OBSCURE LESSON FROM THE OPEN ROAD
The vast expanse of the open roads traversed on the simple machine of a bicycle could teach a thing or two in the art of being home in the unknown. Amidst the limitless horizons and winding trails, it speaks about the secrets of courage, resilience, and the boundless possibilities that await those who dare to embark on the two-wheel adventure - to those willing to listen.

I still remember my first 200 km ride like it was just yesterday. The course I plotted took me south of Mount Papandayan before looping back to Bandung where I live. I got out of the house at 3 a.m. and made my way south toward Pangalengan where I climbed alone in the dark for 2 hours until sunrise before crossing Garut Regency border and into the unknown. My bike was a steel Marin Nicasio Plus bought recently for less than 1,000 USD.
I arrived back home 17 hours later at around 10 p.m., exhausted but exhilarated. The next morning I woke up feeling sore all over and I knew: I’ve tasted something my appetite had been secretly longed for. The thrill of exploring new landscapes and the joy of self-discovery achievable through the open road ignited a flame within me. I found myself already planning for the next adventure.
Soon afterward, I completed my first audax, a 300-km ride with 20 hours of cut off time. I wanted more so I signed up for the 400, 600, and eventually the 1000 km brevet. A year after Papandayan, I won my first 1,500 km self-supported race as the first female finisher.


Looking back, I try to remember what I did to prepare for these long rides as someone who only took up cycling less than two years prior to her first audax. The usual basic and practical things can be easily found on the internet (there’s no shortage of it) and I don’t think I have that much of miles and experience in my belt to give anyone any advice but even that from the open roads I’ve learned there are less tangible, obscure, things that, to me, are as important to consider before going on the big miles.
Setting intention
Before embarking on a long-distance ride, I usually take some time to set a clear intention. I ask myself a question: what do I want to achieve? It’s essential to define the goals. Mine is centered around the desire to challenge myself and around the spirit of adventure. Having a purpose is like having an internal compass that will point you back to the right direction when things get hard and you feel like giving up. My purpose is what keeps me motivated to push forward.
Consistency and enjoyment
I don't strictly follow any training programs, but I make a conscious effort to ride most days of the week. Each ride doesn't have to be intense or long; to me the balance between hard sessions and enjoying the process is essential. I believe that you don't have to always push limits to become better. Rather than aiming for occasional intense efforts, show up as often as you can, even if it's just for a short ride. Have fun. I find that when I approach each ride with a sense of wonder and excitement, improvement becomes a natural byproduct. This consistent practice helps build a solid foundation for endurance. I trust all those hours spent on the saddle prior to the journey will carry me through the distance.

Keep your mind and heart open
Just like any other adventure, going on a long ride requires you to acknowledge unpredictability as you set out to explore the unknown. Preparation is important but there’s only so much you can control. It’s essential to keep an open mind and heart, welcoming the joy, challenges, and moments of discovery that the journey will bring. Let the ride unfold because, at the end, all you can do after all the preparation is to let it all go and embrace both the highs and the lows.
Courageous, not fearless
“Aren’t you scared?” I get that a lot and each time my answer is the same: yes, I’m scared. I’m not without fear. But when I venture into the unknown, I’m trying to embrace my fears and focus on something more exciting, that is, discovering new landscapes and challenging my limits. I don’t consider myself as fearless but I know I have courage and courage doesn’t mean the absence of fear. It’s the ability to acknowledge its presence and still move forward. It starts by taking one little step outside of your comfort zone. With each step, you build a reservoir of courage you can tap into in the difficult moments. Courage first, confidence follows.
Text : Citra Saraswati
Photography : Rifqi Akbar, Josua Alessandro