The real fun began a few kilometers later. I was “zooming” along on my bike when I passed a big earth mover. As I passed it, I heard a voice shout something at me, and a second later, I was at the base of a huge pile of rubble blocking the road. It seemed that I’d found the end of the road. And it really was the end. There was no way that even a bike like mine was going to get past this landslide.

I turned to look at the man who had shouted at me, and he pointed over the cliff and down at the river a couple of hundred meters below. I didn’t know what he meant, but I cycled to the edge and looked at the river. And lo and behold there was traffic moving along the river bed down there. River beds in Taiwan are extremely wide. I’ve seen them as wide as half a kilometer yet with only a little river running down the middle of it. Only in the times of flood would the whole riverbed be full. Somehow the construction crews had managed to grade a temporary road down there along the riverbed. All I had to do was turn around and find the road down to the riverbed and I could keep going.

The road down was extremely steep, and I tackled it gleefully. I couldn’t believe my luck that I’d be able to ride down there right beside the river. It seemed a great adventure. Again there is no way that you’d be allowed to do something like that in Canada. Only in Taiwan…

I had no idea how far I’d be able to go down there alongside the river and no idea where I would end up. There was no one to ask and even if there was, I wouldn’t be able to trust their information. I had no choice but to keep on going. The worst thing that could happen would be that I’d reach Taoyuan and not be able to go further. It would likely be too late to turn back, but I could always sleep in my tent. I thought it would be pretty cool to sleep in my tent down there beside the river. At least it would be cool as long as it didn’t rain. If it rained, there could easily be a flash flood and I could be cut off. But it’s for adventures like these that one rides a bike to begin with.

The road they’d made was a pretty good one. Rough, of course, but not too rough. I was very glad to have my bike from Canada – the one that I’d had built for Ethiopia and Guinea. A normal bike wouldn’t have been able to withstand the pounding that this rocky road gave it. The main channel of the river was only about twenty meters across, but the current was very strong. The water was a muddy brown with all the dirt it contained. There were other smaller channels of water here and there, and four times, these channels crossed the road that I was cycling on. It was impossible to know how deep the water was in these channels, and they were as wide as fifty meters. All I could do was put my bike in the lowest gear and plunge in and hope that I could power my way to the other side. It was great fun, and on my way through, I didn’t fall over or get wet at all. The water at its deepest was only about a foot deep and though my bags and bike got a little wet, no damage was done. I didn’t even get my feet wet.

It was great fun to be riding down there along the river. The mountains rose up high on both sides of me, and there was lots to look at and experience. The main road was high above me cut into the cliffs and I could see that most of it was completely washed away and destroyed. It would a long time before that road was repaired. On both sides, there was evidence of massive rock and mud slides. I couldn’t even imagine what this place looked like during the typhoon. It must have been an awesome sight.

This temporary road went for about eight kilometers before it rejoined the main road at Taoyuan. And there, my worst fears were realized. The road really was impassable. My informants had been telling the truth. The road had crossed the river at this point and whatever bridge had been there was completely gone. There wasn’t even any evidence of it left. The whole thing had been completely demolished and washed away. If it were a matter of life and death, I suppose I could have made it across the river without the bridge. But it would have to be a matter of life and death. And I’d likely need ropes and who knows what else. The water was too deep for wading. You’d have to swim across. And the current was far too strong for that. Even so, there is no way I could have gotten my bike and other gear across. And I would only have attempted it if I knew for sure that normal travel would pick up on the other side. And from what I saw, that was a slim hope. What I could see of the road was completely destroyed. You’d almost need mountain climbing gear to get up the first part of it. And my informants told me that that was just the beginning – that the road was in far worse shape on the other side and there was no way to make your way along it. And even if you wanted to make the attempt, you’d have to have all your own food and water. The towns had nothing to offer.

I still didn’t quite believe all the horror stories I was hearing, and I was wondering if there was a place upriver where it was possible to wade across. I really didn’t want to turn back after having come so far. However, when I saw Taoyuan, I finally had to give in and give up.

Taoyuan was a small town high up above. The road that they’d carved along the riverbank went past Taoyuan before it joined up with the main road. I climbed up the road to Taoyuan and was taken completely by surprise by what I saw. My original informant was completely right. Taoyuan was a ghost town. It was the strangest thing. I had expected things to be a little abnormal, but I never expected things to be as strange as they were. The town was almost completely empty. All the storefronts were closed and locked up tight with nothing but piles of garbage and debris in front of them. Before I got there, I was wondering if there would be a hotel or anything like that. It turns out my concerns were not strong enough. I shouldn’t have been wondering if there were any hotels. I should have been wondering if there were any people.

I rode my bike along the deserted main street. I saw two or three construction workers and that was it until I reached the police station at the far end of town. There I saw five men sitting outside. I had an idea that talking to them might not be the best idea, but I thought that any informant would be better than no informant.

I rode up to the police station and parked my bike. The five policemen were not what one would expect. They were all past middle-age and extremely fat. They sat in front of the police station on rickety plastic chairs. They’d all stripped down to their undershirts and had their immense bellies hanging out. And they were all drunk out of their mind. They were friendly, I suppose, but when it comes to groups of drunk men it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference between friendliness and abuse. And that’s what happened here. They waved me over and gave me a place to sit. They even got me a large bottle of cold water. However, they shouted so loudly doing this and were so aggressive that I never quite felt comfortable. I felt that I was one step away from being thrown into jail or beat up or something worse. I was in hillbilly country.

I stayed long enough to feel that I had been polite, and then I slowly made my goodbyes and got back on my bike. There was nothing for me in Taoyuan and I had no choice but to turn around and start heading back. I had it in the back of my mind that I could put up my tent at the side of the river somewhere. I had enough water to last the evening and the night. The problem, minor as it was, was that I had no food. Certainly one night of hunger wouldn’t be a big problem. But there were enough daylight hours to make it back to the nearest town or even to Baolai, where I knew there were hotels. I figured I could make up my mind as I rode, and I found that I was suddenly riding downhill instead of up. And with the excitement of riding along the river and going to Taoyuan, my energy levels were up pretty high and I decided to just bite the bullet and ride back to Baolai. I had more than enough time to get there, and even if I arrived very hot and tired, at least there would be a comfortable hotel waiting for me. Knowing a hotel lies at the end of a day of cycling can make a big difference to your state of mind. When I cycled across Canada, I camped out almost every night. The heat in Taiwan, however, makes camping out far less appealing. Unless you camped right beside a crystal-clear lake, you’d never get the chance to clean up and cool down. You’d just sit around and then lie around for hours covered in dirty, stinking sweat. It wouldn’t be much fun.

Riding back down the river was quite a bit easier than the ride up since I was now going downhill. Most of the time I could coast and I had to control my speed with my brakes. I crossed over the first chunk of water without a problem. On the second, however, I ran into a problem. I chose a different line, thinking the water was shallower there. I was completely wrong, and the water was much deeper. Then just when I hit the middle of the stretch, a car behind me suddenly honked its horn. It had somehow snuck up behind me on the road and I had no idea it was there. The horn startled me, and I lost control of the bike and lost all my forward momentum. I had no choice but to jump off the bike and into the water and push the bike the rest of the way. At least the bike didn’t fall over into the water, but I had to endure wet shoes and socks for the rest of the day.

I was quite relieved to get out of the riverbed and back onto the main road. I was tired by that point and the bumping and grinding on the rocks was getting to me. Then the final push up the steep access road almost did me in. Immediately after that, I had to navigate a tunnel that had to be three quarters of a kilometer in length. It was pitch black inside and very spooky. My flashlight didn’t do much to light up the tunnel, but it at least lit up some of the reflectors on the walls so I could keep myself centered and not run into the walls by accident.

I didn’t have much energy left by the end of all this, but I just kept plugging along and eventually I found myself back at Baolai. I went to the nicest and largest hotel in town, but they, inexplicably, told me that they were full and had no available rooms. I checked the place out later that night and it was as empty as when I first saw the place. I got the impression they just disapproved of my bicycle and overall appearance. They didn’t want riffraff like me smelling up the place and scaring away the quality guests.

It didn’t matter in the end, since there were plenty of hotels in town, and I found a perfectly comfortable one just a couple of buildings away. They didn’t mind my appearance or my bicycle. They even let me put the bicycle in the dining room, saving me the trouble of bringing it up to my room in the elevator. The room was pretty funky, but all the things I needed were there. It cost NT$1,000.

Since the road to Taitung was closed, I had to rethink all of my plans, and it looked like the rational thing to do was just to cycle all the back to Tainan and then make new arrangements to get myself and the bike to Taipei by train. I’m hoping it won’t be a problem. The local train might be sold out, but I can always travel by High Speed Rail and send my bike by a normal train. That’s the plan anyway. I guess tomorrow I’ll ride the remaining distance back to Tainan, spend Friday in Tainan, and then take the train back to Taipei on Saturday. I had planned to return on Sunday, but I figured I would need more days to make the trip over the mountains. Oh, well. It has been a good trip anyway. For all the trouble I went through, it would have been better to get in more than five days of cycling, but there’s not much I can do about that.

Tags: bike, Canada, South Cross-Island Highway Trip, Taiwan, tent, train