A Man and his Motorcycle Part 1

On Sunday, July 19th, I set out with nothing more than a backpack stuffed with a few t-shirts, one pair of jeans and shorts, fresh sets of socks and underwear, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, an atlas of Taiwan's roads and, most importantly, intrepidity. For on that clear, hot morning, I loaded my bag onto my 125 CC Honda Wolf Motorcycle and took off for an eight day journey around the island. It was to be my first trip on my bike more than a few hours outside of Taipei, and with 1,820 kilometers of open road stretched ahead of me, there was little I could do but wonder- what did this journey have in store for me?

The first stretch of road took me to Ilan, just about two hours outside of Taipei along the East Coast. A simple drive to the Pingling mountains of Southern Taipei County, I arrived in small hot spring village of Jiaosi where I booked a hotel and decided to stay there for the night. That afternoon, I was meeting a group of friends of mine at an aboriginal Rain festival held at a park called Wulaokeng. Dotted with water slides, natural river rafting, pristine walkways, and summer fun, it was an enjoyable location to spend some time with friends on a hot summer afternoon.


The highlight of the celebration was a concert that included a well skilled drumming group from Korea. Their beats were rhythmically tight. It was an astonishing display of musical prowess, precise timing, and energetic perseverance. The Korean drumming group was accompanied by some eloquent, traditional Chinese dances.


Following the concert, my friends returned back to Taipei where I returned back to my hotel in Jaiosi. I stopped for some dumplings and a soup, but they were dry and relatively tasteless. I decided to make it a mission to try soup dumplings wherever I went on this trip and rank them. These dumplings were obviously last place. After dinner, I retired to bed for an early start the next day.

The first real leg of my journey began on the second day out of Ilan. It was an early morning, and the weather was acceptable. I veered off of the coastal route for some mid-island mountain driving. Going down route seven was an easy mountain road to follow for the most part. Sparsely traveled meant I had enormous lengths of excellent driving conditions all to myself. The road began by following a wide valley dotted with numerous cabbage farms. It was a unique blend of blue skies, rocky outcrops, and little green dots lining the road side.


It wasn't long before the farmlands were behind me and the road started to climb. In low gears, I was soon driving through a cold cloud as my elevation rose and rose. Before long, however, the cloud broke away and I was back in the sunlight of Taiwan's pristine weather. However, the scenery changed dramatically at this point. No longer was I in the tropical splendor of southeast Asia, but instead I was biking through some of Taiwan's lesser known alpine climates! It felt as if cool wind from the Alps were blowing against my face rather than typhoon-laced winds of the South Pacific.


Nevertheless, the surroundings were outstanding. Little stands occasionally set up along this road, particularly in the rural villages, were selling freshly picked peaches and plums that would explode on one bite. Then, you could suck out the very juices and embrace the fact that what your eating could not be any more natural, wild or organic even if you tried.

Before long, route seven linked up with route 8, which makes up the eastern corridor of the Central Cross Highway (one of three highways that crosses through the central of the island, the other two being the Northern Cross Highway and the Southern Cross Highway which made up a portion of my trip). This highway was outstanding. The road wound and turned, through clouds and sun, through forests and over cliffs. At times, there was nothing stopping you from making one wrong turn and plummeting into the gorge below. Tunnels were carved right through the rock faces, but these tunnels are not the tunnels we think of today that are nicely finished with concrete and lighting. These were like mining caves that had no smooth finish to them. They were dark as they had no lighting and they leaked with water constantly. Needless to say, driving through one of these tunnels required a calm demeanor and a keen sense so you wouldn't hit the very dark walls.


Eventually, the winding road took course along a very recognizable feature in Taiwan- Taroko Gorge. The majority of tourists start out in Hualien and drive up into the gorge. Not me, I was starting at its source- at its highest elevation where the gorge was youngest and least developed. It was a unique perspective, to watch this gorge deepen as the kilomoters flew past me.


Before long, I was in Taroko Gorge National Park proper, with which we are all very familiar from my previous posts. The river ran like a vein cut deep into the earth with massive waterfalls and tributaries contributing to its impressive glory. The weather turned a bit disagreeable at this point, so I pushed through most of the park quite quickly and into Hualien.


I stopped for some delectable wonton-esque soup called Bianshi. I am not sure how they improve upon it, but they do an excellent job with it. I think they put a little bit of vinegar in it, which explodes the flavor, so now I always add vinegar to all of my wonton experiences. I followed up with some soup dumplings but was again very disappointed.

I hit a local popular bar where I met some very delightful teachers from Korea, chatted with them for some bit, and then hit the sack for an early departure the next day.

From the cabbage farmer of Taiwan, Michael.