You know that moment when your brain says, “Hey, remember that terrible road you swore never to ride again? Let’s do it today!”
That was me. After a long day at the office, instead of taking my usual (boring) route home, I decided to reunite with my old nemesis—the 6 km off-road torture track I abandoned a year ago. Why? Because suffering builds character… or something.
The Two-Hour Commute Dilemma
Now, before you judge, let me clarify: my normal route also takes 2 hours round trip. The difference? One is a smooth, uneventful ride where I zone out and question my life choices. The other is a full-body workout disguised as a bike ride.
Guess which one I picked today?
1.5 Km of Pure Regret
The first stretch was like riding a bull made of rocks. My bike bounced around like it was auditioning for a stunt show. My arms? Gone numb. My back? Questioning its life decisions. My brain? Screaming, “WE HAD A GOOD THING GOING!”
But just when I thought my spine would collapse into dust, salvation appeared—the Jamune Hanging Bridge. It swayed gently, as if laughing at me. “Oh, you survived? Cute.”
The Tree That’s Definitely Plotting Against Me
Past the bridge, I met my old frenemy—the tree that looks like it’s one sneeze away from crushing me. Every time I pass it, I speed up just in case today’s the day it finally snaps. Spoiler: It didn’t. But it’s definitely biding its time.
The Silent Forest (A.K.A. “Where Did All the People Go?”)
Next up: the dense, eerily quiet forest. No birds, no people, just the sound of my own nervous laughter. “Wow, so peaceful!” I whispered, fully expecting a ghost to whisper back, “Join us.”
The New Pitched Road (A Trap)
Just when I thought nature had humbled me enough, the gods of irony threw in a brand-new smooth road. “Oh, how nice!” I thought, relaxing for exactly 30 seconds before remembering—the Fusre Khola Hanging Bridge was still ahead.
The Bridge of Doom
This bridge is so narrow, I’m pretty sure it was designed by someone who hates bikers. One wrong twitch, and you’re taking an unplanned swim. I crossed it with the grace of a newborn giraffe. Success? Barely.
Home. Finally.
I collapsed at home, covered in dust and regret. My legs felt like jelly, my bike looked traumatized, and my ego? Shattered.
So, Was It Worth It?
For adventure? 100%. The thrill, the struggle, the questionable life choices—all worth it.
For the office commute? Absolutely not. Why?
- Same 2-hour round trip, but now I also need a chiropractor.
- My bike now hates me.
- I’m pretty sure that tree is still plotting my demise.
Final Verdict
Will I do it again? Of course. Will I pretend it’s a good idea for daily commuting? Not a chance.
Some roads are best left for weekends—when you have time, energy, and a strong will to suffer for fun.