Rides | Beyond 1200

My Coldest Ride Ever

On Tuesday morning I went on the coldest ride I have ever done, at the point where I finally gave up and headed home I was actually feeling a bit scared. So how did I get into this mess?

Not So Good Preparation

Continuing with my efforts to make myself weather-proof I went to the motorbike store to buy a set of waterproof jacket plus pants. Not really suitable for warm weather as they hold the heat in too much I figured they would do well while the weather is cold and wet. If I need something different when it gets warmer, I’ll deal with that when it comes.

Now, with my waterproof gear in hand I feel like the king of the world, ready to tackle any kind of weather head on. Nothing can stop me.

So in the early morning I put on my short-sleeved cycling shirt, arm warmers, short cycling pants, the waterproof stuff and my shoes and socks.

Fenders Help, to a degree

I figured that my new fenders would keep so much water off my shoes that they would not get wet.

Of course if there is no more spray from the road, everything will remain dry.

Well, not quite.

The fenders help to keep the grit and grime from the road off yourself and the bike. And they do this amazingly well. Even at the end of the ride when I washed the bike off there was almost no grit on anything. The best part was that although the chain was wet, it was not dirty, which is a definite plus for longevity.

Anyhow, my shoes were not waterproof and with just the rain on them, they were soaked within an hour. But I’m used to that so no big deal.

Danshui then Bailaka Rd.

So off to Danshui. The ride was pleasant enough, just the usual slog through the city.

Follow the No. 2 then after a bit of an uphill, right onto the 101. Even at this time of the night there were a few cars around on this road that seems like it should be quiet. It’s probably worth noting that this is likely because many people live around the Danshui area, where property is cheaper and there is access to the end of the subway system.

Some gentle climbing and finally the right turn onto the 101A.

Shiver

I had estimated that this section of road would be pretty well maintained and in good shape for taking a ride all the way to the top.

And it turned out that I was almost right. With no cars and a well maintained road surface the climb was proceeding at a decent pace, although I couldn’t tell how fast I was going, just a decent pace for a long and easy-paced ride.

Slowly but surely the lights starting becoming further and further apart. The faint glow of the next one around the corner being the only sign of anything ahead. Until there were no more. Absolutely none. Except for the odd one lighting the entrance to a house where the occupants had long ago gone to sleep with a fluffy, cozy pillow and duvet to keep them snug.

Always Check the Batteries

So as I’m slogging up the climb and the lights have gone out I’m following the faint glow of my light, which I only then realize I forgot to change the batteries.

But remember, I was prepared, and feeling like superman, so I pressed on.

Until my light was almost gone. Nothing, nada, the moon through the clouds giving more light than the tiny glow of the three LEDs.

The Freeze

But the dim light by itself might not have dissuaded me from continuing, except that the temperature had dropped. A lot.

My toes were going numb, although they could still move, they were very cold.

My fingers were freezing.

Even my body inside the waterproof jacket was getting cold.

After passing under the archway on the way up I was hit by a strong wind that just shattered all my hope of getting over the top and gave me a deep sense of worry for my own safety.

So I turned around.

On the way down it was so cold and my light was so dim I couldn’t maintain more than 10km/h at the absolute max, probably less than 5km/h actually.

The Temple

I had to seek refuge. Too cold and too slow to continue I decided I needed somewhere to wait for sunrise and make a quick decent down the mountain.

So when I next caught a glimpse of a light on the way down I took my chance, with everything on my body losing heat I decided that this would be my refuge.

I climbed the three short sets of white steps to the entrance, parked my bike under the cover then proceeded to keep myself warm.

I removed my shoes and socks because they were colder in there than when they weren’t. Later on I found some gumboots around the back that I borrowed to try keep my feet warm.

I pulled my arms into the jacket and slipped my hands under my armpits. I pulled the jacket as far up my head as it would go, sat down on the ground with my back against the wall. And waited.

For three hours.

I napped four times during those three hours. Trying to keep as warm as possible, but shivering most of the time.

Just me and the continuous groan of the recording of monks chanting the “amitofo” song. And the view of the area of lit road by the bottom of the stairs. And the buddha looking staring at me from the back.

The Sun

Finally, the light through the mist signaled my departure and I put on my cold socks and shoes and headed down the mountain as quick as I could.

I took two breaks to breath warm air onto my fingers which were getting frozen enough to hurt. But once back to the 101 it was just quite cold and wet.

Lesson Learned… Hopefully

At the end of it all I thought I was well prepared, but I wasn’t.

I didn’t have enough warm clothes. I didn’t have enough waterproof stuff, namely good gloves and waterproof shoe covers.

And I don’t have a good enough light. Which is where my focus is going to fall next.

Pinglin, Shuangxi and Pingxi

Mist over Pingxi

Took a very long ride through the quieter roads out of Taipei. 100km with 3 peaks of 400m and two 600m.

Shijhr to Shenkeng

The first peak is on the 109 leading from the Academia Sinica near Nangang, weaving up the hill, then dropping to Shenkeng on the other side. The road is wide and well-paved all the way up. There’s not much to see, but it is well lit at night and there are not many cars, even at at rush hours. The quick descent down the other side is best tackled heading in wide and keeping off the brakes, the corners are tight, but not so tight that you’ll need to slow down much.

Once down the other side, take a left and then the first right, over the bridge to the other side. Then head left on the 106B. Continue until you pass under the freeway then head right.

The 106B and Shrding

The set of convenience stores just ahead are the last you’ll see for 20 or 30km so get anything you need before heading up the right fork in the road.

There’s a short section after the convenience stores without houses. When you see houses again you’ll hit a fork in the road, take the left fork, even though it looks smaller than the right. There are no more intersections until Pinglin. From this point on you’re climbing for a while, quite a long while. The first half of the climbing section is under the faint, orange light that lights the freeway above. Although the road itself is lit, lights become sparse towards the peak. The university on this hill has meant the roads have been improved, which my colleague told me were very small only 10 years ago.

There are good views from the top which I was unable to capture (night + bad camera).

Heading down the other side they obviously ran out of money because the road is narrow, with many sections under repair. There are almost no lights, but also no traffic. Take it easy down this part, especially the sections which are not wide enough for even two cars.

Pinglin to Shuangxi

At the bottom you are pretty close to Pinglin, which is apparently a fairly decent place to go visit. There’s also a 7-11 there if you need anything. Head right if you want to take a look, but to continue the ride, head left.

This stretch of road is one of those beautifully untouched roads around Taipei. There are few cars. To the left are the hills, dotted with tea fields and the occasional temple or two. To the right the hills stretch down to the valley below, covered in a eary mist that gently rests on the river at the bottom. There were absolutely no cars between here and Shuangxi at the other end, so approximately 30km without any cars or signs of life whatsoever, apart from the occasional dog barking (not chasing) or bird singing in the trees. At two points there are roads that head directly over the hills to the North that connect with the 106, taking either of those gives a shorter option if pressed for time.

For the longest option, just continue on the lower road.

The road winds slowly upward along the contour of the hill. The whole road is lined with trees and views of the green lush hills to every side. Only a stone’s throw from the hustle and bustle of the big city you can be surrounded by the relatively untouched beauty of Taiwan’s countryside.

The 106

Unfortunately the road comes to an end and two options are available, with very different lengths. I took the shorter which goes left back to the 106 through a 2km tunnel. The 106 is quite nice, but a bit of a shock with very many more cars. This bridge was obviously there a bit before the one I was riding on.

At the other side is a tranquil pool. Anyone for a swim?

But coming up was the final, short and steep climb back to the Shijhr side of the mountains.

Dingnan Road

The final road is almost abandoned. It looks like it’s only used by people who live on the hill. It’s very peaceful and extremely close to Shijhr. Actually if you’re looking for a super-steep hill, this is one that’s hard to beat. Once at the top there is a turnoff to the right that makes a mad climb which I use the granny gear on my MTB to get up.

You’ll pass a temple with some nasty dogs to keep you moving fast. They don’t sound friendly.

Just beyond that there’s a lookout spot with great view of Taipei.

Take the first left and you’re on a downhill that will definitely test your brakes. My discs brakes get to the point where they sound like they’re glazing over only this section, be careful.

Once back in the big city just head on home.

And start dreaming about the next trip out.

Taiwan North Coast Cruising

The North Coast is rewarding ride around the north coast of the island. Easily reachable from Taipei or Keelung, and making a nice loop if wanted it offers sea views and quietish roads.

I start this ride in Sijhir and head west through Donghu then on to Shilin and Danshui. The first section from my house to there is the usual city stuff, but in the morning it is quiet enough. The roads are still busy as there are very few alternative routes when travelling to Danshui from the city.

Sometime before Danshui the No. 2 heads off Northwards over a few rolling hills, nothing very steep. These can be avoided by instead continuing to Danshui and sticking to the coast more, however Danshui is fairly busy most of the time. The last time I tried this alternative and stuck to the coast I got slightly lost, but managed to find my way back to the No. 2 in the end, just head northish.

The road continues with only slight rolling hills, there’s usually very little wind and when summer comes around that little wind would certainly be appreciated. It’s at this part where you will start to see the groups of university students out on their scooters. Unlike the middle Taiwan scooter hooligans, these groups are mostly guys on their scooters with their girlfriends on the back. There’s a good chance you will bump into the same groups a few times as they pass ahead, stop to enjoy a site where you’ll pass them, and then they’ll pass you later as you continue onward. I’ve managed a maximum of three leapfrogs in this manner.

When you hit the most Northern part you can see the sea, which, after being stuck in the city, is nice in itself. There is an area for kite-flying, or so is depicted on the large painting on the wall holding back the mountain and landslides. There’s a large rock with a big hole in the middle that I noticed for the first time on this ride, I’ll take a picture next time.

The riding from here is pleasant until you read Wanli.

The section from Wanli to Taipei is not very nice. There are lots of cars, lots of motorbikes and would be considered only slightly more pleasant than inner-city riding. Weekends might be different, but during the morning rush it’s pretty busy. There is an alternative, which I’ve read is really good, to go over the mountain from Wanli to Sijhir which I’ve never tried, but could save you the headache of going through Keelung. I at least know the last part of that alternative is a really quite road for the most part.

This is certainly my favorite metric-century ride and is a nice loop. Nice views, pleasant weather and generally flat riding.

Here’s a map of the ride.

View Ride (102 km) – Taiwan North Coast in a larger map

Peace in the Dark

There’s something wonderfully refreshing about the dark.

I’m not talking that semi-dark in the city, where the distant glow of street lights are always visible, and the glaring stare of an LED is always close at hand.

Pitch black. Just you and the glow of the moon.

That’s how my ride on Tuesday morning was. It was dark, cold, wet, and fantastic.

Headed out just before midnight in a soft drizzle that would later turn into fully-fledged, taking a shower sized rain. I half-expected the rain to go away, that stupid hope that makes no sense and is simply used as a way of lying to myself when I don’t want to face facts. Surprise, surprise when it came pelting down and soaked through all my clothing. The only difference between the ride and going swimming being that faint warmth of stored up sweat soaking into my clothing, feebly trying to ward off the cold as the rain continually tried to push in the cold from the outside.

After an hour and a half of riding the remnants of the city started to fade away. Cars became fewer and those still on the road were clearly out with a purpose, because what other reason would there be for being out there. Street lights were spread further and further apart, their faint glow providing the guiding light to the next faint glow until, finally, the light from one was not even enough to light my way until the next.

And finally, no more.

Just me and the faint glow of my bike light. The bike light that is intended to alert other drivers to my presence, but not to cast a significant beam onto the road. In this case it was just enough to light up cateyes in the middle of the road and the warning beacons at the side for up to five meters ahead.

At first I was nervous and a little scared not having the usual lights to govern my way and warn me of anything coming up. It was like riding by touch, and although I didn’t want to touch anything my movements were governed by the proximity of those few indicators of going completely off track. Half the time was spent almost in the middle of the road, where the threat of running into a cateye beat the threat of running off the road.

The small beam of light was a tunnel trying weakly to break through the darkness ahead. And failing miserably. But it was enough and I adapted. Keeping straight with precious few visual queues, and using the little light available managed to guide myself and my bike along windy roads, long straights and finally over to the top of the mountain where the glow of the lights below were there to provide that sense of safety I’m so accustomed to.

Light.