環島 Cycling Around Taiwan

A first-hand account of cycling Taiwan's 900 km Route No. 1 with Giant Adventure, plus tips for anyone planning a Taiwan bike tour.

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The sun was barely up when forty cyclists clipped in outside our hotel in Taipei. Ahead of us were nine days, roughly 900 kilometers, and a complete loop around Taiwan on Taiwan Cycling Route No. 1, known locally as the Huandao. I'd looked forward to this ride for years, but I had no idea it would change how I think about travel, language, and bicycle touring.

Like many people researching cycling in Taiwan, I expected great roads, mountain scenery, and incredible food. Taiwan delivered all of that. What I didn't expect was how quickly a group of strangers would become friends, or how riding a bicycle would reconnect me with a place that has quietly shaped much of my life.

I first lived in Taiwan as a college student nearly three decades ago. My wife grew up there, and we've returned several times over the years to visit family. Even so, riding around the island revealed a side of Taiwan I'd never experienced. A bicycle moves slowly enough that you notice the roadside temples, fishing villages, rice fields, neighborhood markets, and conversations that disappear when you're traveling by train or car.

What surprised me most wasn't the scenery. It was the people.

Nine Days, 900 Kilometers, 40 Strangers Who Became Friends

I joined a Giant Adventure Cycling tour — nine days and roughly 900 kilometers around the island — with about 40 riders, most of them Taiwanese, ranging in age from their 20s into their 70s, with a few of us from Hong Kong, Malaysia, and the Chinese-American community. I was the only non-native Chinese speaker in the group, but my old Mandarin slowly came back. Every conversation reminded me that travel is richer when you make an effort to speak the local language. By the end of the trip I was motivated to study Chinese again.

Cycling is woven into Taiwan's culture. Completing the Huandao is almost a rite of passage for many Taiwanese. As I rode through cities, mountain roads, fishing villages, and farmland, I began to understand why. A bicycle moves at the right speed. You cover real distance, but you never lose touch with the places and people around you.

Our days had a rhythm: breakfast, morning calisthenics, ride about 20 kilometers, stop at a Taoist or Confucian temple for a snack, keep riding, catered lunch with the whole group, more riding, catered dinner, repeat. Support vans hopscotched ahead of us carrying our luggage and day packs, and there were always people at the front and back of the group looking out for everyone.

From Industrial West Coast to the Rice Fields of the East

We rode down the industrial west coast, around the southern tip, and up the agricultural east coast through the East Rift Valley — rice fields, layered mountains on both sides, and a landscape that honestly reminded me of Tahiti or Hawaii. It turns out there's a real reason for that: some Polynesian languages trace back to Taiwan's indigenous population. Riding that stretch, you feel the history in the land itself.

Along the way we stopped at Giant's headquarters in Taichung, toured their cycling museum, and sat in on a lecture about the history of biking in Taiwan. It gave me a completely new appreciation for how central cycling is to Taiwanese identity — and for how well a tour like this can be run when a company like Giant is behind it.

The Stories That Stuck With Me

What I remember most isn't the mileage — it's the people. A rider who told me cycling had helped him work through a decade of depression he'd never shared with his own wife. A couple celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary, who said that if their marriage could survive 25 years, they had the strength to survive the Huandao. A 73-year-old riding in memory of a close friend who'd passed the year before, determined not to wait any longer to seize the moment. A mother and daughter bonding on e-bikes. A guy from Northern California on his second Huandao, having talked two buddies into joining him for their first.

Everyone had a reason for being there, and everyone was generous enough to share it.

This Is Only the Beginning

In 2024, I returned to Taiwan with a friend for a self-supported ride from Taipei to Sun Moon Lake, following GPX routes from the excellent book Taiwan Roads Above the Clouds. It was a completely different experience from the Huandao. Without a support crew or schedule, we found our own rhythm and discovered another side of Taiwan.

Next up is another iconic ride, this time much closer to home. A group of friends and I are planning to cycle California's Pacific Coast route from San Francisco to Los Angeles. It's a different landscape and a different kind of adventure, but it's another chance to see a place at the pace of a bicycle.

I still haven't swum across Sun Moon Lake during its September festival, and I haven't climbed Jade Mountain. Next on my Taiwan list are Alishan, Wuling, and some of the island's legendary mountain roads.

But finishing the Huandao did something unexpected. Instead of checking a box on my bucket list, it made me want to do more bike touring. Taiwan showed me that some of the best travel happens at the pace of a bicycle, and now I'm looking farther afield.

I'm already dreaming about riding from Seoul to Busan in South Korea, exploring mainland China, Vietnam, and Japan by bike, and eventually tackling some of Europe's classic cycling routes through France, Italy, and Switzerland. Taiwan wasn't the end of the journey. It was the beginning.

If you're considering a Taiwan bike tour or looking for the best destinations for bike touring in East Asia, I'd put Taiwan at the top of the list. The cycling infrastructure is outstanding, drivers are respectful, the food is unforgettable, and every day brings a different landscape. More importantly, it's a place where the people leave as much of an impression as the roads themselves.