Danshui

Completely flat ride to Danshui, one that has been typical during the past two years that I say I haven't been riding. Riding on riverside bikeways is not riding. Training perhaps. There's nothing challenging about riding on riverside bikeways aside from not getting annoyed at other people on them who aren't cyclists or who don't know proper etiquette.

The big loop on the map is due to the GPS when I decided to test navigation using the GPS without having pre-planned where I was going, and it worked like a charm and I was easily able to figure out where I was and where I wanted to go based on previous experience (although annoying is that the MRT red line is depicted by a . . . red line, the same that indicates the GPS route).

Shenkeng-Shiding climb

Shenkeng-Shiding climb

This ride was the product of having a GPS on a bike, for better or worse. The GPS allows, either upon doing or reviewing a ride, to discover other possible routes and roads to try. In this case it was a road that I noticed and decided to try. It was a climb and slightly higher than the climbs I had been doing, and ended up in familiar territory.

As a climb, it was fine, and fortunately with the GPS, when I went off course two times, I noticed and was able to get back. But the descent into Shiding was pretty miserable with ridiculously steep downhills and ending up on a bit of road that was unpaved, making this a ride that I won't be doing again.

I thought of returning to Taipei using an easy climb from Shenkeng that I found earlier, but I started late in the afternoon and it looked like it might get dark while still on inclines, so I abandoned that idea and backtracked my way home.

My day to days are simply getting from day to day. Can't say I'm particularly happy, but certainly not unhappy. I have nothing to complain about, but I do sometimes and then I stop myself.

I don't feel particularly desirous for anything, but I'm aware of my human nature, which by nature has the concept of desire in the mix. I'm at a measure of peace with myself, but I still grapple with my negativity, staring it down as an improper and unworthy way to be in this world.

I've never been one to bore easily, it's quite easy for me to amuse myself uselessly, but my day to day has taken it to epic levels. I'm wasting my life away in epic fashion (but aren't many people similarly wasting their lives away? . . . only much more busy, filled with things they do to give their lives meaning, but ultimately may be vain and fruitless).

Over the past recent years, I've lost most interest in all of the things I used to do that identified me. And at about the same time I've developed this "thing", this resonance over Korea. It's internal and not something to act on. I'm not going to start taking language classes or traveling to Korea or trying to meet Korean people. Not even re-connecting with the Korean people in my past. I'm not idealizing Korea, I'm fully aware of the faults of Korean society.

But a thought occurred to me that I totally don't believe in, but I'm gonna float it out anyway. With this whole unsuccessful suicide thing looking to becoming the story of my life (even though I feel suicide is my goal and purpose in life as a culmination of my understanding), I had this bizarre thought that on some plane of existence, in some imaginal or psychic realm, I have died and this psychic part of me is continuing on despite my not having died yet.

That psychic part of me got fed up with me blithering on about suicide, and finally said, "You keep being undecided about your physical self that you're obviously so attached to, I'm moving on". And there went all the things I used to enjoy, the things I used to do that identified me. Died.

And as I seem to have this idea that my next life will actually be in South Korea, in this imaginal, maybe mystic realm, my current consciousness has become very sensitive towards imprints and stimuli of South Korean culture.

If I had actually gone through with it and was re-born in South Korea, I'd be experiencing the real deal with no need for psychic or mystic realms. But since I'm not there physically, my current consciousness is responding to stimuli and imprints of where I should be. 

I have no theoretical mechanics to offer to even try to explain this. Karma, or the same metaphysical substrate that might theoretically carry karma, may be involved. Maybe a sort of "reverse karma". When I do die and if I end up in Korea next, actual karma and this reverse karma just meld, and what is disjunct now come together.

As weird as that is even for me, the universe is a very weird place. The further scientific exploration takes our understanding, the weirder things get. So why not?

two easy climbs

FDK->ShenKeng->舊莊 (2 easy climbs)

This turned out to be an anti-climatic ride. The first climb was Fudekeng that I'm well-acquainted with as an easy climb. I anticipated the second climb to be more challenging in my old age and alcoholism, and while doing it I was constantly paranoid of finding I couldn't do it. After multiple instances of going down to my grandpa gear, I realized the climb wasn't going any higher and I was on the descent, and it was, in the end, easy.

And after doing this year after year for decades, I think the judgment and condescension inherent in this meme is rendered invalid and you get an official pass . . . especially when you realize you weren't trying to change the color of the sea at all, you were trying to KILL YOURSELF*.

*Normative views of self or yourself are not assumed or condoned by this blog. Nor the view of "kill" for that matter.

Qidu hills

七堵 hills (Keelung)

Because of this Garmin GPS, I've been starting to ride again for the first time in two years. I don't think I rode at all last year, and any riding was all on flat, off-road riverside bikeways.

Unfortunately, due to age and alcohol intake, I'm a lot weaker now than I was even 4 years ago and hills are killing me. I just can't tackle them the way I used to and I wonder if I'll be able to even challenge more serious climbs.

But I've been testing myself on lesser climbs. The climbs in Cidu, east of Taipei and a part of Keelung district, I knew were probably manageable. Although before the GPS, I never got a feel for the routes because the previous times I went there, there was always some issue that never allowed me to discover a definite route through the hills. 

Now it all makes sense, and there is a definite main course through the ride, and with variations that can take me into Keelung or other routes to complete the same climbs. With a maximum height of 858 feet, it should be a very manageable climb, and after the first cursory moments of suffering, I did manage it just fine.

And the GPS has been awesome in keeping me on course. Already several times I've started in the wrong direction and then noticed it only because of the GPS and was able to turn around and not get lost. 

Minor double climb

Fudekeng/Jiannan double climb

Neither Fudekeng nor Jiannan is a major climb. Fudekeng is a 600 foot climb on an easy grade, and Jiannan is a slightly steeper grade, but a lesser 500 foot climb. The two climbs are separated by almost 10 miles of flat riverside bikeway (about 37 minutes).

I did cut this ride short because of time, and once I finished the Jiannan climb and descent into Shilin district, near the National Palace Museum, I took a shortcut through a tunnel back into Neihu district where the climb started, rather than taking an extended route on the riverside bikeways in Shilin, which was the plan, which would have added perhaps a few miles to the route, and which I'll probably do at some point.

For the love of god, I have no recollection of publishing the last two posts, much less completing them. Imagine my surprise opening up the post directory and seeing those drafts published and then rushing to check if it wasn't some regrettable drunken mistake.

And they were, no doubt, drunken mistakes, but upon looking them over, I think they're what I was getting at. That's a little comforting. It used to be that drunken blogging led to sober regret and immediate deleting of posts.

So, you see, I have progressed. Now I blog drunkenly and don't remember what I wrote or when I published it and then look at what I posted, and go, "well OK, then".

I did leave out geeking out about that specific ride, which I suppose I would've boringly done if I had the Edge 800 when I was younger. Emphasizing that it was a training ride, 700ft of climbing is not a show-off point, nor an 11mph average.

41 miles is a decent length, but after the short climb, it was all flat and included a snack break in the town of Shenkeng, famous for its stinky tofu. And Shenkeng stinky tofu is the only edible stinky tofu for this foreigner because they slather it in a tasty peanut sauce and stuff it with Korean kimchi.

And a lot of the ride was slow going because we had a typhoon (Saola) last week and the government is still clearing, cleaning and fixing the riverside parks. And I give credit to Taipei for taking the clean-up seriously, they've done a fantastic job, but it takes time to make them sparkly and shiny and there were some sections they were working on that were still caked with mud.

The Edge 800 is turning out to be great. It marks the total time of rides, but it also records the time that you were actually moving. So if you're stopped at a light or taking a break, it doesn't include that.

I probably won't remember publishing this post, either. I so don't remember how my nights end that I've started to record into a micro-cassette recorder I keep on my nightstand what time I turn off the lights and what I had been doing to be turning the lights off that late.

I'm sure I haven't mentioned that I broke my only shot glass (a double) several months ago. Drinking from a shot glass kinda acted as a regulator. I'd drink a shot and then there'd be some lag time until the next one.

But now I'm just drinking out of glasses, so I just fill them up to what may look to some to be an impressive level, and I sip, but there's still more there, and so I just keep drinkin' it and re-fillin' it and all of a sudden I'm thinkin' in a Scottish accent.

You're not really drunk until you're speaking in strange accents. But since I have no one to talk to, it's just thinking in strange accents. Mind you, my kind of drunkenness still entails washing my glasses and brushing my teeth before turning off the lights.

Testing. And blowing my mind. And pondering:
FDK->ShenKeng->full bikeways home

So about that windfall I mentioned. I've been loosening my attachments towards money, about which I profess is not an issue in this lifetime, and it isn't. I really believe it isn't.

I've been buying stuff, but it's not like I'm suddenly indulging in new found luxury. Mostly I've just been replacing stuff that I've been holding out upgrading. And the things I've been upgrading have been long due.

The Casio G-shock altimeter watch replaced the Timex Helix that I've had for about 10 years and which finally died while I rode over cobblestones that it couldn't handle. My focus on G-shock was specifically related to that.

I bought new tires for my bike, which replaced tires I bought 4 years ago, and it was not the first time I rode tires to the point of being able to see the steel wires at their core. Believe me, by that point, you've been riding on tires much too long.

New cycling gloves were not a big deal, but the cycling shorts I've been riding on for the past 10 years, I can tell you 10 years is beyond their lifetime. Extended rides were getting reasonably painful and my new padded shorts have been . . . just fine.

And my new shoes are no joke. I can't believe I've been suffering my old cycling shoes for over 10 years. They'd gotten to the point of being painful on extended rides (not unlike the shorts), and with the new shoes extended distances put no further strain on my feet.

I really appreciated the local Giant bike shop from which I got my new shoes when they told me the clips on my old shoes were fine and could be transferred onto the new shoes and I didn't need to replace my pedals.

But the point of this post is the Garmin Edge 800 bike GPS I bought. All of the things I've purchased as a result of this recent windfall has been replacement stuff or enhancement of perishable stuffs. That's important. If I'm spending money to acquire stuff, there needs to be a point.

I justify the Edge 800 purchase because it is something I wanted all along. It sucks that this technology comes so late in my life. It is exactly what I would have wanted 10 years ago when I was doing rides around the Bay Area.

I'm not riding like I was 10 years ago, nor am I the rider that I was 10 years ago. 10 years ago I was tackling hills of any size with gusto to test myself. Now, I'm struggling with hills, wondering if I can do the easiest of them. Buying this Edge 800 GPS unit is basically just an overdue gift to myself.

I would have loved to have a device that recorded my rides 10 years ago in the Bay Area; climbs, altitudes, pace, routes, etc. I was just happy with my basic Cateye bike computer that told me distance and speeds.

In the same way I would have loved to have grown up with an iPod, being able to put all the music I found in one location. Keeping all the music I found despite technology advancements from LPs to cassettes to CDs to MP3s.

But without the technology lag, I wonder if artists would have found the freedom to create the music they did before technology became such a dominant factor in consumers' lives.

I was into 70s progressive rock and 90s indie rock. Could either of those genres have survived in the digital era? I honestly don't know. But they did survive in people appreciating them like me in spite of the digital era.

I can only wonder if future generations can appreciate that kind of music. If they can, it's their gain. If they can't, it's not their loss, I shouldn't wonder. If they don't appreciate it, you can't fault them. It's just not for them.

Time has passed me by through technology. I didn't need to buy this Garmin Edge 800, I don't need my iPod(s). They enhance my appreciation of my general being here, but I'm not attaching to them.

As a product review, the Edge 800 is everything a cyclist could want in a bike mounted GPS unit, I shouldn't wonder. Certainly future models might improve on it, but until that happens, you need to have a pretty specific workout routine to be unhappy with this product.

There's a line in Richard Bach's book Illusions which goes something like, "If you're wondering whether your mission in life is finished, if you're alive, it isn't".

I'm still alive, but I do have a feeling my mission in this life is finished. Actually, I'll prefer to say that I'm at my journey's end, and have been for a while. If life is a path, I'm literally at the end of it, there's no where to go for me from here; from this cruddy little apartment in Taipei.

The physical path has ended, and only the temporal path has been lingering until I decide to have a personal breakthrough regarding existence and reality.

There's nothing I want to do, nowhere I want to go. I'm not going anywhere, not on my own accord. I don't feel bad about it, I feel free, only trapped by my own mind, limitations and neurotic. And I do consider myself very, very fortunate. But I can't even conceive of taking the very first steps to move again, whether to another apartment, to Kaohsiung, or back to the U.S.

If I wanted to, I could continue with a mission. I could become a participant in my young nephews' and nieces' lives, but there's nothing compelling me towards that mission. They'll be fine without me, I shouldn't wonder, and with me there's no establishing they will be better off for it.

My path is just my own path. I decide when the mission is done.