Lost and Found

The day dawned clear and unlike last week's freezing temperatures at the start of the Bellingham 200K, yesterday's Seattle International Randonneurs' Spring 300K started an hour earlier and 12 degrees warmer. I'd discovered we were out of my usual pre-ride breakfast food, Quaker's Old Fashioned Oats, and had to settle for 2 eggs and two slices of toast with a glass of apple juice for my breakfast. PLUS, we were out of bananas. When I got to U-Village, fortunately, the organizers had some pastries, bananas and fresh Starbucks Coffee. One person mentioned that they barely recognized me as I didn't have a doughnut in my hand, and another friend suggested I eat one of the donuts. I told them I'd been banished from doughnut consumption by a certain somebody who discovered I'd gained 6 pounds in less than 3 months. They pointed out that there was a HALF of a doughnut - a glazed old fashioned, yet. Well, that's not really a doughnut.



With 2 eggs, toast, apple juice, a triple shot espresso, a banana, a half of a doughnut and a cup of Starbucks coffee heavily laced with cream and sugar to cover up the burnt taste, I felt pretty ready to go, from a caloric standpoint.

About 80 of us showed up, and at 6:00 am sharp the organizers sounded the imaginary starter's pistol and we were out of the starting gate like so many race horses in the Kentucky Derby, each of us in our brightly colored jockey outfits, albeit mostly in bright blue and white for some reason. There seems to always be a preponderance of Seattle Randonneur wool jerseys on these brevets.

I set a new personal best for myself, staying glued to the rear wheel of Jan Heine and another rider for a full 3 blocks before they started to put distance between themselves and me. As we headed up the hill on 25th, I could hear Ralph Nussbaum chugging like a steam engine up behind me and as he passed by, he pointed out that it was going to be a mighty long day, since he'd done a 300K just a couple days ago. I heard him repeat this to a few other riders as they drifted farther and farther forward, leaving me in their wake. I looked behind me and all the way down the hill all I could see was the bobbing and weaving of hundreds of bluish white lights, some low and some high, weaving back and forth like so many coal miners headed down into the shaft, as they exchanged pleasantries with each other and scoped out their surroundings.

Eventually, I settled into a group of 15 or so riders to the first control, with Mark Roehrig and Peter Rankin setting a fast but not unreasonable pace. Quickly rolling through the checkpoint and getting my brevet card signed, I rolled on and soft pedaled a bit, waiting for a few of these big dogs to catch up to me. As soon as they did, I locked on again and on we went. The route followed the Burke Gilman and Sammamish River trails out to and then through Marymoor Park, and the sun was just rising over the Cascades as Mark led us through the park.



I knew the fun was just beginning, as I was in a group of 6 or 7 by this time, and we were rapidly bearing down on a group of about 20 riders that included Ralph, Bob Brudvik and a few others I recognized but can't recall after so much passage of time. As we hit the back of the line, Mark started to pull through on the left and I thought he was heading straight on by, but he pulled up next to one of the other riders and started up a conversation, so I just sat on his wheel and enjoyed working at about half the effort I normally would need to keep the 22 mph pace we were hitting heading down E. Lake Sammamish. Then came the turn up Louis Thompson Road, a nice little 8% - 12% 1-mile climb to test the morning legs. I was doing ok and keeping with the group. I've done this hill before - on a tandem with Megan, even - but started to think it is a long, long day and I don't want to cook my legs all on the first hill, so decided to drop to my little ring. As I did so, I dropped my chain. When I did, I got a kind of a jolt up through my right hip as I was on the right side downtsroke at the time. I didn't think much at the time about it. Just got off, got the chain back on and continued on to the first control.

I have a bit of a routine for managing my gear, and when I start out, I know the things I might need early on, so put them at the top of the bag. At the control, I will shuffle stuff as my needs change throughout the day. The organizers had a very nice rest stop set up for us, complete with Vietnamese sandwiches - tofu and jalapeno - along with lots of fresh fruit, some pastries, assorted snack food and YEP, more Starbucks Coffee. I downed a cup of coffee, grabbed 2 bananas, ate one, stuffed the other in my rear pocket and was in the middle of re-adjusting stuff when I got distracted by someone talking about those sandwiches. Somehow, the words 8:00 am, tofu and jalapeno all used in the same sentence were just too much for my pea-sized brain to manage. I got distracted by it all, and then saw someone leaving that I wanted to see if I could catch up to.



Back on the road, I caught up to and rode along with Barry Chase for a little bit, until we were overtaken by Don and Elaine Jameson who had Rick Blacker and someone else in tow. The six of us rode together for a while until the turn off to Ames Lake Road and with Don and Elaine and their gang climbing like mountain goats, I was left behind one more time. Seems to be an emerging pattern. This was when I noticed I seemed to have a little bit of chafing action going on and made a mental note to apply a bit of WD-40 or A&D ointment to the affected region the next time I stopped. Little did I know that I'd be rolling along at a nice moderate 16 mph enjoying the morning scenery, rolling past some of my favorite barns and get overtaken by Christopher Vaughn Gay, Robert Higdon and a couple other guys, with my buddy Chris Heg hanging to their rear wheel like a crawdad on a slab of bacon rind.



I locked on and off we went, rolling along, gathering in a few more riders as we went. As we were turning on to Crescent Lake Road, a gang of racing folks passed by us, and for a couple miles I wasn't sure who was us and who was them. If everybody would just wear the same color jersey so we could tell who was who it would help. Fortunately, there was one young woman with the race team who was dressed in very nice black and white shorts with a bright red dot on each, uh, well, er, side. I think I did an admirable job of not becoming too awfully mesmerized by the rythmic motion of those red dots bouncing side to side, up and down, and knew that at least SHE wasn't one of us so I couldn't draft off of her. Deeply saddened, I had to let them ride off into the morning sun and stick with my own kind.

Before I knew it, we were at the infamous Ben Howard Road. Not to say that I don't ENJOY riding that road, there is just this one little wrinkle. Of course that wrinkle comes in the form of a 3/4 mile climb that ranges from 11% - 16% and if there were any remnants of eggs, toast, banana, apple juice and coffee left in my scrawny little carcass, by the time I arrived at the top of that hill, it was gone. With about 60 miles under my tush, I realized I needed some calories, and pretty quickly.

I jumped on the pedals and hammered as hard as I could, downing two Honey Stinger gel pouches to get me the final 5 miles into the control.

When I arrived, I was welcomed into the parking lot by Geoff Swarts. Now, back in December, Geoff pulled a secret control on me when I was out doing a solo 100K ride that ended on Mercer Island. The funny part of that whole scenario was that I almost missed it. Fortunately, I make a point of adhering strictly to routes (ever since my little Mt. Loop Highway faux pas when I put my permanents coordinators "in a spot of bother", as Narayan so eloquently put it) and then a few weeks ago, when I forgot to get a receipt at one of the controls, Geoff generously allowed me to gain completion credit. It only took a bit of bribery, promises to mow his lawn every week for the next year and there were a couple other promises I've forgotten. Hopefully, he has too. But I do digress.

So here was Geoff standing in the middle of the parking lot. 15 riders all zoom in and start surrounding him. He agrees to sign their brevet card, all the while saying he really wasn't supposed to be doing that. So I figure I'll beat the crowd, park my bike on the building and start going through my bag looking for my brevet card. It isn't where I always put it. It also isn't in any of the other places where I occasionally put it when I don't always put it where I always put it. It isn't with my car keys. It isn't with my banana (damn! I forgot I had that.) It isn't with my wallet, my cell phone, my camera, my handkerchief, my spare tubes. It isn't with my sunglasses, my chain lube, my multi-tool and my spare route sheet. It isn't in my vest (which I hadn't worn - how could it be there?) or in the pocket of my yellow morning shell.

Geoff hollers over at me and asks me if I want him to sign my card. Well, I wouldn't mind but I seem to not be able to find it. "Wow, that's really too bad. How are you going to finish the ride without a brevet card?" By now, I see the twinkle and smartie pants little grin. "YOU have my card?"

"Well, that and a few other things."

I follow him over to his car. Inside, he has a "doggie duty" bag, dark green. FULL of stuff. Like one of my short fingered gloves, my SIR reflective sash, my skull cap, and, wait! MY BREVET CARD!!! Thank you Geoff.




Once I had my card signed, I was off in search of more calories. All I could find that sounded good was a big super-sized Snickers Bar. I refilled my bottles with another portion of Chocolate Spiz, downed the banana, half the Snickers and was ready to get on the way. Chris had a few things left to load up, though, so I watched a few other riders head out and figured I'd rather ride with him, since we've been doing so much together, so sorta stood there shifting from foot to foot while he methodically placed everything very carefully back into his bag, zipped up, replaced his helmet, put on his glasses, adjusted his crotch, scratched everything that needed scratching and said with his totally infectious smile, "I think I'm ready.

And that's when it happened.

As I swung my right leg over the top bar, I felt a huge stinging pain. It started from just above the knee and felt like someone had filled a hypodermic syringe full of boiling fat out of the doughnut fryer and injected it right up through the hip and into my brain. I thought I didn't much like that feeling, and hoped it was momentary. It wasn't. As we rolled out onto Highway 2, I told Chris what had happened, and said my day might be over. I wanted to keep pushing on, but was afraid that my brevet card wasn't the only thing I'd lost.

At first, it was just a little bit of unfinished business that pushed me on. The last time I rode up Reiner Road was on the 400K two years ago, and I walked a stretch of it. I'll be darned if I'm going to be defeated this time. I did a lot of standing, since it hurt a lot less to stand and pedal on that long, steep climb than it did to sit and spin. At the top of the hill, Mark Thomas was standing either on top of his car or on top of a rock. I'm still not sure. All I knew was that I hurt, and wanted to stop and ask if I could put my bike in the back of his car. Something wouldn't let me do that.

A few miles later, my hip hurt with every pedal stroke and I was pretty sure I had lost the initiative to complete this brevet. I told Chris he should find someone else to ride with, and About that time we rode up on Ken Ward who was having severe cramps and Chris offered him some Tums. They stopped, I pushed on, thinking I could make it to Granite Falls and call Mimi to come get me. They passed me. Then somebody else passed me. Then A few other people passed me and a butterfly passed me and my brain started playing tricks on me, like thinking Mimi wouldn't be home, she'd be really upset having to drive all that way, and maybe I could get as far as Arlington which isn't as tough to get to. If I could just get to Granite Falls. I stopped and took some advil to manage the pain, took a pee and watched some birds for a few minutes. I enjoyed the ride along Lake Roesiger and except for the shooting pains on my right side and the continued chafing, I wasn't doing too badly.

I rolled into Granite Falls just as Don and Elaine were rolling out, and Ralph was carefully considering whether he should go through the garbage can since he'd lost his brevet card.



He made a call to the organizers who gave him a solution and he was off like he'd had his bum lit on fire. He must be feeling really weak because of that 300K he did a few days ago, I thought.

I sat for about 20 minutes, did some stretching and called home, leaving a message on Mimi's phone. Then I saw Chris and a couple other guys ride by and limped off after them. In the next hour, as the advil started to do its job, I started to feel better. Chris, Ken Ward and I rode along together most of the way, passing a guy in a ditch who said he was feeling a bit nauseous. When he declined any assistance, we rode on. All of a sudden, I looked behind and Ken was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't said anything, just stopped. Chris and I rode the last 3 miles into Conway, stopping for a few minutes, a snack and a control entry.



It is only about 7 miles from there to the control in Stanwood and we arrived there at just about 3:30, still making excellent time - all things considered.

We rolled out of Stanwood with Ken Condray and Sylvia Shiroyama on tandem and they moved to the front pretty quickly, pulling us along for a while, but eventually, when they pulled a stand Chris and I lost the slipstream and we didn't see them again until the entrance to the Centennial Trail. Once again, they were leaving as we rolled in, but along came Will Goss and Steve Davis who had been struggling for a while with Will's chain. He remarked it was about 3 links short, to which Chris and I replied that we thought he was about 3 links short of a full chain, too, but heck, isn't that what friends are for?



So the 4 of us rode off together up the trail to Machias Station, where Mark Thomas told us he was there to sign our cards, that we weren't using the informational control question.



I wanted to answer it anyway



THAT fair!!!

So now we have just about 55K to go. The sun is still up and with another couple advil in me, a full bottle of Cytomax and a couple more gels, some shot blox and a couple handfuls of mixed nuts, the group of worse mixed nuts set off toward the finish line. I 'llowed as how if the Pie Shop in Snohomish was open, I was going to stop. They weren't so I didn't; we kept rolling through, and I had to settle for half of a Clif Nectar bar. Bad cyclist! NO PIE!!!

The ride up Broadway wasn't as painful as the last time I did it at the end of a long ride, but that last hill climbing up to White Horse pretty much finished me off.




The sun was down now, the temp had dropped to 51 and we had 17 miles of easy riding left. Thank goodness. I just didn't have anything left. I took time to stretch really good, put on my jacket on for the descent and after Chris had systematically and very carefully placed all his belongings back into his bag, changed lenses, zipped everything up, adjusted his crotch, scratched everything that needed scratching and double checked to make sure he hadn't left anything behind (think maybe I could learn something from this youngster), we were off. No more climbing. Just 15 miles of familiar trail. We overtook Will a couple miles later, and the three of us rode on to the finishline, completing in just 15 hours. When I rolled up, there was a whole gang of well wishers and adoring fans there to greet me.



I may have lost a card, lost my sanity, lost any street cred when it comes to organizational skills and lost my race yet again with Jan Heine, but I once again found my way to the finish line.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATRINA

Three years ago today, I barely got any work done. I sat at my desk dreaming of thing yet to be. For over 9 months, I'd waited. Weekly trips to Elliott Bay Bikes to check on status. Seeing the frame when it came out of the shop and was ready for chroming. Looking at the chromed frame before being painted. Choosing all of the components, one by one, making sure I was going to get just what I wanted. Then finally it came back from the paint shop, and was ready to build out.

And build it out, they did.

Here, the crew admires their handiwork:



I'd gotten a call from Bob on Thursday letting me know that Eamon (Stanley) would be finished with the build-out by 4:00 pm on Friday and he would like to schedule to have me come in for a fit.

At 3:30 pm, I left my office in Lynwood, nervous as a little kid getting out of bed on Christmas morning. As I drove south from Lynnwood to downtown, though, I started to have doubts. This is a 56cm frame. All of my other bikes are 53cm, but Bob told me not to worry, they always design theirs a little larger. But what if it doesn't fit right? What if I don't like it? What if ....... what if .......? My mind played all these little mental games with me, knowing I'd just spent a lot of money for a "toy". And then, what if I get burnt out and don't want to ride any more? Or decide I really want a mountain bike? Or want carbon fibre...... Maybe I should have gone titanium...... All these little lingering doubts.

When I walked into the shop, there she was: Fenders, racks, lights and all of the things necessary for me to make this not just a bike that would be pleasing to the eye, but one that I could ride all day every day if I wanted to. Eamon still had to finish installing the headlight, and needed to put the mudflap on, but there was my lovely Katrina, front and center standing in the display room waiting for me.



And ride her I have! Bob and Eamon had done such an excellent job putting Katrina together that it took only a slight saddle adjustment, a slight cleat adjustment on my shoes and I was ready to go. From the moment I mounted her and rode a block north along Elliott, turning right and climbing up Blanchard, a block on 1st and then down the hill on Lenora back to the shop, I knew I'd made the right choice. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

In three years, I have put 22,136 miles on this dream machine of mine. That friday night, I rode her home in the rain, a whole 7 miles and the second day I had her, we rode a 200K together. The day started warm and dry, and I finished the last 30 miles in a 25mph headwind that nearly blew me off the road, but we prevailed, and beat the heavy rain storm by less than a minute. We've done over 50 rides in excess of 100 miles, and never once have I dreaded having to get back on the bike to finish a long ride. I've ridden her on a 250 mile one-day ride, and she left me tired but pleasantly with no long-term soreness issues. Never once have I regretted my choice to have this all steel bike built.

She doesn't look quite as young as she did back on 2/16/07:



but she's still strong, still rarin' to go, and never complains, no matter what the conditions.

She has become my daily companion, and I look forward to the next 22,000 miles. Happy birthday, old girl. Thanks for all the good times.

01-10-10 - What a Difference a Week Makes!

What a difference a week makes, yes indeedy! Thinking back just a short 9 days ago when we rode 125 miles in hard rain, this morning’s gorgeous sunrise simply left me breathless and determined to take advantage of the best weather we’ve seen for a while.

As much as it genuinely pains me to say it, the weather in Seattle today was absolutely ideal. I started out from the house about 9:00 for a 25 mile loop over to Lincoln Park, Alki (with a stop at Tully's for some coffee and a donut), then home again. It was 46 leaving the house, so I had on a long-sleeved silk underlayer and one of my old Perlizumi long sleeve jerseys with a windbreaker, wool knickers and short wool socks, and long fingered gloves. The first 3 miles from my house is pretty much downhill, followed by a couple of really nice climbs (1 is 11% for almost a mile) and by the time I got up to the top, I had to stop to take the jacket off. As I did, I was treated to a really nice view of Mt. Rainier behind me.



About a half hour or so later, it was even more spectacular as I saw it from Marine View drive just before the descent to Lincoln Park (I'm at elevation +/- 600' above sea level here)



The view out over Puget Sound to the south with Des Moines (left) and part of Vashon Island (right) was pretty nice, too.



Off to the west, the pristine Olympic Mountain Range was showing off, as well, with the Fauntleroy/Southworth Ferry heading in toward the Fauntleroy dock below me.



After a nice fast decent, I got down to Lincoln Park where I took off the busier roads and rode around by the water for a while where the temperature had warmed to a very pleasant 51 degrees. .



After coming out of Lincoln Park, the route follows along the waterfront to Alki Beach, where I went by one of my favorite places, the "blue bottle house"



and then stopped at the Statue of Liberty to reflect a little bit on what it means to be an American these days.







Several of my favorite American heroes are quoted here, including these two:





Of course, no ride is complete without a stop for some coffee and (ya think MAYBE???) a donut. I get so excited about my pastries sometimes, I just can't focus my blackberry very well.



When I rolled up to Tullys, though, I got to see one of my favorite vehicles, the famed TRIKE



I had a great time chatting with the owner of this fine steed (and his sister), who gave me a great demonstration on how the bell worked. Sis was really impressed with how my bell worked (complete with a thermometer) and told me she didn't have a bell for her baby stoller, and spent a bit of time introducing me to all of her dollies - sure wish I had some pics of those kids!!! They were really precious.

After working my way aroung Alki Point and south along the Duwamish Trail, I crossed the First Ave. S. Bridge for another great view of my mountain



and then headed home after riding around through the industrial district for a while where a few of the other pieces of heavy equipment found out that my bike isn't easy to crush





And as I rode along Michigan Street (this is one street NOT recommended for bicycles) I couldn't help be amused by this car wash sign



Thinking maybe I could get an explanation of just what this "CHEW BUSH" sign meant, I pulled into the parking lot and examined the other side

Now I'm even more confused than before. What the heck is a BASIC CAMEL?



ONE HUMP OR TWO????

The temperature at Alki when I came out of Tully’s was 53 degrees and by the time I got home, I'd seen 55 degrees once briefly coming up Swift toward Beacon Hill.

2010 is off to a great start!

01-01-10 Permanent 202 on Highway 101

What could possibly motivate 7 otherwise sane, rational, adults to go to bed early on New Year's Eve - after having read the weather forecast that said "100% chance of rain. Winds SE 15-25 shifting to SW 15-30 in the afternoon" - so they could be sure and wake up at 3:30 in the morning to get ready for a BIKE RIDE. Really! This just all seems a bit extreme doesn't it?

Well, When Dr. Codfish



called for a ride on New Year's Day, riding the Olympia-Brinnon-Olympia RUSA permanent route #202 which is mostly on Hwy 101, I couldn't resist. Obviously, I wasn't the only one, since my friends Joe Platzner, Lyn Gill and Chris Heg also decided to make the 60 or so mile drive south to the start line. Two other guys from around the area were also foolish enough to brave the elements and I was mighty glad they did, since I would need each and every one of them to pull me along before the end of the day.

Lyn showed up with her customary huge smile and excitment to be out on the bike



Joe showed up hungry enough to eat the most brazenly decorative doughnut known to the human race



and the rest of us just showed up.

Ken Ward


Chris Heg


James (?)


We all exited the parking lot at 0630 hrs prompt - well one of us (and I won't mention Lyn by name here) started at 0633 but quickly caught up to us - with about an hour to ride before it got light. Our first informational control came at about mile 6, where we had to answer one of two questions on the controlle card.




It had started to rain pretty steadily by this time, but we were all still in the dark about what was ahead of us.



This ride is really a 3-segment out and back. 35 miles to Hoodsport, 50 miles from Hoodsport to Brinnon and back (with a stop in Brinnon to get controlle card signed) and then 35 back to the finish line in Olympia. The first 35 miles went pretty fast, with most of us sticking pretty close together and a light tail wind pushing us along. I think James had a temporary moment of sanity at that point and decided to call it a day. Dr. Codfish was off the back a mile or so and as the other five of us rolled into the Hoodsport Coffee Company, Joe decided to forge on ahead while Lyn, Chris, James and I stopped briefly for quick refills and drainages. I have to say, the folks at this espresso bar are some of the nicest people I have ever met in my riding. They are always so warm and inviting, and never give us crap about making big puddles all over their floor.

After less than 5 minutes, we're off and rolling and it didn't take Lyn and Ken long to drop Chris and I off the back end, and not much longer before Chris dropped me. The rest of the way into Brinnon, I rode along content in the solitude, listening to the wind howl in the trees above me, thankful that the wind was at my back so the rain wasn't driving into my face except on the descents. This 50 mile stretch is never flat but never really steep climbs, they just keep coming at you. The rain really started to come down with a vengeance near Eldon and I was thankful that I'd made a decision to bring along an extra set of clothes in a pannier, knowing how good it would feel when I got to Brinnon to change into warm, dry clothes for the return trip.

When I rolled into the control, there were the gang of four all either eating and drinking or getting ready to. I decided to get another 25 miles out of the soggy set of clothes I had on and so made a quick trip through the mini-mart, picking up a Snickers Bar, bottle of chocolate milk, and then after making a beeline for the porta-potty and was back on the bike, but not before walking into the store and announcing to nobody in particular, "We're not nearly as intelligent as we look" and snapping this picture of Joe and Chris.



Lynn was still all smiles.



Everyone saw me roll out and quickly saddled up and chased me down. Chris was a little slower getting mounted up, and with the severe headwinds we were going to be faced with, I decided to let the other three go ahead and I pulled off into a nice little pullout where I was sheltered from the wind and waited for him to catch up.



We actually got a pretty nice reprieve from the hard winds, as the wind did shift and we got a little shelter from the hills and big trees, but there was still a pretty good headwind all the way back into Hoodsport. I needed to stop one more time just outside of Lilawaup to take advantage of a little immediate wild relief station, and parked the lovely Katrina in the shade so she wouldn't get sunburned



When I got into Hoodsport finally, I grabbed my pannier and made an immediate entry to the bathroom where I stripped down buck naked (sorry, no photos of that) and changed into a nice, warm, dry set of clothes. I even had an extra pair of shoes in the pannier. A harsh lesson in reatity began to soak in about this time, however. The dry clothes feel really good. The wet clothes now weigh about 5 pounds more than the dry ones, and they're in the pannier. Don't suppose I'll want to do that again any time soon.

The proprietor of the coffee shop loaned Lyn a hair dryer



and Joe pulled on the remaining dry layers of clothes he had with him (over the wet ones!) and devoured not one but TWO bagels - don't know what this affinity for round doughy things with holes in them is



We rolled out as a gang of five now, with the thought we should try to stick together the last 35 miles, as the wind was picking up and we'd do a lot better together than apart. The crew had to wait for me twice on climbs and I was mighty glad they did.

We made one more roadside stop so I could make a slight gear adjustment to put on my helmet light, and I noticed that the rain was finally lightening up a bit. It felt mighty nice to finally get off of Highway 101 and onto the back roads again, where we could actually hear what each other was saying again, and just as it was getting close to dark, we rolled back into the finish line, drenched but totally happy with the day.

I think Lyn has been riding with Vinny Muoneke a bit too much, though. There's just something way too similar about these smiles.



M: 125
T: 9:09
TT: 10:23
E: 4,444
A: 13.5 or so

Scio Frozen Bridges

Well, seems there’s been a lot of carpin' 'bout the frigid air (and I ain't talkin' 'bout the one in yer kitchen) so I might as well talk about yesterday's little fiasco. Mind you, this ride was MY IDEA, so I can't complain.

I decided I wanted to go to Oregon in December and do a permanent with one of our new board members, but when I emailed Cecil Anne, she couldn't ride on Saturday, but could on Sunday. Well, doing a ride of 125 or so miles on Sunday is tough enough for me, but having to do a 4 hour drive back from Portland to Seattle in heavy Sunday nite going home traffic is pretty much unthinkable, so I organized one of Susan France's routes, the Scio Covered Bridges. I've wanted to do it for a while, and thought this would be a good chance. Relatively flat, not up into the higher hills so if there's cold rain and snow in the foothills, I'll probably be okay.

So Greg Sneed told me in late Oct. he wanted to go for his R-12. November we did 3-Rivers Cruise. He was signed on for this one, as was Ron Himschoot and John Vincent. Two Oregon Randonneurs, Sam Huffman and Bill Alsup signed on as well. Bill needed a ride in December to make his 2nd consecutive R-12. Sam hasn't ridden anything long since May, but is strong and young.

Then the weather forecasts started to bear watching. Dropping temps, threats of snow, freezing fog and wind. First Greg bailed. Then Ron. I told 'em I'm probably better prepared than some guys since I now have studded tires. So I loaded both bikes in the truck and headed off to Portland late Friday afternoon. 31 degrees when I got to Wilsonville about 9:00 pm. 27 degrees when I woke up, and freezing fog. Still dark, but there's a sheen of frost on the pavement. Susan had granted me permission to delay the start a couple hours if I needed to, so we decided to roll out at 8:30. As we went out to start getting ready, John says to me, "Boothby, there is ice forming ON my tires - just since we've been here. I'm packing for home.' Now we are 3.



Sam, Bill and I started out and rode the first mile along I-5 on frosty pavement. When we got off the highway and started down the back roads, I said, "Boys, I'm not doing this." Sam 'llowed as how he was with me. Bill? Well, he decided to soldier on.




As Sam and I got off the northbound freeway, I decided I'd go get my ice bike and do a short ride anyway. Maybe go along the course down to Silverton and back - that's about 40 or so miles. Once I had those studded tires under me, I felt pretty doggone good. No slip slidin' and very comfortable with that magic red saddle on it. The sun had come out around Wilsonville,



but as I got south a little ways, the fog settled in again, and there was a bunch of ice pretty much everywhere.







All the fog and ice made for some really spectacular sightseeing, though my teeth were chattering pretty good for a bit in the below-freezing temps.



OK, to make matters worse, when I changed bikes, I forgot to move my Spiz and Cytomax bottles from Katrina over to Iris, and just outside of the first little town, I reached down to grab a drink and my water bottle was EMPTY! So I stopped in Barlow at the little mini-mart and grabbed a cup of coffee. Hot and fresh, but too hot to drink, so I put a little ice in it. Then a little more, and drank a nice warm coffee. Before leaving, I topped it off with iced coffee which tasted great for the next several miles. Still had ice in the bottla 2 hours later.



And I found these beautiful black horses standing in the snow white fog. Very mysterious scene, with them emitting clouds of steamy breath and steam rising from their wet coats. I'm convinced they are responsible for all the fog.



And the huge Oregon Live Oaks were pretty awesome looking, too.



I overtook Bill in Silverton, and he convinced me (took a lot, right?) to ride on with him. And from there on, no clouds or fog



This is the Scio COVERED BRIDGES permanent:

The first of the three is just before coming into Scio



They do love their High School Football team here, too:



Scio beat Kennedy 14-7 to take the championship - this game was in progress as we rode through.

http://highschoolsports.oregonlive.com/news/article/-551907838358710884/kennedy-vs-scio-215-pm-saturday/

Bill dropped his camera and broke it right by that first bridge, so stopped at the Scio Market and bought a very patriotic adorned instant camera he was very pleased with



After a snack, it was off to the Hoffman Bridge



And then into beautiful downtown Crabtree, Population about 250 maybe, but our brevet card has a secret control here and we weren't sure if we were supposed to count the doors or the reindeer, so we counted both



After a bit of wandering about, we finally got to Gilkey Bridge





The temperature had jumped up to about 40 degrees in mid-afternoon, and we now had another 35 miles to go to get into Salem. We picked up the pace a little, trying to make it through Salem before dark. At least we arrived before Sunset, in time to take our pictures at the Capitol (where I was sworn into the USMC on 6/12/69)



OK, I aplogize for you having to turn your monitor on its side to see this one.



And now with 40 miles to go, the sun is down, the night air is chilling rapidly and we're ready to roll out. The Salvation Army bellringer must have told us 20 times to be careful. She told me the story of her brother getting hit by a car 3 times.



And at 8:10 pm, after 11 hours and 40 minutes, one false start, one bike change, no serious missed directions and a whole lot of hot coffee along the way, Bill Alsup finished his R-24



and Raleighdon the insane was there to witness it.

Now for the post script.

I went back to the hotel and got in the shower. I had stopped and picked up a chicken teriyaki to go and was really hungry, but wanted to get under a nice hot shower first. So I did. Now, normally, I'm a 3-minute shower guy. But I didn't want to get out. But I wanted to eat. But I didn't want to get cold again. I was seriously conflicted - probably a bit tired, too. I finally had to turn the water up so hot I couldn't stand it in order to force myself to get out. Hotels never run out of hot water. After eating a little bit, I crawled into bed still chilled. I pulled on clean wool base shirt and a clean pair of wool knickers and kneesocks. I was still chilled. I pulled the bedspread back up and started to get warm. Then I started to get leg cramps, and twitches. So I got up, drank a bottle of water with NUUN. Then ate a banana, took 2 advil and got back in bed. 10 minutes later, still having small cramps. Drank a bottle of warm cytomax. Crawled back in bed and finished watching Santa Clause 3 on Disney and everything got better. I think I was a little dehydrated and electrolyte deficient, but mostly, think I just had trouble getting my core temp balanced.

But at the end of the day, I'm now at R-6 and don't have to worry about getting anything else til January.