That was my attitude toward cycling-specific socks for years. Sure, cycling-specific apparels like jersey and padded short improved both on-bike performance and comfort considerably. But a pair of socks? I’ve been using standard cotton socks for years, feeling just fine even on 200+ km rides—until I gave compression socks a try recently. While perhaps not as significant as cycling-specific short and jersey, I must admit, they do make difference—especially on hours of constant, continuous pedalling motion.
It was early morning in the middle of March—a month after my own birthday, and a day after Surely’s own first one. The sky was painted in thick, moody haze; I was riding across southern Bandung’s vast ricefield, and the road seemed to lead nowhere but empty white space. Yet, I knew exactly where I was going.
Let’s admit it: 2020 didn’t go the way we had expected.
What started as a passing news from foreign land—pieces of story we quickly scrolled through without much attention—quickly spread across the globe and affected our life in a way we had never imagined. People fell ill, businesses dwindled, jobs lost—I was one among those affected financially, and was forced to slow down. It’s compelling to say 2020 was disastrous.
It was, however, inseparable part of the cycling trip to Moss Alley—a small attraction spot in the middle of Jayagiri forest, at the southern slope of the infamous Mount Tangkubanparahu. It was @kerangkerungs who invited me to the ride, and I was intrigued; a short weekend ride to nearby forest with few fellow cyclists seemed like a nice idea. So there we were, a group of four, climbed to the north of the city on a beautiful Saturday morning.
@asep_hadian’s words were as daunting as classic movie’s bad guy’s, when he passed me by on Pacet climb, km 56 of the ride. Held by @audaxrandonesia and @dirtxclouds, the 200k 2020 Bandung All Terrain Challenge started from @bikesystem.id and began with flattish, uneventful ride to Ciparay, the first checkpoint, at km 49. Starting at 5.00 a.m., I was one among the firsts to arrive. There was confusion among participants about the exact checkpoint location, until @storyonsaddle showed up carrying the barcode to scan. He reminded me not to stop too long, but I took my time regardless—snacking and drinking, while watching others passed me by.
Kamojang Pass has been calling for a while, and I must finally go.
It began as a whisper; seeing @bayuwhy on the first day of Palintang Pass Double Weekend Ride brought back the memory of him taking me to the arduous climb of the pass. I promised myself to return to Kamojang Pass since then, but it had remained a mere wish; that was, until flurry of follow-up calls came one after another: @dwisl’s ride photos, @fixedonyourflow’s (cancelled) endurance ride plan, and @hndrsyam’s ride log—as if Kamojang Pass was reminding me of the promise I had made.
“Why am I doing this?” I asked myself. @derryfa and I were sitting on the roadside, staring at seemingly endless climb under scorching sun ahead—our only way back home. Our legs seemed to refuse to cooperate already—so did our spirit.
The trip was indeed something different than I usually do—a strict quest of distance and time instead of view and general pleasure. It started with @edmundjeds’ invitation to join him to ride along Bandung 300 km Audax in the mid of the month—something both @derryfa and I were unsure to accept, since I knew what such a long ride entails; my last year’s 200 km ride to Pangandaran proved to be a torture, despite the fact that I was already familiar with 100km++ ride.
It’s been a while since last time I had such a fun ride.
Sunday, August 2nd of 2020, 5.45 a.m., four cyclists who had never ridden together—or even didn’t know each other before—gathered in Alfamart in Gedebage. It all started with a direct message from @xtoredy asking me to ride with him while he was in Bandung. Once the plan was set, he invited his friend @anggawis to join the ride; likewise, I invited fellow Bandung cyclist @derryfa to join, too. So there we were, four cyclists who had never ridden together, brought together for a Sunday gravel fest.
Let me start with an honest confession: an epic gravel adventure was what I was longing for.
After only doing easy city strolls during Ramadan month, however, I reckon it’d be wiser for me to go on a warm-up ride instead—something harder than mere city rides, yet isn’t as demanding as long gravel trip. Palintang Pass is normally my go-to choice; after recent repeated trips there, though, I decided to ride another nearby mountain pass: The Eurad Pass.
I’ve been wondering about it myself—the route has been sitting on my ride plan list for the past few years. Unlike my usual preference, it doesn’t involve a mountain pass. With total elevation gain of almost 1400 m, however, it was comparable to my previous mountain pass century rides, thanks to its pronounced hilly terrain alone. Somehow, it has always fallen out of my personal favor—that is, until fellow cyclists @storyonsaddle and @foldinggram actually rode it, and inspired me to take it for my birthday solo ride.