That was the text from my little brother @rizkiardhi_ in one fine afternoon—the text that eventually led to this road cycling trip to Wayang-Windu, the trip we had been planning for awhile.
Offering the ride across plains tea plantation in Pangalengan highland, Wayang-Windu route was one among few roadie-friendly cycling destination in Bandung. Despite the refreshing view and vibe, it wasn’t as popular as Lembang or Tangkubanparahu Entrance Gate, for a good reason; the distance and the total elevation gain means it requires about 8 hours of total trip time—definitely closer to endurance-type ride than those morning quick getaways. But my brother was looking for a 100+ km with good view, so…
That was the question I asked @therudihartanto, when he told me he was going to Nagrek Pass, a couple of months ago—the question that I actually had to ask myself. Lately, I thought a ride to Nagrek Pass is a bit lacking and should be added with Cijapati Pass to make a larger loop—yet, somehow, I never actually rode it myself.
“What makes a good allroad/gravel cycling bag/pack?”
That was the question @cycling.cub asked me when we set out to collaborate. It was raining that night; we were sitting on a café, talking about what each of us could bring to the table—and what we could offer to the market.
To me, the pack should offer distinct and clear value instead of just another pack of another brand, which competes only through low price and discount. It should be optimized to perform its core functions well, instead of being loaded with list of gimmicks. Based on my personal experience, I came up with five basic principles: practicality, versatility, durability, stability, and—of course—aesthetic.
There’s something about humble morning city strolls during Ramadan, that brought me back again and again.
I’ve tried riding on the afternoon, out of my parents’ concern that, with abstinence from food and (especially) drink, morning ride would put me to risk of dehydration. Yet afternoon traffic was a convoluted mess of reckless motorists and pollution-congested air that turned the ride into something more like a fight for survival—the opposite of the kind of experience I was seeking. Heading to nearby hills was an option, but the ride home afterward was the same peace-draining experience.
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.
It’s been years since my Dad said it to me for the first time. Located 40 km to the south from Pekalongan city center—the coastal hometown of my parents—the region sat on the northern slope of North Serayu Mountainrange, and is home to Pekalongan’s finest natural tourism attractions—mostly waterfalls. It wasn’t the tourism spots that lured me there, however; it was, instead, the promise of smooth winding road surrounded by forest so pristine one could easily see monkeys jumping around the tree canopy.
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.
“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.
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.
“Is going on a long ride, on Chinese New Year, a good idea?” my wife asked.
I had to admit she had a point. In Indonesia, Chinese New Year is identical with rain. Weather forecast predicted 80% chance of rain as early as 10 am, and 100% afterward. Despite the certainty of rain, however, I was firm with the plan of exploring new cycling route in Pangalengan—especially after my last rain ride to Palintang.