June 28th

June 28, 2021

the bank and the bank

My chief birthday gift was a piece of early 1960's pottery - something I collect. Most of it is obtained from eBay's UK site and my friend Dave sorts that out via his account because many sellers don't accept overseas bidders. Weird. This means I owe Dave some cash, so today it's a case of heading to a downtown bank and wiring the appropriate funds, then the plan is to ride along the river bank.

The weather's acceptable for the end of June. We'll see where I end up.

Stopped at a red light, I notice a large grasshopper on the edge of the road. It's about three inches long and its head reminds me of what aliens look like in movies. It isn't moving much, but there doesn't appear to be any damage to its spindly legs and it's easy to get close and take a snap of the bright green thing.

Inside the bank is a guy in his twenties who's sat waiting to be served and the back of his T-shirt advertises a 2013 Taiwanese documentary titled 'Beyond Beauty: Taiwan From Above'. Its director - Chi Po-lin - sadly died while filming a sequel when the helicopter he was using for filming crashed. You really should search for it on YouTube, as it's a like the name says - beautiful, and informative, but also sad.

It only takes 10 minutes to do the bank transfer and it's just another five to get on the Laojie River cycle path. It's fairly new and purpose-made and is constantly being extended. The initial section is concrete, but then there's a canter-levered stretch made with 3-inch-wide wooden planks that rattle slightly as my wheels roll along and the noise reminds me of a train trundling down the tracks.

I pause when I spot a rusty stool outside a home and take a snap. A man walking by notices me and from the quizzical expression on his face, he clearly doesn't understand what I see in it.

It's surprising - to me, anyway - that none of the riverside homes take advantage of their location. In towns and cities in other countries, the backs of houses in such nice spots would likely have picture windows and balconies.

The river has been cleaned up - it used to be quite polluted - but there's still a bit of a whiff to it where it splashes over small weirs.

Homes and metal-clad industrial units get fewer and further apart and eventually the cycle path starts to run past tress and a park and then passes the southern edge of town and reaches proper countryside.

The wind is keeping me cooler than I'd otherwise be, but it's a bit of a killer. It's good to have it in my face, as it's always a pain when you're riding home, feeling a bit tired, and having to deal with it head-on then. It reminds me of when I used to go out on Sunday club rides back in the early 1980s. Each week there'd be a different leader, but invariable the route would start by us riding into the wind, so we'd enjoy a tailwind coming home.

I get to a footbridge and ride over and notice waterlilies growing in a riverside area. The colours range from delicate pink to vivid purple and I flick down the kickstand on my bike and slightly lean over the edge of the path to take a few snaps. Then there's a strange splash and I turn around to see my bike upside down in the murky water, with bubbles emanating from the submersed saddlebag. The wind has obviously blown it over.

Thankfully it's not too deep and it's easy to drag it out. The canvas saddlebag is full, but fortunately there's nothing in it that could be damaged and somehow my bar-bag didn't get wet, and the various contents stayed put thanks to the zipper being mostly done up. The leather Brooks seat is soaked, but in this strong wind and warm sunshine, it seems like it'll dry out pretty fast.

It takes a few minutes to sort out what wet items needs to discarded and there's a small temple nearby and some plastic bags get thrown in a bin there as they're doused in muddy water. A Guinness bar towel that serves as something to wipe away sweat was draped over my handlebars and got thoroughly drenched, but apart from that it seems I got off lightly.

The cycle path ends at the temple because there's a large intersection to contend with, but some large concrete stepping stones in the shape of pentagons have been recently positioned across a shallow section of the river and instead of riding over the adjacent bridge, my bike gets lugged down some steps and across them. This semi-urban ride is turning into something of an adventure.

The cycle path carries on beside the river, but not straight away. There's a short section of road to ride along and a turning to take. It's just that I can't recall where the turning is. I venture down a couple of streets and eventually get lost.

About five minutes later I'm back where I started, so head back towards the intersection and then find the side street leading to the riverside path.

As before, there's only me cycling along and the wind is still blowing strongly and restricting my speed.

The cycle path takes me onto what you'd call back lanes, ones that farmers use to access their fields. They're just wide enough for one vehicle.

There's a road to cross and I know there's a stiff uphill section that lasts for just 50m, and that there's a small canal-side bike path that's accessible from it. I pedal away up the incline in a low gear, but fail to see the small turning. Weird. It's probably a couple of years since I was last here, so think to myself that it must be further than I remember and just keep on riding. However, after a few minutes it occurs to me that I must have somehow missed it.

Today's ride doesn't have a fixed route and instead of doubling back to find it, I keep on going.

After cycling along a few urban streets, there's a busy road and sign saying Route 73 is ahead. This rings a bell - kind of.

There's a choice of several convenience stores to choose from and after a couple of blocks an 85°C coffee shop appears and that's where I opt to take a break. Obviously there's no indoor service, so my drink is enjoyed while sat on a step just in front of the place.

A minute after setting off, I pass Puxin train station. This is a big surprise. Oh dear.

It's about 20 years since I was outside this train station. Back then, a couple of the students from a company class would drive here and pick me up, then take me to their place of work. It seems odd to be back here.

The area has changed quite a bit and it seems best to follow the signs for Route 73, with me being unsure which direction to go heading, but reasoning that sooner or later some place will look familiar and I'll get my bearings again.

The start of what looks like a bicycle path appears across the busy road, so after doing a quick U-turn, I head down it to see where it goes. Just a few metres down it it becomes clear - I'm back where I was 20-odd minutes ago... right where me bearings were lost.

It's going to be a case of just retracing my tracks now and the strong wind is at my back, blowing me along. The sun comes and goes and the sky has a lot of cloud.

I don't stop much because the view is obviously the same as when my wheels rolled this way a few hours ago. However, there's one long section of path that I didn't snap earlier and a raised rice paddy offers an elevated spot to set up the tripod to try and include the adjacent river. The tripod's legs get fully extended and with the wind so strong that it's is wise to lean it into the wind a little, with one leg being slightly lower.

The camera's programmable timer is now set to 20 seconds to take four shots, so one should be OK. When I ride back to collect the kit, a gust blows the tripod over and the camera lands on the floor. What a day.

The tilting screen on the camera no longer sits neatly against the body and I stick it back in its bag and ride towards town and home.

Another length of path has concrete telegraph posts spaced along it and these have holes about 20mm in diameter running through them - maybe for steel rods to act as a ladder (?) - which is just enough to accept the smallest section of my tripod's leg. I wedge it into a hole about 2m high and capture myself riding away from the camera. As I go back to pack things away, another gust blows my cotton cap off my head, over the low wall and onto the road. A car then runs over it. Jeez.

The path leads me back into town. A bite to eat appeals as lunch wasn't much and it's now gone 3:00 and my energy is low. Fries should do the trick.

Coffee Ale from Korea -- I'll try anything once

The train station is on the way home and I ask at a ticket booth if seats have to be booked on trains, as there was news recently saying that tickets had to be booked 30 minutes before departure. The woman tells me tickets for local trains can be bought just before, so that's good news. It's possible tomorrow I'll get one south and do a ride back north.

Fifteen minutes later I'm back on my block and need another cold drink so pop into the local convenience store and cans of IPA have magically reappeared. I buy two, plus a Korean brew that's 'Coffee Ale' and drink my cold lemon down on the way to my place.

The online news is positive, with the COVID case count the lowest it's been for a while. Maybe next month the lockdown will ease.

Today's ride: 35 km (22 miles)
Total: 354 km (220 miles)

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