#CyclingJourney

[minkahsieh]

Episode 1: Departure

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

---

Part 1: The Plan

Chapter 1: A Crazy Plan

The hardest part isn't the sheer distance—it's overcoming the fear of the unknown before taking the first step.

---

Departure - Germany, Day 0

With my freshly earned wages in hand, I stepped out of a Munich restaurant and embraced my colleagues at the door to say goodbye.

“Leaving tomorrow?�� Tamara asked.

“Yes, I got the bike yesterday. Starting tomorrow, I'll be exploring the world!” I replied.

“You're crazy, you know that, right?” Tamara said, gripping my hand. Then she added, “But you're also the best.”

Tamara, from Spain, was my closest colleague in the kitchen. We had an excellent working relationship, and she often said that our team, including the Mexican head chef, was unbeatable.

I had recently moved out of a small rental in the suburbs and stayed temporarily at a friend's place. Once everything was in place, I'd leave Munich, Germany, and embark on my journey home.

Some might call it a crazy plan: cycling from Germany, across Europe and Asia, all the way to Beijing before flying back to Taiwan. I called it “The 14,000-kilometer Back Home.”

To me, the plan itself wasn't crazy. What was crazy was my lack of funds to execute it. I'd been working tirelessly to save money, but as of now, I only had enough to sustain two months of travel. What about after that? I had no idea.

After exchanging a deep hug with Tamara and saying goodbye to the team, I headed home, my mind racing with thoughts of the next steps—washing clothes, organizing luggage, and sending any excess belongings back to Taiwan. But the exhaustion of the day hit me as soon as I walked in, and after barely managing to clean myself up, I collapsed into bed.

The next morning, I spent hours organizing my gear. By noon, I was still debating over a large shawl that had traveled with me to Australia and then to Germany. I couldn't imagine this cycling trip without it.

“It's too big,” I told myself.

“But it's so useful!” I argued back. I set the shawl aside for later and continued to sort my items. Soon, a pile of “deal with later” things grew on the floor.

No matter how many times I meticulously packed my saddlebags, like playing a game of Tetris, I could only fit half of what I wanted to bring. In the end, I stuffed in the absolute essentials, strapped the rest onto the bike haphazardly, and got ready to go.

I wrote an email to friends and family, telling them about my departure, took a commemorative photo, and set off. By the time I glanced at my phone, it was almost 3 PM. How had I wasted so much time?

I climbed onto the bike, gripping the handlebars tightly as the overloaded bike wobbled beneath me. Sweat beaded on my forehead. From this moment onward, the future was a complete unknown.

I took a turn onto the road I used for work every day and bid farewell to the familiar scenery. Yesterday, I was just a cheerful part-timer. Today, I had transformed into a long-distance cyclist on an epic journey across continents.

Where would I sleep tonight? What would my next meal be? What challenges would I face? What if I encountered danger or lost my gear? What would I do when my money ran out? I had no answers, and I wasn't sure I was prepared to find them.

As the reality of my route replaced the lines on my computer map, I felt like I was stepping from a game into a battlefield. It was clear: I wasn't ready—not in skills, knowledge, or even mindset.

The weight of my luggage caused my rear saddlebag to fall off with a loud clatter. A startled passerby stared at me as I struggled to keep the bike steady and retrieve my belongings.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” she asked kindly, handing me the bag.

“Thank you! I'm so sorry,” I replied, embarrassed.

I spent the next stretch of road repeatedly stopping to pick up fallen gear and reattaching it. Each stop increased my frustration and anxiety as the day grew darker. At one point, I found myself facing two barking dogs, their fierce growls echoing in the twilight. Overwhelmed, I burst into tears.

“Hey! I can't do this. I'm not capable of doing this! Everyone was right—this plan is too crazy. I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm terrified!” I shouted through my tears as I dialed the number of a friend who had offered me a place to stay in Munich.

“Min, calm down. Where are you?” he asked, alarmed.

“I don't know! I'm lost. Dogs are barking at me. I'm still in Munich, but I don't know where exactly!” I sobbed into the phone.

“Okay, okay. I understand. Come back here for now. We can talk about it when you get here,” he said gently.

Holding the phone in one hand, I stared into the encroaching darkness. Returning meant admitting defeat. I didn't want to give up so soon. But the confidence I had held just hours ago had evaporated. I looked down at the barking dogs, unable to find the words to continue.

“Fine,” I finally whispered into the phone.

And just like that, I failed—completely. My journey ended less than two hours after it began.

---

Closing Remarks: ✨ Your Turn: Starting a journey is often the hardest step. Have you ever experienced setbacks right at the beginning of something important? Share your story below!

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "The Birth of a Plan" Stay tuned!

[printpixiee]

Embrace the Journey on Two Wheels

Embrace the freedom of the open road and the thrill of the ride with our 'Embrace the Journey on Two Wheels' collection. Whether you're a seasoned cyclist or just starting out, our collection celebrates the joy of biking and the sense of adventure it brings. Life is a ride – embrace it on two wheels

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[luvinside]

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[cyclingwithjoy-blog]

fixie bike

[universallytimetravelpeanut-blog]

[bblythe-things-blog]

My bike: GIANT XTC-750 My trip begins from Sanyuan Bridge and it lasted for almost 20 days. Lugou Bridge. From Fangshan to Zhuozhou in Hebei Province. By way of Gaobeidian, Dingxing, Xushui Baoding. I rode 173 miles today and#

[sunne-journe-blog]

This may not seem like much to some, but this is most definitely a #smallvictory for me! The is my longest #distance (that I've actually recorded and timed) I've ridden I think.... ever! So I'm very happy for myself. I actually barely notice that it had actually been that far. A tip from a #newbie .... try listening to a podcast (like #therichrollpodcast ) while riding instead of music. I'm the first to say that I #love #workingout to #music but when you need to go farther and longer, a really good podcast can get you so caught up in the #conversation that you forget that you're #riding a #bike or some other #exercise like #running 😁 #cycling #bikeride #workout #fitness #fitnessjourney #cyclingjourney #richroll #podcast #plantbasedlife #veganlife #plantbasedjourney #veganjourney #healthjourney

[minkahsieh]

Episode 3: Three Things

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

--

Part 1: The Plan

Chapter 1: A Crazy Plan The hardest part isn’t the sheer distance—it's overcoming the fear of the unknown before taking the first step.

--

Three Things – Germany, DAY 2

The next morning, my friend had already left for work when I woke up. Feeling blank, I unpacked my gear and opened my laptop to message my close friend Kelly back in Taiwan.

“Hey, I failed,” I wrote.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” she replied with concern.

“I’m still in Munich. I’m so scared—I don't think I can do this,” I admitted.

I had no idea what to do next. Every choice seemed to lead to new challenges and endless difficulties.

“I don’t really know how to help you right now,” Kelly said after a pause, “but I recently saw this online: ‘People who accept failure make excuses, but those who succeed find ways to try again.’ I think you should stop overthinking. Pack up your laptop and set off again. The worst-case scenario is that you’ll end up right back where you started today. It won’t be any worse than that.”

I stared blankly at her message, then glanced at the gear scattered around me. Her advice didn't seem too hard to follow. Staying here wasn't going to solve anything. If I ended up crying while cycling back, so be it.

Following her instructions, I packed up my laptop, organized my gear, and hopped back on my bike. I pedaled south along the cycling path without looking back.

By nightfall, I reached the small town of Bad Tölz, south of Munich, without turning back.

The roadsides in Bad Tölz were pitch-black, with only scattered streetlights hinting at the direction of the road. I turned on all my lights, but they barely pierced the darkness. Not knowing where to camp, I ventured into a farm and asked if I could pitch my tent on the open ground by the barn.

A woman and her young son were eating dinner, but her wary eyes told me her answer before she spoke: no.

I moved on and tried asking a bald man with a beer belly. He also refused, not allowing me to camp on the ground behind the building. With little hope left, I knocked on the door of a small house and asked to pitch my tent in the tiny front yard.

A couple answered, followed by three curious children peeking out from behind them. The mother exchanged a few words with her husband in the local dialect, then nodded and said I could sleep on the wooden planks in the yard.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” I exclaimed in German, overwhelmed with gratitude. I wheeled my bike into the yard and leaned it against the fence, relieved to have found a place for the night.

Setting up my two-second tent, I created a small space to call my own. I had nicknamed this tent “The Big Frisbee.” When a friend promised to lend me a tent during my preparation phase, I hadn’t worried about it. But a week before departure, I found out the tent wasn’t available.

To save money, I quickly searched online and found a lightweight tent on eBay for just 50 euros. It was under one kilogram and promised to set up in two seconds. Without hesitation, I bought it.

When it arrived, however, I realized I had overlooked one crucial detail: the folded tent was the size of a bicycle wheel. It looked like a massive frisbee and didn't fit anywhere on the bike.

After testing several positions, I ended up strapping it to the side of the saddlebags. It looked awkward and ridiculous, like a giant plate wobbling on my bike. Yet, with no better option, I decided function mattered more than appearance.

While cycling, the tent would sometimes flap like a bird’s wings or slide behind the rear wheel, screeching loudly and forcing me to stop and adjust it. It was clunky and destroyed any sense of elegance I had imagined for my journey. But at that moment, as I set it up in just two seconds, I decided the Big Frisbee wasn't so bad. After all, it was my first night camping.

After unloading my gear, including two saddlebags and a quick-release bag from the bike rack, I placed everything inside the tent. The quick-release bag was just the right size for my sleeping bag and inflatable mat. That trio—bag, sleeping bag, and mat—had been my makeshift bed during my time in Munich when I rented an unfurnished room to save money. Now, they were repurposed for life on the road.

Satisfied, I crawled into the tent, inflated the sleeping mat, and spread out my sleeping bag. I had bought the mat on sale at an outdoor gear store in Munich. Who knew sleeping mats had seasonal discounts?

Lying inside, I reflected on how life had already prepared me for this journey. In my unfurnished room, I'd stacked banana boxes from the supermarket to serve as shelves and used another box as a table. In hindsight, I'd already been living like a traveler.

One saddlebag contained spare bike parts, including six inner tubes, tools, and patch kits, topped with clothes that took up more than half the space. The other saddlebag held a small stove I had tested once before departure, a pot just big enough for instant noodles, a book for entertainment, four colorful scented pens for children I'd meet in Central Asia, and toiletries. I had even packed a hairdryer, a hot water bottle, and makeup. I had plenty of reasons to justify their inclusion, though now they felt like luxuries.

I also brought a large black blanket, which I had crammed into the Big Frisbee before leaving. For dinner, I ate an energy bar from the quick-release bag, knowing it wasn't wise to cook instant noodles on someone else's front yard.

As I wrapped myself in the blanket and sleeping bag, I pulled out a notebook to jot down the events of the past two days. My body was exhausted, and the freezing air seeped into the tent. Even with my layers, including a discounted hat with chin straps, I couldn't stop shivering.

“Let's head south quickly. It must be warmer there,” I muttered to myself, teeth chattering.

The night was long and cold, but somehow, I endured it. At dawn, I heard the kids saying goodbye to their dad as he left for work, followed by the mother urging them off to school. I stayed in my sleeping bag, waiting for the house to quiet down before stepping out to pack.

When the mother returned from walking her kids to school, I had just finished packing.

“Thank you for letting me stay here,” I said in my clumsy German, trying to express my gratitude.

“You're welcome. Did you sleep well? We were so worried—it’s so cold outside,” she replied, her tone softening.

“Thank you! I'm fine, just a bit cold. I'm so grateful for your kindness,” I said, though in truth, I hadn't slept much.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked.

“If possible, I’d love some water—hot water, if you have it,” I said. My bottle was almost empty, and the cold was biting.

“Of course. Have you had breakfast? Would you like to come in for some hot tea?”

“Yes, please!” I answered quickly, abandoning all pretense of modesty.

I spent half an hour inside their warm house, savoring a cup of hot tea. The warmth felt like heaven. Though I wanted to stay forever, I knew better than to overstay my welcome. After explaining my journey, I thanked the mother and stepped back into the cold.

Standing on the road, I looked toward my next destination. For the first time, I felt genuinely excited. The road home was long, but as long as I packed my gear, mounted my bike, and pedaled forward each day, I'd keep moving toward my goal.

I took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. Although nothing had changed—my challenges remaind—I felt a newfound confidence. Yesterday, I had conquered a fear, and now I was ready for what lay ahead.

I had taken the first step, brimming with renewed energy.

“Let’s head toward the Alps!” I said to myself, smiling.

--

Closing Remarks:

✨ Your Turn: Packing for life’s biggest journeys isn’t just about gear—it’s about priorities. What essentials would you bring to take that first step? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Half the luggage

Departure commemorative photo

Bike path

First camp

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "Chapter 2 - Moving Toward the Alps"

[lisakeepitclean-blog]

Mallorca Recap... Learning something new about myself everyday...

Mallorca trip

I want to take a moment to document this trip.  I have been on many adventures in my life, but on this one, I learned something that cut deep into my core. This was the “perfect” trip for me. It was cycling in Mallorca Spain with a Professional Cyclist who happens to be my massage client. He is full of the type of energy that I desire to be around, and I knew the trip was going to be amazing and drama free. I was also given the opportunity to massage the cyclists on the tour so that was a plus in my book too!

I must admit, I was slightly intimidated with the group going. The group consisted of mostly men. There were only 2 other women besides me. Amy, who I know to be an exceptionally amazing cyclist, and Laura who I have never met, but had already decided that she was stronger than me.  Why did I do that? Why did I relinquish my strength to them? I did you know, before I left, tell myself “you are going to have a great time Lisa, you are not in competition with anyone, and you will simply do the best you can.” But, how could I? Do the best I could that is? I left for the trip by setting myself up for an easy way out before I ever even stepped onto the plane.  To put it simply, I did that because I was afraid I would fail. Now everyone has their own way of protecting themselves from failure. My most favorite method, as I have come to discover, is the power of positivity. If I simply stay positive and act like nothing ever bothers me, well then, I can’t fail, right? This way I never am required to  push myself beyond my own comfort zone. My ex-husband Sean always said “You are the only one I know that comes through the finish of an Ironman and looks like you could do another 10 miles. You don’t push yourself hard enough” At the time, I am sure I didn’t admit the truth in that statement, but after this trip I know he was right.

I got to Mallorca on the third day of the tour due to some prior commitments, so my first day on the bike was a recovery day for everyone else. They had already put in 2 hard days of climbing on the unforgiving hills in Mallorca. We did a nice easy 25-mile ride that left me craving more, so I went back out with Grant (the Pro who was running the group) later in the day for another 26-miles. I felt happy, positive, and confident.  I knew the next day was going to be 80-miles of some intense hills so I already prepared the group for my mediocrity.  I am an “endurance athlete” I said.  I can climb “forever”, but I am not fast! I made sure they all knew my bullshit excuse and hoped that they believed it more than I did.

The next day we got up bright and early and were on the road by 8:30 am. Even with the 5-hour time difference I felt awake, alive and ready for action. The ride was hard, but manageable. Grant put us into a paceline, and we were expected to ride as group in a rotating fashion. I held up for most of it, but had never worked that hard “before” a climb, so my self-doubt was kicked into bit of overdrive. After stopping at an amazing little café, we were ready for the first climb of the day. As we began our ascent, I once again reminded the group that I was the weakest one there, and that I would be climbing at my own pace. I told them not to worry about me, and that I would see them at the top. True to my word I put my music on, slipped it into the easiest gear, and spun my heart out. Honestly, it should have been hard, it could have been hard, but it wasn’t. It was long, but I wasn’t even out of breath.  I finally reached the top and the group gave me a little cheer. Everyone was so encouraging. It was a proud moment for me, or was it? What had I accomplished really? I climbed a hill at the slowest pace possible so that I was 100% positive that I would not fail? Where was the glory in that?

The thing that I love about life, is there is always room for improvement.  I don’t mean just physical improvement, I mean me. The real me. The one who lays awake at night nervous about the success of my career, raising decent children, being financially independent, exploring the world, and running out of time. Each day is an opportunity to learn something new about myself, and right there climbing a mountain in Mallorca Spain. I learned that I am afraid to fail. For if I fail then everyone might see the real me. The not so perfect me.

It was Grant Potter who came down the mountain to coach me up the rest of the way. He said, “Lisa, you’re so much stronger than this! Stop spinning so much, and use your gears. Get up and stand occasionally, put some effort into it. With your small size, you should be flying up these hills!”

 As a coach myself, I NEVER allow my clients the luxury of making excuses. I push them all to face their demons regardless of the fear they feel. I am constantly saying, “welcome fear as a passenger in your life but never let it drive you”. Yet there I was allowing fear to drive me right up that mountain. Sometimes you just need someone to point something out before you see it for yourself.  

It was like the skies had opened and the Gods were speaking to me. What was I doing? Why was I allowing myself the protection of not trying? What was I afraid of?

For the next 4 days, I worked hard. I was sore, but I was exhilarated. I was still one of the last to climb up the hills, but it was NOT because I didn’t put in my best effort!

I am now officially proud of myself. I had an amazing trip, and will never forget the genuine help I received from all the cyclists who attended.

It just goes to show, it doesn’t matter how much you teach, or how much you know, if you don’t apply it to your own life your words are meaningless.

I am always giving advice and I use the words “practice what you preach” a lot. This trip was a lesson learned. I learned that I am only human, that we are really all the same, and that everyone needs a little security to be the best that they can be.

Thank you for reading this story. Follow your dreams, passions, and pursuits. If something seems too easy, it’s is probably because it is! You’ve always got more in you than you think. Stop doubting yourself before you even begin. You’ve always got more! Your failures are the only way you can earn your successes. Explore every side of yourself. Even the scary parts. You’ll be happy you did.

Thank you, Grant Potter, and Amy Good. You two have the beginnings of something amazing and I am honored to have been part of your first camp in Spain.

·      Note- While I’m at it, I want to thank Amy Good for having that nutrition talk with me. Another discovery this weekend is that you cannot go out on an 80-mile ride with one water bottle and a Larabar. I guess that is another one of my “do as I say, not as I do” tricks. Yet another lesson learned. Eat, eat, eat!!!

[luvinside]

🚴🏻‍♀️🚴🏻‍♀️ Stay pretty stay healthy, stay cycling! 💃💋❤️💄 ..salam gowes 5000 kilo dari Magelang 😁😝💪🤘✨ #cyclingjourney #cyclingjournal #cyclingstories #cyclingpic #womencyclingcommunity #womencycling #cyclinglikeapro #cyclinglikeaprincess #travelsemarang #travelblogger #travelblog #travelphotography #travelindonesia #haornas2017 #rekormuri2017 #storyof5000kmride

[cyclingwithjoy-blog]

cycling trip 

[minkahsieh]

Episode 2: The Birth of a Plan

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

---

Part 1: The Plan

Chapter 1: A Crazy Plan

The hardest part isn't the sheer distance—it's overcoming the fear of the unknown before taking the first step.

--

The Birth of a Plan – Germany, DAY 1

With a tear-streaked face and snot running from my nose, I returned to my friend's place. I dismantled all my gear and carefully checked the instructions I had tossed out earlier that morning, searching for the reason why my saddlebag had fallen off.

“Ah, I installed the hooks backward!” I shouted as I discovered the issue. It felt good to blame the hooks for everything. After fixing the problem, I climbed into the same bed I had said goodbye to earlier, pulled the covers over my head, and lay awake in the dark.

I had come to Germany on a working holiday, hoping to experience a broader life. Six months in, I began planning my way back to Taiwan. Flying felt too conventional, so I considered taking trains, hitchhiking, or even walking. Cycling only became an option much later.

When I first shared the idea with friends, I used tentative words like “maybe” and “possibly.” Over time, those words turned into “I plan” and “I will.” Eventually, I declared, “I'm going to cycle from Germany, across the Silk Road, to Beijing, and then return home to Taiwan.”

Now, after taking the first step, I had already turned back. Lying in the dark, I was filled with frustration and helplessness. I wanted to lash out but didn't know who to blame.

Throughout my life, I had often felt like I had no choice—forced to follow a path dictated by circumstances. Now, wasn't I being forced by my lack of money to rush into this journey unprepared? This wasn't a choice either, I thought.

Staring at the ceiling, I recall my mother's words when I was 15, just after I graduated from middle school: “From now on, you'll attend night school like your two sisters. You'll work during the day and study at night. That's the only way to support yourself.”

Growing up in a financially struggling household, my siblings and I had to contribute to the family after middle school. I gave up my love for art and enrolled in a random technical course at night school while hunting for daytime jobs. Being under 16, I faced legal restrictions that made it difficult to find employers willing to hire me.

A thought had lodged in my heart during those years: “This is the hand I've been dealt. I must accept it without complaint. I'll work hard, earn lots of money, live in a big house, drive a nice car, and give my mom a better life.”

After seven years of night school, I graduated with enough work experience to land a job I liked. I worked hard to improve life for myself and my family. But three years in, long hours and stress took a toll on my health, forcing me to change careers.

My second older sister introduced me to the idea of a working holiday in Australia. With no better options, I flew there to broaden my horizons despite not knowing English. The first six months were tough, but I adapted. The real challenge was internal—learning a different set of values that deeply shook my worldview.

Money, which had once been my sole pursuit, no longer seemed to define life's purpose. But without that goal, what was left? I began searching for new meaning and direction.

Did I find the answer by lying here in my friend's home in Munich? I didn't know. Maybe there wasn't an answer. Perhaps the question itself was flawed, like this cycling plan—a huge mistake from the start. How could a wrong question ever lead to the right result?

I didn't want to chase money anymore, yet it was the lack of money that kept chasing me. I wanted to live a life that felt meaningful and right, but no matter how hard I tried, I always seemed to fall short of that goal.

---

Closing Remarks:

✨ Your Turn: Sometimes, when things fall apart, it's the beginning of something better. Have you ever rebuilt after a failure?

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "Three Things "

-When I worked in Munich (Right)-

[luvinside]

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[luvinside]

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[luvinside]

S̲t̲i̲c̲k̲ w̲i̲t̲h̲ t̲h̲e̲ p̲e̲o̲p̲l̲e̲ w̲h̲o̲ p̲u̲l̲l̲ t̲h̲e̲ m̲a̲g̲i̲c̲ o̲u̲t̲ o̲f̲ y̲o̲u̲ n̲o̲t̲ t̲h̲e̲ m̲a̲d̲n̲e̲s̲s̲ 🗺🌴🚤☁️ #cyclingislife #cyclingliketheresnotomorrow #lifeisshort #lifeisgood #lifelikevacation #cyclinglife #cyclinglove #cyclingjourney #cyclingadventurer #cyclingasia #cyclingonthego #cyclingmania #cyclingfornature #cyclingjournal #cyclingwithpassion #cyclingwithbestfriends #cyclingadventure #travelblogger #travelphotography #travelinglife #travelersnotebook #travelgirl #travelasia2017 #traveltofindpeace #traveltofindyoursoul #traveltofindyourself