Marshmallow : Sunday Ride at Kan-irag's Marshes

So much mudness to endure...

'

And the world spins mudly on...

Go to Hill: Tolo-tolo, Consolacion, Cebu

*This post goes out to Jazz, who is very supportive of my rise to porn stardom 

"'Look upon my works ye mighty and despair.' Nothing beside remains " *see footnote

- no other groups of people understand human race much better than athletes. we nourish our primitive drive to outdo, eliminate, and overpower others in a way that destroys morale (of a certain sub-group called losers) yet builds relationship (real, genuine caring relationship between the sub-groups of winners, whiners, and losers). so what's the big idea? instead of turning to cheap means of destroying others like gossiping, bragging about your genius, or making a big deal of your being a groupie (nobody really sees you as an individual, you are a groupie), you can turn to more creative ways to nurture your primitive instincts. competition builds friendship while you try to break others. even athletes who hate each other so much will die at the absence of one.

 - the human body, even in terms of mechanics, is still more efficient than the bicycle. we self-repair and self-preserve. with constant and intense use, our body becomes more fit. with constant and intense use, the bicycle wears out. we age gracefully, the bicycle depreciates. our disadvantage from a mechanical viewpoint: our parts are only partly serviceable, partly replaceable. and we need more than just allen wrenches to do those!

 - i am not a hater. i just find it plain wrong to like losers. 

 - when i was in high school, me and my friend michael brought a 'project' called dancing mothballs to our science fair. i got the idea (the whole of it, actually) from a book called simple science experiments. we placed mothballs into water with baking soda and vinegar, which made the mothballs would go up and down. the mothballs would accumulate carbon dioxide bubbles and lift them to the surface, where the bubbles would pop and the mothballs would go down for them to float up again. our tiny experiment got no citation for the scientific principles it presented (which i would rather not discuss in this blog). instead, the presentations that won were mostly miniture barnyards with fancy lighting. unfortunately, i could not point to any scientific or architectural significance for those things. but then again, we are a country that produces pop singers, import murderously cliched korean TV series, and generate an overwhelming surplus of nurses who can't even insert an IV properly: we cannot expect much from our science teachers. 

 - just to be very clear, i do not present myself as a downhiller. i am more of a cross country rider, if i have to classify myself. i do XC routes, highways, trails, climbs, descents but not hardcore drops and jumps. i am fortunate enough to know some really great downhill riders so i know what i am not 

 - i have been riding kenda kinetics 2.35 for the past three months and they sure grip pretty well, like duct tape across your lips. but it's unreliable on pebbly/sandy surfaces. nonetheless, these tires are very special to me. the Boss bought these, i just gave her the money. it was dress up day at work when she bought the pair and she was like dressed up and on cigarette heels while dragging those DH tires with her. what a picture it must have been 

 -today i rode the tolotolo-sacsac route. it's a hilly route and i go there whenever i want to have an express XC ride. it's quite near but you feel different when you get to the place. that's why i like it

from the Boss. Rox asked me where the photo is. here it is, yo

Your skull protects your brain. Do not abuse its function, wear a helmet.

A very long switch back.

Kenda Kinetics. I kenda like them.

This is what hit-and-run looks like.

My chain jammed between the rings so I was forced to stop.

**The line is taken from the poem "Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley. It's about our man Ozy (the guy is a tyrant/ruler of some sort) and he ordered a statue made for him with that line. A traveler passed by that monument, it was completely wrecked but the line still readable for everyone to see the paradox between his claimed greatness and the wreck that his kingdom was reduced to.

he is not a film star

for nearly a year now, i have been posting mountain bike trips on my blog. it's the usual photo-and-text blog, with just one video posted in its 10-month existence. but words and images have an inherent limitation: they cannot convey motion. photos are great for freezing fragments of seconds but what happens before and after is left to the imagination of the reade--something that would not work if you want to share what cycling is about.

mountain biking, like love, is a poorly understood sport. before i turn 23 this march, i want to do a trip that will sum up what it means to be a mountain biker. it is not about being hardcore or having Wolverinish quads. why do i want to do this? because this sport is a big part of myself. and a big part of myself will forever be misunderstood if i do not try. i want people to understand why i go out on my bike way before light and come home way after dark. this afternoon, i've tried putting my facebook-level filmmaking skills. i want to know how far a point and shoot camera can go in capturing what i do.

 **

 i would like to thank my Boss for giving me these Fox Sidewinder gloves.

Google Chapel

Instead of chasing Google through its maze of algorithm changes, which often come unannounced, don’t you think it’s about time we “boo” Big G? Come on ref, make up your mind. But then again we have to feed the Giant because it feeds us. Web techs and bloggers are keeping the chase and they will do so until a competitor tips the seesaw flat. Then we’ll be free to favor the nicer guy. Dream on. That will never happen.

***

 I do not hate Google. It is still my favorite search engine. But I appreciate it more because of Google Earth. Google Earth has helped me find a number of exciting trails. Google has really extended its definition of “search engine” into a more literal level.

***

Third year of mountain biking. Over the years, I have learned to love chapels more than churches. Asking for directions from locals will almost always involve the mentioning of chapels. Chapels serve as landmarks in the most inaccessible of areas. And where DPWH will most likely never reach, missionaries have Christianized decades ago. That’s why chapels, in their crudeness, have done more help to me than any church in Cebu. There's a lot more salvation in chapels. Yes, in my ride this morning, I passed by a chapel.

My (mid) Week in Photos

    Tuesday: Challenged my cousin to show off some tricks. Bailed out after missing out.

   Tuesday: Got lost in the trail. It was already 5.30pm but still I decided to diverge. It was
   already dark  when I got out.

    Wednesday: I felt socky. Knee socks that the Boss gave me a couple of months ago. Used only
    once so I wore it again.

    Wednesday: backdoor trail, it was night when I arrived at the Parola. Bagacay Point,
   Catarman, Liloan.

    Thursday: Flowery world.

    Thursday: From the road up ahead.

    Thursday: "Mountain" bike. Parked in Brgy. Mulao, Liloan.

    Thursday: Options at Tabla junction.

Rise of the Jejemons: Carcar-Barili-Sibonga Vegetable Highway

Prologue The Vegetable Highway is an asphalted road that connects the three towns of Carcar, Barili, and Sibonga. I starts at KM 46.5 and ends in Sibonga to the east and Dumanjug to the west. There is also a road the links it to Cebu's "Vegetable Basket," my favorite place in Cebu, Mantalongon, Dalaguete. (My next-to-my-room favorite place in Cebu, just to be precise.) I

I jejevolved today (vb., to transform into a jejemon from a previous non-jejemon state). I was riding my bike listening to wRock when I started losing signal of the station. I changed the dial to the next station with a clear signal and 97.1 came up. As I would rather listen to anything that have a fatal boredom attack, I stuck with the station. First I was just listening to this song about drinking Margarita. It seemed that the tune and the instruments were more intoxicating than the margarita itself. It’s the my-heard-is-whirling-twirling kind of intoxicating, not the kind that gently puts you to sleep. A few more songs followed and soon enough I was singing to the tune of Lady Gaga and Taylor Swift remixes. I sang my larynx out even if the remixed tune got me offbeat every now and then (not that I’m ever “on beat”). A different person is slowly creeping into my being. Expect me to use a different set of alphabets soon and wear an obviously fake Monster Energy cap even if I am not into motocross and energy drinks.

II

Being a jejemon is not my only concern during that trip. Actually, I am at peace with the direction my being is taking. jejeje. I was really worried by the buses. If you have not been to the south, you have not seen reckless driving yet. I do not know how people who have utter disregard for safety are allowed to drive 12-tons of steel that can go way over 100kph. When these homicidal vehicles pass by, they create a slipstream that seems to pull you right underneath the bumper. Not to mention that they drive pretty close (by that I mean less than one meter) to cyclists. I always concede and create the necessary distance else I’ll be turned into random chunks of human anatomy.

III

Vegetable highway starts 6.5km from Carcar City. It’s right after the junction to Mainit Hot Spring. There’s a huge “Vegetable Highway” sign to your left so you will never have to worry about missing it. Just tilt your head in the most gymnastic way possible. The sign is way up in the sky. It must have been sponsored by the extra-terrestrial embassy.

From that junction is a two and a half hour bike ride to Samboan (photo shooting and self-timer moments included). You will never get lost as long you don’t take any of those turns you pass by. You will get to a “Y”-shaped junction when you already have to take your pick between Dumanjug and Samboan. It’s either left or right from there so no worries about getting lost. You don’t even have to ask the locals for direction.

I have always wanted to do this route and two weeks ago I got the chance to talk to a friend who’s been there already. He finished the longer and more punishing Dumanjug route in two hours, on a road bike. He’s a leg killer so I’m fine with my pace. I first planned to ride a bus to Carcar and start pedaling there. But I realized yesterday that I prefer to get run over than be on the bus when the accident happens. So it’s all-pedal mode today. I’m sleepy.

Everything turned out well except for two scary moments. Once I was enjoy the sweet tarmac-smooth downhill when my front tire ran over a stone. I going down too fast that I did not notice it (no pedestrians, no intersection, sheer downhill, you understand why). My front tire drew number 8s all over the road. I was lucky I regained control before any blog-entry-changing event happened.

Then another time was thing huge bump on the road. From the “Y” Junction at the Vegetable Highway you’ll be taking an unpaved barangay road. I was riding slow because my head was starting to hurt (refer to two entries before this) but I’ve lost my patience so I’ve let the brake levers go. Just when I was starting to accelerate I’ve hit a bump that nearly ripped my wrist off. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Here’s a post-script to disaster. On my way home, I “sort-of” ran into a taxi’s rear bumper. It happened near the flyover at Wireless, Mandaue. The driver suddenly stopped to make a u-turn and I was too close to avoid contact. Luckily, my brakes functioned according to purpose. My rear tire got off the ground for a couple of feet, the front tire smacked the bumper, and nothing else happened. My fault, I did not keep my distance. I started to get my second wind at Mabolo and I was pedaling at a pace inappropriate for busy traffic.

IV

No matter how ridiculous jejemons may be to some of us, we must not fail to see that they are imitating a certain fashion/social behavior/hyrieglyphic code because they want a sense of uniqueness and belongingness. They want to feel that they belong to a unique group that accepts them for what they want to be. So as long as jejemons don’t bite you, let them be. Don’t call them the J word either.

As I went up, it felt that the hills were rising with me. (It's a natural phenomenon actually, nothing poetic there.)

Mr. Lion Head.

I drank unfiltered spring water from a different source way beyond this. Manang said "buyag" when 

I admired the taste and coolness of the water. It's an expression when they don't want something to be cursed.

A giant pushed these twin mountains apart to look for his missing marble.

"Major sponsor." jejeje. I did not notice that until the uploading of this photo.

It's a goose-bump-stimulating descent from here to there.

Marker. My marker, I mean.

Alternating between ground and hanging plants allow the soil to "breathe" so it remains fertile.

An abandoned hut. "Shack" as them GI say in Vietnam War movies.

Water was flowing all over the place so it's natural for people to make the most out of it by planting rice. Rice requires
A LOT of water. Being from Bukidnon and knowing how difficult it is to grow rice, I never leave a morsel on my plate. Actually, morsels are the only things I hold sacred. I also do not step on them and ask for forgiveness whenever I am too full to finish a helping (this happens in fastfood only).

I left before sunrise so that explains the headlamp. I got this two years ago. I'm a keeper.

The most beautiful chapel I have ever been to. I failed to capture the serenity and beauty of it. I was too absorbed.

Whoever owns this has a lot of time and imagination. I did not stop while taking this. Actually, this whole portion looks like a "nature park" like that in Mountain View in Busay. There are nice concrete-and-stone benches around trees. Only that these stuff are along the road and for free. No photos of them. Drool to death you lazy reader. 

The Dumanjug-Sibonga Junction. Just a marker.

I had to think over if the bike exceeds the weight limit.

*Special thanks to the Boss for a bar of Kitkat and Snickers and a bottle of 100 Plus. Had a 5am breakfast with her for our usual sendoff and I got goodies ;)