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.

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.

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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As it turns out, beer and an oversized pastrami sandwich are the perfect thing to start a ride out with, even when you have to climb several hundred feet to get out of Portland. Nothing keeps you more awake than a couple of relaxing downers. It looks like we might have to pick up some trucker speed on the road, boys.

I started off the week really sick. Jane had gotten it a few days prior, and I picked it up strong around Tuesday night. I went home from work on Wednesday and called in the next day. I never really questioned whether or not I was going to ride though. I had too much money on the line and a couple of friends that needed me out there. It was just a question of exactly how sick I was going to be when it came time to pedal.

Thankfully, I woke up feeling quite a bit better on Friday morning. I had my stuff laid out and got prepped to ride to the King Street train station with Chris. We got on a 7:30am train headed south to Portland to meet up with Joshua Bryant. We were annoyed from the start with a gaggle of older women who were obviously on a fun weekend trip to do some tax free shopping in “Washington’s Mexico” (I stole that phrase from Dylan, I love it so much). They told us that it was nice that we had “knees” in order to do riding like this. They claimed to not actually have any, despite their obvious leg bending abilities. Apparently, you lose them when you reach their age (their words, not mine). Unlucky for us, they managed to snag seats directly in front of us and started shrieking loudly at each other. Lucky for us, they all hit the bar up front for mimosas through the entire ride after we got rolling.

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I won’t lie to you. I’m going to wimp out on this ride report a bit. I’ve been too busy this week and these things take time. The limited amount of pictures that I took will have to do the talking.

Know this though: I rode well. Mark Thomas was disappointed with my lack of vomiting the last couple of rides.  I think he is going to have to get used to it. I’ve been feeling really good.

I’ve also mentioned in the past that a 300K was my benchmark for my new’ish saddle. I’m glad to say that the Regal has been good to me. It is a definite keeper for this here butt.

I plan on driving down to the Oregon Randonneurs’ 300K this weekend and am crossing my fingers that the weather is kind. I’m not really counting on it though. I’ve gotten too luck on my rides so far this year. I’m pretty overdue for a wet weather pounding.

P.S. Thanks to Gary for putting on an awesome “urban” ride. Special thanks for letting me eat almost 3 Tofu Bahn Mi’s throughout the day. I dare say that might be my future rando food. Watch out for the jalapeno!

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!