It’s surprising, given how many foreign velocipedists say they’ve been profoundly inspired by Taiwan, that so few cycling-focused English-language books about the country have appeared. Online booksellers list almost nothing apart from Mark Tovell’s Taiwan: Roads Above the Clouds (“A ‘love letter to Formosa,’” reviewed April 25, 2024). This new offering, however, goes quite a long way to making up that deficit.
Compiled by a couple from that great cycling nation, the Netherlands, this guide describes 50 numbered routes around the country. The authors — who recently completed PhDs at Taiwanese universities — have made a commendable effort to give each region its due: N1 to N11 are north of Hsinchu County; W1 to W10 are in the west (a grouping of counties that others might refer to as “Central Taiwan”; E1 to E10 are in and around Hualien; S1 to S10 are in the south (which in this book includes Taitung and its islands, plus Penghu County); while X1 to X9 are seasonable or otherwise special routes.
The shortest route is S6, a 20km circumnavigation of Green Island. The longest is X5, a “spicier version of the classic North-South Taiwan Lighthouse Challenge (一日雙塔).” The Chinese name of that annual event translates as “one day, two lighthouses,” as riders try to cover the 520km within 28 hours. The van Onselens sensibly advise those thinking of taking their modified route from Fugui Cape Lighthouse (富貴角燈塔) in the north to Eluanbi Lighthouse (鵝鑾鼻燈塔) in the south “to set aside at least five days to fully enjoy” its 700km. During this epic pedal, they’ll need to climb through Yangmingshan National Park (陽明山國家公園), tackle the North Cross-Island Highway (北橫公路), and go up and over Highway 23 for total elevation gains of 8,500m. Most of the book’s other routes are between 100km and 150km in length.
Because color photos accompany each outline, directions and brief coverage of highlights is for many of the routes compressed into less than 400 words. The authors do as good a job as can be expected given the space available. The text is clear in both senses of the word: the font is highly readable, while the wording is uncomplicated and to the point.
The same can’t be said for the maps, unfortunately. They’re attractive yet the place names are too small for comfortable reading. For each route, however, there’s a QR code through which you can download a map. This saves you the trouble of squinting, as well as the modest weight of the actual book if you prefer to travel ultralight. Every entry comes with Google Maps Plus Codes for three or four points of interest, typically one of which is a place where riders can find coffee, ice cream and other restoratives.
The introductory chapter of A Cyclist’s Guide to Taiwan rightfully praises Taiwan’s roads for being “impressively well-maintained, even in the most remote mountain areas.” But there’s no mention of feral dogs, even though most regular riders say they’ve had to speed up to get away from aggressive canines. I was also surprised that the writeup for W7 — from Shuili (水里) in Nantou County to Tataka (塔塔加) inside Yushan National Park — fails to warn cyclists that gravel trucks can make the lower part of the New Central Cross-Island Highway (新中橫公路) a scary place for those on two wheels.
W9 connects Chiayi City with Alishan (阿里山) via Provincial Highway 18, which is the road used by all tour buses and public buses as well as the majority of private vehicles. Having been up that way many times (but never by bicycle, I’ll admit), I’d recommend taking the narrower and much quieter Road 159A (159甲) as far as Shihjhuo (石棹), and only using Highway 18 for the final 26km when there’s no alternative. In the pages of this newspaper, Michael Turton called 159A “the prettiest road on the island” (“Cover your eyes: the Tourism Bureau is at it again” Sep. 6, 2021). Overall, however, it’s hard to find fault with the selection of routes.
The book says cyclists can find information about road closures and traffic conditions on the Web site of the Freeway Bureau. This has to be a mistake, as bikes aren’t allowed on freeways or expressways. Around two years ago, the official English name of what A Cyclist’s Guide to Taiwan calls the East Rift Valley (花東縱谷) was changed to the East Longitudinal Valley (which is correct; it’s not a true rift valley).
Some of the references to government units are out of date. Taiwan Railway Administration (TRA) is now Taiwan Railway Corp (TR). The Tourism Bureau has been upgraded to the Tourism Administration, and the Central Weather Bureau likewise promoted to Central Weather Administration. Perhaps only civil servants — or individuals, like this reviewer, who spend part of each workweek proofreading government publications — will notice or care. Everyone else should find this guide useful and/or inspirational. It might even spur the writing of a few more Taiwan cycling books.
A Cyclist’s Guide to Taiwan is available at several bike stores around the country and can be ordered online. See: onsgo.org for details.
It seems every few days one bumps into one of those “real man” comments in which Taiwan is urged to “face reality” or similar, and “make a deal,” with the speaker implying that soon it will be too late. “Deal” advocates always present themselves as having a superior grip on reality, and the manly ability to make the “hard choice.” Their testosterone-laden language often echoes that of Taiwan sellout advocates. Note that such commentary always specifies a process (“make a deal, work with, make progress”), never the end state of what occupation by a violent authoritarian colonialist state will entail. In
There are shadowy cabals plotting to sell out Taiwan to be annexed by China, by invasion if necessary. Fortunately, they are buffoons. In 2019, former Bamboo Union gangster and founder of the China Unification Promotion Party (CUPP), Chang An-le (張安樂, colorfully known as “White Wolf”), led a protest at the Legislative Yuan against comments made by then-premier Su Tseng-chang (蘇貞昌) that in the event of an attack by China, he would never surrender, but would protect the nation by fighting to the end, even if he only had a broom. Chang had party members bring a wooden casket that they
June 1 to June 7 "If all Taiwanese were as afraid of dying as you, then what would happen?” Physician Shih Chiang-nan (施江南) reportedly said this to his wife Chen Chiao-tung (陳焦桐) after she urged him to stop intervening on behalf of Taiwanese soldiers stranded overseas after serving in the Japanese Army during World War II. Shih had clashed with high-ranking officials over the issue, engaged in several heated arguments with Taiwan governor-general Chen Yi (陳儀) and allegedly shouted at general Ko Yuan-fen (柯遠芬), chief of staff of the Taiwan Garrison Command, over
Food prices have often played a major role in Taiwan’s history. The first major wave of migration from China occurred in 1628. A moderate drought, the Ming Dynasty maritime ban that prohibited fishing and trading (intended to reduce piracy) and a temporary tax, conspired to exhaust local resources, leading to famine in Fujian Province. The famed pirate and trader Zheng Zhilong (鄭芝龍), scooped up starving people from Fujian and transported them across the Taiwan Strait, where they settled under the Dutch. Two factors enabled Zheng. First, by 1624 he had settlements around today’s Beigang (北港) in Yunlin County with a small