Tampines, for the last time

From the outside, looking in. Destruction awaits, trash as fate

Tampines, 34 km. Once again, dark clouds scud overhead. Rolling thunder portends pouring rain.

Once again, the east is clear. I head east, to Tampines trail. I've raced here three times, so I visit it three times to say goodbye. Outside the main gate, I take a photo as a keepsake.

To me, you're the best place in this country to cycle. You had everything, from Monster Mud Madness to Moonscape to Upper and Lower Hamburger, and Wooded Wonder. Gravel, sand, earth, water, trees, ascends, descends and plains.

14 good years.

Tampines, revisited

Tampines, 40 km. Dark clouds roll overhead. Thunder rolls. The east has bright blue skies and small, puffy white clouds. I go east. To where I used to race. It is boarded up. Closed since 1 Dec, states a sign that asks for understanding. Yeah, right.

Well, as least the sign writer, and whoever approved it, has empathy.

Goodbye. Again

Tampines, 32 km. I heard it's gone, but I want to see it for myself. When the rain stops, I head out.
The road is still slick from rain and water sprays up. And down. It pours again. I haven't cycled in the rain for so long. I'm resigned to it.

When I reach the Tampines trail, I see it is indeed gone. I was here while it was being upgraded for the inaugural Youth Olympics. The place where I've explored and races several times is flat. It'll become yet another housing estate.

This is the place where I had fun and fear. My worse crash. Bicycle races, joy rides and a cross country race on foot.

Now it is gone. Flattened for flats. Goodbye.

This is a year of goodbyes. Some good, as in good riddance. Some bad, as in sad.

Looking back

Nov distance: 125 km

Sembawang, 38 km. I use my Matt Black beauty for a short commute today. And my Little Red Tank for a joy ride. I used to look forward to cycling. Then I had to almost force myself to ride. Today is the former. I just have to cycle, and cycle I did, to the coast, to gaze at the water and the other, big country across the straits.

As I cycle there, I have flash backs of the wonderful times on my travels.

That other country is in dire straits, with two aircraft downed inexplicably.

I'm in dire straits too. Again. As I look back at my life, wow, I've gone through a lot. I'm no strawberry. I can take this.

Surprise, surprise

Around my home, 25 km. Surprise surprise. Rainfall is unusually high this month, but it doesn't rain
this evening. And I feel inclined to cycle, to explore.

I see an old lady along a deserted trail. I ask her for directions. She goes up, I go the opposite way. I didn't know the path will lead me past six dogs.

I quickly get off to walk and push my bicycle, hoping the mutts would mistake me for an old lady.

Surprise, surprise.

They leave me alone.

See the light

Around my home, 19 km. It's drizzling, but I head out to cycle. I've been cooped up all day, and getting out would be good for me.

While drops fall and the sky above is dark, I see light surround the dark clouds. I head east and tool about.

I don't have to let the rain, nor darkness, get to me.

PS: this is my 700th post. But who's counting? In 2003, each month's post could comprise several rides!

Interpretations

Around my home, 20 km. I see a house in its original condition, dwarfed by two bigger buildings on either side. One set of facts, two different interpretations.

Standing true to one's roots, or standing in the way of progress?

Chicken and egg

Around my home, 23 km.

Should I ride? Depends on where I want to go.

Where do I want to go? Depends on whether I want to ride.

Shall I decide where to go while riding? ok.

There, that wasn't so difficult, was it?

Lingering problems

Oct distance: 123 km

Mandai, 38 km. I head back to dog territory, to ride up that hill I'd run up five weeks ago. I ask a jogger stretching at the entrance of the park connector. He says there are no dogs, just monkeys.

On that narrow road, with jungle on either side, I'd have nowhere to go if dog shoots out from the undergrowth; I won't be able to, uh, side step it.

No dogs, just monkeys. One of them monkeys about with a big yellow plastic bag.

Up the hill I go, which I ran up a month ago for my ultramarathon. I survey the scene below me, which includes a cat-shaped kite which flies itself (it is tethered to the ground, with no kite-flyer in sight) and people flying real life parakeets.

I thought my legs were ok after a month of rest, but no. They acted up when i did an easy hour-long run. And they hurt today on my ride. Time to get my legs repaired!

Dodging dog

Seeing red in the grey sky

Mandai, 33 km. After the rain stops, I start. Up the slopes where I ran weeks ago, to where the black dog lurks. My feet on my pedals, my heart in my mouth, I charge down the road, eyes peeled for black death lunging at me. It is neither seen nor heard.

The evening sky brightens with a flash. Lighting. I cycle up the highest point of a hill, as lighting flashes in the distance while dark clouds hang over my head. I survey the scene below me, then hurtle down, past black dog's turf. Well, I hope you're gone for good.

I headed out when the rain stopped, but feathery drops brush my face now. The road is wet on the return leg. So it rained while I was away. Great. I'm coming down with a cold, so please don't drench me. I'm not in the mood for it.