The Journey I Never Planned: My First Solo Ride from Biñan, Laguna to Sorsogon

     

How a canceled trip turned into a 527-kilometer solo motorcycle adventure I'll never forget

Some journeys take months of planning. Mine began with a cancellation.

I never imagined that my first long-distance solo motorcycle ride would happen because my original travel plans fell through. I have to admit, I wasn't fully prepared. I didn't have a power bank, my riding gear wasn't complete, and I had never ridden this far alone before.

I also hadn't done any long-distance practice rides or physical and mental conditioning for a journey like this.

Riding my motorcycle all the way home to Sorsogon had always been one of my biggest dreams. I  just never expected it to happen this way.

But sometimes, the journeys we never plan become the ones we remember the most.

Why I Had to Go Home

It was May 11, 2025, a day before the local elections. Like many Filipinos, I needed to go home to vote. It was also the perfect opportunity to bring home some of my belongings that I no longer needed here in Metro Manila. More importantly, it was a chance to spend time with my parent, whom I hadn't seen in quite a while.

Originally, I had already booked a van for the trip. It seemed like the safest and most convenient option. But just when I thought everything was settled, my booking was unexpectedly canceled. 

With the elections just around the corner, bus tickets were almost impossible to find. Time was running out, and I had to make a decision.

That's when I remembered my motorcycle, which had been sitting at my aunt's house in Biñan for more than a month. I had left it there for safekeeping, never imagining that it would soon take me on the longest ride of my life. 

I had always dreamed of riding all the way home to Sorsogon someday- but in my mind, it would happen after months of planning, with complete riding gear and enough time to prepare both myself and my motorcycle.

Instead, that dream arrived much sooner than I expected.

So, i took a deep breath, packed only the essentials, checked my Suzuki GSX-R150 one last time, and decided to ride home alone.

It was exciting... but honestly, it was also terrifying.

Preparing for the Ride

My motorcycle had been parked at my aunt's house in Biñan for over a month. At the time, I didn't have a safe and secure parking space at my boarding house, so leaving it there was the best option. Little did I know, this quiet moment would be the beginning of my first solo motorcycle adventure.

 The calm before the ride. My Suzuki GSX-R150, still covered with dust and waiting patiently at my aunt's house in Biñan before I finally set off on my first solo adventure

When I told my aunt about my plan, she was immediately surprised. She thought it was a bit random and risky, especially since I would be riding alone for a long distance. She asked me several times if I was really sure I could handle it.

My Uncle and grandfather and friends also had their own concerns. To them, it wasn't just about the distance - it was about me being alone on the road. Their questions made me realize that while I was excited for the adventure, the people  who cared about me were also carrying their own worries.

But despite their concerns,  they still supported my decision. Before leaving, I knew I had one important thing to do first - make sure my motorcycle was ready for the journey.

     The moment before leaving my aunt's house in Biñan. After planning, the journey was finally starting to feel real

      The starting point: 40,625 km on the odometer, recorded in Biñan, Laguna before the first major ride began

Before heading South, I made one final stop - a mechanic's shop for a thorough check. Since this would be my my first long-distance solo ride, I wanted to make sure my motorcycle was in the best condition possible. 

Replacing my front tire with a new Dunlop tire - one of the most important preparations I made before taking on my first long-distance solo ride

Checking and replacing the front and rear brake pads to make sure I had reliable stopping power throughout the journey

                                                                             

    A fresh oil change before the ride - a simple maintenance step that helps keep the engine ready for the long road ahead  

                    

With the maintenance completed and everything checked, my Suzuki GSX-R150 was finally ready for the road ahead. There were no excuses to delay the trip. It was time to start the engine, leave Biñan behind, and begin the longest solo ride I had ever taken.

By the time I left the motorcycle repair shop, it was already around 3pm. It was much later than I had originally planned, but I decided to continue anyway. I knew I still had  long road ahead, and every hour would count.

The Journey Begins 

The moment I left Biñan behind at , everything felt different. There was no turning back now. Every kilometer carried me farther from home and closer to a destination I had only imagined reaching on my own. It was exciting, a little intimidating, and incredibly freeing - all at the same time.

My route took me through Santo Tomas, Batangas, where the ride still felt familiar. The afternoon traffic was manageable, and the weather couldn't seem to make up its mind. A little drizzle would come and go, keeping me alert but never forcing me to pull over. Instead of letting it ruin the ride, I simply adapted and kept moving forward. With every kilometer, my confidence grew, and the nervousness I had felt before leaving slowly faded.

The First Full Tank

Before officially leaving Laguna behind, I made one last stop at my uncle's house in Santo Tomas, Batangas. I had left some of my belongings there, hoping to bring everything home to Sorsogon. But since I was travelling on a motorcycle, I could only take what I could safely carry.

I picked up my riding gloves, packed a few essentials, and told my relatives about my decision to ride all the way home. They were understandably worried at first, but they also knew how much this journey meant to me. 

After saying my goodbyes, I rode toward Petron San Pablo for my first fuel stop.

     My first full tank at Petron San Pablo, Laguna

Note: The clock shown on my motorcycle's dashboard was not set correctly at the time of the trip. The time mentioned in this article are based on my phone's timestamps and trip records.

As I pulled back onto the highway, the reality of what I was about to do finally sank in. This wasn't just another weekend ride, I was riding more than 500 kilometers home to Sorsogon- alone. 

There was no turning back now. 

Crossing into Quezon Province- my first milestone on the long ride home.

The Road Through Quezon

The evening ride through Quezon Province was both exciting and challenging. As I passed through the towns of Tiaong and Candelaria, I quickly noticed that some sections of the road were rough and uneven. There were patches of broken pavement and potholes that demanded extra caution, especially as daylight slowly faded. 

Despite the road conditions, I kept a steady pace. I reminded myself that this wasn't a race. Every kilometer safely completed was a step closer to home.

Following the route through Tiaong, Quezon as I continued my journey south

About an hour after leaving Petron San Pablo, I finally reached Lucena City. 

Seeing the Lucena City- Rotary welcome sign across from Jollibee felt like another milestone. It reminded me that every kilometer I covered was bringing me closer to home.

Passing through Lucena City- another milestone on my solo ride home

Dinner Break

By  around 7:50 pm, I decided it was finally time to stop for dinner. I pulled over at Kamayan sa Kubo, a simple roadside eatery that became my first meal stop of the trip.

After hours of riding, I finally had the chance to rest, eat, and stretch my legs. It wasn't a long stop, but it was exactly what I needed before continuing the journey through the night.

I also took a short nap to recharge. I knew the most challenging part of the ride was still ahead, and I wanted to stay alert as possible before getting back on the road.

A simple bowl of mami with egg—warm, comforting, and exactly what I needed after hours on the road

A simple roadside stop, but one I'll always remember as part of my first solo ride home.

The Long Night Through Quezon

I left Kamayan sa Kubo feeling refreshed and ready to continue the journey. As the hours passed, the roads became quieter and darker. The traffic had thinned out, but the ride demanded even more focus.

I continued south along the Maharlika Highway, passing through Atimonan and heading toward Gumaca. 

The deeper I rode into Quezon, the more I realized how long the journey still was.

       Following the Maharlika Highway as the night ride through Quezon continued.

One place I had always heard about was the famous Bitukang Manok in Quezon.

Growing up, I had heard countless stories about its winding curves and challenging roads. Whenever I traveled home by bus, I was usually asleep by the time we passed through this part of the province.

This was my first time seeing it with my own eyes—and honestly, I was both excited and nervous.

    Passing the Gumaca Bypass—my first time seeing one of Quezon's most well-known roads.

As I continued riding, I reminded myself to stay focused. The roads were unfamiliar, the night was getting deeper, and I knew this wasn't the time to let my guard down.

An Unexpected Turn

Just after midnight, I continued along the diversion road, expecting nothing more than another quiet stretch of highway.

Within minutes, everything changed.

In a split second, I lost control of my motorcycle and fell.

My left foot became trapped underneath the bike, making it impossible for me to stand up on my own. For a moment, all I could do was stay still and hope someone would pass by.

The road was quiet, and there weren't many vehicles passing that late at night. I remember thinking how difficult it would be if no one came.

Fortunately, after just a few minutes, a van happened to pass by. Several passengers immediately got out and rushed over to help me.

They helped me lift the motorcycle, checked if I was injured, and made sure I was okay before letting me continue. I may never know their names, but I'll never forget their kindness.

     Kind strangers who stopped to help me after my first accident. Their kindness gave me the courage to continue.

One of the people I'll never forget from that journey was a fellow rider heading home to Lopez, Quezon.

After helping me during my first accident, he didn't simply continue on his way.

Instead, he chose to ride alongside me for a while, just to make sure I was safe.

He kept reminding me to take it slow, checking on me as we rode through the dark roads of Quezon.

Eventually, our routes separated, and it was time for us to say goodbye. But I never forgot his kindness.

Sometimes, complete strangers become part of a story you'll carry with you for the rest of your life.

      A stranger at the beginning of the journey, but someone I'll always remember for his kindness.

When the Road Suddenly Disappeared

I thought the worst was already behind me.

After the first accident, I continued riding carefully. My confidence had taken a hit, but I didn't want to give up. Home was still hundreds of kilometers away.

             Continuing south after the first accident.

At around 3:00 in the morning, another unexpected moment tested me.

I was riding along what appeared to be a newly widened section of the highway. From a distance, it looked like the road continued into a third lane.

But it didn't.

Without warning, the newly paved lane came to an abrupt end.

In the darkness, I couldn't see where the pavement stopped.

Before I had time to react, my motorcycle dropped into the unfinished section of the road.

Once again...

I hit the ground.

For a few moments, I just lay there, trying to understand what had happened.

A bus passed by. At first, I thought it had simply driven past me.

But a few minutes later, I saw people running toward me.

The bus conductor had actually stopped at the nearby barangay hall to ask for help.

Within minutes, the barangay captain and officials arrived to check on me and help me get back on my feet.

That was the moment I realized something I would carry with me long after the ride was over:

I may have started the journey alone, but I was never truly alone.

Every time I found myself in trouble, complete strangers stopped what they were doing just to help.

It's a kindness I'll never forget.

A Place to Rest Before Sunrise

Sometimes, the safest thing you can do is stop.

After the barangay captain and officials helped me, they brought me to the barangay hall.

It was almost 4:00 in the morning.

The place was already busy because it was election day. Teachers, volunteers, and barangay officials were preparing the polling precincts before the voting officially began.

Despite everything they had to do, they still took the time to take care of me.

They offered me a cup of coffee and encouraged me to rest before getting back on the road.

          Taking a much-needed rest at Barangay Bagong Silang before continuing the journey.

There wasn't any medical staff available at that hour, so my wounds couldn't be cleaned properly. Still, everyone made sure I was comfortable and repeatedly reminded me not to continue riding until daylight.

I sat there quietly, exhausted, trying to process everything that had happened over the past few hours.

While resting at the barangay hall, I was finally able to charge my phone for a while. It was only then, as I looked more closely at myself, that I noticed my riding pants had torn during the fall. Seeing the damage made everything that had happened feel even more real.

            I only noticed the tear in my riding pants after arriving at the barangay hall. Thankfully, my injuries were far less serious than they could have been.

The First Light of Bicol

After one of the longest nights of my life, dawn finally arrived.

As the sky slowly began to brighten, I thanked everyone at Barangay Bagong Silang for their kindness.

I put my helmet back on, started my Suzuki GSX-R150, and continued the journey once again.

This time, the road looked different.

Not because it had changed—

but because I had.

           The first sunrise of the journey greeted me at the Gateway to Bicol.

At around 5:40 AM, I finally reached the Gateway to Bicolandia in Camarines Norte.

Seeing the arch in person filled me with relief.

After everything that had happened throughout the night, it felt like I had finally crossed an important milestone—not just on the map, but in my journey as well.

 

        Gateway to Bicolandia—one of the moments I had been looking forward to since leaving Laguna.

I stopped for a few minutes to take photos before continuing south.

For the first time in hours, I felt hopeful again.

One More Full Tank

Before continuing deeper into Bicol, I stopped at Petron Tagkawayan to refuel.

It wasn't just my motorcycle that needed fuel—I needed a moment to reset after everything that had happened overnight.

With a full tank once again, I continued the ride with a renewed sense of determination.

Another full tank, another fresh start

Finding My Way

Sometimes, you don't need a map—you just need the courage to keep moving.

After leaving Petron Tagkawayan, I continued south, leaving Camarines Norte behind and making my way into Camarines Sur.

The morning sun was finally up, and for the first time since the accidents, the road felt a little less intimidating.

I kept riding through one town after another, watching the kilometers slowly disappear beneath my wheels. Every road brought me closer to home.

By the time I reached Naga City, another challenge appeared.

My phone, which I had managed to charge at the barangay hall, started acting up again. It had been dropped during the ride, and eventually, it refused to charge.

Without a working GPS or a power bank, I had no choice but to rely on road signs—and the kindness of people I met along the way.

Whenever I wasn't sure where to go, I stopped and asked for directions.

Every person I asked pointed me in the right direction.

I also took a short break to rest before continuing. There were still a few rough sections of road, so I reminded myself that getting home safely mattered more than arriving quickly.

Little by little...

kilometer by kilometer...

I got closer to home.

The Final Stretch

After one of the longest nights of my life, home finally felt within reach.

At around 3:00 PM, I finally crossed into Sorsogon.

After everything that had happened in Quezon, seeing the familiar roads of my home province gave me a renewed sense of energy. 

The roads were smoother, my confidence slowly returned, and for the first time since the accidents, I truly believed I was going to make it home.

I stopped one last time to refuel, adding ₱300 worth of gasoline before continuing the final kilometers of the journey.

From there, I simply kept riding. The finish line was finally within reach.

After everything that had happened since leaving Laguna, I thought the rest of the ride would be easy.

Apparently, the road had one last surprise waiting for me.

Somewhere near Pilar, Sorsogon, my stomach suddenly started hurting. I desperately needed to find a restroom.

Thankfully, I came across a small stop where the staff kindly allowed me to use their comfort room.

Looking back now, it's funny to think that after surviving two accidents and hundreds of kilometers on the road, one of the biggest challenges before reaching home was simply finding a bathroom.

Home at Last

Every long journey has a destination. Mine was more than just a place—it was home.

At around 5:00 PM, after nearly 26 hours

from the moment I left Laguna, I finally arrived home in Sorsogon.

The moment I parked my motorcycle, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

I made it.

Not without fear.

Not without pain.

But safely.

That was all that mattered.

My father was there to welcome me home. My family had been worried throughout the entire journey. Seeing me arrive safely brought an overwhelming sense of relief.

After taking off my riding gear and changing into clean clothes, we finally saw what the ride had left behind.

My body was covered with bruises, my knee was scraped, and the pain I had ignored throughout the journey slowly began to catch up with me.

Only then did my family realize how much I had gone through just to make it home.

         

 The scrape on my knee was a small price to pay for making it home safely.

 

    The bruises became more visible after I got home—a reminder of everything the journey had demanded.

I took a quick shower, rested for a while, and changed into fresh clothes.

Although my body was exhausted, there wasn't much time to stay home.

After all, this journey had a purpose.

It was election day, and I was determined to cast my vote.

            The reason I came home. After a 500+ kilometer journey, I still made it in time to cast my vote.

Standing there with ink on my finger, I couldn't help but smile. I had accomplished everything I had set out to do.

I made it home.

I voted.

And despite everything the road had thrown at me...

I made it through safely.

Irosin, Sorsogon - my hometown, and the place where this unexpected journey finally brought  me home.

Before sharing the lessons I learned from this journey, you can get to know more about the rider behind these stories through my About the Rider page.

What This Journey Taught Me

When I first decided to ride home from Laguna to Sorsogon, I thought the biggest challenge would be the distance.

I was wrong.

The road tested my patience, my courage, and my confidence in ways I never expected.

There were moments when I questioned whether I should keep going.

There were moments when fear almost got the better of me. But every challenge I faced was met with an act of kindness.

The strangers who helped lift my motorcycle after my first accident.

The fellow rider who stayed with me until it was safe to continue.

The bus conductor who stopped to ask for help after my second accident.

The barangay captain, officials, teachers, and volunteers who welcomed me into the barangay hall before sunrise.

The people who patiently gave me directions when my phone stopped working.

Each of them became part of my journey.

Without expecting anything in return, they reminded me that kindness still exists, even among complete strangers.

This ride wasn't just about traveling more than 500 kilometers. It became a reminder that no matter how difficult the road gets, we are never truly alone.

Sometimes, the most unforgettable part of a journey isn't the destination. It's the people you meet along the way.

Looking back now, I don't remember every kilometer I rode.

I remember the people.

I remember their kindness.

And I remember the feeling of arriving home with a heart that was just as full as my fuel tank had been when I started.

If this journey taught me one thing, it's this:

The road will always test you. But it will also remind you that some of the kindest people you'll ever meet are the ones you never expected to meet at all.

Above all, I'm grateful. Grateful that I had the opportunity to take this journey, grateful for every person who helped me along the way, and grateful that I made it home safely. This ride gave me more than memories- it gave me a deeper appreciation for life, kindness, and for the courage to keep moving forward, one kilometer at a time.

This was my first solo ride home.

It certainly won't be my last.

— Jelai Balmes

Have you ever taken a solo ride or traveled home in an unforgettable way? I'd love to hear your story. Feel free to share your experience in the comments below.