April's R-12: A truly last minute affair.

Prologue

Cue whining music..

I have been horribly busy these last few months, often working late hours, and having no time to either commute to work by bike or do a permanent, because more often than not I was at work trying to get things done. Such schedules lend themselves very poorly to improving ones riding shape. The only day left was the last day of the month, which I had to arrange with my boss since I finished everything at work the previous day. Alan Bell rescheduled his Saturday registration to ride with me, and we met at the Haggen's in Arlington by around 6.45a.

Arlington to Sedro Woolley

We set off around 7.10a under ominous skies. I was greatly encouraged by the wide swath of clear sky to the far west and south of us hoping that as the day progressed the rains would get driven out by the brisk tailwind that we were supposed to get. It didn't quite work out that way, as there was still quite some darkness where we were immediately headed: North, and North-East.

I have ridden several times on Highway 9, but mostly only in the Southerly direction, the lone exception being the 300 where we headed North on Highway 9. Not for far though, as we turned off towards Conway on Highway 534. The road looks very different headed North, and it was like being on a new road. Traffic on Highway 9 was not bad with only the logging trucks showing signs of impatience. Wide load trucks were the best though, slowing down for us, maintaining a very good distance, and passing only when sight lines and traffic was clear.

Alan slowed down a bit to stay with me, and I sped up a little and we stayed mostly together on Highway 9. We chatted a lot, about our jobs, families, backgrounds, interests and so on. The miles melt away in such pleasant company, and you hardly notice the weather. We had been peppered by the occasional water drops here and there, but a few miles into the ride, the rain started. I had hoped that there wouldn't be much, if any, of the rain, and so left my helmet cover and rain pants at home. This would turn out to be the source of much consternation but little actual damage. We stayed warm from the slightly rolling terrain of the Highway.

Alan nearly missed the turn away from the highway, but luckily I was there close enough to avoid any Special Ks. The rain now started in earnest, but we got to the Sedro Woolley control in pretty good time. The time was 09:09.

Sedro Woolley to Bellingham

I got some Hot Chocolate, while Alan got some Fig newtons. The Hot Chocolate was truly hot and Alan suggested that I add some ice to it to cool it down so I could down it and go. Brilliant Idea! (filed away in the "Randonneuring Tips" section)

The rain had now thickened, and traffic along Highway 20 was quite busy, but we turned off on F & S Grade road, which offered a welcome respite from the traffic. I didn't even know that a "Off the Highway" route existed to Bellingham! There were a few locals out: one was clearly the local Adopt-A-Road guy, as he was walking the shoulder with an eagle eye and a trash bag. A couple of walkers looked at us and professed us "Hard-core". I agreed with them, equal measure of vanity and politeness.

We stopped briefly on Prairie Road for some clothing adjustments: I put on my skullcap. My gloves weren't soaked through and my feet were warm in my wool socks. We were among the trees so it was difficult to ascertain what the weather was going to be a few miles down the road. Old Highway 99 took us to the small town of Alger, which I would love to visit and spend some time in ("Cute Little Town", as my wife would put it). The Alger Cain Lake Road stretch, which took us past Lake Cain, Lake Reed, Lake Louise and Lake Whatcom was a lovely stretch, with lakes, verdant forests and farms: pleasing to the eye.

About halfway along Lake Whatcom Blvd, the rain stopped, even if the few people waiting for a bus in the little town of Sudden Valley looked at us like we were ghosts. There is a golf course here: I'd have to tell my brother; an avid duffer, I am sure would love play it. Seeing our shadows was much cause for cheer, even if the hill that followed made me suffer a bit. We got to Bellingham in good time.

Bellingham to La Conner

We were treated to a really grumpy clerk at this control last year, but this year there was an East Indian woman, who was polite but seemed bemused by my attire and mode of transportation. "Are you biking?" she asked me with a sort of disbelief. I bought some PowerAde, and a Bear Claw which I ate on the spot.

We made quick work of the control, and set off discussing whether we would stop at the Mambo Italiano for Lunch, a spot venerated by our very own Mark Thomas. Alan wanted to at least check it out since he had never managed to spot it, while I was wary of spending too much time at a restaurant, being fully aware of my status as the slowpoke.

We parted ways at the Cafe: I had just eaten a bear claw, had a PowerBar in reserve, and a bottle of PowerAde, and I knew this would tide me over for the next 30 miles or so, and I left Alan, and rode onto a mostly-empty Chuckanut drive. Not many tourists or locals on a Friday afternoon. I stopped a couple of times to adore the scenery while nibbling on some food. I expected Alan to catch me, but as I flew down the last hill towards Bow, I still hadn't spotted him in my rear-view mirror.

The wind hit me hard as I exited the hills of SR 11, and onto the flats of Bow. It was a W/SW wind, and it seemed like it was in my face no matter which direction the road took. We headed west on W Bow Hill Road, and my pace slowed quite a bit, with the chipseal offering another hindrance. I paused to admire the horses before the last of the small hills on Bow Hill-Edison Road, and the horses came over to take a look at what I was all about.

Alan caught me a mile or two before Highway 20 and passed me with a gentle "I am going to just putter along". I tried to stay in his slipstream but it was too much effort. I couldn't catch him while he was waiting at the light, and the result was another solo slog into the wind. I got to La Conner a little after 3p.

La Conner to the Finish

I tried to make quick work of this control as I knew Alan would probably leave ahead of me if I didn't. The clerk at the Pioneer store was familiar with our activities: she was full of questions about how far I had to go, and how ahead of time I was. When I replied "about a couple of hours", both she and the woman behind in line responded with a "Way to go". Excellent encouragement!

We left the control, and spotted a new Cafe/Bakery to our right (the right turn just after leaving the Market). This will be my preferred stop from now on, I think. Now headed in a Easterly direction, the winds turned favourable, and save for a small stop to eat on Pioneer Highway, we made excellent time. We finished a little before 6:47p, making it in a 10 h 47 minute excursion.

Many thanks to Alan for sticking with me and heeding my call for a Friday ride. I was glad I played hookie from work!

R-12 #2 completed

Short version: Finished the Three Rivers Cruise Permanent in 10:46 to complete my second R-12. Au Revoir!

Long version, below:

I have been off to Europe for darn near three weeks, but I had some unfinished business over in Randonneuring land before I could leave: my July 200k ride. I started rather late (around 8.45 on a day that promised to be hot. (I should have left early and maximized my time in the cooler temperatures).

Start to Marblemount

- I stopped in Darrington for food and water, and met Andrew, a Coloradoan bicycle touring from Steamboat Springs, and spoke to him for 20+ minutes.

- Nice tailwind on Highway 530.

- Lots of traffic on Highway 20. Hhhmmn...

- I got to Marblemount in 5 hours. Maybe I can finish this ride in 10 hours or so?

Marblemount to Concrete

- Headwind: not bad. Heat: not so good.

- Crawled up the not-so-steep climb to Rockport State Park, and took refuge in the shade.

- Regrouped by getting more water at the State Park.

- Stopped at the convenience store in Concrete before the turn, and chatted with some teenagers on bikes. It's always great to stun the young crowd. (The bathroom was disgusting. Would not recommend this store).

- Chip-seal on South Skagit Highway as nasty as ever. The heat was bad. Traffic: low.

- Ran out of water just past the information control, and knocked on a house to get some water. A very helpful lady tied up her dog and gave me bottled water. Thanks very much!

- Rested in the shade a little bit and then took off for Clear Lake.

- Getting off the chip-seal was awesome...

- Stopped at the store in Clear Lake to get some more water, and some Ice Cream.

Clear Lake to Finish

- Had a bit of a cross-wind but felt good on the rollers of Highway 9.

- Stopped once at the bar near the roundabout to get some water and Ice Cream. Chatted with the locals drinking, who warned me that Highway 9 was a bad road for bicyclists. I headed out after thanking them for their warnings.

- Stopped again a little while later to use a porta-potty on a construction site, after getting permission.

- Finished in around 10:45.

- Yaaay! R-12 #2.

Work is a four-letter word...

February

Work pressures have dominated my riding, and I have been able to duck out just enough to continue my R-12 going. I met up with John Vincent and Peg and rode Leschi-Auburn-Leschi on February 21st. It was a fun-day and we stuck mostly together. Traffic was light, and my right leg didn't complain much, except that little stretch past Auburn. Peg has an amazing sense of humour, and teased me all day. Our back-and-forth kept John entertained, I bet. I don't remember how long we took, but it certainly was a great day to ride our bikes, even it was a tad cold.

March

I pre-rode the 100k, and rode most of the day with Ralph and Carol Nussbaum. Walked up that brutal hill again, but didn't walk up any of the other ones. We had some snow, sleet, hail, rain, and icy rain for parts of the ride, but never to give one much trouble. Near the finish, on Lake Washington Blvd, the tandem turned on the jets, and I got dropped for good.

I think I finished in 6 hours and change, and right after I finished we had sustained pea-sized hail for about 20 minutes, and I was glad to be sitting in the comfort of the pub, sipping on a nice beer and eating nachos instead of slogging through it.

I was supposed to volunteer at the Golden Gardens control, but the ride got postponed, and since my nephews were coming over the next week, I couldn't make the new date. One of my spring traditions has been broken (volunteering at the Spring 100k).

Last Chance 200.

Prologue

I am the past-master of postponing things until the last moment. I have pulled off several last day of the month rides to extend my R-12. There is a certain pleasure - maybe it is relief - at continuing your streak under dire circumstances. After successfully hurting my left knee and some tendons/ligaments/whatever on the outside of the right knee and not very sure about completing a 200k, I joined Albert Meerscheidt and rode the Snoqualmie Valley and Falls permanent. Again. This time, for January.

Ride.
- Met Don Boothby near Snohomish.
- Broken Chain just after we said bye-bye to Don. Albert fixed it in a matter of minutes, and we were off. This is the second time in January that Albert has saved my ride.
- A huge group of people caught us on Highway 9 (they had left an hour behind us), and we rode together to the control in Lake Stevens.
- Chatting with Albert was great. He kept my mind off of my leg.
- Uneventful ride to Sultan, and a nice heavy Sandwich.
- Ben Howard wasn't bad. I started slowing down with some pain near West Snoqualmie Road, and realizing that my knee was opening up more, I closed it (keeping it in line with the red tape on my handlebar).
- 20 miles later, pain gone. I limped into North Bend.
- We dorked up, and left North Bend to light tailwinds. The descent down the mountain was awesome.
- Saw a nasty accident near Tolt Hill Road. 4 cars, not good. Walked around, and had no cars for a few miles, save for those who were making U-turns on 202.

Finished in around 12 hours and change.

R-12 streak extended!

Randonneuring sometimes involves mountaineering.

Somewhere near the end..

There I was, 118-odd miles into my Whidbey - La Conner permanent. Riding the flat sections near the river, I was making good time. I had taken my time at some of the contrôles using it to recover and such, but I still had plenty of it to fritter away. After all, how much would I need to cover those last 8 or so miles?! All good.


The scene now shifts to barely a half-mile away, and I think you know what is coming: I am on all fours, climbing this terrible mountain, wondering if I am ever going to get to the top?! I am in my lowest gear, with a howling left knee, looking up at this wall, and wondering where the clichè'd crampons were in my Carradice. SIR has struck again!

Start to Coupeville

It began much better than this, honestly. I got an early start on the permanent, leaving home at around 5.20. My wife dropped me off at the Ferry terminal, and I was second in line. A nice breakfast on the relatively short ride ferry ride to Clinton left me fueled for the ride ahead. Time was 6:30. Not wishing to waste these empty roads, I left Clinton at 6:30, after a nice break at the Passenger wait area. Downtown Clinton was empty, and not a soul to be found.

My mind wandered back to those empty roads... Why do we love to ride? We love riding at night because of the stars, the lack of traffic and the melancholy stillness. We love riding during the day because we'd enjoy the outdoors better and daylight is not to be wasted. We love riding early in the morning because of the sunrise, the quiet, and well, empty roads. Is there ever a time of day we don't love to ride?! A randonneur uses every excuse in the book. Someday someone is going to have to write a book about randonneuring. I bet it will become some kind of classic like "Old Man and the Sea" (which is required reading for a randonneur by the way).

The next few miles were spent climbing and descending over and over again, but on perfect pavement, clean empty roads and wonderful greenery. The odd car would go by, but the stillness was mostly broken by a cough of mine that I couldn't shake away. Every now and then a dog would bark in the distance, unnerved undoubtedly by this oddly-attired man on this weird rolling contraption. Boundaries were respected, and knowing glances were exchanged, one side curious, the other side, wary.

Near the Keystone Ferry Terminal turnoff, I was back on familiar ground. My wife and I toured these parts in 2005, and took this very same ferry to Port Townsend. Plesant memories. I pondered stopping for coffee at one of those wheel-away huts, but the call of the general store was too strong. By the way, it hides inside a gas station.

Coupeville to La Conner

Coupeville is a small town. A gas station to the left, and a mall to the right. You'd miss the commercial area if you blinked. But the town had the first traffic light in the last 27-odd miles, and so missing the contrôle was pretty much out of the question. I am sure somebody (no names!) will prove me wrong! ;) I was greeted by a cheery clerk who informed me that there were no services between here and Oak Harbour, a hardy 10-mile ride. No point bragging. But this is a nice contrôle with all the rando essentials: clean restrooms, perfect location, food and water.

I was genuinely excited about the next few miles. I knew I was going to go over Deception Pass, but it has been a few years since I passed this way by bicycle. There are some wonderful-but-devious roads away from SR20 (Madrona Road being one of them). This road features 18-20% hills, and we found it hard going on our tour. We didn't take any of these roads today, as the road hugged the coast, and the waters of the sound glistened blue in the distance.

I rolled through Oak Harbour, but traffic - though heavy - was extremely courteous, with everybody moving to the left lane at the first sight of a cyclist in the distance. Oak harbour has some of the very few traffic lights on this route. The wide shoulders of SR20 gave way to narrow shoulders and somewhat oddly high traffic past Oak Harbour, where the uber-strong rider Ward Beebe lives. Now Ward is one of those people who I get to see at the start of the ride and never again. I half expected him to be out riding. This weather was not to be missed.

Deception Pass is oddly not that hard of a climb, but the road does climb gently for a little while, but you are completely in the shade and concentrating on riding the narrow shoulder that the grade passes by in no time. Around a little bend, and suddely you see the structure ahead, with beautiful ocean views opening out in front of you. I rode the two bridges quickly through, waiting for breaks in traffic each time. This was a time to stop, admire, and EAT! I spent about 10 minutes eating and gawking much to the amusement of the people passing by.

The turn to Deception Road comes just as a tempting downhill beckons, and caution is recommended. However, this is the end of beautiful pavement for a while, as chipseal takes over, but cannot ruin a beautiful descent to the water, and a nice sequence of turns. This stretch is hilly though. Snee-Oosh road reminded me of the Tahuya Hills. Narrow roads, chipseal, and no traffic. You go through a beautiful red bridge (which had me ruing forgetting my Camera), and you are in La Conner. My preferred stop is the grocery store.

La Conner to Arlington

This was a nice stop for me. Eager to get some rest, I lollygagged (or faffed around, take your pick), eating, drinking, getting rid of trash, and basking in the sun. It was a glorious day, and plenty of people were out enjoying the many little shops that make up La Conner. Many of the roads from this point on were completely familiar to me. These roads are really busy during Tulip Season in April, where these fields are full of tulips of every conceivable colour, and lots and lots of people and traffic. Do not ride this route on an April weekend. Save for a little hill on Fir Island Road, the route turns completely flat. I was also treated to several beautiful vistas of Mount Baker, with just a little cloud on top. Not very many cyclists out today, but I saw my first cyclist on Cemetery road, just before I found myself in Arlington.

Arlington to Snohomish

Arlington serves several roles in our permanents. Starting contrôle, ending contrôle, and of course, contrôle. Today, it was just a contrôle. I was bonking a bit on Cemetry road, and ate my fill here. I waited about 10 minutes for the cleaning of the bathrooms to finish, and spent a good 20 minutes here. I left a little upset about wasting so much time, but I shouldn't have. Worrying about a fast time on a permanent isn't worth it.

I was clad in my usual Blue Jersey, which sadly is getting a little frayed around the pockets, and my trusty Showers Pass jacket, which shows the battle scars of one too many road repairs. My shorts are getting frayed too, and I am scared of buying wool shorts because they will boil me when it's hot out. I bought these cheap shorts in Canada for about 20$ a pop, and they have worked well for me. Would be hard to replace these, but a trip to Sammamish Valley Cycle seems imminent [eDelux, here I come!].

I took the Centennial Trail option, and sucked for the first few miles that the trail gently climbs. But, the lack of traffic was a great thing indeed. My goal was to get to Snohomish by dark and that goal looked pretty much unattainable. A lot of walkers, some with dogs, some on roller blades, and precious few on bikes littered the route. Leaves were aplenty on the trail, as is a nice coating of the green stuff. Takes careful riding sometimes.

Just before Snohomish, I met two riders with Carradice bags, and when I called out to them thinking they were randonneurs, they stopped and turned around to meet me. It turned out to be un-randonneurs, but people who were interested in our style of riding anyways. I did my best to get them to come and ride with us, using the Winter Ride Series as bait. I told them about our website, and hopefully they remembered the spelling of "rando". After an enjoyable tete-a-tete, I bid adieu and continued after dressing up for the night.

Snohomish isn't far away from the trail, and the 76 gas station was a welcome sight indeed.

Snohomish to the Finish

The ride had been very enjoyable thus far. The hills were manageable, the weather was awesome, the wind wasn't too strong, and my spirits were high despite a nagging pain in my left knee that I had been feeling since Arlington. I have been focussing on improving my pedal stroke, and putting extra effort seems to mess it up sometimes. This was the kind of pain I experienced on my 600 DNF, and that went away after about 4 days.

I left this contrôles pretty quickly, in under 5 minutes, a commendable achievement for me these days. The next 5 or so miles was very straightforward as we hugged the Snohomish river. The lights of Everett gleamed in the distance, and traffic was fairly heavy through here, but courteous.

I have read a few reports of this route, and almost everyone mentions the hill at the end. I scanned the route sheet futilely for where the hill would hit. Nothing could be gleaned from the names of the roads, but I needn't have worried. A left turn and I was face to face with the WALL of Everett. I slowly chugged up, and about halfway my left knee told me that it wasn't very happy to be around me anymore, and promptly quit. Not being able to apply much force on one left quickly left me sore in the other, but I made my way to the right turn on S 3rd st, but stopped there to rest for about a minute. I saw 3kmph on my computer once. Terrible! My memory fails me on the nature of 52nd st, but I am guessing that was a climb too. I stopped again to rest after the right turn onto Colby Avenue, which thankfully had a nice downhill stretch to boost my spirits.

One does not lose elevation for nothing on these hills; one loses it to be subjected to further torture. 41st was a windy road, which also featured some climbs, but thankfully none were as obscenely steep as Lowell Road. The next 5 miles were all up and down, and I was left wondering if this were how the PBP course would be. That thought shut my whining up pretty quick, as I slogged through the last 3 miles to be rewarded with a nice gentle downhill to the finish.

I got my receipt at the seafood restaurant, and beat a hasty retreat home with my wife. My left knee still hurts. I really missed my camera today.

Correction: Original post quoted the trail as Cedar River Trail. It was actually Centennial Trail. [Mark Thomas provided correction].

Fall Colours, rain and euphoria

Prologue

My October has looked like this: work work work, vacation (or pacation, as my nephew puts it), and sickness. Each of these things eliminated all the nice weekends. My addled brain somehow remembered that an October ride was yet to be recorded, and ailments be damned, I set out to do Leschi-Auburn-Redmond-Leschi, under the threat of oodles of precipitation. Fact of life in the Northwest.

I took the bus out to Montlake from my house, and then rode the 3.5 miles to Leschi in the early morning darkness. It wasn't cold and it wasn't raining yet. The pavement on Lake Washington Boulevard was atrocious. The wet pavement sucked up all the light my E6 was shining on the road. I got lost a few times, but made it to the start around 6.45a. It wasn't the last on this day. After munching on an Apple Fritter, I set off under threatening skies. It was dry, as of now. I briefly pondered abandoning the ride and restarting my R-12 quest #2 again, but pulled that thought out of my head pretty quick. It must have been the Apple Fritter at work.

Oh, and I forgot to take my gloves. I only had my Outdoor Research rain mitts; it turned out to be the only glove I would need all day.

Leschi to Ravensdale Market

The first part of this ride is almost completely flat, with very few inclines to worry about, but the steep little pitch to get to the turn on Seward Park Ave woke me up. The traffic on this road and on Rainier Avenue even at this early hour was enough to keep me on tenterhooks, but the turn onto Perimeter Avenue brought some respite from the automobile. I got completely confused by the directions to Cedar River Trail, and spent a good 1o minutes trying to find the parking lot mentioned. I chased after a passing cyclist (riding on the wrong side of the road), and asked her for directions. She pointed me the right way, and I resolved to update the route sheet when I got home.

It was one thing to find the trail, but another thing to follow the right trail. I took the right fork, and that lead me straight to huge pile of gravel. I beat a hasty retreat and was greeted by a little suicidal dog. I slammed on my brakes and yelled "hey!", while its owner about 50 feet away walked without a care in the world. The morning was cold and foggy, and the trail was chock full of leaves. The hills that parallelled the trail were full of trees changing colours, and I felt like a complete idiot for flying to the East Coast to see the fall colours. Much leaf peeping can be accomplished right here in the Pacific Northwest.

A couple of hours into the ride, and the rain started. It started slow, a gentle mist, and rose to a crescendo and pretty much stayed there until I got to Issaquah. Places to pull over and don some clothing were hard to come by. I kept on, passing the Maple Valley IGA that a few SIR riders have missed (while riding the Leschi-North Bend-Leschi permanent), not realizing that I had to get off the trail here. I thought briefly about it, but then continued on, thinking that the trail would end with a way to get to Highway 169. I found a nice tunnel to stop and don my helmet cover, and avoided wearing my rain pants and booties. I should have.

I must have paid more attention to my cyclecomputer. I overshot my turn, and ended up where the paved trail ends and the gravel starts, without a nice way to get back to the highway. I turned around mad at myself for missing the turn. Leaving the serenity of the trail to head over to the truck-infested Maple Valley Highway was hard indeed. The next two or so miles were some of the longest of my life: I kept thinking I was lost as the street numbers first went up, and then down, and then up again, making me want to stop and reconsider my route each time this happened. I eventually reconciled myself to just riding bonus miles when suddenly 244th St appeared to the left putting me out of my misery (in a good way!). The next little stretch was hilly with narrow roads, but beautiful as we went through steep pitch after steep pitch, making up for the ugliness of SR 169. The rain had thickened, and my lower body was completely drenched by this point. I arrived at Ravensdale market, completely drenched.

Ravensdale Market to Auburn

The look the woman womanning the store gave me was one of pure pity. A guy in a pickup, buying his favourite cancer stick asked me if I was commuting or out on a fun ride. When I mentioned I was out for fun, he said "Some fun this is!", and left after a cheery "stay safe out there!". I donned my rain pants and my booties, and my rain mitts, and not wishing to lose anymore of the measly 30 minutes that I had banked, left into the rain.

I got to SR 160, and the directions mentioned an immediate right turn onto Auburn Black Diamond Road, but I only saw Roberts Dr. Figuring that the route sheet was wrong, I kept on, hoping to come across an Auburn Black Diamond Road somewhere in the next half mile or so. Unfortunately, after about 2 miles in the pouring rain, I didn't find it. So I did the unmanly thing and asked for directions. I was told to head back the way I came and turn on Roberts Dr. (I came home and found out that the route sheet hadn't completely printed. Roberts Dr was mentioned in line 2). I had bombed down and climbed up some rollers and I had to repeat all of this again. I had lost precious time, and wasn't pleased.

The rain intensified, and though I was covered from head to toe in waterproof gear, my rain mitts had started letting water in, and my fingers were quitesoaked. I rued starting, and just hoped the ride would be over. I even thought about calling Sound Transit and plotting a bus ride home. I wasn't even halfway there, and I was already hating this ride. Thankfully not long after this low-point I found myself in the Valero gas station. I had all of 40 minutes in the bank. My excursion had probably cost me around 20 minutes.

Auburn to Cumberland

I must have been quite a sight as I entered the store and got my food and receipt. The woman at the counter looked oddly harried, and I did my best to not worsen her mood. Another dude in a bicycle stopped by and bought his favourite cancer stick. Of course, I have never met a rando who smoked. We may be of questionable sanity, but we aren't stupid. The restroom at this gas station was terrible though. I recommending going somewhere else.

I set off once again with a half hour in the bank. This was going to be one of those days. I felt weak on the bike, and weak between the ears. Neither did I have the power to make this ride go any faster nor did I have a way of making it more enjoyable. So I wallowed in a sea of self-pity, and cursed the weather in colourful language. I knew that the first few miles on Green Valley Road (from Greg Cox's Chili Feed 200) were mostly flat, and I looked forward to that stretch of road. Of course, Green Valley Road also features a climb for the last 2 or 3 miles, but all of it is pretty gentle grade. The farms along Green Valley Road were bare, but the stench of manure was thick in the air. In the spring Canadian Geese make their homes here in these farmlands temporary immigrating to the south. But this late in the year, they are probably in more comfortable environs.

My mood was quickly lifted up by the next few miles of road. I wasn't going anywhere fast, but at least I was in pleasing surroundings. The hills along this road featured trees of glorious yellow, the last hurrah of the leaves before they fell down dead. The trees were shrouded in fog and it was a very pleasing sight. I love the combination of fog and trees. The climb upto SR 169 was slow and painful, but completely bereft of traffic. There would be no stops at the Black Diamond Bakery, as we turned off onto Lawson. Feeling a bonk coming, I stopped and ate food in the rain, as car after car drove bemusedly by.

Some parts of this leg were completely new to me. I looked forward to the Green Gorge Road, as I was sure there would be some climbing, and I would get warm. The gradual plummet towards the gorge was pretty good, though the slippery conditions meant I couldn't quite let it rip downhill. A police car drove slowly by, and the officer waved to me as I started the climb out of the gorge. I arrived at Cumberland Grocery at 1.40, maintaining my nice 40 minute cushion. My only hope of banking some time would be on the flat stretches of E Lake Sammamish and the Burke Gilman Trail.

Cumberland to Woodinville

The stop at the controle was short, as I purchased supplies and left intent on eating on the go. The next few miles were familiar roads, and I knew that short of a mechanical problem, I would gain some time. The rollers before Issaquah went by, with my strength gradually returning. The rain stopped about 5 miles away from Issaquah, and while it didn't do wonders for my speed, it did make me feel better. I fought the traffic through Downtown Issaquah, and made it to the lakeside in one piece, where a fat shoulder insulated me from the cars. The hills to the west of the lake were chock full of leaves and the fiery reds in the sky from a sun making its way down were a special sight indeed. Not many cyclists out on the road, but I did see a few getting their rides in. The one thing about this route is it passes tantalizingly close to my house, but I resisted the call of home (near Chateau St Michelle), and pulled into the 7-11 dreaming of more food.

Woodinville to the Finish

A fast, flat and familiar section awaited: I left about 10 minutes after I arrived, but sunset was fast approaching. I donned all my reflective gear, dumped all my raingear and took off blissfully, knowing full well that most of the hills were done for the day. The trail was full of leaves and bicyclists without lights! I got confused by the "Turn RIGHT towards Hec Edmundson pavilion" clue and since I am not that familiar with the U-district pondered over why I had to ride in the opposite direction. The cue for Hamlin was a left turn, and that set me straight pretty quick. The last few miles are very turn heavy, so I carefully stopped at each turn making sure I wasn't getting lost. 12 hours and 20 minutes, but I had finished. My October Permanent is in the books. I hope I can recover well for getting in a November ride.

A highly recommended route!

A beautiful Spring day is not to be wasted

This all started when Duane sent me a note asking me if I "wanted to fall sick" on Wednesday. I replied in the affirmative as the weather forecast was slated to be good. A few hours later the man writes to me again, this time wanting to ride on Saturday, because it was going to be "spectacular". After the soggy 300, I was entitled to a spectacular ride. So, we made a deal to ride Woodinville - Granite Falls on Saturday.

Since I am one of the permanents co-ordinators, I get to read first hand accounts of people's rides. This ride was initially reported to contain 3300 feet of climbing. And then Shan Perera, Galvin Chow and Thai Nguyen rode it one time and sent me a note informing me oh-so-politely that the total elevation gain posted was wrong, and it was more like 5500 or 6000 feet, depending on who you ask.

This was our chance to find out. I rode down to the Tully's (being only a mile away from my house) and was pleasantly surprised to see randonneur like bikes sitting in the parking lot. Maybe Duane had some of his friends show up too. I sat there eating a donut while waiting for Duane. He arrived only 5 minutes late, and after some food and conversation, we got up. The other riders introduced themselves as SIR riders by asking "Are you guys doing 359 today too?". (359 is the Permanent # for this ride). The riders were Jack Brace and Ryan Schmidt (sp?) of SIR. Jack is a current member, while Ryan is not (I found this out on Sunday). I asked them if they had paperwork, but they didn't. Jack was going to get no credit for his ride, but that is not the only reason why we do these things, do we ? We left the controle at 0715.

The morning was chilly. Temperature were in the low 40s, and we set off on the flat stretch towards Issaquah. We talked about Duane's running, and his bike riding, and my past running days, and my wife's recent troubles with injury problems. There are no real hills between Woodinville and Issaquah, and the first controle was upon us in no time. I almost spaced out, but luckily read the cue sheet properly. After the usual control rituals we headed out to climb Issaquah Fall City Road.

Our legs were sufficiently warmed up for the nice climb up the ridge, and after the Endeavour School turn, the low traffic allowed for more conversation and side-by-side riding. We plummeted down the valley, I more than Duane, who took the descents a bit more cautiously. After the SR 202 crossing, the route is more or less flat all the way to Carnation. However, we came upon a "Road Closed" sign before Tolt Hill Bridge. Construction workers littered the bridge, and I politely begged my way across, making sure I asked permission and remembering to thank each of them as I passed. We were in Carnation in no time, but not before Duane peeled off to use his favourite Port-A-Potty.

Ryan and Jack joined us here. I had a cookie, and took off my jacket. The day was warming up, and near 10a. We never saw the two again, not even at a controle. Quite a large contingent of cyclists were out riding. It was too beautiful a day to not be out and about. Of course, this also meant being passed like we were standing still on some of the roads of the Snoqualmie Valley. A huge contingent of riders led by a woman hammered past us on W Snoqualmie River Road, as did a rider on his beautiful Trek 5500. Duane was ahead of me on most hills, and I was better on the flats and the downhills. We saw SIR rider Urs Koenig riding in the opposite direction from us, and waved to us. Duane opined that Urs beat a hasty retreat from us, because he was scared of us "hammerheads". We had spectacular views of the snow covered mountains to the east.

Ben Howard road was as beautiful and quiet as always. Not as many anglers today, and surprisingly not a lot of bicyclists either. This was also the first time that I rode Ben Howard road towards US 2, and it was a different experience. After the left turn onto US 2, we had to hold up traffic, and were greeted with some nasty honks, not from the car right behind us, but somebody behind that vehicle. I mentally steeled myself to not react, and the moment we pulled over to the shoulder, the SUV passed us and so did the offender, yelling something that rhymed with Crass and Dole. I have ridden with Duane on several Permanents, and I have never heard him swear. It was funny to see him yell an obscenity, while I was waving my hand to the offending driver, all while the driver was flipping us off. Duane's philosophy was to use voice (which the driver could not hear), rather than sign (which the driver could see), and get it out of the system. As we pulled into the gas station, the same car driver was there, but he drove off after making a right turn onto Old Owen Road.

Drivers are a constant when riding in the Seattle area, so we started talking about some unforgettable incidents that our riders have had over the years: The one where a BC randonneuse was so harassed by drivers in Snohomish county, that she was almost on the verge of abandoning her ride, and the one where a man threw a full pop can at one of our riders.

I got rid of my leg warmers, booties, and skull cap, and swapped the heavy gloves for some SmartWool full finger gloves. The easy part of this ride was done, and now began the "lumpy" bits. After averaging the better part of 20kmph, we would get introduced to single digit riding. Duane was not using his granny at all, which meant he powered up hills. I was slow, dragging my ugly carcass all over the road. I have never ridden north on Old Owen Road, and this was the first time. Reiner Road was more of the same. Rollers, and some nice steep but short pitches. Duane wondered if Old Pipeline Road would come at the bottom of a hill, but I had to demoralize him by telling the truth (not to mention SIR tradition).

The steepest part of Reiner Road slowed me to a crawl, and Duane pulled ahead and kept riding uphill, while completely ignoring the left turn onto Old Pipeline Road. I of course, was a touch familiar with these roads as they were on the Fall 1000 that I did in 2006, albeit in the opposite direction. A big yell caught Duane's attention and he came flying down informing me that he was testing my navigation skills! Old Pipeline is a private road, had very little traffic and had good pavement. The next few stretches were extremely low traffic, but I was low on power for much of it, and it was very obvious that I was weighing Duane down. The calmness of Woods Creek was great, as were the beautiful views on Lake Roesiger and Menzel Lake Road. The latter two roads punished me though, and all I wanted to do was survive them. We finally arrived at the Granite Falls Chevron, not a controle but a good spot to get some food. I had some Jojo's and some Gatorade. I sat down while Duane patiently waited for me.

Not wanting to waste more time (Duane called me a "Slave Driver"), we set off and made excellent time on Jordan Road to Jordan Trails park. We were greeted by cheers from the folks below on the river and we waved, but pressed on. A special treat was seeing the bird pictured. He (or She) looked beautiful. Duane kept saying redhead, and I kept looking for a pretty redhead :) The climb out of the park was a bit severe, but not very long, and we arrived at the Burn Road intersection. Duane spotted the Info control and we didn't write the answer down, as it was easy to remember, but hard to guess.

I had ridden Burn Road in the opposite direction on the 1000, and I forgot that I was going to get a nice long downhill. We bombed down the hills and got into Granite Falls again, for more Gatorade and water. This time Duane wanted a sit down, and we relaxed for about 10 minutes before heading out again. Some not very hilly stretches later, we arrived at the very easy to miss turn onto N Carpenter Rd. The only reason I saw the turn was because I spied painted Dan Henry's on the road, and looked up to see the turn. Duane was very appreciative of my efforts: he said it was above and beyond the call of duty for me to have driven the route and marked Dan Henry's. :)

We hit the last Info control of the day, and just as we were writing the info down, Duane threatened to quit on me. He said he was going to ride back the way we came. I wanted his company, and so had to beg him to reconsider and ride with me. A big dog stood about 200 yards from where we were. Duane graciously allowed me to go in front, and I kept yelling "Go home", and even though the dog was wagging its tail, I took no chances. After a few warning barks, the dog went home, as commanded. We headed on, until we hit Dubuque Road.

Our first vision of Dubuque road was a wall. A wall rising about 200 feet into the sky. We started plodding out way to the top - Duane in front as usual - when we started hearing the unmistakable signs of an aggressive vehicle: A SUV was driving towards us, with the passenger yelling out at us with the usual invective directed at cyclists: "Get off the road", and the words that rhyme with Crass and Dole. However, as this mania jumped out the window curse at us, he also lost something that flew onto the grass. The Vehicle itself gave us lots of clearance, but the passenger was not so nice. He was either high or really drunk.

Duane stopped to pick the object and stuffed it in his jersey: they were the maniac's sunglasses. Now, a lesser human being (say myself), would have either smashed the thing with a stone, or thrown it in the nearest trash can or left it in the middle of the road to be crushed by a vehicle. Duane is not such a human. He crossed the road and left it atop a green power box, so that somebody might find it. I told Duane that he was a better man than I was.

After a few more walls, and a few very exhilarating descents, we turned left on Dubuque Cut off road, only to be met with the same type of riding. I crawled uphill, while Duane powered uphill and slowed down for me to catch up. We rode through Snohomish, and its traffic, and finally found our way to Springhetti Road, where we saw a bike commuter. We almost caught him, but he turned left just before the turn onto Broadway. Broadway of course, had been on the tail end of the 2006 Fall 1000k, so I knew it was going to be a while before I made it to the top. Duane became a dot in the distance and I plodded through the false summits, before finally reaching the top.

Duane guided me through the next few turns, and pretty soon we were on Bostian Road, where I stunk again. The steep slope to Woodinville-Duvall Road was the end of this long day of climbing, and we hammered down to the left turn and then again down to 140th. In my infinite wisdom I turned left onto a shopping mall, and then jumped on the sidewalk. Duane followed me, and we used the pedestrian crosswalk, before continuing on 140th. We were at the finish in no time, and saw the bicycles of Ryan and Jack at the Gas Station across the street.

We got more food and Duane gave me a ride home up the Winery hill, before setting off for Seattle. A wonderful day to be on our bicycles.

This is February?!!?

Mark Roberts, Duane Wright, Theresa Garl and I rode the Snoqualmie Falls permanent on 02/16, and I must say, we were most pleasantly surprised by the weather. It was nice and warm all the way through. Not a single thing to complain about. Great company, excellent weather, and good scenery. I felt great for all of the ride; the Leschi-North Bend-Leschi permanent that we did towards the end of January probably whipped me into shape. And , I didn't mess up like I did last time. I stayed hydrated, never bonked, but did unlerlube my chain, so I had to borrow lube from Duane.. again!

Mark of course, started an hour after us, and caught us just before the turn onto Old Owen Road, rode with us for a little bit, and then was an hour ahead of me by the climb upto the falls. The three of us had a nice relaxing lunch at the bakery in Sultan, where I polished off a Split pea soup and Vegetarian Sandwich, and a piece of Theresa's left over bread in no time! Gotta get those eating muscles in shape for the season! Mark Roberts ate at the Sub Shop, which is closer in location and faster with their service.

The three of us rode fairly close to each other until just after Carnation, where Duane suddenly vanished, and Theresa who was behind me also vanished. I waited for them for a while, but not wanting to burn daylight, I headed on, and never saw either of them till the finish. I feared the worst! How I missed Duane, I do not know, but Theresa decided to end her ride at the top of the Falls, and rode back, not making the North Bend Control. Traffic near the finish was atrocious to say the last, but I finished just a shade after 6pm - just after Theresa - and Duane finished about 45 minutes behind me, I think.

Duane and I finished in 11hours and change; Mark probably in about 9 hours and change. As Permanents Co-ordinator, I have decided to add a 2 hour penalty to Mark's card for being "Too fast!". Mark of course, completes his R-12 with this ride. Congratulations!

Glorious weather indeed. As good as Saturday was, Sunday turned out to be a better day. I toyed with getting up early and heading to the start to see some folks I had not seen in a while, but decided that a warm bed was more important. :)

Ride Notes

* I ride better in warmer weather.
* Apparently Duane and Theresa ride with me for the "Unwholesome conversation" I provide. Low Blow.
* W Snoqualmie Road is where old appliances go to die.
* Bald Eagle sightings never get old. This time, we even saw a "bird of prey" on W Snoqualmie Road.
* 203 stinks. Especially, in Carnation.
* Mmmm. Split Pea Soup.
* One King-size Snickers bar has 510 calories ?
* Ben Howard Road is great. Each time I ride this, I thank whoever made this possible.
* JW Mann Road must hate my bike computer. On the fritz, again! New batteries?
* The climb to the Falls is still painful.
* RM 1200. Maybe. $535? I guess not
* Not seeing friends on the way back and pondering what I could have done to save their ride is painful.
* Seeing one of them finish is ecstatic!
* The final few miles of this ride are a nightmare because of traffic.
* Next up: Three Rivers (or) Woodinville - Granite Falls.

Avoid Leschi-North Bend-Leschi...

..if you are out of shape. I went in thinking it was going to be an easy ride! I survived, barely. Geoff Swarts [route creater and owner] has come up with a perfect combination of new and old roads, flat and hilly sections and scenery, this is a really nice route with flat opening and closing legs, but the hills in it came a little too early in the season for me. A very welcome reminder that I have been slacking off too much these past two months. Thanks, Geoff. [I still have that email that he sent me and Mark Thomas, where he mentioned that he came up with this route for some "easy" winter riding].

The ride was in the pleasurable company of Duane Wright, and Theresa Garl, a new SIR and RUSA member doing her first ride of more than 60 miles. She rode like somebody who has been riding long distances forever. She was better prepared than I was, that's for sure! A nurse by profession, Theresa is a cheerful addition to our group, and to the club. And, she has heard of Peg Winczewski!

Duane, of course, is an ancien and just like he did at PBP 2007, he rode this on fixed gear.

I am not going to do a blow by blow account, but rather, here are some of the salient moments:

Start to Log Boom Park

* Took the bus to Montlake and SR 520 where Duane met me and gave me a ride to the start, and told me that we were going to meet a friend of his, who was going to ride with us.
* Started at 0830. Didn't warm up quickly enough for me.
* Cold at the start, lots of ice on the road. I really hate riding in the cold.
* Tricky bunch of turns at the start, and Duane helped out here with some local knowledge.
* Slab of ice near Lakeshore Dr on the Burke Gilman trail made us dismount.
* We met Theresa near Log Boom Park, and we rode to the first control together.
* Sun out in all its glory, but warmth was a little on the short end of the stick.

Log Boom Park to Redmond Peets Coffee.

* More flatland riding. We passed near my house, and got to Redmond after a short bathroom break inside Marymoor Park.

Redmond Peets Coffee to Carnation

* Peets sounded a lot more appetizing than Whole Foods. They make great coffee. Duane and I got Blueberry Scones, and we had a nice sit-down affair.
* Took off after about 15 minutes for Carnation.
* Theresa is a strong rider! She climbed Novelty Hill Road quickly, I quickly climbed like a rock.
* I love descents, but that descent on Novelty Hill Road is scary. We took the lane, and arrived safely at the bottom. Good brakes are a must!
* We blew right by the Information control (Carnation equals Sandy's); however the control was by the Nestle Training Center. Rode back and noted the value down.
* Carnation Farm road was a bit icy. Apparently, I am still jittery about slippery surfaces.
* Theresa and Duane both climbed away from me, as Tokul Road put the hurt on me. Lots of snow on the ground, and lots of ice in places too.
* Bonked really badly on SE 53rd way, and suffered on all the hills on 396th. Geoff has no mercy.
* Duane and Theresa were waiting for me at the Reinig turn.
* Confusion reigned here, as the route sheet did not mention how far away the park is after the turn. It is towards the very end of Reinig road.
* Beautiful view of the mountains on the final stages of this leg. Mount Si in all her glory.

Three Forks Park to North Bend QFC

* This leg is short and mostly flat, and we arrived at the QFC around 2p, I think. It was nice now [as in my fingers weren't quite frozen anymore].
* I ate at Starbucks, while Theresa and Duane went to find restrooms. Some patrons had left a table littered with food, and I heard them being referred to as "Pigs". Mental note: DO NOT leave litter on Starbucks tables at North Bend QFC. [Only my wife gets to call me a pig!].
* We stayed about 20 minutes I think.

North Bend to Coal Creek, Newcastle.

* Pacelined a bit on 202, but Duane and Theresa are again too strong for me.
* They missed the 338th Pl turn on 202! I tried to chase them down (ha!), and yelled, and made a scene, and everybody noticed except the two it was intended for. I gave up, and figured they would figure it out sooner or later and return.
* Issaquah-Fall City Road hurt me badly. I plodded along in my lowest gear for most of it. I sucked on these hills. There were no witnesses to attest to this however, for most of this leg.
* Duane and Theresa caught up to me, and they pulled away again. Theresa was still looking good 63 miles later. Duane complained of some knee pain, but isn't riding like he is hobbled.
* Just before the steep uphill to Klahanie, my calves seized up. (as they did on the Mountain Populaire pre-ride). I pulled over and started stretching, right in front of heavy traffic. Mental note: Drink V8 at next control.
* I take the lane on Highlands Dr, figuring that would save me from idiots trying to squish me. That is not quite enough, as cars passed me and then just cut in front of me.
* I was stuck at a light for more than 5 minutes on Newport Way, enough time to see a really old woman drive right in front of an emergency vehicle. It is a miracle I can still hear, and somebody please give that woman a ticket!
* High traffic on Coal Creek, but I finally got to the control with about 20 minutes to spare. [I briefly considered the prospect of just riding the 10 or so miles to Leschi from here and calling it a day].
* It got dark just as got in to Newcastle.
* Duane and Theresa are nowhere to be found and I do not have my helmet light. Never ending series of faux pas. But luckily, just as I am ready to go, I see Theresa, and she said "There you are. We were wondering about you'. Apparently Duane decided to see "more of the countryside". * We decided to stick together, and a no-drop policy was instituted.
* I drank two v8's, and ate other food.

Newcastle to Lake Francis Park

* We set off shortly after the control close time, and I was still worried about making the finish. I really need to be more vigilant of time on new routes.
* The May Valley turn is easy to miss, but we find it easily. Past experience missing this turn, helps!
* This leg is rolling, and my legs aren't there yet. Especially on one little bit where I struggled to not get dropped.
* Theresa looked peachy, ate well, and was chatty. Duane looked inebriated ;) Just kidding. Duane and I agreed that it was like riding a 300.
* On Issaquah-Hobart Road, I finally stopped to borrow some lube from Duane. Riding became a little easier after this.
* The Lake Francis Road/SE 192nd intersection confused us and we took the wrong turn. a BR to stay on Lake Francis Road on the cue sheet might help. Luckily we got back on track quite easily.
* We get to the control with about a half-hour to spare. Whew! Breathing room!

Lake Francis Park to IGA to Finish

* We stopped at the gas station, got our receipts, and warmed up for a little while. The store clerk was chatty and incredulous that we have still 22 miles to go. I wolfed down a King size Snickers bar, and vowed to brush my teeth and floss when I get home.
* 10.2 blissfully flat miles later, we started on a whole pile of sort mileage sections.
* Moonlight on water is a truly amazing sight. Why can't I live in a house with a lake view? [I cannot afford it?!].
* I would have missed atleast two turns on this leg. Duane knew what he was doing, thankfully.
* Memories of the hills on the Seattle Marathon gave me nightmares. Especially the one on which I developed a nasty cramp!
* We finished at 9.45, some 13 hours and 15 minutes after we started.
* I asked Duane if I could borrow his Single-speed bike for a few days, and he said "How about the next 10 years?".

Theresa started out to do 100k, and ended up doing 117 miles (not counting the excusions Duane took her on). She is fun to ride with, and I thoroughly enjoyed the time I spent in her company. The jury is still out on Duane! ;)

Permanents. The ugly step-sister.

I really seem to prepare better for Brevets than Permanents. I take more care, and think more about what I need, and what I need to do to succeed. On Permanents, I largely prove that my IQ is negative. Here is a list of things I messed up on:

1) No Bag-Balm.
2) No Helmet-light.
3) No oil for Chain.
4) Not drinking V8 at the controls.
5) Not staying hydrated.
6) Not realizing that my ride-partners were stronger than me, and would catch up even if I left controls ahead of them.

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.