Finish Line Comebacks: "Don't call it a comeback I been here for years Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear Makin the tears rain down like a MON-soon Listen to the bass go BOOM Explosion, overpowerin Over the competition, I'm towerin Wreckin shop, when I drop these lyrics that'll make you call the cops Don't you dare stare, you betta move Don't ever compare Me to the rest that'll all get sliced and diced Competition's payin the price"-- L.L. Cool J My riding in 2011 was something I will never forget. I was training four days every week. I was feeling fast. I felt like there was no road in Taiwan that was out of reach. I could cover long distances and the highest climbs on a whim and a little grit. That was 2011. Dust in the wind. I spent my 2012 season training hard at being a new dad. I don't figure on getting the hang of the job any time soon, but at least my little girl is constantly becoming better at being a kid and that makes the job of being a dad incrementally easier. It seems every weekend is the first day of my return to form. Each ride holds the promise of new beginnings or a cleave in the ledge where I may catch my fall from the fitness I used to enjoy. It seemed as though every time I would put two decent rides together, something would happen to put me back to square one; weather, family business, equipment failure, injury, work and all kinds of other black magic conspiring against me. My situation is probably not unlike a lot of my friends out there on the road. This is the curse of the amateur cyclist. We have lives that interfere in our training plans and nobody is paying us to be seen succeeding and standing next to their products. We may ride to live, but we may not be able to live to ride. I am sure my drop in blogging was noticed by more than a few. It is not that I have had nothing to write about. On the contrary I have had too much to write about and no real time to do it well... or even as usual... half-assed. The Comeback: Isn't that what so much of cycling is about? We are always trying to get back to some real or imagined destination that always seems better than where we are now. If I am sitting here at a computer writing this, there must be a better place to be. This post is clearly dedicated to each of my aborted comebacks, announced and unannounced, that litter the past several months of this blog. I swear, this time its for real. A.M. Start Several weeks back I put my money down to participate in the Merida-Maxxis Sanlinxi Challenge; a 38.5km hill climb from Mingjian Township to the tea fields of Sanlinxi. I had done the ride several times from Taichung and figured it would make a great way to get back into more regular participation in some cycling events. For the past several months my training plan had been a shambles. With a month-long vacation for Lunar New Year I figured I could put in some serous training on a four-day schedule to really rebuild. It never happened. I spent two weeks with a chest cold and wrestling with asthma. Then my pedals broke. Then the New Year obligations. I tried a couple of local climbs, but I really didn't do anything worthwhile until mid-February. That gave me four weeks of training to reverse months of neglect. After four weeks of building with some help from Dom, James and a few other riders, I found myself sitting in the middle of a sea of riders in another one of Taiwan's infamous mass-start races. "A lot of guys are dressed pretty fast today", I quipped to the rest of the guys from T-Mosaic. A lot of guys are dressed for speed, but once the bunch starts rolling uphill, the cards are all flat on the table. The horn sounded and it took several minutes to even reach the starting gate. A few of the lucky riders at the front could enjoy a fast, unobstructed start. The rest of us became locked in a bottleneck just outside the gate and were forced to walk our bikes for several more minutes... Ah, the beauty of riding with 2500 other people. I slipped to the outside to leapfrog the slower riders weaving about in the center of the road. I hoped to warm my legs up before climbing up the Route 151 to Lugu Township. It was actually my first time riding the Route 151 to Lugu. I always take the nicer Route 131. I really didn't know what to expect in terms of grades or ramps. I only knew that they looked pretty nasty on the descent. I made further gains as the group smashed head-on into the climb. I felt relaxed and confident as I maintained a line amid weaving wheels looking to shave the edge off the grade. I had prepared for cool weather, as Sanlinxi is always covered in freezing clouds, but it was a surprisingly clear day and I was quick to strip off my arm warmers. As we spilled through Lugu, the easier grade gave me a chance to rest between the 7-11s I had marked for popping my first gel. I felt a little sticky in my legs, but figured it would pass the more I warmed up. Just like every other time I had made the climb to Sanlinxi, my legs were due to come alive when the climbing started. Just before the final 7-11 when the grade gets nasty, I felt something was wrong. My legs were burning up prematurely. It took a minute to figure out what was happening. I was in the midst of an allergy attack. My nose was filling with snot. My eyes watering and the asthma was coming on. I couldn't believe it. "Asthma attack, now!?" I tried to persevere, but finally pulled off the road for a few minutes to pop a Benadryl and break out the inhaler. I watched as all those riders I had climbed over to get to where I was, were streaming up the hill ahead of me. I admit, I really hate having to look at some of the jerseys and relished in putting them behind me. With my eyes red and blurred by the water from a barrage of sneezing, I leaped on the bike and trudged back into the stream. I could barely see. It was like one of those final fight montages from the Rocky franchise. I was seeing Clubber Lang in double and triple, growling at me in slow motion. I heaved and winced as I plodded toward Sitou. I thought about turing back and collecting a DNF. I was a total wreck. With Benadryl in my system it was a race against time before the dehydration and cramping set in. I blew my nose into the palm of my cycling gloves and flung it onto the road. Again and again I grossed out the surrounding riders with repeated handfuls of mucous wringing from my right glove. I am sure I looked to be in much more difficulty than I was in. The turn to Sanlinxi arrived and I decided I would keep going and try to beat the Benadryl in my system. I felt a lot better and my legs were again turning the pedals in fluid circles. I eased into a rhythm and started attacking the inside corners as the ramps edged up into the cedar forests. I was making up time, but not fast enough. I could see the final bend up above before the grade levels off to the peak. My calf had been cramping for a kilometer or two and I was doing my best to wiggle it out without losing momentum. As I rounded the corner prepared to turn on the steam for a push to the finish, I realized the finish line was much closer than I had imagined and in a strangely narrow part of the road, rather than a kilometer or two further down the road where things open up. I did my best to push a couple hard circles on the crank, but there was no space to make a spectacular finish. I arrived at about the same time as my teammate, Dr. Wu, and we decided to continue the two and forever kilometers down the road to the staging area to collect our official times and swag-bags. My official time was 2:12:08. Not too bad for my first race of my current comeback. I came in 255th of over 2500 starters and 124th of my age group. Next year I get to compete in the M40 class. I think I could have shaved several more minutes off the time without the asthma stop. I could have probably shaved a couple-several more minutes off my time with those lost four weeks of training. But isn't that the case with cycling. Just a little more training and a little change of circumstance to make all the difference between this time and next time.
Terry Lin (Caffe Terry) Time: 1:50:12 Watch out, here I come.... Until the next time.
For the past decade there has been plenty of ink spilled and pixels pushed documenting and praising Taiwan's emergence as the world's center for bicycle production. International and domestic publications are quick to mention some of the larger manufacturers that produce high-end bicycles from factory complexes in both Taiwan and China. The focus has been mainly on composite "state of the art" racing bicycles that put a marketing premium on the concepts of "stiffness"and "aggressive" geometries. With Taipei Cycle scheduled for March 20-23, we will undoubtedly be inundated with a barrage of pseudoscientific sales jargon hand crafted by marketing teams with the purpose of selling a technology that is over 100 years old. On the fringe of the exposition at the Nangang Exhibition Hall are several of the smaller players hoping to catch the eye of the discerning brand developer, consumer or enthusiast. At the 2013 Taipei Cycle I would like to direct a little attention toward one little company that is looking to grow and thrive in the gaps of sunshine between the shadows of industry titans through a fine focus on some of the basic elements of what makes a memorable cycling experience. At this year's expo the TYA Bicycle Company will be introducing three new models of their steel framed bicycles that use the 650c sized wheels. TYA Bicycles and its sister company TYALU were founded by Rocky Huang, the owner and operator of T-Mosaic Cycles where I usually have my bikes built, tuned and occasionally repaired. For the past three years or more I have watched TYA move from drawings and basic ideas to a stream of prototype after unpainted prototype. As a regular rider and competitor, Rocky brings his experience on the bike and behind the wrench to TYA design. I have spoken to Rocky on countless occasions on the topics of fit, materials, geometry and design aesthetic. Rocky is not only an experienced rider, but he has studied biomechanics and design, coming to bicycles from the world of advertising. As a cycling enthusiast, Rocky gives a nod to the classic steel bikes from the era of Maertens, De Vlaeminck, and Merckx in the lugged styling and steel tubing of the TYA. These TYA bikes are certainly coming at a great time as Taiwanese riders are becoming more discerning in their choice of bicycle rather than simply choosing the cheapest model from the Giant sales floor or the one with the virtue of being the most expensive. Taiwanese riders are becoming more versed in international cycling culture and are looking for a greater variety of bicycles to fit their needs. It is an interesting phenomenon to watch the cycling culture in Taiwan evolve and mature. The TYA can also hold the distinction and pride of being a bike that wears its Taiwanese roots with pride rather than obscuring its origin through tricky labeling loopholes. The badge is crafted in the shape of two Taiwans in mirror image. The TYA is not an all-out race bike and therefore makes no pretense of being a menace on the crit circuit. Instead the TYA is designed as a balanced road bike, offering lively and comfortable ride characteristics by maximizing the timeless benefits of ChroMo steel. Not every bike needs to win races. Some bikes just have to ride worth a damn. The choice of 650c wheels was aimed at smaller Asian riders who often have trouble finding appropriately sized bikes with 700c wheels. There are other benefits with an increased low range and less rotating weight for climbers. In Taiwan it is often difficult to find a decent steel framed bike in the first place. Very few offerings in the bike shops cater to riders who don't want to race, so this is a refreshing addition to the other available frames. Here at Taiwan in Cycles I have received numerous emails from riders looking for a steel framed tourer or light tourer with the purpose of exploring Taiwan's amazing landscape. There are some models by Surly and Salsa sold through a few select QBP dealers, but it can often take as long as 6 months to receive a bike. TYA is now offering both a Cyclocross/Light Touring frame, and a dedicated touring model complete with rack and fender mounts and cantilever brake bosses. Both of these bikes would be excellent for the rider who would like to cruise the highways or hillsides where the pavement is less regularly repaired if it exists at all. There are still some sections of gravel road in the foothills. These would also make excellent regular commuters. Both bikes bring the durability of steel as well as the ability to mount wider touring tires to better support a bike under load. The cyclocross frame could also be fitted with off-road tires to mix it up off-road. For true classics lovers, the TYA is built with the versatility to support downtube shifters (remember those?). The new line of TYA bikes is a welcome change in a market that is increasingly saturated with composites, and there may be more on offer shortly. According to Rocky Huang at TYA, he is experimenting with both lugged and Tig welded frames. He has options for butted and straight gauge tubing and there may even be a 700c model on the horizon. It is still too early to tell how these ventures will evolve. TYA is offering a build package around each frame set. Details of builds and geometries can be found at the TYA website. TYA also has a sister brand that is trying to fill the gap left in the market for an alloy TT/Tri bike with aero tubing in a similar vein as the popular Cervelo S1. Alloy frames are still excellent for racing but have lost out in the market to the composite frames that allow companies to take advantage of the higher profit margins of composites. TYA and TYALU will have test bikes available at the Nangang Exhibition Hall for riders to try. I highly recommend stopping by the booth at O0035 to pay Rocky and his crew a visit. He has some very interesting things going on and it might be worthwhile to pull yourself away from the plastic toys to remember why steel is still such an amazing material for the modern bicycle. These are bikes developed and created by Taiwanese cycling enthusiasts for riders who share their passion.
This Lunar New Year was supposed to be about four weeks of regular riding to rebuild and return to lost form in the wake of the wonderful life-bomb called parenthood. I was poised to take advantage of a generous vacation package with little weekday rides and longer weekend riding. Four days into my vacation I got sick. It always happens. Just as the stars start to align themselves... WHAM!... back to square one. I spent about a week coughing my lungs clear enough to get back on the bike. Things still weren't coming together. I had to do a couple rehab rides after being sick to wake the legs up a bit more. I messed around in the hills over Taichung for some training, but nothing too far. I was actually becoming moody that my vacation was slipping away without a trophy or monument to show I had done something special with the only valuable commodity I had in any reserve-- time. The posts on my Facebook feed were already streaming in with painfully spectacular updates and pictures of a crisp, gorgeous sunny day on a ride to Wuling that I had to un-invite myself from. Mentally, I was pacing like a caged animal. I was brooding, moody and growling under my breath about my blood pressure being higher than what is normally my normal. I was just really pissed off. Then on the way home from dinner the idea popped into my head to drive the car to Shuili and then bike up to Tatajia on Alishan's eastern flank and then cap the summit before heading back to Shuili. The idea made perfect sense and I quickly and half-assedly made plans for a day of climbing. This spur of the moment rush of inspiration gave me no time to properly prepare for a long climb with the right intake of carbs and liquids. It was also pretty late, so I would be riding on less than ideal sleep. As the notion of the ride edged closer to reality I was feeling the buzz of excitement again. It felt good to be riding with a purpose.
There was no way I could wake up early enough for a pre-dawn launch, so I hoped for the best and hit the road by around 6:30am. I pulled into a sleepy Shuili and thought I would take in a tall cup of black coffee and a few more carbs at the 7-11. I guess I lingered a while as I hit the road closer to 9:00am with leaden legs that were having a difficult time turning over. Climbing is like that. When you start out it feels like there is no way you can ever complete the climb if the first 50 meters of the slightest incline feel like your legs are made of concrete plunging into mud on every pedal stroke. Sometimes it takes a sharp climb to wake the legs up and they're good for the rest of the ride.
As I loped along the Highway 21, I kept looking for the legs to meet me somewhere over the next rise. The road seems relatively flat and the discouraging forward pace on the gradual incline is a real heart breaker. Only on the descent can you fully appreciate that the road is a constant 2%-4% grade. In the morning light the mountains appear to stack up all upon each other as the highway dips and curves in a slow-motion roller coaster ride around old landslides and water hazards. The narrow river valley passes through some small farming villages that seem keen on making more money from tourism than farming. I hadn't taken the highway 21 in several years, so I couldn't remember how far I had to ride before the real climbing started. it seemed the river valley just went on forever. Finally, it seemed I had veered away from simply following the river and I braced for the serious climbing. Oddly enough, once the steeper grades arrived I felt better and more comfortable climbing. I eased up the mountain at an even pace with a few stops to simply document the trip and not the occasional strategic leg-rest-photo-op. On the map the road squiggled all over the hillsides like an anaconda sunning itself on a Taiwanese hillside. On paper it looks much more formidable than it really is. The confusing pile of roadway folded upon itself on the map was really a sensible grade that used each curve and bend to take some of the severity off the skyward ascent to 2600m. (8530ft.) The scenery was spectacular and sheer cliff faces and towering mountains rise from the abyss below. If Wuling is Taiwan's first cycling monument for its incredible height (3275m.) and short distance from sea level, Tatajia is Taiwan's second cycling monument. While the ride to Wuling throws much nastier ramps in front of a rider, its course through mountain farms, cedar forests and alpine meadows has a somewhat friendlier countenance than Tatajia. There is something very severe, stark and raw about Tatajia that is both frightening and compelling. It has a cold ruggedness about the landscape, and a glaring silence as well, that makes a lone rider skirting the cliff's edge feel totally exposed and unteathered to the roadway.
After a succession of tunnels a huge, ugly scar rips across the mountain like nature's own warning sign. The area is strewn with concrete, rubble, rebar and other debris. As I made my approach the entire area was thick with the smell of burning brake oil as drivers overheat their brakes unsure and fearful of the scene of such obvious violence. As a rider I instinctively knew that this was the main event. It had the terrifying look of battle and I brought the fight to each pitch and ramp.
The road looked as if someone had hastily flopped a wet ribbon across the brick-red clay and called it good.
With my adrenaline pumping from hugging the guardrail away from oncoming traffic, I realized I had made it past the most imposing stretch of my ride and I would soon be surrounded by the cool shadows of cedar boughs in the forest. The air hand the crisp clearness of Winter. Off to my left I could see each crack and snarl in Jade Mountain, the highest mountain in East Asia (3952m./12966ft.) It looked just like the picture on my bank book. With the turn of a corner I was looking down the northern face of Alishan. I was becoming aware of the thin air and I worked harder to make progress. I was also becoming aware of a growl in my stomach. I had burned almost 4000 calories on the ascent and I was out of food. The extra food was gone. I had been hoping to find a tourist stop with a few vendors selling stuff I swore I'd never eat. As I closed in on my goal of the God Trees, I was beginning to think more about food. The rule is to drink before you are thirsty and to eat before you are hungry. I was in caloric deficit and my body knew it. I did not want to bonk on Alishan. At last I turned a corner and found my trees. There were several tourists milling around taking pictures, but no food.
I took a rest for a few minutes and posed for some tourists who obviously couldn't see how little enthusiasm I had for pictures. With my late start I was still able to summit by 2:00pm, which was my plan to land me back at my car before 5:00pm. My descent was incredibly fast. All the parts I had thought were dips or flat, were showing themselves to be pointing down hill. The only thing on my mind was to get whereI could grab some quick fuel for my legs. At the bottom of the climb there was a 7-11. I stopped for a late lunch that looked like it was chosen by an 8yo. It was all food high in sugar and caffeine to give my legs something immediate to burn. I threw in a rice ball to digest, but it was mostly all junk. I had about 1000 calories in 10 minutes and was back on my way. After about a half hour I was feeling much better with a new spring to my stroke. I launched up the remaining hills to Shuili and was back at the car early after logging 150k of riding. I popped open a bottle of water and quenched my thirst before heading toward home. As soon as I left Shuili I was stuck in a three and a half hour traffic jam to the #3 Freeway. All the mountain roads feed like tributaries into Mingjian causing severe holiday traffic. After al that riding I was stuck without dinner until after 8:30pm. The road up Tatajia is higher than the 149甲to Fenqihu, but it is also easier with easier gradients to climb. I had actually been contemplating returning on the 149甲, but my morning coffee was just a bit too long to give it a try. There were too many tourists on the road on my way out, but it was doable. The scenery was the type of spectacular you get when riding Taiwan's Central Mountain Range. Lots of good stuff on this ride, just remember to bring enough food.
Contrary to plan I have done relatively little riding this vacation. If you happen to see me on the road, don't remind me. I started my vacation with the pleasure of riding with Wing, a visitor from Aussie/Hong Kong, who had chosen a pretty challenging route to circumvent the island. I was able to meet Wing in Jhuolan and pilot him through Taichung to Bagua Shan, where I sent him on his way to Nantou. Wing rides an exquisite custom steel Jim Bundy frame from the Bundy frame building family; one of the oldest frame makers in Australia. The three triangle design really sets it apart. We swung by Caffe Terry on our way through Taichung. Unfortunately, Wing came down with the flu and was unable to continue his ride. A few days later I too was leveled by a fever and congestion in my lungs. Wing was a very capable rider and I hope he can return to Taiwan and make good on his plans. I would love to see someone do the round-island trip with a bit of flare, style and panache-- the hard way.
News:
The 2013 NAHBS (North American Handmade Bicycle Show) will be on from Feb. 22-24. NAHBS is a great way to see what the imaginations of non-corporate designers can come up with. Sometimes the small builders can shake the industry.
The legendary Dario Pegoretti teams up with some art students from Stuttgart in the name of charity.
Tom's Bike Trip details one guest's experience on a government sponsored junket to ride Taiwan. Not a bad article, though I wish writers would quit using the false construct of parity between China and Taiwan. The idea that Taiwan is what China "could have looked like" is wishful ignorance at best, that ignores Taiwan's unique historical trajectory that traverses numerous state projects and the popular reaction to those projects. *sigh*
