SIR 300K: Well, I finished.

Prologue

I haven't had the time to sit and and write a detailed report, and I forgot my camera. So, this is going to be just like all my previous reports: boring! Geoff gave me a ride to the start, and I found out something very interesting about him. Can't share, though. The ferry ride was fun: I sat near Jan Heine and had a nice little chat with him. My first memory of Jan is hearing him say that he wanted to finish the Tahuya 300 before dark (2006), and being in awe. I searched for Mike Huber, but I couldn't find him for some reason.

This is SIR's 15th year: it was great to meet John Wagner, one of the founders of SIR. Ron Himschoot introduced him, and John spoke a few words to us, before we set off. I had a few goals on this ride: 1) No candy bars (dentist's orders), 2) Finish, and 3) Get off Highway 9 before dark. I accomplished #1 and #2.

Start to Joseph Whidbey State Park

Very few sections of this route are new to me, so navigation wasn't going to be a problem. The first 20 miles were a touch cold, and I historically take a while to warm up. I rode with Rick Groth for long periods on this stretch. I also met his wife, Julie, who stopped at quite a few spots to take pictures of us.

There are two dogs about halfway into Highway 525 and they were in their usual spot, but they were too tired to give any chase. Greg Cox bounded by with a cheery hello: he had to drop Mary off at the airport, and had started late. The turn onto Libbey Road marked the first new section of the ride, but I loved it, as it took us off of Highway 20 traffic. We hugged the water, and arrived at the first control, where quite a few folks: Ole Mikkelsen, Ron Himschoot and Geoff Swarts were manning it.

Joseph Whidbey State Park to Bellingham

Ken Carter was indeed riding near me. Hhmmn. After mooching a banana off of Ron, I took off. I had been bonking a bit before the the Libbey turn, and it felt good to get something in the system. The water at the park had been shut off right after it opened, which was very weird, but there was a gas station not a mile away from the control, and I stopped there for food and water. The clerk there was very kind, and full of questions about our ride. She had moved up here from Oregon, and was enjoying it so far. I took this opportunity to take off my booties, but left the leg warmers and the skullcap on.

I spied Ken a little ahead of me, but instead of making the turn onto Golf Course Road, he kept going. He turned around after I called out to him a couple of times, muttering a "I wasn't paying attention" with his thanks. We rode a little while together sharing tales of not having enough miles in our legs. His superior climbing took him away, and I never saw him again. Or maybe I saw him near Mount Vernon. Don't remember.

I crossed Deception Pass during a nice long break in traffic, and found Rick again. We swooped down the descent on Deception Road together, and I passed another tandem on Satterlee Road. I saved Sylvia (new?) from a wrong turn (though she would have dead-ended pretty soon had she kept going), near Thompson Road. She wanted to wait up for her buddies, and I kept on. On the descent to the Farm to Market turn, the tandem went by. Instead of making the turn, we all pulled into the gas station together.

This wasn't a control, but should have been. It was fairly far to the next control with almost nothing in between until Bellingham, so it was a good stop. Several randonneurs and randonneuses had the same idea, but after food and water and more clothing adjustments, I set off again. Thai on fixed-gear, caught me near the Museum on Bayview-Edison Road, and disappeared. I found out that the nature foods store at the corner of Bowhill Road and SR 11 had closed. They had some good stuff and I have stopped there at least a couple of times.

I stunk pretty much all the way through Chuckanut drive, but since I didn't see anybody for a while, assumed that I was the last. Chuckanut was beautiful as always, and traffic was moderate. I made it through the core of Bellingham without getting lost (though I almost missed a left turn). Crossing I-5 was, well, fun.

Bellingham to Deming

I found a cheery Dan Turner manning the control with an assortment of goodies. He warned me that Deming was a better place to get food, and signed my card. The store had the most dour-faced convenience store clerk in the world (he even trumps the one I met in 2007 in Mount Vernon). He didn't want anything to do with me, except money of course. Dan gave me a brief run down of the next few miles, and renewing my promises to ride his 300k, I took off.

This stretch was extremely pretty, as I was able to see the snow covered peaks in close proximity, and the wind seemed like it would be favourable the moment we turned south. The fluttering flags were a great comfort. I was sad to leave Highway 542, but we shall see more of it, and at a slower pace to boot, courtesy of Dan (he promises a climb up to Artist's point). The moment I turned onto Highway 9, I felt the tailwind. I met Peg at the control together, eating an Ice Cream, and I resolved to get some for myself.

Deming to Arlington

Wanting to get off Highway 9 before dark, Peg and I left the control together, and rode in a pace line for a while, but the conversation was too good to ride like zombies. So, we pulled next to each other, started yakking it up, and the next few miles just blew by. Peg has an excellent sense of humour, and we tease each other almost constantly on one thing or the other, but all in good fun. For a while there we were doing good time, but eventually I tired and Peg slowly pulled away. She wasn't very far away, and I could still see her. We regrouped near Sedro-Woolley, where she ate something and I made a phone call to the Home Department. When she stopped to put on her night-gear, I caught up to her yet again, and were joined by a smiling Jim Jensen, who apparently rode 20+ bonus miles, having missed the SR-9 turn. Jim usually rides a tandem and was clearly missing his navigator, Ann. Instead of being 2 hours ahead of us, he was near the back of the pack.

We all dressed up, and figuring the temperatures would drop, I wore my skullcap, and was really warm for the next few miles. We stayed mostly together till Arlington, but I think Jim and Peg got there a few minutes before me. The Tandem (the Sneed's), and two other women also pulled in shortly after. Another rando reunion at the Arlington Haggen's.

Arlington to the Finish

I spent about 25 minutes here, and I don't know why. A combination of poor planning and general tiredness. I need to get back to my in-and-out-of-controls-quickly mindset again. However, sometimes you need to rest a while to recuperate, and I took off first, knowing that Jim and Peg would catch up to me. I almost missed the turn onto the Centennial Trail, but made a U-turn and got on where I was joined by the two.

The gentle uphill grade of the trail gets me each time. I soon dropped off the back, and while I could stay near them, the gap wouldn't close . The downhill bits on the trail had me catching up to them though, and we rode through Machias to the information control. Ron, with the thoughtfulness of a very experienced randonneur, had included the Info Control question on the route sheet, so there was no need to whip out the card. I made a mental note of the answer, and set off again. We rode together tight and fast on Lowell-Snohomish road, but my riding companions pulled away near the climb.

The climb: Luckily for me there were no witnesses. The two red-blinkies were gone by the time I got to the left turn on 41st avenue. I spent some time there recuperating from the climb, but it wasn't over yet. I knew I would finish, and typically near the end of rides, I lose all motivation to get there as fast as I can: the road curved left and then right, and with that the steep climbing would be over. Mukilteo Boulevard is a never-ending series of rollers, but the last few hundred yards are all downhill.

Ron Himschoot and Mark Roberts were at the finish with pizza, and Peg was just about to hit the showers. I ate the last two slices of veggie pizza (colossal mistake), and the Sneed's, Sylvia and another woman whose name I didn't catch, all finished. Sylvia wanted veggie pizza, and there was none left. Very sorry about that, Sylvia. I showered, and after a bit of a nap, got a ride home from Mark Roberts. What a fun way to celebrate SIR's 15'th year!

ORR Birkie 200: A thorough soaking

Prologue

Happy birthday to my dear Father-in-law.

What is the definition of a rainy ride? According to David Huelsbeck, it is any ride where one needs to stop and wring the water out of ones socks. By that definition, the 2009 Birkie wasn't a rainy ride. But by most peoples' definition, this one was a soaker.


Having missed the Chili Feed 200k for the first time in 3 years, the Birkenfield 200k in Oregon beckoned. After months of Permanents, it felt great to start with a new group of people, renew old acquaintances, and ogle new bikes. Despite the weather forecast calling for some rain, there were more than a few of us. This is a brevet of great vibes for me as my brevet personal record was set here in 2007. Of course, I had a whole lot more miles in my legs then than I do now. Today, completion was the goal.

I had two layers on top: a synthetic inner layer and a wool jersey on top, topped off by my Showers Pass jacket. I wore Pearl Izumi shorts and Ibex Leg warmers, with my prized Chili socks, with booties on top. I neglected to wear my rain pants and my helmet cover, and would pay dearly for this.

Start to Vernonia


There was a slight drizzle, but the dark skies tempered any enthusiasm. After a few words, the group took off, and the lights of Forest Grove even at that early hour, broke up the pack quite quickly. And of course, my pace didn't help matters either. I was by myself before long, and tooling along, when Joe Platzner came riding by, and we chatted for a few minutes before his natural pace took him gently away from me. Gales Creek Road meandering along the eponymous creek has some nice vistas of the mountains, and the rain made the greens pop out.


The climb up to Timber was much easier last time around. It was raining heavily by the time I reached the clear cut top, and plunged down the other side. We wouldn't climb for a while. My gloves were soaked through, but I was warm everyplace else. I should have found an awning and stopped to put the last remaining stuff on, but I was too dumb. The Vernonia control is always well-stocked: in 2007 it saved me from the cold. I kept turning the pedals thinking of the well-stocked Vernonia control. Hot Coffee or hot Chocolate was sure to be served, along with muffins, nuts, donuts and cookies. Just as I was entering the control I saw Cecil leaving on her beautiful Sweet Pea. She looked cheery despite the conditions. She almost always is. We shouted out our hello's and she went on by.


Vernonia to Birkenfeld


The control didn't disappoint. There was a huge group still there, and Peg was there as usual to give me grief. I had Del retrieve and sign my card: I was too far wet to consider touching my card. I had two cups of excellent (french press) coffee, by far the best I have had at a control. I stuffed my face with Cookies and nuts, and spent about 10-15 minutes at this control, just recovering in general. Paul Johnson was also there, and we caught up some. I took off, but not before I heard Peg share "too much information". :)

It was still raining, and as I took off for the info control, I didn't even realize that I had forgotten to put on my rain pants and my helmet cover. I pulled over at the school and saw Paul Johnson go on by as I covered the last of my exposed areas. My face was the only area left uncovered. I would have made the Taliban proud!


I pulled up next to Paul, and we shared memories of wonderful rides (that dry and hot 1000k in 2006), to make us forget the current drudgery. Ron Himschoot, that fount of wisdom, calls randonneurs "too dumb to quit". Having signed up for this ride despite knowing the weather forecast, I could find very little to change his opinion. Peg, Lesli and Sara were pulled over fixing a flat, and I just assumed that they were heading back to Stoney Point Road: they hadn't yet.


Everybody stopped at the info control, but I knew the question, and the answer, and just made a U-turn and headed back. Stoney Point Road climbs gently, and offers more of a chance to admire the scenery. I half-expected Paul to catch up to me again, but somehow that didn't happen. It was raining in earnest now, and I stopped every 5 miles or so to wring out the water from my gloves. I would squeeze my fingers together in a fist and more water would come out.

I have always cruised on this stretch: I do not know why. We had a monster headwind in 2007, but I still made good time. This time, it felt like there was a tailwind, and I cruised by. I should have noticed that the water was flowing in my direction. I was headed generally downhill. Quite a few riders were headed back to Vernonia, and I calculated - correctly - that most of them were hours ahead of me. I passed a pensive Bill Alsup, and reached the Birkenfeld control. There was a small group there trying to warm up, and stay next to the heater.


Birkenfeld to Vernonia


I bought some food and huddled up, and warmed myself. I ordered the biggest Hot Chocolate they sold, and drank it down. It was pretty demoralizing to have to go out in the rain again, but I took off again after about 15 minutes, warmed up considerably. The ride back to Vernonia was mostly a very gentle uphill, but the winds were generally co-operative. I made it to the Coffee shop with grand plans of another excellent Hot Chocolate.


Vernonia to Glenwood

I have long wondered why some coffee shop workers have lousy reputations. They supposedly ignore people and do not have the right attitude. I had never been exposed to this kind of behaviour before, but I guess there is always a first time. I am being generous when I say I got my "Hot Chocolate": it was neither. I ate my cookie, told Peg (and Lesli and Sara) about the general standard of the refreshments, and took off, confident that they would catch me before the Timber climb.

Rain, rain and more rain later, I climbed the Timber incline. My rear-view mirror showed three hard-charging randonneuses, who I tried to beat out for "person of the mountain" points, but Peg cheated and beat me (she stood on the pedals) :) I am the heaviest of the lot but somehow they bombed ahead of me, leaving me quite shocked. I finally caught up with John, who has a very interesting name, and pulled into the Glenwood control.


Glenwood to Finish


There were quite a few bikes at this control, and we made quick work of this control. None of us argued when the clerk commented that she hadn't seen rain like this for a very long time. John and I left together, but not before the trio of Lesli, Peg and Sara. Just before the tavern on Gales Greek Road, they pulled into the covered area, and I thought they were pulling over for clothing adjustments. It turns out that they had another flat. We were rewarded by a nice tailwind. This has always been a great benefit of this ride. A nice 10 mile jaunt to the finish, but I somehow got separated from John.

About 3 miles from the finish, a stranger made his (?) appearance: the Sun. We had about 15 minutes of dry weather on this ride. John and I pulled in together to the control, where our cards were signed by a smiling Sam Huffman. We were done! I chatted with Susan and Sam for a little while, and then took off for Beaverton.


I am wondering if I can get David to change the definition of a rainy ride to gloves and/or socks!?

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!

Familiar roads, unfamiliar pain.

Prologue

Familiar roads are fun, like visiting an old friend. While some things remain the same, there is always great pleasure in noticing something new about them. Some permanents qualify as old friends. Some of the perks include not having to consult the route sheet much, being aware of what turns are to be made, and what each turns looks like, and the scenery in general terms. Some of the newness comes from construction, the weather, seasonal changes, time-of-day changes, your body, and the like.

Pain however, is not much fun. It's like visiting a few relatives of mine. When I was at their homes, all I could do was try and find something to alleviate the "pain". My body betrayed me on this ride. My mileage this past few months has been very low. It's my own fault of course, but it gave me a good reminder of how little we can take for granted in the randonneuring world.

Needing a 200k for December, and seeing a rare (for December) above freezing day, I set off for the Arco Gas station in Redmond to do the Snoqualmie Valley and Falls Permanent this past Saturday. I rode to the start, and as the fog thickened I stopped a couple of times to seriously ponder whether I should even do this ride today. But, nice days in December are not to be wasted. This kept me going.

My original plan was to start at 5a, but I overshot the Arco gas station, and then rode back to get a receipt, only to find out that I really needed to use the bathroom. The Arco station had no food and no restrooms, and so I was forced to go to the 7-11 near Sammamish Valley Cycle. The clerk there refused to let me use the bathroom, so I just bought food. As I lined up to pay, he asked me if I was from India. When I replied in the affirmative, he let me use the restroom in the back: no lock on the door, and the door didn't close completely. Lovely! Apparently he thought that an Indian wouldn't mind the substandard restroom facilities. I was in no position to argue the injustice of it all to him however. Redmond 7-11 bathrooms are apparently for Indian looking people only.

6a: Start to Lake Stevens

It was foggy. The climb up Novelty Hill Road wasn't particularly cruel, and the turns came fast and easy, and the route sheet was rarely consulted. The joy of riding familiar roads. The sun started poking his head out of the mountains near Snoqualmie Valley Road, and I stopped to take a picture of the glorious light on the greenery.

Traffic was light, but the lights at all of the farms were on. Some people start early. I reached Lake Stevens with plenty of time to spare, and took off after about 10 minutes. My left knee let me know that it was still in trouble, but nothing untoward.

Lake Stevens to Sultan

The fog was lifting, and the trail was full of runners, and quite a few men wearing "Army" uniforms running on the trail. I almost took out one gentleman who hastily turned left with nary a warning, and my "On the left" went for nought: iPod. Just before the climb up Old Owen Road I met another bicyclist out on a permanent ride:

Unenventful roads and an even more uneventful climb up Old Owen Road later, I was at the SubShop in Sultan, which is a faster stop than the Bakery (blasphemy!). My plans of holding off Mark Roberts (who was to start an hour and a half later on this same ride) succeded. But as I was finishing my food I was greeted with "Narayan, what are you doing here?". It was Mark. I had only beaten him here by 10 minutes! ;)

Sultan to North Bend

I set off ahead of Mark (who got a nice Coffee and a sandwich), knowing fully well that he would catch me before long. This has always been the stretch where I have lost time in the past, and this was no exception. However, I pushed the pace a little, trying to gain some time, and this had disastrous consequences. Shortly before the return trek on W Snoqualmie Valley Road, my left leg started troubling me too. It wasn't the knee, but rather the outside of the right knee right where the upper part of the leg attaches to the lower part of the leg (hey, I am not a doctor).

I slowed the pace down, and stopped to stretch the IT Band. Mark caught me just as I started back up, and rode with me for a while. My evening plans included the Nutcracker at McCaw hall (My wife's company Christmas Party), and Mark's included dinner with friends. After asking me to raise my saddle a little bit, Mark took off. Did I stop and raise my saddle? Nope. I was quite sure that it wasn't anything to do with fit. After all, I had completed a 1000 with this same fit. Near Sandy's, my right knee started hurting a "tad". I didn't have time to stop and have coffee at Carnation. I was riding slower than 15kmph now as I ignored my legs' request. This weather may not come around again. I did stop and stretch a few times.

The climb up to the falls, was not quite as bad I thought it would be. I half expected to not encounter Mark on his way back from North Bend, but I did see him in Snoqualmie, shouting encouragement. When I got to North Bend, I was thankful for the break.

North Bend to Redmond

A sane man would have bagged it here. Home wasn't that far off. I thought about the weather, the R-24, and plodded on after about a 10 minute break. Darkness was falling all around us and Mt Si was lit up beautifully from the setting sun. I was running late, and didn't manage to win any brownie points on this ride, that's for sure. I don't remember much of the details of this section, except to say that I tried to find every conceivable leg position, pedal action and muscle pressure. The final solution (shudder!) was to move my knee towards the top-tube, and not apply any pressure at all on the downward stroke of my right leg. This gave me relief from the pain, but the pace was horrible. I finally arrived at the Fred Meyer about 11 hours and 45 minutes after I started. I was running late for the Christmas Party and in some pain.

My left knee hurt, but my right knee was in a class apart. I saw a doctor, and have been recommended Physical Therapy, and a bike fit at the hands of Mr Erik Moen.

Nutcracker Update

I came home, showered and very quickly set off for Downtown Seattle. We were quite late to the Christmas Party and all the vegetarian food was gone. Nice! To top matters off, I kept nodding off during the Ballet, and despite my wife's best attemts at keeping me awake by nudging, hitting, and tapping all failed. I don't think I am a ballet man.

Knee Update

Having been thoroughly freaked out by the experience, I visited Erik Moen at Corpore Sano, and got a bike fit. He was aghast at my bike fit. My self-guided idiocy was hard on his eyes, and he set me up the right way (My saddle was raised 3 cms). The benefit he said, will be better climbing ability and better speed. I have been cleared to ride 10-20 miles on flat lands only. My January permanent is now under serious jeopardy. However, all this snow and ice has meant that I haven't been out to test my new position.

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!