A fun day out with the Lone Star Randonneurs.

Winnsboro Wander Permanent, Greenville, TX - December 29th, 2007, 7a.

Just after I finished writing this report, I found out from the Lone Star Randonneurs mailing list that Mark Sachnik passed away in his sleep on New Year's day. I thought he was a humorous fellow, who seemed to love being outdoors on his bike, enjoyed the camaraderie (his own words) and was full of good cheer. Sharon told me later that he showed up at Richardson Bike Mart to meet me, when Sharon came over to hand over her bike to me, but was 20 minutes after we left. This tells me that not only was he a great cyclist (from the way he rode the 200), but also eager to welcome somebody new and and go the extra mile to make them comfortable. His passing is truly a tragedy, and I feel that I am that much more unlucky for not being able to ride with him for long on that day. The full version of this picture, is available at the link below.

We at SIR suffered a similar tragedy with the passing of Steven Hameister during the Olympia 300k. RIP, Mark Sachnik. It was fun crossing paths.

This report suddenly is very much an afterthought in my mind. Pictures are here.

Motivation

The idea of riding a permanent in December in warm temperatures among new environs and randonneurs is highly appealing, and even before my Christmas holiday plans were set I emailed the Lone Star Randonneurs and asked if there was any way we could get together and do a "not very hilly and something to look forward to ride", and how I could get my hands on a bike (rent or otherwise). Several friendly folks responded with offers of help, notably Sharon Stevens (a former PNW resident who has ridden with SIR and ORR), Shellene Foster, Dan Driscoll (the RBA), Jim Bronson, and Pam Wright (Ms Selle Anatomica).

Since becoming one of the Permanent coordinators for SIR, I was very interested in finding out how another club handles permanents and group permanents. And I did learn a few things, which I plan to talk to Geoff (routes owner, and co-permanent coordinator) about. Like one person getting a receipt at the start, and having group signing forms, instead of individuals bringing waivers to the start. I had sent mine in advance, but I did sign again, just to be sure.

Once my travel plans were concrete, we decided to do the Winnsboro Wander on the 29th (one day after I turned 36), with a very nice bakery at the halfway point, and not much climbing. Sharon Stevens offered me the use of her other bike, and also a ride to the start and back, which meant, she had to endure the "pleasure" of my company for the better part of 200k. :)

I was advised to bring all my cold weather gear, and in my infinite wisdom I decided to not take a long-sleeved shirt (after all, how cold could it get in TEXAS?). Well, the forecast for 7a in Greenville was 23 Bleeping degrees. Somehow I had landed in the wrong "Texas"! Luckily my brother gifted me a synthetic undershirt for my birthday, and I donned that under my Wool Jersey, with a Showers Pass Elite jacket over this. The days preceding the ride were indeed cold, and we had some clear-and-cold days and some rainy days, but thankfully there was no rain the day before the ride, so not much threat of ice on the roads.

I met Sharon the previous day inside Richardson Bike Mart in Plano, a few miles away from my brother's house. She was very affable, and she brought her bike! I rode it around the parking lot, and despite the Selle Anatomica on it, pronounced it fit to borrow. I had brought my Brooks B-17 from Seattle for nothing. The bike was fender-less, Aluminium, and a great bike to ride. We (Golfer brother and I) chatted for a few minutes, and then left with her bike; imagine leaving your bike with a complete stranger... We made plans to meet early at my brothers house, and sure enough there was Sharon the next day morning, bang on time. A pleasant ride to Greenville in Sharon's car was spent chatting about randonneuring, how we got into this crazy sport and life in general. Apparently other non-rando cyclists in Texas consider LSR folks "crazy". Our reputation remains uniform elsewhere in the nation!

We met quite a few people (Sharon helped me with this). Brenda Barnell (two-time RAAM finisher), Mike and Nancy Myers, Daniel Schaaf, Sharon Stevens, Lesli Gillett, Mark Sachnik, Russell Kelley, and Sonny (there for a run, and not the ride). Many apologies to any names I may have mangled. Or I could blame Sharon. :)

Start to Yantis, TX

We hung around the start for a little later than the official start, but left a little later than 7.15. Somebody mentioned that the temperature was 27 deg F, a whopping 4 degrees warmer than forecast. This was considerably higher than the 22 deg F at the start of the permanent that I did in Redmond, 3 weeks ago. Almost all of the riders wore balaclavas to cover their face, but I wore a skull cap for the noggin. That kept me plenty warm. I had a helmet cover and rain pants in my Carradice, but I never used them. I also carried a spare wool sock, and 3 spare tubes, but didn't get to use any of them. Sharon admired my route sheet holder, and asked me to put it away as I would not be allowed to be alone or get lost, which was mostly true as she rode with me from start to finish, the only times I was ever left alone was when she had to pee and asked me to continue. [The route sheet was extremely easy to follow and the roads were well-marked. So, I never got a feeling that I would get lost on this ride].

I had my apprehensions about riding in Texas. Some of Lance Armstrong's comments about having somebody drive behind him on his training rides (was it in "It's not about the bike" ?) to prevent vehicles from running him off the road or playing "Chicken" with him. [I have had this "game" played on me, and shall say it is not a pleasant feeling]. Riding in a group calmed my fears, and the conversation flowed freely.

We hung around together for the first few turns, and a gang of 4 took off while Sharon, Daniel, Mark and I rode together for the next few miles. It was freezing cold. Most of the small puddles along the roadside had ice on them, indicating the prolonged sub-freezing temperatures. Luckily, the roadways were completely bereft of any water, and risk of black ice was very minimal. Sharon promised that the route would be an easy one for some one from Seattle, with its hilly terrain, however my conditioning was so pitiful that I never did feel like I had an easy time.

One of the first things that I noticed that the route was well marked. Cars passed us with a great deal of care giving us plenty of room, and if there wasn't enough room, waited for a good time to pass without showing any signs of impatience. This was great. It was yet another lesson: Never believe a few things until you see for yourself. The drivers during the entire ride were very polite, and the number of honks I got were very minimal. I also noticed the presence of a lot of dogs: some of the houses were fenced, but many weren't and the risk was there. The layout of the roads: not many had shoulders, and and usually had no trees by the roadside. It was mostly fence, field on either side. [I am not about to say that all of Texas has country roads laid out thus. I have learned my lesson].

Sharon stopped off to pee, and I was by myself. I was Le Lanterne Rouge, a role I am very comfortable with. I rode along for a little while along FM 1564, and was barely a mile in, when I heard dogs barking a few hundred feet ahead. A group of 3 dogs had split up, one to my left and two to my right, and started barking with their tails wagging. As I started to slow down (not very smart there, was I ?), the dog on my left crossed in front of me, and I swerved to avoid it. Just as I swerved the dog took a nice small bite of my left thigh. I felt a small stab of pain, and it hurt a little for a while, but luckily I escaped without further incident. I don't think it was a vicious bite, more playful than anything else.

I made a mental note of the locality and stopped to survey the damage. I saw that the teeth had not even broken skin, and hadn't left so much as a scratch on my thigh, so I was not worried about it. I had completely forgotten about the incident by the next turn. About 8 miles later, Sharon caught me, and when I recounted the incident to her, she was aghast. She hadn't encountered the dogs, and was wondering if these were the same dogs that Sonny (the triathlete) had mentioned at the start as being near Miller's Grove. This was obviously a different set.

We were soon joined by Mark and Dan, and we rode together admiring the rapidly brightening day, and rejoicing together at the prospect of feeble wind and warm weather. Dan has family in the Tri-cities area, and is conversant with Seattle. I also talked a little with Mark, but I don't remember the details now, something I regret. I do remember that there was a hearty amount of laughing, and Mark mentioned something about doing these rides to enjoy the great camaraderie. On FM 514, we hit a rough patch of chip seal, and this was the worst 6 mile stretch of chip seal on the whole route that Sharon had mentioned earlier. We were lucky to have chip seal: somebody had ridden this route a few weeks ago, and had encountered 6 miles of gravel! I will take bad chip seal over gravel any day.

Dan and Mark soon took off, and Sharon and I rode on. We finally got to Yantis around 10.30a. Dan and Mark had gotten there just a little earlier. The store was small and had standard convenience store fare. The store clerk was cheerful and helped us sign our cards and gave us our receipts. It was clear that he knew the drill. He was also smoking, so I stayed indoors the bare minimum. The day was warming up, and that was the source of much cheer. Mark and Sharon talked about the stiffness of the flags on one of their rides where a strong wind really upset their riding, but the flag near the convenience store was limp.

Yantis, TX to Winnsboro, TX

Dan and Mark left ahead of us, and we left around 10.50a or so, and it was clear that we were working against the wind. Not a fiery wind, but something I could notice. Sharon thought a 6 or 7 mile headwind was nothing, but my cold-addled body could not handle the rollers that dotted the route well enough. Sharon and I talked constantly throughout this stretch, and we crossed a couple of lakes that we didn't know the name of. It was pretty through this stretch and traffic was very minimal, so we rode side by side, talking about the achievements of the Lone Star Randonneurs. No fewer than 9 of them, 5 of them female, had completed 10,000k in brevet+permanent distances of the year. A couple of them, had done 20,000k including the RBA Dan Driscoll. For comparison, we had ONE rider Mark Thomas, who completed 10,000k for the year, and all of RUSA had 2 people in 2006 complete 10,000k. This was astounding. One of the riders Shellene Foster, had started in April 2007. This was fantastic! The club was rife with mileage junkies.

We saw the lead group - for the last time as it turned out - heading out of town, exchanged waves, and were in Winnsboro around 12.20, aided by a nice tailwind for the bit on TX 37. I guessed that the lead group had waited for us, and left when we hadn't showed up quickly enough. It would have been nice to have a group lunch.

Winnsboro, TX to Yantis, TX

Dan and Mark were sitting having sandwiches, and we headed into the bakery to eat. As I walked in to the bakery, several heads turned in my direction. I am not sure how many Asian-Indians they get to see in Winnsboro, but it looked like they don't get to see that many. I felt like a celebrity. The bakery as it turned out, had nothing for vegetarians, and I had not come prepared. So, I got two cookies and a Cinnamon Bun. Well, the stop would be quick. Dan and Mark wolfed down their sandwiches, Mark took a couple of pictures of me and Sharon, and Dan teased Sharon about one thing or the other. Just as we were ready to take off, Lesli rolled in. We took pictures of him as well, and then took off, around 12.50p. I could not finish the Cinnamon Bun; it was too much of a sugar overload.

The same rolling terrain, and gentle wind greeted us, and the sun was now warm. Sharon took off her jacket, but I left them on, but took my skull cap off. I left my booties on, for whatever reason, but I probably should have. Dan and Mark rode with us, but then rapidly took off.

Sharon was very easy to talk to, and we had lots to talk. She asked about some of the characters, and sure enough, I told her about Ken Bonner and his Royal Victoria Marathon amidst a tough 600k ride story, about Bob Brudvik and Erik Andersen, and about Jan Heine. She was curious about my Carradice as she needed something for carrying stuff. She had done a 1000 this year, and I wonder now what she carried all her stuff in. Panniers, I guess. We spoke a lot about equipment and food. It was somewhere on this stretch that I told her about the quote attributed to anyone from Scandinavians to Alfred Wainwright ("There's no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing."). She seemed to get a kick out of that one. Sharon also told me about some of the characters in LSR. We talked about the culture of volunteering, pre-riding routes, and saddles.

Pleasant conversation eats miles and we had made decent time to Yantis, getting there around 2.20p, I think. We saw Dan and Mark ride away, just as we were about to make the left turn to the control. That was the last we would see of them.

Yantis, TX to Finish

I finally managed to rotate the handlebars a little and that made the bike handle a little bit better, and my hands thanked me. I just wished I had done this before I started the ride. Oh well. We set off around 2.30p for the finish, and hopefully we would finish with sunlight to spare. This of course, was not to be.

We rode side by side for much of this stretch, and it was clear that I was fading. The cold that I had contracted from my nephews was now beginning to bother me, and my lack of conditioning showed on any little bump, where Sharon would stay in the big ring, and I would have to switch to my smaller ring. We finally got to the trouble spot on the road, and sure enough the same darned dogs were there. This time, I sprayed them with water, and they ran away. Sharon tried to blow on the whistle, but to no avail. A few hundred feet down the road, a couple of Daschshunds chased us. It was comic relief. We made it to the finish at 6.26p, having never seen Lesli catch up to us.

Sharon dropped me off at home, and I scampered off to a New Years Day party... Yes, one day before New Years Eve.

A hug for Albert Meerscheidt

December R-12: Cold is not a four letter word.

It is not often that grown men hug each other. May be family, may be really close friends, but the handshake is the preferred way between acquaintances, and friends. However, Albert Meerscheidt, who I know more virtually (email) than in person, was the recipient of a hug from me. The first SIR member to get a hug from me. You wondering why?

Wayne Methner organized a group permanent, and an army (of 13) randonneurs rode the Snoqualmie Valley and Falls Permanent this past Saturday (12/08/2007), in really clear, but really really awfully cold conditions. No randonneuses - too much good sense. There was no chance of rain, and the forecast called for clear skies all day. The temperature read 27 deg F at the bank clock (opposite Victor's Coffee shop), and my tropical brain told me that it was too cold to ride. I looked away.

Riders were: Albert Meerscheidt, Wayne Methner, John Vincent, Peter McKay, Steve Davis, Mike Richeson, Gary Prince, Ward Beebe, Bob Brudvik, David Harper, Mark Roehrig, Noel Howes and myself. All of us were on uprights, with Bob and Noel riding SS/Fixie.

Start to Lake Stevens

We decided to start at 7.15 to allow for the guys to get some food and use the bathroom. It was funny to see a whole boatload of randonneurs head straight for the bathroom the second the store opened. We left at the appointed hour, and I led the way - imagine that - until Novelty Hill loomed ahead. John Vincent and I were the only guys bringing up the tail. Albert, for some reason had started late, but he too quickly passed us and headed uphill. The hill was welcome though, as it started to warm me up a little. The pavement was mostly dry, but any water present anywhere was ice. Everything, it seemed, was covered with frost.

John and I rode together this year at the Spring 400k from the Canadian border to the next control (the location of which escapes me now), and are both vegetarians. John had given me a lot of advice about being vegetarian and surviving in France (along with Duane Wright). It was nice to ride with some company, although we leapfrogged each other a lot. The descent on Woodinville-Duvall road chilled me terribly, and I was constantly worried about the slickness of the roads, and so kept my speed under control. Chilled to the bone, and no longer able to feel several body parts, I stopped off and put on my rain pants, which I had not used in months. Carrying that piece of gear saved my ride.

I warmed up on West Snoqualmie road, which had the occasional patch of ice - nothing too worrisome. On Highway 9, we were overtaken by a guy in full rando regalia - nice bike, Bagman rack, Brooks Saddle and a Carradice bag, but since he passed without so much as a "hello", we figured he was not with SIR. Even the fast SIR guys stop to chat.

We reached the Lake Stevens control around 10a, and quickly left after some food and water. At the control, we saw a guy get out of his car. This in itself is not that big a deal, but what was interesting was that the right hand side of his windshield was completely frosted over. He had no vision on that side. When I pointed this out to him, he said, "Oh yeah, I got here fine. It will finish defrosting by the time I leave here". I didn't care to tell him the gravity of his error.

Lake Stevens to Sultan

The terrain flattens out after the Lake Stevens Control, with a lot of flat riding, and a peaceful stretch on the Centennial Trail. Further incentive: the next control had a good bakery. We left together and having all the time in the world, chatted away. The floods and their effect on Paul Johnson's house [John's house apparently escaped], the bomb threat some "genius" kid in his school came up with, and PBP.

I had forgotten that John made it to Paris, but he was very candid in recounting his experience. This is John's second year randonneuring, and he certainly has come a long way. John did not finish PBP, and it was heartrending to hear him talk of the kind of disappointment at having DNF'd, and the agony he suffered in trying to persist in the face of sleep deprivation. He said his undoing was spending too much time at the controls, and I filed that away as an interesting data point. The disappointment does hit hard: Carole Bernhardt is a friend of his, and she was so devastated upon DNFing PBP that she didn't want to be around any people.

Time at controls seems strange at first, but at a massive event like PBP, it assumes greater importance. At our local brevets, I find it difficult to leave a control in under 10 minutes, and am all in awe of people like Jan Heine, who spends 3 minutes at controls. Definitely something to emulate. Get food and water, get card signed, use bathroom if you have to, refill bottles, and go. Simple steps, but I cannot remember the last time I did NOT forget one of these steps, or just spaced out. On this year's Spring 400, I had a stomach upset and spent upwards of 20 minutes at each control.

Temperatures were warming up, but not the point where I felt comfortable: I need 60 deg F for that. My fingers were frozen completely, and my right thumb was by far the worst. My toes were also gone and the cold air was hard to breathe in. All I could think of was, "Why am I doing this?", "What am I doing here?" and "What do I have to gain from this?". The answer was simple: R-12. Having shut down long distance riding once "inclement" weather hit in years past, I usually came in to the start of the season an effete copy of my former self, and this is one winter that I am determined to not fritter it all away.

At the end of the trail, we came upon Ward Beebe, who was just finishing up fixing a flat, and jerry-rigging his computer sensor. He rode with us for a while, and when I told him I was wondering "Why am I doing this?", he replied "You are a randonneur. That's why". That put that doubt out of my head pretty quick. Thanks, Ward.

There definitely was more wildlife than last time. Snohomish-Monroe Road has some lakes to the left, where we spotted a Bald Eagle trying to hunt some ducks in the water. A Bald Eagle in full flight is an awesome sight, but not if you are a little duck, I guess. The duck would dive underwater each time the Eagle swooped down. There were a lot of White Geese (thanks Wayne). We reached Sultan a little after noon, and almost everybody in our group was there having lunch, but most of them would leave shortly after we arrived.

Albert inquired about how I was feeling and when I told him about my cold fingers and toes, he gave me a pair of chemical warmers, and said it would last at least 4 hours. He just made my day! You cannot possibly pay your debt by saying "Thanks!": the man deserved a hug. So, I gave him one. I hope you feel real special, Albert. Two donuts, Tomato-Basil soup and 2 slices of bread, and 15 minutes later, I was ready to roll. John had left a little earlier than I had, and this gave me a chance to ride at my own pace for a little while.

Sultan to North Bend

I love Ben Howard Road and was looking forward to riding on it, when my fork-mounted computer sensor, decided to crash into the spokes. It was not broken, and I had to zip tie it to the fork to prevent it from clattering and smashing to smithereens. I heeded the sign "Water over Roadway" on NE 100th and took NE 80th, but Wayne later told me that he had no trouble with NE 100th. Oh, well. A few bonus miles never hurt anybody. I caught John in Carnation, and we rode together pretty much all the way to North Bend. Dusk started falling as we neared Mount Si, and the twilight shining on the mountain made for pretty scenery.

We did see a lot of the riders making their way back to Redmond as we were climbing the hill to the Falls. That was the last I would see of many of them. I estimated - accurately as it turned out - that we were an hour behind them. We arrived incident free at North Bend a little after 4.15p.

North Bend to Finish [Redmond]

As we entered the Control, John asked me if I had seen the Elk herd grazing on the side of 202: I hadn't. A guy filling gas said there were 78 of them. Now I felt really bad. We made short work of the control: I filled my water bottles with Powerade and left within the next 5 minutes, eating on the bike. It was a stop Jan would be proud of.

It had not started to get dark yet, but we switched on our lights, and made our way back to Redmond. Traffic was heavy as usual, but we made good time. I got a chance to see the Elks, and there were about a dozen cars pulled over by the side of the road watching the Elks graze. Some of the Elks were huge. Local sources tell me that these Elks are a constant fixture of that part of the valley, and are "garden terrorists": they apparently eat up a lot of the plants in people's gardens.

Fall City was lit up bright, and we hoped that somebody would be stopped there for coffee or something: I was sorely tempted to stop here myself, but wanted to finish as quickly as possible. We were humbled by a cyclist going back home on his commute, but we made it to Redmond at 6.05p in total darkness. C'est Fini. Surprise of all surprises, Wayne was still waiting there for us. This was waaaaay beyond the call of duty: John and I had figured that there would be nobody around. Wayne signed us in, stapled my receipts to my card, and gave me all the Permanent paperwork to validate, and a ride home. He also gave me a skull-cap for those cold days, which I wore all through the ride.

Postscript

Thanks go to Wayne Methner, for organizing this group ride, handling all the paperwork, waiting for all the riders and signing us all in.

I made a couple of mistakes on this ride. I forgot Bag Balm. The other mistake was not charging my battery completely: I had inserted the charger plug into a dormant strip, and so only had 3/4ths of a battery full (about a 2 hour run time). I need to investigate a good backup lighting source, such as the EL-53o.

Mark Roberts rode this exact same route on Sunday, and amidst all the snow and the wind, finished in 10h 15m. Tim Hennings successfully completed the South Hood Canal Permanent, which we all chickened out of, fearing closed roads. I am told that he had a lot of roads to himself. An intrepid randonneur indeed.

Hooray, a new Permanent!

The Inaugural Mountain Loop Permanent ride, November 03, 2007

I have always hated chip-seal: Monte-Elma road, South Sauk Highway, that road from Potlatch to Belfair, and Rockport-Cascade Road, are just some of the names that evoke nightmares. It has its list of annoyances, but after yesterday's 200k ride, I shall never ever complain of chip-seal, for I now know what one step lower than chip-seal is. Geoff Swarts and I experienced it first-hand this past weekend.

Geoff, upon hearing that the Mountain Loop Highway had just opened, quickly came up with a route sheet and all the necessary paperwork for it to become a RUSA permanent. Of course, we needed to ride the route to make sure that everything was a-ok. I really enjoy riding on "new" scenic roads: ones I've never been on. This seemed a great way to indulge that passion.

Geoff picked me up at my house around 6.30 in the morning, and gave me my route sheet, brevet card and waiver, to keep things all nice and official. I was wearing a synthetic base-layer, a half-sleeved SIR wool jersey on top, and my Showers Pass Jacket, along with Ibex Wool leg warmers and Sugoi (means "great" in Japanese) shorts. We were a bit overdressed. Temperatures hovered in the low 40s, but it seemed like a third-layer was unneeded. I tried to thwart the rain gods by carrying a helmet-cover, rain pants and ear muffs. If they held true to form, we would have no rain on the ride.

Somewhere early on this ride, Geoff recounted the Peter McKay incident, and I was shocked. Peter is a terrific guy, and I rode with him last year on the Dan Turner 300 (he was gracious enough to shepherd me and Cindy Holmstrom along), and was full of good conversation and smiles. A terrible thing to happen to him, but then again, Peter is sure to bounce back from this incident quicker than anybody I know.

Snohomish to Granite Falls

We got to the starting control at the 7-11 in Snohomish, quickly got our receipts from the friendly sales clerks and took off, a tad late. The first few stretches of road are "rolling", and hit you when you aren't really warmed up. There is a fun descent on 131st Avenue, which I particularly enjoyed, but would hate to go up on. Fear not, there is no paucity of reasonably steep but not terribly long, little hills on this one.

Geoff would be my nominee for SIR rookie of the year. He rode our Spring 200, 300 and 400, and then rode from Los Angeles to Boston, in 32 days. He also rode the toughest 1000k of the year, albeit in conditions far friendlier than on brevet day. He was coming up on 10,000 miles for the year, and compared to my 6000 miles, he was head and shoulders above me, literally and figuratively. The more I talked to him, the more I was impressed by his riding abilities. I was the laggard as Geoff motored up the hills. This was a recurring theme throughout the ride, and Geoff was most patient with me. If he were a rim, I was the brake pad constantly slowing him down. We rode two-abreast as far as we could, except our climbing abilities quickly split us up when the rode tilted uphill. But I bet you knew that already.

The route from Snohomish to Granite Falls is extremely pleasurable cycling. Rural roads, with very little and very considerate, traffic, the latter coming as a pleasant surprise from my ride the previous week, where I had gotten honked at twice in this same county. The county was having a case of Multiple-personality disorder, but I was not going to complain. I don't remember if the roads were chip-sealed, probably not, as the hills were the only thing that gave me any trouble. There were two turns onto Robe Menzel Road, one unmarked, and the other a little further down the road that was marked. The whole area formed a big triangle, so if you are looking for this turn, look for this big triangle. However, if you are tracking the turns using the mileage as I was, you should not miss this turn. We didn't, but you could miss this turn, if you aren't.

We stopped a couple of times to make notes, and ponder over some of the roads, and got to Granite falls, with about 20 minutes to spare. We used the Shell station by making a left on E Stanley Street (instead of turning right as the route sheet advises), but services are available by following the route sheet as well. We made short work of the control stop, doing the usual things. I bought a Snickers bar, some water and Gatorade, and the clerks at this Shell were efficient, nice, and interested in where we were headed, and even offered information about the roads.

Granite Falls to Darrington

After a very short flat stretch, we were on Mountain Loop Highway, which was to be our
companion for the next 50 miles or so. It starts out true to its name, and then becomes a long and gentle climb. The closest I could description I could give of this road, is Skate Creek Road, with tons more scenery. The road parallels the Stillaguamish (Stilly) river for much of the ride, offering great views of the surrounding mountains. A fine mist covered the air and the water drops got progressively heavier but never to the point of actually being rain, as we climbed higher. Fantastic scenery, with a gentle climb and hardly any traffic at all, resulted in peaceful, comfortable and fairly quick cycling. The Pass itself was only 2361 feet, hardly a monster, but a Pass nonetheless, and with fresh legs, we were able to maintain upwards of 20kmph, with rare stretches where we dipped below.

Geoff and I had never ridden together, but he let me set the pace for much of the ride. We passed Verlot. Not much in the way of services here, and our initial thought was that Verlot would be nothing more than a bunch of mailboxes and some houses, but we were pleasantly surprised to see a restaurant. We didn't stop in, but it seemed like a fine place to refresh oneself with drink and sustenance. Of course, you could also choose to load up in Granite Falls, as we did. The next services are to be found in Darrington, so you would be smart to stop and load up somewhere before leaving Verlot. Darrington would be called Barrington, if it were not for the bad handwriting of the Postmaster at that time, Geoff informed me.

I was quite apprehensive of climbing Barlow pass, but I should have been more apprehensive of my math! I repeatedly forecast the summit of the pass, only to be wrong. My miles to km conversion skills have eroded. A lot of campgrounds dotted the route, with tons of little shacks for restrooms, so one was not tempted to water the bushes. I think this would be a fascinating place to camp, however, a guy we met in Arlington, seemed to think that there were so many bears, that he would not camp there without a gun. Forewarned is forearmed, literally.

It got progressively colder, and we faced some very light rain. My toes froze, and the tips of my fingers started to freeze, but that was to be expected. Geoff wore half-finger gloves, and was never cold. We were riding in a bowl of mountains, along a river, and the snow on the mountains seemed closer and closer, until we finally got to the summit. We took pictures at the "summit", adored the scenery for a few minutes. The ghost town of Monte Cristo is just off this road, and I hunted for a "Kent Peterson was here" sign somewhere. :)

We had been trying to guess, at what point the unpaved section would start, but the sign at the pass cleared it up. "Pavement ends" it said, and sure enough, we encountered gravel and loose dirt and stones. Geoff commented that he was making a list of the signs that gave bicyclists the creeps, and said that "Pavement ends" was one of them, along with "Truck Route", and "Slower Traffic Keep Right". Well, how hard could it be? We were about to find out.

I think I ought to come clean about my choice of equipment for this ride, especially the tyres. I rode 28s in the back (Conti GP 4 Season), but the front had disaster writ large over it. 700x23, Schwalbe Stelvios. It started off pretty badly, with some slippery mud, that I was very careful on, but as the road started to tilt increasingly downhill, we encountered mud, gravel, rocks, potholes and and compacted dirt, which had gotten further mashed by all the cars driving through.

I started off extremely cautiously, and I think that saved me, as I felt my rear tyre slide out only once. Pace was slow, and I abandoned any thoughts of making significant time up on the descent. We didn't know how far these treacherous conditions would last, and as long as they lasted, our speeds would not exceed 15 kph, which was slower than our average climbing the pass. That was going to be a first.

We were hoping that the gravel would last about 5 miles before pavement would begin again, but all I got after 5 miles was more loose rock, gravel and mud, with running water as an added bonus. If all this weren't enough, there were cars in either directions, and this made some of the turns pretty slippery, not to mention complicated, because we could not take the best routes through the mud. Most cars were extremely kind, but you still had some "unsmart" people, who passed us close, or tried to maintain their path through the middle of the road, thus relegating us to the perilous corners.

My hands started to hurt through the constant braking, and mud splattered liberally all over my clothing and the bike [It sits as yet unwashed in our garage]. If it had rained any heavily in the last few days, we would have been toast, but for the most part, we were okay. There were also some uphill, which actually provided a kind of welcome relief from the triceps hurting, brakepad destroying, rim killing, braking that I was doing constantly, to keep my speeds down to safe levels. Of course, the only thing we could pay real attention to was the road and the traffic, so we weren't able to see much of the scenery. This was a real shame. I hope they pave this road soon.

We finally reached an area of not terrible mud, but our ordeal was far from over. I spent all of this time worrying about getting a flat. I really didn't want to get down in this muck to fix a flat, and I guess I had some good karma saved up, and completely lucked out. After about 10 miles we had descended enough that there was not much water left on the road itself, and so, the hard-packed mud was actually dry in places. I let it rip down much of these slopes, and rare was the time that Geoff and I rode within 20 feet of each other. The only thing I could think of was this: "If you are going through hell, keep going". I am sure that I would have enjoyed this stretch even more had I had 28s in the front. Geoff, not one to complain that easily, pulled up next to me and said, "I am about ready for this gravel to be over". "Mud Mountain Loop Highway" was how he named the road.

I was cursing my existence, while trying to maintain enough focus and not take a spill. All "bad" things have to come to an end, and we eventually came upon pavement, and both hollered loud enough for people still atop the pass to hear us. 14 miles of mud, muck, water and gravel. Hell was over, and we were back to civilization, back on the much-maligned chip seal. I almost mimicked the Pope [in bending down and kissing the pavement], but decided that it would be a display not befitting a randonneur [or -euse], because after all, we are masters of the stiff upper lip.

We stopped to make notes and to savour the fact that we had gotten out of this mess unscathed, but our bikes could not say the same thing. Mud and muck covered much of our bikes. We picked up speed. The turn onto Clear Creek Road was nice, as it brings you right along the river, only to put you back on the highway again. You can stay on the main highway if you'd like - it is a touch longer that way - but it is not as though this road (Clear Creek) routes you away from some particularly irritating stretch of road. We arrived in Darrington, and the "new road" aspect of the ride was temporarily suspended. I forgot when we got there, but it was with about 50 minutes to spare.

Darrington to Arlington

We ate some food, bought Gatorade and water, and set off after 10 minutes, and started hammering to Arlington. I have always suspected this stretch to be either downhill, or having a tailwind, and it was not even a bother when the rain started. As you may know, it always rains in Darrington. Geoff pulled me for much of the way, maintaining an excess of 25 kph on the flats and the downhills, and then waiting for me on the uphills, as we blasted our way to Arlington, getting there at 4.11p. We had covered the 30 miles to Arlington, in under 2 hours.

Arlington to Finish [Snohomish]

We stopped at the Chevron Station (a control on last years 1000k) and got more food, and took for the finish. We used Burn road, where predictably I slowed to a crawl, but it brought back memories of last year's 1000k. That helped me notice the fact that Burn road turns, so we amended the cue sheet to add a turn to stay on Burn. From here on out, the route is essentially flat to the finish. We switched to the Centennial Trail - much quieter, and no traffic - as Machias Road has no shoulders, and has some hills that I'd rather not have at the end of a ride (the anti Mark Thomas, if you will), and we pleasantly rolled in to finish in 11 hours and 3 minutes (or something like that).

I had tried to chicken out of this ride, quoting things I don't even remember now, but changed my mind, thinking of a chance to get some mileage in, and also visit new roads. I was not disappointed, as the rivers, creeks, mountains and waterfalls on this ride, are simply fantastic. An important lesson I learned was to always use the right equipment for the conditions, something that slipped me on Saturday's ride. The route sheet was spot on, and it was a great day to be on our bicycles.

Fear, Fog and Fall

Being somebody who generally does things at the last possible moment, I put off my October permanent until the last possible weekend of the month. A favourable weather forecast for Sunday (the 28th) offered sufficient incentive to go out, in addition to the perverse pleasure of knowing that Albert Meerscheidt had ridden this exact same course in pouring rain the weekend before. I almost joined Albert on his Tour O Misery, but a lingering cold saved me. Hoping others would join in, I sent out an email announcing the ride, but the pleasure of my company being deemed unsavoury, no one responded. After my recent "mishap", I was hoping I could ride with somebody, but, it was not to be. Shame on you all. :) (Well, I could have ridden the Three Rivers Cruise, with Don Boothby, again, but I am a little tired of that route)

We stopped at Victor's in Redmond for some coffee, but were too early. The display board at the Bank flashed 32 deg F. Freezing temperatures. Perfect. Thick fog forced me to move the start time for an hour later, as I didn't want to be riding in that thick a fog, which coupled with thick drivers, makes for rather perilous riding conditions. I set off at 8a, with roads just starting to see traffic. The fields on Avondale Road, were thick with fog, with the rising sun painting them with soft red rays. Very pretty to behold.

I was dressed for the cold, with ear muffs, wool leg warmers, a synthetic base layer, half-sleeved wool jersey, booties, and the thickest pair of gloves I could find at Sammamish Valley Cycle. I had 2 pairs of gloves and my duck-billed platypus helmet cover (so named by Max), in my Carradice, apart from the usual assortment of food, spares, tools, kitchen sink and other such minutia. The climb up Novelty Hill Road reminded me oh-so-clearly that I had lost significant conditioning by not riding much. A screaming descent on Trilogy parkway, brought me to the first quiet section of the ride, 232nd street, a turn I almost missed. The rollers along this road were fun, and I didn't see a single car. I am an optimist, but I still was not ready to completely trust my fellow car-driving denizens, and maintained a constant vigil throught my ride. So, no cars translated to enjoyable cycling.

About 10 km into W Snoqualmie Road, I saw a home-made "Bicycle Free Zone" sign on a lightpost; That was funny, but I certainly hope that people don't take it to heart. I wonder if it should be reported to the officials, as it sends the wrong message, and is incorrect in legality. Didn't make me feel very welcome.

This road was also memorable for another reason: this is where we got a lot of the snow on this years Spring 100k preride, and the uphill on Welch Road looked completely different without 3" of snow sitting on the ground. I rode past, chuckling to myself. Fall colours were out in full force, but most of it was yellow; no reds. The road surface was littered with leaves, but weren't much of a concern because the road itself was not wet.

A bearclaw with my name on it was waiting for me, so I went to pay my respects at the 711 store on Airport way; I peeled off my Showers Pass jacket, but donned a reflective vest to maintain the dorky clothing factor. The stop itself was brief, and I hit the long rollers on Highway 9. Of course, this was part of the 1000k last year, but I didn't have to go as far today. Lakeview drive put the hurt on me, as the first little stretch was a little steep, but the scenery washed away whatever little pain I experienced. Around 10a, I stopped at the Lake Stevens Mini mart for more food and water. It was a quick stop, and I was on my way almost immediately.

I was a bit nervous about finding the Centennial Trail, but I needn't have worried at all. It was very easy to spot, and more traffic free miles ensued. Passed the little town of Machias, where our rando buddy, newly-minted ancien (TM) Mr. Huber makes his residence. Of course, Mike was nowhere to be seen. He has sadly resorted to slacking off, instead of riding. The trail made for pleasurable, worry-free riding, except that they had these massive iron bars that forced people to slow down. Not a lot of people were out on the trail , but I did see the obligatory dog-walkers, seniors, runners and a few cyclists, some of whom were stopped to peel off clothing. The day was warming up, but not to the point where I could take off my booties. I did swap out my gloves though, and move to the SmartWool gloves, which I kept on for the remainder of the ride.

Old Owen Road is fun; it features a wicked descent down to US2, but not before you climb oh-so-slowly for a while. I stopped to check my brakes and my tyres, but alas it was the engine that needed fixing. The Sultan Bakery offered a convenient stopping place, where I downed some bread, split pea soup and a Chocolate Donut. Mmmmmm. A poor substitute for pain-au-chocolat though (Le Panier in Pike Place Market, highly recommended). I left here at 1.15p, a nice half-hour break from the rigours of cycling on a beautiful day.

I almost missed the turn onto JW Mann, but caught it just in time. And then came the first true gem of the ride: Ben Howard Road. I had heard the name, but not experienced its charms until now, but I was quite impressed by this road. It starts out flat, and then enters a wonderful stretch, where temperatures fall a little, the sun is blotted out by the tree cover, and views of the Skykomish river (name?) more than compensate for the pesky little climbs. All of this in absolute silence. Patient anglers waiting for that bite. A couple of hunters, patrolling the fields near the water. Very idyllic: a true gem of a road, and I wish all roads were like this. The road does flatten out for a while, but I felt sad when I had to turn onto SR203, because I quite enamoured with this little 8-odd mile slice o' paradise.

More quiet roads followed until Carnation, where SR 203 offered up a chance to stop at Sandy's espresso, but I was a bit brain-dead and didn't stop. I paid dearly for this on the way to North Bend, because I bonked a few miles South of Sandy's. Progress was slow, and a headwind added to the complications. The climb up to the Falls would normally have been quite welcome, but the lack of energy was palpable, as I struggled to maintain some semblance of rhythm. Gunshots being fired added to the general feeling of unease, but the sounds abated as one gets near the top of the climb. Traffic was heavy, and here my uneasiness was highest, as the narrow shoulders offered little in the way of protection, not to mention the several bridges where this pathetic excuse for a shoulder vanished completely. I stumbled my way into the North Bend Shell at around 4.45p. Grand plans of finishing in the daylight, now lay in pieces.

I went looking for Gatorade/Powerade. There is something wrong with a World where more "low-calorie" sports drinks are to be found than true "sports" drinks. Will the real Powerade/Gatorade please stand up? Thanks.

More food, water and Powerade later, I felt human again; I set out from North Bend, and made pretty good time back to Redmond. I stopped to pump my front-tire, suffering a slow-leak, a few miles North of North Bend. Darkness fell a little after 6p. The construction along 202 was a bit maddening, but I didn't have too far to go till the end. A semi-nice tailwind pushed me to the finish. I finished around 6.35, but waited in line for more than 10 minutes to get a receipt. I really didn't want to ride in the dark alone for too long, as it made me really nervous. I wonder how long it will take for this nervousness to go away.

Now, I can sit back, relax, and wait until the last weekend in November before I try doing a 200 :)

Cruisin' the rivers with No Chain.

I had originally signed up to do the Fall 1000, but decided to opt out and do the Carbon River Permanent as a way to redeem myself, with Erik Andersen and Dave Read, but as the weather on Sunday was slated to be much worse than Saturday - where we would get a few rain-free hours at least- I chickened out and did the Three Rivers Cruise, a route that I was very familiar with. An easy way out to further my quest towards my first R12 award. Shane, Don Boothby, Jim Jensen and Mark Jackson were the other culprits, on a cloudy, rainy and at times cold day. We could see our breaths, and that remained true for much of the day.

This group had not seen each other for a while, and we all exchanged pleasantries. Don asked me if my Immigration mess would be cleared up by 2011, and if it did, he would see me at the start of PBP 2011. He has not yet done a 400, and wants to be all prepared before then. He also promised us a lot of bald eagles and warned us to get receipts at all the controls. This "get receipts or else" was news to me, as all I had done on prior permanents was to get a signature and then mail in my card at the finish. Have randonneurs started cheating? What is up with this?

We started a bit late, as I incorrectly mounted my front wheel. Some help from Shane and Mark, and we were off at 7.10a. Jim waited for a while, but decided to take off ahead of us: we would see him one more time, with him heading West on 20, a tad before Marblemount, and that was it. The four of us set off to sunny skies - yeah, right! - and rode together for the first little while, but our relative speeds quickly split us up. Mark and Don rode together, while Shane and I rode a bit ahead (but not by a lot).

Shane is a newly minted PBP ancien. A tough gent and your quintessential randonneur. Having carpooled together, I began the process of peppering him with an endless barrage of questions: the weather, the food, the people, ahem the hills, SIR's surprisingly high DNF rate, and the experience. It was fascinating to listen to him talk. We talked a lot about Paris-Brest-Paris, which he successfully completed in August in 89:47.

It was not raining when we started, but the cold hit first. About halfway into 530, is a beautiful mountain laden with snow, and the temperature drops here usually. My toes and fingers froze here, but we still plodded on. The rain started shortly after this stretch, but not threateningly so, and stayed with us until a few kilometers before the first control. Shane remarked that this was how it felt when the rain let up, on PBP, and that shut me up pretty good. A fine data point! I had brought along a fine complement of rain clothing, in the hopes of warding off the rain gods: 3 pairs of gloves, a synthetic long sleeved jersey, and the SIR Blue Jersey on top, with thick gloves and wool leg warmers. I had other accoutrements in my bag: A helmet cover, a short-finger glove, and my rain pants.

We reached the Darrington Shell gas station around 9.15a, which was control #1, and found out that Jim had left about 15 minutes earlier. After getting receipts and signatures, and fuelling ourselves, Shane and I left. Just as we were leaving Don and Mark rolled in, looking good. A blissful tailwind guided us all the way to the turn on to 20, as it usually does, and we enjoyed the scenery of the Sauk river as it flowed at levels considerably lower than when we had done this same ride in March. There were quite a few fishermen out today. Fall foliage was rich, with yellows and reds dotting the roads along Highway 530. Fog blanketed the mountains nearby, and rendered everything beautiful. I just love riding in fog!

We saw Jim shortly after we passed the Cascadian farms store, and that was the last we would see of him. A short little dalliance with the rain later, we were in Marblemount. Don and Mark rolled in shortly after we did, and declined an invitation to have soup with us at the diner down the street. Shane and I took off for the diner, and had some delightful soup: Tomato Basil for me, Squash for him, and Pomme Frites for the both of us. A delightful 45 minute stop, and definitely recommended. Shane had some coffee to warm himself up, and not wanting to upset the delicate balance that is my stomach these days, I drank warm water. Yuck!

The winds along 20 heading west can be brutal, but today was a gentle enough day, that we could see the falling leaves corkscrewing their way to the road below. Temperatures warmed up, the rain stopped, and no drivers harassed us, a first for me on this stretch. This stretch was also our latest nice pavement for quite a while, as South Skagit Highway was a 23-odd mile long beast, with the nastiest chipseal you can imagine.

We spotted Mark's and Don's bikes at the store just before the Concrete turn off, but didn't see them: they were probably in the store getting refreshments; this was the last we would see of them. Traffic was low, the foliage was again rich, and the chipseal was ever nasty, but we made it through S Skagit Highway in one piece, but not before enjoying a nice tailwind for the most part of that stretch.

A little stretching session before turning onto Highway 9 relaxed our muscles, and shortly after the turn, the rain began in earnest. I had stowed my rain jacket, but the rain was not as bad as to require a stop-and-don-serious-rain-gear, but the headwind was brutal at times. Proves that the wind on rides is a zero-sum game, and often times negative sum game. I thought of the folks doing the 1000, on 3 days worth of rain, and consoled myself.

I stopped to get some refreshments at a little store about halfway down Highway 9, and was sure that Shane had passed me in that time, so I started hammering away in the hopes of catching him. But as it turned out, he had not passed me, but was close by. A few rollicking descents later, I was on the home stretch to the control, but spotted Shane not 40 yards behind. Powerful rider that he is, he effortlessly caught me on the bridge above the train tracks, just before the finish, and we rode in together. A nice scenic, not too long ride. And I truly (really) never used the granny.

I had a Cinnamon Pastry, and Shane had an all-american Hamburger and French fries. Apparently Shane craves real food on rides, and recounted the pain he felt at Carhaix when he found out that the McDonald's was closed. Another funny story was of how Chantel (Mrs Balkovetz, and tri-athlete) bought 2 Hamburgers for Shane at the finish of PBP, and Jeff literally gulped one of them with this eyes. Shane gave him one. So, Jeff Tilden if you are reading this, you owe Shane a Hamburger. Just teasing.

A fun ride with not so great conditions. Perfect training! Maybe Carbon River for October?

Mountain Populaire results: Scandal

As (countless?) loyal readers of this blog might have noticed, I pre-rode and completed the recently concluded Mountain populaire event with more than 5500 feet of climbing, in 6 hours and 45 minutes. I was immediately inundated with fan mail, all of them congratulating me on my, and I quote, "awe-inspiring" accomplishment, which said readers may also remember, was done using nothing but my middle chain-ring, in an attempt to one-up a certain Mr. Bob Brudvik. News about my pre-ride spread like wildfire, and more riders showed up on the ride than otherwise would have, to witness the terrain that I had performed said miracle over, and possibly also to see me in the flesh.

Readers, I advise you to sit down, as you read the following paragraphs; it just may be better for you.

I am deeply saddened to inform you that my aforementioned accomplishment has been nullified by the decision of the SIR RBA (who shall not be named to protect him from the wrath of my fans) to not ratify my ride on the grounds that it was not completed within time limits. Or maybe it was the RUSA results website. I thought Karl Rove had vanished into the woodwork, but no, he has reappeared as the SIR RBA.

How can this be? Well, apparently there is a way this could be. When this event was entered into the RUSA calendar, it was entered as a 100k and not as a 110k. This means that the time limit for this ride was 6:40 and not 7:xx. When the RBA went to enter this information, the problem came to light. All 4 pre-riders and another rider were DQ'd because of this. Oh well, that stop at Sandy's espresso for muffins and coffee was costlier than I thought.

I would like to counsel patience and forgiveness to my loyal-but-incensed fans; E-mail me if you can hack into the RUSA results database. In his defense, the RBA has promised to enter this event as a 110k next year, so that slowpokes like me can get some breathing room. Safe to say, you shall see my mug at the start next year.

Congratulations again to all the finishers.

That's crazy talk, aka the Mountain 100K pre-ride.

Mark Thomas and I pre-rode the season-opening 100k route, this past spring. Somewhere there, before we got slammed with 5" of snow, I mentioned to Mark that I didn't show up at last years Mountain 100, because I was not sure I would be able to finish it. This, after completing last years 3 pass 1000k. Mark's response, and he is pretty quotable, was, "That's crazy talk!".

I took that vote of confidence with me as I pre-rode the 100K route with Kent Peterson, Shan Perera and Matt Newlin, all of whom have spent some time shelling me out in the past. We left at 9.40a from Tibbets Field Parking lot. My front tyre was low, and I stopped to pump it up, as my riding buddies went ahead, but waited for me at the Zoo hill climb.

That climb was long, but not Washington-pass-going-west long, but I was the last to get to the top. The descent was something though, and quite worth the lung-busting climb. It comes early in the ride, and so, you don't feel like you are done. There was a lot of up and down, but the notable ones (to me), were the Tiger Mountain climb, the climb to the Issaquah highlands, Tolt Hill, Duthie Hill and the last murderous climb, that completes the ride. The last climb (Squawk Mountain?) completely took me out, and made me cry for stronger legs or a lower gear, and I got neither. We finished on the dot: 6h 45m.

This really is a fantastic ride; people who have ridden with me know that I get shelled out the back at the first appearance of a climb, and this was no exception, except that my riding buddies waited for me at every turn, and offered encouragement. The stop at Sandy's was fabulous, with all of us getting something cold to drink, and nourishing ourselves for the 3 hills (Tolt, Duthie, Squawk) ahead. I think eating at Sandy's is a good idea, as the last 22km kick serious butt.

There is a surprising amount of flat on this ride, so much so that Kent at one point leaned to me and asked, perfectly innocently, "Do you think there is enough climbing on this ride?", this just before we did Tolt Hill. I was about to tell the man to have some mercy. However, doing this ride a few times, will certainly help my climbing. An enjoyable ride, and I shall definitely do it again. I also plan to do this ride to train for the hills.

Kent's Pictures and mini-report