All Saints: Cabanatuan to Baler

Nov. 1, 2014. 730am. An ominous start: Jollibee had no eggs, gravy or coffee. Then they completely shut off their breakfast menu. Flat roads then we saw the mountains in the distance.

Baler is over these mountains.

3 or 4 mountain passes. I’m not quite sure anymore. Road uphills are fine. It was when we hit the gravel roads that I struggled.

So we climbed. And climbed. Every bend brought more uphills. When will this end? I tried not to think about how I was feeling. I mean I knew I could still take some more climbing but really, could I? There was no power left in my legs. My friends were some 20, 50 then 100 meters ahead of me. It’s never a race, but there’s always a deadline.

Get your headlamps ready. 

San Luis was 60 more kilometres away. And after San Luis, it's 16 kilometers to Baler. There was no end to this climbing. We were supposed to reach Baler before nightfall. Was that even possible?

Not a race, not a race. No need to mash your pedals. Why was I so damn slow? 

I’ve run out of conversations with myself. I mean, my head and I can only say so much to each other. But talking to my friends wasn’t a possibility either. They were too far or if I caught up with them, all I could do was muster a grunt in reply to their questions. 

Anything flat please. Just no more uphills. Have mercy. My arms and this rigid fork and too hard tires were killing me. Oh my legs too.

Flats! A waterfall. Running water. Cool off. Ride again. Repeat. 

Mercy! Downhill. Glorious glorious glorious downhill. Loose gravel, tight turns, don’t care. Don’t matter. 

Then wait. Uphill again.

The beginning of the end was when we saw Arce waiting for us at the road. It’s all downhill from here, he says.

Those yellow kilometre markers speed by too quickly. Why did they seem so far away? 

It’s usually when the end is near that we go crazy. 16 kilometres of flats. Why flats? This was what I wanted right? Endless spinning. 

530pm. We made it. Fist bumps everywhere. Lots of food, alcohol and sugar. The rest of the days passed by in a blur. We got on our bikes and rode some more. We tried to surf. We ate and drank some more. We met up with friends in the area. We joined a kids party.

The bus ride back to Manila was uneventful. It was comfy and cushy. They gave you a blanket, a snack and some water. I could never get comfortable. The air-conditioning was too cold. I found myself thinking of the bike in the bus cargo and wanting to ride again.