Jane found these photo booth pictures from our previous trip on July 4th to Portland. They are disgustingly sweet and I wanted to share them.

We don’t flash our boobs or anything, so I am pretty sure they are work safe. Hey wait a minute, why are you surfing the internet at work anyways?

At our wedding, the resturant had a photobooth. We forced our guests to take pictures and sign the guestbook with the pictures next to them. It turned out pretty fantastic and one of these days I’ll get some decent scans of it. Photobooths are the bee’s knees.

update: I’ve uploaded the wedding photobooth pictures to my flickr account here.

“You guys are taking your life in your hands coming out here,” said the grizzled bar veteran. We were out in the middle of nowhere (or… Cumberland, WA if you must), getting low on water, it was 12:30am, and the last 24 hour convenience store was 25 miles ago. We let out a nervous chuckle and told him, “We know that.”

I want to rewind the story though. Chris and I set out on an all night permanent that would test my stomach’s caffeine tolerance and our ability to ride through the night.

We started from a 7-11 in Redmond across from Sammamish Valley Cycle. Both of us picked up a Starbucks Double Shot for the half way point. We knew that miles 46-80 (at least) would have no where to restock on supplies of any sort. The rest of the ride was a mystery. Nobody was familiar with riding at night at all, much less riding through some of these small towns at night.

The first 20 miles were fairly pleasant through Redmond and Issaquah. There was still traffic as people were starting their weekends and going to bars in town. Everyone seemed to give us space though.

We passed several diapers on the side of East Lake Sammamish Rd. and wondered aloud as to who was going to have to pick them up. SIR had a road cleanup planned the next morning on that very road. Someone was going to be grossed out.

After shooting out the bottom of Issaquah, things got very dark quickly. We both have strong lights, but you could feel the blackness close in around us. The moon wasn’t shining much of anything either. There was a heavy cloud cover for most of the night. I could tell pretty early on that this would be a fine test for the two of us.

Chris mentioned later that he hit his “What am I doing here?” moment early on in that ride. We all seem to have them at least once on a ride, sometimes regardless of the length. I never really hit that wall for some reason though. The novelty of the whole situtation really kept my spirits high. I was more worried about when my fatigue and drowsiness would hit. If one of us got very tired, it probably wouldn’t be pretty.

Our first control was in the small town of Cumberland at about mile 35. As I said previously, we hadn’t seen a single open store since we left Issaquah, and it wasn’t looking like we were going to from here on out. It was pretty nerve wracking at that point. I didn’t want to have to find water the entire ride in the dark. We filled out our information cards to prove we were there and looked around for a loose hydrant at the fire station and the single store in town. Both places were dry.

Chris noticed some voices in behind the store though. It sounded like a party. We weren’t exactly excited at the prospect of begging for water at a party, but we didn’t have a lot of options either. Riding around the street we found it was a bar. At that time of the night, it wasn’t visible from the main road through town. It is amazing that we found it at all actually.

The bar patron gave his line about our lives and followed it with, “You two don’t need to worry about your bikes being stolen.” Thanks man, I was not thinking about it until you said that. He drunkenly repeated the line again for emphasis. If he would of had a peg leg and a parrot, he would have made a fine pirate. The beard was outstanding.

We pulled our water bottles in to the bar. The woman behind the counter was nice enough to fill them for us and I tipped her. The rest of the patrons inside were all completely wrecked. They were hanging on each other, stumbling around and singing country favorites out loud. Some poor soul was butchering said favorite on a karaoke stage. We didn’t stick around for a drink. There was riding to be had.

On our way out, there was loud conversations on the patio. A woman was very descriptive of her “titties”. She proclaimed that “one hangs lower than the other”. Some of the men wanted her to prove it, but she wasn’t going to budge on the issue. A man next to her shouted, “5 bucks a titty!”. I like the idea that she could only get away with showing a single breast and still make money. Maybe he has never seen one before.

Chris and I got a high off the entire scenario and it really encouraged us to push on. At the very least, it gave us something to talk about.

None of the following roads were showing any signs of having an actual 24 hour convenience store. The bar was helpful, but it wouldn’t be there after 2am for us. We were still looking at the possibility of 70+ miles without any real support through tiny spaced out towns in the sticks.

We noticed that we were tracing through some of the roads in reverse that we had taken at the end of the spring 600k. They were pleasant, low traffic roads during the day, and even more so at night. We had some surreal moments like an owl that swooped in low near us and several deer crossing the roads. The tree line went away for a while and the sky seemed to light up for a bit. There were still clouds in the sky, but we could see the silhouettes of the mountains in the distance. It was pretty stunning.

Right before we turned on to SR-165, we noted happily that there was finally a 24 hour gas station. This was the turn off towards our turn around at Carbon Glacier, so it was truly a prime location. I think we both breathed a sigh of relief at that point.

That was quickly followed by an “oh, boy” as bars started to let out on the road. It was 2am and we were glad to be turning away from whatever traffic there was. We had a couple of Fast and Furious cars pass us, but that was pretty much it for the next 40 miles.

There was a steady but easy climb up towards the park at Carbon Glacier. There was a heavy fog that we rolled in to. It left condensation on our glasses. I was having trouble seeing if I didn’t wipe them with my fingers every few minutes. I could hear streams and possible water falls nearby, but we really couldn’t see much off of the road.

At some point my helmet light fell off and I lost an important clip on it. It has done it’s job in the past, but never that well. It is a good excuse to finally ditch it for a better light.

We finally made it to the ranger station that was our turn around point. The Double Shots were fantastic. I had been sucking on Espresso Hammer Gel for most of the night at a steady pace, but I never got overly wired. I think it was all that was keeping my body going really… novelty and caffeine. It was mostly downhill from here.

The descent never really felt fantastic, but it was a steady downhill for most of the rest of the ride. We stopped in at the gas station after SR-165 ends and got water, Red Bulls, and some light foods. Everything was coming together. Neither of us were feeling drowsy at all, despite being close to 5am. It was going much better than I expected it would to be honest.

People were starting to wake up to go to their weekend jobs and traffic picked up a bit. We blew on through Cumberland since we didn’t need receipts (not that we could have gotten any).

The sun wasn’t quite out and I was still relying on Chris for some directions because I didn’t have a helmet light. It was at around mile 101 that we turned on to Kent-Kangley Rd. He looked at the cue sheet and it seemed to be straight from there almost until the end. We were tired anyways, so we were happy to shut at least that part of our brains down for a while. Little did we know, there was actually a right turn that we needed to take only a mile after getting onto Kent-Kangley. We got well over 10 miles (all the way into Kent) before we realized the mistake. The odd part was, we were noticing land marks along the way so we never really questioned our path. Apparently, strip malls everywhere look pretty similar. Who knew?

It took some epic rerouting to get back on course too. Traffic was in full (weekend) force by this point. It was getting close to 8am and people were out to do their business. Kent isn’t what I would call the most bicycle friendly neighborhood in Washington either. We had to take tons of extra hills and ride along some shoulderless roads.

Eventually, we were back on course, and just happy to be within sight of Issaquah. I had planned out my nutrition for the 15 miles we thought we had left, not the 20+ extra miles we had tacked on. We decided that we weren’t going to make it back very soon anyways, so we stopped at a coffee shop in town. I ate the smallest piece of dry banana bread that I’ve ever had the pleasure of paying 2 dollars for. Still, it was better than more Hammer gel at that point. Not much, but a little bit.

By the time we got back to East Lake Sammamish Road, the clean up crew was out in full force. We were pretty amazed at the amount of people that showed up this year. It made me feel better for not having made it in time. Mark’s blog has some photos, including one of Chris and I riding in to say hello.

We finished at 7-11 almost 12 hours and 150 miles after we started.

A fantastic breakfast was eaten and we even made it to the annual meeting. Thanks to Chris for being dumb enough to ride it with me and thanks to Mark for being dumb enough to suggest it to folks that are dumb enough to try it. I’m pretty sure that made some sort of sense.

p.s. Chris took more photos. He is nice enough to let me post them later.

Willy’s wake went as well as could be expected. I saw lots of old friends and we celebrated his life and talked about some good times we all had. He was a very special guy. When it was all said and done, Jane and I still had a couple of days left in San Diego and we planned on making the best of them.

Due to the limited number of meals that my stomach can handle a day, we had to really cherry pick where we planned on eating on any given day. There is a reason I gain 5 to 10 pounds on every trip back, and it is spelled M-E-X-I-C-A-N.

Our very first stop was to a taco shack near our old apartment complex on Banker’s Hill (near downtown). Taco Rey has the best carne asada in a town that sets a high bar on good (cheap) meat. I kept waiting to see the prices jacked up a dollar or two, which I would have happily paid. Instead, we paid maybe an extra 30 or 40 cents at each place we ate. I don’t think we spent more than 10 dollars for two on any meal in the city (the airport not included). These were all admittedly fast food places, but I can’t even go to Jack in the Box for under 10 dollars these days.

We drove the “scenic” route back through town to get to Lemon Grove. My grandfather and my dad were nice enough to put us up last minute in a spare guest room. It is pretty much centrally located to most of the areas that we planned on going in the city. Despite already angry stomachs, we decided to hit up an old burger stand that serves some of the best shakes around. Beef N’ Bun, I salute you.

We crawled our way back home to let the meat and diary settle nicely as we slept.

Breakfast was a no contest decision. Cotija’s was the clear winner. As a matter of fact, there was debate about whether or not we would go there when we first got into town, and then again at some point. Anyone that has ever talked to me about food in San Diego knows that Hash Brown burritos are my favorite breakfast food ever. One of these days they will change management and ruin the recipe and I will openly weep. Sunday morning was not that day. Let me set this up for you. Imagine a massive soft tortilla wrapping eggs, bacon, sausage, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and crispy hash browns. And oh god the hot sauce! I am pretty sure that I only ate one of the burritos in this picture… barely. They are still 4 dollars. The craziest part is, Cotijas is a chain in San Diego, but the only place you can get a good hash brown burrito is in Santee. God bless them for it.

On a side note, I need to dress up for breakfast more often.

After the wake we decided on In N’ Out burger. Washington has a similar chain with an admittedly funnier name of “Dick’s Burger”. They are both a bit silly if you ask me though. I have the mind of a sixth grader.

In N’ Out (heh) has it all over Dick’s (I kill me) in the food department though. The best part is when you order off of the secret menu and get things “animal style” or crazy burgers like the “4×4″ or burgers without buns wrapped in lettuce. The first few times you order like this, it is like you are part of an awesome club. I always half expect to have a newbie working the register who will give me a weird look. All of the kids are well paid and have help with money for college. So again, we have a winner. High fives were had.

We had plans on going out with some friends that night but decided to take it easy since Jane had been feeling poor. Everytime we get on a plane, one of us gets something. It ended up being a nice night in though.

Monday we met my grandfather Tom and his squeeze Zenda for a meal at Anthony’s Fish Grotto. They have one here in Seattle, but this particular location brings back fond memories for me. They have a large pool with ducks and fish where you can take walks before or after a meal. It was one of the places that my family would gather for dinner occasionally. I didn’t exactly capture the essence of the location with this picture, but it will have to do.

That night we met up with our old friend Geoff and his friend Ashley to go into North Park to see some music. Another friend Kelly was playing with a band called Wild Weekend. A Seattle band called The Girls opened and were pretty infectious fun. Two of the boys were down to their underwear and dancing and sweating across the stage. It was a (good) mess.

Wild Weekend came on a little later than I wanted them to, but they were quite good as well. Jane and I got some dancing in too. When it was all said and done, we grabbed some food at Del Taco and got back home for some needed sleep.

I haven’t stepped on the scale since returning, but I am sure it isn’t pretty. Time to get back on that bike.

I ran across this on the hard drive today. It was from an early logo sketch that I was working on that never really panned out. It still makes me smile. Maybe I’ll develop it out a bit and make a t-shirt or something.

Jane managed to snag some last minute tickets on the cheap to San Diego for Willy’s wake this weekend. I’ve been wanting go back down there. Not like this of course, but we will try to get around anyways.

I’ve got a soft spot in (and on) my belly for some good mexican food. It has been too long…

There is a little chain fast food joint in Santee that sells a breakfast burrito that is built just to ruin any fitness I might have gained. It has hash browns, sausage, bacon, eggs, cheese and sour cream in a massive tortilla. Top it off with some of the best hot sauce around and you have one case of me getting fat again.

Like I said, I’ll take the little pleasures when I can get them.

We are hoping to regroup with some old friends while we are down there. There are some many people that have touched my life at one point or another, it will be nice to reconnect.

Chris and I have been on a quest for our R-12’s and we keep hitting these damn road blocks along the way.

The last two months have been pretty well filled for each of us, forcing us to get our ride in on the last possible weekend of the month. This is coupled with the fact that we only share one day off on any given week (Saturday). I am not about to choke now though, even though it might mean missing the annual SIR meeting on the 27th to achieve it. I’ve always been told that the months after the season is over are the hardest to maintain.

Obligations that don’t involve bike riding are kind of silly, yes?

A friend of ours passed away on Sunday at the age of 27…

He was an amazing guy. Always willing to give me a hug. We will miss him greatly.

Waking up at 1am to make it to the start of a 4am bicycle ride really makes you think about things. Am I going completely insane? Am I already there? Did I just pay money to sit on my Brooks for 380 miles?

Jane and Norman were just coming home from a night of debauchery and general good times just as I was getting ready. They acknowledged my loss of sanity and wished me well.

Matt gave me a call early in the morning to let me know that he forgot his shoes at work in Redmond. His girlfriend was nice enough to give him a ride out there and all the way down to Eatonville an hour and a half away. I made my early morning trek solo and did my best to start waking up.

I pulled in to the motel around 3:30 (Matt right behind me) and did a quick inventory check. There were roughly 20 other riders at the start, everyone looking fairly antsy with nervous excitement. Jan Heine and Ryan Hamilton promised probably the hardest ride of the season, and they weren’t about to disappoint.

We rolled out of Eatonville together. I saw Bob Brudvick and Robin Pieper shoot off the side like they were starting a breakaway group in the tour. I never quite got settled into a great pace out of the gates though. I didn’t have a chance to pick up knee warmers and had full tights in my bag, but I was sure that I wouldn’t need them since the ride basically started with 4,000 some odd feet of climbing. I had a hard time getting warm of course. It would have been wise to have them on at the start and just remove them on the way up. Hindsight is like that though.

I lost Matt pretty early on. He got in to a good rhythm that I wasn’t able to match going up towards Paradise at the top of Mount Rainier. Eventually I found a good tempo and was met up with Joe (I think I caught his name… sorry if I’m not getting it right). We chatted about bikes and life and whatever else keeps your mind off of going uphill for hours on end.

We were starting to peak Mt. Rainier in to Paradise right about the time the sun was rising. The views were beyond stunning. I remarked that I had never been up near the mountain when I could actually see it. I felt like I was close enough to touch it.

Paradise had an inn with a nice little cafe that was willing to give me some water. I felt pretty confident that I had all of the food I needed until the next control so I wanted to get moving. I eventually caught up to Jack, Dan and Andy who were all keeping together for the day. We were all enjoying the amazing decent down Rainier. It screams down a long road with perfect visibility for miles. Even people that don’t like descending would feel confident keeping off of the brakes down this. And the views of the valley… god, they were beautiful.

I rolled down with the trio all the way in to Packwood. We were getting food and drink when Matt rolled in behind us. He apparently had a sit down breakfast in Paradise and I didn’t even notice his bike sitting outside. He shortened his time at the control so he could roll out towards Randle with us.

I felt great by this point. I had finally found my legs and we were making good time. The five of us were chatting and keeping each other company in general. I rarely have a chance to talk to Jack on shorter rides because he tends to push so much harder than I do. One of these days I’ll start training to pick up my speed a bit. Of course, I’ve been saying that for a while now.

At Randle we saw Geoff at a grocery stop. He was kind enough to direct us toward some Ensures (my new favorite on the road snack). We layed around for a bit but were out of there before noon. Things were looking pretty solid. I had been buzzing mental calculations all day in my head about when we might make it to each stop and when we might get to the overnight. I had a rough idea of somewhere around 1 to 2am for our overnight into Naches. It wouldn’t be easy, but I felt like I was giving us plenty of buffer.

We all pacelined to the split off out towards Mt. St. Helens. This was our next big climb of the day. Jan had scouted a road that was closed to car traffic (relatively… a few didn’t read the signs), but was washed out in spots. We had an option of staying on the traffic filled roads or setting out on an adventure where we might have to carry our bikes over some sections. We all chose “adventure” (turn to page 36).

Matt and I were dropped by the trio pretty handedly on the uphill. I didn’t really mind at this point because we had found a nice and comfortable climbing pace. It is pretty important to feelt comfortable when there is a good chance that you will be climbing for hours. Unfortunately, this meant that for long periods of time, we were only averaging about 5 mph. Comfortable? Sure. Burning lots of time? Oh yeah.

The views were at least as epic as seen on Mt. Rainier. The trail went straight through much of the blast zone and the trees were still descimated. Thousands of trees all angled over, not quite down on the ground, but dead to be sure. It has been years since the volcano erupted, but the signs are still everywhere. I meant to get more pictures of all of this, but I was working so hard all the way up.

The last few sections of forest road 26 were especially brutal. The hike and bike parts sounded fun on paper but were actually pretty annoying after half a day in the saddle. There were a few loose gravel sections and a few parts that were just plain rocks. The elevation really kicked up towards the end too. My legs were just aching and I was low on water. There was no tree coverage by this point even though the sun wasn’t especially hot. It just added to the uncomfort.

Jan had a control set up where FR-26 and FR-99 met. He gave me a little bit of water to hold me over for the 7 miles out to Windy Ridge. We were scheduled to see him again on the return, so we kept moving.

Windy Ridge was pretty stunning. I would have spent more time soaking it all in if I weren’t so damned thirsty. Jan held promise of more water and some food, so we kept moving.

I could feel my ankle starting to pester me. To tell the truth though, a lot of my body was yelling at me. It always does that. I didn’t put much thought in to it.

We spent a little more time with Jan than I had worked out in my head. Mark Thomas had caught up with us and he was giving Jan a bad time about their differing descriptions of the word “difficult”. The climb to White Pass that was coming up? No big deal says Jan. Mark just laughed it off. We killed some soda, sandwiches and filled up on water. It was time to leave.

After a 4 mile climb up Indepedence Pass, the descent back down towards Randle held some amazing switchbacks that had just enough room in the curve to limit the braking nesessary. It was quite fun. The less my legs spun, the more my achilles tendon started to flair. It was swelling at the time, but I didn’t notice.

I had reworked the math in my head to where I thought we might make it to Packwood by 8pm. The rollers out of Randle had other ideas. I didn’t have it in my legs to power over most of them, so I spent a lot of time spinning. Mark kept me company through most of these portions. My ankle was starting to seriously hurt. I really questioned the logic of cresting 2 more passes on it. If there was an overnight before hand, maybe… but I still had White Pass before that. I wanted to ask Mark if he had ever DNF’d before, but I lost the nerve. I felt about as weak as I’ve ever felt. Close to tears, if not already there.

I could see Matt slowly pull away, never that far, but I knew he had more energy than I did. Even Mark started to get out in front of me. My pace was starting to look pretty pathetic.

I started to get these visions of ways that I might be able to get out of this ride. I had no cell phone reception. The only 24 hour store in Packwood is a Shell station. I drove our car down to Eatonville. I had visions of curling up in my newly purchased emergency bivy outside of the gas station. It didn’t make logical sense of course, it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I felt like I was going completely insane and every part of me just hurt.

Right when we pulled in to Packwood, I got on a pay phone with Jane. I asked her if she was still with Norman, and what the possibility of them actually getting me was. She said they could, and asked if I wanted it. I decided to let it soak in for a minute. I didn’t commit. I sat down and had some food and something to drink. Everyone I’ve heard from states the logic of just waiting a bit and seeing how you feel after some rest.

My ankle decided for me. It wasn’t getting any better, and the rest of my muscles were cooling down fast. If we were lucky (I figured at the time), we would get into the overnight at 4 or 5am. If I was lucky, I might get an hours worth of sleep. I just couldn’t handle it. I wanted my bed.

I told everyone that I was calling it a night. Matt told me that he wanted to stick around with me. I know that he didn’t want to leave me out there alone, and I know that he was pretty tired too. I felt pretty bad at the time. He was killing his Super Randonneur shot for me this year. It was great having him there though. We spent probably 3 hours at the Shell station entertaining and being entertained by the locals.

Nice doesn’t really describe what Jane and Norman did for us. They cut their night short to drive a 5 hour round trip to pick up a couple of guys that didn’t want to ride their bikes anymore. I am glad that I have both of them in my life.

I passed out in the car right away. Sleep never felt so good.

I have plenty of regrets about stopping the ride. I knew that I would. When it comes down to it though, I needed to make sure I stay healthy above all. There will be more chance for adventure in my life. I’ll see to that.

Jane and I were invited to celebrate Gus and Tru’s wedding this past weekend. It was one of the finest weddings that I’m sure I will ever have a pleasure to attend.

Gus is a riding buddy of mine on Thursday nights. He is a talented woodworker and a pretty stand up guy. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting his (now wife) on a number of occasions in and around Seattle. They both seem to make a fine couple.

The event was unique from the start. We were required to hand over all of our camping equipment by September 1st so they could set them up ahead of time on Tru’s families property. As it turns out, they own 100 acres (and seem to be the only inhabitants) on Cypress Island. They own a real house on Anacortes and boat out to a little cabin on the island with a free roaming horse. It almost isn’t real. The whole set up feels like some corny television show. It is beautiful.

We van pooled with some Georgetown friends to Anacortes where they picked us up in a boat that had a D-Day Higgins boat style opening on the front to load and unload passengers.

The weather was pretty much perfect all weekend and the views were stunning. You could see all the way out to the Canadian Cascades from the beach front we were dropped on.

Gus and some friends had come out ahead of time and built 3 outhouses for guests and a number of dining tables that looked very sturdy. Handy men they are.

Our campsite was all set up with a big wooden “Georgetown” sign denoting our superiority to the rest of the guests. Jane and I set up our new sleeping pads and got out to mingle with friends and new family. I suppose we got into the keg a little early, but there was a party to be had.
The ceremony was lovely and again… the scenery….

Now to get a little low brow on you. It was established pretty early on that we would play “Wizard”. We had talked about it while watching the Tour this year, and it was settled that the game would happen at some point. You basically drink a canned beer and tape the finished can to the bottom of your new one. When you have a staff taller than you are, you… uh… win? You are pretty magical by that point anyways. We started after the picnic style dinner was served.

The family seemed to be in on the joke because right away people were asking, “Are you playing Wizard?”. It was pretty amusing to me at the time (of course, I might have been amused by just about anything at that point).

Around 7 or 7:30, the guests that weren’t staying overnight took off and left us campers to our business.

I was starting my eleventh beer when the tape ran out. I am pretty sure that is a good thing because I was getting very stupid by that point. I think Chris and Dave gave me the win by default, but I still think it was going to be a close race. Either way, the sorcery was in the air.

We spent hours dancing before Jane dragged me back to the tent. I’m glad she was there to light my path. Things got extremely dark without any real lighting on the island.

We all woke up in sort of a stupor, but things were helped with some coffee and breakfast foods provided. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted so badly to take a shower though. It would be a while before I would have that luxury.

We spent the morning soaking in the views and the clean air until a ferry came to pick us back up. The choppy waters didn’t treat anyone very well on the boat.

Seriously, probably the best wedding I’ve ever been to (my own excepted of course). The next person to get hitched is really going to have to step it up.

p.s. More photos on my flickr account.

Jane and I started the labor day weekend with a free (thanks to my work) trip to a Seahawks game. We rode down to the 7pm start on Friday night and attempted to locate somewhere… anywhere… to lock up our bikes. After navigating our way around the entire stadium, we found one bike rack that fit maybe 12 bicycles.

The crowd arrived mostly pre-drunk. It was quite a show actually. We got into the suite level and had a good time with my coworkers.

I wondered aloud at what point the cheerleaders stop doing acrobatics, get breast implants, and join the “professional” leagues. They don’t seem to do much more than shake their T & A at that level. Not that I noticed or anything…

On Saturday we did our annual trip to Tacoma with Norman for his mom’s birthday. The first year his dad made an outstanding Hawaiian BBQ meal and we keep hoping for a repeat… but it doesn’t seem to happen. Regardless, we always have fun and get into trouble and embarrass Norman’s folks. This year we ended up at Billy McHales in Federal Way. Imagine Black Angus on a bad acid trip. Spiderman and some of the Monster’s Inc. cast accompanied our sit down meal. The waiter kept changing the pitch and tone of his voice like some method actor who didn’t know which of the 10 roles he was playing that day.

After getting back to the relative safety of home, we stayed up late watching exploitation movies from the 70’s and drinking… well.. a lot. It was a solid night of staying in. Drinking was sort of a theme for the week I suppose. I probably gained a few pounds in the process.

Sunday we had a few parties to attend (keeping with the theme and all) so we kept that ball rolling. Our friend Emily had another solid game (and cake) night and some of Norman’s friends had us over as well.

Monday I talked Jane in to driving a chunk of the SIR Fall 600k with me. Neither of us have been to Mt. St. Helens so it was a good excuse to enjoy the scenery without the searing leg pain. To tell the truth though, I was pretty jealous of the few bicyclists that we saw climbing the passes and bombing down the hills. It was definitely a pleasant enough day to be out on a bike.

It seemed to take quite a while to drive out to Eatonville. I think that was mostly because the highway leading out towards it has miles and miles of a strip mall hell catering to the Fort Lewis crowd. It should hold considerably less traffic early in the morning on the way to the actual ride.

Once we arrived, we didn’t spend long in town. It seemed to be a very cute little town though, with just a few intersecting roads and some friendly looking people.

I was working off of an assumed route based on what I could work up off of Google maps. I am not sure how many major roads we will actually be taking as a group. I know that Jan seems to be good at finding the off beaten paths… so we will see how the actual ride turns out. I am just commenting on what I saw on the roads that we were on.

The inclines started almost right away on some winding roads without a ton of shoulder. Traffic seemed pretty light though, and the scenery was pretty amazing from the start. What wasn’t heavily wooded was open to beautiful lake and river hugging roads. I kept bugging Jane to take pictures, but the cell phone camera was all that we had. If you want, you can pretend that I made contrast rich moody pictures in Photoshop on purpose. It heightens the sense of dread I have about this ride.

We paid to get into the Mount Rainier national park (it will cost 5 dollars to bring your bike in, unless they plan on routing it some other way?). The climb was pretty gentle looking, but very very long on the way up to the Paradise visitor center. This climb should top out at an impressive 5400 feet.

The traffic at the top was fairly intense at this time (maybe 2pm?). I am not sure if it is always like this, but keep and eye out for car doors as they can park almost anywhere on the loop up to the center as well as back down. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of room to squeeze by, and definitely isn’t any room to enjoy the downhill like you should!

Once you get going towards Backbone Ridge, there is a pretty epic downhill  along a cliff side with views of the sweeping valley and trees as far as the eye can see. Everything was breathtaking.

After you get out of the mountains, there is some relatively flat farmland roads leading out towards the tiny town of Randle. It was a pretty boring section in the car, and I imagine it to be even more so on my bike, especially after the eyegasm experienced off of Mount Rainier.

From Randle, we picked up some roads that lead in to the northern end of Mt. St. Helens. Looking at Geoff’s pre-ride report, I think we took the wrong way up the mountain (although I think it was the only accessible by car). We took Highway 131 (NF-25) all the way to NF-99 and drove the impressive switchback filled climb up to the Windy Ridge lookout point (4035 feet). From Randle, the climb was about 30 miles and should be quite a leg breaker, even if I didn’t get to see the exact route to be ridin.

The view from the top was impressive, but not quite the pay off that I would have hoped for after such a climb. Still, it should be a challenge worth facing and the switchbacks will test your downhill skills. Some of the roads are very bumpy and broken though, especially on the downhill side. Use extreme caution.

The drive through most of the mountains seemed to take much longer than I expected so we decided to skip the second half of the ride and get back home. I’ve been over White Pass (4,500 feet) before, and it was a long drive to Chinook Pass. I still had to get up early for my “Monday” after all.

I’m expecting to be taking White Pass in the dark (or close to it), so it should be a whole new experience in that area. Hopefully the winds wont be howling quite as hard as they were around Naches the last time I was through there.

Chinook Pass (5,438 feet) remains an unknown element at this point, but I’ve never heard too much raving or hatred for it one way or another. I’ll see it once I get there, right?

Looking at Geoff and Jan’s ride times (both around 37 hours or so), I can’t help but feel the butterflies rumbling in my stomach on this one. I’m guessing I wont be getting even close to as much sleep as I did on my last 600k overnight.

This is going to be quite a test.

Jane and I started the labor day weekend with a free (thanks to my work) trip to a Seahawks game. We rode down to the 7pm start on Friday night and attempted to locate somewhere… anywhere… to lock up our bikes. After navigating our way around the entire stadium, we found one bike rack that fit maybe 12 bicycles.

The crowd arrived mostly pre-drunk. It was quite a show actually. We got into the suite level and had a good time with my coworkers.

I wondered aloud at what point the cheerleaders stop doing acrobatics, get breast implants, and join the “professional” leagues. They don’t seem to do much more than shake their T & A at that level. Not that I noticed or anything…

On Saturday we did our annual trip to Tacoma with Norman for his mom’s birthday. The first year his dad made an outstanding Hawaiian BBQ meal and we keep hoping for a repeat… but it doesn’t seem to happen. Regardless, we always have fun and get into trouble and embarrass Norman’s folks. This year we ended up at Billy McHales in Federal Way. Imagine Black Angus on a bad acid trip. Spiderman and some of the Monster’s Inc. cast accompanied our sit down meal. The waiter kept changing the pitch and tone of his voice like some method actor who didn’t know which of the 10 roles he was playing that day.

After getting back to the relative safety of home, we stayed up late watching exploitation movies from the 70’s and drinking… well.. a lot. It was a solid night of staying in. Drinking was sort of a theme for the week I suppose. I probably gained a few pounds in the process.

Sunday we had a few parties to attend (keeping with the theme and all) so we kept that ball rolling. Our friend Emily had another solid game (and cake) night and some of Norman’s friends had us over as well.

Monday I talked Jane in to driving a chunk of the SIR Fall 600k with me. Neither of us have been to Mt. St. Helens so it was a good excuse to enjoy the scenery without the searing leg pain. To tell the truth though, I was pretty jealous of the few bicyclists that we saw climbing the passes and bombing down the hills. It was definitely a pleasant enough day to be out on a bike.

It seemed to take quite a while to drive out to Eatonville. I think that was mostly because the highway leading out towards it has miles and miles of a strip mall hell catering to the Fort Lewis crowd. It should hold considerably less traffic early in the morning on the way to the actual ride.

Once we arrived, we didn’t spend long in town. It seemed to be a very cute little town though, with just a few intersecting roads and some friendly looking people.

I was working off of an assumed route based on what I could work up off of Google maps. I am not sure how many major roads we will actually be taking as a group. I know that Jan seems to be good at finding the off beaten paths… so we will see how the actual ride turns out. I am just commenting on what I saw on the roads that we were on.

The inclines started almost right away on some winding roads without a ton of shoulder. Traffic seemed pretty light though, and the scenery was pretty amazing from the start. What wasn’t heavily wooded was open to beautiful lake and river hugging roads. I kept bugging Jane to take pictures, but the cell phone camera was all that we had. If you want, you can pretend that I made contrast rich moody pictures in Photoshop on purpose. It heightens the sense of dread I have about this ride.

We paid to get into the Mount Rainier national park (it will cost 5 dollars to bring your bike in, unless they plan on routing it some other way?). The climb was pretty gentle looking, but very very long on the way up to the Paradise visitor center. This climb should top out at an impressive 5400 feet.

The traffic at the top was fairly intense at this time (maybe 2pm?). I am not sure if it is always like this, but keep and eye out for car doors as they can park almost anywhere on the loop up to the center as well as back down. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of room to squeeze by, and definitely isn’t any room to enjoy the downhill like you should!

Once you get going towards Backbone Ridge, there is a pretty epic downhill  along a cliff side with views of the sweeping valley and trees as far as the eye can see. Everything was breathtaking.

After you get out of the mountains, there is some relatively flat farmland roads leading out towards the tiny town of Randle. It was a pretty boring section in the car, and I imagine it to be even more so on my bike, especially after the eyegasm experienced off of Mount Rainier.

From Randle, we picked up some roads that lead in to the northern end of Mt. St. Helens. Looking at Geoff’s pre-ride report, I think we took the wrong way up the mountain (although I think it was the only accessible by car). We took Highway 131 (NF-25) all the way to NF-99 and drove the impressive switchback filled climb up to the Windy Ridge lookout point (4035 feet). From Randle, the climb was about 30 miles and should be quite a leg breaker, even if I didn’t get to see the exact route to be ridin.

The view from the top was impressive, but not quite the pay off that I would have hoped for after such a climb. Still, it should be a challenge worth facing and the switchbacks will test your downhill skills. Some of the roads are very bumpy and broken though, especially on the downhill side. Use extreme caution.

The drive through most of the mountains seemed to take much longer than I expected so we decided to skip the second half of the ride and get back home. I’ve been over White Pass (4,500 feet) before, and it was a long drive to Chinook Pass. I still had to get up early for my “Monday” after all.

I’m expecting to be taking White Pass in the dark (or close to it), so it should be a whole new experience in that area. Hopefully the winds wont be howling quite as hard as they were around Naches the last time I was through there.

Chinook Pass (5,438 feet) remains an unknown element at this point, but I’ve never heard too much raving or hatred for it one way or another. I’ll see it once I get there, right?

Looking at Geoff and Jan’s ride times (both around 37 hours or so), I can’t help but feel the butterflies rumbling in my stomach on this one. I’m guessing I wont be getting even close to as much sleep as I did on my last 600k overnight.

This is going to be quite a test.