John’s Ramblings

This was my second year to partake of the great hospitality and empty roads that are the Century Ride of the Centuries, aka “CROC”. The ride seems to be a joint effort of the local Chamber of Commerce and the town’s bicycle club, Pendleton on Wheels.

Learning from my mistakes from the prior year, I took time off from work on the Friday before and Tuesday following Memorial Day weekend in order to lessen the time I sat in holiday traffic. This move is highly recommended if you can afford it, as I hear folks spend an extra 2 hours sitting on I-90 on the way home this year, a 50% increase over the “standard” Seattle-Pendleton travel time.

CROC does not mail any information to you ahead of the ride, other than a confirmation email saying “you’re in”. Friday night there is a registration reception. This is useful in order to get your maps and background info on the routes. There is also a slide show presentation given by the organizers, but I found that the handouts in the registration packet explained all the routes and activities in adequate detail. The Friday meeting is totally optional, as you can pick up your materials on Saturday morning at the start line for day 1. At a maximum of 250 riders, crowd management is only a problem at the buffet table after the 100 miles.

The day started out cool, but warmed up quickly and I was shedding arm and leg warmers after about 10 miles. The organizers have taken the temperature swings into account, and you can bag-and-tag clothing at just about any rest stop, and they will see to it that it gets back to the start line or finish line by the end of the day. The first stop was a Wild West Outpost theme, complete with wagon (sans horse). I dropped my warmers and vest at this stop, and we headed west up the Umatilla River.

My riding partner Kevin made the trip as well this year, kicking some serious John-butt on his new Seven ID8. Kevin has fully embraced the mental discipline of climbing hills on a bicycle, and is far less gravitationally-challenged than I. Thus, when the pavement pitches up more than a couple of degrees, this is my usual vantage point, watching him accelerate while I decelerate. I have a few years and a few pounds on Kevin. Nothing I can do about the years, and I’m working on that other thing.

After about 16 miles of winding your way up a beautiful agricultural valley with sights of rock formations, the river, wildlife, and the occasional freight train you hit rest stop #2. The theme of this rest stop is Hawaii, specifically “Kamoniwannaleiu”. There was the usual array of snacks, and the ever present baked potatoes. This was the turnaround point for the metric century (63 miles total). The folks shooting for around 100 miles continue on through several little towns, heading north toward the Columbia River.

Stop #3 was at Hat Rock State Park. The theme of this stop was M*A*S*H, complete with a canvas tent for the goodies and the volunteers wearing hospital scrubs.

It was after this rest stop that the pavement started to do a lot more of that “up” stuff that I’m so fond of. It was also at the peak of the heat of the afternoon. The peak outside temperature reading on my Polar heart rate monitor was 102, although the average for the day was 81. Kevin got plenty of time to practice his track-standing technique as I plodded my way up hill and roller.

The last stop of the day was at Bonnie and Clyde’s hideout. “Bonnie” is Sue Petersen, who was the mastermind behind creating themed rest stops. Perhaps more significantly, she’s able to convince her husband each year that the finest thing they could do on a Saturday is to dress up in costumes and mix Gatorade all day.
After a couple more rolling hills, we had a long fast descent into the town of Pendleton, then a 1 mile climb back to the vicinity of our hotel. 97 miles, 3,219 feet of climbing for the day.

Dinner on Saturday is a large banquet, featuring lasagne, salmon fettucine, and a bunch of other stuff I never saw because I was too busy eating lasagne. Entertainment was once again the Generations Native American dance group, who really put on a splendid show of traditional singing, drumming, and dancing. Highlight of the show for me was little Ellie-Mae, who was so painfully shy last year but danced tall and proud this year, arms holding her shawl spread like the wings of a bird.

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