Cross season is over for me. It was fun, but I'm tired of racing for a while. Time for a short break then start training for the spring racing season and my goal for the year, Race Across Oregon, solo.
I have been doing most of my rides for the past couple of weeks in the Macdonald forest, solo, with friends and this weekend with my son Danny. It was a glorius fall, warm weather until the end of November. Winter came late, but it looks like it's almost here.
Copper colored leaves
Blanket the muddy trail like
Bran flakes for the earth
Monday, December 1, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Rocky Mountain 1200 Ride Report
The Rocky Mountain 1200 (RM 1200) held July 23-27 was my key objective for the ’08 season. It rose to the top of my list after I heard that my Rando riding buddies John “Kramer” Kramer and Dave “Ready to Ride” Rowe had selected it as their biggest ride for the year. It promised to be a tough ride with plenty of distance and climbing. My objective for the ride was to finish within 90 hours, with more sleep than PBP ’07 (>6 hours).
My training for the Rocky included a Super Randonneur series, a few long weekend back to back solo 100mi plus rides, The Mid Valley Bicycle Club’s Loop Tour with my family and the Death Ride. Carpooling north to the start at Kamloops British Columbia with Dave Rowe I felt ready for the ride. We got aligned on expectations and reviewed the ride plan I’d prepared. We ran into several other Randos when we arrived in Kamloops on Tuesday evening and settled down to wait for the start. Kamloops climbs up a hill side from a river junction, and the climate and fauna seemed a lot like the Columbia Plateau (Spokane). We had a whole day and filled the time with eating, sleeping, packing the drop bags and final prep of the bikes. The long day of waiting finally ended and we were ready for our 10pm Wednesday 7/23 start.
About 80 of the 100 riders elected to start at 10pm with a 90 hour limit, while the balance opted for a 4 am start and an 84 hour limit. We rolled out of town with the 90 hour group just at sunset. It was a warm clear night, and there was minimal conversation as the group strung out on the road. The 4 lane highway out of town eventually narrowed to two lanes, with occasional semi and other traffic. BC is big and the part we were in was pretty empty, so the semis flew down the highway. At one point we went through a narrow twisting canyon with poor shoulders. We came upon a rock slide that spilled onto the shoulder and smelled fresh burning rubber from a semi that had locked its’ brakes. We saw a bicyclist at the side of the road, but he looked OK, just regaining his composure, so we pushed hard to get out of the chokepoint before the next semi came along.
We kept a fast pace to the first control, and arrived at Clearwater at 2:43am, along with many other riders. After a quick stop we were on our way again. We were way ahead of my projected pace, partly due to the terrain being a gentle uphill river grade, with not many hills. It was a beautiful clear evening that was quite cold when we saw a shooting star just ahead of us. At dawn we hooked up with a line of riders and kept a very fast pace to the next control, Blue River at 229 km, 7:12 am. Dave, John and I were using Hammer’s Perpetuum liquid food, so we quickly refilled our bottles and left almost all the 90 hour riders behind us while they waited for breakfast service from one waitress and one cook at the truck stop. After that control, we were at the front of the pack. That meant for the rest of the ride the people at the controls were very glad to see us and we got first dibs on food, showers and sleeping spots.
We continued uphill river grade for most of the rest of the day. We were cruising, but not suffering and all three of us set personal best times for 200km, 300km, and 400km. Short stops at the controls was part of the reason for our rapid progress, along with a moderate tailwind and a steady uphill river grade without many hills.
Before Valemount, we saw our first bear of the trip. A large black bear crossed the highway about 75 yards ahead of us. He was sleek and ran with a fluid motion across the road and directly into the woods. From Valemount we started into the Rockies and the incredible views. We rode directly towards Mt Robson (see picture) and then turned right (south). We departed from the river and climbed the Tete Jaune pass. At the top of the pass we crossed the Northern Continental divide into territory where water flows to Hudson Bay and eventually the Arctic Ocean. We caught up with our first drop bags at Jasper and decided to shower, sleep and eat a couple of meals of real food. It was before 5 and we’d covered more than a third of the distance already and were way ahead of our plan. We planned 5 hours total off the bike and I got a solid three hours of sleep. John wasn’t so lucky and wasn’t able to sleep in the stuffy church basement. He rolled out slightly ahead of us in the twilight, and we figured we’d catch him on the climb to Beauty Creek. We rode along and talked to a couple of Canadians, Dan and Mike from Alberta. They’d taken more time at the controls and consequently hadn’t slept yet, while Dave and I were refreshed from our break. We pulled John back into sight and then let him go again when Dave and I stopped to put on all our warm clothes. We pulled in to Beauty Creek at 2:37 am just as Sophie Matter was leaving. We’d ridden with her off and on for the first day, but she had continued to Beauty Creek while we slept at Jasper. Now she was just leaving that control as we arrived. She was traveling lighter and was definitely stronger. She did the Icefields at 3 am (it was 37c) with a windbreaker. Her persistence paid off and she set a new women’s course record of 64:44. We had pancakes with Nutella and a half hour power nap in individual bunks. It was the best sleep of the trip and we were back on the road an hour after we rolled in. We were comfortable with every piece of wool clothing we had plus all our raingear on. The sky was brightening as we climbed away from Beauty Creek, past the Columbia Icefields and up to Sunwapta Pass. It was the perfect time of day for the climb. It was plenty cool for the ascent, but we still had to remove clothes as we overheated. The sky brightened with the mountains gradually being revealed, first as black shapes with the glaciers visible in the starlight, then the size of the mountains became more obvious in the gray light of dawn, and finally the sun gilded the tops of the mountains across the valley. We encountered a mountain goat on the way up the pass, but very little traffic because we crested the pass about 6 am. All our clothes came back on for the long cold descent to the Crossing Restaurant. A quick bite (the first busload of tourists showed up just as we were leaving, so there wasn’t a queue) and we were on our way to the next pass. Bow Pass was a long and not very steep climb, followed by a long gradual descent through Banff Park to Lake Louise. This whole section we had spectacular mountains on both sides of us. By the time we reached the Lake Louise control it was noon and quite warm so we had some watermelon and a break before doing the quick out and back to Castle Rock. Coming back into Lake Louise John was out of sight off the front, and we weren’t sure whether he’d stopped again at the control; after a short wait we decided he was still ahead and Dave and I proceeded west on the TransCanada highway. It's a two to four lane highway with lots of traffic because it’s the main road from BC to the rest of Canada.
Kicking Horse Pass was on the route sheet after Castle Junction with an altitude of 1700m. We expected to climb to the pass, but didn't realize we were already at 1600m. We only climbed a little and came to the top unexpectedly. It was 5 on a Friday afternoon and there was plenty of traffic. Coming over the top the shoulder, which was already narrow got much worse and we were faced with an unexpected 7% 10 km descent with the semis winding up to pass us. The road was carved into the side of the gorge of the Kicking Horse River. On our right was a foot of broken pavement for the shoulder, a guardrail with occasional gaps and a thousand foot drop down the cliff. Basically we had to fight the semis for the lane on the downhill while pushing our speed up. I saw my maximum heart rate for the trip on the descent, and not because of exertion.
At the bottom of the descent we stopped at a rest area to get our nerves back and ran into a guy who said that the descent into Golden was worse. Another big descent, but we'd be on the inside against the cliff wall, the road was two lanes, double yellow most of the way with no shoulder, it was twistier and there was an uphill halfway through the descent. He recommended taking the lane ahead of a semi. It sounded like a good idea so we thought about how to do it and survive on the next 50km of marginal riding along the shoulder. At the truck brake check area before the descent into Golden, we approached a semi driver and Dave talked him into giving us a hand. He came up behind us on the descent and blocked traffic. When it opened up temporarily to two lanes he left us on our own and then blocked again for us on the narrow part of the uphill. Since he was blocking traffic we went all out to minimize the disruption. It was another peak heart rate section, but the semi helped make it a little safer and less terrifying.
At Golden at 19:20 we caught our second drop bags and also caught back up to John. We were way ahead of schedule, and decided to eat (dinner and breakfast), shower and sleep again. Dave’s knee was bothering him, so he needed a rest and we hoped that riding the TransCanada would be more pleasant in the dark. After another three hours of sleep we were back on the road at 12:30 am. The trucks were still on the road but they could see us for a long way with our flashing red lights, and there wasn’t much oncoming traffic so they could use the opposite lane and give us plenty of room. We missed some scenery, but our timing worked out so that it was dawn as we came through Canada’s Glacier National Park. It was another beautiful dawn in the high mountains. We climbed up Roger’s pass in the very early morning, just after dawn. It was the last significant pass of the Rockies so I plugged in my iPod and cranked up the hill. There were 5 tunnels (snow sheds) on the climb, so the challenge was to time my transits through the tunnels so I wasn’t in one at the same time as a semi or an RV. We regrouped at the top and had a power nap in the foyer of the resort.
After the top of Rogers Pass it was a very long gradual descent to Revelstoke. John was sleepy so we stopped at a camping resort and had a nap on some picnic tables until a light rain woke us up. We only had rain gear on for a half hour, just enough to be able to say that we used every piece of gear we brought along on the ride. It was Saturday morning and the traffic on the TransCanada kept building. With lots of RVs, trucks with boats and plenty of semis on a (mostly) two lane highway it wasn’t very pleasant. We were coming out of the mountains, and the spectacular scenery was behind us. This was the least fun part of the ride, and we just needed to keep pedaling through it. After a long day in the saddle, we finally arrived at Enderby at 14:35. The temperature was quite high (my bike computer said 103 in the sun). Dave needed to ice his knees, so John and I had power naps. When Dave was ready to go, we had a discussion about slowing down the pace to finish together, or just leaving Dave to finish on his own. We were well ahead of our original plan, and even at a slower pace we’d have still have personal best times, so we decided to slow down and drag Dave in. The whole rando dichotomy of race vs ride was really clear. Kramer has a foot in the "race" camp, is focused on getting medals and hardware and is really more comfortable riding solo. Dave has a triathlete's vision of competing with himself, which is a modified "race" focus. For me, it's a break from racing, but I'm willing work hard as a domestique to support the other guy's objectives and to ride with them. I probably could've gone faster solo than riding with my buddies, but why? I did the SIR 400K about half solo, and it wasn't as much fun.
It was a pretty short leg to the Salmon Arm control, which we arrived at just before 5 pm. We could smell the barn after 1100 out of 1200 km and the people at the control said we only had 5 hills left to the finish. We’d slowed down, but were still way ahead of my original plan. It looked like we’d be into Kamloops a day early, so John called the hotel to advance our hotel reservation and found that we needed to pick up the key before 11 pm when the front desk closed. We had a meal and than rolled out, a screaming downhill through Salmon Arm to the river that lead to Kamloops. The highway improved, with wider shoulders. Traffic also decreased as the evening wore on. We rolled through the evening with occasional stops for Dave’s knee to recover. I did math in my head to stay awake and revised our ETA as we rolled along. First I was shooting for a 70 hour total (a RAAM qualifying time), then 72 hours (a nice round number). Eventually it became clear that at our current pace we’d miss the 11pm target at the hotel, so John volunteered to push in and get the room key and I volunteered to stay with Dave. John disappeared into the dusk with 70km to go. My new tentative target was to get in before midnight (74 hours). The highway was rolling along next to a set of busy railroad tracks and Dave and I rolled through the dusk and into darkness. I kept Dave in sight in my mirror, and he had my tail light to focus on. It was a surreal segment of the ride, with noise from the freight trains roaring by on one side and the semis passing us on the other. I cranked up the iPod and just enjoyed the ride. We could see the glow in the sky from Kamloops for the final 40km, and rolled through an industrial landscape as we came into town. Eventually, it became clear that we were actually in town and then the control came into sight. We rolled in at 11:52, with a total time of 73:52. It was the fastest 1200k we’d ever done and we celebrated with a beer before heading to the hotel.
We slept in the next morning, then had a large breakfast, a big lunch, spent the afternoon at the Kamloops aquatic center and went to the banquet. After another night of sleep we headed back to the states.
On the way back, Dave and I talked about goals for ’09. There are lots of possibilities but I haven't settled on any. I'm leaning toward doing Race Across Oregon solo (it really is a race) plus a Super Randonneur series and a 1200K. Possibilities are London-Edinburgh-London (1500K, but might be very expensive); the Gold Rush 1200K (near Susanville, cheapest and least vacation time, the downside is that it'll probably be very hot) or the new Granite Anvil 1200K in Ontario, Canada (new route, good roads).
My training for the Rocky included a Super Randonneur series, a few long weekend back to back solo 100mi plus rides, The Mid Valley Bicycle Club’s Loop Tour with my family and the Death Ride. Carpooling north to the start at Kamloops British Columbia with Dave Rowe I felt ready for the ride. We got aligned on expectations and reviewed the ride plan I’d prepared. We ran into several other Randos when we arrived in Kamloops on Tuesday evening and settled down to wait for the start. Kamloops climbs up a hill side from a river junction, and the climate and fauna seemed a lot like the Columbia Plateau (Spokane). We had a whole day and filled the time with eating, sleeping, packing the drop bags and final prep of the bikes. The long day of waiting finally ended and we were ready for our 10pm Wednesday 7/23 start.
About 80 of the 100 riders elected to start at 10pm with a 90 hour limit, while the balance opted for a 4 am start and an 84 hour limit. We rolled out of town with the 90 hour group just at sunset. It was a warm clear night, and there was minimal conversation as the group strung out on the road. The 4 lane highway out of town eventually narrowed to two lanes, with occasional semi and other traffic. BC is big and the part we were in was pretty empty, so the semis flew down the highway. At one point we went through a narrow twisting canyon with poor shoulders. We came upon a rock slide that spilled onto the shoulder and smelled fresh burning rubber from a semi that had locked its’ brakes. We saw a bicyclist at the side of the road, but he looked OK, just regaining his composure, so we pushed hard to get out of the chokepoint before the next semi came along.
We kept a fast pace to the first control, and arrived at Clearwater at 2:43am, along with many other riders. After a quick stop we were on our way again. We were way ahead of my projected pace, partly due to the terrain being a gentle uphill river grade, with not many hills. It was a beautiful clear evening that was quite cold when we saw a shooting star just ahead of us. At dawn we hooked up with a line of riders and kept a very fast pace to the next control, Blue River at 229 km, 7:12 am. Dave, John and I were using Hammer’s Perpetuum liquid food, so we quickly refilled our bottles and left almost all the 90 hour riders behind us while they waited for breakfast service from one waitress and one cook at the truck stop. After that control, we were at the front of the pack. That meant for the rest of the ride the people at the controls were very glad to see us and we got first dibs on food, showers and sleeping spots.
We continued uphill river grade for most of the rest of the day. We were cruising, but not suffering and all three of us set personal best times for 200km, 300km, and 400km. Short stops at the controls was part of the reason for our rapid progress, along with a moderate tailwind and a steady uphill river grade without many hills.
Before Valemount, we saw our first bear of the trip. A large black bear crossed the highway about 75 yards ahead of us. He was sleek and ran with a fluid motion across the road and directly into the woods. From Valemount we started into the Rockies and the incredible views. We rode directly towards Mt Robson (see picture) and then turned right (south). We departed from the river and climbed the Tete Jaune pass. At the top of the pass we crossed the Northern Continental divide into territory where water flows to Hudson Bay and eventually the Arctic Ocean. We caught up with our first drop bags at Jasper and decided to shower, sleep and eat a couple of meals of real food. It was before 5 and we’d covered more than a third of the distance already and were way ahead of our plan. We planned 5 hours total off the bike and I got a solid three hours of sleep. John wasn’t so lucky and wasn’t able to sleep in the stuffy church basement. He rolled out slightly ahead of us in the twilight, and we figured we’d catch him on the climb to Beauty Creek. We rode along and talked to a couple of Canadians, Dan and Mike from Alberta. They’d taken more time at the controls and consequently hadn’t slept yet, while Dave and I were refreshed from our break. We pulled John back into sight and then let him go again when Dave and I stopped to put on all our warm clothes. We pulled in to Beauty Creek at 2:37 am just as Sophie Matter was leaving. We’d ridden with her off and on for the first day, but she had continued to Beauty Creek while we slept at Jasper. Now she was just leaving that control as we arrived. She was traveling lighter and was definitely stronger. She did the Icefields at 3 am (it was 37c) with a windbreaker. Her persistence paid off and she set a new women’s course record of 64:44. We had pancakes with Nutella and a half hour power nap in individual bunks. It was the best sleep of the trip and we were back on the road an hour after we rolled in. We were comfortable with every piece of wool clothing we had plus all our raingear on. The sky was brightening as we climbed away from Beauty Creek, past the Columbia Icefields and up to Sunwapta Pass. It was the perfect time of day for the climb. It was plenty cool for the ascent, but we still had to remove clothes as we overheated. The sky brightened with the mountains gradually being revealed, first as black shapes with the glaciers visible in the starlight, then the size of the mountains became more obvious in the gray light of dawn, and finally the sun gilded the tops of the mountains across the valley. We encountered a mountain goat on the way up the pass, but very little traffic because we crested the pass about 6 am. All our clothes came back on for the long cold descent to the Crossing Restaurant. A quick bite (the first busload of tourists showed up just as we were leaving, so there wasn’t a queue) and we were on our way to the next pass. Bow Pass was a long and not very steep climb, followed by a long gradual descent through Banff Park to Lake Louise. This whole section we had spectacular mountains on both sides of us. By the time we reached the Lake Louise control it was noon and quite warm so we had some watermelon and a break before doing the quick out and back to Castle Rock. Coming back into Lake Louise John was out of sight off the front, and we weren’t sure whether he’d stopped again at the control; after a short wait we decided he was still ahead and Dave and I proceeded west on the TransCanada highway. It's a two to four lane highway with lots of traffic because it’s the main road from BC to the rest of Canada.
Kicking Horse Pass was on the route sheet after Castle Junction with an altitude of 1700m. We expected to climb to the pass, but didn't realize we were already at 1600m. We only climbed a little and came to the top unexpectedly. It was 5 on a Friday afternoon and there was plenty of traffic. Coming over the top the shoulder, which was already narrow got much worse and we were faced with an unexpected 7% 10 km descent with the semis winding up to pass us. The road was carved into the side of the gorge of the Kicking Horse River. On our right was a foot of broken pavement for the shoulder, a guardrail with occasional gaps and a thousand foot drop down the cliff. Basically we had to fight the semis for the lane on the downhill while pushing our speed up. I saw my maximum heart rate for the trip on the descent, and not because of exertion.
At the bottom of the descent we stopped at a rest area to get our nerves back and ran into a guy who said that the descent into Golden was worse. Another big descent, but we'd be on the inside against the cliff wall, the road was two lanes, double yellow most of the way with no shoulder, it was twistier and there was an uphill halfway through the descent. He recommended taking the lane ahead of a semi. It sounded like a good idea so we thought about how to do it and survive on the next 50km of marginal riding along the shoulder. At the truck brake check area before the descent into Golden, we approached a semi driver and Dave talked him into giving us a hand. He came up behind us on the descent and blocked traffic. When it opened up temporarily to two lanes he left us on our own and then blocked again for us on the narrow part of the uphill. Since he was blocking traffic we went all out to minimize the disruption. It was another peak heart rate section, but the semi helped make it a little safer and less terrifying.
At Golden at 19:20 we caught our second drop bags and also caught back up to John. We were way ahead of schedule, and decided to eat (dinner and breakfast), shower and sleep again. Dave’s knee was bothering him, so he needed a rest and we hoped that riding the TransCanada would be more pleasant in the dark. After another three hours of sleep we were back on the road at 12:30 am. The trucks were still on the road but they could see us for a long way with our flashing red lights, and there wasn’t much oncoming traffic so they could use the opposite lane and give us plenty of room. We missed some scenery, but our timing worked out so that it was dawn as we came through Canada’s Glacier National Park. It was another beautiful dawn in the high mountains. We climbed up Roger’s pass in the very early morning, just after dawn. It was the last significant pass of the Rockies so I plugged in my iPod and cranked up the hill. There were 5 tunnels (snow sheds) on the climb, so the challenge was to time my transits through the tunnels so I wasn’t in one at the same time as a semi or an RV. We regrouped at the top and had a power nap in the foyer of the resort.
After the top of Rogers Pass it was a very long gradual descent to Revelstoke. John was sleepy so we stopped at a camping resort and had a nap on some picnic tables until a light rain woke us up. We only had rain gear on for a half hour, just enough to be able to say that we used every piece of gear we brought along on the ride. It was Saturday morning and the traffic on the TransCanada kept building. With lots of RVs, trucks with boats and plenty of semis on a (mostly) two lane highway it wasn’t very pleasant. We were coming out of the mountains, and the spectacular scenery was behind us. This was the least fun part of the ride, and we just needed to keep pedaling through it. After a long day in the saddle, we finally arrived at Enderby at 14:35. The temperature was quite high (my bike computer said 103 in the sun). Dave needed to ice his knees, so John and I had power naps. When Dave was ready to go, we had a discussion about slowing down the pace to finish together, or just leaving Dave to finish on his own. We were well ahead of our original plan, and even at a slower pace we’d have still have personal best times, so we decided to slow down and drag Dave in. The whole rando dichotomy of race vs ride was really clear. Kramer has a foot in the "race" camp, is focused on getting medals and hardware and is really more comfortable riding solo. Dave has a triathlete's vision of competing with himself, which is a modified "race" focus. For me, it's a break from racing, but I'm willing work hard as a domestique to support the other guy's objectives and to ride with them. I probably could've gone faster solo than riding with my buddies, but why? I did the SIR 400K about half solo, and it wasn't as much fun.
It was a pretty short leg to the Salmon Arm control, which we arrived at just before 5 pm. We could smell the barn after 1100 out of 1200 km and the people at the control said we only had 5 hills left to the finish. We’d slowed down, but were still way ahead of my original plan. It looked like we’d be into Kamloops a day early, so John called the hotel to advance our hotel reservation and found that we needed to pick up the key before 11 pm when the front desk closed. We had a meal and than rolled out, a screaming downhill through Salmon Arm to the river that lead to Kamloops. The highway improved, with wider shoulders. Traffic also decreased as the evening wore on. We rolled through the evening with occasional stops for Dave’s knee to recover. I did math in my head to stay awake and revised our ETA as we rolled along. First I was shooting for a 70 hour total (a RAAM qualifying time), then 72 hours (a nice round number). Eventually it became clear that at our current pace we’d miss the 11pm target at the hotel, so John volunteered to push in and get the room key and I volunteered to stay with Dave. John disappeared into the dusk with 70km to go. My new tentative target was to get in before midnight (74 hours). The highway was rolling along next to a set of busy railroad tracks and Dave and I rolled through the dusk and into darkness. I kept Dave in sight in my mirror, and he had my tail light to focus on. It was a surreal segment of the ride, with noise from the freight trains roaring by on one side and the semis passing us on the other. I cranked up the iPod and just enjoyed the ride. We could see the glow in the sky from Kamloops for the final 40km, and rolled through an industrial landscape as we came into town. Eventually, it became clear that we were actually in town and then the control came into sight. We rolled in at 11:52, with a total time of 73:52. It was the fastest 1200k we’d ever done and we celebrated with a beer before heading to the hotel.
We slept in the next morning, then had a large breakfast, a big lunch, spent the afternoon at the Kamloops aquatic center and went to the banquet. After another night of sleep we headed back to the states.
On the way back, Dave and I talked about goals for ’09. There are lots of possibilities but I haven't settled on any. I'm leaning toward doing Race Across Oregon solo (it really is a race) plus a Super Randonneur series and a 1200K. Possibilities are London-Edinburgh-London (1500K, but might be very expensive); the Gold Rush 1200K (near Susanville, cheapest and least vacation time, the downside is that it'll probably be very hot) or the new Granite Anvil 1200K in Ontario, Canada (new route, good roads).
Friday, August 1, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Looping in the Wallowas
The Mid Valley Bicycle Club puts on a loop tour for their members every year. Volunteers plan the route and make arrangements and then it is run twice, in June and late July. It started more than twenty years ago as a fully loaded tour, but has evolved to the point where about half the people have their camping gear sagged. The June tour is balanced toward adults and teenagers while the July tour includes a lot more young kids. About twenty five riders and three sag drivers did the June tour. The tour started Saturday, 6/21 and finished up Sunday 6/29. The route this year was around and through the Wallowa and Blue Mountains. It started in Pendleton, the first night was at a school in Weston; Over Tollgate pass to Minam campground; via Enterprise and Joseph to Wallowa Lake State Park; over another pass to Ollocote campground; another pass and a detour to the edge of Hell’s Canyon then a long downhill to Halfway; through the desert to Baker City; into the Blue Mountains past Sumpter and Granite to North Fork (of the John Day River) Campground; yet another pass to Lehman Hot springs; and then over Battle mountain and back to Pendleton.
This year’s tour was characterized by excellent weather; a severe T-storm almost blew the Eureka tents down the first night, after that it was beautiful; nights down to the 30's in the mountains and 50's in the desert; cool mornings; hot afternoons into the 80's; 100 on the last day into Pendleton. We used all our clothes except the rain gear.
The kids did great. They didn't have much time to train so they sagged; Katy was on the tandem with me; Benny and Danny were on their own bikes, relatively unloaded; Ted was on my cross bike cause it had the lowest gears (with a compact-34x27). Ted is uncoordinated and didn't learn to ride as a kid. He doubled his total bicycling time on this ride and only crashed the first three days in a row, (no blood, no foul). He was slowest (of the Ahlvins) up all the hills, but did EFI. I was nervous about him descending but stationed one of the boys behind him and he did OK. He did ride over a snake when he couldn't dodge it like the rest of the guys in the paceline. By the last day he could hang in a paceline with the tandem in front; we averaged >18mph into Pendleton despite a mountain and headwind. For the other kids it was a vacation, for Teddy it was a huge accomplishment.
Linda drove the sag wagon (Element with rocket launcher) because it was a chance to share a family vacation. She did well, but it's a pretty boring job. She finished "Great Expectations", 1000 pages of fine print, while she was sagging. She enjoys cooking and camping and since all our stuff was allocated to our own car she brought a camp kitchen, including a Dutch Oven. If you're going to sag, sag.
The rest of the riders were fun to hang around with (generally, usually).
Some notes for the riders on the second tour: Cold Pop is out of business; the Hot Springs pool hasn't been cleaned in six years; the mountains are the same as when the club last did this route in 2002. Katy and I on the tandem (and Danny tucked in drafting) had a maximum speed of 47 mph and change.
Some of the old people are saying it might be their last loop tour; with our kids getting their own lives, this might be the last one the whole Ahlvin family does together. It was a great ride.
This year’s tour was characterized by excellent weather; a severe T-storm almost blew the Eureka tents down the first night, after that it was beautiful; nights down to the 30's in the mountains and 50's in the desert; cool mornings; hot afternoons into the 80's; 100 on the last day into Pendleton. We used all our clothes except the rain gear.
The kids did great. They didn't have much time to train so they sagged; Katy was on the tandem with me; Benny and Danny were on their own bikes, relatively unloaded; Ted was on my cross bike cause it had the lowest gears (with a compact-34x27). Ted is uncoordinated and didn't learn to ride as a kid. He doubled his total bicycling time on this ride and only crashed the first three days in a row, (no blood, no foul). He was slowest (of the Ahlvins) up all the hills, but did EFI. I was nervous about him descending but stationed one of the boys behind him and he did OK. He did ride over a snake when he couldn't dodge it like the rest of the guys in the paceline. By the last day he could hang in a paceline with the tandem in front; we averaged >18mph into Pendleton despite a mountain and headwind. For the other kids it was a vacation, for Teddy it was a huge accomplishment.
Linda drove the sag wagon (Element with rocket launcher) because it was a chance to share a family vacation. She did well, but it's a pretty boring job. She finished "Great Expectations", 1000 pages of fine print, while she was sagging. She enjoys cooking and camping and since all our stuff was allocated to our own car she brought a camp kitchen, including a Dutch Oven. If you're going to sag, sag.
The rest of the riders were fun to hang around with (generally, usually).
Some notes for the riders on the second tour: Cold Pop is out of business; the Hot Springs pool hasn't been cleaned in six years; the mountains are the same as when the club last did this route in 2002. Katy and I on the tandem (and Danny tucked in drafting) had a maximum speed of 47 mph and change.
Some of the old people are saying it might be their last loop tour; with our kids getting their own lives, this might be the last one the whole Ahlvin family does together. It was a great ride.
Monday, June 16, 2008
SIR Four Passes 600K
The Seattle International Randonnoeur’s Four Passes 600K has been covered by John Kramer in his blog at http://randobiker.blogspot.com/2008/06/four-passes-ride-report.html
Here’s my report on the ride and some reflections about bicycling and the price of gas. On the way up Kramer was dozing in the backseat and Dave and I were talking about the implications of $4, then $6 then $8 gasoline. For Yuppie bike riders like us, it doesn’t look too bad. We both commute alternatively to our lucrative jobs. I can go a week and only use the car on the weekend to drive to a brevet or race. For me, the personal impact will be a significant impact in a very small percentage of my cash flow. If I can afford expensive bikes for my hobby/lifestyle, I can afford to spend more for gas to drive to an event. Perhaps there’d be a little more push to carpool to the races and brevets, but not real suffering.
A bigger positive personal impact will be getting some of the yahoos off the roads. As I’ve extended my distance cycling ability I’ve ended up riding more in the rural/urban transition zones. This year I’ve ridden a couple of times into and across Portland and in the exurbs of Seattle and have noticed a lot more jerks. There seem to be a lot of angry twenty-somethings in loud jacked up pickup trucks on the road. Both Dave and I commented on how much more aggressive drivers get as you get closer to the urban areas. Maybe it’s that they have less time to spare for courtesy, or maybe the time in traffic makes them perpetually angry. The biker’s answer to them as they roar by and shout “get off the road” is a silent “just wait for $8 a gallon gasoline, you’ll be walking.”
The Four Passes 600K was epic. A steep climb after the start spread out the group and then Dave got a flat. I stayed with him to help fix it and Kramer kept rolling in anticipation of hills to come. As we fixed the flat (twice) the balance of the riders rolled past us. The flat pushed us all the way to the back of the group. An hour into the ride we were DFL. Then the rain started. We slowly caught the slower riders and rolled back up toward the middle of the stream. The flat let us ride with and chat with some riders we don’t often see on a ride. After a long chase we finally caught Kramer and rolled with him for the rest of the ride. The three of us were using Perpetuum liquid food, so our control and food stops were very short and we passed groups of Randos at every control. Steven’s pass was a steady climb in rain and increasing wind. My new booties didn’t pass the test. At the top I put on all my clothes but the first part of the descent was still very cold. We rolled out on the Wenatchee River with a tailwind and patches of blue sky. The weather warmed up as we headed east along the roaring river. The high water made a great show and we rolled along easily taking pictures and videos. Somebody said it was like vicarious whitewater rafting.
Blewett was a long steady uphill, not too steep. The descent was cool in the shade.
We turned towards Ellensburg and out of the trees and the wind took over as the central character of the ride. We had a 35 mph tail-cross wind with gusts to 45. It was a wild ride, with us feeling every upwind detail of the terrain. We were able to coast uphill at 20mph.
Eventually, we turned the corner and headed south with a strong crosswind. It wasn’t too bad because we entered the scenic Yakima River Canyon. It was early evening with long shadows as we rolled along the river, sheltered by the wind. The road climbed up the canyon wall a couple of spots and we were halfway up the wall when we startled a Golden Eagle along the side of the road. We were only twenty feet away as he swooped out over the canyon to get some flying speed and then hooked back across the road about 25 yards ahead of us. He was angling across the road so it was easy to see that his wingspan was about a lane. He landed back on the sidehill above us and immediately disappeared in the brush.
After we exited the canyon, we set up for night riding and turned the corner back east. The wind was still strong and gusty but now it was a headwind as we climbed the approach to White Pass. Slow progress as we calculated and recalculated our arrival time. We refueled at the very welcome “secret” control and eventually reached the overnight stop before 2 AM. We had food, showers, three hours of sleep in real beds and were ready to finish the climb up White Pass at 6AM. It was a brilliant cool morning and a wonderful climb to the pass.
The descent was steep, fast and cold. Hot coffee and blankets at the control allowed us to get warm again before the uphill roll to the base of Cayuse. The day was getting warmer, so I stripped down to just shorts and a jersey for the climb. It was the last pass and I was feeling good so I pushed hard and caught and passed about eight Randos on the climb. Several had been keeping a constant gap on us since the start, but there were also a few that were ahead of us because they’d skipped sleeping the night before. That’s the hard way to make time. At the top I put all my clothes back on for the descent, regrouped with Kramer and Dave and then we bombed down the hill. It’s the last portion of the Ramrod course, so the descent was familiar and so was the afternoon headwind. We kept the stops short at the last couple of controls and collected or passed other Randos at each one. The last portion of the ride featured another flat, caused by a roofing nail through one of my Panaracer Pasela Tourguards. They’re robust to glass and rocks, but the nail was too much. The last portion through Redmond and Issaquah was another reminder about how great it is to ride far away from cities. We pulled in at quarter to five in the afternoon, 35 hours and 45 minutes after the start. A great ride: enough suffering in the rain on the first day, the wind overnight and the 20K feet of climbing to make it an epic; enough sleep to keep it safe; beautiful scenery and good riding companions.
We grabbed a bite to eat and piled into Dave’s car for the drive back south. On the way back, Kramer talked about the impact his social worker wife sees of the higher gasoline prices on the rural poor. It’s a real hardship for people without much income and will cause them to make hard decisions, between food and travel and perhaps giving up their roots in the land.
At dinner tonight I discussed this with Linda and a couple of my sons, including the economics major. In Europe, particularly Spain (where we lived from ’95 to ’98) they’ve had $8/gallon gas for a long time, coupled with below replacement birth rates. There was news in the Spanish paper from time to time when services were withdrawn from villages that had slipped below the economically viable threshold. In Spain, it was a government decision to make a town into a ghost town. While bicycle touring across northern Spain a few years ago, I rode through several depopulated towns. I’ve also been to some ghost towns in the US, depopulated by economic changes. In the US, economic forces like $8/gallon gas will cause gradual declines, and individuals will each have to make their own decision when to move to a more economically sustainable place. The value of transport is changing relative to the cost of labor, and the economy will drive people to make hard decisions.
It’ll be wrenching and difficult for people to change, but in the end we’ll have higher density which will (the optimistic view) lead to more social connections. Alternative travel (walking and bicycling) will reduce obesity and be a natural fitness program. Hopefully there will be fewer jerks and more bicyclists on the road. But there will be ghost towns.
Here’s my report on the ride and some reflections about bicycling and the price of gas. On the way up Kramer was dozing in the backseat and Dave and I were talking about the implications of $4, then $6 then $8 gasoline. For Yuppie bike riders like us, it doesn’t look too bad. We both commute alternatively to our lucrative jobs. I can go a week and only use the car on the weekend to drive to a brevet or race. For me, the personal impact will be a significant impact in a very small percentage of my cash flow. If I can afford expensive bikes for my hobby/lifestyle, I can afford to spend more for gas to drive to an event. Perhaps there’d be a little more push to carpool to the races and brevets, but not real suffering.
A bigger positive personal impact will be getting some of the yahoos off the roads. As I’ve extended my distance cycling ability I’ve ended up riding more in the rural/urban transition zones. This year I’ve ridden a couple of times into and across Portland and in the exurbs of Seattle and have noticed a lot more jerks. There seem to be a lot of angry twenty-somethings in loud jacked up pickup trucks on the road. Both Dave and I commented on how much more aggressive drivers get as you get closer to the urban areas. Maybe it’s that they have less time to spare for courtesy, or maybe the time in traffic makes them perpetually angry. The biker’s answer to them as they roar by and shout “get off the road” is a silent “just wait for $8 a gallon gasoline, you’ll be walking.”
The Four Passes 600K was epic. A steep climb after the start spread out the group and then Dave got a flat. I stayed with him to help fix it and Kramer kept rolling in anticipation of hills to come. As we fixed the flat (twice) the balance of the riders rolled past us. The flat pushed us all the way to the back of the group. An hour into the ride we were DFL. Then the rain started. We slowly caught the slower riders and rolled back up toward the middle of the stream. The flat let us ride with and chat with some riders we don’t often see on a ride. After a long chase we finally caught Kramer and rolled with him for the rest of the ride. The three of us were using Perpetuum liquid food, so our control and food stops were very short and we passed groups of Randos at every control. Steven’s pass was a steady climb in rain and increasing wind. My new booties didn’t pass the test. At the top I put on all my clothes but the first part of the descent was still very cold. We rolled out on the Wenatchee River with a tailwind and patches of blue sky. The weather warmed up as we headed east along the roaring river. The high water made a great show and we rolled along easily taking pictures and videos. Somebody said it was like vicarious whitewater rafting.
Blewett was a long steady uphill, not too steep. The descent was cool in the shade.
We turned towards Ellensburg and out of the trees and the wind took over as the central character of the ride. We had a 35 mph tail-cross wind with gusts to 45. It was a wild ride, with us feeling every upwind detail of the terrain. We were able to coast uphill at 20mph.
Eventually, we turned the corner and headed south with a strong crosswind. It wasn’t too bad because we entered the scenic Yakima River Canyon. It was early evening with long shadows as we rolled along the river, sheltered by the wind. The road climbed up the canyon wall a couple of spots and we were halfway up the wall when we startled a Golden Eagle along the side of the road. We were only twenty feet away as he swooped out over the canyon to get some flying speed and then hooked back across the road about 25 yards ahead of us. He was angling across the road so it was easy to see that his wingspan was about a lane. He landed back on the sidehill above us and immediately disappeared in the brush.
After we exited the canyon, we set up for night riding and turned the corner back east. The wind was still strong and gusty but now it was a headwind as we climbed the approach to White Pass. Slow progress as we calculated and recalculated our arrival time. We refueled at the very welcome “secret” control and eventually reached the overnight stop before 2 AM. We had food, showers, three hours of sleep in real beds and were ready to finish the climb up White Pass at 6AM. It was a brilliant cool morning and a wonderful climb to the pass.
The descent was steep, fast and cold. Hot coffee and blankets at the control allowed us to get warm again before the uphill roll to the base of Cayuse. The day was getting warmer, so I stripped down to just shorts and a jersey for the climb. It was the last pass and I was feeling good so I pushed hard and caught and passed about eight Randos on the climb. Several had been keeping a constant gap on us since the start, but there were also a few that were ahead of us because they’d skipped sleeping the night before. That’s the hard way to make time. At the top I put all my clothes back on for the descent, regrouped with Kramer and Dave and then we bombed down the hill. It’s the last portion of the Ramrod course, so the descent was familiar and so was the afternoon headwind. We kept the stops short at the last couple of controls and collected or passed other Randos at each one. The last portion of the ride featured another flat, caused by a roofing nail through one of my Panaracer Pasela Tourguards. They’re robust to glass and rocks, but the nail was too much. The last portion through Redmond and Issaquah was another reminder about how great it is to ride far away from cities. We pulled in at quarter to five in the afternoon, 35 hours and 45 minutes after the start. A great ride: enough suffering in the rain on the first day, the wind overnight and the 20K feet of climbing to make it an epic; enough sleep to keep it safe; beautiful scenery and good riding companions.
We grabbed a bite to eat and piled into Dave’s car for the drive back south. On the way back, Kramer talked about the impact his social worker wife sees of the higher gasoline prices on the rural poor. It’s a real hardship for people without much income and will cause them to make hard decisions, between food and travel and perhaps giving up their roots in the land.
At dinner tonight I discussed this with Linda and a couple of my sons, including the economics major. In Europe, particularly Spain (where we lived from ’95 to ’98) they’ve had $8/gallon gas for a long time, coupled with below replacement birth rates. There was news in the Spanish paper from time to time when services were withdrawn from villages that had slipped below the economically viable threshold. In Spain, it was a government decision to make a town into a ghost town. While bicycle touring across northern Spain a few years ago, I rode through several depopulated towns. I’ve also been to some ghost towns in the US, depopulated by economic changes. In the US, economic forces like $8/gallon gas will cause gradual declines, and individuals will each have to make their own decision when to move to a more economically sustainable place. The value of transport is changing relative to the cost of labor, and the economy will drive people to make hard decisions.
It’ll be wrenching and difficult for people to change, but in the end we’ll have higher density which will (the optimistic view) lead to more social connections. Alternative travel (walking and bicycling) will reduce obesity and be a natural fitness program. Hopefully there will be fewer jerks and more bicyclists on the road. But there will be ghost towns.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Banana Belt Race Report
The Banana Belt race series finished on Sunday. BB#1 was the first hilly race of the season, and it was a conservative and defensive race. Four pretty easy laps then a windup on the last hill followed by a downhill sprint. My fitness was good enough to stay with the group to the end, but not good enough to contest the sprint. I finished 20th. All in all a boring race. It didn’t even really test my strengths of endurance, just my weakness of sprinting.
For BB#2, I worked out a tentative plan with Matt to attack after 3 and a half laps and open up the field to launch him for a long jump. It was a harder race from the start, and I did three or four attacks at the end, which burned me out before the final climb. I finished 28th. The tactics were not successful because the field was too fresh at the end, so Matt’s long jump didn’t work. It was a more interesting and fun race and more of a workout.
For BB#3, we included more allies in a new plan. I planned to keep the effort level high for the first lap and three quarters then launch a series of attacks to set up a break by Matt, Greg and a couple of other guys up the last big hill before the finish, with two laps to go. I was sacrificing my chances at the finish in order to enable a break by my teammate and allies. The plan worked perfectly. At the start I went to the front and pushed the pace up immediately. When other people pulled through I’d let them, but if they dropped the pace to the point where people could talk, I’d go back to the front and push the pace up again. I knew I could hold a TT effort for an hour, so I used my HR monitor to keep my effort at that level, not giving the field a chance to recover on the downhill sections. I’d planned to make my first attack from four wheels back immediately after the S turns onto the dam. On all the previous races, and the first lap on this race the group got strung out on the downhill and sharp corner onto the dam and then regrouped and ate and drank on the dam, the only level section of the whole course. I was in a perfect position on the downhill, and through the s turns, and just as the leaders sat up I attacked. I pushed the pace up over 30 on the dam, my teammate Pete took a short pull, and then I sat up to recover slightly on the corner off the dam. I let the Peleton catch me, slid back about 5 wheels, moved to the shoulder, got an ally and attacked again. It was a slight uphill now, and they caught me again after a 30 second effort. I drifted back slightly on the steeper portion of the hill and then when the pace slackened over the top I moved to the front for the downhill and around the corner with the bridge. It was the lead in to the last steep hill, so I kept the pace high downhill and attacked up the hill. I knew this was my last attack, so I went all out. Matt told me later that the pack went wild with this attack, every man for himself trying to catch me up the hill. I went too hard to sustain the effort all the way to the top, so I drifted toward the shoulder as the Peleton started to swallow me up. I was on the white line as Matt and Greg started their breakaway on the shoulder from 10 wheels back. Everything had gone exactly according to the plan up to this point, but Matt grazed my handlebar as he was coming by. It turned my wheel 90 degrees, and I immediately went over the handlebars. I crashed hard on my hip, shoulder, elbow, knee and , with a half second delay my helmet smacked the ground. The group continued up the hill and out of sight as I picked myself up. No road rash because I was going uphill and slowing down, but plenty of bruises. As I slowly pedaled toward the finish line to DNF, somebody from our group that had been dropped (because I’d forced the pace) passed me and said “It sucks to be off the back doesn’t it?” I don’t think he recognized me.
The break I’d facilitated got away, but Matt wasn’t quite able to bridge up, thwarted by somebody who sat on his wheel and wouldn’t work. Our ally, Greg, stayed away and ended up with 3 and a half minutes on the field. The rest of the break members eventually got swallowed back up by the Peleton. Matt said the field was really tired by the end of the race, due to the high initial pace, the attacks and chasing the break. It was great to see the tactics pay off; it would have been even better if my sacrifice had been a few positions in the race and not a pound of flesh, and if my teammate would have been able to capitalize.
For BB#2, I worked out a tentative plan with Matt to attack after 3 and a half laps and open up the field to launch him for a long jump. It was a harder race from the start, and I did three or four attacks at the end, which burned me out before the final climb. I finished 28th. The tactics were not successful because the field was too fresh at the end, so Matt’s long jump didn’t work. It was a more interesting and fun race and more of a workout.
For BB#3, we included more allies in a new plan. I planned to keep the effort level high for the first lap and three quarters then launch a series of attacks to set up a break by Matt, Greg and a couple of other guys up the last big hill before the finish, with two laps to go. I was sacrificing my chances at the finish in order to enable a break by my teammate and allies. The plan worked perfectly. At the start I went to the front and pushed the pace up immediately. When other people pulled through I’d let them, but if they dropped the pace to the point where people could talk, I’d go back to the front and push the pace up again. I knew I could hold a TT effort for an hour, so I used my HR monitor to keep my effort at that level, not giving the field a chance to recover on the downhill sections. I’d planned to make my first attack from four wheels back immediately after the S turns onto the dam. On all the previous races, and the first lap on this race the group got strung out on the downhill and sharp corner onto the dam and then regrouped and ate and drank on the dam, the only level section of the whole course. I was in a perfect position on the downhill, and through the s turns, and just as the leaders sat up I attacked. I pushed the pace up over 30 on the dam, my teammate Pete took a short pull, and then I sat up to recover slightly on the corner off the dam. I let the Peleton catch me, slid back about 5 wheels, moved to the shoulder, got an ally and attacked again. It was a slight uphill now, and they caught me again after a 30 second effort. I drifted back slightly on the steeper portion of the hill and then when the pace slackened over the top I moved to the front for the downhill and around the corner with the bridge. It was the lead in to the last steep hill, so I kept the pace high downhill and attacked up the hill. I knew this was my last attack, so I went all out. Matt told me later that the pack went wild with this attack, every man for himself trying to catch me up the hill. I went too hard to sustain the effort all the way to the top, so I drifted toward the shoulder as the Peleton started to swallow me up. I was on the white line as Matt and Greg started their breakaway on the shoulder from 10 wheels back. Everything had gone exactly according to the plan up to this point, but Matt grazed my handlebar as he was coming by. It turned my wheel 90 degrees, and I immediately went over the handlebars. I crashed hard on my hip, shoulder, elbow, knee and , with a half second delay my helmet smacked the ground. The group continued up the hill and out of sight as I picked myself up. No road rash because I was going uphill and slowing down, but plenty of bruises. As I slowly pedaled toward the finish line to DNF, somebody from our group that had been dropped (because I’d forced the pace) passed me and said “It sucks to be off the back doesn’t it?” I don’t think he recognized me.
The break I’d facilitated got away, but Matt wasn’t quite able to bridge up, thwarted by somebody who sat on his wheel and wouldn’t work. Our ally, Greg, stayed away and ended up with 3 and a half minutes on the field. The rest of the break members eventually got swallowed back up by the Peleton. Matt said the field was really tired by the end of the race, due to the high initial pace, the attacks and chasing the break. It was great to see the tactics pay off; it would have been even better if my sacrifice had been a few positions in the race and not a pound of flesh, and if my teammate would have been able to capitalize.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Spring preview
Spring came for the President’s Day weekend. It’s been cool in the mornings and warmer in the afternoons. All the way up to 60 on Monday afternoon.
The warm weather was just in time for the Cherry Pie Road Race. It’s a drag to ride in the peleton in the rain, so the sunny weather for the first road race of the season was especially welcome. It was a beautiful day and I felt good about the way I rode the race. I’m feeling more comfortable moving around the pack and rode most of the race exactly where I wanted to be, in the front 10 racers. There’s a good view, odds are crashes will be behind you, if you have to fade on the hills you won’t get spit out the back. My fitness allowed me to stay there all the way up to the final climb, where I faded on the uphill finish to place 20th out of 60 in the Masters 4/5 field. An OK early season result, on a glorious day for a bike race.
Monday was an even better day for a ride. Linda and I stayed in McMinnville Sunday night and I was planning on riding home. Luckily the wind was from the Northeast (cross- tailwind) for the one way ride. I found a wonderful stretch of road from Lafayette Highway to Amity. The picture above is between Amity and Perrydale, another one of my favorite areas to ride. I made the decision in Monmouth to take go via King’s Valley for some bonus miles and hills. The direct route home from Monmouth would have been 20 miles and mostly flat; the long way ended up more miles and plenty of hills. I used the whole day up riding and by the time I got to Corvallis it was already starting to get cooler. The rain is expected back on Tuesday, for at least a few more weeks of Oregon winter.
The warm weather was just in time for the Cherry Pie Road Race. It’s a drag to ride in the peleton in the rain, so the sunny weather for the first road race of the season was especially welcome. It was a beautiful day and I felt good about the way I rode the race. I’m feeling more comfortable moving around the pack and rode most of the race exactly where I wanted to be, in the front 10 racers. There’s a good view, odds are crashes will be behind you, if you have to fade on the hills you won’t get spit out the back. My fitness allowed me to stay there all the way up to the final climb, where I faded on the uphill finish to place 20th out of 60 in the Masters 4/5 field. An OK early season result, on a glorious day for a bike race.
Monday was an even better day for a ride. Linda and I stayed in McMinnville Sunday night and I was planning on riding home. Luckily the wind was from the Northeast (cross- tailwind) for the one way ride. I found a wonderful stretch of road from Lafayette Highway to Amity. The picture above is between Amity and Perrydale, another one of my favorite areas to ride. I made the decision in Monmouth to take go via King’s Valley for some bonus miles and hills. The direct route home from Monmouth would have been 20 miles and mostly flat; the long way ended up more miles and plenty of hills. I used the whole day up riding and by the time I got to Corvallis it was already starting to get cooler. The rain is expected back on Tuesday, for at least a few more weeks of Oregon winter.
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