tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75089325518683893812024-03-13T22:24:13.415-07:00The Puyallup Cyclopaths BlogA blog for and by a group of certifiable and committed cyclists (aka, Cyclopaths) from the Puyallup, Tacoma, and Seattle area. Follow The Puyallup Cyclopaths' adventures as they ride in the mountains of the Northwest and beyond.Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.comBlogger303125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-34182467578952724892023-09-19T19:26:00.002-07:002023-09-20T15:43:08.220-07:002023-09-09: Les Becker's LOTOJA 2023 Experience<p><b> LoToJa 2023</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">When I first heard about <a href="http://LoToJa.com" target="_blank">LoToJa</a>, the ride from Logan, Utah
to Jackson, Wyoming, it was intriguing, but in my mind was a non-starter due to
the magnitude. It is 207 miles long with 8,800 feet of climbing, like a RAMROD
and STP combined. But as I have done more riding in Utah and meeting other
riders here, I have learned that it is the iconic ride of the area. It began in
1983 when two riders in Logan wanted a race that resembled the difficult
European classics. One of them was the owner of Sunrise Cyclery in Logan and
the starting line is still in front of that shop. I think he is still the
owner. So it grew in popularity and now it is a USAC-sanctioned race for about
half of the 1500 participants and the rest are Cyclosportive riders, like me,
distributed into age categories. As the web site states “Cyclists must conquer
three mountain passes as they pedal through scenic terrain in Utah, Idaho and
Wyoming en route to a finish line below the rugged Tetons at the base of
Jackson Hole Mountain Resort.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BshdS4Q44UECOo-8ty14LrYcUwO2nATt4EWqfU4q5WNKtyBO-Elq3fyMPhNgDSuHslT_wdLv9qhdkF34nQ_AybKcu-VLaIN1NkPH9Vz6MgSqCUuAV_0yQXA3NrtbrZ2b6z3cKWzs5XKAgqblbckDRs5j-ExlNInT_lwNf086dqo2pnL0CZTlL1yx4K5v/s3538/IMG_4253.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3023" data-original-width="3538" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BshdS4Q44UECOo-8ty14LrYcUwO2nATt4EWqfU4q5WNKtyBO-Elq3fyMPhNgDSuHslT_wdLv9qhdkF34nQ_AybKcu-VLaIN1NkPH9Vz6MgSqCUuAV_0yQXA3NrtbrZ2b6z3cKWzs5XKAgqblbckDRs5j-ExlNInT_lwNf086dqo2pnL0CZTlL1yx4K5v/s320/IMG_4253.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunrise Cyclery, Logan, UT</div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Two years ago I began to wonder if I could possibly do this
massive ride. There were many challenges to consider. Conditioning was just
one. Also, they recommend personal support crews to meet their riders at the
feed zones for quick hand-offs of food and drink. I didn’t have this and didn’t
know if the neutral support tables would be adequate/efficient. Also, how do I return
to Logan after finishing? There is no shuttle. And would this ride fit with my
family’s schedule for being in Utah? After much contemplation, I pulled the
trigger and began training and planning in 2022 for the event which is always
the first Saturday after Labor Day. I planned on RAMROD and Rainiering to be
good training rides for LoToJa, and preparation was progressing. Unfortunately,
I cra***ed on RAMROD sustaining a couple stable pelvic fractures. Those healed
uneventfully but the really awful neck, hip and back pains, which were largely
an activation of existing arthritis took a lot of time and PT for recovery. It
was two months before I could ride again and then I wasn’t sure if I would ever
become flexible and pain-free enough on the bike to ride intensely. Through the
winter I slowly improved and began Cyclopath riding again in early 2023. I saw
a podiatrist for my Morton’s Neuroma in my right foot and got good inserts and
bought wider bike shoes. My dry eye syndrome sometimes stings to degree that I
have to stop my bike and apply drops. I saw an ophthalmologist, got some good
advice and prescription drops. And my conditioning began to improve. So, hey, should
I try LoToJa again this year? I sent in the registration fee again (prior fee
non-refundable/non-forwardable…ugh) and began preparing. Then, in April, a
large pick-up truck rear ended Cindy, reactivating severe low back pain that
had been treated with major back surgery a few years ago. So the pain and
anxiety with driving, especially unfamiliar mountain roads, prevented her from
picking me up at the finish line in Jackson. So LoToJa became just a dream, not
to be. But I kept riding just because it’s fun. Then our daughter, Molly, who
lives in Utah, offered she and our grandson, Carter to be the driver and pick
me up in Jackson. It would also give them some time looking around Jackson and
seeing this stunning outdoor scenery. Hooray, back on schedule. I just felt bad that Cindy wouldn't be waiting at the finish line for me as she so wanted. In August, the
10,000 feet ride with Mike and Rainiering ride with Mike and Tom Gorczynski
were key to getting me ready for the climbs in the Rockies. Conversations with riders I've met in the SLC area were helpful. And Rob Critchfield happened to be in Utah visiting family so was able to meet with me a week prior and gave me a detailed review of the ride as he had experienced riding it several times in the past. That was very helpful also.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhED0DSyqKu_lg5hn1R5FVc2CR9pCaK_xH08Dqko55Kw0t0X_ekXLIuviKl2n4f9myvIx933A-RrSUPXd59iWPt5b39z3ckUO_PkKJMPaguk5PH_aNERZGdokx6ROTainNJBQtvGQx1UP0YSL4tvSn4xdw8lFH979OlvyOL-jrkM0K2br4W6UGvUtbTdTY4/s3088/IMG_4257.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhED0DSyqKu_lg5hn1R5FVc2CR9pCaK_xH08Dqko55Kw0t0X_ekXLIuviKl2n4f9myvIx933A-RrSUPXd59iWPt5b39z3ckUO_PkKJMPaguk5PH_aNERZGdokx6ROTainNJBQtvGQx1UP0YSL4tvSn4xdw8lFH979OlvyOL-jrkM0K2br4W6UGvUtbTdTY4/s320/IMG_4257.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Me at start line.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Standing at the start line in Logan at dawn on September 9<sup>th</sup>
with hundreds of other riders gave me nervous anticipation. Waiting to be
called into the chute with my ride category, I realized that any one of the
many obstacles during planning and training that I dealt with could have
brought this whole endeavor to an end. I felt an overwhelming peace that all
these issues had worked out to get me here, especially the people close to me
who helped so much. In a sense, I’d already met my goal, just to be placed here
with this opportunity. My Garmin read 52 deg suggesting I should have worn long
sleeve base, but I didn’t feel cold, so was wearing short base, short sleeve
jersey & arm warmers with vest in pocket just in case. Our 65+ group of
about 15 was released into neutral roll-out at 7:02. I anticipated a slow pace
with these “old guys.” Wrong, the paceline was sometimes uncomfortably fast.
Soon it evolved into a longer paceline; not sure where the others came from,
but seemed loose with mini gaps so I stayed in front 10 or so just to prevent
being gapped & dropped. That meant I did at least my share of pulls.
Arrived at Preston, at 47 miles and rode past the feed zone as planned without
stopping. A few big rollers lead to the long<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>2600 foot climb up through Idaho wilderness to Strawberry Pass. This was
the largest climb of the ride, but the grade was typically 4-5%. This was not
stressful especially since my last training rides involved a lot of 10% around
Sandy, Utah. On the descent I grabbed onto a group of 4 racers (I think cat 4
racers who dropped off their group drifted back) who went really fast downhill,
then into rollers. I got tired so dropped off. Was probably a mistake as I had
to ride a lot of solo after that into Montpelier.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was my first food stop and where I had a drop bag sent.
I emptied my pockets and drop bag into a pile and put all the Nature’s Bakery
bars into the drop bag to be sent to the finish since I was finding them hard
to swallow with a dry mouth with the temps now in upper 70’s. I put all the
Quaker 100cal bars and gel packs, ones I brought and ones from the food table,
into my pockets. Another good decision. Traffic control was superb and
somewhere past Montpelier after approximately 80 miles was the first time I had
to pause for a stop sign or signal light. Soon I was riding up Geneva Summit, a
1,000 ft climb. Next was the last and toughest climb, 1400 ft up Salt River
Pass, elevation 7630 ft which had plenty of 8% grade in unshielded <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>80 deg sun. I passed a number of struggling
riders here. When I heard heavy breathing and saw a vacant agonized, look on
their face I would ask if they were OK. This reminded me of Cayuse Pass. It
then dropped down to the town of Afton and a feed zone. I don’t recall stopping
there, but I must have picked up some more gel packs. What followed was my
least favorite section of LoToJa. The 34 miles to Alpine followed US 89 through
Star Valley, rural nondescript agricultural land with many trucks and farm
related businesses along the very straight busy highway, with jarring rumble
strips in places. I rode a guy’s wheel for about half of this and solo’d into
cross winds the rest of it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A few general notes. Starting temp was 52 deg but didn’t
feel real cold so I bravely wore just short sleeve base with short sleeve
Cyclopath Jersey, vest and arm warmers. This was a good choice and I ditched
the arm warmers & vest in the drop bag in Montpelier. Subsequently almost
over-heated in 80 deg on Salt River Pass but crested the top just before got in
trouble. Regarding food, I mentioned dry mouth and settling on just Quaker bars
and gels. I resupplied a few times with Hammer gel packs from feed zones..
Hydration included a couple bottles of Skratch from small packets I carried but
was mostly Hammer Heed from feed zones and I didn’t cramp. I did see many of
the racers and two or three times I fell into a group, usually drafting from
the back so not to interfere. I’m not sure where they came from as I thought
they were all released prior to me, but probably some cat 5’s had drifted back.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzI1BlF-HwKcdo-yltGkKGo1rG9aqBSV-4WODUcOO3kCnQpn2W7qOnSo3PVTP59J9Bp3Xp6cCsAnxH3ZXO6CQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just prior to rolling into Alpine, Molly texted me saying
she was driving back to Alpine from Jackson. At the time I couldn’t respond
without losing a wheel. Did she think I was done in and needed a ride?
Forty-seven miles separated me from the finish line, but I felt quite up to it
and when I got to Alpine called Molly with my intentions. After grabbing some
hydration and gel packs from the neutral feed, I headed out of town and soon
saw Molly & Carter waving at me from a roadside parking area. It was quite
reassuring as they cheered me on. From here the terrain changed dramatically
into pure majestic wilderness. The Snake River was in a deep gorge below and
tall forested or rocky peaks on both sides gave shady relief. The two-lane
winding highway had new, smooth pavement with ample shoulders, although the
traffic was sparse. From here on, the grade was gentle uphill with some level.
Most of this I rode solo and the bike rolled at a good clip without too much
effort. Molly & Carter pulled over at a couple viewpoints overlooking the
river and cheered me again as I rode by. I was so thankful for their support.
This was the most enjoyable, rewarding part of the ride for me. Then about 8
miles from the finish, a volunteer support person was handing out bottles of
Coke on the fly and of course I grabbed one. But that was a mistake since I
really couldn’t drink Coke while riding and half of it ended up as a sticky
mess on my cockpit. A brief view of the Tetons presented itself on the final
stretch toward Teton Village, the finish line. By then I was in a group of
equally satisfied riders with lots of spirited chatting. Crossing under the
finish arch, I almost wished it wasn’t over. Total ride time 12 hr, 44 min
which was 4<sup>th</sup> out of the cumulative 21 riders in groups of 55+ yrs
and up. Goal accomplished.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxfymjGSbvnxinbUdQJsx7FjlERwNtTxbSv3u_7vAHAWq29e_3Rx1bRtlI12z0CCP6-3lclLQAWE79sSsASUg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKto4P-pRwq6_O_OXNj_i7dqb5PxrJI18OrcP4vzw54vQfzmiV_etYi6iR1Tzvk2MKNI2Bo01b_YcNYt152v-ePmRlMxcb38zSHHbTYuU_Hwps5TWo-3YA_RORGOmoY9PKFOlL1oEafrmYV-Sufi-w14iqiY-Pu9IIJGj5Vfx3fn-y9PYRbwC8iTJXy5w/s2217/LoToJa%20Finish%20edit.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1715" data-original-width="2217" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKto4P-pRwq6_O_OXNj_i7dqb5PxrJI18OrcP4vzw54vQfzmiV_etYi6iR1Tzvk2MKNI2Bo01b_YcNYt152v-ePmRlMxcb38zSHHbTYuU_Hwps5TWo-3YA_RORGOmoY9PKFOlL1oEafrmYV-Sufi-w14iqiY-Pu9IIJGj5Vfx3fn-y9PYRbwC8iTJXy5w/w412-h319/LoToJa%20Finish%20edit.jpg" width="412" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Reflections after a ride like this always involve analysis
of whether and where I went too fast or too slow. I never felt totally spent
like happens on RAMROD, so perhaps could have gone faster. Bottom line, though,
is I really enjoyed this very well organized ride and finished before dark, so
was a success.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Safe riding,<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Les<o:p></o:p></p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-36510968552933899822023-06-18T08:28:00.002-07:002023-06-18T08:31:46.780-07:00Volunteer Park Criterium Race Recap - By Dwaine<p>Getting to the venue was my first challenge of the day. I had never been to Volunteer Park and parked way to far away. I was feeling rushed when I finally arrived at our Fell Swoop team tent. There was just enough time to talk race strategy and take a short warm up ride with Jonas who knew his way around the neighborhood. </p><p></p><p>The course is not your typical four corner crit. Except for the finish straight, the course is always winding and includes a long and shallow descent followed by a long and shallow climb. Z-Dog informed me my bike handling skills would pay dividends.<br /><br />Our field, Men's 35+ cat 3/4, was only about 25 deep. Teammates shared with me that this would make moving up the field easier than if we were in a 40 rider field. Our start was mellow enough but my first lap was, at times, harrowing. The racing line was starting to dry but, on my first lap, I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time on at least two occasions. Disaster was avoided and on subsequent laps my line choices proved immensely safer.<br /><br />Fell Swoop showed up with five riders total. We were all in on working for our designated leader, Z-Dog. Our job was to help him facilitate his best possible finish. Sticking to our race plan I followed a couple moves during the race. But nothing threatening ever came together. It was especially nice seeing other Fell Swoopers ready to patrol the front after I made these efforts and needed a few minutes catching my breath.<br /><br />At about nine laps to go I finished a short effort to close a gap and realized my heart rate was higher than I hoped. For the next six laps I shrunk myself as best I could and hid within the wheels. <br /><br />My job, for the finish, was to assemble three Swoopers on my wheel and then take them to the the front. At the end of the 'three to go' lap I found Z-Dog. I then yelled up to Juaquin, who was ahead of me, to slow down. At that moment the fifteen riders in front of me seemed to sit up and I was able to move Z-dog and myself forward within the peleton. <br /><br />As we started the flat finish straight I could see the gap I needed to lead us through. It was tight and I may have bumped another rider. He certainly wasn't happy about my proximity and I felt a big shove forward. I yelled 'thanks' and put down a steady effort that took me forward. I yelled at Juaquin to assemble behind me as I took over the front. <br /><br />In the moment I was quite pleased with putting myself and my team mates exactly where we planned to be. This same lap was also a $20 Taco Time gift card prime lap and I accidently won that too. <br /><br />For the next three quarters of a lap I lead the race and put in just enough effort to keep the field strung out. I checked over my should down the hill and could see Juaquin's Fell Swoop jersey on my wheel. I just hoped there were two more Swoopers on his wheel. At the base of the climb I put down some real power, burnt all the matches, and flicked my elbow before reaching the flat. The peleton stormed by and I smiled knowing my domestique duties were well fulfilled.<br /><br />The results will show me DFL. The results will not show how much fun this race was. Nor will it show how well we raced as a team. Not a single rider got off the front without a Fell Swooper in tow. An admittedly partial spectator, Z-Dog's girlfriend KT, complimented our team tactics. <br /><br />And how did our team do on that last lap? In the moment I was so far back I couldn't even see the finish. I had to wait to hear the stories from the other Swoopers to learn how the final lap turned out. Juaquin put in a big effort on that final lap but it was no good. Jonas and Z-Dog had gotten separated from Juaquin at some point and Z-Dog was only able to sprint to about tenth place.<br /><br />In summary, except for the final lap, it was a near perfect day of racing with my Fell Swoop teammates.</p>Dwainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00091932162164753519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-21579892937374810222023-05-25T14:27:00.000-07:002023-05-25T14:27:24.486-07:002023-05-21 Gran Fondo Leavenworth (Dwaine's Account) <span style="font-family: arial;">Author: Dwaine Trummert</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #f48d1d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 22px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; position: relative;">Gran Fondo Leavenworth 2023</h3><div class="post-header" style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-1435371475932760481" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 716px;"><div style="text-align: left;">Leavenworth was my 'A' race for this Spring. My training was tailored for this event, and I had a strong desire </div><div style="text-align: left;">to right the wrong that I created last year at this race. My racing team "Fell Swoop" was well represented with</div><div style="text-align: left;">five riders of varying abilities.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The weather was warm, and I started in my summer kit. A third water bottle containing three scoops of Tailwind </div><div style="text-align: left;">drink powder - but no water - was tucked into my back pocket. The neutral roll out seemed slower than usual this </div><div style="text-align: left;">year, and I planned to stick next to team mates Thomas and Josh. That plan ended when I needed to stop and </div><div style="text-align: left;">dismount after my chain dropped on the first shift of the day. I spent the next four miles inching my way forward </div><div style="text-align: left;">in the slowly crawling peleton.</div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;">As we approached Eagle Creek road, I advised Josh on how the race promoter Jake would honk the horn on </div><div style="text-align: left;">his big BMW motorcycle to release us. I was rewarded for my helpful advice. The right shoulder opened up </div><div style="text-align: left;">before me, and I glided up to the front row just as we were let loose. I waited for two riders to take charge and </div><div style="text-align: left;">then I latched on. This excellent position allowed me to sag climb the first few rolling hills.</div><p></p><p>The pace started hotter than previous years. I was spending too much time over threshold and dropped myself before the road turned to gravel. After the race Thomas informed me why the pace started so high. Pro cyclist Cole Paton was setting pace on the front. He eventually broke free, rode solo, and finished first by 24 minutes. Letting that go was the right choice for me!<br /><br />Anthony gave me a wheel to ride until the road turned to dirt and then he wished me good luck. Like Anthony, I set my own pace on the climb and it was taken without drama. On the first half of the climb, I lost a few positions. On the second half, I made up some positions.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-s7j8Rcf/0/L/i-s7j8Rcf-L.jpg" style="color: #f48d1d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="799" height="427" src="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-s7j8Rcf/0/L/i-s7j8Rcf-L.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></a></div><p> </p><p>The steep part of the descent also unfolded without drama. My forearms felt like I found every stutter bump in the road, but the rubber side stayed down. A new rattle, coming from the back end of my Hakka MX, made itself known. I chose not to stop but did give the rear thru axle a look to make sure it wasn't backing out. Once the road flattened a bit I started putting down some power. Moving up the field on the dirt would allow me to lock into a faster group on the pavement.<br /><br />I took the right turn onto the paved Mad River road at full tilt. While the riders around me sat up to look around, I got into the drops. I saw two strong looking riders up the road and put in some work to bridge up to them. I made the catch, and the three of us quickly dropped into rotation. This group grew to about ten by the time we reached the Entiat aid station.<br /><br />I'm never the strongest pedaler in a bicycle race. So I have to be crafty and make FAST pit stops. At the Entiat aid station, I needed to fill the two bottles on my bike and the third in my back pocket. As we approached, I moved to the front of our group and rode straight to the water jugs. While nine other riders waited in the water line, I was already soft pedalling toward Swakane Canyon.<br /><br />Entiat to Swakane Canyon is ideal for working together in a paceline. I rode slowly letting riders catch me until we had three. My team mate Josh was one of the riders to join me. He took the first pull, and it was long. Thanks man!<br /><br />What hasn't been written about the Swakane Canyon climb? It is THE defining feature of Gran Fondo Leavenworth. It is hot and dusty and rocky at the bottom. The climbs pitch up and then down. No rhythm can be found. I let the riders around me go up the road. As with most years, I walked the steepest pitch and do not regret that decision. My long hours of training this Winter and Spring started to pay near the top. I was able to maintain my modest power output despite the fatigue. Riders were finally coming back to me.<br /><br />The final mile of the climb is prime time for cramping. Somehow, I crested just as my cramps arrived. Each time I used my legs to absorb the bumps on the descent, I could feel the cramp twinges coming on - but this I could manage. My descending speed was impacted at first but at least I was still moving. By this point the rattle on my bike was near constant, but everything was working so I raced on.</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-b3XVM86/0/X2/i-b3XVM86-X2.jpg" style="color: #f48d1d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="427" src="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-b3XVM86/0/X2/i-b3XVM86-X2.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></a></div><p> </p><p>When the descent turned from winding to straight, it was time to find a dance partner. Richard Beukema passed me, and he looked like a good wheel to follow. Once on the pavement, Richard started working. I took a few turns on the front but was clearly not at his level. Our group eventually grew to four. By the time we passed the Old Mill Tavern before the final right turn under the railroad tracks, we had agreed not to sprint to the finish line. We took our positions based on who did the most work. Richard was in front. I assumed third wheel in the group and was scored 23rd.<br /><br />After I crossed the line, I waited for Josh to finish. I was pleased to be ahead of Josh, but that was enabled only by the MTB race he completed the previous day. I also took a moment to find my rattle. My cassette was coming loose!<br /><br />Over the next 24 hours, I looked back at my day. On one hand, I was pleased with my performance. I had certain tools available. My bike, my knowledge of the course, and my fitness. On race day, I think I put those tools to work as well as was possible. On the other hand, I wasn't that pleased with my performance. I took a pretty big swing at increasing my training this year without measurable improvement. This year's finish time ranked third of the four times I've completed this course.<br /><br />Overall, Gran Fondo Leavenworth was a spectacular day. Fell Swoopers rode strong and placed well. We had great weather, great organization by Jake and his team, and a course that never fails to challenge. I'd like to write more, but I need to get to the garage and tighten up some drivetrain parts...</p></div></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-89727629270254110692023-05-03T15:08:00.001-07:002023-05-03T15:09:41.122-07:002023 Cascadia Super Gravel - by Dwaine<p>Last Saturday with Tom and my Fell Swoop teammate Josh and I raced the 100 mile Cascadia Super Gravel. We started at 7 a.m. under clear skies and not too chilly temperatures. Josh was racing with his friend Jason and they wanted to start a little faster than I did. I let them go early and hoped to eventually work my way back up to them. Tom and I were about the same speed and stayed within a minute of each other for the first hour.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://dgtzuqphqg23d.cloudfront.net/KWU_F6JfZ7MixcHwaDL_m5LnksIc3PvVy-X-kIJF6a0-1536x2048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://dgtzuqphqg23d.cloudfront.net/KWU_F6JfZ7MixcHwaDL_m5LnksIc3PvVy-X-kIJF6a0-1536x2048.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh and Dwaine _before_ the long suffer.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />My plan to eventually reel in Josh was foiled at mile fifteen when my rear tire went soft after I nicked the sidewall. I stopped to add air a couple times hoping the sealant might eventually clog the hole but on my third stop I knew I needed to invest the time to install a tube. <br /><br />Once back underway I figured my race was over. I had lost over twenty minutes with the multiple stops. I resigned myself to the fact I was on a really long training ride. To motiviate myself I started counting how many riders I could catch and pass.<br /><br />At mile 29 I crested the highest climb of the day and was still feeling great. I was concerned that the steep final pitches of this climb might push me into the red but my legs were taking the effort in stride.<br /><br />There was a navigational problem at mile 37. My Garmin instructed me to make a hard right onto a climb. But there were 'wrong way' signs on this climb. A few other riders were also confused at these signs. After a quick survey of the situation I announced I was going to trust my Garmin and I started up the climb. I quickly came to course markers showing I was on course. As I climbed I thought through the situation and came to the conclusion that some prankster had rearranged the signs just to create mayhem. <br /><br />The next ten miles were lonely. From mile 15 to 37 I had caught 15 riders. From mile 37 to 50 I caught zero. <br /><br />But daydreaming while riding was not wise. The promoter of this event had created a route using many of the less frequently ridden roads. I learned it was best to keep a very close eye on the Garmin map for unexpected turns.<br /><br />I finally caught sight of another rider as we approached the long hike-a-bike section at mile 50. I was surprised at the length of the hike-a-bike. Strava reports I was at walking speed for about 14 minutes. The hike-a-bike was good for my catch score. I passed two at the beginning, one of which was Tom, and three more as we emerged from the woods onto the A-line climb.<br /><br />As I approached the aid station at mile 67 I was really pleased that my legs were still putting out decent power. My stomach wasn't so happy with how many carbs I was shoving down my throat. My catch count had climbed into the low twenties. And it was getting warm.<br /><br />Miles 67 to 75 were lovely. It was generally downhill. I couldn't add to my catch count as the course was shared with riders racing the 50 mile event. But I could at least say 'Hi' every once in a while.<br /><br />At mile 75 the 100 mile course turned West onto the paved D-line road and I was riding solo again. My stomach was really starting to grumble. I kept stuffing the food in anyway.<br /><br />The fatigue finally caught up with me at mile 85. After almost eight hours I started to loose steam. I chose to walk a couple of the steepest pitches. I cut my final food ration by half hoping to make a truce with my angry gut. <br /><br />I wasn't the only rider suffering in these final miles. I managed to put three more riders behind me between mile 85 and 95 bringing my total to 26.<br /><br />At mile 95 we were back on a short stretch of pavement that lead to one more gravel climb and the single track finish. I had only a thirty second gap on my previous catch which provided the motivation to keep pushing all the way to the finish line. I crossed that line after 8 hours 57 minutes. I was pleased as punch with this time.<br /><br />After finding fresh clothes I sat down and chatted with Josh and Jason. I hadn't seen them since the start but it sounded like they had a great race. Josh even admitted to accepting some of the Bacon that was being cooked at the mile 67 aid station. They finished four seconds apart in 8 hours 42 minutes. Josh was scored eleventh and Jason twelfth. I was not scored at all but my time would have put me in thirteenth. <br /><br />I waited for quite a while for Tom to finish only to find out he took a nasty fall and then a trip to the hospital. So while I had a good day on the bike, as a whole, the Cyclopaths did not.<br /><br /><br /></p><br />Dwainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00091932162164753519noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-38528793676590558322023-03-27T09:56:00.034-07:002023-03-29T10:08:59.096-07:0003-19-2023 - Ephrata Gran Fondo Race Recap<p><span style="font-family: arial;"> Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I had a good day at Ephreta this year. My race recap will not cover</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">every detail but instead the key moments.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I positioned myself near the front as the neutral roll out ended so that I</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">could sag the climb a bit. I chose to push the climb a little harder</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">than previous years and was flirting with blowing up at times. I</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">maintained a respectable pace but could see many riders floating up the</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">road without me. I finished the final climb with my heart rate pegged</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">hoping I could hide in the wheels of the good sized group I was with.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Nope. I dropped myself from these riders to get my heart rate under</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">control and latched onto the next wheel that came by.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The downhill Baird Springs Road gravel was fast and dry. My group had</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">grown to four, and we took turns pulling down the hill and were making</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">good time. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Along the highway, our group eventually doubled in size as we picked up a</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">few more riders including my teammate Alan.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">No one in our group pulled off for the rest stop at the base of</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Palisades Road. Another group latched on and we were soon numbering</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">nearly 20. Our paceline was long as we took turns pulling into the</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">slight headwind up the false flat of Palisades road.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Our group of 20 gentlemen was blown to bits on the first pitch of the</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Three Devils. Some riders dropped anchor, and some flew off the front. I</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">ended up near two riders who had shown they were strong and consistent,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">and the three of us ground our way to the top. We chatted a bit once we</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">were back to flattish ground. I introduced myself to Lindsay and Graham,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">and we took turns into the wind for the next ten miles or so. We also</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">agreed on a one bottle stop at the "mile 60" aid station.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">About 20 miles from the finish and just as we turned back onto gravel, my</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">legs started barking. I told the guys I had to skip a turn - then</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">another. Soon, it was all I could do to hold the wheel. The next 45</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">minutes, I was head down and full suffer.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Amazingly I didn't get dropped on the final climb. We had picked up two</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">more riders, and all five of us shared the work back to the finish line.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">We crossed the line in a group, and I was scored 27th out of over 200</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">riders.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">With the help of many strong riders in good sized groups, I was able to</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">lower my personal best finish time by about 10 minutes. I set many</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Strava segment PRs along the way including up the first set of climbs. I</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">also felt that this event was the most work I've ever done. There were</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">no lulls in the pace. It felt like it was 'Go, Go, Go' all day long. My</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">legs were rubber.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The weekend was capped off with an unofficial Fell Swoop team dinner in</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Ephreta where five of us told our stories and filled our bellies with</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Mexican food. Good times.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /><a href="https://www.markalanphoto.co/Fondos/Ephrata-Gran-Fondo-2023/Grande/i-XLfMg36/A"><span style="font-family: arial;">Race Photo (Dwaine second from right)</span></a></p><div class="yj6qo" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-75867769686535389402022-11-24T09:41:00.112-08:002022-11-27T10:20:15.973-08:00Disappointment, Redemption, Cyclocross Celebration<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"> Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This blog post ends with the the grandest Cyclocross event on the Pacific Northwest calendar - but the month leading into that event was anything but grand.<br /><br />A month ago, I competed at Fort Steilacoom Park. My on-the-bike performance was on par for me. My performance on the extended length run up could not have been more poor. Lap two was my worst. I lost seven positions at the top of the run. My nearly DFL finish forced me to ask the question 'What went wrong?' I sat on the floor of my van and pondered my preparation.<br /><br />This year's training plan for pedaling strength was solid. Yet, I forgot to add any running work into my schedule. For most of the year, I was able to hide my weakness when the run up was short or rideable. Fort Steilacoom Park showed my running legs for what they were. </span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVG-vGJRcRBemFQ-IVX5pR3se8d5LU1_xysqMYmfiniLVb1qDrC6ezrG-hTwEBs4XQ-t6JgIkEJgVMoQofylocV9hZhhm_kq9w6f1dudHbZIrdS9ChKYiLDC1heT27ipdkuPFU3DvWe1apxirDLjMnFVoOJxDzwuDL2ddlooqZO_oSHbOF9UZDp4Bg/s3840/i-HX6cm8R-4K.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="3840" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVG-vGJRcRBemFQ-IVX5pR3se8d5LU1_xysqMYmfiniLVb1qDrC6ezrG-hTwEBs4XQ-t6JgIkEJgVMoQofylocV9hZhhm_kq9w6f1dudHbZIrdS9ChKYiLDC1heT27ipdkuPFU3DvWe1apxirDLjMnFVoOJxDzwuDL2ddlooqZO_oSHbOF9UZDp4Bg/w640-h426/i-HX6cm8R-4K.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It wa snot my best day at the run up. I suffered. And still earned an 'F'.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />In the moment, sulking on the van floor, I knew it was too late in the season to add much running fitness. I felt sad to have spent so much effort on a training plan that was flawed and did not, and would not, allow me to race at my full potential. Disappointment.</span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br style="background-color: white;" /></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsC2bLyLXkrgczk1rYsWiVm4xm0uowvG2oTcVQWjng4UKrOz5L57AN51JwEcvEB_bpt1k0yEtE0AA5mkl7n-04Pw9wNMuZgizF77SwuPJR2tyJFOrgNWtpQoRYpTahs76fbQNkj7oLYsVDcf0bhWgbMVFc2Uk5LMuM7WEuqHyCV-7yFTVNVRXUNyYs/s3840/i-VrW4Tcb-4K.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="3840" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsC2bLyLXkrgczk1rYsWiVm4xm0uowvG2oTcVQWjng4UKrOz5L57AN51JwEcvEB_bpt1k0yEtE0AA5mkl7n-04Pw9wNMuZgizF77SwuPJR2tyJFOrgNWtpQoRYpTahs76fbQNkj7oLYsVDcf0bhWgbMVFc2Uk5LMuM7WEuqHyCV-7yFTVNVRXUNyYs/w640-h426/i-VrW4Tcb-4K.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My teammate Jonas shows proper composure and pace on the run up.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Going into the next race, I pivoted my approach. There was little point in sticking to a flawed training plan. I introduced variety into my training. Instead of structured threshold intervals, I would participate in a Zwift indoor cycling race. Out were the 30/30 intervals. In were the even more painful run up intervals. The Fort Steilacoom Park run up broke me on race day. I returned to the park to complete my intervals on the very same soil. I did not believe I could become a runner in two weeks. I did intend, however, to overcome the mental challenge that the run up posed.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Two weeks ago we raced near Graham. Frontier Park is not well liked in the cross community. It is often cold. The layout is uninspiring, but it's the rocks that create the negative vibes.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Despite this poor reputation, most everyone I chatted with said this was the best Frontier Park course in memory. The soil had the perfect amount of moisture. The rocks were less prominent. It was warm enough to feel our fingers and toes.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">My consistent attendance earned me a front row callup. I lined up next to Doug Graver. Without knowing it, two racers were intent on leading into the first corner and the subsequent single track sections. My jump off the line was perfect, and I pressed hard towards the first corner intent on the "hole shot". Doug knew the risk of being behind traffic in the single track and challenged me at corner one.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We squeaked safely through corner, one and I latched onto Doug's wheel entering corner two. We had a small gap into the tight single track and were able to choose our own lines.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I maintained this extraordinary effort for just the first 90 seconds of the race. When I dialed back down to a pace I could sustain for an hour, riders began to trickle past. </span></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivH7A-sq9RyKVlH0kbH_7xq6g3w6qbBMmdkd7_BOyxAedgrSbL9Fv9DB-ndI-i187fP6IlmwZyw9-MatUK0tElwAHb0WXyepW2vVRLmUxiJB1OjsQET2I45IyIulYjcL6PVv4v3ELCkwUKLG9GXGf19-R7Q7s1aPscsNDDfyIl0XaFn8nPz4QjU-o4/s5120/i-NFgw4gm-5K.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5120" data-original-width="3413" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivH7A-sq9RyKVlH0kbH_7xq6g3w6qbBMmdkd7_BOyxAedgrSbL9Fv9DB-ndI-i187fP6IlmwZyw9-MatUK0tElwAHb0WXyepW2vVRLmUxiJB1OjsQET2I45IyIulYjcL6PVv4v3ELCkwUKLG9GXGf19-R7Q7s1aPscsNDDfyIl0XaFn8nPz4QjU-o4/w426-h640/i-NFgw4gm-5K.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Riding my own pace. Hitting my lines. Keeping my good luck leaf at hand.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The remainder of the race was uneventful. Eventually, I faded back to mid pack. I kept my head down. For most of every lap, I was racing against the clock and my own fitness. For fifteen seconds of every lap, I was racing against the run up.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The Frontier Park run up was short and steep. On every lap, I gave everything I had. My choice was not tactical. I needed to experience run up success. I was clearing out the emotional residue from my previous run up defeat.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I finished well enough in tenth of twenty-three. More importantly, I didn't roll over at the run up; and my lap times were a bit ahead of my expectations. Redemption.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAOF1HaoC6olUS3kfDLmbpMf3cHD53E9-0y9dPLlUWP43zFTHKx44nEV098c65jGcIQovOok0NTuaOunCC6qr1QW3iFlBDDCG5ZFv12SV5S4Cu3Vpn_qJ1IB2qrNNPQyKjF9bEVKPHW433jgvlW_DW8KP4yXU2zXu1SF6wMrjASJLxAtE1f7AAARq/s1600/i-xqwv582-X3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAOF1HaoC6olUS3kfDLmbpMf3cHD53E9-0y9dPLlUWP43zFTHKx44nEV098c65jGcIQovOok0NTuaOunCC6qr1QW3iFlBDDCG5ZFv12SV5S4Cu3Vpn_qJ1IB2qrNNPQyKjF9bEVKPHW433jgvlW_DW8KP4yXU2zXu1SF6wMrjASJLxAtE1f7AAARq/w640-h426/i-xqwv582-X3.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My teammate Jonas had a good race and didn't even looked haggard in the process.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One week later, I raced at Woodland Park. MFG Cyclocross brought this party/race/event back after a one year hiatus, and it was highly billed. It was crazy how many fans and racers were in attendance. The single speed race had 120 starters. Other races included riders in costumes. There were even three tandem teams taking on the course.<br /><br />This link to some photos of the day might help communicate the atmosphere: <a href="https://mfgcyclocross.bike/mfg-6-the-finale-at-woodland-park-photoset/" style="text-decoration-line: none;">https://mfgcyclocross.bike/mfg-6-the-finale-at-woodland-park-photoset/</a><br /><br />I enjoyed the festive scene until my race time rolled around - and, then, I got to business.<br /><br />The Woodland Park dichotomy ensured I would experience both joy and anguish. I understood the need to burn the matches on the 'climbing up' half of the course. I relished the opportunity to rail the corners and rest on the 'descending down' half.<br /><br />My expectations were not high as I lined up on the third of three rows for the men's 50+ cat 1/2 start. I knew the start was already half way up the hard part of the course and recovery was near, so I chose to start burning matches from the whistle.<br /><br />I found myself about sixth into the first corner and held that position till the second of the camel humps at the top of the course. I was out of the saddle and feeling humiliated as the second hump humbled me for the first of many laps. After letting a handful of riders slip by, I completed the lap in eleventh position and just seven seconds behind the leader.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I could not sustain the effort and paid a large price. My second lap was one of my slowest. It was during the second lap that Greg Kauper found my wheel.<br /><br />We rode the next two laps nose to tail. As we refined our knowledge of the course, we were also learning about each other.<br /><br />Greg was getting out of the saddle more frequently. Every time I saw his saddle sway, he pulled ahead by a second or two. My mostly seated style seemed to favor the more technical corners. Instead of trying to match his power, I waited until the next set of twisties and was able to get those seconds back.<br /><br />The nuances of the course were also coming into play. I was finding corners where I could roll without touching the brakes. I fell in love with the winding descent section near the food trucks where I could usually approach with speed, whip it side to side between the tapes, and make up a second or two on my rival. Through the 'most dangerous' corner, I found some grippy soil way inside and rode it motocross style with my inside foot unclipped and the rear tire stepped out. I carried crazy speed into the run up and, usually, coasted up and over the first log; but I could not time my dismount well. Hodala corner, with the huge fan presence, was a favorite. I preferred the outside line and usually responded to the roar of the fans by carrying as much speed as possible around the outside.<br /><br />After four laps and 28 minutes of racing we crossed the half way point of the race. We had been locked together for over two laps. There were no riders close ahead or behind. It looked a lot like this battle was going all the way to the finish.<br /><br />After four laps, we had found our roles. Almost every lap, we followed a script. Greg led over the start/finish line. I stuck to his wheel looking for the tiniest protection from the wind. At the first camel hump, I pulled out of his draft and started my climbing effort early only to sag back into line as we approached the top. At the second camel hump, he popped out of the saddle and powered away from me. I railed the winding 'S' corners finding recovery and earning back my lost seconds. We would remain nose to tail until the short climb after the tennis courts where I would slingshot past into the single track. His dismount at the bottom of the run up was superior every lap, and it was 50/50 who would would remount first. As we approached the twisties at Hodala corner, he would open a gap. I carried more momentum around the Hodala soap feature and was back on his wheel to finish the lap.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br style="background-color: white;" /></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZrGZvd84H80Hbw6Okug3aq9sc09xQ9r4gKhDKXEmav9ux0wwTCvXOOfUuyBaBWDOjb5ldc1wgdxosZpQAVFBcSJeOuZYatljWHAGdBHIxw0SMtXJV5DDGOakRzJcpfni65bnjDykg-SGbPp3M9kIj8sBvTxtSdOgwc6T6dmI3gGXuZ5GyKE-CD_Od/s1280/i-FffK9DR-X2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img alt="Dwaine races his Cyclocross bike" border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZrGZvd84H80Hbw6Okug3aq9sc09xQ9r4gKhDKXEmav9ux0wwTCvXOOfUuyBaBWDOjb5ldc1wgdxosZpQAVFBcSJeOuZYatljWHAGdBHIxw0SMtXJV5DDGOakRzJcpfni65bnjDykg-SGbPp3M9kIj8sBvTxtSdOgwc6T6dmI3gGXuZ5GyKE-CD_Od/w640-h426/i-FffK9DR-X2.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Lap Six was tough. This photo was taken just after Greg pulled ahead by five seconds.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br style="background-color: white;" /></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On lap five, I was at my limit at the top of the run up. Greg sensed my weakness and kept his foot on the throttle. At the end of the lap, he had opened a gap of five seconds. This was the largest gap between us the race had seen.<br /><br />Lap six started hard. I didn't want to hurt anymore, but I had invested too much to give in. I stayed the course. Every corner was open, and I hit my lines and carried maximum speed. At the top of the run up, as we neared the end of the lap; I measured a smaller gap. I carried my momentum around Hodala and found myself right back on Greg's wheel. It took an entire lap, but I had closed the gap.<br /><br />Starting lap seven, we heard '2 to go'. We stayed on script - until we didn't.<br /><br />Half way through the last lap (#8), I</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> was thinking towards the finish; and I liked my situation. At the top of the run up, we were still close. Greg had been stronger leaving the run up, and I let him lead me into the Hodala twisties. </span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizTiPgNkptXxXd4-TSP024oNX8Xd05BTkjvfMpXpBohSzzT_iGjqXES52Pr68zO8giuiAWPeoUk1RVEcC4A-GZdMd3q-rLO4HPTEMYaYXIdXMBEHPb1DnJ_LFg2yT-gBcvbhZGMd6q5rwmq-9VsKGsbzwA1bLPrfd4eldLKFtC-UONWwtl18Yvph-E/s1280/i-nbNGHCs-X2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img alt="Woodland Park run up" border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizTiPgNkptXxXd4-TSP024oNX8Xd05BTkjvfMpXpBohSzzT_iGjqXES52Pr68zO8giuiAWPeoUk1RVEcC4A-GZdMd3q-rLO4HPTEMYaYXIdXMBEHPb1DnJ_LFg2yT-gBcvbhZGMd6q5rwmq-9VsKGsbzwA1bLPrfd4eldLKFtC-UONWwtl18Yvph-E/w640-h426/i-nbNGHCs-X2.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Finishing the run up with no clear leader.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The twisties were a series of four corners included the soap feature. The grass was grippy. I let Greg have a small gap going into the twisties. Like previous laps, I wanted full view of the corners and freedom to pick my line. Just as I had practiced all race, I exited the third twist with just a skosh more speed. I carried that speed the long way around the soap feature and passed Greg on the outside. With just two corners to go, the battle was mine to lose!</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">At the second to last corner, I became all ass and elbows in an attempt to fill the racing line and make a pass as challenging as possible.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">At the final corner, I took an inside line that allowed me to get on the power first. If Greg wanted to pass, I forced him to go the long way around. The final paved sprint to the line was uphill, and I started a bike length ahead - but Greg didn't roll over. He had the legs to power past me and win the battle. After 56 minutes of racing, Greg secured eleventh by two tenths of a second.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">From my saddle, Woodland Park was a spectacular race. The course was fun and fast and fantastic. My battle with Greg was the most competitive in memory and having a large turnout of fans was the icing on the cake. Celebration.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I need to give a shout out to my Fell Swoop friends. Kudos to Z-Dog for pushing us all to get off the couch and race or spectate. I also appreciate the time Jonas took to write the great course description. Finally, a big thanks to all the other Swoopers that were course side heckling and yelling and encouraging us to keep spinning the pedals.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Much appreciation also needs to go out to my wife, Deanne, for supporting me in person at Woodland Park. She cheered me up the run up. She carried my wheels to the pits. She handed me a burrito after the race. She supported me all season. Thank you.</span></span></p><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-25247850071431221152022-10-09T11:52:00.035-07:002022-11-04T12:07:28.503-07:00 Racing the Clock at Fort Steilacoom Park<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"> Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;">I consider Fort Steilacoom Park my local cyclocross course. When the new MFG Cyclocross team came to my town and put on a race at F.S.P, I found it was an easy choice to attend.<br /><br />Like previous races, this year racers were faced with bone dry soil and above average temperatures. This year, I've been coming up to speed with dry soil cross racing; and how it affects tire choice. For the third race in a row, I chose to ride Maxxis Ramblers in size 40mm. I've also been coming up to speed on hydration needs and placed a full water bottle in my back pocket.<br /><br />When I lined up for the cat 1/2 50+ men's start, I joined a group of less than 15 racers. The start was uneventful and we were soon streaming through the dry grass turns that punctuated the bottom section of the course. These grass section turns were flat and smooth and rewarded a smooth entry and exit.<br /><br />As we passed the pits, I noticed Craig Undem was unclipping his inside foot through some corners. I considered shouting a mid race heckle. An instant later my rear wheel let loose and snapped sideways. I figured that was the Karma police reminding me to be kind.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"> </p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbSQ3N8RGgkaXxgxuXdPCXv79aorJ1kobD6RjwxhX3TeDg9iX6EBwvrg5iuaGFVD9oWpFwi-2VDEm6CsEgxGvoiIZz-pOSm1LY6LA8C7nuHby5VMQ7w-IbhAnQHO0Qmz_IHBitdwIlQ0iMOn0IUB9STO9b2ZS8f_QKPPSHsAfrYrfcvYjo2kgRLhx/s2583/MFG-10.09.22-60.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="Jonas races cyclocross" border="0" data-original-height="1722" data-original-width="2583" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbSQ3N8RGgkaXxgxuXdPCXv79aorJ1kobD6RjwxhX3TeDg9iX6EBwvrg5iuaGFVD9oWpFwi-2VDEm6CsEgxGvoiIZz-pOSm1LY6LA8C7nuHby5VMQ7w-IbhAnQHO0Qmz_IHBitdwIlQ0iMOn0IUB9STO9b2ZS8f_QKPPSHsAfrYrfcvYjo2kgRLhx/w640-h426/MFG-10.09.22-60.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My teammate Jonas navigates the bottom turn in the orchard.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;">A half lap later, at the top of the orchard, both tires let go. I drifted a short ways before getting the bike in line and barely avoided hitting the ground. This slide put me on edge. It also jolted my memory. Craig and I were both on the same make and model of tire. The Maxxis Ramblers were performing like the proverbial knife in a gun fight. I had no choice but to dial back my cornering aggression for the remainder of the race.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;">I dialed back my cornering speeds and found myself riding solo. I focused my energy on two challenges - straightening the corners as much as possible and choosing a pace that balanced power output and recovery needs.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;">The elevation profile at F.S.P. created a real recovery challenge. The course had a long stretch of soft sand. Most racers rode it which elevated our heart rates. Just two corners later, we were faced with the run up. These two features compounded the suffer, and my eyes crossed every lap as I remounted. After a too short off camber section, we climbed up to the top of the orchard. Choosing to push too hard in the sand or run up crushed my ability to finish the climb.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;">At the beginning of the second lap, I caught three riders to form a group of four. Warning bells sounded in my head. It was way too early to start scrapping for positions. I quietly backed off to trail the trio by one or two seconds. I needed to listen to my body and choose a pace I could sustain to the finish. After watching them from a distance for two laps, they demonstrated their superior fitness and began to inch away.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-2H5A5PsW7AI56_DN8FQoje-BIi5pvKfi3AYdOa_6eQv7PGpQD29olZaoj3ztIbZiNcnl4Us7r8jCFfGe_fH-2cL3RCPZ6jdTRAHbltyc3M0uiAqE1wcLx5yUnyiESdlXDv90etBpBeExD3aLTyPzO3cgoINgeaGaOaSYfJ96d2RzQF6H4YrCTUI/s2583/MFG-10.09.22-52.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="Cyclocross racer receives splash of water" border="0" data-original-height="1722" data-original-width="2583" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-2H5A5PsW7AI56_DN8FQoje-BIi5pvKfi3AYdOa_6eQv7PGpQD29olZaoj3ztIbZiNcnl4Us7r8jCFfGe_fH-2cL3RCPZ6jdTRAHbltyc3M0uiAqE1wcLx5yUnyiESdlXDv90etBpBeExD3aLTyPzO3cgoINgeaGaOaSYfJ96d2RzQF6H4YrCTUI/w640-h426/MFG-10.09.22-52.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick also offered full face water splashes. I opted for a simple water bottle hand up.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><br />By mid race, I was suffering from the heat. My water bottle was a one-time-use solution. There was no feasible way to put the bottle back into my pocket once removed. My friend Patrick from <a href="http://gritcityhealth.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Grit City Health</a> came to my rescue. He saw me suffering and offered a bottle hand up. A lap later he offered another. Thanks Patrick!<br /><br />On lap four, I committed to maintaining my effort to the finish and aimed for perfect pacing. I dialed in the appropriate amount of suffer on each trip up the run. I worked hard enough to prevent the leader of the elite group from lapping me. I crossed the line without drama to complete seventy minutes of racing.<br /><br />I squeaked into the top ten with another ninth. My lap times showed pacing improvement. If I exclude the first lap, the other six are all within twenty seconds of each other. The final four laps were within five seconds of each other. At the end of the race, I was executing solid pacing.<br /><br />I also improved my performance against my common rivals. I lost one minute to Craig compared to losing four minutes the previous week. I lost four minutes to the winner compared to losing six minutes the previous week. I survived a full seventy minutes of racing.<br /><br />Fort Steilacoom Park loves to challenge me. This race was no exception. F.S.P. also makes me a stronger racer. Next weekend, we visit Sprinker Recreation Center for what will likely be another warm and dry cross event. I'm hoping that I've learned enough to improve my showing at these California style cross events.</p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-12958012101391578302022-10-06T11:40:00.035-07:002022-10-28T11:57:02.967-07:00Arlington Airport 2022<p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Two weeks ago, at Evergreen High School, I did not race up to my potential. After a couple weeks of thought, I determined it was time to change my pacing strategy. The Cross Revolution race at Arlington would be the test to determine if my pacing could be improved. At first glance, both events appeared to share many similarities. They both were held on warm dry days that invited some sweat and dust. Both courses featured dry grass, a run up, and a sand section. Despite the similarities the Arlington event turned out to be a different animal.</span></span></p><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-564499407231567083" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 716px;"><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The dry grass at Arlington had been cut much longer and hid hard lumpy soil. The course included two single track sections that each concluded with a prominent feature. The first single track section led right into the run up which, unlike the Evergreen H.S. run up, could often be ridden. The second single track section ended with a traditional sand section. My sand riding skills returned, and I was usually able to ride this section. These course features figured into my race finish.<br /><br />After taking a few laps to view the course, I conferred with my teammate, Jonas. Overall, the course was not all that technical. We discussed where to invest power and where to find some recovery. The warm temperatures motivated me to stow a water bottle in a rear jersey pocket. Heat and hydration figured into my race finish.<br /><br />We had about twenty riders on the line for the men's cat 1/2 45+ start. I navigated the first corner safely and quickly settled into my own pace as the top six or eight riders sped off.<br /><br />After my last race, where I pushed hard to ride with the lead group for three quarters of the first lap, I approached Arlington with a different pacing plan. I challenged myself to ignore my competitive drive in the early laps and aim for even splits.<br /><br />Within a lap, I found myself trading positions with Andrew Lynch. I was better at riding the run up. He was better on the flats. I worked to keep my competitive emotions in check and focused on optimal pacing. By half way, I heard the announcer say we were competing for seventh place. At about this time, I checked back to see a small gap on Andrew. I felt confident I could stay ahead to the finish.<br /><br />My fitness and pacing seemed a good match. Every lap, I hit some big watts to ride the run up. Every lap, this effort maxed my heart rate; but I could get it back under control within a minute or two. The same pattern emerged through the sand section. The suffer meter was pegged immediately after those efforts and my body repeatedly bounced back.<br /><br />When I saw the lap counter announce two laps to go my head drooped. The heat was catching up with me. I wanted so much to be done. Internally, I questioned my ability to race another twenty minutes.<br /><br />Just one lap later I stripped those doubts from my mind and replaced them with a larger problem to solve. Andrew Lynch was closing the gap and bringing Colin Ferguson with him. With less than a lap to go, they worked up into striking distance. I kept an eye on them through the single track as we approached the run up. Luckily, when I needed it most, I nailed the run up. This effort opened up my gap; but, for the first time all day, I could not get my heart rate under control once back on the flats. I was just two or three minutes from the finish and completely gassed. They both pedaled right by.<br /><br />My heart pounded inside my chest and I barely kept the bike rolling into the final single track section. The slow turns of single track allowed just tiny bit of recovery. My focus during my final trip through the sand was absolute and I rode it convincingly. As I completing the sand section, I glanced up to realize both Andrew and Colin were forced to run. My ride through the sand closed the gap, and we were tight as we entered the final set of flat grass turns. My competitive drive took over the controls and snapped me to attention.<br /><br />Andrew and Colin's body language showed they also realized the race was on. I knew just two of the final four corners offered decent opportunities to wrestle back a position. The first opportunity, a right hander, was most ripe for a pass, and I pushed hard on the pedals to gain an inside position. My competitors sensed this and stayed on the gas all the way to the corner. The final left hander was tighter but still offered a passing lane. I set myself up well, but my legs lacked the snap to get me into a solid passing position. I showed my wheel but Andrew granted no gift. A three second blanket covered all three of us as we crossed the line with Colin nabbing seventh and Andrew in for eighth.<br /><br />I was destroyed. Snot dripped off my face. Dust covering my sweaty skin. The three of us shared fist bumps to celebrate our spectacular finish to a truly grueling race.<br /><br />On the long drive home, I over analyzed the final lap of the race and grinned on every replay. Once home, I looked at lap times that showed my laps times were about twenty seconds slower in the late laps as compared to the early laps. That is a bigger drop than I hoped for but still OK.<br /><br />More importantly, I wondered to myself if equal splits was the right pacing strategy. I concluded it was the best strategy for me. The Arlington course did not play well to my strengths. The flat and bumpy straights required raw sustained power. I cannot usually match the raw power of the race winners. By letting the front runners go from the gun, I was able to sustain a moderate effort for 62 minutes.<br /><br />Kudos to Andrew and Colin for the reminder that we were in a 65 minute race.<br /><br />My search to find ways to trim a few seconds in ongoing. For the short term I'll continue working on three obvious avenues for improvement. I'll continue my training regimen and reach for a few more watts. I'll commit more practice at pacing correctly for the course - and I'll pray for some rain.</span></p></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-76240118751051078632022-09-21T18:17:00.056-07:002022-09-22T18:39:44.472-07:00 Cross Revolution at Evergreen HS<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></p><p><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cross Revolution took us to the Evergreen High School venue and race day found us under sunny skies and 70 degree warmth. The course was, of course, dry. It seemed pretty fast and contained quite a few short, steep ascents. In general, it was similar to last year's event at this venue.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As the first race on my calendar, I was using this race to evaluate this year's equipment and fitness.<br /><br /><b>The Bike</b><br /><br />I was not alone in choosing to race a Ibis Hakka MX. During warm up, I noticed there were at least five Hakkas in the same color as mine. While waiting on the start line, I noticed a few more. This boosted my confidence in my equipment - but the real test happened on the course and the Hakka shined. I'm adapting well to the less precise steering at low speeds. At speed, the handling was rock solid stable, and it railed the fast corners.<br /><br /><b>The Tires</b><br /><br />Cornering speed is dependent on tires, and my choice of tubeless Maxxis Ramblers in 40mm was an outlier. A quick survey indicated most racers were sticking with 33mm wide tires. Luckily, a racer I know was also testing a set of Ramblers, and this racer knows his way around a cross course. When I asked Craig Undem about his experiences so far, he admitted this was his first race on the Ramblers. We agreed to share notes after the race. <br /><br /><b>My Fitness<br /></b><br />Racing cyclocross requires short bursts of power. I can match the fast guys' accelerations once or twice or even twenty times. Cyclocross racing requires hundreds of these short efforts. The power numbers from my power meter don't tell the whole story - an hour of racing did.<br /><br /><b>Cat 1/2 Master Men 45+</b><br /><br />I lined up in the second row behind Craig. He knew that, when 25 racers funneled into the first few turns, there would be mayhem. When he powered off the line, I dug deep to stay on his wheel. After a handful of quick turns, the course straightened; and I found myself in fourth and well ahead of the traffic jams. After letting one rider come by on the next straight, I clamped on to the tail end of the lead group for as long as I was able.<br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDq2MiLn9LJcYIy1_UVlhEjAh6C_S9nXcB-dU5rNhzQjuRiGmmtYCyWX6eaIbqO_zkR5nlvSNLd_aTHnGzn4YSJFdVefchYfMj016zOR2504Mf_2X_48NPkYZ3zXGyWYJJtacxRCfo_IjRTq7MrbEBQmiqd6tfs6nLDHL22JXf85o6y_sS1GnprAo/s906/evergreen1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="906" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDq2MiLn9LJcYIy1_UVlhEjAh6C_S9nXcB-dU5rNhzQjuRiGmmtYCyWX6eaIbqO_zkR5nlvSNLd_aTHnGzn4YSJFdVefchYfMj016zOR2504Mf_2X_48NPkYZ3zXGyWYJJtacxRCfo_IjRTq7MrbEBQmiqd6tfs6nLDHL22JXf85o6y_sS1GnprAo/w640-h426/evergreen1.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cat 1/2 Master Men 45+ start. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The run up exposed a crack in my fitness. The other members of the lead group didn't show as much hurt when we remounted at the top.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The sand section exposed another weakness. I bobbled, had to put a foot down, and watched the leaders ride away.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Lap two played out a lot like the first lap except I raced with the chase group. This group was also about five. This group also rode away when I, again, botched the sand section.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">In the moment, I realized I was matching the power and corning speed of the riders in these two groups; but my frustration was growing with my bike handling in the sand section.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">For the remainder of my race, I rode mostly alone. The patterns established on laps one and two were repeated getet crushed by the run up, recover well enough a few turns later, then botch the sand section where I would both lose time and put out extra effort to run the bike out of the sand. Had I been racing against the sand section, it would have been judged the winner. In seven laps, I rode it clean just once. On four of the laps I bobbled, lost momentum, and then dismounted to finish the section on foot. Twice I hit the deck.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgccYGi1ATumJlI-fkD14StlPi5KMAd11Edh7fF02P4RzkPaXTUnHK6d_Y9GTiBTAB_tQ0-w2H2GNJNQEmnakwGKe_cSfnpLSRr29f0cNAhuRCLO6RY2GZ7QSeVl2qv7iGTtr8PMIMtxHrI-DsGfftzBXwQ9NHmCy2Y4KiRnohxQxp4gGlDodL9Lltn/s853/evergreen2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img alt="Dwaine descends on cyclocross bicycle" border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="853" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgccYGi1ATumJlI-fkD14StlPi5KMAd11Edh7fF02P4RzkPaXTUnHK6d_Y9GTiBTAB_tQ0-w2H2GNJNQEmnakwGKe_cSfnpLSRr29f0cNAhuRCLO6RY2GZ7QSeVl2qv7iGTtr8PMIMtxHrI-DsGfftzBXwQ9NHmCy2Y4KiRnohxQxp4gGlDodL9Lltn/w640-h640/evergreen2.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dwaine concentrates during one of the many short grassy descents at Evergreen HS. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />On my second to last lap, the leaders of the Cat 1/2 men race were closing in and threatening to put me a lap down. I focused myself, barely stayed away and earned myself the privilege of one more lap. I finished 14th of 22 finishers in my class.<br /><br /><b>Findings</b><br /><br />Sand Sucked. Most days I can find the bike handle, but the short sand section had my number. There is, however, more to this story. My poor performance led me to do some serious thinking on why the wheels fell off and how I will get them back on. Expect a blog post about this topic next week.<br /><br />Fitness OK. On the sections of the course that did not require running, I was pretty pleased with my fitness. More often than not, I could push watts into the accelerations and find enough recovery to repeat.<br /><br />Run up not OK. My legs felt weak. My heart rate hit the ceiling. The run up became my Kryptonite.<br /><br />Tires. I was staring at the ground with drool escaping when Craig approached me after the race. Despite identical tires, we experienced different race outcomes. Craig took his Ramblers to 3rd place. Chapeau.<br /><br />We shared our thoughts on the Maxxis Ramblers and found consensus. They sucked up the bumps well. We both ran pressure in the low 20's and appreciated the lack of sharp jolts coming through the saddle. Cornering was predictable and on par with a typical 33mm file tread. The Ramblers also gave great feedback. There was a slight sense of tire rollover when a tire was overloaded. When the limit of traction was reached, they let go predictably.<br /><br />Evergreen High School was not my break out race, but the news was not all bad. My equipment choices were solid. Despite a single race in the books, this boosted my confidence about this year's equipment; and I'm looking forward to spending more energy on race craft and training. I'm also encouraged by some aspects of my fitness and feel like there is still a little more to be found.<br /><br />Finally, the difficulties in the sand section have forced me to challenge some of my assumptions. I've heard you either win or learn. This week the sand chose for me, and I'll be back next time a little wiser.</span></p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-75206724982949393582022-08-05T19:13:00.000-07:002022-08-05T19:13:57.368-07:00RAMROD 2022 - Post-ride Stats/Information from the Organizers <p> </p><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="ll8tlv6m j83agx80 btwxx1t3 n851cfcs hv4rvrfc dati1w0a pybr56ya" style="align-items: flex-start; display: flex; flex-direction: row; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 12px; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 16px; padding-top: 12px;"><div class="buofh1pr" style="flex-grow: 1; font-family: inherit;"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d" style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw m9osqain hzawbc8m" dir="auto" style="color: var(--secondary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><h2 class="gmql0nx0 l94mrbxd p1ri9a11 lzcic4wl aahdfvyu hzawbc8m" id="jsc_c_2o" style="color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 4px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;"><span class="nc684nl6" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl gpro0wi8 oo9gr5id lrazzd5p" href="https://www.facebook.com/R-A-M-R-O-D-Ride-Around-Mount-Rainier-in-One-Day-187456284626719/?__cft__[0]=AZXe_HRommOvRvmUjstmLsR3iPLLcmBtWjS1fKI2cCITvxrAAtuoY2XGqVB8GIqokflhpDG71LZDeNw8WqLet_SQLXl5dWKQ7x-akcV3-P29Hs_Mu0vdtg8qebrHGX6YUMYjEpS-gW7XjXZk-0Sq-W_S&__tn__=-UC%2CP-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-weight: 600; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0"><span style="font-family: inherit;">R A M R O D - Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day</span></a></span></h2></span></div><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d" style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d9wwppkn mdeji52x e9vueds3 j5wam9gi b1v8xokw m9osqain hzawbc8m" dir="auto" style="color: var(--secondary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.8125rem; line-height: 1.2308; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><span id="jsc_c_2p" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl gpro0wi8 m9osqain b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=pfbid05Crn5xKouNbcPobxsouYPaaqzfdSam261DJBeYGMZs9xTswruzWaDNgDiUrSVZEsl&id=187456284626719&__cft__[0]=AZXe_HRommOvRvmUjstmLsR3iPLLcmBtWjS1fKI2cCITvxrAAtuoY2XGqVB8GIqokflhpDG71LZDeNw8WqLet_SQLXl5dWKQ7x-akcV3-P29Hs_Mu0vdtg8qebrHGX6YUMYjEpS-gW7XjXZk-0Sq-W_S&__tn__=%2CO%2CP-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; 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font-family: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 41; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">9</div><div class="b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 ni59vufs ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 59; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">6</div><div class="nc684nl6 l94mrbxd l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 lv3kjj39 ib11zyx6" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; order: 17; position: relative; top: 0.001em;">s</div><div class="myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 aad0coll ib11zyx6" style="font-family: inherit; order: 14; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; top: 0.001em;">g</div><div class="t5a262vz nc684nl6 ihxqhq3m l94mrbxd aenfhxwr l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 rftirlwx ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 54; position: relative; top: 0.001em;">P</div><div class="t5a262vz l94mrbxd myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 cfgmhs04 ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; order: 6; position: absolute; text-decoration: inherit; top: 3em;">2</div><div class="l94mrbxd aenfhxwr myohyog2 b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 btdbcjbe ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 50; position: absolute; text-decoration: inherit; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">m</div><div class="t5a262vz aenfhxwr b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 ztwz91u3 ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 55; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">1</div><div class="l94mrbxd aenfhxwr myohyog2 b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 ngqw426n ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 5; position: absolute; text-decoration: inherit; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">5</div><div class="l94mrbxd aenfhxwr myohyog2 b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 cjhczs1p ib11zyx6" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 60; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; top: 0.001em; vertical-align: inherit;">M</div><div class="ihxqhq3m myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 cnr0ui9q ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 32; position: absolute; text-decoration: inherit; top: 3em;">4</div><div class="b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 st808tnr ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 36; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">f</div><div class="t5a262vz nc684nl6 ihxqhq3m l94mrbxd aenfhxwr l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 avu7doz6 ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 31; position: relative; top: 0.001em;"> </div><div class="b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 jtugmsno ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 13; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">f</div><div class="t5a262vz aenfhxwr b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 ovl95nf9 ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="cursor: inherit; 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vertical-align: inherit;">u</div><div class="t5a262vz aenfhxwr b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 qvid7bu6 ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 44; position: relative; top: 0.001em; vertical-align: inherit;">1</div><div class="t5a262vz aenfhxwr b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 h9e7qa53 ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 2; position: relative; top: 0.001em; vertical-align: inherit;">A</div><div class="t5a262vz aenfhxwr b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 gm1tya1a ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 34; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">9</div><div class="t5a262vz l94mrbxd myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 avjd1nhg ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; order: 52; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; top: 0.001em;">2</div><div class="b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 nwv3zc44 ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 4; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">6</div><div class="t5a262vz nc684nl6 ihxqhq3m l94mrbxd aenfhxwr l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 bqlaibtm ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="cursor: inherit; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 30; position: absolute; top: 3em;">0</div><div class="t5a262vz nc684nl6 ihxqhq3m l94mrbxd aenfhxwr l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 q921cdp1 ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 25; position: relative; top: 0.001em;"> </div><div class="t5a262vz l94mrbxd myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 ewgyd6db ib11zyx6" style="cursor: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; order: 45; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; top: 0.001em;">:</div><div class="ihxqhq3m myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 obikou9g ib11zyx6" style="font-family: inherit; order: 19; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; top: 0.001em;">t</div><div class="ihxqhq3m myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 aosj0w6i ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 58; position: absolute; text-decoration: inherit; top: 3em;">l</div><div class="l94mrbxd aenfhxwr myohyog2 b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 iyic8zgw ib11zyx6" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 3; position: relative; text-decoration: inherit; top: 0.001em; vertical-align: inherit;">u</div><div class="nc684nl6 l94mrbxd l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 geh6p6wf ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; order: 16; position: absolute; top: 3em;">3</div><div class="b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 kiln5qde ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; order: 37; position: absolute; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">f</div><div class="l94mrbxd aenfhxwr myohyog2 b6zbclly l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 b6h5affv ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; order: 10; position: absolute; text-decoration: inherit; top: 3em; vertical-align: inherit;">5</div><div class="ihxqhq3m myohyog2 l9j0dhe7 sdhka5h4 lp53mc9m ib11zyx6 xrhKlDpt ldCl" style="font-family: inherit; 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pointer-events: none; position: absolute; transition-duration: var(--fds-duration-extra-extra-short-out); transition-property: opacity; transition-timing-function: var(--fds-animation-fade-out);"></div></div></div></div></div></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="" dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="ecm0bbzt hv4rvrfc ihqw7lf3 dati1w0a" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_2q" style="font-family: inherit; padding: 4px 16px 16px;"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d" style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto" style="color: var(--primary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">RAMROD Numbers</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">We’ve received lots of questions (and we’ve seen some errant speculation) around all of that ice, how many riders went to Crystal and the average # of ice cream bars consumed by a finisher. We live in a data-driven world so let’s dive in.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Ice, Ice, Baby</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">2022 was hot and we put our full heat safety package in place. Side note: we developed this safety plan for our 2009 Edition of RAMROD which interestingly enough featured the same route except that it started/finished at the high school. While 2022 was hot, the hottest year on record by far remains this 2009 Edition. Find a survivor from 2009 and they’ll tell you what it was like to descend from Crystal in 100 degree headwinds. This year we shipped 4,000 lbs of ice out on the course. What’s most remarkable about this is that every pound was handled by volunteers and loaded on a truck, driven to the remote locations on the route, taken from the truck and then distributed to bottles, socks and coolers.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">H20</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">On the far side of the course, water, like ice has to be hand-delivered via volunteers and trucks to make available on the side of a road like the Deer Creek stop. We brought over 1,000 gallons of drinking water to the remote stops and on our SAG vehicles. Note: Start, Eatonville, and Ashford serve water from local water systems so this isn’t total water served. </div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Riders</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">2022 saw a lower-than normal number of riders leave the Start Line compared to a normal year. There were two factors at play this year: #1 and most significant was COVID which impacted the ability for some riders to participate beginning in late May and right up to event day. (Also of note is that COVID would have a similar effect on volunteers requiring continual replacement and shuffling up until event day.) The second factor was concern over heat. Between the forecast and the cool training season prior to the forecast, many riders made good decisions to ride the route another day. </div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">The Numbers</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">635 riders left the Start Line at Enumclaw</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">236 riders (37%) made it up to the Crystal turn-around</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">605 riders (95%) finished in Enumclaw</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Finishing rate was equal among female & male riders (95%)</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Completion rate (95 vs 96% 2019) & medical attention was comparable to previous years</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">4,000 lbs of ice delivered</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">1,000 gallons of drinking water delivered</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">1,600 artisan cookies from Pinckney Cookie Cafe delivered</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Average ice cream bars per finisher remains unknown : )</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Photo: A RAMROD volunteer cools off in the final hour</div></div></span></div></div></div></div><div class="l9j0dhe7" id="jsc_c_2r" style="font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><div class="l9j0dhe7" style="font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><div style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 gs1a9yip g5ia77u1 mtkw9kbi tlpljxtp qensuy8j ppp5ayq2 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 rt8b4zig n8ej3o3l agehan2d sk4xxmp2 rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 mg4g778l pfnyh3mw p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x tgvbjcpo hpfvmrgz jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso l9j0dhe7 i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of du4w35lb n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql btwxx1t3 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l lzcic4wl a8c37x1j tm8avpzi" href="https://www.facebook.com/187456284626719/photos/a.424838737555138/5437129239659371/?__cft__[0]=AZXe_HRommOvRvmUjstmLsR3iPLLcmBtWjS1fKI2cCITvxrAAtuoY2XGqVB8GIqokflhpDG71LZDeNw8WqLet_SQLXl5dWKQ7x-akcV3-P29Hs_Mu0vdtg8qebrHGX6YUMYjEpS-gW7XjXZk-0Sq-W_S&__tn__=EH-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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align-items: stretch; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-left-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-radius: inherit; border-right-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-flex; flex-basis: auto; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><img class="j1lvzwm4" height="18" role="presentation" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' xmlns:xlink='http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink' viewBox='0 0 16 16'%3e%3cdefs%3e%3clinearGradient id='a' x1='50%25' x2='50%25' y1='0%25' y2='100%25'%3e%3cstop offset='0%25' stop-color='%2318AFFF'/%3e%3cstop offset='100%25' stop-color='%230062DF'/%3e%3c/linearGradient%3e%3cfilter id='c' width='118.8%25' height='118.8%25' x='-9.4%25' y='-9.4%25' filterUnits='objectBoundingBox'%3e%3cfeGaussianBlur in='SourceAlpha' result='shadowBlurInner1' stdDeviation='1'/%3e%3cfeOffset dy='-1' in='shadowBlurInner1' result='shadowOffsetInner1'/%3e%3cfeComposite in='shadowOffsetInner1' in2='SourceAlpha' k2='-1' k3='1' operator='arithmetic' result='shadowInnerInner1'/%3e%3cfeColorMatrix in='shadowInnerInner1' values='0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.299356041 0 0 0 0 0.681187726 0 0 0 0.3495684 0'/%3e%3c/filter%3e%3cpath id='b' d='M8 0a8 8 0 00-8 8 8 8 0 1016 0 8 8 0 00-8-8z'/%3e%3c/defs%3e%3cg fill='none'%3e%3cuse fill='url(%23a)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cuse fill='black' filter='url(%23c)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cpath fill='white' d='M12.162 7.338c.176.123.338.245.338.674 0 .43-.229.604-.474.725a.73.73 0 01.089.546c-.077.344-.392.611-.672.69.121.194.159.385.015.62-.185.295-.346.407-1.058.407H7.5c-.988 0-1.5-.546-1.5-1V7.665c0-1.23 1.467-2.275 1.467-3.13L7.361 3.47c-.005-.065.008-.224.058-.27.08-.079.301-.2.635-.2.218 0 .363.041.534.123.581.277.732.978.732 1.542 0 .271-.414 1.083-.47 1.364 0 0 .867-.192 1.879-.199 1.061-.006 1.749.19 1.749.842 0 .261-.219.523-.316.666zM3.6 7h.8a.6.6 0 01.6.6v3.8a.6.6 0 01-.6.6h-.8a.6.6 0 01-.6-.6V7.6a.6.6 0 01.6-.6z'/%3e%3c/g%3e%3c/svg%3e" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: top;" width="18" /></div></span></span></span><span class="np69z8it et4y5ytx j7g94pet b74d5cxt qw6c0r16 kb8x4rkr ed597pkb omcyoz59 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 qxh1up0x qtyiw8t4 tpcyxxvw k0bpgpbk hm271qws rl04r1d5 l9j0dhe7 ov9facns tkr6xdv7" style="border-bottom-color: var(--card-background); border-left-color: var(--card-background); border-radius: 11px; border-right-color: var(--card-background); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--card-background); border-width: 2px; font-family: inherit; height: 18px; margin-left: -4px; position: relative; width: 18px; z-index: 1;"><span class="t0qjyqq4 jos75b7i j6sty90h kv0toi1t q9uorilb hm271qws ov9facns" style="border-radius: 9px; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 18px; width: 18px;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div aria-label="Love: 24 people" class="oajrlxb2 gs1a9yip g5ia77u1 mtkw9kbi tlpljxtp qensuy8j ppp5ayq2 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 rt8b4zig n8ej3o3l agehan2d sk4xxmp2 rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 mg4g778l pfnyh3mw p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x tgvbjcpo hpfvmrgz jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso l9j0dhe7 i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of du4w35lb n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql pq6dq46d btwxx1t3 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l lzcic4wl" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; align-items: stretch; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-left-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-radius: inherit; border-right-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-flex; flex-basis: auto; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><img class="j1lvzwm4" height="18" role="presentation" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' xmlns:xlink='http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink' viewBox='0 0 16 16'%3e%3cdefs%3e%3clinearGradient id='a' x1='50%25' x2='50%25' y1='0%25' y2='100%25'%3e%3cstop offset='0%25' stop-color='%23FF6680'/%3e%3cstop offset='100%25' stop-color='%23E61739'/%3e%3c/linearGradient%3e%3cfilter id='c' width='118.8%25' height='118.8%25' x='-9.4%25' y='-9.4%25' filterUnits='objectBoundingBox'%3e%3cfeGaussianBlur in='SourceAlpha' result='shadowBlurInner1' stdDeviation='1'/%3e%3cfeOffset dy='-1' in='shadowBlurInner1' result='shadowOffsetInner1'/%3e%3cfeComposite in='shadowOffsetInner1' in2='SourceAlpha' k2='-1' k3='1' operator='arithmetic' result='shadowInnerInner1'/%3e%3cfeColorMatrix in='shadowInnerInner1' values='0 0 0 0 0.710144928 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.117780134 0 0 0 0.349786932 0'/%3e%3c/filter%3e%3cpath id='b' d='M8 0a8 8 0 100 16A8 8 0 008 0z'/%3e%3c/defs%3e%3cg fill='none'%3e%3cuse fill='url(%23a)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cuse fill='black' filter='url(%23c)' xlink:href='%23b'/%3e%3cpath fill='white' d='M10.473 4C8.275 4 8 5.824 8 5.824S7.726 4 5.528 4c-2.114 0-2.73 2.222-2.472 3.41C3.736 10.55 8 12.75 8 12.75s4.265-2.2 4.945-5.34c.257-1.188-.36-3.41-2.472-3.41'/%3e%3c/g%3e%3c/svg%3e" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: top;" width="18" /></div></span></span></span></span></span><div class="" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql l9j0dhe7 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l lzcic4wl gmql0nx0 ce9h75a5 ni8dbmo4 stjgntxs tkr6xdv7 a8c37x1j" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-radius: inherit; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; max-height: 1.3333em; outline: none; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 1;" tabindex="0"><span aria-hidden="true" class="bzsjyuwj ni8dbmo4 stjgntxs ltmttdrg gjzvkazv" style="float: left; font-family: inherit; overflow: hidden; text-overflow: ellipsis; width: 100px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="gpro0wi8 pcp91wgn" style="font-family: inherit; padding-left: 6px;">117</span></span></span><span class="gpro0wi8 cwj9ozl2 bzsjyuwj ja2t1vim" style="background-color: var(--card-background); float: left; font-family: inherit; margin-left: -100px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="pcp91wgn" style="font-family: inherit; padding-left: 6px;">Best Side Cycling and 116 others</span></span></span></div></span></div></div><div class="bp9cbjyn j83agx80 pfnyh3mw p1ueia1e" style="align-items: center; display: flex; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; height: 22px;"><div class="gtad4xkn" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 7px;"></div><div class="gtad4xkn" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 7px;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div aria-expanded="true" class="oajrlxb2 gs1a9yip mtkw9kbi tlpljxtp qensuy8j ppp5ayq2 nhd2j8a9 mg4g778l pfnyh3mw p7hjln8o tgvbjcpo hpfvmrgz esuyzwwr f1sip0of n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql pq6dq46d btwxx1t3 abiwlrkh lzcic4wl dwo3fsh8 g5ia77u1 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 rt8b4zig n8ej3o3l agehan2d sk4xxmp2 rq0escxv gmql0nx0 kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso l9j0dhe7 i1ao9s8h du4w35lb gpro0wi8" id="jsc_c_2s" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; align-items: stretch; appearance: none; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-left-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-radius: inherit; border-right-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; cursor: pointer; display: inline-flex; flex-basis: auto; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw m9osqain" dir="auto" style="color: var(--secondary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;">22 Comments</span></div></span></div><div class="gtad4xkn" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 7px;"><span class="tojvnm2t a6sixzi8 abs2jz4q a8s20v7p t1p8iaqh k5wvi7nf q3lfd5jv pk4s997a bipmatt0 cebpdrjk qowsmv63 owwhemhu dp1hu0rb dhp61c6y iyyx5f41" style="align-items: inherit; align-self: inherit; display: inherit; flex-direction: inherit; flex: inherit; font-family: inherit; height: inherit; max-height: inherit; max-width: inherit; min-height: inherit; min-width: inherit; place-content: inherit; width: inherit;"><div class="oajrlxb2 gs1a9yip mtkw9kbi tlpljxtp qensuy8j ppp5ayq2 nhd2j8a9 mg4g778l pfnyh3mw p7hjln8o tgvbjcpo hpfvmrgz esuyzwwr f1sip0of n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql pq6dq46d btwxx1t3 abiwlrkh lzcic4wl dwo3fsh8 g5ia77u1 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 rt8b4zig n8ej3o3l agehan2d sk4xxmp2 rq0escxv gmql0nx0 kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso l9j0dhe7 i1ao9s8h du4w35lb gpro0wi8" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; align-items: stretch; appearance: none; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-left-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-radius: inherit; border-right-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-style: solid; border-top-color: var(--always-dark-overlay); border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; cursor: pointer; display: inline-flex; flex-basis: auto; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-height: 0px; min-width: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw m9osqain" dir="auto" style="color: var(--secondary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;">4 Shares</span></div></span></div></div></div></div><div class="tvfksri0 ozuftl9m" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 12px; margin-right: 12px;"><div class="rq0escxv l9j0dhe7 du4w35lb j83agx80 pfnyh3mw i1fnvgqd gs1a9yip owycx6da btwxx1t3 ph5uu5jm b3onmgus e5nlhep0 ecm0bbzt nkwizq5d roh60bw9 mysgfdmx hddg9phg" style="align-items: stretch; box-sizing: border-box; display: flex; flex-flow: row nowrap; flex-shrink: 0; font-family: inherit; justify-content: space-between; margin: -6px -2px; padding: 4px; position: relative; z-index: 0;"><div class="rq0escxv l9j0dhe7 du4w35lb j83agx80 cbu4d94t d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz rj1gh0hx buofh1pr g5gj957u n8tt0mok hyh9befq iuny7tx3 ipjc6fyt" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex: 1 1 0px; font-family: inherit; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; padding: 6px 2px; position: relative; z-index: 0;"><div aria-label="Like" class="oajrlxb2 gs1a9yip g5ia77u1 mtkw9kbi tlpljxtp qensuy8j ppp5ayq2 goun2846 ccm00jje s44p3ltw mk2mc5f4 rt8b4zig n8ej3o3l agehan2d sk4xxmp2 rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 mg4g778l pfnyh3mw p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x tgvbjcpo hpfvmrgz jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso l9j0dhe7 i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr du4w35lb n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql pq6dq46d btwxx1t3 abiwlrkh p8dawk7l lzcic4wl gokke00a" role="button" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; font-weight: 600; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;">Share</span></div></div><div class="n00je7tq arfg74bv qs9ysxi8 k77z8yql i09qtzwb n7fi1qx3 b5wmifdl hzruof5a pmk7jnqg j9ispegn kr520xx4 c5ndavph art1omkt ot9fgl3s rnr61an3" data-visualcompletion="ignore" style="background-color: var(--hover-overlay); border-radius: 4px; font-family: inherit; inset: 0px; opacity: 0; pointer-events: none; position: absolute; transition-duration: var(--fds-duration-extra-extra-short-out); transition-property: opacity; transition-timing-function: var(--fds-animation-fade-out);"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="cwj9ozl2 tvmbv18p" style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 4px;"></div></div></div></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-13964874529827994682022-07-31T16:43:00.000-07:002022-07-31T16:43:38.374-07:00 RAMROD (July 28, 2022)<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Author: Scott Wagar</span></p><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">As I was driving away from my house at 3:30am, I noticed the temperature was already 65 degrees. Today was going to be hot! I pulled into the Masonic Lodge in Enumclaw which is about a 1/4 mile from the start line at Thunder Mountain Elementary. It was still dark when I got there and cars with bikes attached were starting to stream in. I quickly got everything together packing my pockets with food, putting on my gear and making sure my bike was good to go. I started walking my bike toward the lodge through the gravel parking lot when I see a Cyclopath jersey go by me. I yelled out Gary! No response, Gary! Nothing. I look closer and it was Tom. We rode our bikes in the dark to the school where we picked up our packets which included our bib number, bike and helmet number, a helmet transponder and a t-shirt. Tom was bummed to find out you need to show your license to get your packet so he returned to his vehicle to get it.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">As I was putting on my bib number, Mike appeared. He was going to ride today but was sidelined with a knee and shoulder injury. He was there to root us on which was very nice! Minutes later, Rob and Les showed up. Start time was 5am and we made it over there with plenty of time. Rob, Tom, Les, and myself were there, but no Gary. I texted and called to no avail, then at 4:58am Gary appeared. We were ready to go!</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 10pt;">The roll out was mild working our way through the Enumclaw neighborhood. It's a game of follow the leader, but when the guy that's in the lead doesn't know where he's going, we're all in trouble. This seems to happen every year; we take a different route to Hwy 410 but eventually get there. Once on the highway on our way to South Prairie the speed started picking up and pace lines started to develop. It was becoming light out and the temp was comfortable. We were cruising along at speeds between 20-24mph with a nice pace line of around 10 riders. We all took healthy turns in front, with some showing off with speeds closer to 24mph.</span><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">We made the dangerous turn onto Orville Road - which is always poplulated with big trucks - with no issues. In previous years, I've seen cyclists almost get hit there. This stretch of road takes you to Eatonville. I always forget how long that road is, and it seems to take forever to get there. The pace line was going strong when about mile 20 Tom and I lost Rob, Les and Gary. We believe it happened when one of the guys pulling was a little overzealous with speeds that about dropped everyone, Tom and I along with 4 others held on. </div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">When I ride, my mind is thinking about a lot of different things. During this stretch, I started thinking about my daily Wordle game which I was two guesses in. I had the first, third and fifth letter already and was stuck prior to the ride. It suddenly came to me; the word was STOMP. Now I just needed a stretch where I could pull out my phone and play the word. </div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">We finally get to Eatonville where the small town welcomes you with a 1/4-mile climb. We get to the top of the hill, the high school on the left we see the first food stop. Tom and I had no intention of stopping. We kept going, but the other 4 riders turned off. Then, it was just me and Tom. We rode for several miles heading toward Alder Lake when one of the riders that turned off caught up with us. His name was Austin and the three of us rode strong toward Alder Lake. When we got on Hwy 7, the road was smooth with a nice shoulder to ride on. After my pull, I dropped back into the third spot, pulled out my phone and played my Wordle word STOMP, boom it was correct. What talent I have to ride and play a word game at the same time, ha-ha.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">We continued to work our way down Hwy 7 when I notice Tom, who was in front of me, sweating profusely, I literally needed an umbrella or windshield wipers to not get soaked by him. Although funny, he was a total trooper doing the ride today as he just had Covid 2 weeks prior, and he didn't have all his strength and energy back. We make it to Elbe navigating safely over several train tracks to get teased by the Scale Burger shack - boy does that sound good right now. About a mile down the highway, we come across a single car crash that must've happened minutes before we arrived. There were several other cars stopped to help; and in the distance, we could hear sirens coming from Ashford. The car was trashed, it appeared high speeds were to blame as he most likely went off the road then back onto it.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"> </div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">Just before Ashford, there was another food stop. Tom and I stopped, but our new friend Austin kept going. We believe he was a ride bandit as we didn't see a bib number but had a bike number, probably got it from someone else. We got food, water and peed; and this turned out to be my only stop. We spend no more than a few minutes there, jump back on the bikes and head into Ashford. After a mile or so, Tom said he was going to lay back and for me to go ahead. We wished each other safety and a good rest of the ride, and I slowly pulled away. Once through Ashford, I made the turn onto Skate Creek Parkway. I've never rode this direction on Skate Creek. I was expecting more of a climb but before I knew it, I was descending. The road was rough with many potholes and poor road repair. At speeds between 25-30mph, I was doing my best avoid the bad patches which was challenging with the sun in my eyes. I was thinking "sure hope I don't get a flat". I pull into Packwood which is mile 92 of the ride averaging 19mph to this point. </div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">I turn left onto Hwy 12 preparing myself for the toughest climb of the day Cayuse Pass. It was just before 10am, and the temp was definitely climbing most likely in the mid 80's already. I feel pretty good at this point as I make the left going into Mt Rainier National Park. They have a water stop there along with a transponder station to keep track of riders. I ride through it and then head toward the monster climb. Cayuse Pass is 10 miles of 5-7% grade that is relentless. In previous years, this climb would crush me, I would be lucky to average 5-6mph up it/ Today was not bad at 8mph average for the climb. I hadn't seen anyone since I pulled away from Tom in Ashford, so riding up Cayuse completely alone was eerie. About 3/4 of the way up there was a water/ice stop, I didn't stop, but the people there volunteering cheered me on. That felt good and gave me a little more energy. I went through the tunnel and on the other side up in the distance I saw another rider. OMG! another rider! This gave me even more energy, and my speed quickly went to 10mph which I - unfortunately - couldn't sustain. I kept moving forward and what do you know - when I came around one of the last corners, there he was stopped taking a breather. I passed him saying good job, and he said the same. I get to the top where Hwy 123 meets 410 where there was another water stop that I didn't partake in and one of the guys said I was number 2! This was cool but where was number 1? Could I catch him? The decent to Crystal is fast, averaging speeds close to 40mph. The decent was short lived because here came the next climb, Crystal Mountain. </div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">I make the right turn passing the deli stop and head up up up. The dude I passed on Cayuse was right behind me. I start climbing and slowly pull away from him. I hear some something clanking on my wheel, but I ignore it. I keep pushing on, but the clanking persists. I finally decide to stop and take a look and to my surprise I had a broken spoke. In my 25 years of cycling, this is my first broken spoke. I tucked the spoke between two others to stop the noise and think to myself this shouldn't be an issue as I only weigh 150 pounds. Well, guess what? Not true in more than one way. I keep climbing Crystal but slowing down considerably, I'm starting to bonk. I eventually make it to the top where the volunteers told me I was number 2. I turn around and made the fast decent down. While going down from Crystal, my wheel decided to not cooperate with a missing spoke. As I make the right turn back onto 410, my wheel is rubbing. I don't think much about it and keep pushing ahead. I'm riding along and a white truck pulls up beside me, and a lady says "you missed a turn back there". I responded I already made that turn, and she said "wow you're in first"! The guy in front of me must've stopped at the deli stop. But at mile 147, the wheels fell off, literally! My wheel became completely warped causing it to rub on the frame, and my tire went flat. I stopped and looked at the damage in disbelief thinking what the hell am I going to do. The wheel could barely spin! I opened up the brake and took off the wheel to change the tube out. I was in the direct sun and the temp was in the 90's. I was still breathing hard and started to feel faint but after several deep breaths I was ok. I changed the tube, filling it with a CO2 cartridge when POP - the tube blew up! Shit! Now what? I didn't have another tube. I sat there on the guard rail contemplating life and what the hell am I going to do? Do I call my wife? About 5 minutes later, another rider passes. He asks if I'm ok, and I said "no, do you have a tube I can use"? He said yes and was kind enough to give it to me. I changed the tube again with no issues this time, put the wheel back on and did my best to bend it back to prevent it hitting the brake and frame. It didn't move much but was operable. Five more cyclist passed by. Ughh.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">I was back on the road but moving ever so slow. Not only did it feel like I was riding with my brakes on, but there was a headwind that felt like a giant hairdryer coming at you at 30mph. I limped along not able to get much more than 15mph making it to Mud Mountain Road. I was nervous for the upcoming downhill with my wheel jacked up but made it down with no issues. Coming into Enumclaw, I felt I was going to make it, but still had a few miles to go. Coming down the last stretch, I come across the same guy that gave me the tube. He had his own flat tire 1/2 mile from the finish line, fortunately he has another tube. I felt bad for him! As I crossed the finish line, I had mixed emotions, I was glad to finish but was super frustrated that I had the mechanical issues. If not for that, I would've have finished first by 10-15 minutes - but instead settled for finishing 6th.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">I'm not going to lie, I wanted to win this! I know it's not a race, but I can't help myself. Tom came in a short time later; we enjoyed an ice cream then had a couple beers at his car. Nice way to finish the event. </div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px;">Till next year!</div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-14187470271378105602022-06-07T09:46:00.000-07:002022-06-07T09:46:36.597-07:00May 15, 2022 - The Cheaha Challenge Gran Fondo in Jacksonville, Alabama<p><b> Author: Leon Matz</b></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After reading Dwaine Trummert’s recent blog entry, I decided I would write about my Alabama experience in <a href="http://www.cheahachallenge.com/" target="_blank"><b>The 2022 Cheaha Challenge Gran Fondo</b></a> .</span></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div dir="auto">Normally, we think of people inspiring us with an achievement of theirs that leads us to a positive performance. After reading Dwaine’s recent entry about his negative experience in a gravel race in Eastern Washington, it brought back memories of my recent experience at Cheaha Challenge.</div><div dir="auto"><br /><div dir="auto">This race has been on my calendar for two years now. Three weeks before last years race, I crashed and broke my clavicle again. I was more careful this year and avoided an injury preventing me from going. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">I convinced Scott Wagar and Gary Hoff to join me on the trip to Jacksonville, Alabama. We all wanted to see if he could qualify for the UCI Gran Fondo Worlds in Trento, Italy. Gary was fighting off some injury issues and claimed he was just going to go and support me in the race. My winter training had been going well, and I felt ready to race. Gary drove to my house in Colorado Springs, and then, we planned to fly to Atlanta and drive to the race. The TT was scheduled for Saturday and the road race on Sunday May 15th.</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">The night before we were to leave, a grass fire closed the airport and Southwest Air changed our flight plans. Instead of arriving in the early afternoon, we did not arrive until 9:00 PM. It took the airlines 45 minutes to unload our bike boxes. When we arrived at the the rental car company, we found a long and slow moving line. We, unfortunately, didn’t leave the airport until after 12:00. After our one hour and forty minute drive to Jacksonville, we arrived at our dorm only to find no one on duty. We called the number to get someone to get into our room; but after several tries, it was clear we were not going to wake the person.</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">I snooped around the check in desk and found our names, room number and keys. Getting to bed after 2:00 AM was not what we had planned but…</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">We both tried to sleep in but had limited success. We met Scott for breakfast and plotted out our plans for the day. While at breakfast, my wife called to share that she, my daughter and two of my grandkids all had tested positive for Covid. They were all avoiding horrible symptoms. Having been double vaccinated and double boosted I tried to put the news out of my mind. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">We headed out for a short 10 mile bike ride. When I couldn’t keep up with their somewhat brisk pace, I just told myself that after a good nights rest I would be ready to race. We, then, decided to drive the course to limit any surprises. Even in a car the course looked daunting. 99 miles and almost 10,000 feet of elevation gain. Only one 3.5 mile climb but lots of short and steep climbs. It looked harder than the RAMROD course to me. Throw in the 85 degree temperatures and 90% humidity, and it was going to be a challenging day. We all finished off the day resting and eating well. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">The race was started with a rollout that was darned fast. After 5 miles, Scott and Gary started moving up through the pack; and I was already experiencing a high HR, so I stayed with a slower group hoping I would see them at the series of climbs. When we finally arrived at the start of the climbs, I thought to myself “here I go”! I increased my effort but instead of moving up past riders more we’re going by me. I continued to eat and drink thinking things would improve soon. Actually, I started feeling weaker and weaker. At 30 miles in, I looked over and saw two guys who were 20-30 pounds over weight riding past me and just talking away as if on a casual club ride. A headache soon joined me. The course was an out and back ride. The one major climb finished at the 42 mile spot. I struggled up the climb being tempted to get off and walk but made it to the top. After 10-15 minutes at the top, I decided to head back to the starting line for fear that if I kept going I would have to abandon far from the finish line. As I headed back, I felt good about my decision. I, then, started having cramps in my right hamstring. I stopped several times to stretch and raise my saddle. It helped, but the problem persisted. At one of my stops, Scott came racing by. He was clearly having a good ride. He offered to stop, but I told him to keep going!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">With 20 miles left, I came to a turn that was not marked. There was a car and a helper there, but she only noticed me after I was headed by. When she didn’t yell at me, I assumed I had made the correct turn. At the next intersection, I was thinking I made a mistake and stopped at a gas station only to find out I had ridden over a mile in the wrong direction.</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">At the 12 mile marker, I stopped at a rest stop. I drank, ate and filled my neck sock with ice and took off. I made it 7 more miles but was feeling worse and worse. Against all instincts, I got off my bike and tried to hitchhike for 10 minutes. No one would stop! A rider while going past me told me I had left my helmet at the last rest stop. I had no idea I didn’t have it on. I guess that shows how far out of it I was. Another rider went by and yelled that in .3 miles this hill was gone and mostly flat the rest of the way. Somehow, I got back on the bike and kept riding. About 2 miles from the finish, I could see a Cyclopath jersey coming up from behind. Gary had caught up with me. He had had significant problems with cramps but was as tough as a road warrior. We road in together. I staggered around for awhile and drank and ate. I was still dizzy and totally depleted. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">The announcer asked for Gary and me to report to the stage. They erroneously thought that I had completed the full course and were going to give me the jersey and medal for first in my age group. It was really Gary that deserved that honor.</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">We, then, found out that Scott placed 8th in his age group and qualified to race in Italy this September. In an amazing feat, Scott never got off the bike. He was handed two water bottles as he road by rest stops but never had to stop for any reason. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">I was so proud and happy for my Cyclopath friends but so disappointed in my performance.</div><div dir="auto">When I returned to Colorado, I tested and was positive for Covid. Thank goodness the symptoms were relatively mild, but how could the timing of me getting Covid been any worse. </div><div dir="auto">I sure wish I was joining the two of them In Italy! They will have a terrific trip!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">So much for the ups and downs of cycling !</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div></div></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-65092155746731694862022-05-31T15:10:00.001-07:002022-06-01T17:14:33.768-07:00Gran Fondo Leavenworth May 29, 2022: "A Dark Place"<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Author: Dwaine Trummert</b></span></p><p><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Posted: </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #555555; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">31 May 2022 06:36 PM PDT</span></b></p><div style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px;"><p><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My alarm arrived too soon. I scheduled just 30 minutes to go from sleeping to driving. The lack of natural light was sending strong signals to my mind and body that 3:15 was an unnatural time to be awake. The eight a.m. start of the 2022 Leavenworth Gran Fondo dictated a rough start to a tough day of riding.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A few minutes after five a.m., I arrived in Snohomish to meet up with my Fell Swoop teammate Thomas. We quickly </b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><b>transferred</b></span></span><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> my bike and gear to his Volkswagen and pointed it towards Leavenworth.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Rain, logging, and mud conspired to make the dreaded Swakane Canyon unready for cycling. The promoter had changed the course to an out and back. This change didn't have much affect on the climbing or mileage statistics. It did change the feel of the race. Thomas and I shared our thoughts and came to the conclusion that this version would tilt more towards the strongest climbers. While that was good news for Thomas, it was less good for me.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">There were no surprises as we kitted up for the start. The staging area, Peshastin Elementary School, was familiar. We shared some words with friends and teammates. The weather was friendly with forecast temperatures for the Leavenworth area in the range of 50 to 60 degrees. Clouds were in the forecast but just a single digit chance of precipitation.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Unlike previous iterations, we were not dreading the weather nor the torturous Swakane Canyon climb. With no aspirations of taking a win, I was in good spirits and looking forward to a challenging race that fell well within my capabilities.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">At one point, it looked like Fell Swoop might field as many as nine racers. As the day of the event approached, the complications of life stepped in. Three Swoopers were forced to drop out. Adam was on that short list that was unable to attend. In the days leading up to the event, we did discuss the course and some tactical plans; but it wasn't until the eve of the event that I realized how much I would miss his camaraderie on race day.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Jake, a member of the Vicious Cycles Promotions team, led the traditional neutral roll out. He chose his vintage Yamaha BW200 for the task. Of course, speed was not the goal; but it was an agonizingly slow neutral out. At least, we had time to chat.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The goal of the neutral roll out was to get us safely to Eagle Creek Road. I slipped up the </b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><b>peloton</b></span></span><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> as we approached the typical 'let loose' point of the course. I wanted to be near the front but not on the front. I heard the meek honk of the BW200 horn; and then, Jake hit the throttle. We were racing.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The out and back version of the Leavenworth event was pretty easy to characterize. The outbound leg was about ten miles of gradual paved climbing followed by about seven miles of gravel climbing followed by about eight miles of gravel descending followed by about twelve miles of gradual paved descending into the Entiat aid station - then turn around and back track to Peshastin.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The pace was manageable until the gravel climbing started in earnest. I was able to keep the leaders in sight a little longer this year before choosing to dial down to my own best pace. Once at my pace, it was a simple matter of turning the cranks near threshold for as many minutes as necessary. </b></p><p style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><p style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaX1cvuaImCarI02vJyL-L46_7ZNKLnJSF-fo0Kmw-FFRmeEGKfkdKQnt6yQJQkaEU_WP-5fusiBIHwVg4acdVKOncp7KbABfw5JdEpm9xNA9V0oYEgdjy80OpvoM9FaLxy49FrT4wcyEDPyp9rmgUOmdnDLpGygaoT24UGcmBunJZv5FGzc0_G-kB/s1600/7064980388.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1654207315622000&usg=AOvVaw0bu5S-ndzj410ILhQxs5dp" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaX1cvuaImCarI02vJyL-L46_7ZNKLnJSF-fo0Kmw-FFRmeEGKfkdKQnt6yQJQkaEU_WP-5fusiBIHwVg4acdVKOncp7KbABfw5JdEpm9xNA9V0oYEgdjy80OpvoM9FaLxy49FrT4wcyEDPyp9rmgUOmdnDLpGygaoT24UGcmBunJZv5FGzc0_G-kB/s1600/7064980388.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><b><img alt="Fell Swoop teammate Thomas" border="0" class="CToWUd" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjOM55f7t-ADwt3SqUFB1xo1v9d96EB9cz6aORhXbDt_UvsEZ1Gk3d4Rz131IVVQc5smt4qTka3ZJ81pny7k67QCfRzNrb7gpmw5RXj5wmHRqD19zMeqdJ1bhG15F6s4uyPld6etv0Cf6puZpCrns69_awYSlS1QRYUlQQfE6wwgKwJz91GExCj1O64PT2rAQPRS2rpIcBxZ-sIrOWpkslWgEhryjQWH1abNGUehnTvRQb7M8_W2u4_fKAQ1Z88Y6Cf-YX9EMiVoudhhrGQSQExRQvNjaAP1GseVyWO4z765N3V1zT-MEUVt9IJDvj9d3liEURv3k5aPax_Uw9GCGBt20VM5EhfpjhxgHfZzscB90_IuzLs6T2mXNqdVfpPEVLZ5He5LbSYWKHOqwcIy-uWjI6ePG6CBX4RahW3C-0scgKlwjf3_GLsUmzejY9vvp4=s0-d-e1-ft" title="Fell Swoop teammate Thomas" width="640" /></b></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b>Fell Swoop teammate Thomas rides with the leaders during the first climb. Photo courtesy <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.markalanphoto.gallery/portfolio&source=gmail&ust=1654207315622000&usg=AOvVaw2Ht88-njI0pBG_A1t8SBPG" href="https://www.markalanphoto.gallery/portfolio" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Mark Alan</a>.</b></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I completed the climb almost as fast as last year and was feeling good about my pacing as I neared the top. I was also slowly bringing back a group of about six riders. This was good news as it improved my chances of sharing the work when we reached the pavement on the other side.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The descent was smooth and fast in places. It was also filled with braking bumps in others. I had seen this descent in previous years and knew what to expect. I was bringing riders back one by one. When I reached the pavement, I was already on a strong looking rider's wheel. A quick shoulder check showed another racer eager to bridge up and make it three as we started the slightly downhill paved run into Entiat.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I had hoped for a larger group, but two friends was certainly better than none. After just two rotations, one of the friends suffered a mechanical failure and was forced to pull off. My new best friend and I soldiered on. We chatted little, but we couldn't help notice we were both riding Ibis Hakka MX frames in the same color and size. I said we were meant to be 'teammates', and we both got to work alternately pulling our short train towards the aid station.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As we approached the turn around, I affirmed to my Hakka friend that we were well matched and that I wished for us to ride together on the way back. I needed water, and we agreed to make a quick stop - and I did but not quick enough.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In the time it took to fill two water bottles, a group of about ten riders coalesced and departed. I hit the road 30 seconds back, and I knew it might as well have been an hour. I didn't have the legs to win a ten versus one battle if I was the 'one'. Good fortune struck, and I was not the 'one'. A second rider was also caught out. He was strong, and we both knew what to do. After a few minutes of trading hard pulls, we were able to reconnect with the larger group. I thanked him as he was stronger and did the larger share of the work.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Getting into the large group turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. There was no organization. A number of riders were initiating a rotating paceline, but it repeatedly broke apart. I was on my toes as there were some unpredictable moves that threatened my front wheel. Eventually, the group did reach a </b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><b>consensus</b></span></span><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> that we would rotate. Just one rider was having trouble which created havoc. Not efficient. Not safe.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Few words were spoken. I could read the frustration in the riders around me. I chose to open my mouth and encouraged the hold out to stick on a wheel. One broken rotation later I made it more clear by saying "I need you to hold that wheel". My next words were also clear: "If you can't maintain rotation, you need to stay at the back." I meant no disrespect, and I'm not sure how the remainder of the group felt about me giving one rider permission to sit on; but I achieved my goal. The rotation smoothed out.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Unfortunately for me, a smooth rotation didn't mean an easy rotation. We were still working against the gentle gradient. My legs were still stinging from bridging to the group. I was having a hard time eating while in the paceline.</b><br /><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Wheels on</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Up to this point in the day, I had made good decisions. I had put myself in great position. I had put down a solid effort. I had done my share of work.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I projected forward a few miles and could read the writing on the wall. I would not be able to climb with this group. I didn't feel safe eating while in rotation. Lack of nutrition before the climb would be disaster. After two hours and forty-five minutes of racing, I elected to drop out of the group. I said "thank you" to the group, let the rider ahead of me know I was dropping, and waved goodbye.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The next twenty minutes was spent getting myself ready for the final climb. I had about three miles of pavement to get some food in. Another group of riders caught me just before the gravel started, and I surfed those wheels for a bit. When the pitch started to steepen, I chose my own pace and prepared myself for a long slog.</b><br /><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Wheels off</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">At three hours and fifteen minutes, off came the wheels. I felt the beginnings of leg cramps. Taking a nature break only postponed the inevitable. I stayed in my lowest gear and learned to manage the pain. The suffer was just beginning.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The pedals continued to turn as I </b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><b>rummaged</b></span></span><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> through my mental cycling skills toolkit. Hydration and nutrition double checked and appeared to be on schedule. A caffeine shot was ingested. My position on the bike was altered as I looking for the tiniest relief. Racers were coming past regularly. Despair continued to crush my mental state.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Fifteen minutes later, I reached the lowest of lows. I muttered the word 'hate' under my breath with every turn of the crank. I actively searched for positive mental imagery and found none. I wanted nothing to do with a bike. I wanted nothing to do with Leavenworth. I wanted only to be home and have this day behind me.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">At three hours and forty five minutes, I reached the steepest pitch and walked. This was good for my cramps but did nothing to lift my spirits nor speed. Riders were now coming past more frequently. I could not see my facial expression, but the reactions I caused made it clear. They were witnessing, in real time "a broken soul". They offered the kindest words and encouragements.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">When I reached four hours into the event, I forced myself to eat again. It was a mini-wrap from the Pita Pit - one of my favorite Vicious Cycles traditions. Following this one positive emotion was an unstoppable wave of negative emotions. I gave myself permission to cry. I was most of the way up Forest Service road 5800, hiding from no one, still turning the cranks, and freely sobbing.</b><br /><br /><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I neared the end of the climb I contemplated the future. Would I ever again race gravel? Would I still be a cyclist? Would I share this story? I discovered few answers in the moment except the title of this blog post. At that same moment, I rounded a corner which revealed the camera of </b><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.markalanphoto.gallery/portfolio&source=gmail&ust=1654207315622000&usg=AOvVaw2Ht88-njI0pBG_A1t8SBPG" href="https://www.markalanphoto.gallery/portfolio" style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Mark Alan</a><b style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">. I was looking shattered and gave not a damn. As I passed, I witnessed him inspect the image and imagined the grimace he must have captured.</b><br /></p><p style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJ4-hluq6TSHUAcuILuK2wkN-Bl5_AZitjvBP6_sKvyyZJhFmZVhfS4bb_KB6Nb2KM379RakoO-t1Vrv4wVifduGE1iMD47K6SWG3V2zEKEvZz8FY0Uq1fgCCb_aM2WfsxItY-xrtfRudEdIWE7o2Q1WPfeJ84wDNgIHJrPk8gIZ36ODV-WQDSO47/s1600/7064986228.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1654207315622000&usg=AOvVaw3HY34Li_rNDO9wPsWtbqE4" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJ4-hluq6TSHUAcuILuK2wkN-Bl5_AZitjvBP6_sKvyyZJhFmZVhfS4bb_KB6Nb2KM379RakoO-t1Vrv4wVifduGE1iMD47K6SWG3V2zEKEvZz8FY0Uq1fgCCb_aM2WfsxItY-xrtfRudEdIWE7o2Q1WPfeJ84wDNgIHJrPk8gIZ36ODV-WQDSO47/s1600/7064986228.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><b><img alt="Bicycle racer on Forest Service road 5800" border="0" class="CToWUd" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgHKefiAHt5MN0RjrELLeC3wMxS5GZYAlPkm8-27CwdfxVz-eDmZ0Mm6v9CU8c2k5u0rMc8jK-_qVKgnjPQqZz7prvtApdSAd1sCHxA7n3uN4VMSAHdvmvuqaXGVd9p1S705FD-dZz8T5r0aFlcvNFlRg6nachI8yieSHR4N6XEzs_6hF-yVg23flOJ19qEkdPxzIT9NeQ9BUvmfGBUYFmbknOmmvnhgM9uLTPzFidk15ptN48uf1PdfFqRtzsHss-t257pY-yUBi9SIwHwUw2ef5sv-lhIihZ5y7g41Vnp_FvKSJyuvF9IG41nf5VKF0Zqhmi2qJ3EnBuEdiohD7wUgLW4bzuMkUN9NYJJPC8ggC4GquU1MYNwx2k5L8gaf6GLiD-NCGPzThIqp2qZaDpaUpi0pHY7lYambmFnhhuFc8lB5B26Xa8QpDgCx6PGcTE=s0-d-e1-ft" title="Bicycle racer on Forest Service road 5800" width="640" /></b></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b>Dark day for the author. I was crushed. I felt dead inside. Photo courtesy <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.markalanphoto.gallery/portfolio&source=gmail&ust=1654207315622000&usg=AOvVaw2Ht88-njI0pBG_A1t8SBPG" href="https://www.markalanphoto.gallery/portfolio" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Mark Alan</a>.<br /></b></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>The remaining hour passed without drama. The gravel descent was taken below race pace. Once back to the pavement, I worked at an endurance pace. My race was not against the other riders. My only goal was to get off my bike and back to my home as quickly and efficiently as possible.<br /><br />On the drive out of Leavenworth, I learned that my teammate Thomas finished in an impressive seventh. I shared little of my day other than it was not positive. When I returned home, my wife asked my how it went. My answer was short. "It was the worst day on the bike of my life."<br /><br />It was the worst day, but it was not my worst performance. I've tried to keep the experience in perspective by remembering that I was performing well right up until I wasn't. I had made all the right moves to maximize my finish potential. If the race had finished in Entiat, it would have been a good day.<br /><br />I haven't discovered why this experience turned so dark. I do know that the point in the race when I chose to drop from the rotating pace line was the turning point. There is something within me that drives my training, my preparation, and the motivation to push the pedals. It is the magic that makes me a gravel racer. It disappeared in a blink - at exactly 2h:45m into Gran Fondo Leavenworth.</b></p></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-73674721888061569282022-05-19T20:45:00.000-07:002022-05-19T20:45:16.486-07:00MAY 2022 - Accidental Road Racer at the Tour De Bloom 2022<p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Author: Dwaine Trummert</b></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Early Spring in Western Washington isn't always warm or dry. When my race team, Fell Swoop, announced they were attending the <a href="http://tourdebloom.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Tour de Bloom stage race</a> in Wenatchee and renting a house, I thought a long weekend under sunny skies didn't sound too bad. Originally, I planned to attend as a spectator, enjoy the weather and camaraderie, and leave the racing to the more serious roadies. But the inclusion of a 50+ cat 3/4/5 field seemed to offer a great vehicle for me to dabble my toes in proper road racing.<br /><br />Tour de Bloom included four stages over three days. Road race stages one and four book ended the time trial and criterium. Racing at Pacific Raceways, known properly as a Circuit Race, prepared me for the basics. Yet there was plenty left to learn. In the week leading up to the event, I was feeling the nerves.<br /><br />Adam suggested, as a tool to manage my apprehensions, to pencil down some process goals for each stage. He intended that I channel energy into creating and accomplishing some stage specific goals as a way to manage my overall level of nervousness. In the week leading up to the event, I chose two or three goals for each stage and put then down to paper.<br /><br />The road trip to Wenatchee would also serve as an additional test for my Westfalia Vanagon. No land speed records were broken on Friday's drive, but my vintage van did survive a number of climbs including the final twisting ascent to Waterville.<br /><br /><br /><b>Stage One - Waterville Road Race - 29 miles</b><br /><br />One factor in choosing the Tour de Bloom as my first road racing event was the moderate distances that the 50+ 3/4/5 field would cover. Twenty nine miles seemed about right for getting a taste of open road racing. The course was through rolling fields with no significant climbs. The first twenty miles was a loop to the North of Waterville that returned us to town where we started an additional loop of nine miles that lay to the South.<br /><br />The forecast included a decent chance of rain and temperatures of about 50 degrees. Choosing the right number of layers just added an additional level of apprehension as I prepared for the start. Talking to my teammate, Jonas, did nothing to calm me. He raced earlier, got soaked, and didn't remember being so cold on the bike.<br /><br />Our field of 50+ 3/4/5 had nineteen starters. Five of whom were Fell Swoopers. We were combined with the 60+ field for a starting peloton of about 35 riders. As we chatted before the start, Z-dog warned of the possibilities of a strong crosswind section at about one quarter distance.<br /><br />The race started easy as we headed East out of town. I spent the first ten minutes working on two of my process goals. I wanted to get comfortable racing within the confines of the center line rule. I also wanted to observe the general etiquette when riders moved about in the peloton. These goals kept my mind busy until we turned North and into the anticipated crosswind sections.<br /><br />But there was no wind. It might have been the calmest I've seen in Eastern Washington. However, the chance to work would soon be on offer.<br /><br />A series of rolling climbs were enough to split the field. As the efforts started to ramp up, I was hanging in good position and felt I could crest with the lead group. But it was not to be.<br /><br />After a few miles of shuffling the groups were solidified. William Dejarlais, aka 'DJ', went off the front with a rider from the 60+ group. A chase group of three including Fell Swooper Jude was second on the road. Matt and I were in the second chase group of about ten riders. The rolling climb was enough that the remainder of the peloton was broken into pieces.<br /><br />Knowing that teammate Jude was up the road in good position made for a strategically simple race for Matt and me. We needed only to cover any and all bridge attempts.<br /><br />A rotating cast of four strong riders worked at the front over the next twenty miles. They put in strong pulls. I did not. Sometimes, they wanted to rotate at the front; but it seemed like I was too often on the wrong wheel and inadvertently disrupted the rotation. As needed, I followed closely when it looked like an effort was being laid down.<br /><br />As we started the nine mile loop South of town, we caught a glimpse of Jude's group of three. We were slowly closing the gap and I was concerned they might be caught. When we were just a couple miles out from the finish, I felt confident Jude's group would stay away. Matt and I had a quick meeting. He offered to lead me out at the finish. When Matt dropped me off, I did my best and sprinted to second from our group for sixth. This was a surprisingly good result, and I was elated and thankful for Matt's effort.<br /><br />On General Classification time, Strongman DJ was two minutes ahead of second place. The three man chase group came in together putting our man Jude third on GC and best of the Swoopers. He graciously accepted his nomination as team leader.<br /><br />It wasn't until the racing was done that I realized I half failed on process goal three: Have fun. Pre-race I was a mess. But in the moment, during the race, working for my team, I had a blast. I found it most rewarding to dig in, follow a hard effort, wait for the shoulder check, and then see those shoulders slump with the realization that Fell Swoop was still on the wheel.<br /><br /><br /><b>Stage Two - Malaga Time Trial - 9.5 miles</b><br /><br />The downtime before Saturday's Malaga Time Trial was most enjoyable. The team was able to gather at the rental house for dinner and stories and camaraderie. Jonas prepared pasta. Jason shared stew and cornbread. Both were delicious, and I ate much too much. These hours were the draw for me when I planned to attend as just a spectator, and I savored them past my intended bed time.<br /><br />I felt no need to put a large effort into the TT. Jude's excellent performance in the previous day's road race removed any GC burden from me, and I was free to stick to my three process goals: Survey the team for thoughts on how to choose an effort level, arrive at a sub threshold wattage target, and then hit it.<br /><br />With no GC ambitions my TT was anticlimactic. Most of the team talked about the balance of maintaining some reserve for the afternoon's criterium while still optimizing TT time. I chose a low 275 watt target against my FTP of about 300 watts. I hoped to average 270 on the outbound downwind leg and then bump up to 280 on the return leg.<br /><br />My warmup was uneventful; and before long, I was sprinting out of the starting tent.<br /><br />My outbound leg was uneventful. I caught no other riders but a number of them blew past me. I watched the motored wheel his BMW into a too-close-for-my-comfort U-turn. The course turn around was a single cone placed on the center line.<br /><br />My return leg was a different animal. The motoref rode my wheel for a few minutes - maybe he was admiring <a href="https://trummert.blogspot.com/2021/09/circuit-racing-at-pacific-raceways.html" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Mike's vintage Calfee</a>. The wind, now taken on the nose, slowed me substantially. I was able to hold my preferred TT position most of the time, and I was getting better at holding steady power. Jude passed me, and I yelled encouragements that all included the word 'team'.<br /><br />When results were posted, we learned DJ crushed it putting more seconds between him and the three or four riders in contention for second on GC. Jude solidified his role as team leader with a solid TT effort of fourth that kept him in the hunt for a GC podium. <br /><br />Only a single rider finished slower than me which cemented my role as domestique. My ability to hit my power targets improved as I rode. From 261 against a target of 270 in the outbound leg to 278 against a target of 280 on the return. The best reward for my effort was waiting form me back at the team house. A Subway sandwich and a couple hours of relaxation.<br /><br /><br /><b>Stage Three - Downtown Criterium - 30 minutes</b><br /><br />Leading up to the criterium, I knew a nerve storm was on the horizon. I took sixty minutes away from the hustle and bustle of team activity and closed my eyes for a little nap in the back of the van. When I woke, it was full steam ahead.<br /><br />Process goals for the criterium were primarily focused on safety and experience. I wanted to spend time near the front where I expected to be surrounded by decent bike handlers. I wanted to observe the level of aggression into the corners and protect myself from inside moves. I wanted to take a lap at the front or in a break.<br /><br />My pre race recon started with surveying the team. It was important to me to understand some of the standard procedures in a crit before I was standing on the line. Jason, Z-Dog, and Jonas patiently answered my questions about how to pull off, what to do if I flat, when to expect to be pulled, etc. When we arrived at the venue, I was able to calm myself with duties such as schlepping gear to the team tent and getting my kit in order.<br /><br />The Wenatchee Downtown Criterium was, thankfully, a simple four corner layout. At the end of the start/finish straight, we turned left onto a short hill. The next left put us on the flat and gusty back straight. After corner three, we descended down the brick paved Orondo Avenue and into fast corner four. The streets were wide, clean, and mostly smooth.<br /><br />Corner four gave me pause. I took a bunch of practice laps so I could come to terms with it. I was the last rider to take a practice lap and felt that I knew that corner well enough.<br /><br />Minutes before we started, Z-Dog came up and gave me a hearty pat on the back. He knew I was freaking out on the inside. I could not have made it this far without him, and I told him so.<br /><br />The start whistle took me by surprise. I was able to get moving and clipped in quick enough. The field strung out for a couple laps, and I just held the wheel in front of me. For the first five laps or so, I stayed out of trouble and came to terms with the downhill corner four. I was pleased to observe everyone around me was predictable and free of unnecessary risk taking.<br /><br />After a few laps, I put my racing hat on and got to work. I knew that in a crit if you aren't moving up you are moving back. I found comfort in corners three and four. I often gained one position by setting up on the inside of corner three and making the pass entering four. I also found that the peloton would occasionally ease up approaching corner one. A few extra pedal strokes at the end of the start finish straight earned back up to five positions. By the end of the race, I found I could maintain a position in the top ten without too much work.<br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinS5an2SDhN4uPWIrpwZh9ISLfakP6QQ2227qSpUGuF87tFh2UiBA8gFCUHFoH_H-dzFnXZ2FOshSbjjLQSHo5dHby5fepD1MCREeADhx8YvSqzx15Y7Lj837wUy1CHn4kVGZv_9GubM0E7SiJEouWs4MeXkmVZfjsfqeLYm_1ZIy_zl6pgtLodaWk/s1600/crit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinS5an2SDhN4uPWIrpwZh9ISLfakP6QQ2227qSpUGuF87tFh2UiBA8gFCUHFoH_H-dzFnXZ2FOshSbjjLQSHo5dHby5fepD1MCREeADhx8YvSqzx15Y7Lj837wUy1CHn4kVGZv_9GubM0E7SiJEouWs4MeXkmVZfjsfqeLYm_1ZIy_zl6pgtLodaWk/w640-h426/crit.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px; text-align: center;">Jude and Dwaine flying the Fell Swoop colors midway through the criterium. Photo courtesy Mark Alan.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">What I wasn't doing was racing to win. At the pointy end, strong riders were pushing the pace on the prime laps while I hung on. One of my most rewarding moments was during the run into a prime. I was fifth wheel and had no ambitions for the prime sprint. The rider behind me, GC leader DJ, followed me down the hill. He did have ambitions, and I could hear him coaching and praying 'no brakes' as we approached the fast corner four. He didn't know I hadn't touched brakes for that corner all day. I stuck the corner, emerged tight on the rider in fourth, and DJ was free to rocket up the inside towards yet another prime.<br /><br />The race wasn't easy. I averaged 297 watts. But it wasn't so hard that I stopped thinking. As we took the last lap bell; I sidled up to Jude, gave him a look, and pedaled forward. He got on my wheel, and I went to work moving him up. We climbed for the final time taking back a position or two. On the back straight, I metered my effort to get us moving up the inside checking my shoulder to make sure he was still on. Halfway down the back straight, I made a poor choice and got myself boxed in. I had to let off the pedals and Jude had no choice but to switch to a better wheel. Damn! Mission failed.<br /><br />Fortunately, Jude was able to work his way forward and bring home a 3rd maintaining his chances for a GC podium. I was scored 8th. Eleven 50+ racers remained in the lead pack.<br /><br />The feelings of relief were evident on my face. The team was there to congratulate me for finishing my first crit (and tell me I did OK for a newbie). After taking a few minutes to savor the moment, I changed clothes and retrieved my recovery food. I found a seat in the sun and jotted down a few notes for this race recap. Then, Z-dog informed me he had something for me. I expected a critique of my crit performance or nugget of crit knowledge. Instead, he slipped an ice cold Bodhizafa IPA out out his bag and into my hand. This made my day. Thanks Z-Dog.<br /><br />With the peak stress of the weekend behind me, I was able to relax and enjoy the remainder of the criterium. We cheered for fellow Fell Swoopers who rode in later races. We had a quick bite at a pub just uphill from that fast corner four. We marveled at just how fast some of the elite riders sped by, and we felt the descent of a noticeable chill in the air. With the help of many hands, we disassembled the team tent and headed back to the rental house for more story telling and some well earned rest.<br /><br /><b><br />Stage Four - Plain Road Race - 50 miles</b><br /><br />Sunday morning dawned cool and dry and filled with surprises. Jonas was up early to catch his nine something start time. The rest of us had a leisurely morning. We sipped on coffee, watched the final kilometers of a stage of the Giro, and slowly tidied up the rental house. We also discussed some race tactics.<br /><br />We determined DJ was uncatchable. The next four riders were all within a minute on GC including Jude. Our plan was to control the race, protect Jude, and let his legs do some talking on the final climb to the finish line. These team tactics trumped some of my process goals. The one goal that was still relevant was to attempt to assess the strengths and ambitions of other riders in real time.<br /><br />My vintage Vanagon gave us a bit of a scare as we were about to get under way. The alternator light was flickering. This could not be ignored. I asked the guys to wait until I knew more. As soon as I opened the engine compartment, Jason miraculously spotted a loose connector. I was able to snug it up, and the problem was solved.<br /><br />When the Vanagon arrived in the tiny community of Plain, another surprise was revealed - falling snow. Snow did not correlate to the forecast for 50 degrees and a 20% chance of precipitation. I added more layers. After warming up, I went back to the van and added another.<br /><br />The course was mostly flat except for the hill climb finish. It consisted of two laps over a 25 mile course. The course had a small rise just a few miles into the lap. We contemplated that the field might split on that first rise and prepared ourselves for an early effort.<br /><br />We started with just 25 riders, fifteen from the 50+ field and just ten from the 60+ field. A top five contender in the 50+ field had retired, so Jude faced just two other riders that were close enough for a GC podium.<br /><br />The first climb was taken at a moderate pace and the field stayed together.<br /><br />For the next 45 minutes, the pace was up and down but never hard enough to crack the field. There was tension in the peloton. It seemed to me that DJ was itching to put out some watts. Every smart rider knew getting into a break with DJ was a ticket to the GC podium. Smart riders also knew any break without Jude would feel the weight of five Fell Swoop jerseys pulling it back.<br /><br />At about the twenty mile mark, Z-Dog pulled a feather out of his cap. The pace was slow, and he broke out of the field. I heard someone say 'Yeah Z'. I smiled. Then a voice said 'let him go'. No one reacted. Until someone did. DJ launched out of the pack and bridged up to Z-Dog. They rode away. All the Swoopers knew the deal was done. By drawing DJ out of the peloton, Z-Dog virtually guaranteed there would be no more serious break attempts. The pace steadied and Fell Swoop took control of the peloton.<br /><br />At the start of the second lap, the peloton passed Z-Dog on the small climb. Each Swooper thanked him on the way by. He had burnt a bunch of matches helping DJ get away. Z-Dog was exhausted and frozen and retired not long after.<br /><br />The weather started to catch up with me on the second lap. The snow and hail flurries continued on and off. When the road was wet, my face endured a shower of road water spray. I was dressed for a dryish 45 degree day on a wettish 40 degree day. When the pace was slow, I could feel the ice water creeping in. Each surge of speed slightly warmed my insides, but it was never enough to completely push back the chill.<br /><br />Fell Swoop continued to control the peloton. Sunday continued to offer surprises.<br /><br />At about seven miles to go, we were dealt a hay maker. The follow car pulled alongside to inform the peloton that the race would finish on the flats without the hill climb finish. There would be no chance for Jude to out climb his rivals. Darn.<br /><br />We still had four Swoopers, and we re-organized for a lead out and sprint finish. We did not know the location of the finish line. As we neared Plain, I warned 'we are running out of runway'; and we started to assemble our train. Matt would light the fire, I would follow, and Jude would finish it.<br /><br />There was no '1 kilometer to go' sign. The pace started to quicken as we passed through Plain. The highway bent left, but we were directed straight and onto Camp 12 road. It didn't stay straight all that far, and we pulled the trigger without knowing where the line was. Dutton pulled hard all the way to the first bend, and I took over. The road pitched up, and I was spent within fifteen seconds. Riders started coming around me. Then, we heard yelling and a car horn and more yelling from behind.<br /><br />We had passed the finish line some time earlier and didn't know it. I was deflated. I felt that the Fell Swoop team did everything in it's power to put Jude on the podium. I felt like our moment to shine was stolen. I shared my sentiments with my teammates.<br /><br />The final stage didn't end as planned. All finishers in the peloton were given equal time and Jude retained third on GC. I wobbled and shivered back to the Vanagon happy to be out of the wind and out of my soaked kit. I said my goodbyes and was behind the wheel heading home and eating left over pizza within the hour.<br /><br />Sunday's final surprise was positive. When I arrived at home, I learned that the promoter did have a finish line. The promoter did award finish positions for the stage. While I may never know where that finish line was, my aggressive positioning landed me a third for the stage. And my first USA Cycling upgrade points. Jude sent me a message that he had picked up my podium prize: a six pack of beer. And Jonas, whom I will quote, sent "Nice job getting an accidental 3rd!" It was a crazy cap to a busy weekend of racing.<br /><br /><b>Epilogue</b><br /><br />It took me 48 hours to decompress from an overwhelming weekend of racing. I participated in three new-to-me disciplines. I learned more about myself as a bike racer. I spent time with the team. I survived my first criterium.<br /><br />My most impactful take away is that I am now an 'amateur bicycle road racer'. Four stages over three days and three disciplines means I'm no longer just a dirt racer looking in. I'm bonafide. Even if only in my own mind's eye.<br /><br />The best part of the weekend was being accepted into the team. Gone are the feelings of being 'that gravel guy'. We shared a house. We shared the work. We shared the fun. My legs worked well on the road and that was because of the help I received from my teammates going into all four events. A few shout-outs:<br /><br />Matt - I parked next to Matt before the first road race. I was freaking out inside, and he gave me the gentle guidance and assurance I needed to unrev my stress motor. He also had the generosity to lead me out for my first ever top ten.<br /><br />Jason - Quiet, calm, collected. I was taking cues from my teammates. Jason's mellow demeanor reminded me in real time that we are racing for fun not paychecks. Plus... he troubleshot the Vanagon charging system issue in under thirty seconds!<br /><br />Jonas - He cooked for everyone. He shared thoughts on nutrition. He offered to help me with details of my training. And he reminded me before every event that I would be OK.<br /><br />Z-Dog - His favorite discipline is the criterium, and I leaned heavily on him for crit guidance. He gave me everything I needed and more to get me there, get me through, and keep me out of trouble. And, of course, that cold beer.<br /><br />Jude - Despite his modesty Jude knows a thing or two about bike racing. His wisdom was appreciated. It boosted my confidence by no small amount when he trusted me enough to take my wheel when it mattered.<br /><br />I'm proud to have ridden as a member of Fell Swoop. I'm proud we participated in Tour de Bloom as a team. I'm proud that we donned the <a href="https://www.fellswoop.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Fell Swoop</a> kit and demonstrated teamwork on the road. Did we win on GC? No. Did we have fun? Yes. Did we make a positive impression? Fer Sure.</p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-78182234504465654262022-04-14T17:25:00.005-07:002022-04-14T17:26:43.968-07:002022-04-10 Adam & Dwaine Gravel Racing in Goldendale, WA<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"> Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Wind, cold, and the threat of snow greeted racers on the morning of the 2022 Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo Goldendale this year. We had read the weather forecast. Yet the first step outside on Sunday morning drove home just how miserable this race might become.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">The Goldendale route is not defined by it's climbs. I has only 6300 feet of gain over 90 miles. Goldendale is defined by the wind. The reliable Westerly becomes a headwind for most of the route's middle twenty miles. Goldendale race strategy always includes finding friends for this sector. This year the extra chill and extra wind strength added unseen challenges.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Kitting up pre-race brought more consternation. The forecast had pivoted a few degrees cooler, and I was second guessing my clothing options. Adam offered space in his drop bag which gets delivered to the half way point via the promoter's drop bag program. My cooler kit options would be waiting for me via the drop bag and would offer the option to change out of the warmer kit.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">My pre-race jitters were running full steam. I was nervous about re-aggravating my overuse injury. I was nervous about the weather, I didn't know how much my fitness might have slipped and I was not alone. Lots of chatter about the wind and the cold and just how long the race could become. Jake, the race promoter, did nothing to quell these concerns when he offered over the loudspeaker that any rider having second thoughts about the long course should switch to the medium length course.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">As the race got underway, I contemplated my job for the day. As the only two Fell Swoop representatives on the long course, I would be supporting Adam. We discussed some specifics for the first ten miles, but the biggest question was whether or not the peleton would set a pace over the first climb that I might be able to sustain. Three years ago they did.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">We rolled slowly through town behind Jake's neutral rollout pickup truck at a pace that was doing nothing to build body warmth. Once free, the pace started mellow to moderate.When the climbing started, the pace slowly built. Those first ten miles were into the wooded hills north of Goldendale, and we were largely shielded from the wind. We watched as occasional snowflakes clouded the sky. At mile seven point five, there was a noticeble surge in pace; and it was my turn to pop. I sent a silent sorry to Adam as he pedaled away.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Adam matched the lead group's effort to the top where the climbing ended, but the pace making did not. He was pretty disappointed when he noticed that a rider ahead had let a gap open on the flats and that bridging up to the lead group of about twenty five was not feasible. At about that same time, I was finding friends. Before I hit the descent, I was one of seven; and we were ready to work.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">The first descent was also the first sector of gravel. We knew this section of road, and it would constitute test number one for our tire choices.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Adam's deep research landed him on Continental's Terra Speed in size 35mm. This tire rolls fast and has small knobs. Few tires offer both. Adam didn't expect his tire to hook up as well as a full knob 40mm choice, but it was good enough down that first fast gravel descent.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Dwaine's tire choice was risky. My calculus was that a tire that rolled more efficiently over the majority of the course might mask my lower threshold power. It was less durable. It offered the least tread possible. I rolled the dice and ran my Continental GP5000TL 32mm slicks. The first descent confirmed that my choice was a wild handful on fast gravel.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Mile ten to mile thirty sees a drop of about 500 feet over flattish roads with occasional rolling hills. The route alternates mostly between sectors that are due South for a solid crosswind and due West for a headwind. Adam did not have a great group to work with. Dwaine did.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">My group of seven needed no introduction to pacelining. We all took our turns. When the wind turned cross, we fanned into a proper seven rider echelon that often filled the road from gutter to gutter. Everyone knew that ending a pull in the echelon required falling back on the windward side of the road. It was sweet - and it was working.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">An unseen challenge revealed itself, however. As our group worked further South, we found certain geographies with stronger winds. I'm Ok with riding echelon formation on some gravel roads, but the crosswinds were increasing the risk of that formation. We soon realized single file was required for safety. Not long after, a gust moved me four feet off my line. I was lucky to have four feet of road to leeward. Gravel crosswind sections found us searching for a smooth line, battling the gusts, with no way to share the work.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">By mile twenty five, our well working seven rider group caught some riders and doubled in size. At about this time, we enjoyed a short eastward leg with smooth pavement and a strong tailwind. Heavenly. I stripped a layer, ate, drank and prepared mentally for more work.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Around mile thirty, the course started climbing up to Windmill Ridge. It got even windier. Group riding was off the table as the crosswinds and loose gravel left every rider for themselves. I was lucky to get near the front for this section. I could choose my own pace and choose the best line.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">As we crested the ridge, we were rewarded with an expansive view to the south over the great rolling Columbia River. The view came with a cost however. This section of gravel road was the narrowest, chunkiest and least friendly of the entire course. It was a short down and up into a stiff, stiff headwind. On the final pitch, I was pedaling over threshold, in my lowest gear, barely moving forward, and getting a substantial draft from the rider in front of me. Crazy.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">As the road flattened, I looked up and saw Adam. Yay! Adam knew he needed to make lots of friends before the twenty mile trek into the wind and had been pacing himself to get caught by my group at just the right time.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Before we could realize that goal, we needed to survive the gravel descent off Windmill Ridge. One section had both sketchy gravel and that stiff crosswind. This was tire test number two. First, I noticed Adam fade out of my left peripheral vision. His tires were appropriate for the job; and he chose to slow a bit to guarantee survival. Next, I saw an unknown rider get blown out of my right peripheral vision and heard him engage the ditch. He saved it, stayed upright, and rode it back onto the road.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">I forged ahead with the wind shoving me to the right. I countered by leaning left just to ride straight. The gusts started to gain the upper hand, and I put my cyclocross cornering techniques to work. Weight centered, bent elbows, right leg bent, left foot ready to catch the slide. And slide we did, as both ends took repeated turns getting loose and then regaining traction. The rubber side stayed down; and as the road bent left, I knew that the liabilities in my tire choice were now all firmly behind me.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Windmill Ridge left my previous group in tatters. We wanted lots of company as we got started into the worst of the headwinds. We rode together, displayed our Fell Swoop team colors, and let a group of about twelve assemble itself around us. A few minutes of working into the wind stripped some chaff, and we were soon down to ten. This group of ten worked together amazingly well. When appropriate, we were able to transform from single file into a rotating paceline. There was no drama except for the occasional light snow fall. We stayed focused on the work and pushed towards the descent into the tiny town of Lyle - and the main aid station stop for the route.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">The Lyle aid station was the source of many pre-race tactical discussions - especially after The Ephrata Affair.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">An aside about The Ephrata Affair. Adam and I are strong pedalers - but not the strongest. We accept that we will get out powered. We are also strong racecraftsmen, and we don't accept getting out maneuvered in this domain. At Gran Fondo Ephrata, Adam was in a large group approaching the aid station. He had to stop for water. He hadn't realized most of the group didn't need water. They rode on; and when Adam rejoined, he was relegated to a smaller and slower group into the headwind on Palisades Road. Outplayed. <b>We vowed there would be no repeat.</b></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Before the Goldendale race started, we had contingencies in place. But plan 'A' worked well for us. As we approached the descent into Lyle, Adam verbally confirmed with a number of riders in our group of 'ten friends' that we would make a 'quick stop' - and it was quick. Just a minute or two.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Once we were back under way towards Klickitat, we had fifteen miles of false flat before the final climb. This was easy compared to the headwind section. We continued to work well as a group. We had plenty of time to contemplate the final climb to Horseshoe Bend. The group of 'ten friends' slowed near the base of the climb. I told the riders around me thanks for being my friends for so much of the day and that I'd likely fade and see them after the finish.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Adam had received his team orders the day before. He was never to look back for me - not on the first climb nor the last. His job that Sunday was to find the best wheel to work with - teammate or not - and earn Fell Swoop's best finish. On the final climb he shadowed the fasted two climbers for much of the climb eventually having to back his effort down near the top.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">During the minutes before the climb, I felt lucky to have stayed near Adam as long as I did. I hoped to ascend mid pack, but that aspiration was blown when I felt a cramp starting just two minutes in. I stopped immediately and took the opportunity to visit nature. When the task was completed, my legs said that they were ready to try again. I remounted and resumed my previous level of effort with no further cramping. It felt good to be able to climb at a Zone 3 effort, and my spirits were lifted. Soon, I was pushing not quite to threshold for the steepest pitches and eventually passed one of the 'ten friends'.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Near the top, I spotted two more of the 'ten friends' which motivated some threshold plus efforts; and they were eventually caught. I was hurting and sat in for a few minutes. When it was my turn at the front, I initially pulled too hard. They were hurting too.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Tire test number three occurred over the final twelve paved miles into the finish. This test was about pure speed.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">When we turned off the final gravel sector we found pavement and a tailwind. Our speeds doubled. My two friends stayed attached until I upped the effort on the first roller.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">I repeated the protocol over and over. I put in strong but sustainable efforts up and over each roller. When my descending speed was high enough to feel wind in my face, I tucked and rested. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Lots of time using the eleven tooth cog. I was flying and loving every second. Occasionally, seeing and then catching riders kept my motivation high.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Up the road, Adam was riding similarly strong. The two stronger climbers stayed away, and Adam had no other 'friends' to catch. Adam did not know that one of the 'ten friends' (me) had him in the cross hairs. For many miles, the trailing rider was watching from afar and working - wittling away the seconds. Repeatedly measuring the slowly shrinking gap against the miles remaining.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">The catch was made just a mile out of town, and I gave Adam a warm greeting as we worked up the penultimate roller together. Adam wasn't looking back much, and I 'caught' him off guard. I told him that - if he had to be caught - I was the one he wanted to do the catching. Three minutes later we zipped and smoothed jerseys for the finish line paparazzi, team orders were reiterated, and he took 26th with me behind in 27th. After 88 miles and five hours we crossed the line separated by one second.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">The drive home from Goldendale gave us plenty of time to collect and organize our thoughts and lessons from this race. Three of the big ones deserve to be mentioned.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Tires. Unless you aspire to wild bronco riding, slick 32mm road tires are not the wisest choice for Gran Fondo Goldendale. They allowed me to save a few watts. They helped me gain back a few seconds on smooth pavement, but my choice came with significant liabilities on the gravel. Adam and I would both recommend something closer to his treaded 35mm gravel tires.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">I was able to perform surprisingly well despite my lower FTP. I could not push the pedals hard enough to get over the first climb with the lead pack. But my style of training gave me the endurance turn the pedals for every one of the 300 minutes.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Adam was strong enough to finish the first climb attached to the lead group. This is a guarantee of nothing but still very encouraging. It is the first requirement to finishing in the lead group. In addition to climbing well, he was able to sustain. His average weighted power for the race set a new personal best of 240 watts.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">We are optimistic as we train towards two more gravel races this year in Leavenworth and Quilicene. We look forward to expanding the Fell Swoop presence into the gravel racing scene. Expect to read about it right here.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-84657478704098345842022-01-10T07:58:00.000-08:002022-01-10T07:58:27.761-08:00Fell Swooping the Trails of Thrilla<p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Author: Dwaine Trummert</span></p><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px;"><p>Outdoor cycling is not dead. In the Pacific Northwest it has been long asleep, yes. But today brought proof that when the weather is good enough and the souls are hardy enough even a brisk January day can be enjoyed on two wheels.<br /><br />Last Fall I made official my union to the Fell Swoop Racing team. As they are based in the greater Seattle area I don't get to as many team rides as I'd like. When the idea of riding the Thrilla loop was floated my interest was piqued. Six weeks of indoor cycling combined with the optimistic weather forecast made this team ride all the more appealing.<br /><br />Thrilla was described to me as a mostly gravel and trail loop that threaded through the green spaces of Woodinville. I was advised beforehand that gravel and cyclocross bikes worked best for this loop. My Hakka MX fit that bill. Sunday was my in person introduction, and it did not disappoint. The dirt roads and trails were smooth, fast, and fun. Very few of the miles were shared with motor vehicles.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj__pm7VVxsEaAeKx5QTQCHNZNMeLTgHIX0EnImO73cx5WlLzxdw0VF6kKry6wEwdNm2Ct1qtmtIdDbVydXryj5vbgVCYD-J5gzTDgYFltL-ktL9anfsgcoKsisthNjVeXm-5fx1GG_mVTXlfSneRugzrwPNPyI97bk-DdI9Kdq7MUyMXXQoD9vYuK-%3Ds2000&source=gmail&ust=1641915708896000&usg=AOvVaw3GggjWvyEUcV9EocjNKlb8" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj__pm7VVxsEaAeKx5QTQCHNZNMeLTgHIX0EnImO73cx5WlLzxdw0VF6kKry6wEwdNm2Ct1qtmtIdDbVydXryj5vbgVCYD-J5gzTDgYFltL-ktL9anfsgcoKsisthNjVeXm-5fx1GG_mVTXlfSneRugzrwPNPyI97bk-DdI9Kdq7MUyMXXQoD9vYuK-=s2000" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiVAa84LnILKqSRhAGlK-v_oMCnqCAXLPYmPZb32SvLiaI-CwWHFlAhJEUB5fJPZl3I7f8_9-9D5o2EA3j8B9m8sCKwADZhfEAUdxJ7hqp8hiQXi_H9ZVK2Ra7voax1cG93efnAynKDJ_31dc1chMowZIo8cXCitejsxO6mnnBxf8_2qyy8r88WFTWX0MZ7Ii_AQVfsidHkZEbPozi446rjtA_qfMEkRVkD0l6OfhdNTqWq-K2bR373I8CvDCDk9KnK2KAxteChcWy1HiP9Ek28p3Eyp4eMHyloHy3dIGTKF8axTKhygzaZLDl5529TkMq8DTeDOC-_VsniEbk0n8oRwrVR2oQfMJxLOuhxkSSk9nQYwS9NBTYl74vOL_jj9ogJ1z4dLLTtoXo1tbp_LQmVIh7Iwgh1lj8=s0-d-e1-ft" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Crossing the Sammamish with Z and Bart. The camera did not capture the joy of the sun was warming our skin and our souls.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px;">I started my ride at Z-dog's house as did fellow Swooper Bart. We wanted the extra miles to fill out our weekly base season training goals. The skies were clear and the temperature hovered just above freezing. Z-dog led us towards the official ride start choosing roads and paved trails that skipped most of the traffic and ice.<br /><br />When fully assembled we were a group of ten. Most were regulars but a few Fell Swoop 'Ambassadors' were also along for the ride including Adam who made the drive from distant Pierce County.<p></p><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqvNnmBVeBvonzER6N-hC5HmJ2jsyBet2KcWBWp_hnwIyLshRy47D3ZgWGrdJJ4j-lTd-CYtQOHPWlWqYKXuGtzwf8XcVOzrOr7dDb8lQkX7F0jn2haAx4Xilkuy4Og6OX2fvl0HTjXKXdeeEAB28N5AnF_SOI-kVF4wcDD4GrhyCwxUpJ7Wp4KB93%3Ds2000&source=gmail&ust=1641915708896000&usg=AOvVaw1N6osMY1m0aUAYIcnY70xE" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqvNnmBVeBvonzER6N-hC5HmJ2jsyBet2KcWBWp_hnwIyLshRy47D3ZgWGrdJJ4j-lTd-CYtQOHPWlWqYKXuGtzwf8XcVOzrOr7dDb8lQkX7F0jn2haAx4Xilkuy4Og6OX2fvl0HTjXKXdeeEAB28N5AnF_SOI-kVF4wcDD4GrhyCwxUpJ7Wp4KB93=s2000" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgJVGWv0JVC8wYsplE4MBbutcw7iUtMaob4zBU5hEL-Txb41h_926j2b6cvIHUeGgrbtE-kzKjZpeXhk_kglD0FOT6anTV2M_NLft92KQ1Gk8LaKrK5kvmmzV1A2swq6VfanvEAWFV7rQtmhstyXe4wXK_FU7QSagJHJVgLAzXMOA3eSgp8YI07xfoNIPizUsMU_stftMgoY-eh5vRZTRsUTchGOolgQALAw5nUx4Jqg8gPnJg_3eA2rp2oMlm4CieMBPyQsKvaizhK1UvwAIrtI0N_oy-mjbZRAbKG96J3ZRi5aEcTisntWA3B6bG7XPuNvs2sRVltVSVJNFcvN9AzsoXVskP2mdsJNV6U6DzIxLCT9GH55Zarl9rXv0EwUQHKYQHdPpFurXv6DoakQ-QL-Z2GcC9j1Sw=s0-d-e1-ft" width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Travis fights the sticky bottle while taking point on one of the few paved sectors.</td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>I cannot recall every section of the route. One that did make an impact was a short loop around a neighborhood called 'Tuscany'. The trails were smooth and fast with few road crossings. The group picked up the pace, and I was happy to dangle at the back. This detour was a full three miles of near perfect single track.<br /><br />Conversation topics pivoted throughout the day. Training for the upcoming race season was often discussed. The racing calendar was mentioned. But the most common theme seemed to be how well the weather cooperated and how nice it was to log some non Zwift miles.</p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggB87TOlPOTyJIMeSLLAAMDXs5_58RuMbH6cTEih--fjT8CVBCONCqAIOcSPCPlkzsPu3c3QCk6VfCslV3YhcKM_YhjNN2Rs2U00PnAsO9Dmmnkfm5EupRm3A4ZmnwZwjsv8mhgy73yFcNWz_TLZYFYPtiO5MPH_PV16aSS0A7cD6XM0jjIcf7_Wup%3Ds2000&source=gmail&ust=1641915708897000&usg=AOvVaw052Hyj4Dg4ZDG738U79C5p" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggB87TOlPOTyJIMeSLLAAMDXs5_58RuMbH6cTEih--fjT8CVBCONCqAIOcSPCPlkzsPu3c3QCk6VfCslV3YhcKM_YhjNN2Rs2U00PnAsO9Dmmnkfm5EupRm3A4ZmnwZwjsv8mhgy73yFcNWz_TLZYFYPtiO5MPH_PV16aSS0A7cD6XM0jjIcf7_Wup=s2000" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiHTp6QUjy-aE4XC1CAeVuivi3bpXmtQQ075L-Cj1LaFwJPfRbFv1MjE5-VQBRWHeBpZOm5LN5LSdGrYhIE0SJL780z739ArKi98hxEFuelkHOzQX8zbk2qnU0q9tmWAnQUqW1B6gsxPVWQk4potwDY8IkvrpzNqeDR2fW7sTf2uIRxcScNTTRY_tWNspjFmlV2ZJhNW4jbTcwdxDpD1JwjDfUGOWnCM1u7spOMTWlN7qra3fnpzOqHp2tztEjET2IYQ2FFLw4rGwO1tnQqkHimJHRDqGoxDoBkZKW7XzPMkmMbmFTXIyeJCddHuriWYJMgkX0Ua_OThTckob4f9zXmjs4JIkAmGPXB7MJZFI6dRcjWfTAu4rMdiHeo4z38qKm6kIxMVpwcNZKkA-Iql1bia_8iXeQm-5w=s0-d-e1-ft" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Z-dog and his crew of cyclists.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>My favorite section was certainly through the Redmond Watershed Preserve. The trails had a perfect balance of twistiness and speed. My imperfect tire choice, Panaracer GravelKing SS, was not ideal for a wet forest. But by mid day I had gained the confidence to up my pace and enjoy the sweeping corners.<br /><br />As we neared the end of the loop we stopped for a group photo along the Tolt Pipeline Trail. The climbing was done. The sun was out and had pushed back the early morning chill. The Olympic Mountains popped out on the horizon. We were unable to hold back our smiles.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCGCG9OczisBl1an3k7QVNOWZ8iNPozQcH2Efvzn9wmcnWGEI8wavz8rOt2ALx74jbmpIcipSOKGvLw9JXnpzlvfsfq5hcnvIOt0FLiGI1LYhQIQaIwYqHjZXjcSYrkHdVVrpPD3frlDepg8vmHrekjDG8omjji8SfRfeFbuTtp3yESOK-GWdDF_i2%3Ds4032&source=gmail&ust=1641915708897000&usg=AOvVaw2SaCp8YbxM3-eyAZil6Vlc" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCGCG9OczisBl1an3k7QVNOWZ8iNPozQcH2Efvzn9wmcnWGEI8wavz8rOt2ALx74jbmpIcipSOKGvLw9JXnpzlvfsfq5hcnvIOt0FLiGI1LYhQIQaIwYqHjZXjcSYrkHdVVrpPD3frlDepg8vmHrekjDG8omjji8SfRfeFbuTtp3yESOK-GWdDF_i2=s4032" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEhMKHesXuNn_cp_o0wXA_K4sqnrgg2l9sXe3kbH_H05ikO5E39Cq-fHbqak6ZD9Ouz78Gj6eP-ZHY-yo1k6a8RL65fHKCdSkco3z6PbnFeN86cRaXFSpxun3v-yH_PanWnxr0pB_VxR-IA7aPso7uQgv40KBvudpUqjojMDaz3UU3CfV7olUP80fMw7Dq-R5I7elzlVowlQEJUvZYip6q5zY2wfdy-o-p2K9dqXeHc8JfZXp_b2rw2AfybXOKC-6UzVSzPG-EiNb8VUfvjxNwY-0EVjpLQI-H0tw9KWaQWrZo93pIMTm-AcMcOIFSXbKsXeS5zc79HRBLgNA4NtfY0lqMEqykpHedCtq6wPUeZjY9_df_oAuJw7H3YH4Ux7WK8T2MXrBwviCd76pZA9U4b645iBQhLCpI4=s0-d-e1-ft" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Photo courtesy Z-Dog.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Bart, Z-dog, and myself rolled back to our start point with just over 40 miles on the clock. We thanked each other for a great ride. As I loaded my truck for the drive home, I couldn't think of a better way to have spent a cold January morning.</p></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-73206866007163836922021-12-12T06:38:00.001-08:002021-12-13T06:56:17.038-08:002021-12-10 Three Way Power Meter Comparison<p>Author: Dwaine Trummert</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My neighbor and cycling mentor, Les, and I were chatting about indoor cycling with power. He wondered aloud if it was possible to know if his Vector 3 power meter pedals were accurate. I shared that I was in possession of a Drivo smart trainer to complement my Stages left side crank arm power meter. Before the conversation ended we had a basic plan to assemble all three power meters onto my Zwift training platform and see how they stacked up.<br /><br />For a proper test, we would need to eliminate or account for as many variables as possible. I started with some notes that were eventually translated into a testing protocol. The protocol was then translated into a step by step checklist. There were a lot of moving pieces, and we hoped to hit our marks with no forgotten steps.<br /><br />The checklist is appended to the end of this post. It is not an entertaining read but does show our process. I'll review a few of the protocol details before revealing our findings.<br /><br />Research indicated that the Drivo should see about 5% less power due to drivetrain frictional losses as compared to the pedals and crank arm. In the days before the test, I took a few steps to maximize my setup's efficiency. I installed a new chain, cleaned and lubed the jockey pulleys in the rear derailleur, and gave the chain at least 30 minutes of break in before the test.<br /><br />We did not know how temperature would affect the power meters, so we planned to zero at the beginning of the test and again after a warmup phase.<br /><br />The Stages left arm only power meter was connected to the Zwift app while the other two were paired to Garmin head units. All three recordings would be uploaded to Strava for comparison. The Stages would be considered the baseline, since I have the most experience using that unit.<br /><br />My legs provided the power to be measured. We prescribed five blocks in the protocol. In each block, I ramped up to the target wattage and held that wattage for the prescribed number of minutes. Most of our analysis, however, would be against the final 250 watt five minute block.<br /><br />In addition to a straight power accuracy comparison at 250 watts, I also wanted to answer a couple other questions. Do I have a left to right power imbalance? Does efficiency change depending on wattage? How efficient is my particular drive train?<br /><br />The checklist helped us get through the test without missing any steps. But the test was not hiccup free. There was a mix-up between old and new Look style cleats that cost us some time. My checklist included a re-zero after the warmup block; but neither of us knew how to re-zero the Vector 3, so they were not re-zeroed. The Vector 3 pedals flashed a low battery warning to the Garmin screen mid test. This is to indicate 20% battery life remaining. We soldiered on without stopping to refresh the batteries.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirrkFMa4ca2LE-_2u1sXlkByLGRAataGB8VG9LTvKYRy2GPPG3jBLy8cf4XrBptLS2dSd_F-IesmUUHCX3oGk0fW2_UT18fTPIbzDO8EfIIcSSj3TqpIvh3QP60nUsTXEx-uXDeZQhCamHcKsuiFlHoSXRutMsVxSyhJzV2qJUVoTSJskt6Aa5J-F4%3Ds969&source=gmail&ust=1639492478845000&usg=AOvVaw1I6o9bSsdY1KrfsFrR1bQT" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirrkFMa4ca2LE-_2u1sXlkByLGRAataGB8VG9LTvKYRy2GPPG3jBLy8cf4XrBptLS2dSd_F-IesmUUHCX3oGk0fW2_UT18fTPIbzDO8EfIIcSSj3TqpIvh3QP60nUsTXEx-uXDeZQhCamHcKsuiFlHoSXRutMsVxSyhJzV2qJUVoTSJskt6Aa5J-F4=s969" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEgOaNmFaxzq5gvUI1Vus3X36p_BJt6L9DUI-68DT0jZFnGzfWh7-Ubl7VFJnm9NhW10dajiRtF8J5QiwQpvq_yKzIZBNVoH27DcO-0MAeiK-Lc4yMdbX9thXDmC4j_Z5OzKiMD5xXkMalVyqmlROuDvd2JwpVHva3OFMChyphenhyphenmwzJ32zWTXtHRKvcd4Ae2Ke342_TPIMajTQEN_Pqz4B1t9nuqNAqf9_CoGEvJNK1ew_RBBr8NyBkZqUA8PBPOj_QOm14XER5KbWPq-JMCFYyuIS5HRSnOw0R_9qSJqp8UvenJ0uMb-WAq-Fo3aF-uE34STqYuf6XDqKO_aQw2peMHD5UlraDQFmFXceBOv23BWXWPWd7rNEamCikkB-nfIzI0ITs1FsKM45qXPIO9lLR7OjuCGSdQYt88Qg=s0-d-e1-ft" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Strava's 'Analyze' tool in action.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />Files were uploaded to Strava, and we took our first look at the numbers.<br /><br />I used the 'analyze' tab in Strava to highlight just the five minute block at 250 watts to gather the following averages:<br /><br />Stages Drivo Vector<br />248 218 219<br /><br />Expressed as percentage difference from baseline:<br />Stages Drivo Vector<br />0 -12.1% -11.7%<br /><br />For power meters that are advertised as accurate to within one or two percent, this initial result looked pretty poor - but we had more digging to do.<br /><br />Using the Garmin Connect web application, we learned that I do have a significant power imbalance. For the entire ride, I recorded a 52%/48% left to right imbalance average. The imbalance grew to 53%/47% for the 250 watt block under analysis.<br /><br />Single sided crank arm power meters calculate overall power by measuring one leg and doubling the result. This works fine if we assume both legs are sharing the load. Mine legs were not. I corrected the Stages power average mathematically using the 53/47 imbalance reported by the Vector 3 pedals and updated the tables:<br /><br />Stages<br />corrected Drivo Vector<br />234 218 219<br /><br />Expressed as percentage difference from corrected baseline:<br />Stages<br />corrected Drivo Vector<br />0 -6.9% -6.5%<br /><br />The Drivo, where we expected about 5% loss due to drive train friction, was now in the ball park; but the Vector 3 number was still worrisome.<br /><br />A couple days passed. My subconscious processed the numbers. My subconscious processed the protocol. A light bulb lit within my mind. We failed to configure the Vector 3 pedals for my longer 175mm cranks. Doh!<br /><br />My cranks are 175 and I verified the Vectors were configured for 170. I made another mathematical correction and another update to the data:<br /><br />Stages Vector<br />corrected Drivo corrected<br />234 218 225<br /><br />Expressed as percentage difference from corrected baseline:<br />Stages Vector<br />corrected Drivo corrected<br />0 -6.9% -3.8%<br /><br />The final analysis was to investigate efficiency differences at higher wattages. The 400 watt data follows and includes both corrections:<br /><br />Stages Vector<br />corrected Drivo corrected<br />383 363 373<br /><br />Expressed as percentage difference from corrected baseline:<br />Stages Vector<br />corrected Drivo corrected<br />0 -5.3% -2.6%<br /><br />At higher watts, the Drivo showed slightly less frictional loss as a percentage. The Vector also shows a small percentage difference compared to 250 watts that could not be related to drive train efficiency changes.<br /><br />One caveat needs to be mentioned. The Garmin Connect software reports leg imbalance as whole percentages. The 53/47 reported by the software may have been anywhere between an actual 52.5/47.5 and 53.3/46.5. When we are hoping to see power meter accuracies near one percent the rounding error might be more than trivial.<br /><br />Where do I go from here?<br /><br />I might choose to improve the protocol based on what we learned and rerun the test. But that's not on my schedule yet. The Vector 3 pedals have returned to their home.<br /><br />I'm also looking at a choice between two power meters that do not agree for my indoor cycling. The Stages appears to read high due to my leg imbalance. I have years of training data from this device. The Drivo appears to read low due to normal drive train losses. But rear wheel measured power is more applicable to how much power propels me in the real world.<br /><br />I'd like to thank Les for his inspiration and assistance. Without his help and his pedals this test could never have left the ground.</p><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><i><b>Power meter comparison protocol</b><br /><br />The following steps are presented in a more or less chronological order. This document to be printed and used as roadmap during actual testing.<br /><br /><br />Clean drivo cassette, chain rings, lube jockey wheels, remove jockey wheel seals, install new 9 speed chain at full length, do not augment factory lube, install drivo.<br /><br />Ride new drive train for at least 30 minutes to break it in. Pair crank as PM in Zwift. Pair Drivo as controllable in Zwift. ANT only. Never BlueTooth. Always use Zwift Fuego Flats with trainer difficulty set to zero. Start Zwift ride.<br /><br />Pair Drivo as PM to Dwaine's Garmin. Choose ride type "Indoor". Start ride in Garmin.<br /><br />Record which cog is used for 150W and which cog is used for 250 watts per crank arm power meter. Aim for 90 to 95 cadence.<br /><br />150w cog: ___<br />250w cog: ___<br /><br />Try to zero Stages via phone app while Stages is still paired to Zwift. Record findings: ____________________<br /><br />Remove pedals from Stages crank arms.<br /><br />Invite Les, Vector 3 pedals, and Les' Garmin head unit. Install Vector 3 pedals. Record ambient garage temperature.<br /><br />Garage temperature: ___<br /><br />Pair and Zero Vector.<br />Zero message: __________________________<br /><br />Zero Stages via anonomous phone app.<br />Zero message: __________________________<br /><br />Pair Drivo to my Garmin 520.<br /><br />Start Zwift. Pair Stages to Zwift as power and cadence source. Pair Drivo as controllable. ANT only! Zwift waits at 'ride' screen.<br /><br />Start ride on both Garmin devices. Choose ride type "Indoor".<br /><br />Choose route 'Tempus Fugit' in Watopia. Set trainer difficulty to zero. Start Zwift ride.<br /><br />Start hardware warmup phase.<br /><br />Get paper and pencil ready to jot down start and end times for each of the following blocks:<br /><br />Ride at least two minutes manually holding wattage at 150. Use cog ___.<br /><br />Reduce wattage for at least 30 seconds.<br /><br />Ride at least five minutes manually holding wattage at 250. Use cog ___.<br /><br />Stop pedalling.<br /><br />Zero Vector.<br />Zero message: __________________________<br /><br />Zero Stages via anonomous phone app.<br />Zero message: __________________________<br /><br />Ride at least two minutes manually holding wattage at 150. Use cog ___.<br /><br />Reduce wattage for at least 30 seconds.<br /><br />Ride at least five minutes manually holding wattage at 250. Use cog ___.<br /><br />Reduce wattage for at least 30 seconds.<br /><br />Ride at least one minute manually holding wattage at 400.<br /><br />Stop pedalling.<br /><br />Stop and save ride on Zwift and both Garmin devices.<br /><br />Upload rides from Garmin to Dwaine's Strava account. Choose ride type "Workout".<br /><br />Use 'analyze' tab to find average watts for each of the four power blocks:<br />Stages:Drivo:Vector<br />cold 150 watts: ___:___:___<br />cold 250 watts: ___:___:___<br />warm and zeroed 150 watts: ___:___:___<br />warm and zeroed 250 watts: ___:___:___<br />warm and zeroed 400 watts: ___:___:___<br /><br />Calculate % high/low relative to Stages for Drivo and Vector for each of the four blocks:<br />Drivo:Vector<br />cold 150 watts: ___:___<br />cold 250 watts: ___:___<br />warm and zeroed 150 watts: ___:___<br />warm and zeroed 250 watts: ___:___<br />warm and zeroed 400 watts: ___:___<br /></i> </p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-52511361203204601562021-09-29T19:03:00.001-07:002021-09-29T19:03:49.264-07:002021-09-29 Update on Extending the Foothills Trail Across the White River to Connect It with Enumclaw (from the September 2021 Foothills "Rails-To-Trails" Newsletter)<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kztk3qyJJ9g/YVUaqQudy5I/AAAAAAAAWyM/ZFu7MeQQTRwQcfokMLGtscJI6zty3ypKQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2551/White%2BRiver%2BBridge%2BProject.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2551" data-original-width="1007" height="1221" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kztk3qyJJ9g/YVUaqQudy5I/AAAAAAAAWyM/ZFu7MeQQTRwQcfokMLGtscJI6zty3ypKQCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h1221/White%2BRiver%2BBridge%2BProject.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-21038986922706703402021-09-22T15:49:00.096-07:002021-09-23T12:16:05.984-07:002021-09-19 Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo Soap Lake<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Author: Dwaine Trummert</b></span></p><div style="line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px;"><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Last Sunday, I raced the Gran Fondo Soap Lake with teammates Adam and Frank. This was a brutally long event that took a giant toll on my body. I didn't plan any gravel races after June and certainly wasn't training to race for 125 miles. Race day brought a number of surprises some of which turned out be pleasant.<br /><br />Three weeks ago Adam asked me via text if I was interested in this new Soap Lake event. Within a day or two, he and Frank were signed up. I capitulated soon after. Adam and I usually plan these events well in advance, but we would be winging it this time around.<br /><br />Although we hadn't raced with Frank, we knew what to expect. His climbing ability roughly equaled ours. His raw power towered well over ours. I had ridden with him on a few long gravel rides and knew he could handle himself off the road.<br /><br />We did choose to coordinate one aspect of equipment. Adam and I ran our 32mm Continental GP5000 tires that were so fast for most of the Ephreta race. Frank went with a similar tire. Choosing similar tires meant we would all suffer slightly in the gravel, and we would all be equally speedy on the pavement.<br /><br />Our race plan was one of necessity. We would ride in support of Frank. With Frank's high power Adam and I were unsure we could even be of assistance but we planned to try. We expected many hours pushing into the wind, and Adam and I are not best suited for that role. We were also frank with Frank. If there was a faster and or larger group to work with, he should feel no commitment to stay with us.<br /><br />The route featured two aid stations which broke the course into thirds of about forty miles. Each third had it's own theme.</span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPU8Fiy2mdoSSdzCDp3AtmrDqjXbmF1M8mhHcz3PbBp_vLiffk-FAz3hoebPqBznETEpealIXZrJHj8ICzcIlHv07PtvCDtMBs2vth9pKnxUQ-F18lh2JMmDpm1WiF6N-M4dN8huvCsA/s2048/242471050_4385446418201182_3519887713304387013_n.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1632498699369000&usg=AFQjCNEjtrgjOx6PZdSSl8eXb8OmsTIV9w" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPU8Fiy2mdoSSdzCDp3AtmrDqjXbmF1M8mhHcz3PbBp_vLiffk-FAz3hoebPqBznETEpealIXZrJHj8ICzcIlHv07PtvCDtMBs2vth9pKnxUQ-F18lh2JMmDpm1WiF6N-M4dN8huvCsA/s2048/242471050_4385446418201182_3519887713304387013_n.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPU8Fiy2mdoSSdzCDp3AtmrDqjXbmF1M8mhHcz3PbBp_vLiffk-FAz3hoebPqBznETEpealIXZrJHj8ICzcIlHv07PtvCDtMBs2vth9pKnxUQ-F18lh2JMmDpm1WiF6N-M4dN8huvCsA/w640-h480/242471050_4385446418201182_3519887713304387013_n.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Photo courtesy shiggy Person<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><b style="background-color: white;">First third - climbing, sorting into groups, testing legs</b><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The only sustained climb of the day started at mile 4.6 and extended less than 4 miles. As predicted, it splintered our start wave of 25 riders. Adam and I were a little surprised when Frank started to fade a bit. We kept our effort high until we neared the top. When the lead group of seven was about to crest, we took stock and dialed our effort back. Looking forward, we saw two riders who had recently been shelled out of the lead pack. Looking back, we saw Alistair - a friend of Frank's - pacing Frank up to us. When we crested, we hoped to become the first chase group of six.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">When the pavement ended, so did our chance of keeping six riders together.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Adam and I were taken aback by the changed nature of the gravel. We had ridden this very road in March but the gravel was now dryer, deeper and looser. It squirmed under our tires giving little confidence. As the road tipped down, it laid bare the differences in descending comfort on loose gravel.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">From miles twelve to nineteen, Adam and I relived some horrible memories. This was the same gravel road where we bucked a stiff headwind during the Gran Fondo Ephreta.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We used these miles to get a feel for our legs. We used these miles to work out which riders might work well together. I attempted to observe the riders around me in addition to the wheel I was following.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The highest elevation on the course came at mile twenty five. Adam and I knew this is where our lack of raw watts might be exposed, but - for the time being - we were pulling our weight. This is also where we encountered a stiff westerly wind. We immediately morphed into a five wide echelon formation stretching from center line to ditch. Elegant.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Adam, Frank, Alistair, and I made up the core of our group. Others joined. Some left. The count eventually grew to seven. At the two hour mark, we received our first real rest. A full four miles of paved descent down to Coulee City. Six minutes later, we pulled into the first aid station.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /></span><p style="background-color: white;"></p><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Middle third - settling in, looking around, measuring up</b><br /></span></div><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After just two minutes at the aid station, we were soft pedaling East down Main Street. We took it easy to ingest our food and water.<br /><br />Once out of town, we merged onto Road 36 with nine miles of due East pavement ahead. We were chatting, eating, and looking over our shoulders. We were not surprised to see Alistair rejoin. A few minutes later, Brad closed the gap. With five solid riders we put our heads down and got back to work. Our increased pace allowed us to collect one more, and our group of six reeled in those flat and paved miles nicely.<br /><br />Just before mile fifty, the pavement came to and end. Our sixth rider slowed for the gravel which left five strong well matched riders. We were working well as a group, and I hoped we could stay together until at least the second aid station. I also started collating my mental notes about the riders in our group.<br /><br /></span></p><ul style="background-color: white;"><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Frank, our leader, seemed quiet. Each time I checked in with him, he consistently reported he was doing OK.</span></li><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Adam was looking strong. He wore a wide grin more often than not.</span></li><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Alistair seemed solid. He said little, but on a number of occasions he pulled out of second wheel position and skipped a pull.</span></li><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Brad was riding to save energy. He was skilled at riding cross wind echelon formation even on gravel. He also skipped a few pulls.</span></li><li style="margin-left: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Like Brad, I was riding to save energy. I also minded my nutrition like clockwork.</span></li></ul><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />At mile 52.7 we reached the Northeast corner of the course. All westbound legs would be into a headwind, and we faced a lot of "westing" to get back to Soap Lake.<br /><br />At three and one half hours and 62 miles, I tested my assertiveness. As we approached a slight rise, I informed our group of five that we would all stop for a nature break. The land sloped away in all directions and we took in the view just long enough to make water. Twenty seconds later, we were back in formation and pedaling away.<br /><br />After our quick break, I couldn't help but take more mental snapshots of the scenery. With blue skies and fluffy clouds dotting the horizon, it was beautiful. </span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /></span><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauFX9SAsSZHE6HTOmuyHdvNzIwHKIZn0kV3bvYEIxKAGH5jkCSr_ZqNX5NQYP0bdVeUph-AtSXtHINLcvHOAl9JD_aVjr0Z6utlSU7NurkHUJmZilg61MfMKkQSFqGreJhZeQRX0QL7I/s2048/Image%252Bfrom%252BiOS.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1632498699369000&usg=AFQjCNGa5xlFoZ9xg6P_R8ayac33sz0PcQ" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauFX9SAsSZHE6HTOmuyHdvNzIwHKIZn0kV3bvYEIxKAGH5jkCSr_ZqNX5NQYP0bdVeUph-AtSXtHINLcvHOAl9JD_aVjr0Z6utlSU7NurkHUJmZilg61MfMKkQSFqGreJhZeQRX0QL7I/s2048/Image+from+iOS.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjauFX9SAsSZHE6HTOmuyHdvNzIwHKIZn0kV3bvYEIxKAGH5jkCSr_ZqNX5NQYP0bdVeUph-AtSXtHINLcvHOAl9JD_aVjr0Z6utlSU7NurkHUJmZilg61MfMKkQSFqGreJhZeQRX0QL7I/w640-h480/Image+from+iOS.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Miles and miles of rolling hills under a cloud punctuated blue sky. Photo courtesy Frank Colich.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">I could sense the fatigue within the others as well as myself as we worked toward the second aid station. Fortunately, we continued to share the work; and I was thankful we remained five riders strong.</span><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We rolled into the Wilson Creek aid station with almost exactly five hours of cycling in the books. Our stop ran long by design. Adam and I had discussed and planned to allow extra minutes to shake out our legs and unkink our backs.<br /><br /><br /><b>Final third - Digging deep, some tactics, getting found out</b><br /><br />As we rolled out of Wilson Creek, Adam and I had a short private chat. Adam was looking and feeling the strongest of the five. We were prepared to promote leadership to his shoulders.<br /><br />We were barely out of town when we turned right off R3 NE road and back onto gravel. The first rolling hill went up at six percent and we began to string out. Frank faded off the back, and Brad asked if we would slow for him. I glanced at Alistair and Adam up the road and responded "It doesn't look like it."<br /><br />That question demonstrated two new tactical factors. We were now riding for Adam in place of Frank. The weak link in Brad's chain was revealed.<br /><br />I calculated we would remain a foursome for the next twenty five miles. I was way off. Two miles later, at mile 91, a four percent stepped climb that extended for two miles broke us further. Adam set a sustainable pace, and I held his wheel. Alistair and Brad failed to hold mine.<br /><br />Over the next five miles, Adam and I pushed a stiff pace and watched our gap grow to 30 seconds. These miles were tough as we were working against a headwind. I was suffering properly. We passed a trio of riders from an earlier wave. All three were riding the same make and model that Adam and I prefer: Ibis Hakka MX. Two miles later, I documented our gap at 45 seconds but also relayed some troubling news. The Hakka trio was working with Alistair and Brad. I watched my mirror over the next ten minutes. They were bringing us back. We sat up in disappointment. Effort wasted. My legs asked that we quit. I thought 'not yet'. Eleven miles after Adam created the split Alistair and Brad had closed it.<br /><br />The next ten miles saw riders joining and exiting the group. The group grew to nine at one point, but not everyone was well suited to riding in formation. A surprise aid station at mile 105 contributed to the group's dis-function and also acted as a catalyst for the recent additions to opt out. The group was whittled down to known solid riders. Adam, Alistair, Brad, and myself. Plus one. A rider named John brought us up to five. He demonstrated his willingness to work and fit right in. Adam continued to demonstrate his strength when he was on point.<br /><br />I did my homework for this gravel race. We knew the final climb would present itself at mile 117. We expected this climb would determine the finish positions. Before we could get to that climb the unraveling began in earnest.<br /><br />We were at mile 111 when Alistair allowed a small gap to open on a short descent. He did not close it. I did not immediately notice he was dropped, but I did take note when Brad let a small gap open up on the next short climb.<br /><br />My mental notes were clear. During the course of the day, I repeatedly observed Brad allow a small gap as we climbed each rolling hill. As the fastest descender in the bunch, he would then close the gap as we rolled back down.<br /><br />On that short climb at mile 113, I observed the first half of the pattern as Brad let that gap open. At the crest, I took two seconds to scan the road forward and confirmed the scenario I had been waiting to see. The road stayed flat. With no descent, Brad would struggle to close the gap. I did my part to extend that struggle by jumping to the front for a long hard pull. When I was winded I flicked John past and - then - waved Adam off, so I could have John's wheel giving Adam some extra rest. One or two minutes later, I took the front and repeated my effort. My reward was neutralizing one more of my teammate's competitors.<br /><br />These miles were tough as I kept my efforts up. My body relentlessly requested that I quit. My mind fought back. I accepted that I might quit - but only on specific terms. I wouldn't let myself give up until I blew up. As we neared mile 117, I had not yet blown up.<br /><br />Behind us Frank was also suffering. He was doing most of the work solo and later reported that he saw some dark times during those final miles.<br /><br />I had invested in getting Adam to the mile 117 climb in the best shape and with the fewest competitors. It was up to him to finalize the deal. He didn't. Not in the way I expected, anyway.<br /><br />Adam set the pace up the final climb. He chose a pace that did not immediately break John nor me. I chose to work on John. We rode side by side, and I gave him permission to suffer less. I gave him permission to let Adam go. I sweetened the proposition by promising him the line before me. He told me he didn't care about finish position. I was skeptical. At the top of the climb, John dug; and we closed the gap up to Adam.<br /><br />It looked like we would ride as a trio to the line. Just two point fives miles from the finish, we faced one small rise. Adam said nothing. Adam did not look over his shoulder. Adam upped the pace and floated off the front. My eyes were riveted to John who did not respond. I whispered that the offer was still good. John said he was done chasing.<br /><br />Adam never did look over his shoulder. John and I enjoyed our conversation over those last few miles while we watched Adam power away to earn twelfth place. I stopped pedaling near the line and instructed John to pull ahead, but John stopped pedaling too. He really didn't care about finish position, and we coasted over the line just a second apart after putting in over seven and one half hours in the saddle.<br /><br />Adam was waiting. The three of us had a nice chat as we soft pedaled through the town of Soap Lake. John was participating in his first Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo and enjoyed the ride and the scenery. Adam confirmed what we already knew. He felt strong all day. I revealed just how close to cracking I was during the final twenty miles.</span></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRbHRyVXh38vmS_yaACtQH7UrCX9nni-ZA0Qd8cBsn1KgGic8xPChfQrbMm4RgRSUMbLal9lDb3Z3NXyv6eBFZfn_owsSUnDnGVc_mVoNwo6jtQ5B3p5OTJnizT82QJIYJLWjaOarBDa4/s2016/242214053_10225592828037335_4175212566657786186_n.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1632498699369000&usg=AFQjCNEA4G9iL3SN9KDv3YOy7XLNuA1X1Q" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRbHRyVXh38vmS_yaACtQH7UrCX9nni-ZA0Qd8cBsn1KgGic8xPChfQrbMm4RgRSUMbLal9lDb3Z3NXyv6eBFZfn_owsSUnDnGVc_mVoNwo6jtQ5B3p5OTJnizT82QJIYJLWjaOarBDa4/s2016/242214053_10225592828037335_4175212566657786186_n.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRbHRyVXh38vmS_yaACtQH7UrCX9nni-ZA0Qd8cBsn1KgGic8xPChfQrbMm4RgRSUMbLal9lDb3Z3NXyv6eBFZfn_owsSUnDnGVc_mVoNwo6jtQ5B3p5OTJnizT82QJIYJLWjaOarBDa4/w640-h480/242214053_10225592828037335_4175212566657786186_n.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Photo courtesy Roger Burton<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><b style="background-color: white;">Epilogue</b><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The four hour drive home seemed easy compared to the time on the bike. We had plenty of time to analyze what worked and why.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We stayed within our limits. We chose to concede the battle up that first climb to make sure we could still stand at the end of the war. Through the middle of the race, we kept our efforts moderate and focused on recharging when possible. The second aid station stop, maybe the longest race day stop of our year, worked wonders to stave off crushing fatigue. As we neared the finish, we pushed just hard enough at just the right times.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">In the past, race day tactics have fallen to Adam. At Soap Lake, I was finally able to make tactical contributions. None of my observations nor moves were race defining, but I demonstrated some improvement in getting my eyes open to the big picture while turning the pedals.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">We smoothly pivoted to support Adam. We agreed Frank is probably the strongest among us, but Frank wasn't having his best day. Adam was. And by a lot. He demonstrated he was the strongest rider in the group all day long.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Gran Fondo Soap Lake was brutal. Full Stop. 125 miles of pavement and gravel. Seven and one half hours on a bicycle saddle. It allowed me to discover the quantity of punishment I am able to endure. Brutal.</span></span><p style="background-color: white;"></p><p style="background-color: white;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ic55BhOlpCYLmIx3BuKvNFIPYh8bJWQPyDbwsY5SQ_NQADj6oeVJPPhwrfGK0irS9VURVk7fjI0X5yMLHXMCKjzECf2JOB1X6zY7hV_sOPcsih3UzhSbLSWF0xoC86TR3LM7ZexOSTc/s2048/IMG_20210919_160956316.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1632498699369000&usg=AFQjCNHPJOBEvOnwBpsr_TqzEjNDFQsZwA" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ic55BhOlpCYLmIx3BuKvNFIPYh8bJWQPyDbwsY5SQ_NQADj6oeVJPPhwrfGK0irS9VURVk7fjI0X5yMLHXMCKjzECf2JOB1X6zY7hV_sOPcsih3UzhSbLSWF0xoC86TR3LM7ZexOSTc/s2048/IMG_20210919_160956316.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ic55BhOlpCYLmIx3BuKvNFIPYh8bJWQPyDbwsY5SQ_NQADj6oeVJPPhwrfGK0irS9VURVk7fjI0X5yMLHXMCKjzECf2JOB1X6zY7hV_sOPcsih3UzhSbLSWF0xoC86TR3LM7ZexOSTc/w640-h480/IMG_20210919_160956316.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Solid day of racing at Gran Fondo Soap Lake. We were pretty pleased with ourselves.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><b style="background-color: white;">Acknowledgement<br /></b><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I didn't get to the finish line without a load of help. Frank and Adam provided the enthusiasm I needed to take on the challenge. Adam, Alistair, Brad, Frank, and John all put their noses into the wind for my benefit. Jake and Karen of Vicious Cycles Promotions were able to create Gran Fondo Soap Lake on a tight timeline. There were countless volunteers that worked the aid stations and registration desk and drove the support vehicles. Thank you for your support.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">Adam and I have shared a great season of gravel racing. He has been my mentor on all subjects training. He has helped me see the big picture during our gravel racing. He has demonstrated and inspired the willingness to work hard for the success of another. He has allowed me to be part of a team of which I am quite proud. Thank you.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-48100323827279415952021-09-16T19:04:00.004-07:002021-09-16T19:04:47.340-07:00 Circuit Racing at Pacific Raceways<p> Author: Dwaine Trummert</p><p><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In June, with my gravel season in the mirror, I found another cycling discipline to sample. Circuit racing on pavement at Pacific Raceways tickled my interest. It was also meant to be a fitness bridge into training for cyclocross season. I leveraged my relationship with some of the Fell Swoop racers to help me stay out of trouble and more safely learn the ropes.<br /><br />I stepped into my first event guided by the "run what 'ya brung" mantra. My gravel bike, designed as much for cyclocross, was outfitted with road tires and sent into battle.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /><b>Race Day One 7/6/2021</b><br /><br />My goals were pretty simple going into my first event. Most importantly, I needed to stay upright and not pull any bonehead moves that put my fellow competitors at risk. Apparently, the skills learned riding in the gravel peloton translated well. After just a lap or two, I was relaxed in the pack. My instincts prevented me from committing any pack racing etiquette violations.<br /><br />My secondary goal was more broad. I wanted to get a taste of the various scenarios that take place in a typical circuit race. I spent time 'sitting in' mid pack to gain comfort in tight quarters. I moved to the back to feel the 'yo-yo' and benefit from more draft affect. I spent some time near the front to witness the strong racers push the pace up or make break away attempts.<br /><br />At one point, I even signaled a Fell Swooper to get on my wheel as I worked up to the front and pushed up the pace. My effort did little to affect the outcome of the race. It did allow another check mark on the list of first time racing experiences.<br /><br />At three laps to go, I pulled the plug. A break of five riders was off the front and the peloton was strung out and chasing in earnest. I could feel the fatigue creeping in and worried my bike handling might begin to suffer. I flicked an elbow to warn the rider behind that he would need to fill my position and then found a wide section of the tarmac to pull out line. The peloton continued on to a bunch sprint finish. I pedaled solo to the line content that I avoided any big mistakes.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHd5K9vkXb5rh0WjJ4YB_53Z9ygAb_yklxBc_cjJeL2LeP1Pj5g_DdZIZ4POy0CwvKe-CaQ0eGmZOIGggAyvaNRKtik30cRShGAFPcJRZtirKueElmZ23Cl2bX31mcOopM4SC2Z6ZPjUc/s2000/ibis-against-fence-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHd5K9vkXb5rh0WjJ4YB_53Z9ygAb_yklxBc_cjJeL2LeP1Pj5g_DdZIZ4POy0CwvKe-CaQ0eGmZOIGggAyvaNRKtik30cRShGAFPcJRZtirKueElmZ23Cl2bX31mcOopM4SC2Z6ZPjUc/w512-h640/ibis-against-fence-1.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="512" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px; text-align: center;">Ibis Hakka MX impersonating a road race bicycle.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In the days that followed my first all pavement bike race I took stock.</span><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br />My bike handling was up to the task. My legs were not. Two months without structured training had taken the edge off my fitness. My Ibis Hakka MX was both familiar and comfortable at Pacific Raceways. But it was not the best tool for the job. Most importantly, I had fun and wanted to give it another go.<br /><br />Structured training resumed immediately. I didn't need peak fitness to enjoy racing at PR, but I did need to regain some of what was lost. I simple goal of one hour of intensity per week along with a moderate amount of volume would likely move the fitness needle in the right direction. Five weeks seemed long enough to restore some strength, and I circled the last four Tuesdays in August as my targeted race dates.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My gravel bike was an imperfect road race bike. I had fitted a larger chainring and skinnier tires. Both changes helped but they were just lipstick. There exist plenty of bikes designed for road racing but the race garage contained none. Mike, a good friend of similar height, did have a suitable candidate. A borrow agreement was reached, and his older Calfee Tetra Pro was transferred into my possession. I hadn't ridden a proper road race bike in a while. The Calfee seemed pretty quick. A set of used carbon aero wheels were found on Craigslist which only added to that sprightly feeling. </p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiVDw6mOTdSxpVHOl0f7vGQXElf-DSbczR-KHY_ClD8rJqfR_JWPb-CAhBl8LCYLdRe9IZaZm2F_Oe2P0SvkZTyJH1tf6P_-3AZ_IiHGTwZXtVFFNhFlkbx4gean1vyAgBMSwGe8B0cSs/s2000/calfee-against-fence-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiVDw6mOTdSxpVHOl0f7vGQXElf-DSbczR-KHY_ClD8rJqfR_JWPb-CAhBl8LCYLdRe9IZaZm2F_Oe2P0SvkZTyJH1tf6P_-3AZ_IiHGTwZXtVFFNhFlkbx4gean1vyAgBMSwGe8B0cSs/w512-h640/calfee-against-fence-1.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="512" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px; text-align: center;">Mikes older Calfee Tetra Pro was an ideal tool for fast laps around a paved race course.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Before I arrived for my second race I checked in with team Fell Swoop. I inquired if they might guide me in learning the more tactical aspects of circuit racing and if they might accept my offer to 'work' with the team. They accepted, and I enjoyed being on the 'inside' for the pre-race tactical chatter. With near zero tactical experience, I could offer only limited help. Covering or bringing back breaks that lacked a Fell Swooper was my only assignment.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Race Day Two 8/10/2021</b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">My second race wasn't all that much different than the first. I continued spending time mid pack getting the feel for how riders move about the peloton. I floated to the front to watch riders make their moves. I covered a few when I could. When Fell Swooper Thomas got off the front with ten other riders, I contributed nothing to the chase. Towards the end, when the break away group was caught, I moved up towards the front. The pace was high, and I had not yet been in the thick of a sprint finish. As we neared the end of the final lap, the pace was up and riders were aggressively jostling for position. Forty five seconds from the finish my nerves got the best of me, and I gracefully pulled out of the pack. The 'Sprint finish' check box would remain unchecked yet again.</span></span></span></p><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Race Day Three 8/17/2021</b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I was climbing the steep bit of the tactical learning curve, the Fell Swoopers were beginning to become comfortable with me within their ranks. Thomas was lying third on season points and the team intended a more deliberate effort to support him via a lead out train. I offered to work towards this goal and a rough plan was in place before the race.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The lead out plan became moot as we learned we would be racing the 'Escape Route' course. Escape Route utilized the back section of Pacific Raceways which included a small descent and climb. That climb, as short as it is, disrupts any lead out trains. In the positive column, I would get to experience a new set of tactical challenges related to this course.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The first lap down the hill set me on my heels. The peloton grew wings, and we flew at speeds North of 40 m.p.h. After each trip down, a few strong riders pushed the pace climbing back up the other side and the peloton was forced to answer.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Near the end of the second lap, I was given an opportunity to check off another racing experience check box. A group of eight strong climbers, including a Fell Swooper, had created a small gap climbing up the hill. I followed the wheel of the rider leading the chase effort. When his elbow flicked, I took the front and performed my best false tempo. A feather could have knocked me to the ground when I looked over my shoulder ten or fifteen seconds later. The peloton had slowed behind me creating a small gap. Appreciating this gift, I pushed 650 watts for the next fifteen seconds to bridge up the the break away group. At about this time, a much stronger rider also chose to bridge from mid pack - but the peloton was not offering a second gift. They chased and the break away was caught shortly thereafter. I did not check the box 'Get into a break'.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The remainder of my race was spent staying clear of trouble on the descent, patrolling the front, and discovering that my ability to endure the short climb was above average. The break away group was well up the road, but the peloton would not finish easy. On the final trip up, I had some matches to burn. Two riders, including Fell Swooper Z, charged up; and I responded. Z ran out of steam leaving me second wheel. Fifteen seconds later I was leading the peloton within sight of the finish but without any tactical direction. I had no Fell Swoopers on my wheel and no chance of holding a finish effort from this far out. I kept moderate pressure on the pedals, and let the strong riders come past and get on with their finish sprint. Checking the box 'Observe sprint finish' offered little consolation.</span></p><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Race Day Four 8/24/2021</b></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">After my previous week's efforts, the Swoopers were warming up to my help. I adopted the title 'subcontractor' as I worked for the team but lacked a membership card. This day Fell Swoop turned out thirteen teammates and me. This was just over one quarter of the field. Plans were adopted to make many attacks and simply wear down any and all chasers. I was given the tasks of covering a particular competitor and jumping onto breaks when feasible. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">This race also offered a new tactical twist as it was a 'point per lap' scoring format. In short, the first and second riders over the line each lap gained points. Most accumulated points at the finish was the winner.</p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDjmnI4CqOdQOj_fgMNtZfiwKGuP0le8-Z0vbJSKt3e_I0ZWOZEReJVK4Kr_5ooAh1a-QkUMSAh0D1-LJpE9jupiOv6bGi3FASe1MloL0GcDcn5Gy45RizWacpgvUbRS2u46tsP4T22M/s1442/fell-swoop-pacific-raceways-2021.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="649" data-original-width="1442" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrDjmnI4CqOdQOj_fgMNtZfiwKGuP0le8-Z0vbJSKt3e_I0ZWOZEReJVK4Kr_5ooAh1a-QkUMSAh0D1-LJpE9jupiOv6bGi3FASe1MloL0GcDcn5Gy45RizWacpgvUbRS2u46tsP4T22M/w640-h288/fell-swoop-pacific-raceways-2021.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px; text-align: center;">The Fell Swoop team prepares to race at Pacific Raceways. Photo courtesy Z-Dog of team Fell Swoop.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Just as in the week before, the plans fell apart almost immediately. The first break away attempt of the night, literally from the start line, succeeded and had a rider named Ted and Fell Swooper Travis. Neither Ted's team nor Fell Swoop were willing to chase, and they stayed off the front for the entire race. They also collected every point which earned Travis second rung on the podium. This made for a less than exciting race for the rest of us.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Oddly, some riders still chose to sprint for the finish line every lap. With an abbreviated sprint group, I realized my 'Sprint Finish' box could be checked in a relative safe environment. At about the halfway point of the race, I positioned myself about fifth wheel as we approached the line. I rode that wheel as long as possible. My timing was pretty good. My ten second power, just under 1000 watts, was as good as this non sprinter could expect. Two other riders powered past before we reached the line, and I shut it down. Box checked. Finally.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">On the final lap I participated in an attempt at a lead out train. I took my position in line. I took my turn at the front. I put in a big effort, but we weren't able to sustain the train to the finish line. It was an excellent trial by fire and helped me comprehend just how difficult it is to execute a proper lead out train.</span></p><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Race Day Five 8/31/2021</b></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Our previous week's lead out effort catalyzed more conversation around another attempt. The final race of the PR season was scheduled to be only 30 minutes in length. The pace was hot. A few surges occurred at the front. I covered when I could, but the high speeds curbed the enthusiasm for a serious break away attempt. Most of the race was spent holding on to whichever fast wheel came my way. On the final lap, Fell Swoop again attempted to assemble a lead out train; and again it was not sustained to the finish. Another big effort on my part solidified the team's appreciation of my help.</span></p><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Conclusion</b></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">On the subject of circuit racing, I concluded the following: I stayed upright. I didn't embarrass myself. I had a ball.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Circuit racing at Pacific Raceways was quite rewarding. I went in with the goals of a new experience and some gained fitness. I came out with a strong appreciation for the trifecta of strength, tactics, and teamwork that is required to compete at the front. I cannot guarantee how much circuit racing I will do next year. But, as a clue, I can confirm the renewal of my 'bike borrow' agreement.</span></p><p><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Acknowledgment</b></span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The success of this endeavor required help from others. The members of Fell Swoop, especially Z, lowered my apprehensions over pavement racing and welcomed me in with open arms. I don't know that I could have crossed over without their help. On the material side, I need to thank Mike for loaning me a competitive and beautiful collection of carbon, titanium, and aluminum in the form of the Calfee Tetra Pro. Unlike my gravel bike, it has been a near perfect tool for the job.</span></p><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-43868990612497761232021-09-04T09:08:00.001-07:002021-09-13T10:35:50.203-07:002021-08-28 & 29: "Bike Packing" Weekend (Dwaine & Adam)<p>Author: Dwaine Trummert</p><div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2px; margin: 0px;"><p>When the planning started for our bike packing to trip to Easton Washington, we were not targeting the most grand adventure. As rookies, our goal was a simple and enjoyable trip where we tested our gear in a low stress environment. We aimed to find out what worked, what didn't, and what was going to break.<br /><br />We wanted to keep the route simple. An out and back along the Palouse to Cascades trail fit the bill. We wanted to keep the logistics simple. Lake Easton Campground with access to a local burger joint and convenience store was chosen as our destination.<br /><br />We departed North Bend under sunny skies. We were familiar with the route and quickly fell into conversation about work and family. Adam shared his son's recent soccer success. I shared my latest bicycle road racing lessons. Before we knew it we were making our only turn.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB76H-uTTuZBtx9CUvKw_UohvYAhhndMy9DCQA7ZNTPN2qwB1FcVjADu-uf-BVu2wwIB_ds1h1Cv-3zt3FA2JUsEIBtINbcn1PvAPoiyo6IavpOh-yT4zgyFE-qXG8x2I8rSyAxFY8hTE/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-1.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869262000&usg=AFQjCNFawQ4FDlYJ-pjzHms7Gd_EsIjCrA" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB76H-uTTuZBtx9CUvKw_UohvYAhhndMy9DCQA7ZNTPN2qwB1FcVjADu-uf-BVu2wwIB_ds1h1Cv-3zt3FA2JUsEIBtINbcn1PvAPoiyo6IavpOh-yT4zgyFE-qXG8x2I8rSyAxFY8hTE/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-1.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB76H-uTTuZBtx9CUvKw_UohvYAhhndMy9DCQA7ZNTPN2qwB1FcVjADu-uf-BVu2wwIB_ds1h1Cv-3zt3FA2JUsEIBtINbcn1PvAPoiyo6IavpOh-yT4zgyFE-qXG8x2I8rSyAxFY8hTE/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">After seven miles we took a minute to check gear and make adjustments. At 38 pounds fully loaded my Ibis Hakka MX was no lightweight.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>The Nisqually Valley Trail ends where the Palouse to Cascades Trail begins. We stopped to utilize the facilities and assess our progress. We were moving nicely despite our bikes' heft. We agreed our bikes felt sluggish but nothing we couldn't adjust to.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_6Mbly30zgX8b8VtmBMiW7Q-vKiNkvfvPKpQitlSOCOFcGyeR17l_PloDE7Z_WARWnvY7MGVVHSNF17o1MByHNWZKh5adEgchBAiwcRybCoi_xyOQr_Fk_tIoV7JOOqJGsj_BpIXGnc/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-2.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869262000&usg=AFQjCNFLozd1lOUA6mjtFmdraXLebBH_zA" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_6Mbly30zgX8b8VtmBMiW7Q-vKiNkvfvPKpQitlSOCOFcGyeR17l_PloDE7Z_WARWnvY7MGVVHSNF17o1MByHNWZKh5adEgchBAiwcRybCoi_xyOQr_Fk_tIoV7JOOqJGsj_BpIXGnc/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-2.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_6Mbly30zgX8b8VtmBMiW7Q-vKiNkvfvPKpQitlSOCOFcGyeR17l_PloDE7Z_WARWnvY7MGVVHSNF17o1MByHNWZKh5adEgchBAiwcRybCoi_xyOQr_Fk_tIoV7JOOqJGsj_BpIXGnc/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">My Ibis Hakka and Adam's Norco Search XR hang out atop one of the many gravel surfaced train trestles.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>We pressed forward onto the climb. It was long. 19 miles. But it was shallow. Less than 2% average gradient. Nobody tipped over. Nothing fell off. Nothing broke. We were having fun, and the miles came easily. We arrived at the tunnel in good spirits.<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUHdLfVRPbYr49hOLUVq4S05-c4z7T5SboNhrH9XbfpgeKKsWs3WK03wCwetDcjKivoAqecKytw3lonXQqc58nPfJfOWGjih7DFFwOBn-7ar0JuLR7Jz2ufe8MsAWpzIwcWUVF2e9kAo/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-4.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869262000&usg=AFQjCNFx9BOS1rqc1JeKxbRVjolkIyta_g" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUHdLfVRPbYr49hOLUVq4S05-c4z7T5SboNhrH9XbfpgeKKsWs3WK03wCwetDcjKivoAqecKytw3lonXQqc58nPfJfOWGjih7DFFwOBn-7ar0JuLR7Jz2ufe8MsAWpzIwcWUVF2e9kAo/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-4.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUHdLfVRPbYr49hOLUVq4S05-c4z7T5SboNhrH9XbfpgeKKsWs3WK03wCwetDcjKivoAqecKytw3lonXQqc58nPfJfOWGjih7DFFwOBn-7ar0JuLR7Jz2ufe8MsAWpzIwcWUVF2e9kAo/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-4.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Adam geared up for the cool temperatures of the tunnel with this fancy flannel cycling jersey.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LgmWAQNo_vNhpyeiL4XK3zkk0mo3v3Q6cj7-StxJRGnaLur3bApH1f8z4Bn2FV8bGWiRYoj-WYokzNb7nQyO5z5DMkrR2mfHkyIebbv-r6Wsu7ThBpFOUkZ_WZhRZ-0IF5L1SIosWPU/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-3.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNGFb89yq3BH5ZZ_UOAtQdhVAX0KJg" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LgmWAQNo_vNhpyeiL4XK3zkk0mo3v3Q6cj7-StxJRGnaLur3bApH1f8z4Bn2FV8bGWiRYoj-WYokzNb7nQyO5z5DMkrR2mfHkyIebbv-r6Wsu7ThBpFOUkZ_WZhRZ-0IF5L1SIosWPU/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-3.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LgmWAQNo_vNhpyeiL4XK3zkk0mo3v3Q6cj7-StxJRGnaLur3bApH1f8z4Bn2FV8bGWiRYoj-WYokzNb7nQyO5z5DMkrR2mfHkyIebbv-r6Wsu7ThBpFOUkZ_WZhRZ-0IF5L1SIosWPU/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">We were about to cycle into the dark.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The darkness of the tunnel parted for us and our estimated 2000 lumens of handlebar lights. The 2.5 miles was completed without incident, and we were soon enjoying the scenery of Eastern Washington.<br /></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCWsQUMzaacK7Vf0WXXNv8JhwxBZKcrAGJ_fGwxbzVbWgpHL971txl8g4k8BzBeWK9fvBiB8dc-m5T58aumjgp5LDtWXotdi3hDYpH8_sW-RH4JNr72BlBIFa6dfttQvA-PxdftHBa9A/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-5.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNHkO3gq_szkLJ33ptjDyBvSpo7X_w" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCWsQUMzaacK7Vf0WXXNv8JhwxBZKcrAGJ_fGwxbzVbWgpHL971txl8g4k8BzBeWK9fvBiB8dc-m5T58aumjgp5LDtWXotdi3hDYpH8_sW-RH4JNr72BlBIFa6dfttQvA-PxdftHBa9A/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-5.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCWsQUMzaacK7Vf0WXXNv8JhwxBZKcrAGJ_fGwxbzVbWgpHL971txl8g4k8BzBeWK9fvBiB8dc-m5T58aumjgp5LDtWXotdi3hDYpH8_sW-RH4JNr72BlBIFa6dfttQvA-PxdftHBa9A/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-5.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">I stopped for this photo just as we were about to emerge from the tunnel into Eastern Washington.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Riding along the shores of Lake Keechelus was beautiful. We took note that the water level was down compared to our last visit. We kept an eye out for Helicopter Rock but must have missed it. We also kept an eye out for other bikepackers. We saw evidence of a bar bag here and a frame bag there. But none looked stuffed enough to contain gear for camping.<br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLG4OpBDWW5jc4JDTo_LZKpicRvuHhyphenhyphen_Ve_W-09rOnFG47t6sAbHFCXnh5QRvRQf_X6x-vYN3Uroc5_pwjdiMv-eXINz0UWP7CVAVf1O0BBleP6qKOovsnWF1bqRt2Mn0jCYWXZ2AWB3w/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-6.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNFFwZjNbC8SQOrrOFQ8F49pXvjz8A" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLG4OpBDWW5jc4JDTo_LZKpicRvuHhyphenhyphen_Ve_W-09rOnFG47t6sAbHFCXnh5QRvRQf_X6x-vYN3Uroc5_pwjdiMv-eXINz0UWP7CVAVf1O0BBleP6qKOovsnWF1bqRt2Mn0jCYWXZ2AWB3w/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-6.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLG4OpBDWW5jc4JDTo_LZKpicRvuHhyphenhyphen_Ve_W-09rOnFG47t6sAbHFCXnh5QRvRQf_X6x-vYN3Uroc5_pwjdiMv-eXINz0UWP7CVAVf1O0BBleP6qKOovsnWF1bqRt2Mn0jCYWXZ2AWB3w/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-6.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Lake Keechelus was beautiful on this day with spectacularly reflective water.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />In addition to the 2.5 mile tunnel at Hyak we passed through a tunnel near Martin. This tunnel was short enough to easily see the exit as we entered. I hesitated to turn on my head light but was glad I did when it illuminated a hole in the right side of the trail. Adam was able to dodge a matching hole on the left side of the trail. Later, we realized that stopping to fill the holes would have been the kindly thing to do. We committed to this action on the next day's return trip.</p><p>We arrived at the Lake Easton Campground well before the 2:30 check in time. Neither first-come-first-serve hiker/biker campsite was claimed. We parked our bikes, completed the registration process, and breathed a sigh of relief that we knew for sure where we would be bedding down.<br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TwE6tJ1CzVqEfOYRq8CTla6YxAj9JJVDCKuoG5NQAc8Xhd9tod_FZyjSPjNbBCsuA7iYQYtCIGwEoqIzk25s-TctqJfVwPx_qcCewVN0GO190bzoLDIHOh__S6fiYPCilvkmjL2sBgk/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-8.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNE5Ib4KOJcFpS3NmKT2s_gRRU-CNw" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TwE6tJ1CzVqEfOYRq8CTla6YxAj9JJVDCKuoG5NQAc8Xhd9tod_FZyjSPjNbBCsuA7iYQYtCIGwEoqIzk25s-TctqJfVwPx_qcCewVN0GO190bzoLDIHOh__S6fiYPCilvkmjL2sBgk/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-8.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TwE6tJ1CzVqEfOYRq8CTla6YxAj9JJVDCKuoG5NQAc8Xhd9tod_FZyjSPjNbBCsuA7iYQYtCIGwEoqIzk25s-TctqJfVwPx_qcCewVN0GO190bzoLDIHOh__S6fiYPCilvkmjL2sBgk/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">We set our tiny tents at the tiny hiker/biker campsite. A second hiker/biker campsite remained unused.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br />It seemed wise to get a few camp chores out of the way, and we started with tent assembly. Adam had little practice with his recently acquired one man tent, but it went up quickly. My tent assembly practice seemed fruitless as my tent went up slowly. Once completed, we decided to reward ourselves with lunch and some light-bike exploring in and around Easton.<br /><br />We found few options for lunch but the one we chose was a good one. A local burger place called Mountain High Burgers served giant burgers. We took refuge on a shaded picnic table behind the restaurant and replenished the calories previously depleted.<br /></p><p>With full bellies, we took the remainder of our exploration at a friendly pace. Our last stop was the Hitching Post convenience store. I checked in on their pizza service which was available till six p.m. Adam checked out with a cold six pack of Dru Bru Hazy Session IPA.<br /><br />Once back at the campground we had six cans and a few hours to kill. The cold IPA was perfect after the many hours of pedaling. We goofed off around the campsite till the dinner hour.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLd9XqeyuWDuEchJzDUOYhbq1tliEL817vtAjihzBp7w-o2vFz9VAB3npjs3I2v2AfMupUk0rVRF65P-P5XvMIDGAjOhC9hMH7THVs1OXlsR5HO-2z49Jsh7gH1XWXp4k9cM3sKYuQdug/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-9.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNEGtcr0Rhl9Gn34ZI8ATZ735p2Y4A" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLd9XqeyuWDuEchJzDUOYhbq1tliEL817vtAjihzBp7w-o2vFz9VAB3npjs3I2v2AfMupUk0rVRF65P-P5XvMIDGAjOhC9hMH7THVs1OXlsR5HO-2z49Jsh7gH1XWXp4k9cM3sKYuQdug/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-9.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLd9XqeyuWDuEchJzDUOYhbq1tliEL817vtAjihzBp7w-o2vFz9VAB3npjs3I2v2AfMupUk0rVRF65P-P5XvMIDGAjOhC9hMH7THVs1OXlsR5HO-2z49Jsh7gH1XWXp4k9cM3sKYuQdug/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-9.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">We hung out at the Hitching Post. We watched the world go by. We were not in a hurry. It was perfect.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>In the theme of keeping the trip simple, we ordered a sausage and peperoni pizza from the Hitching Post for dinner. As we waited outside at the picnic tables for the pizza to bake, we watched a parade of people and vehicles come and go.<br /><br />A pair of four wheel drive off road buggies stopped for a while, and I chatted with one driver. Plenty of car campers stopped for fuel. One gentleman walked back and forth a number of times, and we took him for the owner. He seemed plenty busy. He even checked in that his leaf blower wasn't a nuisance. It wasn't until our final interaction that I even noticed he was packing heat. This came as no surprise as we had already read the store's politically conservative reader board message.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNlEnNQpdPAwYfCWopF3PlIpLBSWPP9QqtD6Lj8GnVE7mS9BzWCoSstk6sZadEEwNMh5s8Wb7o0euYfkWe4LlGiycoZQzWILjfhLc7fqtL2o5ISGmjiQAMbmXc4I4qLmnZxzwI0ScnDo/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-10.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNGt3IsegrxqhDB8xB_63uJ51DCDVA" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNlEnNQpdPAwYfCWopF3PlIpLBSWPP9QqtD6Lj8GnVE7mS9BzWCoSstk6sZadEEwNMh5s8Wb7o0euYfkWe4LlGiycoZQzWILjfhLc7fqtL2o5ISGmjiQAMbmXc4I4qLmnZxzwI0ScnDo/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-10.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNlEnNQpdPAwYfCWopF3PlIpLBSWPP9QqtD6Lj8GnVE7mS9BzWCoSstk6sZadEEwNMh5s8Wb7o0euYfkWe4LlGiycoZQzWILjfhLc7fqtL2o5ISGmjiQAMbmXc4I4qLmnZxzwI0ScnDo/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-10.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Yeah! Pizza! Was this the best pizza ever? Probably not. Did we devour it anyway? Yep.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>The pizza was well received and we paired it with a shared 22 oz bottle of dark beer.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicIxjyb5Yi3JCF3ENHYJ3UUBqNi78y0n_5-vNwMAwkJG4yzc4RSmpmVDstdL160ZHGNVF0LUVeKH-fNQZdcL3sVlpVSd0fr4hoCb9FXrUpwB-EVxc-OduBXrdDPNhMH1VFLg21taGVcPk/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-11.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNHkR06slEHpN26uW4CjfvWMJrZMtg" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicIxjyb5Yi3JCF3ENHYJ3UUBqNi78y0n_5-vNwMAwkJG4yzc4RSmpmVDstdL160ZHGNVF0LUVeKH-fNQZdcL3sVlpVSd0fr4hoCb9FXrUpwB-EVxc-OduBXrdDPNhMH1VFLg21taGVcPk/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-11.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicIxjyb5Yi3JCF3ENHYJ3UUBqNi78y0n_5-vNwMAwkJG4yzc4RSmpmVDstdL160ZHGNVF0LUVeKH-fNQZdcL3sVlpVSd0fr4hoCb9FXrUpwB-EVxc-OduBXrdDPNhMH1VFLg21taGVcPk/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">My camera caught Adam's phone documenting our campsite.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The theme of 'goofing off' continued when we returned to the campsite. Photos were taken. More beer was consumed. Sunset came too early as did bedtime.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8hnaEZjEknic7ZMj9_JVXlnn8-xLAauH6sp-J3X3T0rDyY1lXoNUgDrKx9YyQ2mYpA7gVXgfnRvpJ6QXBvrLmjHrvIhgBQa9LG88zUuZr4DizBgwlhe6lO8vJhpQFbWnDTtvsJiVm30/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-12.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNFtwWbcqwhazZy9Kkt9aAnGZtuzFQ" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8hnaEZjEknic7ZMj9_JVXlnn8-xLAauH6sp-J3X3T0rDyY1lXoNUgDrKx9YyQ2mYpA7gVXgfnRvpJ6QXBvrLmjHrvIhgBQa9LG88zUuZr4DizBgwlhe6lO8vJhpQFbWnDTtvsJiVm30/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-12.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8hnaEZjEknic7ZMj9_JVXlnn8-xLAauH6sp-J3X3T0rDyY1lXoNUgDrKx9YyQ2mYpA7gVXgfnRvpJ6QXBvrLmjHrvIhgBQa9LG88zUuZr4DizBgwlhe6lO8vJhpQFbWnDTtvsJiVm30/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-12.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">My bicycle water bottles adopted the local beer's labels. This photo shared only to demonstrate we had too much time on our hands.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlW3Yny_KtRQPWyPVAjOJHK2ORiZvK2pnplOWqfzK7Jrf5na-pVLU8_oAD7b-9hvdjEN5VA8g5iRDpBqSznWeWbR7KDtDIuWzXOx_-ltv-uFVA9voYsy6Od1onq-dFM5Yyaj4gJQRdFs/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-13.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNGlksS2J7MAjvIsDLmS9os-UAJRXA" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlW3Yny_KtRQPWyPVAjOJHK2ORiZvK2pnplOWqfzK7Jrf5na-pVLU8_oAD7b-9hvdjEN5VA8g5iRDpBqSznWeWbR7KDtDIuWzXOx_-ltv-uFVA9voYsy6Od1onq-dFM5Yyaj4gJQRdFs/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-13.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlW3Yny_KtRQPWyPVAjOJHK2ORiZvK2pnplOWqfzK7Jrf5na-pVLU8_oAD7b-9hvdjEN5VA8g5iRDpBqSznWeWbR7KDtDIuWzXOx_-ltv-uFVA9voYsy6Od1onq-dFM5Yyaj4gJQRdFs/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-13.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Small tent and tall rider.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Finding some semblance of comfort while sleeping during a bike packing trip was always going to be a challenge. My night started rough. I brought extra layers for warmth but found it difficult to add them inside my one person tent. The effects of extra beer and car noise from nearby I90 challenged my normal sleep pattern. Halfway through the night, I found the right number of layers and some restful hours of sleep.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFe6ZLvEbEqmHQ589JzngSGm-a8sWv3LFpcZ5BtxKU_brEV-7FAnWr0mSeVwoF1Rn1wodh-URBPff7lpik8HPSwKc7R9RZYHs2iMPkjhAsuRetNQ6tAz5g_v7ihUUn3LIxdPWTK2uARw/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-14.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNFZcL9nvfaGtUyIjUOzR9tx1OIszg" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFe6ZLvEbEqmHQ589JzngSGm-a8sWv3LFpcZ5BtxKU_brEV-7FAnWr0mSeVwoF1Rn1wodh-URBPff7lpik8HPSwKc7R9RZYHs2iMPkjhAsuRetNQ6tAz5g_v7ihUUn3LIxdPWTK2uARw/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-14.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFe6ZLvEbEqmHQ589JzngSGm-a8sWv3LFpcZ5BtxKU_brEV-7FAnWr0mSeVwoF1Rn1wodh-URBPff7lpik8HPSwKc7R9RZYHs2iMPkjhAsuRetNQ6tAz5g_v7ihUUn3LIxdPWTK2uARw/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-14.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">I snapped a selfie on Sunday morning. Our faces made clear that Adam was one coffee ahead of me at that moment.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>In the morning, we tested our cooking systems. Knowing that a coffee shop was just five minutes of pedaling away gave us confidence that our coffee and breakfast needs would be met regardless of our cook systems' performance.<br /><br />I chose a nearly all DIY cooking solution. A DIY soda can alcohol stove surrounded by a DIY wind break heated a cook pot I made from a stainless water bottle bottom. This was sufficient to prepare both my coffee and a serving of oatmeal.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfWGtHC1JNyc6qz6b6pYDqYe2j4U5n-VEyzPSuBZXL8r2pSlz3GOMvfMcqCDvy-jmYrVjtGrb7xLgNHdD1SMePAGbl40SCWiKQCxiSG_-XBSjHnzUowpJ9899vQdpqCakKGfUGHudEA8/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-15.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNFLQ8Ke9bC3m_qw7X2m2I8PTThdAg" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfWGtHC1JNyc6qz6b6pYDqYe2j4U5n-VEyzPSuBZXL8r2pSlz3GOMvfMcqCDvy-jmYrVjtGrb7xLgNHdD1SMePAGbl40SCWiKQCxiSG_-XBSjHnzUowpJ9899vQdpqCakKGfUGHudEA8/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-15.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfWGtHC1JNyc6qz6b6pYDqYe2j4U5n-VEyzPSuBZXL8r2pSlz3GOMvfMcqCDvy-jmYrVjtGrb7xLgNHdD1SMePAGbl40SCWiKQCxiSG_-XBSjHnzUowpJ9899vQdpqCakKGfUGHudEA8/w640-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-15.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">The alcohol flame is tough to see but my stove was in action for this photo. Just minutes later, I poured my first cup of bike packing coffee into my recycled paper cup. It was good enough.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuV4mmB5nB-njUgW2-vtbCrLnS1X9MihxoaKWwmhW1pUsUV66LRI474Cf54jNQAQuZF-x_MURSvFJqaie75crFwWlWrcrjqU4f-40XJhj0ogACnglr9WcsD6f8D0nC9JbBUtV3F61Q8Y0/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-16.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNHQBpaAISoPQwoirbW5_n53w6Y1pw" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuV4mmB5nB-njUgW2-vtbCrLnS1X9MihxoaKWwmhW1pUsUV66LRI474Cf54jNQAQuZF-x_MURSvFJqaie75crFwWlWrcrjqU4f-40XJhj0ogACnglr9WcsD6f8D0nC9JbBUtV3F61Q8Y0/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-16.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuV4mmB5nB-njUgW2-vtbCrLnS1X9MihxoaKWwmhW1pUsUV66LRI474Cf54jNQAQuZF-x_MURSvFJqaie75crFwWlWrcrjqU4f-40XJhj0ogACnglr9WcsD6f8D0nC9JbBUtV3F61Q8Y0/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-16.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">As we tidied the campsite, a single unopened beer was found. Fearing it go to waste Adam found room for it. On his waist.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Over the next two hours, we slowly broke down camp. Just after ten a.m., we were pedaling West. We settled into a gentler pace than our previous day.</p><p>We entered the short tunnel cautiously only to find evidence that a good samaritan had already filled the holes.<br /><br />Further West, we found the lighting along Lake Keechelus was beautiful. We visually searched the shore but - again - could not locate Helicoptor Rock. It seemed so easy to find last year, but that's likely because the helicoptor was sitting on it. We also took a short detour down onto the dry lake bed at the Northwest end. The lake bed looked smooth from up on the trail but not so much once we got there.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" class="CToWUd a6T" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVMs6FC0XsmRwouclIbAXUUhQjfLqCh_OS6-UNmrvHoSicttpyJgB11ZqCfTyBiKKKEFIvSTuUeD6LWcDSMdOe8Ofp9-7jr9xbQpkBlEzhvlz9RbC4uSh2-5hOPNoYjYF8JzSNOo_LGQ/w480-h640/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-17.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; outline: 0px;" tabindex="0" width="480" /></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Miles of smooth gravel, mountains all around, and a sky full of sunshine. This snap was taken as we approached the Hyak parking lot.</td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVMs6FC0XsmRwouclIbAXUUhQjfLqCh_OS6-UNmrvHoSicttpyJgB11ZqCfTyBiKKKEFIvSTuUeD6LWcDSMdOe8Ofp9-7jr9xbQpkBlEzhvlz9RbC4uSh2-5hOPNoYjYF8JzSNOo_LGQ/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-17.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNF_1JKkFlzdPpiiL5fABr3l_Y3qOg" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVMs6FC0XsmRwouclIbAXUUhQjfLqCh_OS6-UNmrvHoSicttpyJgB11ZqCfTyBiKKKEFIvSTuUeD6LWcDSMdOe8Ofp9-7jr9xbQpkBlEzhvlz9RbC4uSh2-5hOPNoYjYF8JzSNOo_LGQ/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-17.jpg" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvXLbsFjUfciJFmSP9xLemE5yMzKdWmuTMYRN39mlBjNvQOqgJ0q0QCoAI1AcZZwJnXAXppA-eMGSW45ExhrFalrWNmZjgnCiN5CNqFAMkobUpCp9hiRD6KZkGLMD3FKVl5DBsVxVgIA/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-18.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNHRtvddt1TCY-P8hLHTDgzWMxFBjw" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvXLbsFjUfciJFmSP9xLemE5yMzKdWmuTMYRN39mlBjNvQOqgJ0q0QCoAI1AcZZwJnXAXppA-eMGSW45ExhrFalrWNmZjgnCiN5CNqFAMkobUpCp9hiRD6KZkGLMD3FKVl5DBsVxVgIA/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-18.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"></a><br /></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><p><br /></p></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><p>After filling bottles at the Hyak parking lot, we tackled the long tunnel one more time. We had to work against a headwind, and it seemed much colder this time.<br /><br />We passed tens if not hundreds of pedestrians and cyclists as we finished out the miles. We slowed and waved as we passed. Most seemed to be having fun. Only one swerved into our path giving us a chance to test our bike handling skills. We waved to that rider as well.<br /><br />During the final miles, we talked about our impressions from our first bike packing trip. We committed to doing it again. Our research and preparation served us well. Adam lamented his choice of bib shorts. They provided 'one day only' comfort. I felt like the trip seemed to be ending too soon.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvXLbsFjUfciJFmSP9xLemE5yMzKdWmuTMYRN39mlBjNvQOqgJ0q0QCoAI1AcZZwJnXAXppA-eMGSW45ExhrFalrWNmZjgnCiN5CNqFAMkobUpCp9hiRD6KZkGLMD3FKVl5DBsVxVgIA/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-18.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1630852869263000&usg=AFQjCNHRtvddt1TCY-P8hLHTDgzWMxFBjw" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvXLbsFjUfciJFmSP9xLemE5yMzKdWmuTMYRN39mlBjNvQOqgJ0q0QCoAI1AcZZwJnXAXppA-eMGSW45ExhrFalrWNmZjgnCiN5CNqFAMkobUpCp9hiRD6KZkGLMD3FKVl5DBsVxVgIA/s2000/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-18.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvXLbsFjUfciJFmSP9xLemE5yMzKdWmuTMYRN39mlBjNvQOqgJ0q0QCoAI1AcZZwJnXAXppA-eMGSW45ExhrFalrWNmZjgnCiN5CNqFAMkobUpCp9hiRD6KZkGLMD3FKVl5DBsVxVgIA/w640-h480/bikepacking-lake-easton-2021-18.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Smiles of success as we climbed off our bikes at the end of the trail. Both riders and both bikes completed the trip with near perfect scorecards.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>By two p.m., we were loading our heavy bikes into the pickup in North Bend. The trip was completed and judged to be a complete success. The majority of our gear worked well with the only breakage occurring in my sleep schedule. Although not an adventure of epic proportions, our modest bike packing trip gave us the confidence to step up our game for the next one.</p></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-74027314864193727792021-08-30T15:25:00.015-07:002021-09-23T12:50:46.367-07:002021-08-19 Puyallup Cyclopaths "Rainiering Ride" (Les, Rob, Scott W., Tom B, Leon, Tom P, Martin & Mike)<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Author: Mike Hassur</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I was sort of dreading this ride, because I wasn't certain if I had prepared well enough for it (~130 miles and 14,411' or more of climbing). The ride was scheduled for a Thursday to minimize our exposure to traffic. I had been gone for most of the previous week hiking in the Sun Valley, Idaho area. I got back on a Friday and left on Sunday with Kathy for a Sheryl Crow concert near Portland. I got back from that trip on Monday afternoon with two days to get my stuff ready for the Rainiering Ride (good planning, Mike... 👎👎). For any of you who might be unfamiliar with the term "Rainiering", it means to do a ride that includes an amount of climbing equal to or exceeding the height of Mt. Rainier (i.e. 14,411 feet). You can "Rainier" anywhere (all you need is a hill/mountain), but the classic place to Rainier is on... surprise... Mt. Rainier.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Our route for this year would consist of two legs. The first leg would take us up Cayuse Pass and on up to Chinook Pass. From there, we would head over to the climb up to the Sunrise Visitor Center and, then, make our way back over Cayuse Pass and down to the vehicles to restock with food and liquids. The second leg of the ride would take us up the east side of Backbone Ridge and down the west side before beginning our ascent up through Stevens Canyon to Reflection Lake and on up to Paradise. From Paradise, we would retrace our steps back to the vehicles where we would - once again - restock before climbing Backbone Ridge a few more times to get the requisite 14,411 feet (or more) of elevation gain. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KC81tjk2Kfw/YUzZqOFI4SI/AAAAAAAAWww/iTQVo-J5YC0NYj2VHtBamiP-0FL9mqxcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1586/Rainiering.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1586" data-original-width="997" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KC81tjk2Kfw/YUzZqOFI4SI/AAAAAAAAWww/iTQVo-J5YC0NYj2VHtBamiP-0FL9mqxcQCLcBGAsYHQ/w402-h640/Rainiering.png" width="402" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Rainiering" route & info...</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In the lead up to this ride I thought that we would have maybe 3-4 guys. Typically, this ride does not have a large number of riders. Whether that is because of the length, the elevation gain or the fact that it is on a Thursday; I'm not really certain; but this year we ended up with 8 guys (one who flew in from Colorado Springs and one who drove from Wenatchee and slept in the parking lot the night before) who were at the Grove of the Patriarchs by 6:15 AM getting ready to go. The group included Leon Matz (from Colorado Springs), Les Becker, Scott Wagar, Rob Davidson, Tom Broxson, Tom Peterson, Martin Katzberg (from Wenatchee) and me.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p3k0sc36zPA/YSk9Nkxsw_I/AAAAAAAAWrU/kVEjTG8ZG0Ap5Rerj3USxpAREJsdQV70ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1891/Grove%2Bof%2Bthe%2BPatriarchs.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1891" height="314" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p3k0sc36zPA/YSk9Nkxsw_I/AAAAAAAAWrU/kVEjTG8ZG0Ap5Rerj3USxpAREJsdQV70ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h314/Grove%2Bof%2Bthe%2BPatriarchs.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grove of the Patriarchs Parking Lot<br />(our starting point)<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-voMrCYFpq0M/YSk_0M89wEI/AAAAAAAAWrg/PrgoZJLVhaYhOS2xReBVBk079OB8vzp3QCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-voMrCYFpq0M/YSk_0M89wEI/AAAAAAAAWrg/PrgoZJLVhaYhOS2xReBVBk079OB8vzp3QCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05600.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oo92AuXrzhk/YSk_0OEhUiI/AAAAAAAAWrg/-yyPrUZmEfoeRdGlLUkEzbb5Xq-ZEft1wCPcBGAsYHg/s5379/DSC05601.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2974" data-original-width="5379" height="354" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oo92AuXrzhk/YSk_0OEhUiI/AAAAAAAAWrg/-yyPrUZmEfoeRdGlLUkEzbb5Xq-ZEft1wCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h354/DSC05601.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We were on the road around 7:00 AM, and our first order of business was climbing the 11 miles or so up to Cayuse Pass.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0MzxzrWXhI/YSk9D93S6VI/AAAAAAAAWrQ/7T13obsPHmstzAImVtpe8KTwGvQKvQomQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1681/GoP%2Bto%2BCayuse.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="881" data-original-width="1681" height="336" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0MzxzrWXhI/YSk9D93S6VI/AAAAAAAAWrQ/7T13obsPHmstzAImVtpe8KTwGvQKvQomQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h336/GoP%2Bto%2BCayuse.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grove of the Patriarchs to Cayuse Pass...</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I had been concerned about hot weather for this ride as we'd had some very hot days this summer, but hot weather was not a problem as it turned out. The temperature at the start of the ride was in the low 50's, and it got cooler as we ascended toward Cayuse Pass. The Cayuse Pass climb is 11 miles long with a pretty consistent grade of about 6%. All of us had plenty of energy since this was the first climb of the day, and we "visited" our way up without too much trouble. The next portion of Leg #1 of the ride would take us from Cayuse Pass on up to Chinook Pass (this portion is filled with wonderful views)...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-axM2xuvAfZY/YSq81w0TfMI/AAAAAAAAWsU/c0BwX2hbqRU37WEoXqY3Y9hNcwmUxiIegCLcBGAsYHQ/s1710/Cayuse%2Bto%2BChinook.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="870" data-original-width="1710" height="326" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-axM2xuvAfZY/YSq81w0TfMI/AAAAAAAAWsU/c0BwX2hbqRU37WEoXqY3Y9hNcwmUxiIegCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h326/Cayuse%2Bto%2BChinook.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Cayuse Pass to Chinook Pass portion of Leg #1...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bfTZVh5s2ek/YSlBA7xaQII/AAAAAAAAWrs/sHhuNqy5h18EH0YPvd74cunm6J8hMQ2zgCPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05606.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2958" data-original-width="5472" height="346" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bfTZVh5s2ek/YSlBA7xaQII/AAAAAAAAWrs/sHhuNqy5h18EH0YPvd74cunm6J8hMQ2zgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h346/DSC05606.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C_cAftc_K-g/YSlBA-qoc0I/AAAAAAAAWrs/mcsWGZX9GiEWjM4z60Pt6Bqtbf527gsDACPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05611.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2864" data-original-width="5472" height="334" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C_cAftc_K-g/YSlBA-qoc0I/AAAAAAAAWrs/mcsWGZX9GiEWjM4z60Pt6Bqtbf527gsDACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h334/DSC05611.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X4kx8zBYGoA/YSlBA-bJ_2I/AAAAAAAAWrs/10_9QSHxYrYbpUUKh9NN1BC-qhHR53UDACPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05612.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2883" data-original-width="5472" height="338" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X4kx8zBYGoA/YSlBA-bJ_2I/AAAAAAAAWrs/10_9QSHxYrYbpUUKh9NN1BC-qhHR53UDACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h338/DSC05612.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N4ypz4s9Fbs/YSlBAznoquI/AAAAAAAAWrs/VfFYqFIstmYsnHTQCn0KeN-GvK0Snh5lQCPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05616.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2707" data-original-width="5472" height="316" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N4ypz4s9Fbs/YSlBAznoquI/AAAAAAAAWrs/VfFYqFIstmYsnHTQCn0KeN-GvK0Snh5lQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h316/DSC05616.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cpqVU6o4hnA/YSlBA5OQywI/AAAAAAAAWrs/7CHc16WN0_cGZst29GtuEJMELb8dKznBQCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05618.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cpqVU6o4hnA/YSlBA5OQywI/AAAAAAAAWrs/7CHc16WN0_cGZst29GtuEJMELb8dKznBQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05618.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XDyIJBOfUfI/YSlBA2c-qaI/AAAAAAAAWrs/vHdYN8I0mgEtgLc0JYcphJUw8e29VsNcgCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05619.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XDyIJBOfUfI/YSlBA2c-qaI/AAAAAAAAWrs/vHdYN8I0mgEtgLc0JYcphJUw8e29VsNcgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05619.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fBFhdi9Fm28/YSlBA1SqaBI/AAAAAAAAWrs/C5q_K0xqk0U6bHTaKav3M5MqM4T0VEZzQCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05621.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fBFhdi9Fm28/YSlBA1SqaBI/AAAAAAAAWrs/C5q_K0xqk0U6bHTaKav3M5MqM4T0VEZzQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05621.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin, Rob, Tom B, Les & Scott</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hUfWqLTb5YA/YSlFHqg0fDI/AAAAAAAAWsA/Kh8CpkMBRDECPp5VyW4bc8ODCoad0w1JQCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05624.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hUfWqLTb5YA/YSlFHqg0fDI/AAAAAAAAWsA/Kh8CpkMBRDECPp5VyW4bc8ODCoad0w1JQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05624.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo is mislabeled. It is the view from Chinook Pass as Hwy 410 heads east toward Yakima...</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xmcG6UbmURo/YSlFHsr1NkI/AAAAAAAAWsA/f1So0BiVvk0KtGpRXBi6esPKAf53VFD6wCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/A3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xmcG6UbmURo/YSlFHsr1NkI/AAAAAAAAWsA/f1So0BiVvk0KtGpRXBi6esPKAf53VFD6wCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/A3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Photo by Rob Davidson<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At Chinook Pass, we paused just long enough to drink some liquids and grab a quick bite to eat (half of a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich in my case). The temperature was in the 40's at this point, so most of us put on a jacket or vest; because we would be descending back down to Cayuse Pass and further down to the turnoff that would lead us to the White River Ranger Station and the 13 mile climb from there to the Sunrise Visitor Center.</span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: center;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Portion of Leg #1 from Chinook Pass to Sunrise Visitor Center...</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fymTloSGT4Y/YSq-j3j5HKI/AAAAAAAAWsc/UKtmokn_XUQuaIl6cZfM8KLVwSUqby-jQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1770/Chinook%2Bto%2BSunrise.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="1770" height="314" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fymTloSGT4Y/YSq-j3j5HKI/AAAAAAAAWsc/UKtmokn_XUQuaIl6cZfM8KLVwSUqby-jQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h314/Chinook%2Bto%2BSunrise.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Chinook Pass to Sunrise Visitor Center portion of Leg #1...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E-4cJt_79TI/YSlFHkylV8I/AAAAAAAAWsA/pqauXNBkaTsEg0ikeKjrDNrrm5NqqvWVgCPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05628.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2797" data-original-width="5472" height="328" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E-4cJt_79TI/YSlFHkylV8I/AAAAAAAAWsA/pqauXNBkaTsEg0ikeKjrDNrrm5NqqvWVgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h328/DSC05628.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This photo mislabeled. We are heading down from Chinook Pass back to Cayuse Pass...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vszf8TRFPQo/YSlFHqgSuCI/AAAAAAAAWsA/9HnRMmImz6UB1plVwpPJ4rc-sWd0g0qNQCPcBGAsYHg/s5370/DSC05630.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2979" data-original-width="5370" height="356" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vszf8TRFPQo/YSlFHqgSuCI/AAAAAAAAWsA/9HnRMmImz6UB1plVwpPJ4rc-sWd0g0qNQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h356/DSC05630.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">White River Ranger Station...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It was at this point of the ride that "all hell broke loose" - literally. We had passed through the White River Ranger Station and were beginning the long climb to the Sunrise Visitor Center when it happened. Tom B. was taking off his jacket</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;">while riding</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> as we began to climb (something all of us have done a hundred times). As he was removing his jacket, one sleeve got wrapped up in his rear cassette. I was riding behind Tom; and, all of a sudden, I heard this racket in front of me. I looked up to see the sleeve of Tom's jacket fouled up in the rear cassette, his rear derailleur broken off and was laying on the road and his chain was broken. I was sure that Tom's day was finished at this point - but Rob Davidson had a "smart link" and a "chain tool"; and, unbelievably, Tom's bike was back in action albeit now it was a "one speed" in his very lowest gear. Equally unbelievably, he rode it all the way up the climb to the Sunrise Visitor Center! In the Sunrise parking lot, Tom decided to "change gears" (i.e. he decided to try to reposition the chain to a higher gear for the ride down). After some "chain manipulation" by Tom and Rob, we made it back to the White River Ranger Station; but that was about it for Tom's bike. We still had to negotiate the north side of Cayuse Pass and descend the other side to get back to the vehicles. It was pretty clear that Tom's bike was not going to make it. The other Tom, Tom Peterson; volunteered to ride ahead to get his large SUV to bring Tom Broxson and his bike back to our vehicles at Grove of the Patriarchs. The plan was that - after we got Tom Broxson and his "wounded" bike back to the cars - the rest of us would begin Leg #2 of the ride (i.e. Backbone Ridge, the Stevens Canyon climb to Reflection Lake and on up to Paradise).</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While Tom Peterson was driving back over Cayuse Pass to pick up Tom Broxson, most of the rest of our group (me, Les, Leon, and Rob) decided to kill some time by climbing the east side of Backbone Ridge (5.8 miles, 1,100' of elevation gain). </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Eventually, we all ended up back at the vehicles. Tom Broxson was heading home (I am convinced that he would have completed this ride were it not for bad luck), and the rest of us were ready for Leg #2. I hadn't said anything to this point, but I was not going to ride with the group to Paradise. The bracket that connected my seat post to the rails of my saddle had broken a couple of weeks prior to this ride. We had "jury rigged" it so that I could complete that ride, but I had not gotten the new parts (they were in the mail) to replace that problematic bracket. I had noted the apparatus that supported my saddle making noise (clicks and pops) on Leg #1 of this ride, and I decided that I wanted to stay relatively close to the vehicles in case that bracket failed again. That meant that my "Leg 2" for this ride consisted of repeats on Backbone Ridge, while most of the rest of our group headed on up to Paradise. Luckily for me, Leon decided that he too wanted to do "repeats" on Backbone Ridge rather than heading up to Paradise - so I had some welcome company. (Let me digress for a moment... Leon Matz and I had been neighbors, friends and riding companions for close to 25 years before he and his wife, Fran, moved to Colorado Springs, CO last summer. Leon was training to qualify for the UCI Age Group World Championships this year before he crashed and had to forego that goal. Eventually, he decided to shift his focus to doing this year's "Rainiering Ride" with us - much to our/my delight; so having the opportunity to visit with Leon during Leg #2 of this ride was a real bonus for me.)<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I can't speak to the "Paradise portion of Leg #2", but the Backbone Ridge portion was great. Leon and I (and, eventually, Martin) had a wonderful time climbing (repeatedly) and visiting. Eventually, the "Paradise guys" returned and joined us on Backbone Ridge as they still needed some elevation gain to complete the "Rainiering" requirement. Actually, this was probably my favorite part of the ride. We were all tired, but we totally enjoyed "visiting" our way up Backbone Ridge together those last few times. It was awesome!! (I want to give a special "shout out" to Tom Peterson at this point. He was lagging behind the rest of us in terms of his elevation gain, because he had helped to transport Tom Broxson back to the vehicles after the mechanical problems. In spite of that, Tom Peterson persevered and got the required elevation gain to "Rainier". <b>Thanks, Tom, for your generosity and your perseverance - you are a stud</b>)!!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I didn't include any photos from Leg #2 of this ride, because I wasn't with the group to Paradise and because I was too tired to be taking photos on Backbone Ridge. I will simply leave you with these photos from the end of our ride (unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of the entire group together)...</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YKjdQC8Ydew/YSwqhGr57mI/AAAAAAAAWs0/W0gwkmJe84YGWNecFVeAShCCH6o7DP_xwCPcBGAsYHg/s1647/PXL_20210820_021827049.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1647" data-original-width="1091" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YKjdQC8Ydew/YSwqhGr57mI/AAAAAAAAWs0/W0gwkmJe84YGWNecFVeAShCCH6o7DP_xwCPcBGAsYHg/w424-h640/PXL_20210820_021827049.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unxSlbINmi4/YSwqhOGCQbI/AAAAAAAAWs0/jiGR-OVYclEUq9b2IMHo6sJ---Ce4X9EwCPcBGAsYHg/s2592/Rainiering.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="2592" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unxSlbINmi4/YSwqhOGCQbI/AAAAAAAAWs0/jiGR-OVYclEUq9b2IMHo6sJ---Ce4X9EwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/Rainiering.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This has to be one of my favorite all-time rides. I've "Rainiered" four or five times before this, but this was a great group of guys with whom to do this ride; and - in spite of some adversity - everyone adapted and seemed determined to make this a great ride - MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!</span></p></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-28795495972376169302021-08-16T10:24:00.057-07:002021-09-13T11:11:22.823-07:00Fell Swoop Gravel Invitation<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Author: Dwaine
Trummert</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-8710886305778643186" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 716px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The publishing of this post signifies a milestone for this author/cyclist. I've completed my first </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">IRL group ride with members of the Fell Swoop Racing team.</span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Fell Swoop member Frank requested a birthday ride up and down some gravel roads in</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">and around Easton Washington. Four additional members of the team obliged. An invitation </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">was sent my way. I was excited to see some new scenery and get to know more of the Fell </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Swoopers. A total of six riders started the route from the Hyak Sno Park parking lot.</span></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We started at 9 a.m. heading East on the Palouse to Cascades Trail. The pace seemed </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">pretty hot and my camera remained silent as I watched the blue waters of Keechelus Lake </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">fly by. This portion of the trail lacks any technical challenges nor elevation challenges. After </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">seven miles we reached our first turn and a change in the tenor of the ride.</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The gravel road up and over Stampede Pass was not too steep nor too technical. We did </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">not see many vehicles but the road showed the signs that it sees plenty of motor traffic. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Thomas and Frank went to the front. I chose a moderate pace and quickly drifted to the </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">back. Near the top the trees and terrain allowed some views as reward for our efforts.</span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7uv9N3Qudwig1ycPMEiGNY86Qwo3UBIORZbvJ83WPRtuN8FEWTHgkfJu9jMjyE3Td7dkrfhaSyCFHY0fJCnycgZyIuX7elQs1IgQBf7TjsFXbo8CDTOFjz97wcDXAs_2lObcSEtmRt94/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7uv9N3Qudwig1ycPMEiGNY86Qwo3UBIORZbvJ83WPRtuN8FEWTHgkfJu9jMjyE3Td7dkrfhaSyCFHY0fJCnycgZyIuX7elQs1IgQBf7TjsFXbo8CDTOFjz97wcDXAs_2lObcSEtmRt94/w480-h640/fell-swoop-gravel-1.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The final tricky ascent at the summit of Stampede Pass<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMjX6U2NlvKDdNS3uWj8JIgbEiIzhBzckDIprZkSUdnQQ0OtARY0CM0DWWeCTjZ04209PH_sUr6JrREy332Xe99oUBgu-n5B4QSCkEJOumViUENcx-LjvXr8RR9pnstw2ullSK-ORasw/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMjX6U2NlvKDdNS3uWj8JIgbEiIzhBzckDIprZkSUdnQQ0OtARY0CM0DWWeCTjZ04209PH_sUr6JrREy332Xe99oUBgu-n5B4QSCkEJOumViUENcx-LjvXr8RR9pnstw2ullSK-ORasw/w480-h640/fell-swoop-gravel-2.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Following in the footsteps of the author Zdog <br />ascended the final few feet by foot.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />At the crest of the pass we were presented with a short side road technical climb. At the top of the climb stood a power line structure and the best viewpoint. One by one we made attempts at this short climb. One by one we rode to the top or fell down trying. The non riders, myself included, simply carried or dragged out steeds the final few meters. We spent a few minutes snapping photos. Then ZDog shared the details of the Lester police incident from a previous year's ride. Fell Swoop did not intend to revisit the ghost town of Lester.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0YlheKTT6HIWVp6JSFzF3Ry1SrqNtW67oHUACHb8nOhc5kIw7iNB6sVbYbZDt94iCtKkuechzTms2q9h9ZnfTo9UbbmtIeLw2mHRWgpqLGTFVKslJlqtQRHskybHjLEfO5nhk6g0YFo/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0YlheKTT6HIWVp6JSFzF3Ry1SrqNtW67oHUACHb8nOhc5kIw7iNB6sVbYbZDt94iCtKkuechzTms2q9h9ZnfTo9UbbmtIeLw2mHRWgpqLGTFVKslJlqtQRHskybHjLEfO5nhk6g0YFo/w480-h640/fell-swoop-gravel-3.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Thomas looked West from Stampede Pass towards <br />the ghost town of Lester which we did not visit.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The descent was unremarkable but it was my first chance to evaluate my tires. This was my first mixed surface ride on the Panaracer Gravel King SS tires in 650b 48mm. The road surface was remarkably dry and covered in loose gravel. I expected these tires to feel the same as the BTW ByWays they replaced. They did not. My first impression was that the more rounded profile let them break free more predictably but also earlier.<br /><br />Soon we reached the Lester junction. Straight on to Lester or left to Tacoma Pass. We chose left. Climbing to the top of Tacoma Pass included more elevation than Stampede pass but at a more shallow gradient. There was also more shade. At times the road paralled the Green River and later the Tacoma Creek. The group climbed at an easier pace and we were able to enjoy the more primitive two track feel of this road.<br /><br />There was also more conversation. Craig shared that he has ventured into bikepacking and I was keen to hear his early impressions. Thomas was willing to describe for me some of the nuance and timing that goes into a road racing lead out train. Frank and I talked shop until being found out and chastised.<br /><br />The summit was unremarkable. The descent along Cabin Creek was eye openning. Although generally not steep the road was narrow and twisty. In many sections the creek erosion left a narrow lane on the left and a cliff on the right. Mike showed his skills and set a mean pace down this section earning a bronze cup on Strava in the process.<br /><br />The road surface for this descent was different than the previous and so was my satisfaction with the Gravelking SS tires. The lack of loose gravel made all the difference. They felt more planted and more or less replicated the feel of the ByWays they replaced.<br /><br />The descending ended where the road ended. Years ago the bridge over Cabin Creek was half washed away. Since then advenurous motorists have been fording at a wide and shallow section of the creek. As we approached I quickly evaluated the lighting, shouldering my Hakka, scurried across, and unholstered my Canon. Frank was set up to ride across first. To the disappointment of my camera, one by one, each Fell Swooper thought wiser and simply walked their bikes across. There would be no blooper roll for this ride.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQqE569-evSF7u_bPWBv1LGfpFf0oXY9mN8V-nutMYXh5lFWV-_2d_jX49mhnJ4YrZkNYd5PQUQ60nN3K_rfNyfQ6Gh_tzjq7v866Net5Rs-AkbuMDWiO_LHRkoAbiYt7uD1uZKIABkk/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQqE569-evSF7u_bPWBv1LGfpFf0oXY9mN8V-nutMYXh5lFWV-_2d_jX49mhnJ4YrZkNYd5PQUQ60nN3K_rfNyfQ6Gh_tzjq7v866Net5Rs-AkbuMDWiO_LHRkoAbiYt7uD1uZKIABkk/w640-h640/fell-swoop-gravel-4.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Craig showed the wise way across Cabin Creek while the remaining <br />Fell Swoopers pondered the crossing from the far side.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Once the camera was put away we chatted for a few moments. I stood in the river and let the river water wash the heat out of my shoes and feet. Then I put my head in the water and remarked that the river crossing might be the most satisfying feature of the ride. That sentiment was premature.<br /><br />Soon we descended into Easton and found a convenience store/coffee shop/pizzaria called the <a href="https://the-hitching-post-grocery-store.business.site/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Hitching Post</a>. We invaded the picnic table area and purchased gallons of cold water and sports drinks. Although just 40 miles in I was feeling some fatigue.<br /><br />Thomas informed us he was hurting and would be pulling the plug and riding back to his car via the Palouse to Cascades trail. While his legs were clearly up for the fight his back had waved the white flag climbing up Tacoma Pass. To add insult to injury, as his bike baked in the sun against a South facing wall, the rear brake decided to drag. There was a discussion about removing the brake pads if the rub became unbearable and we wished him well.<br /><br />The next ten mile section was rolling terrain. It kept us entertained with some pavement and some gravel. A few views of Kachess Lake. There was even a small creek crossing where we stopped just long enough for me to re dip my head in the water. As we rolled through a few neighborhoods Craig shared some insights on living in the area. Even as a home owner he is still not yet considered a 'local'. Apparently the locals keep the locations of the most beautiful parts of the forest to themeselves.<br /><br />Mile fifty brought the hammer. The final climb. It started rough, rocky, and loose. There was plenty of dust from motor traffic. By one quarter distance we were above the majority of the motor traffic and had each found our just right pace. We regrouped at half distance and I was happy for the short break.<br /><br />The second half of the climb was the finest of the day. We were occasionally surounded by butterflies. Lupine flowers, also know as Bluebonnet, decorated the shoulders of the road. By the final quarter of the climb the trees peeled back to reveal views down to the roads previously conquered. As a final reward we were granted a cooling breeze to finish the climb.<br /><br />At the summit we congratulated ourselves with a round of fist bumps. The final leg, a gravel descent that dropped us within three miles of our start, was all that lay before us.<br /><br />Just before we embarked Craig asked if were interested in seeing a locals only natural attraction. It involved cool water. We agreed.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KADZ2zQmMtYtQqXN6pc774eFrDGzL7w7aNUL4yiVs-6TIVeARWMlVJvnWofrIx7Elm8YurjRmcSOuvFKQ6ApM0bs3POjgFdvpyBBrDfW9-eWPvUai0kcCp53CPvU99tsjgZ4W1CN62Q/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KADZ2zQmMtYtQqXN6pc774eFrDGzL7w7aNUL4yiVs-6TIVeARWMlVJvnWofrIx7Elm8YurjRmcSOuvFKQ6ApM0bs3POjgFdvpyBBrDfW9-eWPvUai0kcCp53CPvU99tsjgZ4W1CN62Q/w480-h640/fell-swoop-gravel-5.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Looking down river right before we cooled ourselves in the creek.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /> </span><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8m3CQh0MTM8MXpDH3XMeR2MH8atoEx9DnKZMClliDh4-f3arM4bMn4VcwAs6qskRpc-UEAhIIgMjk6N5MtMmTh1r-6adJOgU1RgKPrPwgJ8Knkgx4fCqdEWsvr5HZ25yxZpvRFcM9Dc/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8m3CQh0MTM8MXpDH3XMeR2MH8atoEx9DnKZMClliDh4-f3arM4bMn4VcwAs6qskRpc-UEAhIIgMjk6N5MtMmTh1r-6adJOgU1RgKPrPwgJ8Knkgx4fCqdEWsvr5HZ25yxZpvRFcM9Dc/w640-h480/fell-swoop-gravel-6.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> Zdog captured a quick photo before jumping in.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Somewhere between the top of Keechelus Ridge and the Hyak Sno Park we took a few steps off the most direct path to take in a landmark of natural beauty. Location details were placed under embargo. Words and photos were not. We were shown a lovely collection of waterfalls and water holes. Bikes, helmets, and jerseys were set aside and we waded into the water. We rejoiced when freed from the six hours of dust and sweat. Frank appreciated his birthday dip. We all thanked Craig for sharing his forest secret.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIy4MNP_Ix3dLF8Aj4NWQp_yrspDhaT2FJ4sofRHor-mUfetivSXuS7KvIbfXsBNshSBB7LSE9Z9gq3QtH2EvuWSpoX3B0SNiOEdJqr-hGXlZRpVZm6-oqCjUyAUwqr7kOsemg7R0YwU/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIy4MNP_Ix3dLF8Aj4NWQp_yrspDhaT2FJ4sofRHor-mUfetivSXuS7KvIbfXsBNshSBB7LSE9Z9gq3QtH2EvuWSpoX3B0SNiOEdJqr-hGXlZRpVZm6-oqCjUyAUwqr7kOsemg7R0YwU/w480-h640/fell-swoop-gravel-7.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Fell Swoopers and their gear seven hours after <br />they started. Still smiling. Success.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><br />Back at the cars I thanked the team for the invitation. It was a great chance to get to know some of the team. It was a great opportunity to explore parts of the forest that lay just outside the Palouse to Cascades corridor. It was a great birthday ride. Thank you Fell Swoopers. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-OjD7ClpiYIFH3fAeEVvpeBDSSjPJdWEPETBWUaeVfcK02672C0oaPXxN2UjiTa1onyyTC0FnSaOltZQd61WhdJlgs1ZDdXr_nPgqDYBKQ6chES4OeXC5VubzGYb87x7WvsC2zr1kDPY/s2000/fell-swoop-gravel-8.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-OjD7ClpiYIFH3fAeEVvpeBDSSjPJdWEPETBWUaeVfcK02672C0oaPXxN2UjiTa1onyyTC0FnSaOltZQd61WhdJlgs1ZDdXr_nPgqDYBKQ6chES4OeXC5VubzGYb87x7WvsC2zr1kDPY/s320/fell-swoop-gravel-8.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My white Ibis Hakka MX finished another fine <br />gravel adventure with nary a squeek.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p style="color: #4e2800;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div style="clear: both; color: #4e2800;"></div></div><div class="post-footer" style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1.5em 0px 0px;"><div class="post-footer-line post-footer-line-1"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span class="post-author vcard" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 1em;"></span><span class="post-timestamp" style="margin-left: -1em; margin-right: 1em;">at <a class="timestamp-link" href="https://trummert.blogspot.com/2021/08/fell-swoop-gravel-invitation.html" rel="bookmark" style="color: #f48d1d;" title="permanent link"><abbr class="published" itemprop="datePublished" style="border: none;" title="2021-08-16T19:28:00-07:00">August 16, 2021</abbr></a> </span></span></div></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-31338149380106999612021-07-13T18:32:00.003-07:002021-07-14T17:45:09.552-07:002021-07-10 Mount St Helens - West Side (Tour de Blast Route)<p><span style="font-family: arial;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt;">Author:</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Mike Hassur</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: arial;"><o:p> </o:p><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It’s been a few years
since we climbed the west side of Mount St. Helens to the Johnston Ridge
Observatory (the Tour de Blast route), so this past Saturday’s ride was a
reminder to me regarding how beautiful this route is.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It was also a reminder that you have to get up pretty
darned early to drive to Toutle, get your gear ready and be heading out by 7:00
AM.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I was up at 3:45 AM, drank
my chocolate milk, put on my cycling gear and was leaving home by 4:20 AM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plan was to meet Les Becker, Tom Broxson,
Martin Katzberg and Scott Wagar<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>at the
Park-N-Ride located at the junction of highway 512 and I-5.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I arrived at about 4:40 AM to find Les
already there, and Tom pulled in shortly thereafter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tom and I moved our gear into Les’ van, and
we waited for Scott and Martin to arrive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At 5:00 AM, I gave Scott a call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It turned out that they were just a couple minutes away, so we agreed to
meet them at Toutle High School (our starting point for the ride).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Les pulled onto southbound I-5, Martin and
Scott whizzed by us; and we were on our way.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The trip to Toutle HS was
uneventful, and we arrived around 6:30 AM.
After shepherding two baby deer back to their mom (they got stuck behind
a small fence at the high school that mom had jumped over), we got our gear
ready and were heading out around 7:00 AM.
It was chilly (low 50’s), so I was in a quandary – do I try to stay
comfortable in the early part of the ride by dressing fairly warmly, or do I forsake
warmth early on knowing that it won’t be long before things warm up. In the end, I sort of compromised and took my
vest (which I needed for all of about 45 minutes). It wasn’t long before we were stowing our
warm gear in the weeds along the side of the road to be picked up on the way
back.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SrsT5NufCI0/YO3l4hjDaMI/AAAAAAAAV0g/jEAfy_tPyvsAtrMVXRu6ahqHefOn3Ze2wCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05352.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SrsT5NufCI0/YO3l4hjDaMI/AAAAAAAAV0g/jEAfy_tPyvsAtrMVXRu6ahqHefOn3Ze2wCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05352.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OEAYRnrWfK4/YO3l4vlw5pI/AAAAAAAAV0g/faGmwVAjDgUFT-ETrcja-1f3W5IWK-J7wCPcBGAsYHg/s5269/DSC05355.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2719" data-original-width="5269" height="330" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OEAYRnrWfK4/YO3l4vlw5pI/AAAAAAAAV0g/faGmwVAjDgUFT-ETrcja-1f3W5IWK-J7wCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h330/DSC05355.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MCp9U7D8gBk/YO4s_CD_zeI/AAAAAAAAV3M/s5MHiMEsDskqoh98lAP9hgUobRtGRH39ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/DSC05360.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MCp9U7D8gBk/YO4s_CD_zeI/AAAAAAAAV3M/s5MHiMEsDskqoh98lAP9hgUobRtGRH39ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/DSC05360.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">This out-and-back ride is comprised of three major climbs:</span></div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;">The climb from Toutle to the Elk Rock Lookout (~ 3,200 feet of elevation gain)</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">The climb up to Johnston Ridge Observatory (~ 1,800 feet of elevation gain)</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">The climb back up to Elk Rock Lookout heading westerly (~ 1,200 feet of elevation gain)</span></li></ol><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There are random "ups and downs" along the way to bring the total elevation gain for the 84 mile ride to about 7,200 feet.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6y-60J8l__0/YO4sQmBFwHI/AAAAAAAAV2s/sYYEiCmzaH85CHXLq06T4ztWPHkLrAx9QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2714/Map_Mt%2BSt%2BHelens_Tour%2Bde%2BBlast%2BRoute%2Bwith%2Belevations.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1159" data-original-width="2714" height="274" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6y-60J8l__0/YO4sQmBFwHI/AAAAAAAAV2s/sYYEiCmzaH85CHXLq06T4ztWPHkLrAx9QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h274/Map_Mt%2BSt%2BHelens_Tour%2Bde%2BBlast%2BRoute%2Bwith%2Belevations.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High and Low Points along the route...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This ride is deceptive in that most riders think that the toughest climb of the day will be the one up to Johnston Ridge Observatory. It's a good climb, but for me the toughest climb was the very first one from Toutle to Elk Rock Lookout. It's the longest climb, it's the most elevation gain (by quite a bit) and it left me thinking "what is the Johnston Ridge climb going to feel like if this one was this challenging". To my surprise, the Johnston Ridge climb was significant, but it was not as fatiguing as the one to Elk Rock (it would not have been close except for the fact that we (Les, Tom and myself) were going "full gas" up to Johnston Ridge.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T7VdFrBZp9o/YO4vv6HZpmI/AAAAAAAAV3U/SPS9qOMgPwsYjppZtpdHwzWIELixF1yigCPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05370.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2898" data-original-width="5472" height="338" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T7VdFrBZp9o/YO4vv6HZpmI/AAAAAAAAV3U/SPS9qOMgPwsYjppZtpdHwzWIELixF1yigCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h338/DSC05370.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pmJHFQp0sBo/YO4vvx8OiDI/AAAAAAAAV3U/ilAqLdPlQOkDaFdNjgm0hDew5zcDJ6HEQCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05372.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pmJHFQp0sBo/YO4vvx8OiDI/AAAAAAAAV3U/ilAqLdPlQOkDaFdNjgm0hDew5zcDJ6HEQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05372.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uh-75wOSs3c/YO4vv4MwYRI/AAAAAAAAV3U/E6WvkDRZLiEtfar0qsd_KX6u_uOwteXkgCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05369.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uh-75wOSs3c/YO4vv4MwYRI/AAAAAAAAV3U/E6WvkDRZLiEtfar0qsd_KX6u_uOwteXkgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05369.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ea7nScySuE8/YO4vv8B-pkI/AAAAAAAAV3U/nyrw9VwGi8o8O7MFhj-a8nrOe-vrPCIUgCPcBGAsYHg/s4026/IMG_6290.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2001" data-original-width="4026" height="318" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ea7nScySuE8/YO4vv8B-pkI/AAAAAAAAV3U/nyrw9VwGi8o8O7MFhj-a8nrOe-vrPCIUgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h318/IMG_6290.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6yVpNaoasIM/YO4vv2m3SNI/AAAAAAAAV3U/iSC_CqD6VvUEVdTa7aMRPMktdfuIm5BcwCPcBGAsYHg/s3904/DSC05361.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2248" data-original-width="3904" height="368" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6yVpNaoasIM/YO4vv2m3SNI/AAAAAAAAV3U/iSC_CqD6VvUEVdTa7aMRPMktdfuIm5BcwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h368/DSC05361.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I1Oyc5sLcIs/YO4y0gx_eLI/AAAAAAAAV3s/uj10E3yaySEyHldJKc9FZdtSbTV6V70GgCPcBGAsYHg/s2758/IMG_0018.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1551" data-original-width="2758" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I1Oyc5sLcIs/YO4y0gx_eLI/AAAAAAAAV3s/uj10E3yaySEyHldJKc9FZdtSbTV6V70GgCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/IMG_0018.HEIC" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin and Mike...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The views along this route are, generally, pretty great; but the ones near Elk Rock are spectacular...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kNFT_dmgCXU/YO4xgytIaOI/AAAAAAAAV3g/68YKKp6-sW8Y-cBP5Q0b3Mv75-jBPRhtQCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_6309.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kNFT_dmgCXU/YO4xgytIaOI/AAAAAAAAV3g/68YKKp6-sW8Y-cBP5Q0b3Mv75-jBPRhtQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h480/IMG_6309.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UzIXlgffTMk/YO4xgzNnCFI/AAAAAAAAV3g/igANiGmXIdgaOqyKDkW-gc5bVSK03CxyQCPcBGAsYHg/s3591/IMG_6315.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2457" data-original-width="3591" height="438" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UzIXlgffTMk/YO4xgzNnCFI/AAAAAAAAV3g/igANiGmXIdgaOqyKDkW-gc5bVSK03CxyQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h438/IMG_6315.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">From Elk Rock, we descended about 1,200 feet to the Coldwater Lake area where we began our 1,800 foot climb to Johnston Ridge...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99b2l2EcS7E/YO4zhAbSLFI/AAAAAAAAV30/d9E44hd6sP0Q4bi1aHQ-fAtKavxLShoRACLcBGAsYHQ/s2714/Map_Mt%2BSt%2BHelens_Tour%2Bde%2BBlast%2BRoute%2Bwith%2Belevations.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1159" data-original-width="2714" height="274" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-99b2l2EcS7E/YO4zhAbSLFI/AAAAAAAAV30/d9E44hd6sP0Q4bi1aHQ-fAtKavxLShoRACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h274/Map_Mt%2BSt%2BHelens_Tour%2Bde%2BBlast%2BRoute%2Bwith%2Belevations.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Normally, the climb up to Johnston Ridge is sort of challenging. It's not that tough, BUT this time Les - who is normally a paragon of reason - took off after about 600 feet of climbing. Before we knew it, he was 40-50 yards ahead of the rest of us. A chase ensued; and 1,200 feet of hard climbing later, we arrived at Johnston Ridge Observatory. I can't speak for the other guys, but I was "on the rivet" by the end of that climb!!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The signs on the way up said that the Johnston Ridge Observatory was "CLOSED". This was a potential problem, because we were going to need some water for the ride back. When we got there, we discovered the following: the parking lot was pretty full, the gift shop was open (including snacks), the bathrooms were open, there were drinking fountain's including "water bottle filling" stations and THERE WAS A FOOD TRUCK. Apparently, a visitor center being "closed" sometimes means that the displays and movies that are normally shown there are not open; but for us all of the vital services were open (and then some)...👍👍</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8yAxAi-hnA/YO43BJ3OHdI/AAAAAAAAV4A/Akfq4sEwi3E0dlGgAMBXjK88JpGMbrQwwCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05404.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_8yAxAi-hnA/YO43BJ3OHdI/AAAAAAAAV4A/Akfq4sEwi3E0dlGgAMBXjK88JpGMbrQwwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05404.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADCPgv-JBD4/YO43BP4zfKI/AAAAAAAAV4A/sqaunCq2O_8HhFMQM6uh9NY8YejHok3KwCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05405.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADCPgv-JBD4/YO43BP4zfKI/AAAAAAAAV4A/sqaunCq2O_8HhFMQM6uh9NY8YejHok3KwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05405.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8i0Jq-tFyXM/YO43LxlVZGI/AAAAAAAAV4E/90i4TZTu8XYQzopw7DA5XL-IrFPNnx5-wCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_0026.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8i0Jq-tFyXM/YO43LxlVZGI/AAAAAAAAV4E/90i4TZTu8XYQzopw7DA5XL-IrFPNnx5-wCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/IMG_0026.HEIC" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom, Mike & Mount St. Helens...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JpCKKOckXGM/YO43L6dZV8I/AAAAAAAAV4E/XTylbKRYwFwoGDfOSfdJ0bOp7ME_JgIBQCPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05402.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2957" data-original-width="5472" height="346" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JpCKKOckXGM/YO43L6dZV8I/AAAAAAAAV4E/XTylbKRYwFwoGDfOSfdJ0bOp7ME_JgIBQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h346/DSC05402.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Okay, 42 miles and 5,000 feet of climbing done; and 42 miles and 2,200 feet of climbing left to go - no problem (after a rest, food and water at Johnston Ridge). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I don't have any photos of the descent from Johnston Ridge (it's difficult to take photos when you are hurtling down a mountain at 35-40 mph). I know - I'm such a wimp...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We had one more 1,200 foot climb to go from Coldwater Lake back up to Elk Rock Lookout. I was sort of dreading this climb, because I wasn't sure how tough it would be. As it turned out, it wasn't bad. The grade wasn't steep enough to be a problem, so we just sort of cruised up. We stopped at Elk Rock Lookout to take a couple of photos...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1zIhCR-Tlvw/YO45-QIwK5I/AAAAAAAAV4Q/EJpRQpMJYMAxdnmKUnJhoPa0Sl23ynGOwCPcBGAsYHg/s5472/DSC05410.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2892" data-original-width="5472" height="338" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1zIhCR-Tlvw/YO45-QIwK5I/AAAAAAAAV4Q/EJpRQpMJYMAxdnmKUnJhoPa0Sl23ynGOwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h338/DSC05410.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BH0jvtfhYB8/YO45-YTV_CI/AAAAAAAAV4Q/w--iVOKZ0qYQsUjqlovxLZnkb3hnVwEUQCPcBGAsYHg/s3327/IMG_6321.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1937" data-original-width="3327" height="372" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BH0jvtfhYB8/YO45-YTV_CI/AAAAAAAAV4Q/w--iVOKZ0qYQsUjqlovxLZnkb3hnVwEUQCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h372/IMG_6321.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">From Elk Rock Lookout, it was pretty much downhill most of the way to Toutle (which was good as most of us were feeling fatigued). The ride down was uneventful except for Scott Wagar's flat tire - which he seemed to fix in about 5 minutes (good job, Scott).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KLkIYF3cTU/YO47GqPD84I/AAAAAAAAV4c/YFvEXfw1vR0763Tz9grabBPzAKLKuf_aACPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05416.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KLkIYF3cTU/YO47GqPD84I/AAAAAAAAV4c/YFvEXfw1vR0763Tz9grabBPzAKLKuf_aACPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05416.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uKD1rOVn3Pw/YO47Ggm9V6I/AAAAAAAAV4c/dS2pW-R4v3kxNLnYQZJMLeDwXV1LdyqmwCPcBGAsYHg/s5333/DSC05417.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="5333" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uKD1rOVn3Pw/YO47Ggm9V6I/AAAAAAAAV4c/dS2pW-R4v3kxNLnYQZJMLeDwXV1LdyqmwCPcBGAsYHg/w640-h360/DSC05417.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom & Les...</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I had sort of forgotten what an awesome ride this is. We had a nice sized group (5 guys is very manageable), we had great scenery and the weather was fine.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Can't wait for our next ride... 👍👍</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">To see the entire photo album for this ride, click on the following link: </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> <a href="https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipM5tr4sO7EBld5riSPeKD8H8n0wdaccZ5hX5_NjMVnTk-eQlL2nKNgMYkiLqrkcqg?key=SXpVVGo1UUZ2V19GbVhuZWFGTUxMbV9HV09CVE1R" target="_blank">07-10-2021 Mt St Helens Ride (Tour de Blast Route)</a></span></b></div></span></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508932551868389381.post-76502451112553983962021-07-05T20:15:00.007-07:002021-07-05T20:19:01.524-07:0006-26-2021 Bon Jon Pedal Bender<p> Author: Dwaine Trummert</p><p><br /></p><div class="post-header" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-9213955344309647191" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 716px;"><p></p><p>As the day of the Bon Jon Pedal Bender gravel race approached Adam and I were not concerned about the distance. Eighty miles of gravel was well within our wheelhouse. The elevation gain of 8700 feet was more than nothing but not outside our comfort zone. Our main concern was the weather.<br /><br />The Pacific Northwest was <a href="https://cliffmass.blogspot.com/2021/06/a-one-hundred-year-heat-wave-event.html" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">forecast for record setting heat</a> and the Bon Jon Pedal Bender was scheduled for day one of the three day scorcher. Race strategy discussions were replaced with heat mitigation discussions. We rummaged our closets for our lightest kits. We added additional bottle holders to our bikes. We lowered our finish position ambitions.<br /><br />Neither of us knew what to expect from the terrain over and around <a href="http://adventurescript.com/?p=100" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Bon Jon Pass</a>. The elevation profile showed us that the first third of the route captured two thirds of the climbing. It also showed a tough climb at mile fifty. We opted for the long route which featured outer and inner loops that took us up and over the pass twice. The twice around format also made it easy for riders to opt out of the second ascent effectively letting them ride the medium length course.<br /><br />Race day arrived with a finalized forecast of 98 degrees Fahrenheit for Quilcene. I hoped the shade and elevation of the forest might temper that number. My estimation was that we would see ambient air temperature on the course of 70 to 90 degrees for all but the final few miles.<br /><br />We settled on a race plan that was fairly fluid. We hoped to start in an early wave. We wanted to put in some work early to get the bulk of the climbing behind us before the sun began to work us over. We needed to remain objective about the heat's affect in real time as the day progressed. We committed to safety over race results.<br /> <br />We crossed the start line at 8 a.m. sharp in the first wave of starters. This group of ambitious racers quickly found itself climbing in earnest. Within twenty minutes Adam and I let the leaders go up the road and found a more moderate pace. This part of the day went well. The roads were friendly. The promoter described sections of the course as 'rustic pavement' and that description was spot on. The majority of the gravel portions remained smooth. The air of the forest remained amenable.<br /><br />At the 45 minute mark we were caught by a group of strong and steady riders that started one or two minutes behind us. We matched their pace and let them pull us across the short flats that punctuated the longer climbing pitches.<br /><br />As we climbed we remained vigilant about hydration. All three of my water bottles were filled with Tailwind Nutrition Endurance Blend. Adam carried a similar load. We targeted a minimum consumption of one bottle per hour and repeatedly reminded each other to drink on schedule. After an hour of climbing the race appeared to be going as well as could be expected. Our spirits remained upbeat.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-PBqRtHL/0/XL/i-PBqRtHL-XL.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="426" src="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-PBqRtHL/0/XL/i-PBqRtHL-XL.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px; text-align: center;">The first climb was long but manageable. The heat had not yet hit us. Adam was riding strong. Photo by <a href="https://www.jessemajor.com/Gravel-Unravel-Bon-Jon-Pedal-Bender-2021/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Jesse Major</a>.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><p><br />Adam was feeling well and took a turn at the front across one of these flats. Foolishly I did as well. And that short effort became my undoing.<br /><br />Within ten minutes of my turn at the front I needed to let our small group slip up the road. Adam followed my instruction to 'Go' with the group. I was forced to accept that I couldn't climb as well as I had just a few weeks ago.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 4px; position: relative;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-hKwB55C/0/XL/i-hKwB55C-XL.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="426" src="https://photos.smugmug.com/photos/i-hKwB55C/0/XL/i-hKwB55C-XL.jpg" style="background: transparent; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.4px; text-align: center;">I was working a bit harder than Adam when I came upon the photographer. But I was still happy to be racing my bike in the woods. Photo by <a href="https://www.jessemajor.com/Gravel-Unravel-Bon-Jon-Pedal-Bender-2021/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Jesse Major</a>.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />I soloed for the next 30 minutes. I crested the first summit at mile eighteen. The road pitched down for five miles before pitching back up. Just a mile later I reached the first aid station where I was able to connect with Adam and our small group.<br /><br />Adam and I are no strangers to fast aid station stops. A Payday candy bar was stashed in my pocket as I filled my two empty bottles. The group was not yet ready to go. The door to the portable bathroom was open. I took a preemptive visit only to find there was no need. This was a stark contrast from from my normal cycling urination schedule. A mental note was made that a bottle an hour might not be adequate as the day progressed.<br /><br />One more mile of climbing laid ahead and I worked hard to stay with Adam. We crested Jon Bon Pass together. The road was twisty, potholed, and our group strung out a bit. At mile twenty seven the course turned off the more traveled gravel road and onto a narrow two track trail. The grade was slightly down, the trees crowded the trail providing shade, and the twists kept it interesting.<br /><br />The two track trail was an excellent opportunity for me to make good on the time I lost on the climb. The trail weaved through the trees and I thoroughly enjoyed sweeping side to side as the trail wound its way around rocks, trees, and occasional puddles.<br /><br />When the route re-emerged onto a more traveled road I expected Adam to catch me right away. As I kept an eye behind I found myself near a <a href="https://silverdaleautoworks.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Silverdale Autoworks</a> rider. We descended together and had time to chat a bit when we reached the flatter and paved Palo Alto road. This rider had ridden many of these roads as had his teammates. Shortly there after we caught one of his many teammates and a strong rider joined from behind to make a group of four. The riders from Silverdale Autoworks demonstrated their familiarity with the road and we took the descending portions at pace.<br /><br />Mile 44 brought the second of four aid stations and the return to more rolling terrain. It also provided the thirty seconds necessary for Adam to bring us back together. We filled our bottles, I grabbed a bag of salty potato chips, and we remounted. With us was Andrew.</p><p>Adam and Andrew had joined forces before the aid station. Andrew was at least as strong as us and we welcomed his help on the flats.<br /><br />The three of us pedaled towards our impending doom. I devoured my Ruffles brand chips. I was craving the salt. Adam was amused as they tickled my throat and I coughed half of them back up.</p><p>Adam and I shared with Andrew our final climb strategy. We had full bottles and were sipping constantly. We would climb at sustainable effort levels. We then took thirty seconds to remove and stow jerseys for maximum cooling. At mile fifty we reached Lord's Lake and the right hand turn towards Bon Jon Pass.<br /><br />The turn at Lord's Lake onto Little Quilcene Road also marked a crossroads in course layout. Medium course riders skipped Little Quilcene Road and started their final five miles of pavement to the finish. Long course riders turned right to start the thirty mile inner loop.<br /><br />As the three of us lamented the twenty foot chain link fence that separated us from the blue and inviting waters of the Lord's Lake reservoir the climbing began. Just five and one half miles separated us from the top of Bon Jon Pass. Unfortunately that distance also included the additional barrier of 2000 feet of climbing.<br /><br />Soon enough each of us was fighting our thermal limit. There was no chatting. The dust from descending short course riders stuck to my perspiration covered skin. The road offered too little shade.<br /><br />After just a mile Adam hailed me that he needed to slow. I stopped and we discussed his condition. He was being cautious and wanted me to go ahead at my own pace. We both knew cooling salvation could be found by reversing course and descending towards Lords Lake.<br /><br />I dropped my pace a bit even as I climbed away from Adam. Andrew and I yoyoed back and forth as we climbed towards the aid station. I frequently dismounted and walked never letting myself come to a complete stand still. Andrew attacked the climb differently. He pedaled from shade to shade stopping at some for a moment of rest.<br /><br />During one of my walks I told Andrew not to wait. I told Andrew I was a mess and not likely to go any faster. I told him, however, I would not give up. I did not give up. But I wanted to.<br /><br />The aid station at mile 54 brought a momentary distraction from the heat. I wasted no time. I filled all three bottles, chose another salty snack, and told Andrew I would soft pedal up the road. Andrew was in no hurry and instructed me not to wait. One final look down the road did not reveal Adam.<br /><br />Later I learned of Adam's experience climbing to the third aid station. The heat was having a profound affect. My earlier estimation of 70 to 90 degree ambient air was way off. Adam's Garmin saw 100 degrees F. He stopped to rest and cool. He considered turning around. Eventually he soldiered his way up to the aid station but chose to go no further. With four fifths of the climb behind him he made the safe call. He turned and descended.<br /><br />My final mile of climbing hurt but seemed to go by quickly. I took in the relief when the gradient temporarily slackened. I choked on my chips again but did so without an audience. I found the top of Bon Jon Pass which marked the end of the serious climbing. The entire climb from Lord's Lake to Bon Jon Pass cost me three bottles of water and almost exactly one hour of time and provided much more misery than I had budgeted for.<br /><br />The inner loop re-used a portion of the outer loop including the narrow two track. With re-found vigor I attacked this section. Instead of avoiding the puddles I found excuses to buzz them encouraging the spray from my front wheel to provide additional cooling. Near the end of this section I caught and passed a Silverdale Autoworks rider.<br /><br />At mile 61 the course turned right. The remainder of the course was flat or down hill and remained on the straighter and more open roads. I hoped to find another rider to share the pacemaking. I slowed and looked over my shoulder. The Silverdale Autoworks rider filled my near field of vision and Andrew filled my far. I was caught by the Silverdale Autoworks rider. Andrew fell just short of connecting when the descending started.<br /><br />The rider from Silverdale Autoworks knew this dirt road well and descended it perfectly. Only by keying off him was I able to match his pace. After five miles of gravel descending we reached a flat section. I had high praise for his descending skills and he had high praise that I kept up. He told me most people don't. I felt my chest puff just a little after his compliment.<br /><br />A strong rider joined us from behind and the pace picked up. I took only a single pull over the next ten miles.<br /><br />With five miles of descending left to go the road turned to pavement and I was dropped. The stronger rider powered away. The Silverdale Autoworks rider gave chase. He was as adapt descending pavement as gravel and gapped me at the first corner. I kept them in sight but lacked the strength to close the distance. The finish came none to soon and I was relieved to be off the bike.<br /><br />Over the next thirty minutes my body and mind returned to normal. A water source was found to rinse away the sweat, salt, dust, and for a few minutes at least, the heat. A cold beer and lukewarm bratwurst rekindled my soul. Fresh clothes did wonders for my spirits.<br /><br />On the day of the event we spoke little about our position in the race. Not until well after I finished did I learn that I scored 6th in 5h:56m:34s. I also learned I was within striking distance of both 4th and 5th positions who were just two minutes faster. The winner of my group, men's masters, finished about twenty-seven minutes faster than me.<br /><br />My finish position sounded pretty good until I dug farther into the results. Only eleven of the twenty-eight riders registered in my class finished. I was unable to determine if the non finishers chose not to start or chose to ride a shorter course or abandoned all together. Either way the oppressing heat pushed down the number of long course finishers.<br /><br />Adam and I reached some conclusions about our day during the drive home. Our legs did not limit our performance as much as the heat. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quilcene,_Washington" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Quilcene</a> area gravel roads were often lovely smooth right until they became potholed from ditch to ditch. We had no regrets about giving up a few minutes here and there to ensure we avoided heat stroke. We were relieved to be done with hottest and least enjoyable day of cycling in memory.<br /><br />On the ride home I sent a simple text to my wife's inquiry about the race. She asked 'how did it go?'. My answer was crafted quickly and on the fly yet I cannot improve on the sentiment. Short and to the point I sent back 'pretty miserable'.<br /></p><div><br /></div><p></p></div>Puyallup Cyclopathshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15876378441439445969noreply@blogger.com0