't expect rainy December to be such a scorcher today. Life throws another curve-ball? Not really; if it rains all the time during rainy season, it'd be a deluge and that hasn't happened since the days of Noah.
Still, life has surprises. I see a lorry ahead in the wrong lane. The light is "green" to go ahead but "red" for turning. The lorry turns. I hear a quiet bang; if bangs can be considered quiet, this is one. When I pass the accident spot, a car is wedged between the lorry and a lamp post.
I reach home, grateful to be safe and for blue skies. And the rain pours. As a character in a Hindi movie said, if you're on a crowded train and someone pukes, look outside the window.
Still, life has surprises. I see a lorry ahead in the wrong lane. The light is "green" to go ahead but "red" for turning. The lorry turns. I hear a quiet bang; if bangs can be considered quiet, this is one. When I pass the accident spot, a car is wedged between the lorry and a lamp post.
I reach home, grateful to be safe and for blue skies. And the rain pours. As a character in a Hindi movie said, if you're on a crowded train and someone pukes, look outside the window.
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