Laguna Loop

C5, 4:30AM meet time

Pila Laguna, probably 60 km later

L-R: Jof, Dennis, Gary - who reconned this route 2 days before

Greg and Art, the guys who wouldn't leave me behind

Lunch venue

Started climbing to the town of Mabitac. Gave up, climbed into support vehicle soon after.

Pre-mature recovery meal. Note my own bite mark before thinking of taking a photo.

Quick flat fix.

Been taking advantage of this gap between Christmas and New Year to get some kilometers in.

This Laguna ride was two days ago. Had I completed it, I would biked 180++ kilometers for around 8 or 9 hours. I gave up on the climb, which came at kilometer 114. But got on again for an awesome downhill run. Felt dirty finding pleasure in something I didn't completely work for, but no judgement from this group, haha.

It's a great bunch, and I feel lucky to have been invited on this ride that allowed me to see Laguna, and the bay, in another way. It's been a couple of days and I'm still thinking about the whole thing, and about how, only half a year ago, I would have never thought of doing all this.

I'm really happy. Haha.

Sierra Madre

en route to Sierra Madre

turn around point

Attempted to ride up the Sierra Madre today. My first time. That's around 25 km from Cabading where I met up with the rest of our group. I did okay, but I think I slowed the group down. By the time I got to where everyone was resting at kilometer 15 - after, what, 14 kilometers of climbing - it was midday, hot, and we were hungry.

We turned our bikes around, and headed to Mang Vic's where the bulalo is awesome. I should probably do this climb in parts, wear the same outfit, and pretend I did it all in a day.

One of those few occasions when I like both the song, the music video... and the parody video.

Almost exactly a month ago, I dropped by Ave Maldea's workshop in Cainta to have a steel road frame built for myself. Despite looking past my shoulder, and looking this intense, Ave, Manila's famous custom frame builder, is a genuinely nice guy. You get straightforward answers for your questions, and with his years of experience, his opinion makes a lot of sense.

I brought my dad's Colnago C40 for him to measure up, since it was my exact size. We agreed to tighten the head tube angle a little, and slightly lengthen the headtube so I don't have to stoop over so low while trying to lose this huge gut.

That's my 55.5cm (toptube) frame he's holding. I picked it up this morning. My friend, Toto, came along. Turns out, Ave used to work for Toto's uncle's old bike shop in Magallanes. The same bike shop Dante, my dad's favorite wrench, worked at 20 years ago. Ave and Dante know each other, and they also know, Medy, the guy doing the paint job on my bike. It's a bit cool meeting and getting to know these grizzled, wise men of biking.

Below is a photo of my frame and fork at Medy's shop car body shop in Makati. I brought it there straight from Ave's shop. I had to decide how orange I wanted this bike to be. I almost picked a yellow-orange mix but decided to go full orange. This is major for me. I'm the guy whose default t-shirt color of choice is black.

I should get it back before the new year. There's no rush. I don't have the money to buy the components anyway. I haven't quit my day job. Hire me. I still take pictures for a living.

I know this is silly, and I’m sorry to be one of those guys. But my bike in afternoon lighting. Taken with instagram. Haha.

Look who discovered instagram. Haha.

Last Wednesday was Bonifacio Day and it seemed as if everyone biked out. Our group rode out at around 630am from Eastwood. We got on Marcos Hi-way, up to Cogeo and Boso-Boso, and connected to Mt. Maarat and Timberland via the Roxas route. The plan was to descend from there and have lunch in Marikina.

It took us almost the whole morning to get up to Timberland, and I have no doubt that I slowed the group down. I was the newbie but these guys I biked with were great. The group had a relaxed, easy feel. The sense of humor was sharp, and everyone was supportive.

Being the guy trailing everyone else, I made friends with the sweepers, Art and Greg, - these hilarious, wrinkled men in their late 50s with legs of steel, and who'd smoke while I took my frequent, long rests. Great guys, I immediately added them up on Facebook when I got home. Haha.

The sun was out, but it wasn't burning. The wind was a gentle breeze. And it was epic, for the most part.

I learned a bunch of things on this ride. First, I can endure long, gradual climbs - and this gave me confidence. Two, I die in short, steep climbs - confidence crushed. Three, descents scare the shit out of me - self-doubt replaced by naked fear. And four, I'm not too shabby at changing flats.

I know this fourth one because at the end of this one glorious descent (see third photo), the road sweeps right, then makes a quick left, where on the elbow of the curve, there sits a huge crack/hole in the middle of the road. Right on the line I wanted to take on the left turn.

I saw it, but couldn't go around it. I hit it hard, bounced in the air, managed to stay upright, and recovered. I blew my tire and this nice dude, Buboy helped me change my flat.

We made it to Timberland, made it through the off road bit, and began, as planned, our descent down to Rizal, on the way to lunch in Marikina. However, this downhill ride is where fear was planted in my heart. It was just too fast, too steep, and way beyond my skill set. It was as if, even after every quick squeeze on the brake levers, I was about to reach terminal velocity again. After managing to slow down the bike to a creeping halt, I gingerly got off it, and decided to walk down until I got to a flatter part of the road.

It was so steep that even walking down was difficult. My toes were pushing down on the inside of my shoes. The bike was pulling me down and out of balance. I called our support vehicle (my car and driver), who was waiting for us on The Wall - as they call this part of the road up to Timberland. As I loaded the bike into the car, an ambulance passed me by coming down from the top. As I was rounding the bend, I saw my group standing around, bikes were on the ground. I saw my friend Jun, the guy who invited me to this group, waving his arms in the air.

I didn't really look into the ditch that our guy crashed into. So I didn't realize it at first, but it was Buboy in there, the guy who helped me change my tire. The paramedics had to figure out a way to pull him out. Since I had a car, I carried his bike, and for awhile, his helmet - bloodied and in pieces. The ambulance ran off, and we regrouped at the nearby biker's cafe. I threw away the helmet.

After resorting to gallows humor to cope, the group eventually got its collective wits together and decided to bike to the hospital. I chose to say goodbye and separated from the group to head to the church where some of the bikers I know attend. I left Buboy's bike there. I spent part of the drive home calling everyone I knew. I was alive and I wanted to know if they were too.

Word spread around the next day that Buboy was discharged, and all he had to take with him from this crash were bruises. CT scans and X-rays showed for negative injuries or breaks. Fucking crazy.

Anyway, the group wants to ride from Manila to the Pacific Ocean via Quezon Province early next year. I'm already signed up.

Bill Walton's wife

God, the NBA is still locked out and I can hardly remember the euphoria of last year's post season. I seem to remember it being full of close games, incredible upsets and moments of glory. Sometimes I wonder if I would have ever taken up cycling if the NBA season started on time. Quite possibly, instead of sweating up and down Daang Hari, I would be where I am now - sitting in front of my computer, figuring out my fantasy league draft strategy.

Anyway, I miss you NBA. I hope you gaziillionaires figure it out and let us fans in on the fun. In the meantime, and even when the lockout ends, I will be enjoying my time on the bike.

This morning, I woke up to a bleak, rainy morning. But by noon, the weather settled down to being cloudy witha light drizzle here and there. I suited up and went on my JP Rizal to Heritage Park route. That takes me through Kalayaan, the Fort, Lawton, and McKinley Hills on the way back. The road was wet, but not so tricky, and the weather was cool. It was a nice workout, right up until that Lawton - McKinley Hills intersection where traffic is usually backed up.

Bill Walton has said that when he comes home from his frequent bike rides, his wife has to remind him that she wasn't part of that six-hour conversation he had with himself. This traffic jam, along with jeepneys abruptly stopping in front of me, were interrupting my conversation with myself.

I like that Mrs. Walton likened bike rides to conversations with oneself. I've had a bit of trouble explaining to friends the appeal of waking up at ungodly hours to make it to a stretch of pavement so that I can pedal far before pedaling back, getting badly tanned and sweating like a pig on a spit in the process. But there it is, elegantly said by an NBA player's sharp wife - it's my way of conversing with myself, figuring out what I'm made of, and figuring out what I really want in life.

It's also my way of lowering my cholesterol level. But, yes, a conversation.

I made it past that traffic jam and on to Heritage Park. I turned around, went through the same jam and jeepneys, to pedal home.

+++

1. Those photos are from my route along JP Rizal, but were taken last weekend on the way to a Livestrong event that prompted my retirement from charity rides. I'll pay the money, get the jersey, raise awareness for the cause in my own way, but I'll try to avoid these rides. They're too crowded, and too slow which is a recipe for annoying accidents.

2. See what I did there? Basketball AND cycling. Read the Bill Walton on Bicycling.com HERE.

tear sheets: Ely Buendia's home for Dwell Asia

I lucked out and got to shoot one of my favorite musicians for my one of my favorite magazines.

Ely Buendia home for Dwell Asia September/October 2011 issue.

Story by Chinggay Labrador
Photography by Miguel Nacianceno

September tear sheets

I should have been uploading tear sheets years ago but I haven't. So I don't know how to do it right, and sorry for the scanning job. It occurred to me, after scanning these, that I should have just asked the art director for the digital files.

Yummy, September 2011.
Recipes and food styling by Jun Jun de Guzman.
Prop styling by Elaine Lim.

Real Living, September 2011.
Shoot direction by Issa Villar.
Words by Michaela Abrera.
Photography by Miguel Nacianceno.

I was reading my dad's back issues of Bicycling magazine and I found a funny list of the author's cycling milestones. Items included shaving his legs, choosing which car to buy by the ease of installing a bike rack on it, and his first tumble.

I found it funny because I sort of kept a mental list of milestones myself, but didn't think other people did it too. My first tumble is certainly on it. But in this past week, I've marked three milestones:

#1. I did my first solo long-ish distance ride a few days ago. My car was in the shop in Quezon City, and instead of cabbing to the shop, I decided to bike it. That's from Rockwell to Tomas Morato, through the congested streets of Mandaluyong and the hilly parts of San Juan and New Manila.

All of that came under the distance of just 15 kilometers. I thought it would be around 9 to 10 km, and ignorance was bliss. But that's not really the point. I did it alone, going around potholes the size of manholes, and mixing it up with jeeps, trikes, and delivery trucks. I don't want to be that guy who has to drive to where he bikes, and it felt good knowing I could take on the streets of Manila. But let's hear me say that again when I've biked to Rizal or Tagaytay.

#2. On that trip, I was able to pull my water bottle out from the downtube cage, take a few gulps, and return it, without falling off or having to dismount. And at the risk of embellishing, I think I was going slightly up hill too.

# 3. Last night, I changed my own tires. Granted it wasn't on some deserted trail with the light quickly fading, I changed my own tires, in my living room, with only YouTube to help me out. I had gotten new, road-friendly tires, and wanted to put them on them myself. It took me almost two hours of for two tires. That's about 1 hour and 50 minutes more than how long it took the guy on YouTube. It was like wrestling with rubber and I kept getting trapped in a half nelson.

Anyway, milestones mark progress.

and more cycling...

all images above © John Watson

I found John Watson's blog, Prolly is Not Probably, a couple of weeks ago. I found it just in time to catch his almost-daily posts from his epic trip from Portland to San Franciso. That's just under 1300 kilometers by his estimate, which he covered in around two weeks.

When I got into biking (just a few weeks ahead of finding Watson's blog - noob), this was the sort of trip I imagined. And even if I'm long ways off from having the strength, the know-how, and even the courage to pull off a trip like that, I've been really enjoying the process of getting there.

Last weekend I biked around U.P. and ran into my dad and his bike buddies hanging out at a sari-sari store in front of the AS building. I swung off the pavement to say hi and hit a bump. My bike fell from under me and I shot my arms out to catch myself from falling flat on the dirt. I gingerly picked myself and my bike up and sheepishly walked to the stands, and then said hi to my dad.

Me: Hey! Did you see me fall over there?
My dad: Nope, but I'm sure all these people did.

This was the day right after I rode along Daang Hari with Dino, and did 20 kilometers biking from Alabang to Cavite and back. That's the farthest and longest I've ever biked, and I was feeling a bit confident.

Last night, my friend Jun invited to ride around the ULTRA/St. Paul's area. It's a bit of a steep inclined loop and it's supposed to be good training for climbs. I managed three rounds before giving up. There were parts where I just walked the bike up. I still haven't gotten this granny gear thing down pat, apparently.

Anyway, Watson's blog is really encouraging and great. Check out his "A Day In 10 Photos" section where you can see photos from his trip. He's also on twitter: johnprolly.

+++

So that nobody thinks I've totally given up my day job and sold my work cameras - it has crossed my mind - here's an outtake from the shoot of Jun's band. I wanted to shoot at night and in ambient lighting.

I eventually brought another car around with headlights on around for fill. I still know how to do this. Haha.

My bike is built. Dante at Life Cycle, Greenhills put it together this morning The only thing I bought from Life Cycle was a bike stand and a tire tube but Dante's been my dad's mechanic for twenty years so I went to him.

As soon as the bike was finished, I was going to take it out to The Fort for a ride but then it started raining hard. Even when it let up the skies were grey so I just headed back home. By the time I got to Makati, the rain had completely stopped so I took the bike around my four-street village. The ride  was smooth, if not a bit frisky, and felt very plush. That the bike was moving around a lot under me is probably because I haven't been biking very long, and my tires are set to 40 psi. I also have to fine tune that fork. I'm just assuming a lot here.

Also, I did the stupidest thing. I stuck a decal to my frame, regretted it, and had to scrape it off. So I scratched my bike less than six hours after it was built, and not even by riding it. Next time, just get on it and go.

Tomorrow I'm biking along Daang Hari with friends who will be on road bikes. Let's see how that turns out.

I have to work on my bike portraiture skills too.

Rob Penn - Beach to Border

I like his take on biking. I'll look for his book.

I finally found my fork today. The Rockshox Recons are affordable and I went all the way to Cartimar to find them. Then I went to Life Cycle and found them there for the same price.

I also found nice, white, flat pedals. I just need a flat bar, a stem and a seat and I'm done.

The new outdoorsy, active me.

Week 3.

This is how my bike-building project is looking on Week Three. I'm going to be a gearhead for a couple of paragraphs and talk about what's in that photo before getting existential. Feel free to zone out.

The frame is a Voodoo Bokor 29, size 19. Picking that frame was a bitch. I'm 5'9 1/2" (177cm) and it's a size that's apparently quite tricky to size up for bikes. Depending on the manufacturer, I could be a Medium or Large, or to be more precise - or not - can fit sizes 16 to 18, or 17 to 20. I've never so diligently used what little math skills I possess to convert units and compute for ratios and differentials. Inseam length finally came into play, and after getting cozy with Edmund, the bike store manager who measured my inseam, we figured my frame and 34" inseam could comfortably ride this particular Bokor 29.

Other frames I considered were On-One's 456, a Surly Karate Monkey (the name alone!), and a Santa Cruz Chameleon. I picked the Voodoo Bokor 29 because it's relatively affordable and easy on my eyes. I like round tubes over common, modern, sleek frames that are products of aerospace engineering. Also it's versatile. Though designed as a mountain bike, you can stick a rigid fork into it, hitch it on narrower tires, and ride it as a touring bike. I can also configure it as a single speed but hipster skinny jeans won't fit me. The over-sized 29 wheels will roll over almost any terrain while still looking proportional under my, er, hefty body.

Also, in that picture is a Fulcrum Red Metal SL wheelset. Though it matches the Bokor's colors, the decals are a bit gaudy. Maybe after it's been scratched up a bit, I'll refurbish and repaint the rims white. The tires are Kenda Nevegals, which I might return in exchange for Karmas. In the box is a Deore drivetrain and a Race Face headset. I traded in the brake set that came with it and got Hygia Usagi hydraulic brakes. My brakes are beyond my biking skills but it was on sale and can be carried on to future, more advanced bike builds. So far I've got a Salsa Shaft seatpost, and free Chunky ESI grips from my distributor. I've yet to decide on a fork and cockpit configuration, but hopefully, by next week, this bike-building project will be a bike-riding reality.

The awakening of my inner gearhead is just a means to an end. I just want to be outdoors more. I realized that I spend an unhealthy amount of time staying indoors, literally sitting on my formidable ass. Being a photographer is an active job relative to desk jockeys. But for the most part, I'm in airconditioned studios, conference rooms, kitchens, homes, or sitting behind my tripod during the inevitable downtime between layouts. The real workout is lugging the gear around. And I've got a guy for that. My assistant is lighter by at least 20 pounds now than when he started working for me three years ago. I kid you not.

At the end of the day, I get home, sit at my desk editing photos, or kick back to watch a ballgame or my favorite shows. My activities are split between hanging out with friends, eating out, and catching movies. That's all good but I could do more.

More Daniel Danger

... because he reminds me of Todd Hido.

Daniel Danger

Still have a thing for carnivals.

Daniel Danger

via Ramon de Veyra

I'm gonna toot my own horn.

It's not often they put a person on the covers of Real Living, but they did, and they got me to shoot it.

Also, Dwell, the only magazine I actually subscribe to, has an Asian edition that's premiering this month. And it's been extremely... mind boggling that I get to shoot a story for it, and have an image from that story make the cover. I'm really not into bucket lists, but if ever I had one, shooting for Dwell would be on it. Check that.

I like the blue versus orange thing going on on these covers. These issues are out in newsstands now.

Real Living cover styling by Dagny Madamba. Art directed by Joanne Enriquez-Bohol. Photography by Miguel Nacianceno.

Dwell cover art direction by Melinda Williams. Story by Chinggay Labrador. Photography by Miguel Nacianceno.

Walker Pickering

"Skyline," from Nearly West series by Walker Pickering.

I know I haven't been writing lately. But I have been working, reading, and traveling. Just this month, I spent nine days - including a 24-hour train ride, going from Hanoi to Siem Reap, with stops at Nah Trang and Phnom Penh.

The best thing about traveling is picking up on all these bits of information and insight along the way. Bits about others and other places, bits about oneself. All of which I happily told my friends.

Bongoût

I was shooting with Kissa for Preview Magazine today, and we were covering a bunch of pocket galleries. The Department of Avant-Garde Cliches was the last on the list, and it was a long day. Yet I felt a different energy when I entered the gallery, especially after seeing these large silk screened prints tacked to the walls.

These prints are by Anna Hellsgård and Christian Gfeller, who are known collectively and creatively known as Bongoût.

I wish I had known of Bongoût earlier, and I wish I had known that they were here months ago for a silk screening and book making workshop. To make me feel better, the good folks at DAGC sold me this: