Barlow Trail Century

Some people deal with their emotional pain by cutting themselves, in the hope that a physical manifestation of their pain will make them feel better.

To those people I say, put away your razor blade, hop on your bike and follow me.

Today I volunteered as a chaperon for the Barlow Trail Century, called the "best one-day ride in Oregon" by...well, the people who put on the ride probably. It's a brutal ride that includes MUCH more climbing than the Boring Ride. If it's pain you're looking for, this is a good a way to find it as any, and better than most.

Three years ago this month, mom and I did the 40 mile option of the ride together, with her on my mountain bike. We completed the ride in four hours, which was pretty impressive considering the amount of climbing even in the shorter route. She was a real trouper. I thought it would be nice to ride it again and do the full century.

My team is sponsored by River City Bicycles who put on this event so we're expected to volunteer in some capacity anyway. Chaperoning just involves riding the course (you don't have to do the whole thing, but I wanted to) and being willing to stop and help anyone in need with repairs, directions, encouragement, rations etc.

I stopped at Finkos and printed out a picture of me and mom to tape to my seat bag. It just seemed appropriate.

I got started at 8:00am. The forecast called for rain and there was a light mist when I set out. Throughout the day the weather got more and more miserable and I wore every stitch of bike clothing I had brought and made a fine testing of my new Showers Pass rain jacket (it passed with flying colors).

I started later than most people so I was alone on the road for a long time and what people I did see were generally passing me in a double pace line. I did help one woman who had dropped her chain (she didn't really need the help, but it made me feel useful). The reality is, anyone who signs up for a hundred mile ride with 3500 ft elevation gain, is going to be a fairly experienced and self sufficient bunch.

Even the few injured people I encountered were already surrounded by scores of helpful, knowledgeable people who were taking care of everything. So that just left me to ride and think about being wet and cold and why was I out there and did I *really* want to ride the full 100 miles? I was starting to have doubts.

The website for the ride explained it this way:

Test your resolve like the pioneers before you, laboring up the flanks of the great mountain on this old historic Oregon Trail route. Be sure to look for the stunning views of Mt. Hood along the hearty 8.5-mile climb (average grade 8-10%). Crest the saddle at 3,500 feet and you'll find a stash of provisions nestled in the woods to fuel your ride home.

I was all for testing my resolve, but it looked like my grade was leaning somewhere in the direction of a B-/C+.

As soon as I left the first rest stop at 20 miles, the real climbing started. From then on I just settled into the new reality that my legs were going to hurt. They were soon followed by my knees. "Spinning" wasn't really an option when the grade tilted upwards so steeply it was all I could do to keep up enough momentum to stay upright.

Relief came in the form of a steep windy descent into the valley described as "Little Switzerland" (see above). When the road turned up again, it wasn't quite as steep so I was still able to make good time. Which was a good thing because me and my bladder were counting down the miles to the next rest stop at mile 41. Around mile 38.5, I gave up and went behind the nearest tree. Feeling much better, I rolled into rest stop two and was greeted by a lovely bonfire surrounded by chilled cyclists.

Up until that point, I had still been toying with the idea of heading all the way up to the top of Lolo Pass. But when one rider at the fireside who had just come down said, "I think it's hailing up there," any thoughts of adding insult to insanity faded into the mist. The thick blanket of clouds had wiped out any chance of the fabled amazing views. Without that carrot, I was having a hard time figuring out why I should spend another two hours, slogging up an 8-10% grade to a rest stop where the temperature was 10-15 degrees colder and there was no fire, followed by a chilly descent.

I think not.

I warmed myself up, traded knee warmers for full tights and set off back the way I had come, secure in the knowledge that I could drive back up the pass on a sunny day and enjoy the view.

The ride back included more company as I got passed by yet more burley racer guys and shared the road and some conversation with the occasional woman. Bree was asking about my new aero bars so I gave her a demo by leaving her in the dust on the next descent. I think she was impressed enough that she may be getting her own.

I felt better on the climbs coming out of the valley and Dodge park, even though my knees were protesting heavily by then. Near the end of the ride, I got to help one pour soul I found walking up the last major climb of the ride.

"Think about the burritos!" I yelled as I came even with him.

"There's burritos?"

"Yes, and they're from Laughing Planet and they're excellent."

That was enough to motivate him back onto the bike. He left me to catch his group but I saw him again a few mile later, coming the wrong way down the street after missing a turn. So I guided him in the right direction and then we stayed together through the last few turns back onto the Springwater Trail. The trail is nice and smooth in Gresham and the grade is tipped just downward enough for me to zip along comfortably at 18 mph. After a few minutes, my companion called up, "Hey, do you have a rope?"

I laughed. "Why, so I can pull you the rest of the way?"

"Yeah." I could tell from his voice that he was only half kidding. I knew the feeling. I'd wished for the same thing many times earlier in the day, watching guys with calves the size of my thighs whistling as they passed me.

I slowed down and then I asked if he'd run out of water.

"Yeah."

Well no wonder he couldn't keep up with me, even on a $12,000 demo bike that probably weighed as much as one of my pedals. I quickly gave him the rest of my water bottle which also had liquid nutrition added.

He cheered up after that. Then a few minutes later:

"Are we there yet?"

I looked up and thought I saw the sign for Cedarville park where the finish line was. "Yeah, I think we are actually." Together we blazed the last few meters to the finish line.

He headed off to turn in his bike and I took my bike to the car, changed as fast as I could and went to claim my well earned burrito, which was everything I had hoped and dreamed it would be for the last 40 miles. And the banana strawberry smoothie went down pretty tastily as well. I had to hand it to Rivercity for knowing the right way to feed depleted cyclists.

Final mileage was 82, which I completed in just over 8 hours and I'm feeling pretty darn happy with that.

Boring Ride (not!)

Today we went on this completely misnamed ride from the book Rubber to the Road: 30 Rides Around Portland. Yes, it goes through the *town* of Boring (and how tired must they be of all the obvious jokes?) but the ride was one of the best we've done all year.

We got a late start and left out the door at 10am this morning, wearing exactly the same outfits. Same shoes (Specialized), socks (Pearl Izumi), shorts (She-Beast century), jersey (Shift2bikes.org), bra (Nike) gloves (Specialized) and helmets (Giro Havoc). I can't tell you how sorry I am that we couldn't make it to the Pedalpalooza Twin ride earlier this week! Yes, I know we need help.

This was our long ride that Jess really wanted to do to make sure she is ready for STP. And I would like to note, this route choice was her idea. That'll be important later. It's a good thing that today is the solstice because it literally took us ALL day to finish the ride, but we had a great time.

We left from our house in Kenton (near Lombard and Greeley) and took the Esplanade and the Springwater Corridor to Boring where the real fun began. We were out on the road for nine hours by the time all was said and done. We had a hard time making headway in the beginning due to my TBS (Tiny Bladder Syndrome). Something about cranking the peddles makes my bladder shrink to the size of a walnut. We made it to Sellwood and stopped at the Paint-A-Pot place for a nature break. When Jess came out I said, "OK, let's get going, we only have 15 minutes" (before I have to pee again).

I *meant* it to be a joke.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be all too accurate a prediction and the trip up the bumpy Springwater path to the next pit stop at Cedarville Park was miserable and silent. After getting relief and a snack, I was finally able to settle down. Guess I'll never make it as a stage racer!

This route gets really good once you go through Boring and enter the countryside on your way to Eagle Fern Park--which is also near Eagle Fern campground where I was a junior counselor for Outdoor school my senior year of high school, bringing a sense of nostalgia to the already beautiful terrain. When we reached the park, our odometers said exactly 40 miles, a perfect time to stop for lunch. PB&J always tastes best after 30 or 40 miles.

After that it was miles and miles and miles of climbing, up to the George Rd Loop. We pondered which direction would be best to circle, and then promptly chose the wrong way. So, if you're thinking of doing the ride, be sure to take the left on Clausen Rd and do the loop 'backwards.' The chip seal is a little smoother on George and the descending is more straightforward. Still, we were thrilled when we finally hit the halfway point and could point ourselves downward. Jess was lacking her two lowest gears due to a cog that needs replacing and she was keenly feeling the loss. I ended up pushing her up several hills during the day to keep up morale.

"Who's idea was this?" she asked in the middle of a particularly brutal stretch.

"Yours!" I said promptly. I love it when I'm not in trouble.

"Well, you agreed to it!"

So much for not being in trouble.

After about 4 miles of climbing up Tickle Creed Road, just when Jess was asking "When do we get to go down?!?" we finally did.  I stopped to take a picture but told her to keep going.  I didn't see again for another couple of miles as she took off down what turned out to be a descent of a mile or two.

While we are clearly distance riders out for the fun and the scenery and not speed, while reading the book "Training Techniques for Cyclists," I came across this passage:

When that country dog comes boiling out of it's yard, bent on mayhem, a quick acceleration is usually the best defense.

Fortunately, all the dogs who came out to greet us on this ride were safely behind stout looking fences...except at mile 67, cresting the last of the interminable hills, we heard ferocious, but high pitched barking and looked back to see a poodle about the size of Jess's cat, barreling down at full speed with murder in his eye.

I've actually been told that the best defense against a chasing dog is to NOT run (inciting the prey drive) but to get off your bike and put it between you and the dog.  But in this case, such a tactic would've been too embarrassing to report later.  The dog's legs were shorter then my pedal cranks, and I had some legs left, so I just turned up the gas and sped off, helpfully distracting him from Jess and giving her time to get up the rest of the hill.  That little dog had surprising speed!  But I eventually crossed the invisible turf boundary and by that time Jess was on the down side of the hill as well.  It's like the universe gave us a little practice dog first, in case we run into something really big next time.

The rest of the trip was uneventful except for a short stretch of near death experiences on Hwy 211*.  The book said that this area "hasn't received much attention from cyclists" and I can see why--it's pretty challenging! But if your legs are up for it, it's definitely worth the trip.  Traffic is very slight once you get out of town.  The few cars we did see passed respectfully for the most part (there's always a few that don't know how to share), but clearly didn't know what to think about crazy cyclists out in the middle of  nowhere.  Here's the conversation I imagine from the look on one driver's face who passed going the opposite direction:

"Honey did you see that? What they hell are bikers doing way out here!?  I think those were girls too!"

The cows and the horses (there were plenty!) didn't seem too surprised to see us.

When we got back to Boring, we were pushing the 80 mile mark so we turned off the Springwater path at Eastman and went north a mile or so to the MAX station to get home. We stumbled triumphantly into our garage at 10:09pm, twelve hours, nine minutes after we left.

This ride was a great test of several things:

1) Are we ready for STP? Most definitely!
2) Jeff's mechanical prowess. I took our bikes to him after a disappointing shop tune up and he gave them back sparkling clean and shifting like buttah!
3) We both had fittings from Ward (a woman) at River City Bicycles and this was the first real world testing of the new set up. We both got shorter, higher stems which are serving very well, thank you. Other than adjusting our seats back to their original downward tip to keep our girl parts happy, things felt great.
4) New Koobi saddles, recommended by Zan, and purchased *as soon* as we got home from the Vernonia Ride a few weeks ago. I couldn't even sit on my cushy commuter saddle the day after that ride! Happy to report that the parts are MUCH happier now and I suspect, as the saddle molds to my shape, that things will only get better.
5) New aero-bars for me. Due to the low traffic and looooooong roads with no turn offs, I got to spend a lot of time in them, especially on the killer descent back to Eagle Fern park. SWEEEEEEEEEET!
6) Fueling strategies: We tried out several new brands and flavors of gels/bars/energy drink. The Hammer Perpetuem and the vanilla flavored Gu (the Hammer gels were not bad either) were the clear winners. Don't know about the nutritional value, but the emotional high of a tasty Costo poppyseed muffin bought from the Boring gas station is a great way to kill time on the MAX ride home.

Things we learned:

1) Bring more food next time
2) Refill water at the Boring gas station before riding off into the sunset
3) Speaking of sunsets, start earlier next time and possibly drive out to Gresham to start. Hills wear Jess out quickly (especially with two less climbing gears!).
4) Get a tandem. It's easier than pushing your girlfriend up the hills. :)

More pictures from the ride are here.

*I exaggerate.  There's no shoulder and one hill but it's a roller and the turn off comes pretty quickly.

The Gorge Ride

I've stumbled onto a fabulous training strategy for STP.  It involves going on organized rides where we have little to no idea of the route or terrain we'll be covering, but the conditions are much harsher than anything we'll see at the event.

As part of that strategy, I registered us for the first annual Gorge Ride, a supported tour of a 20 mile stretch of restored Columbia Gorge Highway put on by the Friends of the Columbia Gorge.  Their goal is to restore the entire highway so that you can bike from Troutdale to The Dalles without ever encountering Hwy 84.

It was the Gorge, so we could deduce that the route would probably involves some hills and oh yeah--there might be a little wind.  But what the heck, it was only 40 miles, right?

We arrived at the start point at 8:30am, having driven ourselves out from under the clouds that clung over Portland.  The sun was shining but it wasn't particularly warm at that time of the day and as soon as we got out the car, the wind hit us with steady force.  At least we'd be going into it starting out and enjoy a nice tailwind on the return leg.

As first time organized rides go, I'd say this one was a success.  The route was stunning, the cars few, and the rest stops, well placed and well stocked.  The nicest stop by far was at the historic Meyerdale Estates, a huge house that's in the process of being restored.  On a small patch of the expansive lawn, we enjoyed the usual rest stop snacks plus fresh cherries picked on the property that morning.  Mmmmm.

The stop at Rowena Crest had a great view but exposed as it was to the wind, we stayed just long enough to use the facilities and take a couple of pictures.

Another highlight of the ride was the trail section that is closed to cars and goes through the restored Mosier Tunnels.  The path is only a few years old and the road was buttery smooth.  Best of all, the end of the trail marked the halfway point.  From here on out, the wind would be on our side.

It was a much nicer return journey until we hit Rowena Crest again.  The gusts were 30-40 mph and we were literally almost blown off the road by cross winds a few times!  I've never cycled in such windy conditions and the concentration required was all consuming.  The windy descent I'd been looking forward to since we climbed it that morning was more of a harrowing test of nerve with all the battering crosswinds changing every few seconds.  I kept my hands on the brakes and didn't touch my new aero bars once.  When it was over, I was more relieved than exhilarated.

The flat end to the route was lovely though and an ice-cream reward awaited us at the finish.  As I walked into the Columbia Gorge Discovery center to use the bathroom, it suddenly hit me that I had thought about mom in hours.  As far as I know, that's the first time it's happened.  The thought was ruined by the fact that having the realization made me think about her again.  Not that I want to forget her or anything, but it was nice not having that huge shadow hanging over me for a few hours.  I suppose this is how it works...as time goes by, I'll be able to just live again and remembering her won't mean the risk of sliding down into dark tunnel of grief.  Or so they tell me.

Riders could buy reduced entry into the center, and they were pretty fanatical about making sure folks paid up.  We were questioned each time we entered to use the bathroom and we watched one worker chase another woman down when she strayed too far in in the wrong direction.  Apparently they missed the memo that it's a historical center, not a rock concert and dubbed themselves the security detail.  We found it pretty amusing.

We sat on the grass outside the and ate our lunches and talked to a nice older couple that we'd passed several times on the route and traded conversation, before heading home.

By the time we get to the mostly flat, comparatively windless STP, Jess will think it's a breeze.

More photos are here.

Birthday Bowling

I soooooo did not want to get up and get on my bike today. But we're officially in training for STP and there are a limited number of days we have to train and this was one of them. I lay in bed past 9 and snuggled further under the covers, when Jess said we really should be thinking of getting up.

I gave in eventually, and we got up. I put her in charge of breakfast, while I made pasta for lunch that we could fall on after our ride. We ate waffles, mango and scrambled eggs.

I put the spaghetti carbonnara (or bacon spaghetti as we like to call it) into Tupperware in the fridge. I made two separate batches, real bacon for me, fake for Jess. It's one of the few things that easy to cater to both our tastes.

We finally got on the road around 11:30 after one false start. It wasn't warm by any stretch but we forgot to factor the wind into our clothing choices. As soon as we got away of the shelter of the house, we turned right back around and put on more clothes. I wore my new Showers Pass rain jacket to check out the wind-proofing and the breathability.

We had planned to do 60 miles but time wasn't on our side anymore and the route I'd been wanting to do was closer to 40 or 45 miles anyway. We went over to Willamette Blvd to Interstate and down to the Eastbank Esplanade. Then we kept going south, through Milwaukie, past Elk Rock Island, the site of our one and only midnight ride adventure and on to Oregon City.

We stopped just before the bridge into Oregon City at a very new looking gas station/mini mart and took turns taking a nature break. I gave her a small kiss before I went in and before I remembered where we were. “Oh my God, we could get shot!” I exclaimed, only half joking. But no one threatened and one guy just asked how far was our journey today.

But I wasn't to escape totally unscathed. As we approached the bridge to Oregon City, I heard stupid boys yelling at me out of their car. At least, I assumed they were yelling at me because all I caught of the words were “f&&k that n-----” at the end. I didn't turn my head, just nodded to myself---we were in the burbs alright.

After that I was eager to get back to so-called civilization where people only think their racial slurs at you for fear of reprisal. We rode through 'the city' and back over another bridge onto hwy 43 and headed through Lake Oswego. We passed a strip mall and I saw a big Cold Stone ice cream sign leap out at me...but we were training so I resigned myself to drooling as we went by. That is, until I heard Jess yelling something from behind me.

I slowed down so I could hear her. “Don't you see the Cold Stone?” she was yelling.

“Well yeah, but we're training and...”

“It's your birthday weekend baby.”

“Oh YEAH!” So I turned down the steep driveway and we parked our bikes next to the outside tables.

Since we didn't have locks, we ordered separately. I went first, since Jess would be paying for our treats. The guy who served up my dish was generous, heaping a nice pile well over the edge of the dish. By contrast, a different worker practically robbed Jess. Her dish was barely over half full, with air pockets on both sides. I barely gave her a chance to pout before I grabbed her dish and mine and went back inside. The stingy guy who'd served up her scoop was still at the counter.

I smacked both our dishes in front of him and said, “She's feeling a little cheated.”

He proceeded to explain that mine was over filled. I just looked at him.

“Um, I can put some more in if you want...” he said, in a tone that said clearly, this time. That was fine by me. It's not like we'd be out this way again anytime soon. He still seemed disgruntled so I said to him, “It's OK, it's my birthday.”

“Oh,” he said, as if it actually made him feel better. I took the now repaired dish of cake batter and coffee ice cream back to Jess and we enjoyed our mid training ride treat.

The ride back was more climbing but the peace and scent of the woods in Tryon Creek state park more than made up for it. We cruised through at a leisurely pace, both because Jess is not great at climbing and so we didn't run into any pedestrians on the twisty wooded trail.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and we made it home by 4:30. I wasn't as starving as I thought I would be so I opted to shower first and put my birthday cake in the oven before falling on my pasta. I insisted on making my cake myself. This being my first mom-less birthday, I wasn't really willing to chance that anything about my cake might be different.

At my request, Jess had organized a cosmic bowling party for me at Interstate Lanes. We arrived just before 7:00 and had four lanes to ourselves. I always forget about bowling but when I do remember to do it, I always have a great time. Fourteen people showed up and it was a blast. Jess claimed to suck at bowling but it was quickly revealed that we had a few ringers in the crowd. Jess, Leslie, Tessa and I had the highest scores after the first game so then it was decided by the group that the high scoring players should be on the same lane to lower the pressure for the rest of them. I manged to break the hundred point barrier in my second game, but Leslie, Tessa and Traci in the lane next door proceeded to wipe the floor with the rest of us. Luckily the great thing about bowling is that it's so fun no matter how bad you suck. And everyone loved my cake.

Eris had picked Traci up from the airport on her way to the bowling alley and then Traci came home with us. When we got home Jess asked me (rhetorically I assume), “Do you want a present now and a present tomorrow?”

Well duh. So I got to unwrap a box slightly smaller than a breadbox that contained an Eagle Creek toiletry bag for traveling, the kind you can hang up in the bathroom while you brush your teeth and what-not. I loved it 'cause I would never really think to get one even though I always admire the one Jess has. It's easy for us to shop for each other because we just pick out whatever we'd buy for ourselves. Actually, since mine is newer, I think she's a little envious now.

Tomorrow we have a fabulous spa day planned at Bonneville Hot Springs.

It's...It's...LIVEWIRE!

Today after math class, Jess and I went out for one of our first real training rides for STP. We didn't have much time so it was a fairly quick 30 mile trip out to Blue Lake park and back. Winds were reported 10-20 mph and it was pretty brutal coming back on the path. Of course, I'm the one who always gets to take it in the teeth while Jess cruises behind in my draft. It's the price I pay for having the bigger thighs, but I don't really mind. I made her lead the whole way out so I could check out her uh...form. :)

When we got back, we had time to shower and eat before heading to the next birthday festivity, a date at the Livewire variety radio show. We saw Jay Graves, Bike Gallery owner and he recognized and said hello to Jess, which was a nice change—usually I'm the popular one so of course I had to tease her. But I lost my high ground when it turned out that I knew two of the people in the show tonight. Dave Allen, Dirty Martini manager and former bassist for Gang of Four was on interviewing the creator of the CD baby website. And Ashleigh Flynn performed. I didn't even know that I knew her but she came up to me at the Pickathon a couple of years ago and she used to work with one of my exes at Cascade Aids Project. Such a dinky world.

The show was not the best I've seen them do, but it did have some high points. Afterwards, I wanted to say hi to Ashleigh so I grabbed Jess's hand and walked backstage like I belonged there. Fortunately the first person I ran into was Jim from Mississippi Studios, who also produces Livewire. Jim knows me well from the musical company I keep.

“Hey Jim,” I said.

“K, how's it going?”

“Good, I'm looking for Ashleigh.”

“Come on, I'll take you up.” And he lead us up some hazardously steep narrow stairs to the hallowed green room. I love being on the fringe of the cool kid crowd.

We didn't stay long, just exchanged pleasantries with Ashleigh and I introduced Jess. She asked what I'd been up to and I kept it light. I don't think she knows about my mom and I didn't bring it up, despite the strong urge I always get to let even the most casual acquaintances know-- I feel like they should know they're dealing with the walking wounded, rather than a regular person but it's just not always appropriate.

When we left, Jess scolded me for grabbing a chip on the way out—but they were Doritos, I had to do it.