SIR Spring 200K: Au Revoir et Merci

Prologue

If the entries in this blog are any indication, I've been off the bike for a while. Since November. My R-12 streak - which was at 27 months - came to an end. I think Thai Nguyen is the current leader at 48+. Four R-12s: Mon Dieu! Duane Wright is not that far behind Thai. Enough about them; this is about ME! :)

5:40a: I rode to Kingsgate Park and Ride in Kirkland to be picked up by Thai. I forgot my helmet and had to ride back, which means I missed my appointed hour of 6am by 2 minutes. I didn't know this at the time, but slogging to make time was going to be the theme. We chatted about randonneuring, PBP 2007, and rides past, including Thai's 1000k-on-fixie.

The start was full of riders, fulfilling Greg's desire to go out with record participation. The Coxes, like the Thomses are one of the two ride organizers who open their homes to us. The hill to Greg's house, and the hill up to Mark Thomas' house occupy a special place in SIR ride lore. Greg has helped out more than one rider (including this one) with his endless supply of gloves, helmets, water bottles, and bike parts saving many a rider from a DNS or a DNF. The food, course, attention and encouragement are all top notch. I was a bit sad about this being the final Chili Feed. Maybe Greg will do it again in a few years time. ;)

Start to Town and Country Foods

After some ride instructions, which included the ominous insertion of "a bonus vista", we set off. I hung out safely in the back, no point venturing forward when you are going to get spit out faster than a rotten peanut. I knew exactly where this "bonus" vista would be, having ridden one of the Winter Training rides in years past up that very "vista". I was quite nervous about this ride: I was croaking. Only seeing several well-known faces (though some friends were nowhere to be found) kept my mind off my task for the day: to show up back at Greg's house riding my bicycle before 8:30p.

I rode with a huge bunch, flying down the hill on 240th street, and braking severely at times for the lights. Mike Huber, an old buddy on these rides, pulled up next to me and we started catching up with each others lives. Just before the first climb, Mike found out that he forgot his water bottles at the start. I had two, and I was pretty sure I could buy another water bottle along the way, and so I gave him one of my water bottles.

They pulled away on the climb, and the first of many chain popping offs started. I had just replaced the chain, and it kept falling off the back when I attempted to use the lowest cog in the back. Frank Wilson, stopped to see if I was ok, but I waved him on, leery of delaying him. I eventually made it to the top, and I pulled over to look at my problem. Eric Simmons and Frank stopped, and Frank adjusted my derailleur, and hopefully things would be well again. Things improved tremendously after that, but I couldn't use my lowest cog throughout the ride.

As we headed toward the water, I knew that I was in for some pain. I made it up the first little grade ok (and Frank even rode back down to see if I was ok, when my chain popped off again), but I didn't have it in me to ride the next little bit. Halfway up, I swallowed my pride and started walking. The 24" gear to the rescue! I didn't want photo evidence published, but I was in no shape to ride up that grade. Eventually near the top I got on my bike again, and Joe Platzner took a photo of me riding up that grade on my bike. I finally got to Town and Country Foods, and met Mark Thomas, Vincent Muoneke and Amy Pieper, and was told that I had a whopping 13 minutes in the bank. The first "Should I just quit?" thought just entered my mind, but I quickly put it away: there was no way I was going to DNF the final Chili Feed!

Town and Country Foods to Black Diamond Bakery

At the coffee store, I ate a couple of donuts and some salted peanuts in record time, and got back on my bike. There were four of us vying for Lanterne Rouge: Eric Simmons, Frank Wilson, David Smith and myself. (though I didn't know that Paul Johnson was behind us, having suffered an endless succession of flats). This group helped me forget my "DNF' thoughts, and I focused on getting to the next control. Another climb and no chain incidents.

Green Valley Road was as pretty as ever, with the farms, the fog, and the blue skies. I was stopped just before the Black Diamond climb to apply bag balm, and Chuck Hoffman passed me with a "stop lollygagging, and start riding". The climb went rather uneventfully, but I did have to zigzag to reduce the grade. I finally made the control to a huge collection of volunteers: Mark Thomas, Peter McKay, Amy Pieper, Bob Brudvik, and the Nussbaums. I had 8 minutes to spare. Duane Wright was leaving the control as I pulled in.

Black Diamond Bakery to Greenwater

An enthusiastic and cheerful group of volunteers will do for your brain what several hours in the bank cannot do, and that is provide welcome distraction through conversation, and lots of encouragement. When I professed doubts about making the Greenwater control it was quickly shot down by Mark and Amy with a look of absolute certainty on their faces (fakers!): "Oh, you will make Greenwater". Ralph was adamant that I would make time on the next leg: "We got here at about the same time as you did, and we finished in 10 hours and change". It is words like these that help you keep going for it's harder to quit when you know that others want to see you succeed. Thanks guys! I might have thrown in the towel here had it not been for you.

All of the randonneurs had left. I got two blueberry strudels, sat outside and and joked with the volunteers about the fastest riders, and moved on right as the control closed. The rain started on Black Diamond Road, and matured to a full-on hail session just before the "Secret" control on Cumberland-Kanaskat Road. There was also a bit of headwind, but when I arrived at the "usual" location of the control, but there was no one to be found. I soldiered on, into the wind and the hail, and the downpour, and after about 2 miles, I saw Mark Roberts on the side of the road with the SIR control sign. I stopped just enough to get my card signed and see if they had any food. But Mark and Rick Haight were both out of food, and so I went to the Cumberland store to get a Pay-Day bar.

At the left turn onto Greenwater, David Smith and I pulled over for a moment. We had 2 hours and 2 minutes to go 17 miles. I was sure I wouldn't make it, but I was determined to try. I took off at first, and the climb to Mud Mountain Dam Road had me by the @#$@#, but I got to the top, and started seeing riders coming back to make the left turn. I would have killed to be in their shoes. Dozens and Dozens of cheering faces went by, offering recognition and encouragement. The temperature kept dropping as I neared Greenwater, and I could see my own breath for the first time all day. I had no time to stop and put on clothing.

Riding with no time banked isn't a problem IF one has the ability to bank some. The prospect of a mechanical delay or getting lost was terrifying. Mike Huber was headed back the other way and rode over to my side to thank me for lending him my water bottle. I feel now that I acted rudely by not slowing down to talk to him, but I had no choice: I was focused on making Greenwater. Sorry, Mike!

I had dropped Dave Smith, and he hadn't caught up to me at all, and I suspected a DNF. Two miles from the control, he blew by me dead set on making the Control. I pulled into Greenwater at 4:06 with 2 minutes to spare. I got the clerk to sign my card, and he signed it with "4:11", which was 3 minutes outside the time limit. I had to show him my phone to get him to change the time. The store had a nice sign inside that said "Welcome, Bike Racers".

Greenwater to Enumclaw

I was relieved. The hardest section of the ride was over. Sure, 218th Ave loomed large, and so did the final climb to Greg's house, but they were minutes of effort, not hours. They were all out of Pay-Day bars, and so I was forced to buy a Snickers bar. Duane Wright was leaving the control, and I found out that Dave Smith had suffered a flat, which was why he wasn't ahead of me by a half-hour at least.

The ride back from Greenwater wasn't quite as fast as I expected, but I felt good nevertheless. David Smith again blew by me, and this time there was no catching him. A wee bit of rain also started falling at this time. The misty sort. The splash from vehicles on the highway made things dirtier than they needed to be.

As I made the turn onto Mud Mountain Dam Road, I saw two people pulled over on the side fixing a flat, and after a quick "Are you ok?" I moved on (shame on me!). The rain started hammering down, and the descent down Mud Mountain Dam road, ordinarily no cup of tea, was pretty painful. Stinging rain on ones face while going downhill in excess of 20+ mph! Yippee!

I spied a green jacket ahead, and caught up to Duane Wright, with whom I rode to the Enumclaw control under clear skies. The time was 5:57. I had more than 25 minutes in the bank for the first time. I finally knew that I would finish the ride.

Enumclaw to the Finish

We drank Hot Chocolate, commiserated with the clerk who had been signing cards all day. Our riders were well behaved however, and she had no complaints. We all donned out night riding gear. As the clock struck 6:10, I had the hankering to move on again, so telling Duane that I would ride slowly, I took off into the fast approaching darkness.

I knew this next stretch almost by-heart, so I made my way as fast as I could, but upon starting the climb up 218th, I finally remembered that I told Duane that I would soft pedal, so I really backed off, and waited for him about a 100 meters up the climb. Duane wasn't far behind, and by virtue of his fixed-gear, had only one speed to go. He didn't weave back and forth, and maintained an even pace straight up the face of the hill. We were also joined at this point by two other gentlemen, who I didn't catch the name of, and the three of us caught Duane waiting for us at the next turn.

The next few miles are almost entirely downhill, so we all hammered to make some time, and when we got near the fire station, the two gentlemen peeled off. Duane took off again up the hill, but I wasn't that far behind. We rode in together to finish. I was so relieved! No DNF! But a new Personal Worst at the 200k distance. 13 hours and 6 minutes. As Jason Dul says, DFL (Dead F-ing Last) is better than DNF. :)

Post ride

There were several volunteers cheering for us at the finish: I saw Dan Jensen, Eric Vigoren, Maggie Williams, Greg Cox, Lyn Gill, Mark Thomas, and Peter McKay, all of whom offered congratulations. I picked up the water bottle that Mike Huber had returned. I had some incredible Vegetarian Chili, and fruits. Thanks Greg and Mary for so many years of fun.

Mark gave me a ride home, and I tried my best to butter the President by saying nice things about Apple. Time to get in shape for the 300! It promises to be considerably flatter than this one. I'd be happy to just finish that one too :)

R-1 in the books.

SIR Spring 600: Truth in advertising

Prologue

Starting a 600 without first completing a 400 is something I have never done before. Endless promises of a flat 600 had me fantasizing about a strong finish, something very quickly dispelled by the organizer, Albert. "The course is not flat", he said while shuttling between the drop bag truck and the hotel lobby. A lot of new roads, and a lot of familiar roads awaited.

I met a lot of the usual suspects at the start. Michael Huber was there and confessed to being quite strong on the bike this year and was having grand ideas of riding straight through. I found myself on the opposite side of the spectrum. Having DNF'd the 400 in Ephrata (at about 300k), I was wondering how I would fare. My only goal was to finish, and I rode with precisely that aim in mind. I would keep my control stops short, and en route dalliances to a minimum. Three hours of sleep at the overnight would be nice, but not necessary.

Start to Ruston

I rolled out at the back of the pack, having stopped to use the restroom to apply bag balm. We stayed in a big bunch, aided by the red lights on 15th and the West Valley highway, though Bill Alsup, Duane Wright and I were already at the bottom end. I caught up to Rick Haight. Rick volunteered on the PBP qualifier of 2007, and I joked about how I begged for coffee on the road to Whitney, and Kent Peterson, mindful of not supporting outside the controls, offered a "You are only a few miles out of the control!"... He was just getting warmed up and separated himself on the initial incline of Military Road. When I crested that hill, all I could see was The Kramer on his 'bent and Rick pulling away. The pack was gone.

I somehow found myself alone on the turn onto S 360th, and thought Duane would have trouble with this turn, and as I stopped to fix my dropped chain, I saw Duane fly by the turn. I tried waiting for him at the SR 99 intersection, but he didn't show up quickly enough for me. I caught up with Bill and passed a crouched Dan Jensen, fixing a flat. Bill stopped to take a picture of the bridge and I kept riding (having left the camera at home as a time-saving measure). The trail along the water was full of runners and even some cyclists getting their bikes off their cars. I got through the tunnel, and crested the little hill to the first control at Ruston, where I was met by Robin and Amy Pieper, and Charlie White and his son.I had about an hour in the bank. This was unexpected good news.

Ruston to Waterman Point

Amy and Robin filled my water bottles, and after a brief discussion on who was behind me, I left for the next control. The left turn onto Pearl put me in the company of a few "normal" bike riders, and on a mostly shoulder-less road with cars trying to get to the start of a run. I was off the madness quickly though and onto the Tacoma Narrows bridge which shares quite a few similarities with Vancouver's Lions Gate Bridge: Great views and Green in colour.

After a nice scenic stretch next to the water in a still sleepy Gig Harbour, I found myself on some of the roads that we rode on the Tahuya 200 last year, except in reverse. Orchard Road bit me a couple of times, the first bite forcing me to zig zag. The second bite was a bit less painful than the first, and reminded me of Port Gamble Road. After some more riding along the water, Dan Jensen caught up to me, and we rode maybe a mile together before we found ourselves face to face with Eric Vigoren, manning this control.

Waterman Point to Cosmopolis

After a few cookies, some nice catching up, and a visit to the porta-potty, I took off with Dan Jensen. He was clearly a faster ride than I was, and dropped me, but I passed him when he stopped to take a picture and then went to a bike shop. On Clifton Road we passed by Anderson Hill Road, and I could only think of thanking Albert for resisting the temptation to put us on that three-headed monster during daylight hours.

This section - Clifton Road - was a low point for me. There was a nagging uphill grade, a headwind and I found myself not going fast enough for my liking. However, Feigley Road changed all that. The descent was awesome but somewhat ruined by a pickup truck illegally backing uphill to make a left turn. I wasn't going down quite as fast as I usually go, and that saved me from just rear-ending the idiot.

The day was quite beautiful and a lot of cyclists were out riding their bikes. As I slowed down to make the left turn onto West Belfair, a couple of riders stopped on the road to ask me about the ride we were on. They knew we were together, and I did my best to give them a 2-minute summary of what we do. They were suitably impressed when I described the ride I was on. I gave them our website, but I think that a few little scraps of paper with our website written on it would be a brilliant idea. We parted with mutual wishes for a good ride.

This section of W Belfair was new to me, as I had only ridden it in the opposite direction on last years Tahuya 200. More flat riding, and as I went by Bear Creek - Dewatto Road, I uttered another round of thanks to Albert. It certainly looked like he spared us some major heartburn. After a brief jaunt on the high-traffic SR3, we were led to the chip-seal hell that is SR 106. I arrived at the Union Country Store, filled my water bottles and took off again, while Dan Jensen waited to get a sandwich.

Oh, I forgot to mention this. Since my DNF because of running out of food, I kept a solid supply of food on board. This was perhaps overkill, but I figured I needed the practice. I have cycled many a time on SR 106, but never on Purdy Cutoff road. It was a lovely stretch of road, and I greatly enjoyed the shady respite it offered. My shorts were rubbing me raw, and I stopped to put on some bag balm, and traffic got backed up behind me (I thought it was a low traffic road!). Dan passed me here.

After a steady slog uphill, I made the turn onto Dayton Airport Road, but the stretch to Matlock was new terrain. Mostly flat but the wind wasn't cooperating. I made good progress and just as I got into the Matlock store, I saw Dan Jensen pulling out. I didn't see any other rider until the overnight in Centralia. I refueled at the Matlock store and stayed about 10 minutes. Gatorade, some salted peanuts and more PowerBars. When I left the store I was met with an immediate gust of wind that told me that the wind wouldn't be doling out any favours today. It was put-your-head-down-and-slog time. Some clear cuts, some forests and distant mountains. Oh, and some "transformation centers" (Euphemism for "Pray the Gay away" ?). I also spotted what looked like Nuclear Power plant cooling towers a little before Monte-Elma Road.

The wind was nothing compared to the 4 mile stretch of chip-seal hell called Monte-Elma Road. In previous years, we have ridden this entire stretch, but today was only 4.2 miles, but I was still glad to get off it. I didn't think to stop at the Bakery in Montesano this time around. Blue Slough Road was another lovely stretch, completely shaded and totally traffic free. Lovely, indeed. I arrived at Cosmopolis with plenty of time to spare. I was greatly disappointed to see that Dan Jensen had already left. I was hoping to coax him into riding a slower pace with me at night.

Cosmopolis to Westport

A lot of brevets go through towns and villages instead of cities, and you do meet a different kind of humanity here. The Cosmopolis Chevron had a nice owner who promised to keep his store open an hour later than normal and I made it a point to refuel all my food and hydration stores here to show a small measure of gratitude for such kindness. I also informed him about Bill and Duane being behind me, and that he probably wouldn't have to stay open until 10. I left fairly quickly as I wanted to get to Westport before dark.

A nice wind-aided stretch followed where the only source of trouble was the shoulder-less bridges. However, these were dispatched with aplomb, and I found myself at Westport fairly quickly.

Westport to Rainbow Falls State Park

I had promised myself a bit of a breather here, but considering the wind, I took off in about 10 minutes after filling up on water and food, and using the restroom. I knew that darkness would fall on this stretch, so I wore my reflective ankle bands, but left my jacket off. I had brought leg warmers, but it looked like that would be overkill. The shoulder was filled with debris and a few miles out of Westport I started to ride on the main road, and moved into the shoulder only when I spied a car in my helmet mirror.

To avoid psyching myself out over the distance to the overnight control, I folded the route sheet to the Raymond turn, and focused on getting my butt to Raymond. The Peninsula is a great place to ride. Mostly flat, little traffic and features the soft sounds of waves crashing on the beach. I made good time, but about two-thirds of the way to Raymond, I stopped to don my jacket and reflective vest. I also turned on my E-delux light, a birthday gift from my wife.

What a difference this light made!! It is a totally awesome light. The E6 has a yellowish light, but the E-delux throws a white light. I had it mounted on my front rack braze-on, and though there was some wheel shadow, the light was simply superb. Pricey, but good. It light up at far lower speeds than the E6 and features a standlight, which is a great addition.

I got to Raymond in good time, and since I was ok in terms of food and water, didn't bother to ride into town for either of those necessities. I had trouble getting the left turn light onto SR6 to trigger and used the pedestrian sign to get it to turn on. I was starting to feel a bit tired a few miles out of Raymond, but kept on, hoping I would see a grocery store where I could get some coffee. Having woken up at 4a to catch a ride with Duane, I was starting to feel a bit sleepy, and after about 15 miles, I saw a sign for a tavern in Lebam, and figuring I'd take a chance, I entered. A little apprehensively, I admit.

There were only two patrons (read: drunks) there, but the bartender was a friendly sort. They already knew about what we were doing, so I guessed that other riders must have stopped here for refreshments. They were full of conversation: "You have to ride to Centralia, huh? That's a far ways away", one quipped, while the other filled me up on the long and steep climb ahead of me in the next three to four miles. Not to be outdone, the first one made comments about bears, mountain lions and drunks ("like myself", he said). I never got the impression that they were trying to scare me, just filling me in on the road ahead. :)

I got Coffee with some milk and sugar and after making quick work of it, I got up to pay, but was told that the coffee was on the house. Awesome! I thanked the patrons, and the bartender and made my way out, refreshed. It was only a 10 minute stop, but it was a very welcome stop. Now fully awake (those months of drinking decaf now suddenly seeming worthwhile), I continued on. I half-hoped Bill or Duane would catch up to me, but that didn't happen. The roads were traffic free and I made excellent time, even climbing hard amid a very soft rain and enjoying the descent. I made the left turn onto Pe Ell, and only then did fold the route sheet all the way to the Centralia Control. When I got to Rainbow Falls state park, I saw a red blinky and turned left into the park looking for Paul.

I didn't find Paul. The time was now 2.05a. I had made good time, and with any luck I'd get my three hours of sleep tonight. I rode all over the park, but it looked purely residential. I started yelling "Paul, Paul", in the vain hopes that they might hear me. I met a trucker who told me that they were on a turn next to where the bridge was washed out. So, I made my way out of the park and onto a second road, where disaster struck.

I was met by three barking dogs, the smallest of which went straight for my ankle. It was too late when I realized what the stupid thing was about to do, but I had the presence of mind to kick out and off it went whining. I fought off the other two with my front wheel, and as the clearly inebriated owners fought to maintain control of their dogs, I fought with the dogs to stop them from mistaking me for food.

Finally order was restored, and I asked for help in the form of a phone call. One of the family members actually drove out to go see where the control was. (I didn't realize this). To say I was incensed at this point would be a severe understatement. My inability to find the control, the dogs, the wasted half hour all added up. I called Albert to ask about the control, but I used an F-word "adjective" to describe the control (I apologized to Albert at the finish). Albert didn't know where it was, and referred to Peter, who tried to calm me by telling me that getting mad wasn't productive. He asked me to continue on SR 6 and that I would find it. I thanked the couple and left, and a few hundred yards down the road, I was met by a girl who slowed down to tell me that "they" were setup a mile or two down the road. I thanked her and kept riding.

I got to the Rainbow Falls Control at 2.45a, about 35 minutes behind schedule.

Rainbow Falls Control to Centralia

I was met by a smiling Paul Johnson, Sheila Johnson and John Vincent. I was still seething from my lost time, and after a few minutes of ranting and raving, and poor Paul apologizing profusely, I sat down and was treated to a great array of Vegetarian food (excellent Szechuan Noodles). John took my bike, Sheila gave me food and drink, and Paul fought with Raccoons, that were trying to get their hands on some randonneur goodies.

After some pleasant conversation (I stopped being an a-hole), I left around 3a. I told them that Bill and Duane were behind me, and that I hadn't seen them for well over 200 miles. I didn't even know if they were still riding at this point. I was now feeling the effects of the 230-odd miles that I had ridden, but the last few miles went by without incident. I do remember riding by Curtis Hill Road and thanking Albert yet again.

I got to Centralia at 4.37a and was met by Peter Beeson, and some others getting ready to leave. Peter took my bike and escorted me to my room.

Day 2, 7:20a: Centralia to Morton

I told them I was good on food, and after asking for a 645a wake up call, I brushed my teeth, showered, and hit the sack at 4.45a. Yes, 8 minutes. The next instant Peter was waking me up. I brushed my teeth, changed into bike clothing and took off around 7.10am, but had to turn back when I got confused by the route sheet. Peter set me straight, and I rode on worried about the measly 2 hour buffer I had.

I had ridden Centralia-Alpha road in the other direction with Peg and Allison in 2007. It wasn't that terrible, but then I was in great shape that year. This year would be payback. I saw Matt Dalton and another rider fiddling with their bikes at the base of the initial climb, but they started back up, and disappeared around the turn, before I could get to them. I slowly climbed the initial leg, and as it flattened out, I saw Peg down the hill behind me.

She caught up to me on one of the steep sections, and when I hit the top. she was gone. I just slogged through this section. I knew I would be losing time, and I didn't care. I just wanted to make the Morton control on time and I would see what I could do after that. SR 508 was another hard stretch. I didn't have energy and I started stopping to eat my PowerBars. Apart from one nasty climb SR 508 was all right, but my legs weren't. It was just that the 250 miles I had ridden the previous day were getting to me. I took frequent breaks to adjust clothing and eat.

When I am tired, I try and ways to introduce some humour into my ride. One such instance was when I saw a mailbox with the name Studhalter on it. I don't know if you know my sense of humour but it leans towards the juvenile. My immediate reaction: that last name would be a death sentence to a woman. She might as well have been called Ugly. I know this is not funny now, but for some weird reason, it offered me comic relief for a few miles. Eventually SR 508 flattened out and I was riding next to a nice river, and arriving into Morton. I saw Peg leaving the control. She would be the last rider I saw on the ride. I wish I had ridden a bit fast and left with her, but it was too late.

Morton to Enumclaw

I had about 3 hours in the bank when I got into Morton. Feeling tired despite having taken many a breather everywhere I decided to stay about 15 minutes. I bought some Powerade, some salted Cashew nuts, Sprite, more PowerBars and some jojos. The jojos were very poorly made, but I still ate them knowing that there would be some more climbing. I used the restroom, chatted with the friendly clerk, and rested my head on the table.

I filled the Powerade in my water bottle and left Morton on SR7 with a nice crosswind. Shortly after the control, the road tilted up, and traffic was pretty high. The jojos I ate gave me horrible heartburn, and I didn't like this section as a result. The shoulder was inadequate, and I slowly made my way up the climb. I stopped a few times to "adore the scenery". I got to Summit Cr at 1700+ feet, and then had a nice descent into Elbe.

I tried to stop at the bar, but it was overrun by bikers (the motorized kind). One of them commented "So, you made it here all the way from Canada, eh?", looking at my BC Randonneurs jersey. I left the area before they started "joking" more. The wind was now in my face, but Alder Cutoff saved me from the wind, and threw me onto a hill, with cars buzzing by. There was a fantastic downhill on SR 161, and we turned onto Orville Road.

Now, I had great dreams for Orville Road. I was hoping it would be a quiet road with no traffic and lots of views of Lake Kapowsin and Lake Ohop. I stopped to eat off the side of the road, and was met by the rudest honk off a guy driving a huge pickup. He gave me the "get moving sign", but all he had to to was go around me. When I motioned for him to go around me, he threw up his arms in disgust. I wasn't very happy with this, and said "hey", and threw up my arms in disgust. He drove a few feet away and then stopped to backup, but there were other cars behind him, and he just took off. I kept a wary eye out for him.

Pickups, pickups, and more pickups. The surface was not the greatest either, and it had the kind of short choppy lumps that were pretty annoying. My heartburn showed no sign of abating, but my appetite was still there. The grades on some of the gravel roads that led off of Orville Road were unreal. I stopped to admire as an SUV drove down one of those inclines, and progress was slow. It seemed like some sleep would help, but there was nowhere I could stop and nap.

The right turn to stay on Orville Road helped the quality of the people on it. I stopped to admire another nice view before a descent (or I may be making this up). After a few miles I stumbled upon some grass by the side of the road (near an entrance to an RV Park), and napped for a good 20 minutes. My aim was twofold: to allow Bill Alsup to catchup, and get some rest. The constant steady stream of traffic was my way of making sure I didn't sleep for a few hours.

Of all the signs you want to see in this world, "Volcano Evacuation Route" is not what you want to see at the end of a 600k. But my sleep had refreshed me, and though I wouldn't say I powered up the hill, I got there in good time. My mother called to talk. Talking to her was refreshing, even if she didn't understand why I was doing it. I turned left on to familiar roads now, having done the Redmond - Carbon Glacier only last month. The small climb just past Buckley was a kicker, but I arrived at the Enumclaw Control with plenty of time to spare.

Enumclaw to the Finish

I bought some Sprite, some salted cashew nuts, and a couple of PowerBars, and I knew that I would finish in under 37 hours. That felt good. I helped a woman operate the gas pump (she didn't know how to get that thing started). I left after about 15 minutes. The next section was completely known, except the little stretch past Main Street in Auburn (Leschi - Auburn - Leschi permanent). As I rode up the last little incline, my bike suddently downshifted, and the chain fell off, but only after making an awful noise. I stopped to put the chain back on, but I found that the chain had wedged itself between the chainstay and the small chainring. This was not good. I knew there was a killer descent onto Green Valley Road, and I could basically walk my way to the finish in under the time limits.

I tried doing all kinds of things, jiggling it, trying brute-force, and finessing it. Nothing worked. I flipped my bike over and started to work on getting the chain off, when a car pulled over and asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere. He was a cyclist himself, and when I told him about the ride, he immediately parked his car, and came over to help. We discussed our options, and he said he didn't haveto tools to get the chain off. I replied that I did, and he offered to get the thing off. After what seemed like 10 minutes of jiggling, he finally pulled it off! He was my saviour! And, I didn't even get his name.

I thanked him profusely, and he didn't even complain about having to work on a dirty chain! I wasted about 30 minutes in the process. Oh well. I knew that the finish was less than an hours ride away. The descent to 212th and then onto Green Valley Road was awesome. Green Valley Road was uneventful, but this was the first time I rode in this direction. It felt completely different. I felt strong on the bike, and soon I was cruising past Main Street and onto heavily trafficked roads. I could finally relax. I was going to make it. It is possible to finish a 600 without a 400. I finished in 37:39.

Albert was there at the hotel lobby. The room had Beer, Pizza and snacks. I shoved my face with whatever I could get my hands on, and then called my wife to let her know that I finished. Albert told me that Duane had decide to end his ride someplace near Cosmopolis, and decided to get a room in Aberdeen. I met Karel from Montana. As I was getting ready to hit the showers, Bill finished. He was only 20 minutes behind me, but he had really hammered to the finish. He had a lot of off the bike time that really added up. Karel and I discussed some permanent options that he could do if he wanted to try for an R-12. The Colbert-Metaline falls permanent (seldom ridden) was something he expressed some interest in, but it isn't rideable in the winter. Talking to him made me realize how lucky we all are to have such a living thriving randonneuring community right at our doorstep. And our weather. I know we love to complain, but atleast we can do 200's in the winter. Montanans cannot.

Thanks to all the wonderful volunteers on this ride. The Rainbow Falls control was excellent and so was the support at the overnight. It was a great 600. And it most certainly was NOT flat.

Epilogue

Duane had sent word that he would like me to call him, and when I did, he offered to come and get me. I thought his car was still in Auburn and so he was coming down with his friend to come and get his car. I showered and waited for Duane, and talked with Karel. When I left the hotel, I found out that Duane had driven down just to get me. It turns out that Duane had already retrived his car in the morning, and was just offering to come and pick me up. Duane's Nice!

Where have all the cars gone?!

Me, eating at the finish: "I don't think I have ever ridden a course with so little traffic!".

Ron Himschoot: "Yeah, I think so too. This was like some sections of Last Chance!".

Rick Blacker: "That was the idea".

A hearty dose of thanks go to the organizers, the volunteers who braved the rain and the cold to help us on our way, and the creators of this route. The secret controle in the morning had great goodies, as did the controle atop Tono Road, staffed by Jane and Emily (the wives of two riders), and John Vincent. Mike Richeson standing at the corner on the last informational controle was a comforting sight. Many thanks to all.

Heeding the warnings for good lights, I switched out the bulb on my E6, and it made a huge difference on some of the gravel sections. One car even honked at me to lower the beam a little bit (before the Mike Richeson Info Controle). I carried two Biscottis and a ZipLoc bag of Sustained Energy. I ate one of the biscotti's on the drive there :)

If you didn't get to do PBP last year, all you had to do was show up at the Spring 300k. We got everything you got in France, the wind, the rain, the waterlogged feet, but without the language barrier, adoring crowds, ham baguettes and pain au chocolats. A fourth of that distance at a tenth the price, this was an offer I could not refuse. So I planned to ride it, while fully realizing that the organizer combination of Blacker and Sprague meant only one thing: hills. I always appreciate a good training effect in Spring, the whining was kept to an absolute minimum. And yes, the hills were plentiful, and came often. The number of roads where I saw more than 5 cars on one stretch could be counted on one hand. Truly a great route.

I met a lot of the regulars for the first time this year - having finished the Greg Cox 200 on the pre-ride- and quite a few new faces. No rain at the start, and Ron Himschoot, ever the purveyor of good news, told me that there was a 70% chance of rain after 11a, which meant I had about 4 hours to finish the course in, if I wanted to stay dry. As the current President would say, "Mission accomplished!".

After the pre-ride announcements, we were off and I was oh-so-ahead of everybody else for a while, but then reality set in and was quickly passed on the first few lumps on South Bay Road. Bob Lagasca introduced himself, and rode with me for a few minutes. He does quite a few permanents, and it was good to put a face to a name. The first few miles featured some rollers, and the lovely Barbara Blacker was there shooting pictures of the riders, and offering encouragement. We hit the first controle, and made quick work of it.

After more rollers, I stopped at a gas station just before Downtown Olympia, to buy some water and a Snickers Bar. I usually eat on the go, and as I was finding a place to dispose my wrapper, Ron Himschoot passed by, and after a brief conversation he pulled away on the Lakeridge climb. There was a secret controle somewhere before Porter, but though I can see it in my head, I am writing this too late, and I don't remember the street it was on. Rick Blacker was there, along with Jane and Emily, and they signed my card, and even filled my water bottles. Top notch support! There was an excellent assortment of food, and I ate a cookie before leaving.

Shortly after a left turn, I saw a group of 4 folks were pulled over on the side of the road, and one person seemed like he was fixing a flat. I made sure they were ok, and kept on. It was not the last time I would see them pulled over. :) They passed me in short order on Bordeaux Road, which I just loved. It felt like a gentle uphill, with great scenery. I would have completely missed the D-Line turn, had I not seen John Vincent driving downhill, at the intersection. I stopped to chat, and he warned me that D-Line road was "Gut Check Time". I would have done some bonus miles had he not warned me. I chatted with him for a while, and then took off. I was in my lowest gear pretty soon, but the climb itself was not very long. I paused at the top to make sure I didn't plummet down the wrong road, but another rider came up and stopped and we compared notes. I rode on, while he waited for another buddy.

The descent on D-Line road was wonderful and one of the highlights of this ride. No traffic, and it wound through forested land, with a gentle river running right by it. The pavement was not the best I have ever seen, but it was excellent riding. The trees were blooming, a river flowed nearby, and the weather was perfect. One particularly beautiful stretch is captured by Barbara Blacker:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/seattlerando/2393044217/in/set-72157604417052597/

A beautiful downhill, and another Barbara sighting later, I made the turn onto 12, and had the first - and last - tailwind of the day. I saw the same group of 4 riders (whom I shall affectionately name the Flat Four) pulled over just before the Porter Creek Controle, fixing a flat, I think.

The tailwind didn't last for very long, and I was at the Porter Creek Grocery Store. The lovely Cindi Holmstrom was there: I hadn't seen her since the 2006 Dan Turner 300k, and it was good to meet old acquaintances. She took off fairly quickly though. I refuelled and was ready to take off when the Flat Four rolled in. Apparently one of the riders had trouble with a fender (Honjo), and they had stopped to fix that.

I left the Porter Creek controle, and the first drops of liquid sunshine hit me. A rider was pulled over trying to don his rain gear, and I should have taken that cue to put on my helmet cover, but I kept on. The wind was now in our face, and the chipseal didn't help matters much. In a matter of a few hundred yards, it started raining in earnest. Did I stop then? No. I kept on. There was a spectacular house fire on this road just before the turn to Garrard Creek. I wanted to take a picture, but then decided I didn't want to make a spectacle of somebody else's misery. Turns out it was just a fire drill. The name South Bank Road told me that SIR Member (currently in hiding) Paul Johnson's (aka Dr Codfish) house was not very far from here, and I was wondering about him before the right turn onto Garrard Creek Road. Two riders were pulled over, and I rode with them for a while. It turns out that his house was only a mile away from the turn onto Garrard Creek Road. :(

I don't even remember now if Garrard Creek road was hilly, but I think it had chipseal. I do remember Manners Road. Immediately after the right turn we started climbing, and the climbing was relentless. A farmer out in his farm, waved to me. I remember that stretch as being hilly, rainy and cold. My "waterproof" gloves had now let some water in, and my fingers were waterlogged. Some of the descents on Manners Road were intense, with the rain pelting my face. I rode a little with Eamon Stanley, who warned me about Jan Heine's plans for the fall 600k (6 passes over Hwy 20), and said he was planning to ride it. We stopped at the store near the end of Bunker Creek Road to get some food and water, as I started feeling a little low on energy.

We made the turn onto SR 6, and saw traffic for the first time today. I kid you not: this was the first time I saw 5 cars together since the start. I think the low traffic really made this an awesome route. It is worth registering this ride as a permanent, I think. Geoff, are you paying attention? :)

John Vincent had warned me about Curtis Hill Road. This is also where Steve Hameister breathed his last on last years 300k, shortly before PBP. The hill just looks like a wall, and Eamon effortlessly pulled away. I plodded, plodded and plodded, and the nadir was seeing 4kmph on my now-suddenly-functioning bike computer. It had been puttering on and off throughout the day, and it picked this exact hill to tell me that I stink. Thanks Cateye!

I eventually made it to the top of this road, and bombed down the other side to Boistfort Road. The market looked like it was in renovation, or I might have stopped there for a little break. This hill was a toughie. The 16 or so miles on Boistfort road was my low point for the day. I hated the chipseal, hated the weather, hated the wind, hated my speed. But luckily I clued in on this early, and pretty much knew I just had to get through it. The route sheet mentions Camels, but the only Camels I saw were inside the J&S Grocery Store (which was also a controle on last years Fleche). I loved SR 506. It was a wonderful little stretch dotted by farms and beautifully coloured homes, with fantastic architecture.

I bought some food and water at the controle, and finally put on my helmet cover and rain pants. I had ridden without donning these for the better part of 61 miles. Not very smart. The Flat Four rolled in just as I was heading out. They mentioned that they had to dump his Honjo fender because they got tired of fixing it and lugging it around when they could not. Jan Heine, our expert equipment note taker might want to make a note!

The next few stretches were also rolling, but somehow my riding picked up right after I left the controle. The rollers didn't weigh me down, and I realized that I knew some of these roads (from the Fleche). When I got to the Main Street Food Mart in Chehalis, it was late evening, and the light was starting to look dim. This was also the other spot where I saw more than 5 cars in one stretch.

I refilled my food stores. After a hot chocolate, some Snickers, some Gatorade, I left. The woman at the controle was very helpful and encouraging, and gave me some zipties to hold my helmet light in place. I think Dan and Patti Austad pulled in just before I left. I also dorked up here, putting on my leg bands and my vest. A beautiful ride past the Steam plant, and a short climb up Tono Road brought me to the most wonderful sight of the ride: a bunch of selfless volunteers, sitting under a canopy awaiting the arrival of the next rider: mine was greeted with hooting and hollering! John Vincent, Jane, Emily, and another gentleman helped me the instant I came in. John took my bike, and the women pampered me with food and encouragement. It is here that I found out that Jane and Emily were the wives of two of the Flat Four. I thanked them mightily, had some hot chocolate, some Peanut Butter and Jelly Bagels, and a cookie, and took off into the night. Comfort, on such events and especially in adverse conditions, is to be partaken in little amounts: too much of it, and you either end up wasting a lot of time or losing sight of the goal completely.

The women warned me again about a sharp turn, and I was off. About a mile downhill, I heard my helmet cover fly off into the darkness. DRAT! I pulled over, and looked hither and thither, but no sign of my helmet cover. I started riding uphill looking for it, and I could not find it. I felt pretty sad that I had lost my nice rain cover. I resigned myself thinking I would ask John Vincent to come looking for it for me, and rode on. After about a mile, I stopped, took off my gloves and felt the top of my helmet. And there was my faithful helmet cover. I have heard of bad brains at rides longer than 600k, but this was a first and a new low. :)

I came upon a smiling Mike Richeson at the informational control; the answer was fairly easy to guess. Seeing him was reassuring, and I committed the information to memory, and headed out. It started raining a tad heavily now and I could hear the rain drops hit my helmet cover with alarming intensity.

Fairly deep gravel marked the trail, and I walked to the pavement, not wanting to risk my noggin. Careful riding ensure that I made the easily missed left turn to Chehalis-Western Trail. 10 miles of flat land bliss followed. After exiting the trail, I could not find the connection to continue on to the trail, so I rode back up a short steep hill, back the way I came to find out if I spaced out. I had not. Under the trestle (new word learned!) I went, and saw the left turn, and continued on.

This stretch saw the worst of the rain of the entire ride. It poured mercilessly down, and all the way through the streets of Lacey. I arrived at the finish, completing the ride in 17:54. I had grand plans of finishing in 16 hours and change, but the rain had me spending more time at the controls than necessary. Rick and Barbara Blacker, James Sprague, and Jane and Emily were there, along with Ron Himschoot, who had showered. Over great food (Vegetarian Pizza with Cashew nuts, and cookies) we talked about the ride, and the lack of traffic, and the hills, and Steve Hameister. A nice hot shower made me a new man. The Flat Four finished, a testament to their perseverance. I think Eamon finished a touch behind me, and I don't know where I passed him.

I should have stayed and napped and then left in the morning, but I chose to drive home not knowing the effect of tiredness. I nodded off a couple of times, before good sense kicked in, and I napped for an hour at a gas station, and then took off for home. Not a mistake I will repeat, ever (meaning, please don't yell at me for this!).

A sneak peek at the 200k brevet.

Many a theory has been proposed about why 218th Ave is named the way it is... I spent the better part of 12 minutes climbing this little nugget of a hill and I came up with a few....

* The number of times you will swear at Greg Cox (unoriginal)
* The number of times I had to stop before I got to the top in 2006 (too inaccurate)
* The number of people who have died on this climb. (too dramatic)
* Distance in kilometers you will suffer AFTER you finish climbing this hill (perfect).

... and so on. If you do not know what I am talking about, next Saturday is a fine way to find out.

A fun bunch of randonneurs rode the SIR 200k pre-ride yesterday and lived to tell the tale. We met at the Cox residence and took off shortly after 7a. Since we started from the house, we got to climb an extra hill to the start as warmup. I DNF'd on this ride last year because I left an hour late and missed the first control by 12 minutes. That one stung! This time I arranged to be there on time, and leave on time, and yes, I did make all the controls on time.

We kept together until the little climb up Reith Road, except Mark who stopped to pick up a detached taillight (the tracks on 240th are deep). The sky looked ominous, but it was not raining quite yet. The weather forecast for today had varied so wildly that I brought everything, except a pair of gloves; I borrowed some from the host, and the spent the next 200k worrying about accidentally wiping my nose on my gloves (I didn't). We got some sprinkles on Dash Point road, but nothing to get us wet. Mark caught me just before the Town Center Foods control, telling me very kindly that I need not worry about taking the bus home, as he was not at his finest (ha!).

The speed at which this group of randonneurs cleared this control was impressive. I figured the others had gotten in a little earlier than Mark and I, but Mark got in, bought some Nesquick Chocolate Milk and took off, all in the matter of 3 minutes. I did the same, and the only people behind me were the Nussbaums. They of course caught me soon after the turn after I5, and dropped me on Green Valley Road, an idyllic stretch until you hit that climb up to Black Diamond. The climb lasted forever, but the Nussbaums proved hard to catch. I caught them just before the turn onto Highway 169, but they got ahead of me again just before the bakery.

Black Diamond Bakery is situated perfectly and has many redeeming qualities, chief among them being the BAKERY. I bought myself a Blueberry Strudel and a cookie, and proceeded to wolf them down as quickly as I could, but I still could not latch onto the group as they left. The food was great though I had to turn down Peter McKay's offer of free coffee. My sensitive stomach needed some babysitting (no Milk, only Soy Milk). I took off my jacket here as it had warmed up considerably.

Black Diamond represents a kind of transition point; from more houses to more open spaces, and far less traffic. After Black Diamond Ravensdale Road, the houses thin out and you get more fields and farms, which is a welcome change. It was good to be in this part of the world again. The turn onto the highway was the end of the fun though, and I suspect I was going through a micro bonk, not a good thing when you are faced with the climb to Mud Mountain Dam(n) Road. I suffered on this climb, and was the low point of the ride for me. In 2006, I averaged about 12kmph to Greenwater, but this year I was faster and it was mostly fun heading to Greenwater, with nice scenery and clear skies, even if the clearcuts were an eyesore. The river was beautiful and is sure to take your mind off the riding. I was filled with negative thoughts, and it got cold on this stretch. I saw the gang returning: Ward Beebe 10 miles ahead of me. But Mark and his group was only 4 miles ahead of me, and the Nussbaums had just left Greenwater.

I sat down to have some Gatorade and a Pay-day bar, and then took off. Bolstered by the nutrition, I pretty much hammered all the way to the top of Mud Mountain. This was great fun, and the reason why we do these rides. No need to get down on oneself. This is my 5th year randonneuring, and I still have not learned to recognize my low points. The descent on Mud Mountain Dam Road is exhilarating, but the curvy nature takes away the potential to bomb down without a care. There was some gravel too, and I was a bit more cautious. The rest of the riding to the control is all flat, and I got there a shade after 3.30, I think. The gang had all left.

I left almost immediately, filling my water bottles with Gatorade and munching on half a PayDay bar. It was only 20 miles to the finish, but I knew that a behemoth lay between me and the finish: 218th. But I also remembered two exhilarating descents, and sure enough, the descents on Whitney Hill Road and 212th were great fun.

The first part of 218th is flat, but right after that little bridge, the climb begins in earnest. I was at the lowest gear, but shifted up every once in a while to stand and "muscle" my way over. My admiration for people like Bob Brudvik (who rode today on Fixed/SS), increases by the day. I did make it to the top, and shortly after the turn I tried to shift to the big ring and my front shifter broke. Fantastic. just what I wanted! Thankfully it didn't break on 218th.

I had fantasized about finishing near 10 hours, but with the chain rubbing repeatedly against the cage, my speed tanked. I also didn't want to stand and pedal in case the darn thing completely gave away. The climb up to Greg's house was a little painful, but short. I finished in little over 10h 30m. A fine ride, on a fine day.

Ralph and Carol had bought some brownies, and they were delicious. We shot the breeze a little with Mark and Greg reminiscing about their Glacier 1000k ride last year. Mark outlined plans for the Fall 1000k, and it was scary. Let me put it this way: the Cascade 1000k will be easier than the fall 1000k. Eek!

Riders Greg Cox, Bill Dussler, Ward Beebe, Bob Brudvik, Ralph and Carol Nussbaum, Peter McKay, Mark Thomas, Rick Haight and myself.