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.

I was pretty determined to stick with Dylan, Joshua (up from Portland) and Chris all day. If only to use “That’s what she said” jokes and talk about relaxing on Abraham’s Bosom (man tits). 400K was bound to fly by if I was blinded by cheap laughter.

Saturday promised to be sunny and 75 degrees according to the weather people. I’m not sure we ever got quite there, but it was pleasant enough. The air was cool enough for me to leave my arm and knee warmers on throughout the 250 mile ride. The result is the weirdest tan lines yet. I have a stripe round my wrist and and oval over the top of my hand. There is a pink band around the middle of my calf. I wore shorts on Sunday just to show them off.

Joshua arrived at the train station on Friday afternoon after I got off of work. I rode down and picked him up. He was going to get to sleep on our luxurious couch for the evening. I made up some pasta and we drank too much beer while watching No Reservations on Netflix. I was pretty determined to get to bed at a decent hour. We had a boat to catch at 6am.

For some reason, I didn’t sleep especially well. I knocked right out at first, but eventually woke up around 2:30am and couldn’t really settle back down. The alarm finally went off around 4:15 and I got up to get some coffee brewing. It was going to be a long day.

Chris showed up at 5 and we rode out to catch the ferry out to Bremerton. I enjoy the ferry generally, but it was disappointing to have to work it into a ride schedule. The final ferry out of Bremerton (also the finish) was at 11:40pm. I was pretty sure that I wasn’t going to finish that quickly with stops. I decided to be content with a more relaxed pace with some good friends.

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I had two goals for the day: 1) Don’t throw up and 2) Finish the damn ride.

I was successful at both. Somehow I even knocked 2 hours off of my last 200K’s time on top of all of that. A large part of that was thanks to a relatively easy course and a large group of strong riders at the start that were able to drag my butt into Sedro Wooley in record time. I looked at the clock on our first control and realized that if I could keep pace, we could finish in 6 hours or so. That was pretty much a joke, and I knew it right away. I would never be able to keep that kind of pace, but it was a fun thought.

Our group made some lame attempts at a double paceline that kept snapping off at every incline and decline. Still, I maintained it for as long as I could. We hit a little hill that was short but steep and I snapped off the back pretty fast. I made sure that I was riding within myself and no further, so I let them go off without making a chase attempt.

I was surprised shortly thereafter to find Chris pulled over with a flat. I had been pretty anxious for a nature break anyways, so I stopped and gave him some rando moral support. We stuck together for the rest of the day.

The route took us along 3 or so beautiful lakes headed out to Bellingham (starting and finishing in Arlington). There were some nice little risers (no serious climbing for the day), and some very fun extended descents.

We picked up Don Boothby before getting on to (gorgeous) Chuckanut Dr. and played leap frog with him for the remainder of the day. Every time we would pass a cow (and frankly, that was often), Don would scream at it to give him cream or a t-bone or something. It was amusing and a little frightening. Thanks for the entertainment, Don. He stopped for pie near La Conner and we lost him for a little bit.

Chris and I stopped for the daffodils (thanks, Cecil!) that grow near Mount Vernon just before the annual tulip festival. We got some artsy fartsy photos and enjoyed the breather for a moment.

Don latched back on to our mini group just in time to watch a bunch of migrating snow geese take flight directly over our heads. I’m guessing there were a couple thousand of them, and they all seemed to have to take a dump. It was quite literally raining poop all around us. We were all doing our best to not look up (or smile) and were relieved to not get hit.

Don caught back up pretty shortly after that, followed by Pat Lahey and one other rider (sorry, I’m spacing on your name).

We all suffered through vicious side and head winds for the last 50K. I knew they were coming, but it made the whole process no less fun. I’m pretty sure I was the slowest of the bunch. Any time the winds hit me from the side, it felt like riding through quicksand. In the last 3 or 4 miles, Pat and I lost the group entirely. Chris and Don waited at a light so we could all roll in together (thanks!). All in all, it was a wonderful ride. Thanks to Matt and Dan and everyone for the support.

Greg and Mary Cox have a wonderful toilet bowl for throwing up in. It has good height off the ground and easy access from the finish line. I wish I didn’t know that.

I’ve been completely ruined by a stomach flu for the past few days. I first noticed it on Saturday morning before my ride and chalked it up to nerves or maybe dinner the night before. Midway through the pre-ride though, my body was starting to shut down. Every time I’ve eaten since Saturday, I end up with a weird gaseous, pukey feeling that doesn’t stay too long, but makes it hard to get excited about food. Today is actually the first day that I haven’t felt it, so things are looking better already. Too much information?

Saturday morning Chris and I packed up his car and drove out to the start at the top of the tallest hill in Kent to pre-ride Greg’s wonderful Chili Feed 200K course. This was my third time on the route and I was happy to get back into the randonneuring season. The first time I rode it was my first 200K ever, and the second I set my fastest 200K pace so far. There are plenty of memories on this route, and it appears that I now have more to add to that.

Somehow I messed up navigation to the start so we were really close to being late, but just snuck in on time. I had to pull up my knee warmers on the road. There were an astonishing number of riders for a pre-ride (close to 20) and everyone was a pleasure to ride with.

Everyone stuck together for the most part leading in to Dash Point. A couple of the more serious climbs split us up, but the faster of the bunch couldn’t resist the siren call of coffee at the first control.

Most of the day seemed to work like this (from what I heard/saw). The super fast riders shot out front and towed a few of the relatively fast riders, maybe dumping a few here and there. They would converge on a control and bunch back up like a slinky, only to do it all over again to the next stop.

I got snapped off that slinky in Auburn at 5 or maybe 9 terrible back to back stop lights with a couple of other riders. I lost my rhythm pretty quick, but I knew I just had to keep my own pace for a bit. I didn’t want to cramp up like I had the Sunday prior, and I could feel some of the tenderness from that ride in the back of my legs still. That was fine, except I couldn’t quite keep up with the other two I was riding with, so I ended up in kind of a no man’s land (riding solo) for a while.

Going down Green River Valley, the route stuck me dead in the middle of an official time trial race. I had to slow down so I wouldn’t hit a woman turning around to finish her race. It was really surreal to ride down the road and have these super loud carbon bikes (disc wheels and all) whip by you like you were standing still. The really crazy part was actually crossing the finish line though. People were in folding chairs, waiting for loved ones and snapping photos. I’m sure they saw my bright orange, handle-bagged bike and just shook their heads. What a waste of a digital photo.

I made it to Black Diamond Bakery with one thing on my mind – DONUTS. I bought two donuts and a chocolate milk for $2.50. That place is a steal! Amazingly, everyone else was still there. They were wrapping things up, but it was good to know that I wasn’t that slow. I crammed a donut down and chugged my chocolate milk so I could get back on the road with the group.

Within 2 miles, the group had dropped me. I just really didn’t have it that day. It wasn’t a huge deal though. The sun was out and it was turning into an outstanding day. I found myself in between the lead (main) group and a bit slower group for a long, long time. I was actually really enjoying my solo ride at that point.

At one point I called Jane just to say hi. I think that I usually only contact her when I’m in some emergency situation, so I figured I should change that up a bit.

The climb from Enumclaw into Greenwater is always kind of a slog. It is a scenic one, but I always expect to see the return riders on the decent, taunting me with the fact that I still have X amount of miles to the top. None of the pitches are very steep though. If  you are feeling good, you can climb the whole thing (17 miles) quite fast. I wasn’t feeling good though. My legs were just naturally sore from the lack of distance riding and the Sunday ride prior and my stomach was starting to rumble like it has in the past.

Right before I made it in to town, Geoff and Lynn caught me on the climb and seemed to shoot by me without too much effort. I saw the lead group starting to descend at around that point as well. I wanted to keep the stop short, but I didn’t have it in me. I took the time to rest, hopefully settling my stomach with a Sprite and some light food. 1 million K Vincent rolled up (surprisingly) around then and had a snack and talk with us.

We all rolled out together, and I was dropped again, this time on a downhill. That is extra embarrassing for me, because there is nothing this beer gut does better than whip downhill.

My stomach never settled down though. I fought with it all day to keep everything inside. Once again, I wasn’t able to eat very much. I had the best luck with gel packets though. That is something I’ll keep in mind for the future. They tasted awful, but seemed to really help get some needed calories in me. I spent the rest of the ride basically by myself. I saw Geoff and Lynn pulled over for a flat, and they quickly passed me again after it was fixed, but that was it. I was nursing myself in.

10 miles from the finish, I kept looking at soft grass spots in the sun. They all seemed so appealing. After maybe a mile, I pulled over and flopped my bike down. I sprawled out in the sun and just laid there. It was an amazing feeling. A random bicyclist pulled up and gave me a “Dude, are you okay?”. I gave Chris a call and let him know that I was coming… just very slowly. I spent maybe 5 minutes or so there, it is hard to say really.

I figured that would be enough, but literally 2 miles from the finish, I stopped again. This time it was in front of a fire station. I flopped out again onto the lawn. My stomach felt great until I had to get back up again. I pretty much limped in to the finish. I was a pretty pathetic sight. Bob Brudvick grabbed my card for me and I bee lined to the bathroom.

Doesn’t that make you want to do this ride? It should.

We are starting to piece together our flèche team for the year. The plan is to travel light, long and fast. Chris and I are joining up with Joshua Bryant in Portland to hook out to the Oregon coast up into Olympia.

Chris made this amazing drawing and I added some fonts and what not. We are thinking it would look pretty kick ass on some jean jackets. I’m not sure how that is going to work exactly…

If you really like it, I’m sure Chris would be willing to tattoo it on you permanently for a small fee.

The Friday of the ride, we are taking the train down with our bikes for a 2pm start with Joshua in Portland. We should have a couple of hours to impress the locals with our charm. I’ve heard they don’t see many bikes down there, so those will be a hit, I’m sure.

Last year I rode with a bunch of flatulent, chatty randonneurs that were sure that breakfast was in “the next town”. It wasn’t. It never was!

I have no idea how this year will shake out, but I guarantee it will be an experience. Expect all of the gruesome details (hopefully no vomit involved) sometime in April. I have a bad history with night starts, so I’m looking to correct that. Still, it wouldn’t be a rando ride if I wasn’t questioning my sanity at least one time along the way.

Special thanks to Jane and Norman for once again helping drive us back home. I’m sure they will have a crazy weekend harassing the local hippies. I expect nothing less.

I know one thing is fact, I will be eating nachos at least once when I hit the finish. Olympia Hot Dog Company, here I come!

Lobster Joe

Chris stopped by at 7am to ride the Leschi – Auburn – Leschi 200k on Saturday. Both of us were fresh off colds that kept us off of our bikes for a couple of weeks. Making matters worse (for myself at least), I’ve been eating pasta here and there… and there. There might have been beer and bourbon involved too. It is the holidays after all.

The forecast was “chance of rain” throughout the day. Seattlites know that means “definite rain” at least part of the day. As it turns out, the weather was all rain, all day. It was never dumping rain, but it was a steady drizzle throughout. Enough to soak through every layer I had on and then some. I was decked out in my full wool getup, so I was warm, but it wasn’t very comfortable either.

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Steve Frey blocking wind (somewhat, he needs to gain a few pounds)

Between cooking and eating and cooking and eating some more, I occasionally confuse my body with some exercising. I can only imagine what my muscles must think when I neglect them for weeks on end (up to a month) and then jump on a bike for 10 or so hours in a lump sum of punishment. Thankfully, I don’t much care what my body thinks of it. I’m always happy to get out on the road.

I left the warmth of my bed to drive out at 6am for a 7am start of the 3 Rivers Cruise 200K in Arlington, WA. We could have started later, but I was happy to minimize the amount of night time riding we might be doing towards the end of the ride. Chris and I were joined by Steve Frey, John Whitenack, Jeff Loomis  and Alan Bell. It ended up being a perfect group since we were all riding at about the same pace for the day, and we were all happy to enjoy a sit down lunch mid-ride.
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