Author: Chris Fox
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| Rolling out, with great expectations for an 80 mile morning ... |
It may not have registered on a Richter’s Scale, but
there was a whole lot of shaking going on today as thinly clad cyclists with
minimal body fat manifested the initial symptoms of hypothermia on the western
road of Mount Rainier National Park. It
certainly wasn’t the expectation of twelve Cyclopaths to etch such memories as
they set out early Saturday morning for the annual “Skate Creek Loop”, an 80
mile ride through the beautiful forested and alpine setting.
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| Entering the Park: note the dry road... |
The opening miles were marked by easy pedaling and
stimulating conversations. Then the
3,700 foot climb began to Paradise Lodge 18 miles ahead. Conor and new arrival, Mario, took the
lead while the remainder of us settled into a steady cadence. Ominously, elevation and precipitation rose
in inverse proportion to descending fog and temperature. Mount Rainier was not to be seen. After a few miles we passed Longmire Inn: 2,761 feet, another 11 miles and 2,700 feet to
the Lodge. Except for an occasional
car we were alone on the roadway, the hour and the weather deterring many park
visitors. The rushing waters of the
Nisqually River provided a background symphony.
At the two hour mark four of us joined Connor and Mario
at the Lodge. While Jim went in search
of hot chocolate, I found the men’s room where warm water brought life back to
my fingers but the hand dryer had little effect on my wet socks.
After a few minutes we decided to reunite with the others
and check on their condition. Leaving
the warmth of the lodge a park ranger kindly warned the road might be dangerous
and cautioned us to be careful out there; prescient words, indeed. It took just a few turns of the pedals into
the blowing drizzle to concede the 80 mile loop had to be dramatically
shortened.
While the ascent had been rather methodical, the descent
was downright maniacal. Chilled to the
bone and lacking feeling in the extremities, maintaining control on the
patchwork asphalt was quite challenging.
I found myself losing control of the bike as my shivering limbs
transferred instability to the frame.
Tucking my knees to the tubing didn’t help. The only answer, but not solution, was to dismount
and begin running around, flapping my arms in a bizarre circulation inducing callisthenic. Passing motorists, cozy and warm, probably
thought it a tourist attraction; perhaps a comedian pantomiming an ancient Cascadian
ritual.
Further down the road we met the remainder of our group
huddled around Les who was experiencing more serious symptoms. Apparently he had taken his cycling
reputation as the “Silent Assassin” to a new level by forming ice in his
veins. Fortunately, a car with good
Samaritans
stopped. The driver - a
paramedic/bike owner/former Category One racer - and his wife - a nurse - gladly
transported Les (and his bike) to the Longmire Inn where the rest of us later found
him by the warming fire. Actually, he
was behind the screen, appearing to be crawling into the fire. Were we witnessing extreme measures to
rekindle circulation? No, he assured us,
only adding wood to the flames. We all
huddled round him, sharing stories as we wrung water from our clothing and
moderated our shaking.
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| David taking Les' place on "fire duty"... |
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| Warming slowly... |
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| Irrepressible Jim prerparing to "turn up the heat"... |
In his book, An
Ascent of Mount Rainier, John Muir wrote of his indebtedness to Mr. Longmire
in 1888. One hundred twenty-six years
later similar sentiments of gratitude are extended to the Longmire staff for the hospitality they
provided to this group of cyclists who, finally, had sense to come in out of
the rain.
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| Conor, dry t-shirt and socks... and look at those shoes!!! |
To see all of the photos associated with this ride, click on the following link: https://plus.google.com/photos/103821724300588557330/albums/6025206284205650817?banner=pwa .
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