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Daily Journal June 6th - June 20th
| Sunday, June 06th, 1998 - Training | |
For our last big training ride Cathy and I rode the Apple Classic century ride that follows the Columbia river from Wenatchee to Chelan and back, with some tough hills in the middle for good measure. Weather was hot - with over 90 degree temps on the open climbs. Great views from the ridges made it well worth the effort. We started at 7am sharp, and finished before 4pm - slow but steady was the succesful plan. | |
| Sunday, June 13th, 1998 - Packing | |
| Counting down the hours, testing the equipment before we pack. | |
| Sunday, June 14th, 1998 - Day Zero | |
I am writing this on our first rest day. There has simply been no time in the last 3 days of riding to find the time or energy. Day Zero we registered – brought back memories of registering for college classes before the process was computerized. Seven different stations. Pick up ID, wristbands, tent site locations, drop off bikes, and so forth. Smoothly operated – gave us hope the logistics for the next 48 days would be as smooth. After registration we met up with Stephanie and Rob Kelly, and Rob’s wife - all from Vancouver, and did a bit of carbo-loading at a noodle shop near the Seattle Center. Still had much to do that afternoon to finish packing and complete the errands. | |
| Monday, June 15th, 1998 - Day One | |
Alarm went off at 3:45. 5 hour of sleep is not enough – but will have to do. We arrive at the Seattle center at 4:30am to drop off luggage – thankfully they didn’t weigh them or we certainly would have been over the 70 pound limit per person. Too many electronics and luxury items. After a brief but thought provoking opening ceremony with speeches from several ALA executives, we are finally ready to get on our bikes. The nervous energy in the air is overwhelming. Everyone is saying goodbye to loved ones. We are impressed by the diversity of people who have chosen to do the Big Ride. Many people over 70 years of age, many people who are handicapped in some way. Each gives us hope that we can avoid being overcome by our own limitations. We leave the Seattle center to cheers and whistles – 730 strong – at precisely 6:30am to tackle what will prove to be an arduous ride. Riding down 5th street closed to traffic, with cops at each intersection was a true thrill. Then over I90 bridge, up the Issaquah plateau, up past the Snoqualmie Falls, and into North Bend for lunch where we ate at the Twin Peaks location diner. Finally it was time to tackle the pass straight up I90 climbing to 3200’. Weather was not cooperating. We did not plan for 43 degree driving rain. Luckily the trucks created a nice artificial tailwind. Cathy and I have done the pass before in nice weather, so at least know the climb but we passed many hurting people from Florida who Texas who found the conditions unbearable. Hard to train for hills in Florida. We finally reached the summit, and stopped to warm ourselves at one of the ski lodges. How nice a warm room feels when you are soaked to the bone. After 30 minutes we decided to push on to Easton – another 18 miles. Here the conditions worsened. The rain turning to sleet at times, and the road was covered in ˝ inch of water, creating a cold spray from each passing truck. We got so cold we considered waiting for a sag wagon, but decided best to continue on rather than cool down. When we finally reached camp, neither of us could feel our hands or feet. We couldn’t setup the tents until we thawed out in the thankfully HOT showers. Dinner was warm, tasteful, and nourishing. Not much talking going on. We found at later that at least a 1/3 of the group of sagged up the pass. A light snow covers the trees only 100’ higher than camp. We crash in our bags asleep by 8pm. | |
| Tuesday, June 16th, 1998 - Day Two | |
Awakened by the sound of rain on the tent through the night. Glad we bought the super-deluxe Thermarest pads. Our bags had sat in 3 inches of water when unloaded from the gear trucks, but luckily the boy-scout in me had put everything in kayak dry-bags. We were dry all night. Alarm awoke us at 4:45am. Our goal is to be on the bikes by 6:30am, but it takes longer than we anticipated to get ready for the day. I check our tire pressures and find that the bike shop has filled to "recommended" pressures - which are 30psi less than we have bee n training with for 3 months. No wonder those hills seemed long. Today we ride to Yakima - about 90 miles down the road. The route crew has done a great job keeping us off I90 - taking us on side roads that winds down the valley. Long stretches of downhill as we lose altitude on the other East side of the pass. Hate to give up the elevation gain so easily knowing we will earn it back in the Rockies. The weather turns out to be beautiful - cold at first, but no rain, and a big tailwind. Everyone is in much better spirits. The logistics are well handled with regard to tent placement, food services, medical, mechanics, and sag crews. There are over 200 volunteers divided in 5 teams, each covering different legs of the trek. The lack of phone plug is going to make it difficult to keep up to date information up on the web site. We follow a tributary of the Yakima river for many miles, then climb over the big hills outside Ellensburg. It is beautiful country. Lunch is at the Blue Grouse, who bend over backwards to handle all the bikers, including pitchers of water at each table. Cathy's mirror falls off her bike and she runs over it with her back tire. We find a bike shop only a mile down the ride and buy another. They are selling gel seats like hotcakes. I leave my wallet and helmet in the store, which we discover a miles down the road, leaving Cathy to ride back and fetch, as riding without a helmet is grounds for immediate expulsion.. We have been having problems with Cathy's granny gear - she can't seem to get it to shift up, but every time we take it into a shop, they say it is fine. It finally dawns on us that the front handle bar bag is pressing on the gear cable enough to distort the shift tension. The ride through the Yakima canyons is stunning. The road follows a narrow cutout a few hundred feet above the water. Stunning views around each curve in the snaking river. Despite the beauty, it is a long and hot ride. I am drinking all 3 water bottles between pit stops - about a bottle every 10 miles. But I can tell I am going to have problems staying hydrated in the heat. Yakima itself is a disappointment after the bucolic scenery before. We arrive at rush hour and have to cross town in heavy traffic. But the tent site is a city park with plenty of grass, and views of the hills. Time to have a leisurely dinner. Food is exceptional given the production scale and facilities. Start reading Kerroack's "On the Road" - seemed appropriate for the ride, but only make it through 5 pages of the intro before falling asleep. | |
| Wednesday, June 17th, 1998 - Day Three | |
An acquaintance Werner Zurcher warned us that day three would be bad. Good foreshadowing Werner if you are reading this. We are out of camp by 6:30am. We have a slow 1200' climb along desolate highway. Cathy and I don't read the map closely, and keep thinking we are on level ground. Cath is getting peturbed we can't keep our normal pace. I have my first flat in 1500 miles of training - a tiny piece of wire. Even touring wheels won't help. We do seem to be having many less flats than the thin-tired "scooter trash" as we affectionately have named the bikers that race past us. Road protocol is excellent thanks to a well produced training tape at registration. Passing, cars, and road debris are all called out. We finally finish the climb, do a bit of downhill, then enter the Hanford nuclear facility. It is not surprisingly a wasteland. The wind has picked up with the noon day sun, and it is hot - about 87 on the road. No shelter in sight. We are warned at the second pit stop that the next 30 miles have strong headwinds. We push on. It is a true grind. We can barely maintain 9mph with the strong winds. The voices start in your head that you can just stop, and someone will pick you up. That you don't have to hurt yourself - that pain is a sign to stop. But at least 2 thoughts push us on - the courage of the people who are doing the ride in much worse pain than us - the woman recovering from a lung transplant, the paraplegic who cycles using his arms only, the man who is towing a cello across the county for an unknown reason. These and the rumor of a Starbucks frappocino in Kenniwick keep us going. Tumbleweeds are blowing across the highway. The crew is kind enough to add a water truck halfway - very much appreciated. We arrive in Kenniwick around 5:45 - 11 hours later. A long hot 88 miles ready for a day off. My feet hurt, and I am dehydrated, and sunburned in places despite liberal use of SPF 40. Cathy and I are both having minor aches, knee, and foot pains. Nothing that a good night sleep and a day off won't cure. | |
| Thursday, June 18th, 1998 - Day Four Rest Day | |
Our camp site is along the Columbia river. Beautiful morning. Slept in till 6am. Nice not to have to think about getting the bikes prepped for the day, or the nervous anticipation when we get the ride maps in the morning. Goal today is rest - mind and body. I find a power plug down by the river and write up the last 3 days and recharge batteries. Cathy does the laundry - basins are provided. A taxi takes the 4 of us (Cathy, Stephanie, Rob, and I) into "town" aka strip mall for food and small supplies. A quick stop by Starbucks and we are truly back to normal. Nothing like a mocha frappocina on a hot day. A local bike store provides me a gel seat cover to at least shift the blisters around, and a phone line to upload pictures. Unfortunately I use the same line as their credit card approval system, and unknowingly cause minor chaos without realizing it. There are at least 30 other bikers in the store stocking up. Back at camp the crew has posted newspaper articles covering the BigRide from all the towns we have passed through, as well as some national coverage. | |
| Friday, June 19th, 1998 - Day Five | |
Feeling great after a day off. Fell asleep to a beautiful sunset with blue skies abound. But awoke to the sound of pattering rain on the tent - our first opportunity to break camp in the rain - probably will not be our last. Today we ride from Kennewick to Dayton, with a few thousand feet of steady climbing midday. Starting to think of anything under 3K of altitude change as an easy day. We cross the Columbia river bridge heading out of town early with no traffic. Sometimes you feel like you are the first ones up until you see the farmers working the fields at sun up. We fight a strong headwind following the river, but after pit 1 luckily turn east along HW12 away from the river and pick up a surprisingly strong tailwind that carries us for the next 15 miles. Very desolate landscape gives no hint of the abundant farming communities awaiting around Walla Walla. As we approach the "big" city for lunch, the smell of Walla Walla sweet onions spurns an appetite. We pass many of our favorite WA wineries, but don't dare start tasting, as we don't have room on the bikes for many cases. We do stop at Woodward Canyon and change our home address. They are surprised to find we arrived sans-car. In Walla Walla we seek out the only restaurant we can remember listed in NW Best Places and find it downtown. What a treat to sit down at Paisanos with linen and flatware. Our salads have enough garlic to warrant a 2-star Thai rating. We talk to several other tables about our trip. People are genuinely interested in what we are doing. The ALA media people are doing a good job of getting the word out that we are coming. It is hard to miss 730 bicyclist sporting every color of spandex made. Some communities honk and cheer us on, kids line the road and want you to give them a high-five as your ride by - what a joy. Some towns are less receptive. It is sad to see the spirit and economy of a town so depressed that they can't appreciate us and instead view us as intrusive. Happily that is not the norm. As we leave Dayton we are impressed by the beautiful golds and yellows of canola growing on the hills, backdropped against the bluest of skies. Peas and asparagus are growing everywhere. The air is cooler, and everyone is in great spirits. There is a long 3 mile gently winding downhill where we can maintain 40mph without braking - what a joy to burn up the miles on such a nice day. Downhill in rain requires so much more attention you can't enjoy it. Dayton is a small Mayberry town. We camp at the high school which is adjacent to rushing stream and a towering 2000' hill. Unfortunately a few riders attempt to climb up a canyon to the top and find themselves stuck halfway up. A local ambulance rescue squad answers their cries for help. The rescue turns an uneventful evening into a big event for Dayton. Later that night at 2am we are awakened by the air raid sirens. My first groggy thought is to run for higher ground, that a dam has broken upstream. But we soon realize that this is the fire alarm for the town calling all volunteer firefighters. We will be long gone before we can find out what has happened. Early each morning we sneak out of town again leaving nothing but empty fields behind. | |
| Saturday, June 20th, 1998 - Day Six | |
Today we leave WA and enter our first new state - Idaho. Today is a climbing day - about 3000 feet. One short climb in the morning, and one long one over our second pass - Alpowa summit. Still frustrating to keep returning to near sea-level after each climb - but we will reach the Rockies shortly in Idaho and maintain our altitude as we cross the mid-west. We rode for some time in the morning with a couple from Vermont. Matt had solo crossed the country (Boston to San Diego) on the same brand Panasonic bike I used 15 years ago on my trek around Lake Michigan - and he is using the same bike for this trip. I guess biking is less about technology and more about leg power. I'm certain a Greg Lemond on a 3-speed junker could beat me up the rockies any day. Many states have designated their riders a "team". Team Florida is having some problems with the hills and cold, and can't wait for even hotter weather. It is surprising to find someone still in their cold-gear long after you have stripped down. Conversely team Washington whines anytime the sun comes out and the air temperature is over 75 degrees. Cathy and I have started calling ourselves "Team Turtle" - we plod along, but always finish. We are starting to have some tension among the real bikers and the plodders. It is frustrating to get passed every morning by 500 bikes yelling "on your left" as they power by. They too are frustrated at having to call out so often. Drafting is banned from the ride, but some rider packs are clearly drafting. Tonight during dinner announcements several riders are suspended for a day from the ride for their unsafe riding. One rider is nearly arrested for talking back to an Idaho State Patrol officer. The bigride leaders warn us they won't bail us out of jail. We are slowly picking up on different designations for people as you hear their stories. Some people are riding for a cause, a family member who has died from a lung related illness. Some people are riding simply because they love to bike. And some people are riding because they need time and space away from their lives to sort out big issues. Many people have quit unsatisfying jobs to ride - either because they were ready to quit, or they had to in order to ride. We are here for all these reasons. We stop for a nice lunch in Pomeroy. It appears pit 2 is sharing a small town park with a Knights of Columbus weekly BBQ. We talk at length to an elderly man and woman about the ride who make us feel welcome in their small town. There is a flush toilet at the park - a real pleasure. There are few things worse smelling than a portable toilet in 95 degree heat. "Butt balm" on tongue depressors is being dispensed by the medical crew in record number. Bag balm is a veterinary product used to keep cow udders from chaffing, and seems to help with the discomfort of a long ride. Riding everyday doesn't give the body much time to heal from minor injuries. We are both noticing the numbness in the toes and hands that comes with long rides. Small pains become more aggravating when you have no choice but to keep riding. Our skin is taking on various tan line patterns, as different size jerseys and shorts overlap in different places. We have the distinctive "raccoon eyes" that comes from continually wearing sunglasses. Coppertone models we aren't. We talk with our friend Dave, who is a great biker. Somehow he has the energy to do the ride, take in 9 holes of golf in his Tevas, and still go out for some casino action at night. Cathy and I are happy to find time to finish a few pages of our books before we crash asleep at 9pm. We are following much of the Lewis and Clark trail. Historical markers make great water breaks. Cathy now calls them hysterical markers. A Baskin Robbins outside Lewiston provides welcome relief from the heat. We cross the Snake river into Idaho, and end the day with the hill from hell. A 800' 2 mile climb in 95 degree heat rising off the river up to the hills overlooking town. Just about every one walked it. Some riders were riding up and down again and again providing encouragement. Many people blew out their knees on this hill. | |
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