Rise and Shine

Chris and I have had this ride on our brains for just about the whole year. I can’t promise that you’ll have “fun” and I certainly can’t promise tailwinds the entire ride, but I can promise that you won’t soon forget these roads. Chris and I scouted the roads this weekend, catching a few errors and snapping a few photos just to get you all pumped up for the real deal.

Highlights:
Old Cascade Highway – I’ve done Stevens Pass a number of times, but taking the old highway is easily the coolest way to do it. The final section mixes in some hard packed gravel and encroaching wildlife (the roads aren’t really maintained anymore). Expect a foot bridge midway up the final section that we advise that you walk over. It is short though, and as a bonus, it cuts off car traffic completely. It will just be you, the trees, and the endless sky.

Alt Highway 97 – This road reminds me of just how varied the terrain in Washington really can be. You will follow the Wenatchee river all the way in to Pateros.

I’ve done a lot of mountain pass climbing since I joined SIR, but nothing quite compares to Washington Pass. You will just have to experience it to understand.

Come on out for the ride, food, and beer. We have the entire Mt. Gardener Inn hotel rented out and will be cooking dinner and breakfast for all of you hungry riders. Jane just picked up a massive batch of blueberries at the farmer’s market for pancakes. Nothing helps you tackle a mountain pass like some pancakes.

Seriously though, go sign up. Let me know if you are unable to ride, but can volunteer.

More pictures can be found here.

Sally with the winner's underwear from last week

"Meatball" loves beer and french kissing

Start of the "B" group

In a haze

Special thanks to Emily for snapping a good number of these pictures for me. More can be found here (some are from a few weeks back).

When Chris and I took on the 200K for the fall series, Mark Thomas suckered us in to doing the 600K as well. Most of my planning went into the many details needed to cover the 600K’s setup. I had no idea that putting together a 200K that ends in the same spot would be such a hassle. The route got moved, changed and reversed no less than 5 times since I first got the general idea down. The final reversal was made literally a few days before we did the pre-ride on Saturday.

I am shocked to say that the course is perfect and beautiful. If you can’t make it to the 600K on the 11th of September, please do your best to attend the 200K on the 12th. Chris and I had a wonderful time riding it.

We left on Saturday morning around 6 to drive up to the 7am start at the Arlington Motor Inn off of Highway 530. The parking at the start is plentiful… if you are staying at the hotel. There seem to be towing signs everywhere, so you might have to get creative if you are just up for the day. I parked across the street near an abandoned building (that still had towing signs) and didn’t have any issues with the locals. Next weekend we are doing the 600K pre-ride and I plan on driving a little further down to Smokey Point Blvd for some legal street parking. It might add 2-3K to your ride if that means anything to you.

WA-530 was a breeze as usual. There is always plenty to look at and almost no real climbing. It throws in some gentle rollers just to keep you awake until you get to Darrington (50K).

I was on the lookout for some warm food once we got into town. The Shell station had some questionable looking breakfast sandwiches still. I ate and enjoyed mine, for what that is worth. Make sure you stock up in Darrington though. There is a 70K stretch after that with no services at all. You might get lucky to find a camper that has some extra water if you are desperate, but it is best to just be prepared.

The Mountain Loop Highway starts with pristine road following a great little river and almost no traffic. It is one of those moments that makes you realize why it is you even do this stuff. Eventually, the great road gives away to hard packed dirt and the occasional loose gravel section. If you stay loose, the gravel sections shouldn’t give you any problems. Still, there is 14 miles of this, so it is best to keep alert. We purposely routed this section so you will be going uphill on the gravel instead of downhill at speed. 28+ tires are recommended, but probably not required if you are a decent bike handler. Despite the direction, there are still a few downhill gravel sections; just use caution. It is actually a lot of fun to get a little dirty. I hope you all enjoy it as much as we did.

Our stop at the Green Gables General Store was welcome after the long run without services. The selection isn’t amazing, but you should be able to find something to fill your belly. There is only 30K left until the next control in Lake Roesiger.

We ran into a detour in Granite Falls that should be cleared by the time the actual ride starts. If not, it was pretty easy to navigate with just the detour signs. The rollers start to kick back in around here just to keep you honest.

After Lake Roesiger, there is a surprising amount of descending until you get to the Centennial Trail. You will follow the trail all the way back to Arlington for celebratory high fives (and maybe a beer or two) all around.

Please take a chance to pre-register for either the 600 or the 200K if you plan on riding either. We would really like to get an idea on what kind of head count we will need to buy beer…er… snacks for. No, I meant beer.

More pictures can be found here.

I’ve been practicing mounting and dismounting my bike in preparation for cyclocross this season. Looking like a jerk on the ball-field of my local community center really paid off. I was able to look like a jerk in front of a whole group of racers with ease.

I met up with Dylan downtown last night as he got off of work. We rode down to the secret spot somewhere near a body of water. There were a couple of riders there already and a cooler full of free beer (I think I’m going to like this sport). Some markers were still being laid down for turns, so we had time to converse I got to meet some new people as the others arrived, mostly on time.

We took a couple of practice laps and I realized pretty quickly that I was going to have to just do my best to hang on. I tapped the wound on my leg (from Sunday) with my rear wheel and it started bleeding down my sock. It was a pretty rough start considering we hadn’t even actually got racing yet.

It was a fast course with no real running, just a couple of barriers (which was really helpful for practice/confidence) and a mix of road, gravel and grass.

Sunday’s ride helped my dirt/gravel confidence, but I still had to find my rhythm. The only thing that saved my ride was my endurance, because I wasn’t nearly fast enough overall. I started to catch and pass a few people towards the end of my ride as they started to fatigue.

I lasted 4 laps (they were pulling after a couple) when my I over torqued my wheel on an uphill right after the line. My chain dropped and I called it a ride. I might have caught one more person, but the rest of the group was way ahead of me and looking strong. It was fun while it lasted.

Apparently, none of the “fast” guys were actually there, so it should be interesting to see how quickly I get lapped next week.

I had better get my ass in shape too, Starcrossed and SSCXWC are coming up quickly. I’m hoping to end up in a wonderful mid-pack filler form by the end of the year.

The truth is though, I just really want that free beer.

Photo by John Leach

This weekend was all kinds of rad.

I was mentally prepared for a while to do the SIR 300K – Three Volcanos ride. Everyone who has done it swears that it is an amazing ride and it always ends up being kind of a sleeper hit. Perhaps because of the start all the way in Packwood (an hour and a half from the city), it tends to have a lower turnout than most.

Chris mentioned that he planned on racing the Dead Baby Downhill this year. There was free beer and games with registration. That, the fact that it wouldn’t kill a whole weekend, and the fact that Jane would actually want to join me, all cemented my plans to ride the DBDH instead of the 300K.

Somehow I’ve missed out on the thirteen (!!!) other DBDH rides, but this one was completely glorious. I met up with some friends at All City Coffee right after work on Friday. We all rode up to Capitol Hill for the start at the Canterbury. We were some of the first to arrive so we grabbed a table and started in on the beer. I hadn’t eaten since… oh… 11am, so the warm buzz hit me pretty fast. I’m not sure if I even paid for any of it. I think I owe someone a beer or two. I’m pretty sure that I went in to the ride with the idea that I was definitely going to race. After a couple of beers I had a firm “we’ll see what happens” idea in my head.

Jane met up with us after her haircut appointment. She was a little disappointed that I wanted to go fast, but she had a couple hundred other people to keep her company. We corked most of 15th ave at the start and somehow got a fire truck to pace us out. I started a bit further back than I was hoping to. Everyone seemed to have a pretty gentle pace and I was itching to go. I started to make my way up towards the front of the group I was in. A guy on a BMX stood up to accelerate around the fire truck and took a huge spill right next to it. I was a bit surprised that he didn’t just fall right under it.

I took a turn down Madison and followed the flow of bikes that were stopping traffic. I’ve never been able to completely ignore traffic lights at quite a pace like this before. Even at the time, I knew it was pretty stupid, but it was thrilling.

We bombed down 12th towards the International District and I made my way through some streets that I thought might be more kind on me, traffic wise. It seemed to work because I found myself up towards the front along with Chris and our friend Chuck. Everyone was pace-lining down Airport towards the finish in Georgetown.

A semi pulled out in front of us slowing our momentum for a minute and confusing a few long enough for the group to breakup a bit. We made a little jump in behind the truck and pushed hard on the bump that rises over the train tracks.

At the line, there was a guy ticking off the places (apparently not for long?) and he said “8th” to me. Our buddy Hahn was at the line cheering us on. Apparently, he and a friend had been there for a few minutes already (on a 7 mile course). Way to humble some kids, guys.

The water bottles that we got at the start were fill-able with unlimited beer for the night, so we got to work.

There were 3 stages set up with bands playing all through the night, multiple bike related carnival rides setup by Cyclecide from San Fransisco, and (of course) tall bike jousting. It was a pretty glorious event that truly filled the cockles of my heart.

Saturday morning, we slept in. Then we ate.

On Sunday, I took the Salsa Casseroll out with some knobby tires for my first ever (real) dirt ride. Chuck and his friend Julie shepherded me to the new Duthie Hill Park in Issaquah and I gave my best attempt at riding around in the mud. A single speed cross bike probably wasn’t the most appropriate setup for my first time ever riding singletrack, but it was crazy fun anyways.

I actually fell hard three times (twice in the exact same spot) and almost fell pretty much all day. The last fall was on the side of a log and it knocked me around enough to where I gave up on the day. Further attempts to accelerate up hills just started to really hurt. Still, I had a wonderful time and a couple of scars and bruises to remember it by. You can’t knock that.

The last few weeks have been solid in their awesomeness, if not a bit busy.
Two weekends ago, Jane and I finished our 4th annual Seattle to Portland ride with some good friends. I made a promise on twitter that I would take photos of all of the scenic sections of the ride. I can’t remember if I saw any. Maybe I am a bit jaded after the scenic tour de force that was the Cascade 1200.

It is funny how time slips on by without much notice though. 4 years ago, STP was the event on my calendar as I was coming straight out of chemo. We had literally 3 months to train and get my body back into shape for it after my stem cell transplant. Perhaps needless to say, but it was a bit easier this year.

Saturday night, we took a detour off the course in order to stay at the Great Wolf Lodge in Grand Mound (just north of Centrailia). The water slides were killer and a hot tub after a day in the saddle is something to be cherished. The Great Wolf will be a destination from here on out. Big thanks to Chris for ferrying our bags around for the weekend (and having time to hit the waterpark with us).

The ride itself was pretty uneventful. We made sure to take plenty of “real food” stops that I think everyone appreciated. We weren’t the fastest group ever, but it didn’t matter. While we were actually on the road, we kept a pretty quick pace.

Once we made it in to Portland on Sunday,  our friends Joshua and Brit were amazingly gracious hosts to Jane and I. It was almost over the top in it’s awesomeness getting served beer and steak while watching le Tour on actual cable TV (I’m pretty cheap at home). I really love Portland more and more each time we visit.

We had a chance to repay them this weekend when they came up to Seattle. Jane and I made a list of all of the joints that we wanted to take them and attempted to get to most of them. It was ridiculous just how much money we spent over the course of 2 days on food and drink. I’m pretty sure it was worth it, but it is all a bit hazy now.

I need to go on some sort of diet now. All of my fitness from Cascade is probably shot already.

The whole weekend lead up to an over the top feast with a bunch of Thundering Hooves porterhouses purchased from Capitol Hill’s new butcher, Rain Shadow Meats. We pulled fresh carrots from the garden and roasted those as well, with a pesto made from the greens. Josh and Brit pulled together a massive salad and some stuffed portabello mushrooms for Chris and Emily.

I’m still annoyed that I had to go back to work today. Some weekends just don’t deserve to end.

It is a shame; somehow I have never been able to ride SIR’s summer 100K out of Olympia. It always seems to fall on the weekend of Cascade’s Seattle to Portland Classic. Jane has a pact with some friends to do STP every year until they are physically unable to anymore. As they get more and more comfortable with the ride, the training gets reduced a little further each year.

This is year four of STP, and we only have a couple of solid rides together as actual training. With that in mind, I talked Jane into riding the SIR 100K Populaire. As an added bonus, I knew that she would get a sweet medal just for finishing.

I’ve been thinking about doing STP with a fixed wheel for a while now, so I set up my Salsa Casseroll as rando as possible (fenders back on and a saddlebag with all of my gear).

We left the house at around 8 or so for the 9am start. We both had in mind that Olympia would take about 30 minutes to get to. We both knew that it would actually take an hour or more, but I blame the pre-coffee haze. We rolled up to the sign it at around 9:15 with everyone gone. I did my best to hustle and change my shoes, pull the bikes off the rack, and get signed in. Jane almost forgot her helmet altogether. I asked the organizer Paul Johnson when the first cutoff time was. He said he wasn’t too worried about it. We weren’t really on the road until 9:30 though.

We rolled out through some nice bike laned and tree lined streets in Olympia before hitting some gentle rollers leaving town. Jane was a good sport about everything, including my attempt to keep a steady pace. I had to get used to my own bike again since I had just drastically lowered my gear ratio with a new front chainring (48 to a 42). Still, it was a pleasant morning, if not a bit cooler than we figured it would be.

The first control was in Rainier, WA (not to be confused with the mountain) at a convenience store that was terribly low on actual convenience. A good selection of their stock was out. They had a sign mentioning why, but I didn’t really take note of it. I’m guessing they are closing down at some point. We grabbed some candy bars and paid up. Once outside, I looked at our receipts and noticed that we had just made the cut off time by 2 minutes.

Back on the move, the ride turned us off on to a beautiful, almost no traffic road that lead out towards Skookumchuck Road. It was a really pleasant few miles and the sun started to come out of the cloud cover.

We didn’t see another rando on the road until well in to the ride. There was an out and back to the Skookumchuck Dam where SIR had a secret control setup. There were oranges, watermelon and cantaloupe on ice that all were amazingly delicious at the time. Bill Alsup and a (newbie) friend Amy were there. I talked Jane into keeping on the move and we ended up leaving before them. They stayed close to us for most of the ride though, passing us eventually when we made an unmarked stop in Tenino for supplies.

After a short ride along the one busy road of the day (Old Highway 99), the route pointed us north back towards Tumwater and Olympia. There was a final control about 10 miles from the finish where we caught back up with Bill and Amy. Once they left the store ahead of us, I knew that we would have the honor of the laterne rouge distinction.

We pushed on, dispite complaints of tender “lady bits”. We were almost there!

On the final turn in to the finish at Fish Tale Brewery, I handed off my taillight to Jane so she could have a steady red light to celebrate the placement and the finish.

Beer and burgers were eaten.

In case you’re wondering, the title is a direct quote from a coworker when I told her how long my bike ride was going to be. I’m still not sure what that means.

I’ve been sitting on this ride report for longer than I should have. My brain couldn’t even process all of the things that happened and the places that it had been in such a short period. Right when I got around to reaching a lucid state, we went on vacation to Portland.

Chris and Emily were nice enough to drive us out to the Monroe start just in time to get our bike gear checked. It was a different ride from the start with tons of people in from across the country and even a few international randonneurs. Not every club shares our love of fenders and mudflaps, so it was interesting to see what everyone planned on sitting their asses on for the next 3 to 4 days.

After morning announcements, we got off to a large bunch start with everyone sticking together for the most part. It was a chance for most to chat with old and new friends alike.

Chris, Joe Platzner and I stuck together all morning on the rollers out to Cumberland where the first round of volunteers were waiting to sign cards. We skipped the first convenience store and opted instead for a bathroom shortly after in Nolte State Park.

The weather was typical Pacific Northwest with overcast skies and temperatures creeping around the 60’s. Eventually, on the way out to Eatonville, the clouds parted and we got our first hint of warm weather. The Truly Scrumptious Bakery in town was a welcome respite from the sun. We made some time to get sandwiches and coffee to make up for the early lack of caffeine. Everyone at the bakery was really nice and on top of their game handling a group of dirty, time constrained cyclists.

Familiar roads, some quiet and some busy, brought us in to the last safe haven before the climb to White Pass, Packwood. I have some interesting memories of camping outside this Shell gas station with Matt Mikul on my first attempt at Jan’s 600K. I was nursing an Achilles tendon problem and a disappointment in myself for not finishing.

I felt fairly strong while climbing White Pass. It was our first major push of the weekend, so I was still fresh. We stuck it out as a group though. I was happy to have the company. If there is anything I’ve learned from this year, it’s that a ride with friends is always better than a slightly faster ride by yourself.

We got a little scare when Chris took a spill off the road on the climb up. It was a moment of inattentiveness (one I’ve made myself) that lead to a crash and tumble on to some rocks. His bike was fine and he seemed to be okay with a couple of Tylenol. We got back to business.

The sun was starting to set by the time that we reached the top of the summit. There was a large wedding party at the lodge and everyone seemed to be well lubricated. Joe crashed the party to use their bathroom and we all suited up for the descent. It was a nice feeling to be on the forgiving side of gravity once again.

There was one final control before the overnight manned at Clear Lake with some gratuitous (but easy) rollers thrown in after the fact. The sun was officially down for the count and we had a mostly downhill run to the finish line for the day. Still, it was 50+K of downhill and felt like an eternity when all I wanted to do was get some rest for the night.

We reached Naches Middle School, our overnight, at around midnight if I remember correctly. It was all a little hazy at that point. We hit the showers and I laid down to what was easily the least comfortable couple of hours of sleep that I’ve ever gotten on a gym wrestling mat.

I woke up with the grace of a zombie.

As is the theme of this ride, we woke up with a climb ahead of us. It was an out and back to a campground near Chinook Pass at about 3,600ft. It was a steady grade the entire way, but it seemed to go on forever. Round trip from Naches, the climb and descent lasted almost 150K.

Chris and I lost Joe along the way and latched on with Ian Shopland to ride Old Naches Highway and a few backroads out towards Fruitvale. I got a flat on a climb and quickly heated up while changing my tire. We were definitely on the east side of the Cascades now. I felt totally out of my element riding here.

As soon as we rolled in to Fruitvale, I got a bad vibe from a bunch of locals who were upset with the group. Some older, grumpy trucker used me as an example to bitch at the cash register lady in Fred Meyer. It was a low point in the ride for me. I knew that Day 2 would be the toughest to slog through since I still had so much ahead of me.

I made a phone call to Jane and let her know how I was doing. I was already missing home quite a bit. It is weird what a couple of days away from loved ones will do to you mentally.

Out of Fruitvale, we picked up the Yakima Greenway Trail and dodged some meth addicted fisherman before getting on to SR-24. This road carried us past acres and acres of the Washington’s finest hops. Between that fact and the heat, I was getting pretty thirsty. We had almost 70K of arid road between Yakima and what would be our next water stop, so we had to conserve our water pretty well. Even with 3 bottles on board, that wasn’t the easiest task.

The Vernita rest area was a little oasis for us. I kicked off my shoes and we all laid out in the grass for a while. Lots of the locals were quizzing us down about our route. I’m never sure whether I should give the long or the short version. “We are going about 780 miles” leads to all kinds of questions about our route but “We just came from XX” doesn’t usually explain why I look like I’m on the verge of death. Oh well.

We climbed a short but crazy steep road before a long farm road stretch in to Mattawa. It was at the top of this climb that we saw Irene, a rider from Colorado laid out on a SIR supplied mattress. Dan Turner was standing in front of the sun so his shadow would cover her face. She looked like she was out cold. I was kind of jealous that she was laying down and I wasn’t. Funny, the stupid shit that runs through your head at times like that.

Mattawa was a town seemingly built by and for Mexican farm workers. They all seemed pretty confused/amused that we were riding through their city in neon dayglo at just around sunset on a Sunday evening. Some of the local children were showing off their department store BMX bikes by doing burnouts in the dirt near SIR’s tent.

We got back on to the road just in time for an unholy amount of flying creatures to attack us near the river along SR-243. There was no orifice that you could breath out of that would have been safe from this plague. I’m still picking them out of my hair.

There were a few ups and downs left (mostly the former), but we got into the overnight at Quincy High School about the same time as we got into Naches the night before. It was more of the same – shower, eat, sleep, eat, ride.

Ian, Chris and I hooked up with Gary Prince for a quick start out of Quincy and on to Dry Falls Visitor Center. We even had a little time in the bank to stop at a pretty awesome coffee shop in Soap Lake for breakfast #2. I couldn’t possibly eat enough food that weekend…

Dry Falls was just stunning. I really hope to go back and visit it again soon.

We had 40K to go before our next control in “Farmer”. It was the longest 40K I’ve ever ridden in my life. I’m pretty sure it was all uphill, the entire way (okay, maybe not). The sun was beating on us like a hammer, the winds were whipping and there was no shade to speak of. The scenery was completely stunning, but I was hurting and felt just painfully slow. Gary was nice enough to hang back with us. Ian was feeling strong and took off after Dry Falls. I don’t blame him one bit.

The control was in an old barn or… school house or… I don’t even remember. The heat of the day pretty much destroyed that memory. It was cool and there was food and water. I remember that much. I ate the heck out of some sandwiches and Doritos that weekend, let me tell you.

Chris and I lost Gary and got on with a guy named Dan Barbasch out of Ithaca, NY. We seemed to climb a bit higher and higher along the route before finally dropping in a wonderful descent into Bridgeport. I was never quite so happy to be going downhill, fast.

The next control was in Malott, right after a freshly paved stretch of road with a bit of descent. It really felt like heaven to ride on. Sandwiches were dispensed at the control and I tried to catch a cap nap in the SIR chairs. Fatigue was really starting to catch up with me and I knew that I still had a mountain pass ahead of me before getting to the overnight control. Things were looking up, but I was just really damned tired. Every single one of my contact points (feet, butt, hands) were hurting in one way or another.

It was right before Loup Loup Pass that Chris noticed his Achilles tendon starting to really hurt. He did his best to spin as much as possible, but the pass starts off with a really steep pitch and only seems to let off occasionally. I hung back with Chris (tired myself, anyways) and we slowly made our way up the climb. We stopped a couple of times for a bit of rest. I’m pretty sure that he was basically spinning with one leg and was totally unable to stand up for more power (and to get off his butt). I felt really bad for him, because it only seemed to get worse as the day went on.

Gary Prince caught up with us a couple of miles before the top. He was riding the 1000K and had an extra 20K to do that day. Needless to say, we were poking along pretty slowly. He hung back with us for encouragement and to generally just bug us (sorry, Gary).

I bombed down the other side of the pass trying to keep an eye out for deer. There is a high rate of dead deer on this stretch and I noticed 4 or 5 out. Thankfully, nothing darted out in front of me. Gary, Chris and I hobbled in to the overnight slower than I thought possible. Gary was nice enough to keep quizzing us to keep everyone awake. It was all stuff that I wouldn’t know if I were “sober” though. “How many rotations of your wheel at X speed…” I’m pretty sure I wanted to punch him by the end of the night. I mean that in a very loving way of course…

Emily was helping man the overnight and I was pretty positive that Chris was in a lot of pain. We took a wait and see approach to the next morning as to whether or not Chris was going to keep going. It would have been really easy to call it a ride there. This was important to him, but there would be other Cascade 1200’s in the future.

We finally got to sleep on real beds with real pillows. It was a glorious overnight control filled with happy volunteers and riders content with the ability to see the end in sight.

The next morning we ate breakfast and got our gear on. I went out and started talking to Chris Ragsdale and some of the volunteers about the situation. They suggested that we could immobilize the ankle if he wanted to give it a try. Normally you would use bandages, but nobody had that on hand. What is the rando way to do it anyways? Duct tape, of course. To my shock, Chris was in to the idea.

They wrapped up his ankle and we set out from the Mazama control to conquer Washington Pass (5,477ft!) and Rainy Pass right after that (4,855ft). We started to ride better than we’ve ridden in a couple of days for some reason. The end was in sight. Other than the ankle, the vicious saddle sores, the blisters on both of my feet, and general fatigue, I think we both felt 100%.

I honestly cried on the last couple of miles to the top of Washington Pass. It was so insanely stunning and such a beautiful cap to an epic (yeah, I said it) weekend. I couldn’t even handle it. That pass (not the finish) was everything that I had worked toward. From the moment I read about randonneuring, I knew that this was the ride that I wanted to do. PBP next year will be awesome, but Cascade was in my backyard. What a backyard it is.

We stopped for photos at the top and made our way down to, then up and over Rainy Pass. The descent wasn’t nearly as fun as it should have been. There were heavy head and side winds whipping us around the road and generally killing speed. Despite getting enough sleep the night before, the general lack of it all weekend was starting to catch up to me. I felt like I was making stupid mistakes with bike handling.

Around Diablo Lake, I asked Chris if we could pull over for a nap. He didn’t need any convincing. We both passed right out in a field of grass for about 15 wonderful minutes. It made all of the difference at that point. We were able to hammer a bit harder to the bottom and in to Newhalem for some much needed food.

The next official stop came shortly thereafter in Marblemount. We ran in to Dan Jensen and Jeff Loomis and swapped stories about what all hurts. Everyone was in pretty good spirits. Half of the day’s ride was behind us.

Chris and I got out ahead of Dan and Jeff somewhere going towards Darrington. We stopped for a quick bite to eat and to let our loved ones know that we only had about 100K left. We got about a mile down the road when Chris coughed and froze up on his bike. I kind of freaked out because I couldn’t tell what was going on, I just knew that something was wrong. We came to a rolling stop and I helped him get off his bike. His cough pulled a muscle in his back that he had fell on Day 1 going up White Pass.

We had him lay out on the road and tried everything to get it to calm down, but nothing was helping. He told me that he was going to call it a ride. That was the hardest part of the weekend. He rode until completely broken. I wanted to just stay there with him. We were so close. It wasn’t really fair.

Dan and Jeff caught up with us and had a Irene from Colorado along with them. They waited with me while the sag wagon came and picked up Chris and his bike. It wasn’t fair.

We got back on the road at a pretty fast pace. I just wanted to finish the damn thing already.

The back roads took us almost to Arlington and in towards Granite Falls. After 70K of relatively flat roads, the climbing started back up. One could generously call them rollers, but there were some really stiff climbs. They felt that way with 4 days of riding in my legs anyways.

Somewhere along the way, it started raining a bit. Pretty soon, the skies opened up and it was a full on drenching. We were joking with Irene that she was now getting the full Seattle riding experience. Truthfully though, it was raining even harder than normal for a while. This ride wasn’t going to let us coast on in to the finish.

Irene mentioned that she was getting cold. It was wet, but it wasn’t especially chilly out. I asked her when the last time she had eaten was. It had been a while and she started to bonk a bit. We all stopped together and made sure that everyone was eating and had some warm clothes. We had a couple more bonk scares on the way in to Monroe, but we stuck together as a group and stayed safe. Thanks to everyone for helping me finish.

I came in to the final control with an hour and a half to spare. It was a bittersweet finish. Chris and Emily were there to give me congratulations and hugs.

You’ll see us out there again in 2012.

I can’t even to thank all of the volunteers who helped put this ride on. It is a wild undertaking and most of them got as little sleep as we all did.

I’m positive that my words didn’t do it justice.

You can check out some of my 100+ photos on my flickr account. As of this writing, I still haven’t labeled many of them. I’m getting around to it.

This state is unreal. I’m constantly astounded by it’s beauty.

Chris, Dylan and I spent the weekend leapfrogging fellow randonneurs in and around the Cascades for a total distance of around 375 miles. We stopped a lot, ate many sandwiches, and talked in depth about what the Japanese enjoy about tentacles (you probably shouldn’t ask if you don’t know).

Somehow I managed to wake up at 3:30 on Saturday morning and get coffee on the stove going. Jane was smart enough to make me get some croissants from Bakery Nouveau on Friday. Breakfast was pretty well taken care of.

Chris came over and we drove to our 5am roll out of Issaquah at the Tilden’s house on Lake Sammamish. There were maybe 50 riders at that start. Everything started out smoothly as we took familiar roads out to Sultan and out towards Steven’s Pass.

60K in, our group stopped along Highway 2 for a flat. It would be the first of 5 for the weekend. We weren’t in any particular hurry though. I was pretty committed to keeping the good company for the remainder of the ride. I might have had a fast (for me) time on this ride in 2008, but I was also alone a good chunk of the ride. My jokes aren’t that funny anyways, but they really suck when I tell them without anyone to hear them.

Thanks to the early flat, we were towards the back of the pack pretty quickly. Mark Thomas and Bob Brudvick were manning the control at the start of Old Cascade Highway. Bob tried to impress us with his crappy joke skills and Chris upped the ante with an even worse one.

Old Cascade Highway is a real stunner. The pavement is butter smooth, surrounded by trees along a river, and there is almost no traffic. It is especially sweet coming off the “Highway of Death” (US2). Alas, it only lasts for a few miles before pushing you back out on to the highway. The rest of the climb to the pass is stiff, but relatively quick. You top out at around 4,000 feet. High fives were had all around.

The descent to Leavenworth was the same as always, too long and filled with way too many rollers. It’s saving grace is really the view near the bottom of the stretch. The rivers were especially wild over the weekend thanks to heavy rains all week and warm temperatures melting off snow-pack.

We rolled through Leavenworth and soaked in the tourist trappy goodness. There are a lot of get things to do there, like visiting the “Old timey Starbucks” (stole that from Dylan) or “Old timey Howard Johnson”. The town has a really amazing location, I think they could be a little more creative than a fake Bavarian village. Still, sandwiches were greatly enjoyed after all the ups and downs on the bike.

Blewitt pass was up next. I find either direction of this pass to be fairly straightforward. There is no such thing as an easy climb up a mountain, but Blewitt never really gets too steep and never feels too stressful. I didn’t quite eat enough on the way up, so I was bonking a bit by the time we finally reached the top. Amy and Robin were nice enough to camp out at the top and dispense lots of salty snacks and sodas. It was greatly appreciated.

The real Blewitt was followed by a little climb going out towards Ellensburg. The rise overlooks green pastures straight out of a movie. I had fond memories of this climb and view from 2 years ago, despite being manhandled by the winds at the time. Thankfully, mother nature was a bit more kind to us this time around. We stopped at the top and took it all in. Oddly, there was a medium sized animal’s rib cage splayed out on the guard rail nearby where we stopped. We took it as a sign and kept moving.

We had our third sandwich of the day in Ellensburg at a Quiznos. It wasn’t very good, but it was hot and calorie dense. The goal was to get back on the road and in to the Yakima River Valley before the sunset. I called Jane because I knew that I would soon be without any cell phone coverage. I really missed her. I often miss home when I’m out in the middle of nowhere. It usually crops up the worst when the daylight is fading and the end of a ride isn’t in sight.

Some of that hesitation passed when we finally got into the valley and rode along the gorgeous Yakima River. We traded of spots of “lead bug catcher” along the river. There were thousands and thousands of flying bugs in the air. I was having trouble breathing properly through my nose, so I caught many in my mouth. I was spitting them out for miles. It says something about the beauty of a location if it makes you almost forget about swallowing airborne pests.

We tagged on with some others for the ride up US12. Two years ago this stretch of road was horrendous. There were hard headwinds and rumble strips constantly trying to force you out in to the road. This time around, we elected to take the slow lane as a group of about 8 or 9 strong. It made the ride quick and almost pleasant.

We rolled in to the last manned control before the overnight at some time around midnight. The amazing volunteers had sandwiches and hot coffee brewing. It was a must needed respite for the long road behind us and the darkness ahead of us.

The last stretch to the overnight at Rimrock Lake is long, but I was in good company. Chris, Dylan, Joe and Pat cradled me in their handlebar bags almost all the way into the final stop for the day. We got started in on random stupid topics and made crappy jokes well in to the night.

When we finally rolled in to the overnight (3am exactly, as predicted), I sucked down a bowl of soup and pretty much crashed right out in my sweaty clothes. I almost feel bad for the people that have to clean up after our group rolls through.

We woke up at 6am to a steady rain. I knew it was going to rain on Sunday, but I had kind of hoped that we could get over the next 2 mountain passes before it happened. Bummer.

The overnight crew was cooking up pancakes and coffee for everyone still hanging around. Most of the overnighters had a 5am wake up, but we needed our beauty sleep if we are ever going to become catalog models (I’m still waiting for your call, Rapha). The early hot meal was just what I needed to get back on my ass and in to the saddle.

We finished the slow but steady White Pass climb (from our overnight location midway up it) in about an hour. Once again, it only took about 20 minutes to descend it at breakneck speeds. It was still raining steady and our brakes were feeling a little sketchy, but that downhill has very few turns and no switchbacks to speak of. I was able to not touch my brakes once until the very end where Cory, Ian and some others were waiting at the bottom with a space heater and some cold press coffee (the best of the weekend so far). It was a magical little spot for warming up and attempting to dry out already soaking gloves. My lack of shoe covers was already causing me trouble. I knew the only relief that I would get is on warming up with another pass. Thankfully, there was Cayuse ahead of us.

Cayuse is my favorite pass in the northwest. It is a grueling motherf… well… It is tough, but a feast for the eyes. From top to bottom, there is always something to look at. A waterfall to the right, moss covered trees to the left, mist rising in to the mountain line ahead, it almost makes you forget that burning in your legs. Oh god, did they burn. The final 6 or 7 miles are a non stop sufferfest (especially with 3 passes already underneath your belt). The top (4,700 feet) was covered in snow that had been cleared off of the road. It created walls of ice 8 or 9 feet high at points.

We suited up again for the descent. The speed limit starts off at 35 and picks up to 45mph as the turns open up a bit more. We were bombing down at least that fast. Still, drivers were on our asses until we could safely pull over enough to let them by. When it wasn’t safe, we took the lane as needed (as the law allows here). Most of the descent has no shoulder at all. One particular lady pulled up along side and started screaming obscenities at us. A minute later, a forest ranger whipped by us and hit his lights. Would this be sweet justice for that lady being a bitch? No, he was pulling us over. I did my best impression of a person that wasn’t totally bitter and angry about the entire situation. We got a stern talking to. That guy can kiss my ass though, seriously.

After Smokey the Douchebag let us off, we finished our ride in to Greenwater. I had another sandwich on my mind (among other things). I got an amazing bagel with cream cheese, melted cheddar and ham. Something about the cheese on cheese violence really did it for me.

The slog on Highway 410 finally got us back into Enumclaw (the ‘Claw) and we managed to get some rest on the sidewalk in while fixing another flat. I called Jane again while laying out flat and staring into the cloud filled sky. I probably could have easily fell asleep right there. 80K left to go.

I landed our last flat on the run up to Issaquah. My hands are still dirty from fixing that flat. My bike looks like it took a swim in the Gulf.

We made it in to Redmond and joined up with Jennifer Chang and Dan Jensen. We formed a mega group and destroyed the final 16K in to the finish. I added an hour or so to my previous finish time (and got a lot less sleep), but it was a hell of a lot more fun this time around. We seemed to leap frog a number of awesome people that kept the whole weekend interesting.

The Tilden’s and everyone helping were all awesome in putting this ride on. They had a fire going in the backyard with beer and spaghetti (you can’t go wrong with that combo) on hand to soothe the stomach.

Thanks especially to Dylan and Chris for holding my hand the entire ride. They both have baby soft skin. I don’t think they’ve worked a hard day in their lives. My generation (and Chris apparently) doesn’t like to work hard.

Update: Finally added some photos

Jane and I spent the weekend in Washington’s Mexico. We dropped of Chibi Friday morning and hit the road with our bikes in tow towards Portland.

We started things off right with a “Maximum Fun Tour” that had us hoping from one location to another (mostly involving food and drinks) on our bikes. There were some old favorites and some new to us joints that we ended up at. Jane made up a super ambitious list of 8 or 9 spots that we couldn’t quite finish. Considering we didn’t get in to town until 2pm (and the fact that it was raining all day), we did quite well. The list was as follows:

1. Kenny and Zuke’s – split a pastrami Reuben – amazing as usual
2. Powell’s Books – I don’t usually buy many books, but they get me here every time
3. Voodoo Donuts – Top Pot is still much better. Sorry kids.
4. Stumptown – Gotta let the donuts settle
5. Ping – Meat on a stick and some of the best ramen I’ve had in a while
6. Apex – Belgian beer and Giro on the TV. Not too shabby. The interior needs some work though.
7. Apizza Scholls… or not. Sold out of dough an hour and a half before they close. Lame. Probably didn’t need to eat more anyways. I’ve heard this is common for them. Here is an idea: MAKE MORE DOUGH EVERY NIGHT. You can have that one for free.
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