November 6th

November 6, 2023

Over the 7 to Baling

It's a 10km climb up Highway 7 to reach the entrance to the trail that veers southwest

Finding a flat first thing in on a Monday morning is not very nice, but that's what g does. It'll wait half an hour and we have breakfast first - from a buffet in the nearby dining hall where I have three bowls of cereal and a couple of coffees. I'd hoped there would be some fruit to stick in my back pocket, but there isn't. Too bad, as there are no shops around here or on the long climb.

It doesn't take g long to patch his tube, then we spray on some sun cream before riding the few kilometers along the riverside section of Highway 7 before making a left to start riding up the Cross-Island part.

It's supposed to be officially winter here now, but it's hot with a cloudless sky. The weather forecast had said it could rain today. Pull the other one.

It's getting on for nine before we head off

Last night we talked about trying to ride along the 12km or so of trail to the divine tree. We looked at StreetView of the 7 and wondered if we could scale a 4m-tall concrete wall with our bikes to avoid the guarded gate, but that just seems like a bad idea. We also wondered if it's possible the guard could take a break, allowing us to duck under the barrier unnoticed, but that seems unlikely, and g's idea of just trying persuasion doesn't sound realistic. We'll see.

The climb starts straight away from the T junction. The road is practically empty and whenever there is any traffic, it's usually a solitary local riding a scooter or few motorcyclists out on a trip on their big-C.C bikes. You can hear them coming a mile away.

Humidity is very high, it's almost 30°C and my shirt is soaked through and I ride for about 10 minutes before having to pause to cool off and have a drink, while g, some 14 years younger, pedals a bigger gear and moves slightly faster. Neverthless, it's slow going.

The North Cross-Island Highway - Highway 7 - is under continuous repair

It's about 11:30 when we get to the gated entrance of the trail.

Climbing the high concrete wall doesn't look possible with a bike. It's angled at about 60 degrees and the guard's building isn't very far away and there are CCTV cameras everywhere.

There's a workman in a small truck parked in the entrance and I go past to see how alert the guard is. I can hear him talking to someone. The building is elevated about a meter above about the trail and the front window is high enough so that the seated guard can't see us, and vice versa, but who knows what monitors he has in front in him.

It's all academic, as g and I both know that with no food and little drink left, it'd be silly to venture along the gravel trail, even if we could. It's roughly 24km out and back, no doubt going seriously up and down, and it'd likely take us four hours at least. Then we'd need to ride up the 7 to the hotel at the top and we're both pretty tired already. We just keep going.

It takes about an hour more to reach Mingchi Recreation Area, which is run by the organisation that runs Chilan. The staff wear the same unform with LeaLea on the shirts. It's also not cheap to stay the night.

We have a set lunch of noodles. The side dishes are small. After, we go to the cafe-cum-gift shop and get coffees and brownies and sit outside in shade, feeling a bit disappointed that the ride along the trail didn't happen. It was the main point of the trip.

We agree that the only way to get in would be to enter at night and camp somewhere along the trail. I just can't see that happening. Anyway, there are likely sensors and cameras that would detect us.

In our minds, Mingchi is the very top and we now have a long drop to the one-street village of Baling, broken by a short rise, but we continue to climb up long inclines as the 7 weaves around the Central Mountains. Once at what must be the next high point, we don our helmets and light jackets and start whizzing down. It's about 15km of continuous freewheeling, none of it straight.

We have lunch and coffees at Mingchi at around 1:00

Just as we're thinking we're about there, a barrier appears and a row of cars and motorbikes tells us there's going to be a delay. It turns out we have to wait until four o'clock - it's only 2:45.

We sit on some metal stools and chat and wait until the supervisor waves us through before anyone else. We see why soon enough. The route is a wet mess of stone debris from a huge landslide. Workers are securing the mountainside and a long line of vehicles is lined up at the other end, also waiting to get going. No doubt some have been there almost two hours.

It can't be much more that a kilomter or so to Baling, all of it down. We know which of the two hotels we prefer and there's no issue with a room tonight, or ever. It's NT$1,600 - about US$50 - and after a shower, the two fiendly women running the show agree to cook us friend rice and stir-fry some cabbage. There are bottles of Taiwan Beer in the fridge. Life's good.

Our legs feel weak as we take a short stroll along the village's deserted street and look down at a small river from a nearby high bridge. There are lights twinkling up on the mountain sides - remote homes - and we wonder what the people up there do.

It's only gone six when we get back to our modest room. The TV only has a handful local channels, none of which is what you'd call quality televison, and we're drifting off to sleep by 7:00. That's probably a record.

Road block a few km from Baling where we got stuck for over an hour

Today's ride: 65 km (40 miles)
Total: 3,430 km (2,130 miles)

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