March 8, 2022
March 8th
north from Zhubei
Yesterday was miserable: cold and wet, wet, wet. I didn't venture out - not even for a beer and a chat with Ralph, as is customary on Monday nights.
Well, it's a total contrast today. I'm out of bed at 6:30 and the online timetable tells me there's a train heading south just before 9:00 and my plan is to be on it. Zhubei, where I rode to with g and Ralph last week, is my destination. It'll be a nice ride back over a couple of stamina-testing hills.
The sky is wonderfully clear and it looks like summer (again), but there's a chill in the air on the ride to the train station, especially in the shade, and I'm glad to be wearing arm-warmers as well as a light jacket.
There's about 15 minutes before my train pulls in and then another 40 to get south to Zhubei. I reckon a journey of that length in the UK would set you back at least £8, but here in Taiwan it costs me just £2, and that includes having to pay half the seat price for taking my bike. There're not too many people aboard and a seat becomes available after a man gets off at the first stop and I observe that all the passengers are sat using their smartphones, except for the guy directly opposite me. he's about 20 or so and also has a bicycle with him. It's an inexpensive road bike.
Once out Zhubei's elevated station it's gone 9:40 and coffee is required. There's a Louisa not very far away and as it's so nice I sit outside it at one of two small, round tables and tell the young woman who serves me that it's like being in Milan. I order a small quiche to keep me going.
The river is just a five-minute cruise away and after making a turn it's a just case of following it upstream for a few kilometres, pedalling along a wide sidewalk-cum-bicycle path formed with small paving blocks that make it a slightly juddering experience.
I soon reach the array tall apartment blocks that house affluent tech workers which have balcony windows looking out across the river and its broad valley. Being close to what's known as a 'science park', where Taiwan's computer-related companies have plants and R&D centres, this particular enclave of Taiwan has the highest average income in the whole country. The smallest units cost over US$500,000.
I reach an anonymous spot where I have carry my bike up some steps over a concrete flood wall to get to a lane that continues heading east. This is where the ride feels like it actually starts, as there's no traffic or people and I'm now passing farms where rice shoots are standing in murky water.
There's another tall flood wall on my right which blocks the view, but poking above it in the far distance are some high, rounded peaks. I've cycled along the flat top of the wall a couple of times, but there are various obstructions and it becomes annoying having to climb up and down.
The wind is blowing in my face.
Before leaving home I had a quick look at Google Maps and photographed my computer screen to help remind me of where to turn. After riding past flooded paddies, gravel processing plants and under a couple of bridges, I reach a spot where I can see road signs saying that the bridge above is carrying Route 123 and the photos I took at home show it's a good spot to start riding north, so I lug my bike up some steps then ride east along Route 120.
The 120 becomes a wide road and it's not a lot of fun and it occurs to me that maybe I've made a mistake. We'll see. Stopping to look at the photos of Google Maps to get my whereabouts seems like too much trouble.
The 120 is not a road that I can recall cycling along before, but it must eventually lead me somewhere that'll be familiar and sure enough after about 15 minutes there's a junction with a convenience store on a corner and I know I could have taken a quiet route to get here, like I did last time. It's not a big deal.
I buy a cold drink called Pocari Sweat, some chocolate and a banana, then begin cycling north, riding slightly uphill through a sleepy, one-street village, then past various industrial places that don't seem to belong in such a rural locale. There are tall smokestacks and big exposed pipes and ducts protruding from metal clad factories.
The village soon dwindles out and the road gets steeper. It also narrows and there's stillness and its jungle, with the only sound being some exotic birdsong that I can't find the origin of. It sounds like a fusion of a pigeon and a rooster, but its hard to say what the bird could actually look like.
The overhanging trees make it relatively cool, but that's something to be grateful for. In summer this climb can seem brutal. My arm-warmers, helmet and mask come off.
The climb lasts about four or five kilometres and during all this there are a few times I pause to have a drink or take a snap. There's lots of shade making contrast sharp and my self-timed shots don't really work out.
I set up my tripod again one more time near the crest as there's a little break in the trees allowing a view of the peaks that are who knows how miles away and the timer is pre-set to take a few shots after 15 seconds and the first of me cycling by looks the best. Obviously it'd be easier to just stand still. I do that sometimes.
The road twists and turns constantly on the long drop down to the town of Guanxi and it's good no cars are here as it's very narrow and there's a film of slippery moss on the edges and even some running down the middle. This is one of those secret gems of a road that more cyclists should know about and experience. My speed is sensible as age makes you cautious.
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Guanxi attracts tourists for some reason, but I don't see any today as I ride on one of the paths beside the small river that runs through town.
It's a while since I was here - maybe last summer. It was then that I discovered an old, slightly isolated farm house that had been abandoned and I insect it again this time only to find the owner has secured the doors. It's also a surprise to see the roof has been completely renewed, using thin, slightly curved clay tiles, which is something I can't recall anyone doing on a traditional house. People usually use corrugated metal sheeting that looks nasty.
Around the back of the house is a stack of almost black roof tiles that I think date back around 70 years or more. This type of clay tile is thick and they're now covered in moss and look like they've been here for some time.
From Guanxi I cross over Highway 3 and start up route 28. It's quiet, too - another back road that more cyclists should ride along.
Most of my drink has gone. Maybe I should have bought two bottles and while I'm not sweating like a pig, but no doubt I could do with more liquid inside me. There' no cooling wind here and my helmet comes off again and gets hooked over a bar-end.
Taking a self-timed photo that really captures the essence of such a tranquil route is hard. Even decent inclines become nonexistent and the lushness tends to look nothing special. Standard cameras have their work cut out I reckon a drone is needed - something which I don't have. I do stop and take a snap of a furry creature with long claws that's been killed by a vehicle. It's not something I've seen before and it was probably hit not that long ago. Bluebottles are starting to swarm around it.
When I reach a hairpin it seems like this is the best place to take a snap of myself and the tripod gets set up on the edge of the bend and I have a few tries, placing the camera in slightly different spots. The result is OK as at least the angle of the slope is evident.
A young man on a road bike drops down while I put my tripod away.
The descent is fab and fast and brings me out onto a leg of Highway 3, which I ride along for a few minutes before turning off to head towards Longtan, where I was the other day.
My energy level has dropped. Waking up so early plus not eating a lot combine to drain me. The hills are done with though and in fact the're a subtle descent for most of the ride home.
A shell of a house that I salvaged a wooden window from last month is still standing. It looks like nothing has changed and while the roof is off, maybe it was before and I just didn't notice. However, now that the sky is blue and the sun is highlighting the unsawed woodwork, my eyes are drawn to it. I've already checked out all the windows.
The plant shop I sometimes call at is open and I spot a small fern that's not cheap but it's one I've not seen before, so I pay the lady about US$4 and pop it in my bar-bag and head home.
Today's ride: 48 km (30 miles)
Total: 1,590 km (987 miles)
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