Taiwanese Cyclists Ring the Island on a Nearly 1,000Km Route Known As the Huandao, a Rite of Passage That Reveals a Side

Each year, thousands of Taiwanese cyclists ring the island on a nearly 1,000km (621-mile) route known as the Huandao, a rite of passage that reveals a side of Taiwan few travellers see. Now, a growing number of tourists are joining them, pedalling past dramatic rock formations, rugged fishing villages, sparsely inhabited eastern shores, white-sand beaches and the heavily urban western coast. Long-distance biking has been popular in Taiwan for more than 50 years, and the island is regarded as one of the world's great cycling destinations.

But the idea of circumnavigating it by bike entered the national imagination after the 2006 film Island Etude, in which a college student spends seven days cycling around the island, visiting historical sites, hearing ancient Indigenous folk songs and meeting strangers who offer a bed or meal. Ever since, real-life students have followed his path. In 2015, the government inaugurated the circular route as Taiwan Cycle Route No 1, creating a national network of cycle paths and roads.

While most cyclists begin and end in Taipei, the beauty of the Huandao is that you can start anywhere – or tackle just portions of it. On two previous visits, I had largely stayed in the populous north and west. This time, I set out to cycle 500km (311 miles) along the island's lonely eastern coast, from Taipei to Taitung.

Leaving the capital, I followed designated bike lanes towards the port city of Keelung, stopping for soup dumplings and braised eel at its famous night market. The real biking fun began some 30km (18.6 miles) east in the seaside town of Fulong, where the historic 2.1km (1.3-mile) Old Caoling Tunnel has been converted into a bike path. I cruised through the stone passageway under flickering lights before emerging on the northern edge of Taiwan's eastern coast – and what felt like a different world.

While the island's north and west are dominated by modern, sprawling cities, the east is rooted in Indigenous culture. Because central Taiwan is marked by an impenetrable mountain range and there isn't much flat land in the east, most 20th-Century Chinese settlers and developers remained in the western flatlands, helping preserve Indigenous culture in the isolated east. This divide remains visible today: the high-speed rail can't pierce the central mountains, so it only shuttles tourists up and down the western cities.

In the east, there is a sensation of open space – the mountains are bigger, the palm trees taller, and because it faces the vast Pacific rather than the narrow Taiwan Strait, the water is deeper and darker blue. Carved wooden totem poles, geometric mosaics and Indigenous food traditions testify that long before Han Chinese and Japanese settlers arrived, Taiwan was home to Amis, Truku and Puyuma people. The Huandao website offers practical tips for those wishing to cycle or drive the route.

The best time to cycle is from March to April or October to November, avoiding extreme temperatures and summer monsoons. Giant, one of the world's biggest bike brands, is headquartered in Taiwan; travellers can rent bicycles and drop them off at Giant locations across the island. Convenience stores like 7-Eleven and Family Mart are ubiquitous, offering hydration, snacks, bathrooms and wi-fi.

Cycling south, these layers of history and identity gradually revealed themselves. Today, most Taiwanese are Buddhist, Taoist or practice Chinese folk beliefs, yet Christianity, introduced by European missionaries in the 1600s and practiced by only about 5% of Taiwanese today, still survives in these isolated villages. Roughly 100km (62 miles) south of the Old Caoling Tunnel, I spotted my first church in the village of Heping.

Marked by a white cross against a towering mountain range, it primarily serves the area's Truku residents. Nearby, crosses sit atop traditional horseshoe-shaped tombs in Chinese cemeteries. I mostly stayed at family-run guesthouses during my 11-day journey: a treehouse on a mountaintop, a hut in the mouth of a marble gorge, and a bed and breakfast by an empty shore.

Taipei-based cyclist Ethan, who has completed the Huandao four or five times, said, "Every time I go a different way, in bigger or smaller circles. Taiwan is so beautiful and there's always something new to see. He added, "Some people say if you don't do the Huandao at least once in your lifetime, you're not really Taiwanese.