The Beast That Followed Me

For the past two days, I have been cycling north through the East Rift Valley. I felt sluggish yesterday, ending the day in Yule. Perhaps, I didn’t have enough to eat. The calories in the small yogurt and banana I had for breakfast were likely burned quickly and I didn’t eat anything substantial until later afternoon.

Today, breakfast at my guest house got me off to a good start, with a couple of fried eggs, sliced duck meat, and sauteed vegetables. And a piece of toast and peanut butter for good measure.

Located between the Coastal and Central mountain ranges, the East Rift Valley stretches for the more than 180 kms.

I’m following route 9 through the valley and will rejoin the coast in Hualien tomorrow. The valley, whose soil and climate make it the perfect place to grow rice, pineapples, tea, and other crops, cuts a wide swath between two sets of mountains that wouldn’t look out of place in British Columbia.

At Guanshan, my cycle map directed me off the main road and on to a series of small farm roads that crisscrossed the green and yellow rice paddies. It was here that the wrath of the tempest was unleashed. The wind was a beast, and I was cycling right into it. I struggled to pedal, it felt like being on a stationary bike with tension on max. I was barely doing ten kilometres per hour. I cursed out loud. My legs tired quickly, so I stopped every few hundred metres. It seemed like my distance tracker was stuck on twenty-one kilometres.

I was in a fight I didn’t ask to be in. I tried to push back, but I was no match for the strength of nature. At times, the wind gusts tried to knock me down. My ego was bruised. I kept waiting for the referee to call time or the bell to ring the end of a round, but neither came. I looked for a white flag to wave, but there wasn’t one.

As hard as it was, I kept pushing on. Near a bridge that took me across the Beinan River, a small pickup truck pulled into the bike lane ahead of me. As I passed the truck, the driver smiled at me, his mouth containing only half the number of teeth he once had. He made some motions with his hands, and said something to me in Mandarin, which I interpreted as: have fun cycling through this wind.

Many of the rice paddies in the region have turned yellow and are being harvested

I made a detour to the famed Mr. Brown Boulevard, a straight two kilometre stretch of country road that offers unobstructed views of rice paddies and the distant mountains. It’s been called the “green road of paradise” and was made famous when Mr. Brown Coffee filmed a commercial here. In 2013, EVA Air filmed part of a commercial on Brown Boulevard, further igniting its attraction.

Mr. Brown Boulevard

I knew I was getting close when I saw people riding kitschy four-person bikes with cartoon characters on the front. But given the number of bike rental shops I would later see, I’m glad it wasn’t high season, as only a few dozen people were there. I had someone take my picture at the iconic picture frame spot, and then continued another 50+ kilometres to Riusui, my next stop.  

An iconic spot next to Mr. Brown Boulevard

The wind didn’t let up all day. It followed and taunted me. It was constant and whenever I took a sip of water, it immediately stole the moisture from my mouth. Head down battling the wind, I still took time to enjoy the valley’s beauty.

Nearing Riusui, the road reared up, as I slowly followed the switchback up and up a hill. The road curved and continued higher and higher, seemingly without end. I was almost out of water, having sucked back five bottles, when I spotted a shop near the top. .

After a quick pit stop, I zipped down the hill and a couple of kilometres on, I found my accommodation. Above my bed are the words: Tired, I opened the door to my room and aptly on the wall above the bed were the words: WHAT MAKES LIFE DREARY IS THE WANT OF MOTIVE.