Disclaimer: the details depicted in the following story were carried out by professional stuntmen and those partial to a tipple. Don’t try this at home!

Stories of heroic feats in cycling usually end in jubilation and a champagne shower. Somewhat unusually, our story starts the other way round with two bottles of whisky and sake and ends 160 km later in Taichung’s rush hour.

First things first, we should make it clear that we weren’t in Taiwan to ride road bikes. We came here to visit the world’s second-biggest bike manufacturer MERIDA for our sister magazine E-MOUNTAINBIKE to document the development of their new eMTB. We followed said bike from production to meetings with suppliers, all the way to a beautiful work-recovery ride in the western part of Taiwan’s Chungyang Central Mountain Range. Perhaps it was bad timing, but this ride just happened to take place right after a long, somewhat boozy meeting with a supplier… so on this note, here’s a shout out to Skinny Frank from MAXXIS who didn’t have to go riding with us the following day!

A recovery ride with a hangover

Meetings with suppliers in many Asian countries often can behard work (unless you’re a closet alcoholic or consider drinking beer at the Oktoberfest an important part of your training). Alongside the drinking (and buttering up business partners), they tend to revolve around nailing down intricate terms and conditions. If you can still demonstrate an aptitude for maintaining trustworthy business-minded credibility under the influence of alcohol, you’ll do very well here. Of course, even the Romans recognised this. “In vino veritas”, right?

After our long-haul flight and a handful of fascinating yet intense days in the MERIDA factory, we pencilled in a leisurely ride to Sun Moon Lake as the final stop of our work trip. The 6 am start had sounded totally fine until the invitation arrived for dinner with MAXXIS. Hard to refuse though when MERIDA had hooked us with road bikes, a route, and a support car for the occasion.

The boozy dinner ended with a nightcap under an umbrella and we achieved a grand total of four hours sleep until the alarm went off for our so-called recovery ride. Goddamnit. I didn’t need a breathalyser to know my blood-alcohol levels were over the limit. Who’s idea was this again? Oh well, a deal was a deal. We met MERIDA’s sales manager Frank and marketing manager Cash, who both seemed remarkably fresh despite having participated in the very same dinner. Oh, that’s right, they had (tactically) avoided the drinking last night.

Well, we quickly accepted that our “recovery” ride would be better christened as a hangover ride. Our parents wouldn’t be the only ones to curse if they knew what we’d been up to. Our GPs would probably have had some words as well. But you can sweat out alcohol from your system right?

After a rocky start (including inside-out Rapha bib shorts) we finally got going. The roads were quiet, which was a bonus, but we were faced with a gruelling 25 km climb from the very start in high humidity. Any unsuspecting riders tailing us would have been enveloped in a cloud of evaporating alcohol fumes. Today wasn’t about shedding pounds, it was about steaming away last night’s excesses.

Miraculously we settled into a rhythm, letting the fresh breeze clear our minds. After the first 10 km I felt (somewhat) sufficiently coordinated to take some photos. Each metre of smooth tarmac made our hearts beat a little quicker and our limbs became that bit more lively as we made sweaty progress up the road. The landscape helped: rich, green scenery doused in an early morning mist, with temples on the side of the road and pineapple and ginger growing on the fields. Where else would we get to see this?

At 30 km we pulled up outside a Buddhist temple. Time for incense and a quick prayer. Ours largely involved surviving the day and getting back in one piece to the hotel. It didn’t help much as you’ll find out later. But, as you’re reading this article, penned by yours truly, you might have an inkling that I’m still alive. So in part it worked… I guess.

Directly opposite the temple was a DT Swiss pop-up store. Its presence didn’t surprise us. Riding in Taiwan tends to be done on the slickest, priciest kit and the newest bikes. Why? Well, this is the nation where so many brands produce their products. You wouldn’t be far off the mark to call Taiwan the unofficial centre of the global bicycle industry.

Designed for racing, used inadvisably for sobering up: the MERIDA Reacto. While it’s not officially designated a sobering-up machine, it clearly works well. Watch out for those deep rims though, don’t let the wind get the better of your distracted mind.

Our goal: We were riding up to the famous Sun Moon Lake, Taiwan’s biggest inland lake. It lies at 760 metres above sea level and takes its name from its unusual shape – at one end it’s a crescent moon, at the other it resembles the sun.

Snow in the jungle and ill-chosen papaya milk

After riding past Oolong tea plantations, which we’d also drank during a meeting the previous day with William Jung, MERIDA’s Senior Vice President, we got a flatter section in the road before the final 25 km uphill surge. The landscape continued to change, looking more and more jungle-esque with each kilometre climbed.

Then came a dark tunnel that spat us out on the other side to what looked like snow. It baffled us. Snow in this heat? But we were wrong: it’s peak season for blossom!

With throbbing heads and dripping brows, we finally reach the lake but instead of the direct route to the restaurant for lunch, we opt for a short detour. After all, we’ve made it this far so we should probably have a proper look at the whole lake. We pause briefly and I decide it’s the perfect moment for that papaya milk I’d brought earlier at the 7-Eleven. Marketing manager Cash has accompanied us with a support car this far, so I drop back to grab it and hastily gulp down the exotic drink.

The final stretch to lunch quickly goes downhill, both on the the road and in my stomach. My body indignantly rejects the papaya milk. I sit down in the restaurant but can’t face eating anything. “I think I’m going to vomit,” I mutter to my riding buddies. “Just do it” Rey responds. The restaurant owner leads me into the back, through the lounge and into a bathroom. I get it done, and eye up the shower – I’m so hot at this point that a drenching of cold water is insanely appetizing. I return to the table somewhat more refreshed with wet hair. Still in a trance, I rejoin the group and down half a can of Coca-Cola, hoping that I’ll manage the rest of the ride. I’m ok – well, for five minutes before the next time I have to be sick.

It’d be pathetic of me to put the blame for my incomplete ride on the papaya milk, but it certainly didn’t help. I’ll make my excuses now and say that my body’s decision to pack it in probably wasn’t helped by the milk but was definitely caused by the night before, too little sleep, and the oppressive headache-causing heat. Giving up doesn’t sound very heroic but when your body is in shutdown, it’s definitely sensible to listen to the warning signs before anything worse happens.

AC and anxiety

The shadows lengthened. I’d been in the air-conditioned car for a while now. What time was it? Early evening, I guessed. I must have been asleep for two hours. All I’d really registered had been the accusations I’d thrown at myself for giving up. “Why couldn’t you just keep on pedalling?” “Are you that much of a wimp?” I tried to placate myself, telling myself that everyone has to give sometime. Where’s the shame in that? I’m not riding to impress anyone.

Finish line excitement: a friendly one-fingered greeting for the guy with the camera that gave up prematurely.

As my strength slowly returned, I tried to stay optimistic that Cash, who was driving the car, hadn’t heard my snoring (he most definitely had!). From my vantage point in the car, something caught my attention. My brother Max – demonstrating fine form – was setting the pace at the front of the group. The only issue was that Taichung was resolutely staying a few kilometres away on the horizon. The guys put their heads down and powered on, finally reaching the big city at rush hour. They dismounted in front of the hotel, exhausted, and I mutely got out the car for a quick high-five. The relief was palpable – our prayers had been answered.

It’s arguable whether you want to class this story as a hero’s tale, but who cares. Some sort of crass mixture of madness and heroics is one way of summing it up. One thing’s for sure: retelling it on your next bar crawl is a surefire way to lift the mood. But we sincerely hope you won’t suffer the same fate on your next “recovery ride”.

PS: This story has been written for the sake of entertainment. Drinking and riding is not advisable. This story is the product of the author’s imagination and was created using professional stuntmen in a Bollywood studio with photo-realistic wallpaper. But whatever, if you like the sound of the route that never happened and are heading to Taiwan, then click this link.


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Words & Photos: Robin Schmitt