8/31/2005 07:59:00 AM|||John Calnan|||

I did not feel very strong on this morning. Kevin and I left the hotel at around 6 AM, did a pancake breakfast at a nearby Shari's, and started our day 2 ride. I had scoped out our path to rejoin the route at Sunset Drive. The scenery through this stretch was pretty forgettable, as I couldn't begin to tell you what stood out. There was a whole dialog going on in my head, however, about how crappy I felt, how I ate too much breakfast and it was sitting in my gut going nowhere. The weather was thankfully cooler, a "marine layer" of high clouds spared us the broiler-effect until after noon.

We ran into a few of the training group along the way, where Kevin and I were treated to the expression "c'mon, we're burnin' daylight". We stopped in Lynden, where it's traditional to have breakfast at Dutch Mother's Restaurant. Having already eaten, and just now starting to actually feel good, we only stopped long enough to glad-hand with some of our fellow trainees, and head out.




From Lynden, you wind your way through some pretty farm country on your way to the border. Along one of these roads, there is a girl who (I guess does this annually) hides behind a tree, and pulls a plastic lizard across the road with a string to startle the cyclists. It was a pleasant diversion to the morning. The border crossing (mile 21) was quick and painless, and the customs agent laughed when I joked to the assembled masses that they should "tell them you were going to take the tunnel, but you heard it was closed" (referring to the drug smuggling tunnel nearby that had recently been filled in).

Once across the border, we noticed two things right away. First, the roads were much smoother (no chip-seal here). Second, there was far less litter along the roads. Kudos to our neighbors to the north!

Next major obstacle was "the wall". This is a relatively short hill, but fairly steep. I did my "stomp and grind" routine and made it up at a blazing 3-5 mph, but I made it. Again, not as difficult as it was billed. There's an 11%/1 mile hill near my house that I trained on a few times, and it wasn't as bad as that.


After "the wall", it didn't seem very long before we were at the food stop for the day, at Fort Langley (mile 38). We grabbed a bagel, some cookies, and a cup of fresh blueberries. We also ran into the entire training group, who apparently stop frequently when not "burning daylight". Must be that whole tortoise/hare thing.



Next, we took the ferry across a river. You end up waiting for the ferry for 15 minutes or so, but then the crew load cyclists in the back, and it's a short and pleasant ride across.


The next stretch was pleasant, flat farmland planted mostly as berries of one sort or another. Strange was the constant gunshot sounds, which I later figured to be noisemakers to keep the birds off the fruit. Reassured that we weren't under fire, we pressed on.

We refilled water bottles at the mini stop at Port Moody (mile 60). I didn't make it a mile away from the stop before I picked up a staple in my rear tire. We found a shady tree and put a new tube in the rear. In my fatigue and haste, I did not properly seat the tube near the valve, and it blew with a loud report after having rolled maybe six feet. Many expletives, Kevin's spare tube and a total of 1 hour lost (between the water stop and two flats), we were rolling again.

The route then puts you on Highway 7A. This was the low point for day 2, for me anyway. After all the delays in Port Moody, this stretch of road was noisy, boring, and had a fair amount of broken glass along the wide shoulder we were riding. I was completely paranoid about getting another flat. The sun was well out at this point too, so the misery index was fairly high. This highway ends as a major boulevard, where you have to make a left hand turn onto Hastings Street. There were maybe 10 cyclists standing in the left-turn lane, but we could not trip the signal for a left turn, and the oncoming traffic was brisk. After sitting through 3 complete cycles with no luck, we ended up recruiting a pickup truck further back in line. By bunching all the bikes together, we managed to convince the truck driver that we needed his vehicle to trigger the left turn light, and that we weren't a biker gang looking to mug him (believe it or not, this took a couple of minutes of pleading). Light changed, cheers heard, and we're off again.

At this point, you begin a series of rolling hills into Vancouver proper. As you crest each hill in these neighborhoods, you can see the skyline of Vancouver approaching a little closer, then you drop down and don't see anything for a bit. These residential streets are designated bike ways, however, and you don't have to negotiate much traffic, except at major road crossings.

At mile 76, you enter Chinatown, and you know you are really close. There's a fair amount of traffic, but it's visually exciting after a long ride. Then it's up over a bridge on Main Street, and suddenly the highrises of Vancouver are all around you. A great moment, to be sure.

The route winds it's way along the waterfront walkway, which is very crowded with mid-day pedestrians that couldn't care less that you just rode 187 miles. A few city streets later and you make the final right-hander onto Bidwell Street, where the "finish line" and the Coast Plaza hotel are located.

Kevin and I were greeted by our wives with a full "Tour de France" welcome, complete with trophies, sunflowers, and stuffed animals.

The RSVP finish line is actually one volunteer, directing you into the parking garage. We went upstairs long enough to say hello to friends, grab a free beer, souvineer mug and patch, and leave the "too-loud" band behind.

We had a WONDERFUL dinner at the India Gate restaurant, and slept hard at Bosman's Motel, a couple of miles away from the Coast Plaza. We missed the party, and the fireworks, but didn't care much about missing either.

It was a wonderful ride, many highs and many lows. Most rewarding was having done it, after setting the goal so many months before. I learned a lot about myself, cycling, and friendship. Many thanks to Kevin for sticking with me, and pulling me through the hard miles. Thanks to our wives, for the wonderful reception at the finish line. Last but not least, thanks to #377, your see-through shorts were very entertaining.

|||112550414596371217|||Ride from Seattle to Vancouver 2005 - Day 2