Time Out for Training: Preemptive Cycling on the 136

As a cyclist and as a lifelong athlete, I must first admit that I am addicted to improvement. I love seeing the results of hard work pay off in the form of surprise. Maybe I am simply addicted to surprise-- the satisfaction of reflecting back on a moment when I could say, "wow!"

As a right brained individual, sometimes the focus on the bigger picture overshadows the details and organization needed to achieve those grand mountaintop moments.

Before cycling, I was a wrestler (and a pretty good one at that), and I did regular weight training that, in as twisted a way as possible, sought to maximize strength while limiting mass and its associated weight.  The result was a 54kg frame benching 7x7 at 110kg. If, for any purpose at all, to win any battle of schoolyard one-upmanship with the "well, how much can you bench" argument.

With weight training, if you can lift X weight, you then reach for another iron plate and see if you can lift more. Once one numeric goal is satisfied, there is always another kg to lift.

With cycling, this is not always the case.

Sometimes you need to make the conscious decision to do less if you want to do more.

After two weekends in a row filled with some pretty intense riding, and no training rides between, I decided the next best step would be to pull back in the name of my overall health and work on a more targeted approach to my training regimen.

With unstable weather haunting Taichung, a short morning ride up the Route 136 made perfect sense.

My goal was to work on quick, sustained attacks on the steeper sections, as well as managing my muscles for recovery.

This was a different approach than simply adding another punishing, gargantuan ride to top my last one. I would not be stacking another plate on the bar.

In the past I have pushed myself to tackle longer, greater and harder climbs in succession, and the results were predictable. Over use injuries. My hip flexors and hamstrings could not keep up.

Now I am doing more pre-ride exercises as well as planning my rides with my long-term health in mind.

As I approached the hills, a light mist turned to a drizzle and I used the weather as an excuse to add a little needed coffee to my energy stores.






Soon the rain drifted away and the hills were cloaked in a thin veil of fog.

The lead up was much easier than I remembered. I spun at a pretty good clip to the point I had to remember it was an incline.



What makes the Route 136 such an ideal route for winter hill training, is that it is not only close to Taichung in case the weather turns sour, but it also offers up a variety of ramps and grades that a rider can use to best tailor to a workout.

I burned too many matches on a fierce attack on the lower section, and thus found it ironically amusing to find myself passing a statue of a lone digit sticking up from a driveway.

In essence, the 136 was giving me the finger.



 I finally found my legs again and scrambled to the top where a few other riders were regrouping or waiting for their fallen comrades who had dismounted somewhere below.



For what had started out as a messy morning, the weather had greatly improved with clear skies over the hills and most of the nasty drizzle sweeping over some friends  riding Baguashan to the south.






Last week my climbing was pretty solid for a day of medium ramps; or as solid as I could hope to ride considering my year of setbacks.


This week the legs, still pretty tired from Sanlinxi, fared much worse of the opening grade not far beyond the Bat Cave. If lastweek had been a smoldering slow burn, this week the glycogen in by legs had been replaced with nitroglycerin. Once I lit the match on the ascent, there was a sudden burst of power... and then an eerie silence.



This getting my climbing form back is going to take some time.

The great thing was to be sitting at the top of the Route 136 basking in the warm sunlight on a brilliant morning in mid-January.

I sat up there for a while looking at riders come and go. Couples arrived on scooters to take pictures and then disappear over the ridge. The only thing that really spoils the place is all of the trash left by fellow visitors. It is one of the worst parts about riding a road that is so popular with so many local cyclists. You have to deal with their temporary personal monuments of plastic, paper and other consumer materials.

As I launched myself back toward home, I kept trying to remind myself that I had not wasted a sunny riding day on a little jaunt up the 136 instead of a trophy ride into newer, further areas. When the sun is out, it is best to use it.

Sometimes a little training ride can offer just a taste of the exotic.

Sanlinxi: A Punishing Ride Up One Of Central Taiwan's Less Storied Climbs

As far as the reductionism of bicycle writing on Taiwan goes, there are about three mentionable rides in the country: The Sun Moon Lake Tourism Ride, The East Coast Bike Trails and the thigh popping ride to Wuling Pass.

At least these are the rides that regularly make it into the self-agrandizingTaiwan Tourism ad copy or other more prolific publications than this one.

Aside from the Sun Moon Lake tourist trap, the other two are nice and even challenging rides. A ride over Wuling from either side of Taiwan is a downright spectacular and humbling experience for even the most seasoned rider.

Still, regular readers of this blog may already know that there are some other rides in the area that stand out for their challenging terrain and stunning natural beauty.

The ride up to the 1710m (5610ft) summit of the Sanlinxi tea farming area surely counts as one of the area's most spectacular and rewarding climbs. It requires some climbing fitness and a bit of preparation, but it can, on a good day, offer some outstanding views from the cedar-lined roads of the Nantou Rte. 151.



After a successful weekend of back to back standard century rides along the flat plains of Taiwan, I wanted to keep the ball rolling on my slow climb back into shape with another challenge to push my limits.

I figured the best way to figure out exactly how far I have fallen, was to climb upward toward the clouds.

I sent a message to Dom that I was interested in a ride from Taichung to Sanlinxi and back, covering over 160km (100mi) round trip. Dom was up on the idea to tackle a climb he had planned to attack on some drizzly weekend when the rest of us balked at the weather. He had still not made it up to the summit and it was a good opportunity for both of us to get something done.

I have made the trip a couple of times and aborted an attempt a few months back. The weather looked promising and so the die was cast.

At 7:00am on a sunny January morning we pointed our handlebars toward the mountains of Nantou. 

I would also like to apologize for not charging my camera battery and thus having to resort to the limited optics courtesy of my phone. Sorry.  

The ride was a perfect example of dressing appropriately for Taiwan's winters. We must have stopped to strip something off or put something on no fewer than four time along the way.

A bright winter sun lit the way to Lugu and made the possibility of a successful ride to the top of Sanlinxi even better.



One thing to always remember is that the climate in the hills and in the mountains may be completely different. Taiwan's weather is notoriously unpredictable, as several friends were reminded on Sunday as they found rain on their ride, while we found sunny skies just a few kilometers away. The mountains above Lugu are even more unpredictable as they are high enough to hold onto some of the moisture blowing in from eastern Taiwan to create a rain shadow effect. Often, while the lowlands and foothills are shimmering in sunlight, the tops of the mountains are blanketed in a chilling fog. It is precisely the reason the areas around Sanlinxi and Lugu are revered for their production of high quality teas.


Each time I have made it to the top of Sanlinxi I have found myself meandering through the icy mists within the belly of a cloud bank.  

The initial climb to Lugu seemed to pass by pretty quickly. For some inexplicable reason, the usual lines of tourist coaches, luxury sedans, and college students romancing their way up to Sitou on scooters were absent. It made for a comfortable ride up to the beginning of the Sanlinxi Rd.





The road starts out with an easy series of lazy ramps that roll along making for a fine place to tune the legs for some good climbing.





The mountain loomed overhead in the gaps between cedars. It was soon time to layer back up as a cloud had wrapped itself around the top of the mountain again. Out came the windbreakers, leg warmers and fingered gloves.



As the grade continued skyward our pace slowed due to the fatigue of simply fighting gravity, and also due to the increasing distance we were logging as we fought for every inch of ground gained our pursuit of altitude.




A look down the valley simply affirmed our hunch that we were making some progress up the mountain.



On the climb, there are twelve major switchbacks along the road. Each corner is named after a zodiac animal. Some fool also thought it would be fun to include kilometer markers on the signs to tell you exactly how far you have remaining before Sanlinxi.

The kilometers drop from the sign painfully slow, merely adding to the creaks of futility and despair screaming from the legs.




While I stopped to take some pictures Dom pulled out of sight as another wall of vapor slid across the road. 



The scenery is simply amazing. There are reds of cedar, greens and yellows of bamboo, whites and grays of the clouds and the blues of the sky. 



After a few punishing ramps, the road evens out as it jumps around to the other side of the ridge and into the clouds pushing up against the back of the mountain. As shadows take form out of the fog, the area is filled with a type of quiet best enjoyed from the saddle of a bicycle. Even the occasional car seemed to pull from the fog in complete silence. 



The road peaks at the 1710m summit where the Route 49 launches like a garbage chute back down to Zhushan. 



Around the corner a moderate descent takes hold and guides the bike down toward the tea fields and tourist shacks of Sanlinxi. The terraced tea fields are quite literally carved into the forested slope. 






As I looked back over the ridge we had just pulled ourselves across, I could see a huge yellow scar on the slope where a tea field hand given way and fallen into the valley below. It was obviously a huge financial loss for the farmers who rely on those fields.... but a stellar victory for nature. 



We passed through the tunnel to Sanlinxi and stopped for a break. 



Without much to see besides mist, we lingered long enough to feel as though we had made it to Sanlinxi and then we turned around as our legs cooled off in the chill. We still had another 55km to ride on the return trip and letting the legs rest too long can be a disaster as they may not start back up again.  




We took a few final looks at the area before letting gravity do the work of taking us off the mountain. A few spots on the road rattled my eyes in their sockets to the point of effective blindness, but you can't beat the feeling in the gut of a speedy descent. 



We refueled in Lugu and plugged for home. 

We hit a good string of green lights that helped with the momentum, but the speed and cross-headwind was really taking its toll on me. My 150km I was getting tired. By 165km I was missing the top range of my cruising speed. By 172km I was cooked. Dom did a phenomenal job pulling me home along the Highway 3. 


I felt like this was a huge improvement over the prior week with my fitness coming back up for longer periods of time. Last week I was worn out after 150km of flats. This week was the same, but I had endured 2182m of altitude gain for the day. 

I feel like I am making gains to get back to somewhere near where I once was. 

Oh, and there is a Sanlinxi race coming up this March, so I was happy to use this trip to conduct a little scouting of the course. I feel much better about getting there come race day. 

Hot and Cold: The Last Ride of 2012

With a four day weekend in observation of the "American New Year" holiday (If you don't like that, then replace the term Chinese New Year with Lunar New Year... grrrr!), I had a little time to join the folks at T-Mosaic for their annual Taichung to Kenting ride. 

Each year I have had to give it a miss due to work or other obligations. This time I was all ready to go. 

Usually, I ride with smaller groups or by myself. It gives you a little more flexibility to plan and change plans as the situation dictates. On the other side of the coin, traveling with a larger, organized group allows for someone else to make all the necessary arrangements with lodging, food and support services. I wasn't burdened under the weight of a pack full of "what-ifs". Aside from the logistics planning, Mosaic provided a support van and support scooter linked by radio to help us smoothly negotiate our route and provide traffic control where we needed it. It was a welcome change from my usual battle against the elements; both natural and manmade. 

The latest weather reports had a storm-front moving in with a strong wind advisory and a chance of cold, rainy weather.

We all gathered at T-Mosaic dressed for a cutting wind and a biting chill. Riders were practically mummified in weather protection.



As the white sunlight baked us like buttered croissants, the team quickly stripped off any unnecessary clothing and threw it in the back of the support van to enjoy the rest of the morning in relative comfort.



The ride was to be a two-day event covering the approximately 320km (200mi) between Taichung and  the Ouluanpi Lighthouse in Kenting. A couple years ago this would have been a training ride without any mountains to climb or times to beat. This year, I have seen my training time drop from three or four rides per week, to three or four rides per month. I was a little worried how I might fare on back to back centuries. My last century was back in early November and I had hardly done much riding since. There were a couple of weeks where I missed riding completely. Not exactly a recipe for success. I feel as though I still have the muscle, but not the gas to do the really big rides.

As I pedaled at an even pace with Dom, an excellent rider and friend, I kept wondering in the back of my mind how long I could keep it up.

With the wind against our backs I was enjoying a bit of speed through the flats of Changhua.



As we neared the town of Hsiluo, I had been excited to cross the Great Hsiluo Bridge. It is always a thrill, and as a route advisor for this trip, I hoped to take the team across the bridge for a fuel stop in Hsiluo before picking up the gloriously expedient Route 145.



One thing about riding with T-Mosaic is that they ride some really nice bikes, some on the highest edge of the price scale (Mr. Wang, I am talking about you). There is always lots of interesting cycling opinions represented in molded carbon, lugged steel, titanium and aluminum. For this group, Campy still holds sway.



We topped off the tank and then spun a brisk pace toward the former agricultural hub of Huwei.



The whole area has a rural flavor. This former stronghold of Hoanya indigenes has become, in effect, Taiwan's heartland, where farming and folk traditions still resonate with the locals.



This is the Iowa of Taiwan. Kilometer after flat kilometer pass by fields and farms. The whole area reeks of pig shit, but there is little traffic and even fewer traffic lights compared with more popular roads. It is easy to simply put the legs into cruise control and eat up the kilometers between jokes, stories and opinions that flow as freely as a bike on an empty stretch of asphalt.



Around Tuku we left the wider Route 145, in favor of the spaghetti-like strand of the 145甲.



The 145甲 is a lot of fun, if you have the time and patience to follow its curves through the hidden lanes and fields of Taiwan's farm country. Often, I am simply trying to get from one place to another and I don't go out of my way to enjoy these little gems. I have to admit, it really made the ride a bit more interesting. When you lave the luxury of time and the legs to risk a wrong turn or two, this is a nice little route.



Our group stretched out into the sunlight as we all settled into our comfortable speeds, while trying to do our best to pull or draft one another. With so little distance in my legs this year, I was happy to avoid much pulling.



The 145甲 becomes the Route 157 and leads to the town of Hsingang; a town most famous for its Mazu temple and the site of the destination for the famous pilgrimage from the sister temple in Dajia, near Taichung.



It was also time to eat again, so we loaded up on duck noodle soup.



Not too much further down the road, Cash, our scooter support driver, pulled us off the road to wait for some of the other team members who had become delayed and strung out over the route.



You'd have thought the circus had arrived in town. The family of the small grocery all came out to see a group of aliens who had arrived on some type of whirligig that moves when you turn your feet. Before long the children withdrew to make hushed commentary on the foreign devils with our large noses, round eyes and overall barbarian ugliness. Then they tried to bring the neighbors out for a look. It was uncomfortable to say the least. Though, to Taiwan's credit, you have to work your way a lot further out of the city limits to encounter this type of direct objectification. In town the sleights are a lot more subtle. 



Our rest lasted about 15 minutes too long and I was happy to keep my legs warm on the Route 157 to the Route 161.



After a little more meandering about the countryside, we arrived at the coast and the Highway 17. Although coastal highways are supposed to be beautiful, most of Highway 17 is a blight. Luckily we bypassed most of the coastal wasteland that sits to the south of Mailiao and could enjoy the nicer stretch around Budai. 






One real nice thing about riding in Taiwan is the instant community of cyclists. As we curved through an overpass, we met a lone rider who was surveying the scenery. Catherine was from Taipei and she was astride a gorgeous titanium Rikulau. We asked her to join, and she plodded along with us until Beimen. I chatted with Catherine briefly and she was an avid cyclist with a love for titanium bikes. You never know who you'll meet on the roads. 




The afternoon sun beat down on us like hammer blows. I couldn't believe it was the end of December. So much for forecasts. I was happy to have a blazingly hot day in the bag than to have to think about water sloshing between my heel and toe in a steady, chilling drizzle. 



We crossed into Tainan and the day seemed to shift into slow motion. 



We were all pretty beat from the day's ride and it was getting damned near close to dinner time. We hugged the Tainan Route 15 through the golden marshlands near Luer Men; the former sand spit that at one time held the seat of the Dutch colony on Taiwan.

The area is calm and relaxing. We were all eager to take it down a notch and slide into town for some carbs to restock the reserves. 





Our first day had been a magnificent ride through Taiwan's bread basket and I had survived. All evening I sat with an uneasy feeling thinking about having to do it all over again the next day. A one-off century was survivable, but two in a row could be a disaster for me and my out of shape legs. 








After a night of loading up on beer carbs, I was a bit dehydrated for the day ahead. Moreover, like a bad house guest, the foul weather we had been promised had arrived after we had all gone to bed, and was promising to stay several days too long. 



We left Tainan City and were negotiating Kaohsiung City traffic within the hour. It seemed Kaohsiung would never end. The overcast skies made the day seem perpetually morning. As we edged nearer to the outskirts of town,occasional droplets of precipitation would lick across my face and sun glasses. 

The temperatures were also much chillier. It was one of those days when every twenty minutes the body calls out for a pee break in the cold. 



As we stopped at one 7-11 in Fangliao, I noticed the unmistakable concrete torii of a Sinto shrine dating from the 1930's when Taiwan was a Japanese colony. 



The concrete lanterns had been removed; probably sold. But the modernist torii and arced bridge lay intact .



At the end of the road sat one of the most remarkable shrines I have seen in Taiwan. It has just been sitting for all these years, neglected, but largely undisturbed. These shrines and other examples of Japanese colonial legacy can be found scattered all over Taiwan. They are often hidden by the insecurities of more recent colonial projects, but many have failed to be erased completely.




For me, it was the highlight of a day that would get more complicated and less comfortable. 




Just as we left Fangliao a steady rain began to fall. During the entire trip I was at the front of the group with two or three other riders. The faster pace was taking its toll, and the weather was now insulting my family for a thousand generations. 




The usually glistening seascape was a muted swirl of grey and fog. I could barely see through my fogged up lenses. We marched up each rolling hill with a little more ferocity and a little less energy from calories and more coming from pure grit, anger or dread. 



Our plans had changed on account of the weather. Besides, we were tired. Instead of cycling around the Kenting National Park to avoid the throngs of tourists, we decided to just go straight through. 

By Che Cheng, my legs were burning a bit too hot after eating a few rollers, I didn't have much more left in me. 



By the home stretch Dom and I elected to pull back a little bit. After being followed by a car in the bike/scooter lane for a kilometer, I finally pulled off for one last 7-11 pee break and to collect myself for one final attack. 



We threw ourselves against the miserable hills that stair step up to Kenting Street. The rain has soaked me all the way down to my I Just Don't Give A Damn. 

We evaded Kenting Street along a sneaky back road, and with a kilometer to go, were hit by the most savage crosswind. I pulled up without the energy to fight through with my shoulders down. 



With a handful of seconds between us, Dom and I reached Ouluanbi Lighthouse at the perfect moment to get off the bikes. 

Before too long the rest of the riders arrived out of the drizzle and haze. 

We were driven to some nearby showers before being dropped off for eats. We were all tired, soaked and hungry, but we were also happy to have completed our trip. It made getting out of the elements that much sweeter.

 A very memorable end to 2012, indeed. 

Thanks to Rocky, Cash, Hsiao Lan, and the rest of T-Mosaic for making this ride happen. 

Happy New Year!!!!

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