SIR's Windy Ridge 600k 2009 - Another Great DNF

Of course I went into this ride with a determination, or at least some kind of afterthought, that I really needed to complete this ride this year. It's a tough course, not just in terms of time/distance, but also in terms of terrain. (Check out the profile here) Four major climbs: Paradise, Windy Ridge, White Pass, Chinook Pass. And extra challenging this year also in terms of sleep deprivation what with the 9 PM start.

If this is rando school then this 600k brevet is certainly an advanced course, not for beginners. Even as an intermediate rando at some points I feel like I'm over my head a bit on this ride. This is truly advanced suffering. But like they say shoot for the stars and you just might hit the moon, right? (e.g. I always figure that even if I DNF these big rides they at least make for a good story & photo set)

This year at least my camera's batteries were fresh, so once the sun came up I had plenty of opportunities to take some shots.

The Ride

After some pre-ride notes from Jan, the group of about 11-12(?) of us set off From Enumclaw into a clear summer night. Nice and warm, no need for a jacket or leg warmers yet. Seemingly within meters of starting a few riders were already way up the road, their red rear lights getting smaller and smaller - for some reason it always seems like they're on a motor scooter since you can't see their feet moving, and they seem to move away so fast.

The group of about 10 of us congregated and settled into a nice speed - I have no idea what that speed was as I was saving my Garmin's (15-hour) battery for closer to the start of the Paradise climb. Night riding can be a drag sometimes (well, most of the time for me), but in a large (and fast-ish) group time seems to fly and if you aren't conversing maybe you can listen to others and generally enjoy the ride.

Somewhere before Eatonville Chris & I noticed that Robert wasn't in the pack anymore. (read his ride saga here) Had he suffered a flat? We had no idea but were hoping we'd see his light behind us catching up at some point. Looking back, I kind of wish we'd waited but in the rush of the first few hours I think we were happy to be sailing along in the group.

Then, a Disaster of Sorts

I forget which road it was on, but some time in the first two or three hours I hit a large pothole (the kind that seemingly grabs your front wheel for a moment) that sent my handlebar bag into the top of my Schmidt E6 front light, knocking the whole casing of the lamp onto the ground. I heard the sound of plastic hitting the ground just after the pothole, looked down and saw my front wheel in darkness, which was bad since the light normally partially lights up my front wheel.

So I cursed loudly and slow down, hoping to recover the light and get it back working. After all it was maybe 11 or 12 at this point, so we had a good deal of night riding remaining in (not to mention the second night of the ride). Once the lights were out, and the group had quickly gone up the road, I realized how utterly dark it was on this road. As I was turning around I saw a bright bike light up ahead, and was relieved to see Chris roll up asking if that was my light that fell off. Indeed it was.

I found the light casing, screwed it back into the mount and spun the wheel. Nothing. Shit. Then Chris asked a great question - do you have a spare bulb? I didn't think that the bulb had fallen out altogether. The advantage of riding with someone else (especially at night!) is that when your brain isn't really working maybe theirs is.

In fact I did have a spare bulb, even if in the rush of this little disaster I'd forgotten it was stuffed into my handlebar bag. I was more than relieved when slapping it in there and it did the trick. Nothing like the feeling of fixing something broken, especially when you're depending on it to move forward.

Only thing was that part of the plastic mount the E6 on had broke off, so it wasn't mounted quite as solidly as it used to be. It was jiggly but stayed in place. I rode for an hour or so with it pointed way too low, only maybe 20 feet of light in front of me when there should be 100+.. I was too impatient to mess with it since it was at least partially working and Chris' LED E3(?) more than made up for my lack of light.

The thing about this handlebar bag was that I usually don't use it on this bike just for this reason - it comes down too low for how I mount the E6. So this time I thought I'd be slick and tie it around my brake/shifter cables instead of the bars, thus raising it a few inches - though this stopped working as soon as the weight of the bag was pulled down onto the light by that damn pothole. So after fixing the light I flipped the handlebar bag over so that it sat on my stem - an odd-looking position but it was the best I could do to help the light stay in place. It got the job done.

(For what it's worth I also had a backup light, but it was a weak CatEye LED I use for commuting - a true last resort that I luckily never had to break out - not something I would have wanted to descend a pass with, for sure)

Moving On To Paradise

We passed through the tiny town of Elbe, which I've passed through quite a few times this summer on various rides, but never at night. Water supplies were fine (had 2.5 bottles on the ride, 1.5 left at this point maybe), so it didn't matter to us so Chris & I just pedaled through.

At the Rainier National Forest Entrance I decided to finally fix up my light which had been pointing too far down. Chris was nice enough to stop and wait while I fiddled with it. I was hoping Robert would still catch up to us but still he was not to be found. Eventually my light was pointing straight again, hooray, I could climb & descend the mountain with confidence.

Paradise Climb

I always enjoy this climb and was excited to do it again even though I wasn't expecting to see any scenery since it was so dark out. It never gets overly steep, and this year I felt a little quicker up the mountains than last year's version of this ride (last year was on the Surly Pacer, which weighs about 10 lbs more loaded, and more importantly isn't as stiff as the Ciocc).

At one point we turned a corner and were met with what seemed like a blast of furnace air. Weird. It felt like riding into 12-noon out of nowhere, but it didn't last long and the temp got back to the 50-ish it was before (I assume).

To my shock we bridged up to Dan Boxer soon after Longmire - he's a pretty amazing climber and usually drops me on climbs of length. Seemed like he was a little tired and was happy to have company. We stuck together and the three of us got to the summit before too long.

Oh, and on the way up we could see Mt. Rainier's peak in the moonlight! A sight I'll never forget.

The Ciocc atop Paradise (4,000+ft) at about 4 in the morning.

Dan took a 10-minute cat nap (Chris might have as well) up at the top, and another rando was up at this control (Barry?) sitting down and possibly also napping. After all it was 4 AM.. I was antsy to roll but at the same time didn't feel like descending into the night alone, most likely to have them catch up later anyway.

The four of us left eventually, and the descent down was a blast, albeit a bit risky at times I suppose. I led it out and was pushing it on some of the initial straight-aways, trying to spin out my 53x11 gear. Before too long there were three small lights behind me, off in the distance. Soon we hit the stop sign and they weren't too far behind me so we continued together.

Sometimes on a sharp turn my E6 lamp (which doesn't have the widest beam) didn't quite cover the whole road - so I was either going off of moonlight to see or maybe the riders' lights from behind. It was a rush though, I loved every second of it!

On To Packwood

After the descent we took a right on Highway 123 (Cayuse) and got a nice little downhill for the most part to Packwood. By this time it was starting to get way colder and I donned my leg warmers & long-fingered gloves. It seemed odd that it was getting coldest at sunrise or so but that's the way it was.

I had a breakfast "burrito" here at the store, and refilled my water bottles. So far, so good. I think we'd done about 100 miles at this point and while we weren't breaking records we were moving along.

This section on US-12 & a backroad we got to Randle the last place we could buy food or water for something like 90 miles. Next up was the climb up to Windy Ridge, just 30 miles away. Sometimes 30 miles can seem like an eternity, especially when the overall average speed approaches 12 mph not to mention this is a mountain climb.

Climb to Windy Ridge

In fact this portion of our ride encompassed the High Pass Challenge, a century+ put on by Cascade for the last few years that was my first intro into mountain climbing on a bicycle. Funny how things have progressed since then, though I still wouldn't say the HPC is an "easy" ride.

The difference with our approach to the Windy Ridge takes us up a slightly smaller & steeper road, FS-26. Leave it up to SIR to find an even more challenging route than the "Challenge."

I felt stronger here than last year, as I remember being dropped by our little group early in this climb then. I stopped for a photo-op/rest opportunity shortly after reaching FS-26, and let Dan and Chris go ahead. After that I felt invigorated and found myself climbing in the big ring (well, part of the time), hoping to catch back up to my companions before too long.

Eventually I caught them, though they'd taken their own break so that certainly helped.

Dan on FS-26, a Forest Service road heading up to FS-99 and Windy Ridge. It's got some nice kicks up towards the top, I think this was where they started.

Up towards the end of FS-26 it seems to just go straight and no more switch-backs to help you with the grade, the engineers decided 10%+ was OK for the last mile or two. Ouch, that section hurt with a 39x27 low gear, but I somehow made it. If nothing else a good workout in itself.

We got to a "control" where a lone volunteer had been sitting in the sun and signing brevet cards and handing out water all day. Though I had enough water to get by it was nice to munch on some chips and get some ice in my bottle. Huge thanks to John(?) that sat out there forever helping us out.

We started the ascent and were now in the blast zone, taking in all the scenery. Almost too much to take in at once: St. Helens crater in the distance, Rainier behind us, Adams and Hood over to the left. Wow. It just doesn't get much better than that.

The only thing I hate about this climb is that a) I can never tell where the end is, at least based off visual clues, e.g. all those turns look the same! and that b) there's a good deal of down along with the up, so on the way back you're not always descending. Ugh.

Finally, the Windy Ridge viewpoint! At about 12:00 PM we reached the viewpoint of the blast crater and Spirit Lake. Here's a shot of Dan & Chris taking in the scenery, and enjoying some off-bike time.

(As a side-note, I learned yesterday on my return visit here with Kira that there's a much better view of St. Helens at the viewpoint just before Windy Ridge - next time around I'll stop there for a photo op too)

We didn't take too long here and before too long were rolling again. We were well within the time limits and I felt decent, though was looking forward to some "real" (e.g. hot) food back in Packwood, which was hours away.

We went back to the mini-control and I had a Sprite that really hit the spot. Chips also hit the spot as did some pancake pieces that were offered. I'd been running off Clif Shot Blox/Gels, and some peanuts I bought in Packwood, but I didn't bring any real food and was depending on resources to fill in that void. Possibly a mistake but it's worked on other rides..

We set off and started the (annoying) descent/ascent back to US-12 and onward to Packwood. I actually felt pretty strong on US-12 heading back east and we had a nice tailwind so I geared it up and got it going - then a big truck came by and gave me an extra woosh, so I geared it up to 53x11 and got it really going. Only for a few seconds probably but it feels good to do that ~20 hours into a ride. Dropped my companions but I knew I'd see them again in Packwood which was only miles away.

Back in Packwood, I had two orders of mozzarella sticks, a piece of Dan's burrito - which hit the spot, but looking back I should have had more food here. Also, I probably shouldn't have doused the burrito scraps in "Taco Sauce" that ended up being spicy.. I like spicy but not on long rides.

I caught a case of the hiccups here in Packwood that lasted, off and on, all the way to the overnight control at Rimrock Lake which was something like 30 miles away. In fact the hiccups even re-surfaced a little the next day, weird. Rando rides do strange things to your stomach, this much I know.

Climbing White Pass

Leaving Packwood I started to feel less and less "good," and the ride started to be less and less "fun." Also, food/drink seemed less and less enticing. Uh oh. These are signs of either dehydration or inadequate fueling.. I probably should have had a real meal at some point along the way. I was thinking about calling it a day/night at the control if possible. The ironic thing is that Chris was feeling a bit ill up to this point and was saying the "D" word a lot, but I kept silent and hoped we'd both get past our ill feelings toward the ride at that moment.

On one hand this was "the big brevet" for me this year, but also I didn't feel a great sense of urgency to carry on for some reason. I'd already accomplished Super-Randonneur for this year so that wasn't an issue I guess.

Now climbing White Pass (4,500ft) at about 7 PM or so - the sun was setting and we were nearing the "overnight" control - the mile markers seemed to take forever to tick down, we "only" had 12 miles to the summit or something like that. Just a few 6% grade stretches for 2-4 miles and some slightly less steep stuff and we're home free. We'd covered about 370k (230 mi) at this point.

Chris said we were holding about 6 mph and I was happy with that, it was faster than it felt. It was a pace we could all live with, and we reached the summit at about the same time. It was getting darker and colder now, and Dan & Chris stopped to add some more layers for our descent to the cabin at Rimrock Lake.

I just wanted to get this section over with and only donned arm warmers for the descent, I didn't feel like digging out my jacket or leg warmers even though I might regret it. So I set off and told them I'd see them soon, most likely at the control.

An Early End

I made it to the overnight at about 8 PM and was extremely happy to be there but still not feeling good about the rest of the ride. We'd get maybe an hour of sleep and then need to set off or else be in danger of getting close to the control closing times. I felt like I needed about four hours of sleep in order to tackle Chinook at this point - things just weren't adding up to me finishing.

Would I be able to even stay there at the cabin? Since there's no SAG wagon, would Kira even be up for picking me up and taking me back to Seattle? How much would a taxi back to Seattle cost anyway?

Ryan generously offered chili, minestrone, cheese, water, all kinds of good stuff. Mostly at that point I just wanted plain water, which I hadn't had in hours since all of mine had Nuun-tablet flavor in it, which I was now sick of.

I picked at my chili and couldn't really get much of it down, and the hiccups were still off and on. I didn't feel necessarily sick but didn't feel like riding over a pass in an hour or so either. The options were clear: sleep for an hour, get up at about 11 PM and head up and over Chinook Pass in the night, or stay here, sleep in, and hope Kira would pick me up in the morning.

I was relieved when Ryan said I could stay there overnight no problem, and even more relieved when I called Kira and she agreed to pick me up the next day. Thanks baby! That was a huge favor). My ride was over and I couldn't have been happier, at the time. Though of course in the back of my mind I already knew I'd regret it, but oh well. It's just a bike ride.

When Ryan woke Dan & Chris up after their hour-long nap, I was soooo glad to be curled up in bad and able to just stay there.

My incomplete control card - a memento for motivation for next year.

The Next Day

Kira came and got me from Rimrock Lake pretty early in the morning, and since it was such a long drive I figured we might as well make the trip worth it for her and visit some of the local sights. We went back up over White Pass, stopped at the scenic overlooks and headed out to Windy Ridge.

Kira had never been there so we figured this was the time to do it! And even though I was there the day before it would be fun to visit Windy Ridge as a passenger and take in the sights. (She posted some cool photos from our mini day-trip here)

I kept thinking about how if I'd continued on I'd still be riding at that moment - which was hard to imagine after having slept in and now going on a road trip. The latest one could finish the ride was 1 PM Sunday morning, and had I continued on I'm sure I would have been close to that. It was more riding than I was ready to deal with I guess.

Chris said later that he and Dan took three "ditch naps" on the way up Chinook Pass, and got up to the top at about sunrise. Wow. Kudos to them (and everyone else that finished!) for being strong and sticking it out - I'm truly impressed. Hopefully I can join the club next year, but until then this will just have to be another one of my growing collection of epic DNFs.

A Ride From the Other Side

For the first time this past Saturday, I volunteered on a ride instead of just showing up to one - the Summer 100k, this time around called The Sound and the Fury. Rather than handing my bottle to a (sometimes anonymous, I must admit) volunteer for a water refill, I was juggling others' bottles refilling them. As opposed to handing off my brevet card, proud to have made it this far in the ride, I was checking my watch and scribbling down the time and my initials.

It's actually quite a good feeling to give back to Seattle Rando, which is made up of many volunteers. Seattle Randonneurs hold some of the biggest brevets in the nation, and we probably have more volunteers than any other club as well.

While randonneuring is of course "unsupported long distance riding", the rules stipulate that you can receive outside assistance at controls. This opens up the opportunity for one or more volunteers to drive or ride to a control location, either to hand out water/snacks, sign brevet cards, or both.

Pedaled down to South Park, riding in jeans which I rarely do these days. Construction downtown meant for a confusing path on sidewalks, and I realized I should have taken 12th down to Jackson, and just skipped it altogether. Oh well, I made it down to South Park eventually, though a little later than planned. Lucky for me, I wasn't running the show, Robert was taking the reigns along with Chris G. and Emily.

At the start on the Duwamish River in South Park, lots of SIR blue in sight:

Chris and Emily were taking on what looked to be a confusing process: signing in riders. An extra form if you're not a SIR member, different process if you are but not registered, etc. They made quick work of it, and I was glad not to have to deal with it.

What started as a small group of people soon grew to 60+, and soon before 9 AM Robert was preparing to give his first "pre-ride speech." It's when you get to joke about how easy the route ahead will be, and remind everyone to have fun out there. I didn't get to hear it since John W. and I left a few minutes before to get to the first control, only eight or nine miles into the ride. (The route needed a control early on, lest anyone wanted to skip the great hills Robert found!)

We set up shop, and were joined by Vincent M., an experienced rando even though last year was his first year too. He's ridden more kilometers than I can shake a Zefal Hpx at. And he's got smiles for days, which must make for a nice greeting to the control.

Before too long a small group of riders showed up, already split from the main pack even on the mostly flat terrain leading up to it. But not too long after them a big wave of 30 or so riders came up us at once, breaking into three lines so each of us could sign cards at the same time. (When a group of riders show up they all get the same time, if I recall the rules correctly)

We waited until a few minutes after the control closing time, not sure of the exact count of riders on the course or how many we'd seen. We left the control and headed down to Dash Point, the halfway point of the ride and our next assignment.

On the way down, we realized the SIR sign was forgotten at the last control. Lucky for us Vincent was nice enough to lend some supplies and a hand in fashioning a sign out of cardboard, a few small planks of wood, and some tape. John applied some marker and we had a new control sign - not to be deterred by the situation, we randonneurs figured out a fix and kept on truckin.

We quickly scooted down to Dash Point, and set up shop there. Two big jugs of water, a bunch of Payday bars (a rando favorite, must be the peanuts), chips, and Rice Crispy Treats. Though the control was about to open (there is actually a max average speed limit in a brevet, around 25 mph), nobody showed up for a good 15 or 20 minutes.

A few of the speedy riders came through first, of course looking fresh and in great spirits. Reactions to the question "so ya like those hills?" got varying responses throughout the day, and these riders seemed like they truly enjoyed them. Further on in the day some met the question with a wry smile, others a laugh or a shake of the head.

It was great to see all of the different bikes ridden on this ride. This one was really interesting, the "top tube/down tube" part were made of some kind of horizontal lattice - just when you thought you'd seen all the bikes, even the folders. It goes to show that randonneuring really is a big tent!

More riders taking a short break on a hot day. The Payday bars and water went quick, we made a lot of trips to the nearby convenience store to resupply.

The riders had been split up by the hills by this point, as is always the case on our rides. Even so, they come in waves, grouping together based on friendships but sometimes just plain pace.

A few riders came in 10 or so minutes before control closing time, but lucky for us (I'd hate to break the news) nobody came in too late. We waited until about 10 minutes after the closing time just to see if anyone was coming through and could use some more water anyway. At that point they might as well continue, even if they wouldn't get the little medal at the end.

Here's a great shot of the finish at Loretta's in downtown South Park. This just might be the only time there will be cigarette smoking at the finish of a populaire..
Thanks to John W. for taking these pictures - more posted on flickr.

We sat around and heard tales of the day and caught up with old and new friends. Robert was around back, welcoming riders at the final end point. He did a great job setting up the route, and figuring out all the crazy logistics.

Unfortunately the ride didn't go off without a hitch though; one rider was hit by a car, only a few miles from the finish. He was luckily OK from what I heard, but his (new) bike had been apparently totalled. Every organizer's nightmare would be for a rider to get injured while on the ride, but of course there's nothing you can do to prevent it.

After it was all said and done, I got home but realized that I never saw a few of the late-arrivers at the end, even though we left Loretta's probably 30 minutes after the control time was expired. So I checked with Robert and got the name of one guy who was missing, and he gave me the name of two others who's status was unknown. After a few calls they were all accounted for, all healthy but admitting they'd just ran out of time.

I was relieved to hear that everyone made it to the finish, so we could finally rest. Though at that point Robert was just beginning to dive into what sounds like a swirl of paperwork around preparing the results. Thanks, Robert! You and the rest of the volunteers did a great job in putting this together. And if we ever organize a brevet, maybe they'll really let us pile on the hills?

Robert wrote a great account of the ride, and all that went into it, here. Mark Thomas took some great shots along the route, which can be found in his flickr set. (This one in particular is great, I love the walking riders! Granted I think that was the 16% section)

While I was initially jealous of the riders getting to do such a great ride on a beautiful day, I'm glad I volunteered. I think every rando should do it at least once, and see what it's like from the other side of the water bottle. Thanks to everyone for coming out, and I'm really looking forward to the upcoming 200k!

Come Do 100km With SiR

Ever wanted to give the whole rando thing a try, without having to sign away a whole weekend?

Perhaps you'd like to ride with us, but aren't sure if you "can hang."

Well now's your chance - behold the 100km Populaire being put on by Dr. Codfish, Robert, Chris G., me, and Seattle Rando:





Well I can't take much credit for doing anything in preparation for the ride, Dr. C & Robert have done the lion's share of the work - I'm just tagging along on their coat tails.

Pre-ride registration has ended, but you can still show up tomorrow and get a brevet card and a cue sheet. What's a brevet card? Well that's the funny little piece of paper you carry around and have signed at each "control" - and there will even be a few "info controls" where you have to write down something you see. This is the "paperwork" of randonneuring that some love, some hate.

As for the course, it's a darn good one. SiR elders wouldn't let us make this a "killer hills" route, but being SiR they of course allowed for some good old climbs. Randos love climbing, this is one thing I know. (Well, at least brevet course organizers like them!) There are a few memorable hills for sure - I remember seeing 16% grade on one of them - but hopefully nothing that will turn people away from riding with us.

There will certainly be some grunts of "who created this course?!" but once you crest that hill and look back a great view of the sound, the fury will soon leave your body.

Come out and see what you think of it tomorrow! I won't be riding, just helping out along the course. The weather looks great, so you realy have no excuse not to show up.

Auburn-Westport-Auburn 600k: From the City to the Coast and Back

This weekend was Seattle Rando's 600k starting in Auburn, about 25 miles south of Seattle. After completing the 200k, 300k, and 400k's from earlier this year it was time to take on the next challenge. When you complete all four of the "series," you then qualify for the Super Randonneur award, and of course I want it! Last year it took three tries to nail down a 600 and the SR award, but this year I was hoping to get the first one done.

I think the 600k is where the randonneuring really starts - on the 200k-400k distances, you can get away with ill fitting gear or bike, inadequate nutrition, minimal training, and/or lack of sleep and planning. You can get away with those on a 600 too, but it's a long time to spend if you're not happy.

It's not that the 200-400 are small rides, but they are just practice for bigger rides. Such as the 600.

Gear For The Ride

I chose to ride the Ciocc for this ride, which doesn't have a ton of space for gear, but since it was warm enough outside I could get away with a small saddlebag and a ton of Shot Blox/food in my jersey pockets. I caught some flak from other randos for traveling so light, but it worked out. It's nice to have everything you want, but sometimes you can get by with just what you need, or something close enough to it.

My packing list was pretty short compared to normal; without a large handlebar or saddlebag, I left out a few things usually brought along: spare socks, leg warmers, arm warmers, extra tools/parts, a bunch of tubes.

For some reason I was confident that I could "get away with" going ultra-light. Luckily, I was right!

I just had to do a few modifications to the Ciocc to get it ready for the 600:

• Changed out the Bianchi race saddle with a Brooks B17, a much wider saddle that really is the best one I have. (As a side note, I've decided I don't like the Brooks Pro model, it has a weird convex shape)
• Put on the dynohub, and attached the Schmidt E-6 headlight
• Slapped on a rear "race blade fender" - all it does is protect your butt from spray.. my plan was that if it rained I would just go to the back of the pack (if applicable), and prepare to suffer for a while. If I recall correctly it's been a long time since a cyclist and their bike has melted from the rain in June.
• Put on two rear LED lights, one as a backup
  

Clothes

• SIR short-sleeve wool jersey, light poly base layer
  
• Ibex wool shorts
• medium weight wool socks
• Jacket for night or rain

Yup, that's it. No spare socks, shorts, or arm warmers, etc. Just the basics, just enough to get by. I figured at worst I'd be dirty and uncomfortable - two things that are just temporary, I can deal with that. Lucky I only ended up dirty, not really uncomfortable due to my clothing choices.

Food

• Shot Blox "fastpacks" - about 10 packs. Those things really add up in weight, and were tugging at my jersey pockets at first. But the great thing about food is that it disappears into your stomach eventually. Finished with two packs left over.
  
• Shot Blox gels - a few fruity ones, some with caffeine. I wanted to save the caffeine ones for when they really counted; at night or on the second day. In the end, I only used one of them, a caffeine one. I should have left the others at home.
  
• Two burritos - Kira offered to put together two of her great burritos for the ride - sweet! Beans, cheese, avocado, salsa. I ate them throughout the first day, and it was great to have solid food anywhere I wanted, and also to skip long lines at food stops.

Of course that wasn't enough food for the whole trip; it was supplemented along the way by gas stations, controls, etc.

Other

• Tools - 5mm allen for bike adjustments, 4mm allen for SPD cleat adjustments, FiberFix spare spoke, spoke tool, chain tool, spare batteries for rear lights & headlamp
  
• Backup front light (Cateye LED, pretty weak by rando standards), backup rear LED
  
• One tube, and a pack of Park quick patches. Yup, just one tube. It was my dirty little secret along the way, many randos would have scoffed at the low number.

The Ride To The Ride

Lucky for me the commute to this ride wasn't quite as epic as the last brevet. With the brevet starting at 6 am 25 miles away, I could wake at 3:30, leave the house by 4-ish, and keep at least a 12.5 mph average speed. Should be doable even with a possible flat tire along the way, and it's really flat along all the way.

The nice thing about riding to the ride is that you don't need time to get ready once you get there. You can just get your brevet card and go. No threat of a low tire, missing helmet or shoes, no need to warm up. The ride down is the warm up.

The Ciocc in Renton at about 5 am. Making perfect time down to the start.

I took Rainier Ave down to Renton, from there taking E. Valley Highway which turns into Auburn Way or something like that. A pretty straight-forward and flat route, and with no traffic and the sky starting to turn pink, it was a great ride. I was familiar with it since most of the ride down was the same as to the Chili Feed 200k a few months ago.





Got to the start of the ride at about 5:35 or so, plenty of time to get my card and say hello to a few folks.

The start at a hotel in Auburn:




The Ride

Our route started in Auburn, Wa - just south of Seattle, then took us west to Tacoma, from there over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge and north to Port Orchard. From there more or less southwest to Westport, on the coast. Then from there south for a while on the coast, then head east to Centralia. From there north-east back to Aubrn. Nothing too hilly, but of course it wasn't flat either. Here's the bikely route:

SIR June 09 600k

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The rollout at 6 am on Saturday of about 60 riders. The guy right behind me in this shot was on a fixed gear, and finished in about 24 hours I heard. Whoa, that's a whole other level I don't think I'll ever be on.. he's prolly doing Raam or something, and using my "epic" ride for "training". Just goes to show there's always somebody out there stronger/faster/better than you:

The fast riders like Ryan Hamilton went off the front soon into the ride, probably doing 23 mph while we were doing 20. I sat with the pack, about 20 or 30 of us rolling through mostly empty morning roads. Oh if only we could have kept that peloton intact for the whole route, it would change the ride. But we all knew the first big hill would break it up, and from there on out it was pretty much either on your own or in smaller groups.

The first control broke up the pack pretty well, with some riders stopping for water and others continuing on. I rolled out pretty quickly, and was riding with Chris, or perhaps it was Robert. Eventually all three of us were together, and we went over the bridge towards the rest of the ride.

The Tacoma Narrows bridge:
I hear the crossing for cyclist on that bridge used to be a different experience - a narrow lane and small divider between you and traffic.. these days it's a nice wide bike lane, inviting cyclists to cross it frequently.

Then on the peninsula we headed up to Port Orchard, through a bunch of backroads that pretty much all looked like this - which isn't a bad way to spend a few hours on the bike:
I'm glad I'll never get tired of views like that, since you get a lot of them on rides in Western Washington.

Now heading down the Hood Canal, I think:

We hit the next control, and Eric Vigoren was there offering all kinds of goodies and water. Got a refill and ate a few cookies, but before I knew it I'd spent too long there, and our small group of 5-6 had left me behind while I visited the porta potty.

After a 10-minute chase at 22+ mph, with the pack eventually in sight though far away, I finally got up to them. In a ride like this I've learned that sometimes if you let a group go you may never see them again. On the other hand, sometimes you end up seeing the same people even though they're ahead of you. But I didn't want to risk it, so I figured the extra effort would give me saving later in the group.

Before I knew it we arrived at the Union control, a general store where I got some iced tea, water, and ate some burrito. We sat on the porch for what seemed like quite a while, but I guess we weren't in a hurry. We had hours in the bank already, and I for one felt good but didn't want to push too hard. I'd rather go too slow than too fast and blow up, so I try to pace it well on these rides though it is hard sometimes.

After the Union control we got on a really nice backroad, our little group of five or six intact. Joe, Andy, Robert, that one guy and a few others maybe. A good medium-pace group to ride with, and conversation always makes the ride go faster, even if you're just listening to one.

But on the turn onto Highway 101, we hit an incline and Robert started falling off the back. I hung back with him and we slowly watched the group fade away. It's a harsh reality that in the end we're all out here to ride our own ride, but sometimes I just can't let someone ride by themselves especially if they aren't feeling bad. We all have bad days, and it seemed like Robert was having one.

But he was in good spirits and we continued on together, soon getting on familiar roads from the 24 hour fleche back in April. More great backroads that were almost all flat. We made slow but steady progress forward, which is all that counts on a brevet. Going slow is a lot better than not going at all.

In Matlock, which is really just about three or four buildings and a general store, we caught back up to Joe & Andy, and stopped to get some water and whatnot. I saw this little PSA inside - just had to get a shot:
I guess they've had issues with that lately. Man that must be embarrassing when you call 911..

Robert & I continued on, past the Corrections Facility and through tons, and tons, of woods. Or clear cut woods. We were soon joined by Mike Richeson, who once helped me through a 600k in Oregon. A great randonneur who is really steady and good to ride with. We continued on with him for miles until a few hills put him in front of us. We caught back up to him and eventually turned onto that one road that heads west to Montesano.

I don't remember what road that is, and honestly I don't want to! First of all it's just about the worst chipseal on the ride. Only five or six miles of it to Montesano, but it was so rough that my handlebars were bouncing around as if I was riding on cobbles. Second of all we turned into a fierce headwind coming from the coast.

It was the kind of headwind that demoralizes you and makes you feel like you're going backwards. I decided I wanted to spend as little time on this road as possible, and sprinted into the headwind, if only to go 20 mph it meant I would be done with it that much faster. It was good that I was alone at this point - looking back I couldn't even seen Robert & Mike any more - since I was cursing out loud at the wind. All you could hear was the roar of the wind in your ears, it was really brutal.

Before too long I was in Montesano, and took a left on Main Street to head towards Cosmopolis, just as we'd done on the fleche. I pushed on at a snappy pace, faster than I'd done earlier in the ride. Caught up with another rider but then lost them when I stopped for a nature break in the woods on Blue Slough Road. While in the woods Robert & Mike passed by, and I quickly caught up to them. So much for my breakaway!

The three of us rolled up to the control is Cosmpolis, and finally caught back up to Andy, Joe, and the rest of the group we'd been rolling with before. They were taking a break and we had time to sit down and eat some chips, get some water, but made it short so we could leave with the group.

We rolled out quickly after the group did, and caught up to them just after we went through Aberdeen, a small town that was even smaller than I thought it'd be. We got on a road with a wide shoulder, and the group was rolling efficiently.

At some point, I think it was an uphill, I just kept pedaling at whatever felt good, and before I knew it was ahead of the pack. Then looking up the road there was a rider way in the distance. Nothing like a "rabbit" to entice you to chase! I for some reason gave chase, and opened it up more than I had before on this ride. For once I was actually getting faster as the ride went on, instead of the opposite.

Caught up to the rider eventually, I think it was Joe Llona. We rode over a little bridge on a bay and it was finally time to see some water. I grew up surrounded by water so I always have an affinity for it.

And then we were at the Westport control, just another gas station in the middle of nowhere. But at least they were close to the water.. I made this a quick control, got some water and munched on the burrito. There was a Subway inside but I wanted to stick with what I had and keep the stops quick from now on.

As I was leaving Robert and the crew were rolling in, but I pressed on. If anything I figured I'd be seeing them at some point or another, and indeed I did, though not for quite a while..

I turned on the Garmin unit here, since it only lasts 15 hours so I wanted to see just how slow/weak I am after 15+ hours on the road.

Interestingly what felt like 300 watts was only 150.. it seemed I could only put out 250 at most on the climbs whereas when fresh that's closer to 450w. Part of that is obvious - as time goes on you just can't keep up the same power - but I wanted to measure where I come in on these long durations. Not to compare to others' data, but to compare against myself in the future.

Leaving Westport

After going through Westport at about 6 PM, I left my friends behind and started a solo journey that would last just about the rest of the ride to the 400k point, which ended up being about six hours away.

I averaged about 30 km/h for the next hour or so, after that I stopped keeping track. That was higher than normal but from looking at the elevation profile it turns out a lot of that was slightly downhill! But I was making good time either way, and probably better time than I ever had on a ride this big. It's really easy to bog down as you get bored/tired, but I was trying to avoid that.

You could kind of smell the ocean, but couldn't see it yet. Just a few houses, and one with plywood nailed up all along their fence, apparently trying to hide a broken house, with a patched-up roof. Interesting neighbors I'm sure.

Eventually the road (Hwy 105) finally hit an open view of the Pacific for a few miles, this was pretty much the "goal" of the ride for me. It was so worth it!




After a mile or so I hit another spot I just had to stop and get a picture of:

I've always wanted to ride from the city to the coast and now I've done it, though in a round-about way. Woo hoo!

On the next stretch it started to get dark, and the lights came back on. I kept expecting to see the group's lights coming up behind me, but they never did. I also never saw anyone in front of me until I got to the Raymond control, a little corner store. There I had chips and water, and stocked up for the next 30 miles or so until the Rainbow Falls control, where Dr. Codfish and others would be waiting with good cheer and snacks - I was really hoping for a Cup-O-Noodles, and that thought helped me through the next stretch.

At one point my E6 headlight started to flicker - not in a rapid, predictable fashion, but seemingly at random, and not just when I hit bumps. I was really weird, and kind of disconcerting. It was 11 pm or so at this point, and about as dark as it gets. I had a backup light, but it was so small I'd be embarrassed to use it on a brevet (it's more of a be-seen light). After stopping and unplugging the connection to the dynohub and then pluggin it back in, it seemed to work again. Weird.

A few riders passed me when stopped, and I eventually ended up passing them after a long while. It was like the tortoise and the hare, but you know who won that one..

After a while I saw a sign that said "1/2 mile to Rainbow Falls" - sweet! That meant food and rest was not far off. Soon I saw the expected blinkie, a SIR tradition for controls that are generally out in the middle of nowhere and in the dark. Rolling up to the blinkie there was an empty field and a road on the left. Hmm.

Well what not take the road on your left, right? I mean the cue sheet said this is where the control was, and there was a blinkie so... I rode down the road for about 1/2 mile, but didn't see anything but dark houses. Nothin.

So I turned around and headed back to the blinkie, what the hell was going on? Upon getting back to the main road, I looked at what seemed to be a tiny sign stuck to the real road sign. Hmm, looking really closely I could see what looked to be ball point pen scribbled arrows (e.g. hard to read at night) pointing forward. Hmm, this is not SIR tradition to give you tiny clues and riddles, but I figured something must be up that way so I trudged on.

I was kind of irate at the situation, and I heard others went further down the road (like 10 miles further) and were ever more upset than I was. But by the time I rolled up to the tent on the side of the road that ended up being a mile or two up the road, I was just happy. How could I be mad at smiling volunteers offering a Cup-O-Noodles? I sat there and snacked, talked, and rested. With shorts on it was either keep moving or get chilly, though the space heater they had set up was great. It was an excellent control, thanks!

Robert and crew eventually caught up here, but I was about to head out. It was only 20 or so miles to the overnight control where a lot of food and a shared bed was waiting. The plan up to a few hours ago was to ride through the night, but at this point (a tiny bit of) sleep felt like a better option.

I rode through the dark solo, and ended up going on that one road from Chehalis to Centralia that the STP uses. Got to Centralia before too long, and rolled up to what seemed to be the biggest operation in SIR control history.

Centralia Overnight Control

A bunch of rando bikes at the 400k "overnight" control in Centralia. Of course, the riders that wanted to finish in 24 hours or so rode straight through. I got in at about 2 am, and slept until 4:30. Ate a bunch of pasta and salmon. Wait, salmon?! Yes, they went all out for this one. And even promised a custom breakfast burrito in the morning. An ever-smiling Vincent M. was there offering positivity and calories. An also smiling Peter Beeson led me to a room where I could get a few hours of sleep.

Without a drop bag, I just slept in my bike shorts. I kind of wish that I'd had some boxers to sleep in, but it wasn't all that bad. I was only down for two hours, and then hit the road at 5.

Day Two

Once I got up I had a smidgeon of coffee, a huge breakfast burrito, and hit the road with Chris and some other riders that had been ahead of us all yesterday. I'd slept less than them, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to put up with. The finish was "only" 200k away!

It was another dry day, though it seemed a bit chillier. Centralia-Alpha road was looming ahead, and I knew it was going to be some climbing. We were only going to hit about 1,800 ft so how bad could it be?

The Ciocc, in motion on day two.

It was fun riding them for a while, having caught up to someone faster. Though soon I overheated and needed to take off my jacket. Then it was the rest room.. and before I knew it they were gone up the hill. I didn't have the energy or determination to chase, so I let them go.

The road was really scenic, and nothing but farms and forest surrounded us. It was overcast and there was fog in the hills. A tiny bit of sprinkle came down, the only precipitation the whole ride. It was an excellent road to ride on, and I was glad to be doing it during the day so I could actually see it.

Lots of lush scenery like this on Centralia-Alpha road, which went on for 30 miles or so. Nothing but forest, fields, and road.

There were some nice inclines along the way, but nothing too crazy.


Nice little river somewhere between Alpha and Morton or so. Just had to stop to get a shot of these rocks:


This road went on for a while, and eventually I came to Morton, a tiny tiny town east of Centralia. The gas station was up the road and I stopped there to have some more cheese sticks (one of my favorite fried goodies on rides) and water. Oh I also had some donuts along with the cheese sticks, I was loading up for the day ahead.

Met up with Joe P, who I'd ridden with yesterday but had gotten away from. We rode together for hours, and eventually Robert caught up too. He caught up as we were resting and they rolled off while I still wanted to rest. Funny how we jump in front of each other so much on these rides, but I was happy to see Robert looking good again. I got on the road and caught up to them before too long.

Now in Elbe, near Mt. Rainier. Getting closer to the end! I forget how much we had left here, but it was still enough to make me think "ugh, I wish this ride was over."


We went through Elbe, and got on part of the Ramrod route. Didn't stop for anything there, I'm getting better about passing up chances for water if I have enough. We rode as a group on the way to Eatonville, on a tiny road that was hillier than I'd recalled. The cars were getting heavier in the early afternoon, lots of RVs and trucks pulling trailers. Passing on blind curves... hey it's their life, I guess they can do what they want with it.

I started to get tired on this stretch. Finally, after about 28 hours of riding with two hours of sleep, the sandman had come for me. For some reason it was when I was taking a pull at the front of our small group that I'd seem to drift in and out.. without anything to focus on I think I would just lose track of reality and the road. When it would happen I would just peel off and go to the back, where it seemed like I could wake up again.

I ate some caffeinated gel and felt a little more awake. We got to Eatonville eventually and sat down at Subway for a quick snack. We knew it was the home stretch. Plenty of time in the bank, we were in no rush.

Here was my afternoon snack in Enumclaw, about 30 miles from the end. (Jalepeno cheese stick with relish for dipping sauce, and iced tea):

After Enumclaw we got on Green Valley road, a familiar one for SIR training rides and brevets. It's flat and scenic, and went by quick. We kept trudging along, all wanting the ride to be over for sure.

Eventually we turned off of it and were back in Auburn! It was about 4:20 PM. Pretty much the only time I'll ever be excited to arrive in that town..

The final control in Auburn. Hooray!

At the final control we congratulated each other and handed in our cards for final inspection. I couldn't believe it, I finally finished a SIR 600k! Granted, it was one of the "easy" ones but hey I'm not sure you can call anything about a 600k easy.

We went into the hotel room reserved for resting/washing, and was greeted by Chris who had gotten in an hour or two before us. Pizza and soda never tasted so good. We all told war stories from the ride and shared our experiences. Even though we were all on the same roads, our experiences varied as much as our bikes do.

Then it was time to head back home - for once I didn't feel like bumming a ride home and actually was excited to complete the 425-mile door-to-door trip.

Results are here. Be sure to check out Robert's view of the same ride here.

The full photoset is here. The photos actually tell a better story than what I can do here - but there are 250+ of them!

Data from Westport to about Raymond (battery went out, I left it on at the overnight)

Entire workout (119 watts):
Duration: 7:00:59
Work: 3096 kJ
TSS: 190 (intensity factor 0.521)
Norm Power: 148
VI: 1.21
Distance: 263.748 km
Elevation Gain: 2612 m
Elevation Loss: 2512 m
Min Max Avg
Power: 0 727 123 watts
Cadence: 15 127 63 rpm
Speed: 0 79.7 25.2 kph
Crank Torque: 0 194 17.9 N-m

The Ride Home

After a celebratory four or five slices of pizza at the end, of course washed down with some sprite, it was time to head home. Just 25 miles back north to Seattle, and it was pretty flat. I was tired, but not too tired to continue on. At some point you just reach a "steady-state" where you can keep riding for what seems like forever, as long as your mind can handle it.

My mind can take it, but just barely. Part of what keeps me entertained along the way is taking these pictures so I can show people what it was like along the way.

Finally back in Seattle, at about 7 PM on Sunday. And of course one of the first things I see is someone with rolled up jeans walking a bicycle.. oh if I had a nickle for every time I've seen that on Broadway... (actually I'm glad they're on a bike, but I do see that a lot)

It was a great feeling to roll on Broadway, knowing the bike and I were now "connected" to roads far, far away. All the way to the coast.

It was a great ride, thank you to Albert for organizing it! And thanks to all of the other volunteers I forgot to mention, it wouldn't have been the same ride without your support.

Big Commute + SIR 400k Brevet: North Bend, Ephrata, Omak, Etc

When I first saw that this year's Spring 400k was starting in Ephrata, 180 miles east of Seattle, I was a little dismayed. So far the brevets had started 20-60 miles away, reasonable distances to ride to the ride. I enjoy riding to rides of all sorts, including brevets. The biggest ride to a ride I'd done was the extra 76 miles I tacked on to Ramrod last year.

But eventually I got the idea to just ride out to the start of this brevet too. Not since last year had I done Snoqualmie Pass, and I've been itching to see snow on mountains close up for quite a few months. With a day off from work Friday before the brevet, I had plenty of time to get there before the brevet start at 5 AM on Saturday in Ephrata.

So this wasn't a last minute decision at all - I'd been planning to ride out for quite some time when the day came. The initial plan was to camp out in Ephrata, but I think that might have been biting off more than I could chew. I went as far as to pack up a sleeping bag, mat, and bivvy in a Carradice "Junior" bag, and somehow all that fit in there. Commuted with the extra four pounds on the rear of the Pacer, but in the end I just rented a hotel room. Maybe I'll camp out next year, or on the upcoming 600k.

So all I needed was a little bit of extra energy, lots of patience, and a bike, to get myself out there. And once I found a nice alternate route from Cle Elum to Vantage (skipping I-90 on that section) the deal was sealed. You can see my route to the ride on Google Maps.

While I've done quite a few passes last year, I've never done one without being on a brevet or official ride. Riding into the mountains by yourself feels like you're taking on the whole world. Yes it's a little daunting, but when things get scary you know you're at least breaking new ground.

Short version

I did about 155 miles on Friday, riding from North Bend to Ephrata. Then on Saturday I did about 250 miles (409km), riding from Ephrata to Twisp-area, to Omak, and back to Ephrata. Definitely the most riding I've ever done over a two day span. (About 400 miles in all, or 640km)

The full photo set can be found on flickr.

To read about the 400k only, jump here.

Read on for the long version.

North Bend To Cle Elum

Lucky for me, Kira was OK with dropping me off in North Bend Friday morning - just so I could shave off 30-50 miles depending on how you get out there. North Bend is the last town before ascending up to Snoqualmie Pass, so it's a good place to start when doing Snoqualmie.

Test ride in North Bend after breakfast at Mc D's:

Now on I-90. Traffic was light, but loud. It was chilly, but not too bad. Once you get on the road it doesn't seem as scary as when you think about it. But there were a lot more (tiny) rocks on the shoulder than I'd remembered.

The sun had been rising for a while, but was hidden behind the mountains for the first hour or so of the ride. Unfortunately it disappears behind the mountains soon after this stretch, until you hit the summit. From last year's 400k over this pass I'd remembered to pack cold weather clothes, even if it's going to be a hot day. (A road sign said it was 34F near the top)

I was sporting thick wool socks, booties, wool knickers, two base layers, one wool, long sleeve wool SiR jersey, Ibex wool vest, and long-fingered wool gloves, and a hat.

The grades were gentle for the most part - my Garmin unit showed somewhere between 0% and 6% grade. Last year I was riding an unloaded Ciocc on this pass, and was able to do just about all of it in the big ring. Not so much on the Pacer, I was chugging along at 16 km/h for a good chunk of this ascent.

Snoqualmie Pass summit - 3,022 feet. It's not really a hard climb to get up here, but you certainly notice it.

View near Snoqualmie Pass summit:

I-90.

The Pacer at Keechelus Lake on I-90. It felt a lot colder in this section, and my ears and hands were freezing. I added wool arm warmers, skull cap, and thicker gloves to block the chill. Felt great after that. Somehow last year I pushed through here in a short sleeve jersey, arm warmers, and short fingered gloves.

Near Cle Elum my alternate route put me on Bullfrog Road, an excellent back road. I didn't know it would be this nice from looking at the map, but I was hoping for scenes like this instead of the drab views on I-90 from Cle Elum to Vantage. I was in luck.

Cle Elum - quaint:

Breakfast in Cle Elum at the Bakery. So good.

After Cle Elum I took Higway 10 towards Ellensburg. From the map it seemed like there wasn't anything between these two towns, so I stocked up on water & food. I brought about 8 packs of Clif Bar Shot Blox, which are my new favorite ride snack.

I was definitely impressed with the views offered on Highway 10 on the way to Ellensburg:



I kept saying to myself "it just doesn't get better than this." But that's the great thing about finding new roads, there's always something more impressive, or at least different, around the next bend.

River view on the way to Ellensburg.

Now in Ellensburg:

Gardenburger in Ellensburg. The fries were pretty good here too. (At one of the two "U-Tote-Em" burger places in town):

Pacer at burger joint in Ellensburg:

Now on Vantage Highway, on the way to Vantage. No stores for 60km, which isn't too big a deal, but you need to be prepared. I had a third water bottle just in case. It's a foldable thing used for camping, which works nice since space in my luggage was limited. Every square inch counts. So when it's not in use, it's tiny, but unfolds to hold about 24oz. of liquid.

Because you can't have too much water for a long stretch like this:

Rocks and road on the way to Vantage - traffic was really light along this route, and there were very few big rigs. Quite the opposite of I-90:

Pacer with Mt. Rainier in the background. This was near the Wild Horse Wind Farm. We drove through here on the way back to Seattle on Sunday, and went to the visitor's station - a 3-mile climb up to the top, getting close to the huge turbines (Diameter of the rotors is apparently bigger than the wingspan of a 747). That visitor's center would make for a great control on a brevet..

Vantage to Ephrata

In Vantage I upped on water and continued on. I knew that the most challenging part of the whole ride was coming up. Not a climb, but the Columbia River bridge on I-90 at Vantage. Somehow, while WSDOT does a great job of considering cyclists on I-90, this bridge doesn't even have room to walk across it.

Approaching the bridge, the shoulder just disappears. I stopped to wait for a gap in traffic, but there weren't really any gaps. Just had to go for it if I wanted to continue..

So I went for it. I tried to hug the rail, staying as far right as possible and just trying to stay in a straight line. The first truck that encountered me, a smaller white moving truck, gave me a nice honk. Did I mention this is an uphill grade here? It was going to be a long crossing, even if it's only 200 meters long..

I'd turned on all my rear lights, and put my reflective gear back on just to be safe(r) on this crossing. For the first half, things seemed to be working out. Cars and trucks were going around - I mean there are two lanes to choose from, after all..

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, I was buzzed by an 18-wheeler, traveling easily at 70 mph. The damn thing passed with what seemed like inches, but it's hard to tell when they're going that fast. I was lucky not to be sucked under its wheels..

I was both shocked with disbelief and livid with anger that this truck had seemingly decided to give me a scare - that it plain just didn't see me. I realized exactly how close I'd just come to getting squished - I could have died on that fucking bridge.. but there wasn't much time to ponder this event, I was still only about half-way over it, but the rest of the crossing was uneventful. When I got to the other side I had to stop and take a breather, and reflect on how much I hated that bridge crossing.

(Side note about the crossing: Was talking to Peter Beeson after the ride, who has done the Cannonball ride that does this same bridge. He said the trick is to take the lane, forcing traffic to go around you, instead of giving them space to squeeze by. Sounds counter-intuitive, but this is the case in many traffic situations and I think he's right.)

I wish I'd been able to see what trucking company it was, all I remember was some red on it. Oh, if I could call their "How's my driving?" number and give them a piece of my mind..

The Pacer at the scenic overlook just off I-90. I still can't believe I made it across that thing alive.

One of the gazillions of semi's I encountered along the way. Either you get used to them, or they'd drive you crazy. But I was only on I-90 for about an hour from Vantage to the Ephrata exit, so I didn't have to spend too much time with them.

Highway 28 to Ephrata. While the view was OK here, I hated that the road was just straight with no surprises around corners. And the shoulder had cracks every ten feet or so, for about 20 miles. Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump..


Ephrata!

At about 5:30 PM - 12 hours after starting - I rolled into Ephrata. Hooray! I didn't feel too tired, but I was hungry and a little sunburned. I'd put on sun block but had missed a few spots. After checking in I was really happy to have a shower, air conditioner, and all these things I would have missed had I been camping.

A nice lay-down dinner in Ephrata - I ate just about the whole pizza, and saved a few slices for breakfast.

"Main St" in Ephrata:

SIR 400k brevet start in Ephrata

At 4:15 the next day I rose to ride again. At about 5 AM the pack of about 50 riders was ready to roll:

After the usual pre-ride notes, we hit the road. A left out of town and we were quickly on desolate roads; the views reminded me of that OR 600k last year.

Even though I'd ridden out the day before, I didn't feel that much different than a usual brevet start. Meaning, I felt just as groggy as usual at 5 AM. But I was happy to be on the road and feeling strong.

The road turned up, and the pack thinned out. Kole was certainly off the front, I don't think I ever actually saw him. (He finished in about 17 hours!) Joe P. & I joined up, and rode with about 6 other people in a nice double paceline for a little while. The roads seemed empty except for bikes, and the sun was just coming up. It was going to be a long, but great, day.

Before too long we came upon this. A road of loose sand, gravel, and rocks. A straight gravel road would have been easier to ride on. (This was presumably paved a week ago when they did the pre-ride)


You can see the tracks of riders looking for a good line to ride on. You'd find something that seemed firm, then plow into a big patch of untouched dirt, or a huge rock. I heard a few people walked it, and I'm sure more than a few took a spill on this - I had to walk one uphill section, but walking four miles sounded worse than struggling at (what must have been) 5 mph or so.

But on the plus side, it had great views!

We finally made it off that hellish stretch and took a left on Highway 2. Somehow I didn't get a flat on it. Eamon Stanley joined Joe & I for the short ride to Farmer, where Mark & Bob were eagerly awaiting with coffee, muffins, and jokes.

At the control in Farmer. Mark joked to "look out for the gravel" as we approached. Heh.

Back on the road, heading into what seemed to be an abandoned land. Farms appeared every few miles or so, but besides them there wasn't a lot going on. I thought it was a great way to spend a few hours, for sure:

The views were somewhat dynamic, even if it was all fields for now:

I rode alone for most of this stretch, until I stopped to take off layers and two riders caught up. I think one of them was Dave, the other Joe, but I can't remember. We rode together for a little while, but as the road started to turn up I stayed in the big ring (oddly feeling actually strong) just about all the way up.

I didn't realize it, but we were climbing a pass! Soon after the left on to McNeil canyon road we were at the summit. McNeil Pass - 3100 feet. Higher than Snoqualmie Pass! From the elevation profile of the ride and how it looked, we came up the easy way. It barely felt like a big climb. The descent was great! Saw a few locals chugging up the other side of the pass, one with a Ramrod jersey on.

I kept thinking the riders behing me would catch up, which was a good way to keep the pace up. (I wasn't using a cyclo-computer at this point since the Garmin had long ago run out of juice)

Turned on to Highway 97 and kept chugging along, even taking off my booties while riding, since I didn't want to stop at all. Just wanted to make good time and not waste any.

Highway 97, heading towards Pateros:

The Pateros control. It felt good to have a few slices of pizza here and refill on water. I filled up the third bottle just in case the next stretch took longer than expected.

On the way out of this control we were held up by a parade of bikers, complete with "corkers" holding traffic at bay. Having done more than a few Critical Mass rides, I couldn't really complain (some locals did). See the video of the parade here.

Highway 153 towards Twisp:

More great views:

With old buildings along the way too. But when you see those "Pass With Care" signs you can guess that there were probably a few head-on collisions at this very spot. Spooky.

At the control at the turn on to Highway 20, I had a great PB&J sandwich made by a volunteer (didn't get his name). Thanks! Also got more water, and generally enjoyed being off the bike.

When I got to the control there were 20 or so riders there, with bikes strewn about. A few, including mine were leaning against some mail boxes. A local drove up to check her mail, and I apologized for the bike that was in front of th mail box, although it wasn't even blocking her from opening the door. Her response to my overly-generous apology was "Typical."

That's all she said, and stomped off with her mail. Uhh, Ok. I guess she meant typical cyclists not getting in her way and generally not causing problems? You're welcome, I guess. Next time I just won't say anything I suppose.

This stretch seemed to hate bicycles in general. On the way up Loup Loup Pass, a few other riders & I were honked at by passing cars (e.g. one honk per rider), and then a guy in a pickup flipped us off going the other way. They must have had a rowdy gang of randos come through her and beat people up or something, because for some stupid reason they hated us. A lot. Whatever.

At the top of Loup Loup - 4,020 ft - the grades weren't bad going up, and if I was on the unloaded Ciocc I probably could have been in the big ring the whole way up. But in was in the small ring, just glad to be moving, on the Pacer.

On the way down Loup Loup (I think):

The way down was nice, and there wasn't a big headwinds like there are sometimes around here in the passes.

I was trying to catch a rider up ahead, if for nothing else just to make things interesting. When you're going that fast, it comes down to how fast can you spin?

I eventually caught the rider but then stopped minutes later for a photo op. I guess I was making up for lost time by going fast previous to this.

The descent went on, and on, and then turned into a 1/2-mile steep ascent, that was interesting. Once again, it seemed like we went up the "easy" side of the pass, but maybe it always seems like that.

Sounds like they do this pass the other direction on the Cascade 1200, so there's always an excuse to get out there again.





A Pioneer Museum in Okanogan:

Strange architecture/design in Okanogan - a lot of the town's businesses were surely struggling, and many were closed. That little town is hurting.

We passed through the saddening Okanogan and then were soon in Omak, which seemed to be doing a little better. I got off track here and added a few bonus km's, what else is new. Back on track I found the Conoco control and enjoyed some cheese sticks and lots more water.

Joe & I rolled out of this control together, having "stocked up" just like the cue sheet warned us to do. Mark said he'd be on this stretch, since it was 60(?) miles with no service.

The view of Omak Lake from Columbia River Road heading away from Omak:

There were a bunch of big black beetles crossing the road, and Joe suggested I try to get a close-up of one of them.

The next one we saw happened to be sticking it's butt in the air, maybe trying to dig?

I thought about dropping it in the dirt, but I figured I should let natural selection do its thing instead.

The "secret" control on this desolate stretch before Electric City, which was still 30 miles away. I (stupidly) tried to DNF here, but not because of any physical ailment. I was just tired of being on the road I guess, and asked Mark if they had room in the car. The thought of being carted around in a car full of food sounded more than tempting.

But they didn't have room, so the only option was to carry on. I'm soooo glad this was the case, as in the end it would have been a pointless DNF, just out of mental lazyness.





















A Cup-O-Noodle really hit the spot here:

This was at about 7:30, and it was getting dark soon. Before I left this control I threw my reflective gear back on, and flipped on the dynohub. Joe had left minutes earlier, so I was trying to catch him. This stretch of road was more of the same beauty we'd been seeing all day, but it was slowly being wiped away by darkness.

There was a two-mile climb, at roughly 10%, coming up to Nespellum(?) and Highway 155(?). I made it up the climb without dying and still felt decently strong, although I hadn't caught Joe yet.

At the turn on to the highway it was officially night time, and I was alone. The party-drivers were out in full force, honking at bikes, yelling, etc. I feel guilty for thinking this, but at the time I thought, "don't you have a head-on collision to cause right now?"

I think I was generally grumpy from being on the road so long, and energy levels were getting lower. The Shot Blox were still good, but I was definitely tired of the Nuun tablets in the water I'd been using.

I was also kind of hating riding at night, not being able to see much beyond the road in front of me, and still having "only 50 miles" to go. When speeds are approaching 12 mph average overall, that sounds like a long way at 9 PM.

After what seemed like hours of riding through the dark tunnel, I made it to the Coulee Dam area and finally caught up to Joe & another rider. We were soon at the Electric City control, where I enjoyed potato-cream soup, water, and chips. Thanks to Shane (I think) for the soup, it really hit the spot.

Joe had left this control before me, which makes sense because I normally end up spending too much time off the bike on these long rides. I was on a mission to catch him, and had a new-found source of energy. I have no idea what speed I was doing, but it felt like it was at least over 15 mph (25 km/h), which is faster than what I usually do at night or at the end of a long ride.

I could see Joe & a few other riders' lights in the distance, and it gave me a "rabbit" to chase. When I finally caught them, I decided I wanted to finish this thing as soon as possible, and just kept going. Before too long I couldn't see their lights behind me, and knew I was making good time.

The next stretch was very desolate, but the stars were out in full force. I of course had to stop a few times just to remember what the Milky Way actually looks like. After the turn on to Highway 17, we were on the home stretch and it seemed to be mostly downhill.

Without a cyclo-computer, I had only the mile markers and cue sheet to keep track of how far to go. I was glad to be within 20 miles of the finish. At about 10 miles from the finish I passed a rider sitting under a street light next to his bike, looking very still.

I circled back and asked, "You OK?" which apparently woke him up - he was doing that crazy thing randos do called sleeping on the side of the road. Said he was waiting for someone to come along, that he felt too tired to ride alone. Sounds good to me, I was actually getting tired of riding alone too.

I think his name was Will, can't remember. Another rider, Noel, joined up with us and the three of us cruised into Ephrata, 22-ish hours after starting. Woo hoo! Vincent and a few other faster riders were in the finishing hotel room, and gave us a hearty applause upon entering. What a great group of people!

Another brevet in the bank, and one step closer to Super Randonneur for this year. During this ride I thought about how I probably wasn't going to do the 600k coming up, since I learned how much I hate night riding. But of course, after about 24 hours the "randonesia" sets in, and the dark memories give light to grand stories and fond figments of imagination. You bet I'll be at the 600!

Huge thanks to the organizers of this great ride, and all the volunteers. It was a wonderful journey.