Muammar Al Khadafi

I intend to go on Christmas holiday in December 2010 and organized biking Sibolga - Tarutung, 66 km  and posted an invitation in Facebook and invited friends to going along with me. My goal in this journey is to motivated the people in the area that in senior ages, we still able to bike the hill, bending road..

Generally speaking, my plan is uncommon and doesn't make sense. But I will try how many friends interested to join,  let me see. Most of invitee are my family fam "Situmeang" wherever they lived, since Situmeang anchestor originally coming from Sipoholon, Tarutung and many of them lived at Sibolga and surrounding, including me.

My home resided at Sitahuis, 23 km between Sibolga - Tarutung, so I will take the opportunity to pay honor to visit my father and mother grave beside the road. Let the youngsters see how I respect my parents that raise and educated me, so I may lived as my condition recently for them to imitated.

In order to organized the bike tour, by accident I found the story in the Blog that Christ W in April 21, 2008  biking from Tarutung - Sibolga alone and writing his experiences below including his opinion about the people and the culture as written below
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Somewhere in our 66 kms on the Trans Sumatra highway today is a downhill stretch with a thousand bends, even through two very tight tunnels cut through solid granite rock. It’s fun to see the larger trucks and buses squeeze forward, then back up and repeat the manoeuvre again, inching their way through. Didn’t really have this problem, cycling by in 94. The occasional landslide can cut off villages and even towns from each other, but this road wouldn’t be the Trans Sumatra, if it didn’t.

As the road to Sibolga narrowed through some spectacular jungle with ferns as big as bicycles. I wondered how people in these seemingly harsh places get by on a daily basis. They probably did as their forefathers did. Scream and yell at passing bicycle tourists. Then there’s the daily rains, slime, mossy walls, broken, run down, muddy homes and always a faint to strong smell of chicken sh*t or worse, something man made.

Sibolga’s claim to fame would be it’s location and a staring off point to the Nias Islands offshore. Surfing’s big there, with the next landfall being the Indian subcontinent. Getting to Nias entails a 10 hour overnight ferry ride to trek swampy jungles, to see and stay with megalithic stone age tribes on the islands. Their manhood being proven by jumping over 10 foot high concrete walls. Near misses usually result in broken limbs.