8/21/2005 07:29:00 PM|||John Calnan|||

For many reasons that I may want to write about at another time, I decided that my get-healthy goal for 2005 was to ride my bicycle in the Cascade Bicycle Club's RSVP ride, August 5 and 6, 2005. I made this decision about 26 pounds and 5 months prior to the ride itself.

Fast forward 5 months. I've been riding and spinning my little ass off with my support group that I met at Spin Class at the Vision Quest Gym in Auburn, WA. 1, 698 miles and 185 hours in the saddle later (combined bike and spinning time) it was time to put up or shut up.

In the days leading up to the ride, I had the bike "tuned" at my favorite shop, and made several lists of what to bring, what to pack, what to do before I left. This was my first big ride, after all, and it was a pretty big ride! As it turns out, I was over-prepared, over-packed, and over-worried.

The ride would begin on Friday August 5th. On Thursday night I paced the floor, redid my lists, and had a few glasses of wine to calm the nerves. I ended up finally falling asleep at 11 PM, and then woke up at 3 AM too hyper to go back to bed.

RSVP Revelation #1: It's hard to ride 109 miles on 4 hours of sleep.

Adrenaline won the day, however, and I showed up ready and anxious at the starting line at 6:00 AM. All of my fellow trainees from the Auburn club were there, including my riding buddy from Seattle, Kevin. After checking our bags that we would pick up in Bellingham, we set off from the start at 6:30 AM sharp, perhaps the 20th or so folks through the starting gate.

The first 10 miles were on the Burke-Gilman trail in Seattle, etc. The key to this section was to stay in the queue, and not get into trouble. It is a highly used thoroughfare, even at 6:30 in the morning. Folks are commuting to work or exercising, so safety is paramount. I heard rumor that someone from the RSVP ride collided head-on with a jogger. I'm not sure of the validity of the report, but I could certainly see the possibility given the fact that there were 1,100 riders all heading out at pretty much the same time.

Once off the trail, you head off through the city streets of Woodinville, and up "the hill". Having previewed this little gem a few weeks prior, I knew what to expect (expect "UP").

Actually, as those that have ridden with me will attest, I am a man of ample stature. Hills are NOT my friends, my friends. They are, more often than not, a stomp-fest of panting, wheezing, and 3mph grinding to the top. Not exactly my idea of a good time, but I'm improving. At the beginning of training, I would have to stop several times. Then, it was all the way to the top, but really slow at slow cadence. Now, it's all the way to the top, still pretty slow, but at better cadence. At age 50, this is a game of slow gains, folks.

Anyway, my surmise is that all your basic hills outside of Seattle, from valley floor to hilltop, are 300 to 375 feet of climbing, in anywhere from 3/4 to 2 miles. This is true of most of the hills around the Kent Valley where I did my training, and of this hill out of Woodinville. It's long (about 1.5 or 2 miles), and although I didn't have my altimeter with me, I'll bet it's in the neighborhood of 350 to 400 feet. It's a big hill, but it's NOT THAT BAD.


Anyway, from there, it's rolling terrain pretty much the rest of the way to Mt. Vernon. We made a pit-stop at Maltby Park (mile 19.6), where I caught this snap of Kevin and Jay.

As it turned out, that would be pretty much the last I'd see of my entire training group (12 souls) for the entire ride, save for Kevin. Not that I expected to ride all the way with the entire group, but I was a bit dissapointed that the goal of some of the group seemed to change from one of riding together to Vancouver, to one of riding as fast as possible. Oh, well. I may get faster, but I'll never let myself ride so fast that I miss the scenery.

We went through some mildly rolling terrain, then descended toward the city of Snohomish.

The road near the airport was under construction, and there would be a wait of 30 minutes before we could ride through, so all riders did a detour by riding on the shoulder of highway 9. Not the most pleasant stretch of roadway, but thankfully no punctures! There is a pie shop at Snohomish that many folks like to stop at on the ride, but we opted to cut through town and re-join the route without stopping.

Once through town, we had the option of riding on the road, or on the Centennial Trail. Pick your poison, exhaust or gates. I opted for gates (those county-funded obstacles that force a double zig-zag at all road crossings), as car exhaust and I just don't get along. After Kevin slathered on some sunscreen, we were rolling along in fine form. The weather was absolutely perfect, and we were in a good rhythm and feeling fine. We lost Sharon and Jay at this point as Sharon got a puncture somewhere between Snohomish (mile 27) and Machias (mile 33).


Next up was the mini-stop at Lake Stevens. This was a crowded stop, long lines for the sani-cans and bikers everywhere, clanking around in their cleats like so many ducks wearing tap shoes. This is where we started to notice that it was getting HOT.

We stopped long enough to call our spouses, and took off again. Different from the route in prior years is that a mile after leaving the mini stop, you get to ride another, newer section of the Centennial trail, which lets you avoid a small but nasty stretch of chip-seal, and lets you cross UNDER a highway that you formerly had to DASH across. A vast improvement.

From here, the terrain is slightly rolling, but frequently flat. Much of the scenery is unremarkable, except that you notice that folks have BIG yards, a novelty around Seattle-Tacoma suburbia anymore. The rolling was taking a bit more out of me as we neared Arlington. I got my emotional lift at the crest of a hill at mile 48, because it's the highest point on day 1. There's plenty of climbing to come, but my wee little brain likes the fact that there will now be more "down" than "up".

The most fun for me on day 1 is the descent into Arlington at approx mile 51, on Burn Road. This is a screamingly good downhill, winding through the trees and emptying you out near town. The pavement is a little rough toward the bottom, but I knew it was coming so I just tucked in and flew past a couple of tandems. These tandems looked to be husband-wife teams, and at over 40 mph, the "captain" is grinning, but the "stoker" is looking wild-eyed and ready to slap the "captain" upside the head. (Note to self, tandems may not help my marriage).

Kevin and I stopped at Arlington to refill water and mix up our respective sports drinks before proceeding. Then it's on to highway 9, where we ride with the traffic for the next 20 miles. The scenery here is nice, as you wind past lakes McMurray and Big Lake. Big Lake had been our destination when Kevin and I did our "preview" ride a few weeks prior. Now, we were headed to new territory. It's hot, and we leave the cover of trees as we head into Mt. Vernon, smack into a headwind of 10-15 mph. Thankfully the rest stop appears in 5 miles or so (mile 77). After our hot and windy approach to Mt. Vernon, I was at what I thought was my emotional low. I was freakin' tired, man. My ass hurt. I'm running out of gas, and the food stop is a little less than steak and lobster. Not having done this sort of ride before, I'm not sure what I was expecting for food, but it wasn't Jif on bagel, steamed red potatoes, and packages of cookies. Once I start eating, however, I realize that at this point peanut butter on bagel tastes better than caviar on toast points with brut champagne, and I tuck in.

Kevin and I roll out of Mt. Vernon, ready to deal with the last 30 miles of our day. That was before we encountered the CHIP SEAL FROM HELL. Highway 11 is flat as a pancake, but it is that lovely chip seal surface (where they spray oil on the road, then pour gravel on top). This surface results in a constant, fast, hard vibration in your bike that just breaks your heart. It did mine, anyway. There was a bit of a headwind as well. Did I mention it was hot? I didn't like this part one bit. Not having fun at all. We stopped at the Bow Country Store where Kevin downed a jug of gatorade the size of his head, and we headed off to Chuckanut.

Chuckanut was not as bad as I had feared. The climb is largely gradual, probably never worse that 8% or so at it's worst. The scenery is absolutely wonderful, however.


As you near the top, the "lemonade girl" has placed signs along the route that, as a result of how emotionally drained I was in the Skagit Valley, brought tears to my eyes. "Way to go", "You're almost there", "You did it". Schmaltzy, I know, but there was no way I couldn't stop. The lemonade was very cold, a little weak, but the greatest single drink I've ever taken. I put a big wad of sweaty $1 bills in her donation cup, and climbed back in the saddle to finish the day. Credit to Rob Brown for this pic, who apparently is far more composed and can remember to get his camera out at critical moments such as this. Thanks to him, and to the lemonade girl for the signs.

From here it's a fairly routine ride into town. We didn't book in time to get accomodations at the Ramada Inn (thankfully). Having stayed there in years past for soccer tournaments, Cascade and Ramada should take note that this place is WAY past it's prime. One of my training group got "walked" due to overbooking to some joint across the street, where his room had a prominent blood stain on the floor!. We had reservations across town at the Rodeway Inn, so we picked up our bags at the high school and rode on to the hotel, where the "thundering trickle" of the water conservation showerhead felt absolutely wonderful. Our spouses showed up in about 90 minutes or so, and we had a great dinner and a couple of pints at the Boundary Bay Brewery downtown. Sleep came quickly.

|||112468156809259285|||Ride from Seattle to Vancouver 2005 - Day 1