Cascade 1200 - 2008 (Photos!)
Photos from this ride are located here: http://www.jkassen.org/C1200photos08
Are we in Vermont?
I thanked Chip for the tips and soon we were moving again. All the riders stayed together for the first 40 miles. In this time I spoke to a bunch of people who seemed eager to talk about Emily’s various rides. (I think she was featured in the recent RUSA newsletter but neither of us has received our copy.) I enjoy talking about Emily and it’s great to hear she has so many fans. (For the record, we both completed PBP on fixed gear.) For this ride I was on my new bike Molly Stark whom is equipped with gears. While I like riding fixed, this season I wanted to see if gears really do make these rides faster and easier.
Looking Up
Looking Down
After a while of riding over rolling hills and lush green farmland (not unlike Vermont) I made it to the first control. I was bombarded with helpful volunteers who offered to take my bike, fill my bottles, and give me a place to sit. Coming from Boston, this type of support is a bit unnerving. I applied sunscreen while my bottles were filled, grabbed a cookie, and was off.
After the 100 mile mark things took a turn for the hot. I ride in New England where we’re used to riding in cold, wet weather. It gets warm in the summer, but never sweltering hot. I’m not a hot weather rider. Give me 60 degrees and mist and I’ll do just fine. I came to Seattle to discuss fenders and mudflaps, not ways to beat the heat.
After a while I met up with Mike and Mark Olsen. I met Mike the previous year in the hotel at PBP. Air France had "misplaced" his bike on the way over. This year Mike was on a bike tour when his riding partner decided to end the tour early. Mike then decided to ditch the bags and do a day-of registration for the Cascade. That’s impressive. Other highlights of the first day were riding with a couple from Texas. They do a long ride each weekend with a very active club out of Dallas. At least they would be accustomed to the heat.
At the second control (a grocery store) I bought a “festival Sandwich”. I’m not sure what was in that disgusting thing but I’d warn others from making the same bad purchase. This would be the only time in 780 miles I found something too revolting to eat and I ate a lot of nasty things in four days.
I also rode a bit with Nicole Honda. As it turns out about half of the C1200 riders were either riders or crew on the Furnace Creek 508 ultra race. I had not previous met Nicole but knew about her. She rode team RAAM with Janet Christiansen, one of Emily’s crewmembers the first year she did the 508. Small world, eh?
I don’t know how hot it got the first day but suffice it to say I was pretty uncomfortable. I pulled into the third control lacking any desire to eat. I tried to stomach a tuna sandwich and a slupree but didn’t get though much of either. The sun baked down on my back like a heat gun and I was wondering how I’d make it through the first day, let alone the first two. (I promised myself I’d make it to at least the second overnight before DNFing.)
Just when it seemed like I wouldn’t be able to take any more of the heat, I came across the first hidden control. Chip reassured me that just when things seemed like they couldn’t get any worst, the SIR crew would come out to save the day. Sure enough, there they were with tube socks filled with ice. Ice is nice. I ended up going though a dozen sock refills over the course of the ride.
As Chip had predicted, climbing White Pass was no trivial task. It isn’t nearly as steep as most of the climbs in New England, it just goes on and on. Including the SIR water stop on the way up, it took nearly 2 and 1/2 hours to make it to the summit – about 4000ft of climbing.
Climbing White Pass.
Mike, Mark, and Chris at the top.
Near the top I ran into two people I met last year in the Hotel at PBP – Chris Hanson and Mike. The three of us had made it to France while our bikes of bags did not. It’s strange to think that out of the 600 Americans at PBP, the three of us would meet a year later on the top of a west coast mountain pass. We rode to the last control of the day and were treated to some delicious soup while the SIR volunteers gave us the best VIP treatment I could imagine.
I left the control alone, but quickly decided to stop and wait for others as the prospect of riding through the dark Cascade woods wasn’t sitting well with me. A group of five riders soon appeared and was traveling at record speeds. In the next 30 miles I found out just how under geared I was. I would be spinning fast in my 48 x 13 gear and yet I’d still have a hard time keeping up. With a few miles to the control I gave up and just rode at my own speed. Thanks for the lift, guys! This was not the last time I would find myself maxing out my gearing on this ride.
Nearing the control, I passed a number of identical huge signs with the word “FRUIT”. I arrived at the control shortly after 11pm -- 225 miles from the start. The control was huge but orderly. Some SIR folks had set up an outdoor photo studio and I got my picture taken. I ate some delicious lasagna and went to sleep with the goal of setting off real early to beat the heat. I was so concerned about getting out in time that I didn't even change my cloths this night.
Day 2
The first control of the day was half way up a mountain pass and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the climb in the cool early morning air. As it turned out, I was the forth rider in. I took a pass on the coffee, used the bathroom, and headed off. My plan was to go 100 miles to the second control before it got too hot. Then, I figured, I’d have most of the day to bike the remaining 100 "easy" miles to the second overnight.
As I descended the mountain in the morning light I could now see that I was in desert. The pine trees had been replaced with brush and a whole lot of fruit trees. No shade to be found. With the shaved rolling hills I felt like I was in a huge model train set complete with a few miniature trees and plastic rivers. Thanks to the miracle of irrigation, this whole region is home to apple & cherry trees, grapes, berries, and a whole lot of wheat and barley. We don’t have the huge water troughs and irrigation systems in New England that they have out west. Riding the C1200 gave me a lot of time to think about environmental and agricultural policy.
The Desert Begins
Think Irrigation
This is my first year riding with a GPS. Each day it helpfully bypass a few turns and route me in such a way as to take me off the official route. (I think this is related to my older mapsets and the fact I didn’t program this route myself.) I always caught these errors in time but then I’d be left to trying to figure where exactly to go. With 15 miles to the control discovered a GPS error and was on my own to figure out which way to turn at a fork in the road. As luck would have it a local cyclist was nearby waiting for someone else in his group. He didn’t know which way I should go but pointed up a big hill and told me four people just rode up that way. I thank him and started up this steep hill cut diagonal into a mountain. By the time I reached the top I could see the whole valley. I could also see four local cyclists fixing a flat by the side of the road. Perhaps I wasn’t on the route after all. I spent the next 20 minutes looking at my maps and cue sheets before realizing I had taken the wrong turn at the bottom of the hill and would need to ride back down the hill. Oh well. At least the view was nice.
Empty Apple Crates.
Back at the fork I ran into Chris and a woman named Carol Bell. As it turned out I would end up riding with these two for nearly the next 650 miles. Carol is an interesting woman originally from New Zealand who now resides in the Baltimore. I’ve got to say I really enjoyed talking to Chris and Carol and they rode a pace that was slightly faster then I would go alone but not too fast that I couldn’t keep up. They had really good, positive attitudes and were not ones to complain about their bikes or the route or any other topics riders sometimes dwell on. (I think Carol’s “No Whining” button on her saddlebag was a good indication of her take on these rides.) I should say that while I’ve ridden with a lot of people in club rides and on Brevets, very few have I been able to enjoy riding with for as long as Carol and Chris. Thanks guys!
We pulled into the second control, a shopping center, a little before noon. We spent a while snacking and filling up bottles and ice socks before heading off down a bike path and back out into the desert. At first our group was fairly large but soon it was just the three of us and 50 miles of straight desert to get through. This stretch was one of the low points of the ride. The temperature was above 110 degrees. The air was humid with the thick, smelly irrigation. This might be the desert but with non-stop irrigation the roads next to the fields were indeed humid. There was neither a tree nor a cloud in sight. Just a long hot rode under the unrelenting sun.
110 Degrees. No Trees.
It took most of the afternoon but we finally got through this stretch. Just leaving this miserable road picked up my spirits. We stopped at another SIR impromptu water stop just outside of the famous Hanford Nuclear Site. After a short break we left to climb the shortest and steepest hill of the ride, just past the irradiated Columbia River. Watching the ease at which Carol and Chris climbed with their triples was making me rethink my double. I started bonking shortly after the climb, but managed to catch up and we rode together into the last control of the day – a gas station in a small town of mostly migrant farm workers.
Typical SIR Control. More volunteers then riders.
Each day the 30 miles from the last control to the overnight were particularity enjoyable. Once the sun started to set it would cool off a bit. We saw what looked like a storm in the distance. (It brought heavy winds but no rain.) For the past several hours my knees had been starting to hurt and it finally dawned on me that my seatpost had been slipping. (As it turns out the excessive heat had caused several previously tight joints to loosen. This isn’t something we think about in Boston.) A low saddle is what caused most of my PBP pain – an error I was not about to make again. Carol and Chris politely waited for me while I fixed the problem. In retrospect I was foolish for not raising the saddle the instant I started getting knee pain.
7:30pm on Sunday.
The last 10 miles to the control were not as fun as I started to bonk and just wanted to be off the bike. (I separated with Carol and Chris briefly when they stopped to knock on someone’s door and ask for water.) We rolled into the overnight control at 10:32pm. I have to thank Carol for my early arrival – she really pushed us through controls quickly. Had I spent more time loafing and snacking I would have gotten much less needed sleep.
Day 3
We awoke at 3am and were out the door a little after 4pm. The sun was already rising as we rode through the town of Quincy where we stopped for water and breakfast snacks. I ended up buying two mysterious white bags marked “sausage”. These turned out to be some sort of pork/egg/filler composite that was surprisingly delicious. I must have been on a serious protein deficit by this point.
As we were leaving town we passed a drive-in theater as well as several motels advertising “Theme Rooms”. I guess they like their themes around these parts. (I wonder if the “theme” is a king sized bed and HBO….)
We then entered a cavern-rich region formed by waterfalls in the last ice age. This relaxing 15 mile stretch was another highlight of the ride. Instead of farms we passed impressive volcanic rock faces dotted with caves. We rode by aquifer lakes with banks covered in white salt deposits. In many ways this was even more spectacular then Death Valley. We climbed a moderate hill where SIR had setup a secrete control/breakfast in the parking lot of the nature center. We could see the whole spectacular canyon from here.
Aquifer Valley
Some of the nice parts of the ride.
After leaving the control we had a fairly long, hot climb before reaching a long plateau with an elevation of around 2500ft. Although the temperature was the same as previous days it didn’t feel nearly as bad at this elevation. The irrigated fruit trees of the previous day were replaced with gently rolling wheat and barley fields that stretched to the horizon. We made good time on this stretch and it didn’t seem to take long before we made it to the midpoint control at the Farmer Community center. I noticed a message written on the outhouse wall – “Wind Chill –10. Had to spend night here.” The date on this message was February of 1993. Riding through 100-degree weather it’s hard to image it getting so cold.
Chris on the Plateau.
Approaching the Farmer Control.
From Farmer we rode past vast uncultivated fields of brush before finally leaving the plateau with a long descent into a hot valley. At lower elevations, the heat was back in force. We rode though some very poor towns before finally reaching the last manned control in Malott. We were too early for soup and sandwiches and everyone was eager to attack Loup Loup pass so we didn’t stick around long. From Malott we had a short 10 mile ride to the “bonus” control that ensures the 1000k riders complete a full 1000k before the sleep stop that evening.
Loup Loup pass might have been the most difficult mountain pass of the ride – the first mile or two is fairly steep and we were climbing in the peak of the afternoon heat. Chris and Carol were much quicker then me and I was just as happy to climb alone at my own pace. My spirits improved as I started seeing pines – soon I’d be back in the woods and out of scorching desert. I climbed slow but steadily and eventually made it to the summit. The number of pine trees scorched by lighting at the top was pretty impressive.
From here I had a nice long 8 mile, 35mph decent into the valley between the lush green mountains. I passed so many deer grazing by the side of the road I might have well been in New Jersey. After a while I made it to a resort town complete with yuppie tourists eating at the many outdoor restaurants. It’s hard to miss the disparity between this yuppie town and the impoverished, boarded up migrant villages just twenty miles away over on the other side of the mountain.
I was tired and ready to be done with the ride but I still had 15 more miles to ride. Nothing is worst then thinking you're closer to the control then you really are. I put on my knock-off mp3 sunglasses, turned to a Kropokins album, and rode off in the twilight. I would occasionally look behind me to see some pretty impressive bolts of lighting hitting the top of the surrounding hills. I felt bad for the riders behind me on Loup Loup and was thankful that Carol was so insistent that we not waste time at the controls. I later found this stretch is gradually uphill which explains why I found myself struggling to keep up a good pace. With less then a mile to go the lightning storm caught up with me and suddenly bolts of lighting seemed to be hitting ground everywhere around me. I was not about to struck by lightning with one mile to go and without thinking I found myself sprinting to the end. I arrived at the final control at the respectable time of 9:58pm. A 1000k in less then 64h – my best time ever!
The Mazama overnight was a cabin retreat nestled in the woods – no more high school gyms. I seemed to have arrived minutes after the power had gone out and everyone wandered around with their headlights. The power came back on while I was in the middle of my shower and I was momentarily startled when I looked down to see something wrapped around my leg – Turns out I had forgotten to take off my reflective leg band in the dark. We agreed to wake at 4:30am to be on the road before 6am. We were done with our 1000k but we still had 260k to get back to Monroe.
Day 4
The last day was relaxed. With our “real” ride over, all that mattered was that we made it back to Monroe in one piece. Technically we were on a permanent but no one was too concerned about the time. The day started with a fairly long, gradual climb over Washington Pass. This is the quintessential west coast mountain pass – Pine trees, snow capped rocky mountains, and twisty switchbacks carved into the side of the hill. This is the sort of stuff I came out to Washington and thankfully I was felt good enough to really enjoy it.
Early Morning in the Cascades - The green returns.
Notice the twisty switchback road.
I was still riding with Chris and Carol and now a nice woman named Isabelle Drake joined our group. Carol had been raving about Isabelle’s ultra-quick control stops for days but with the 1000k over she was now taking it easy with us. (Isabelle is another fc508 veteran making Carol the only one of us who had not crewed or ridden that ride.) Isabelle had some great stories and was fun to ride with.
The scenery got better and better as we rode past green mountain lakes, lush summer foliage, and a bunch of power generating dams. This was yet another high point of ride. The weather was perfect and the scenery was great. I ride Bevets for mornings like this. Of course after a while we found ourselves headed into a headwind strong enough to make us work hard to pedal down what otherwise would be a easy decent. We went into paceline formation (a rarity for me) and slowly pushed out the miles.
As we approached the final control, a mere 20 miles from the finish, my companions started discussing the need to get through this control (a McDonalds/Gas Station) as quick as humanly possible. I probably wouldn’t have rushed had I been alone but I was happy to comply. In, out, and away we went.
The last 20 miles reminded me of home with their twisty rolling and sharp turns. I might have well been riding through the western suburbs of Boston. We still had plenty of sunlight and the weather was cool. A perfect way to end a ride. We arrived back at the hotel at 7:57pm for a total time of 14h. Had we been riding the C1200 our times would have been around 85h, which would include a whopping 10 hours of sleep. If only PBP could have gone this well.
Closing
The four of us went out to dinner that night and Chris and I shared a room back at the Best Western. It’s hard to believe that I found so many friendly, strong cyclists to ride with for such a long time. When planning for the ride I had expected to ride alone for most of the trip, as I often do when Emily and I don’t ride together.
My bike Molly Stark preformed perfectly and I never found myself wishing I had different geometry. I finished nearly pain-free and felt better after 780 miles then I do after a local century. The SIR volunteers went above and beyond what was expected and at times it felt more like an expensive supported cycling tour then a brevet.
I have a hard time believing that this is the most challenging 1200 in North America. BMB packs a bigger punch. I think the hardest parts of the C1200 were still easier then any of the Boston Brevet Series rides. Even if the total climbing is higher then others, there were few steep climbs and the most challenging aspect was the extreme weather and aggressive drivers. The scenery was indeed diverse and gorgeous but I’m still partial to the views of New England.
One thing that marked this ride was how fast I went in comparison to most of my previous rides. This is the first time I wasn’t towards the back and I can now say with certainty that it’s easier to ride fast than to ride slow. My thoughts went out to the strong riders further back who would end up doing much more work and sleeping much less than myself. I’ve also come to the conclusion that geared bikes really are faster for longer rides. As much as I enjoy riding fixed, being able to ride fast enough to stay in the company of people such as Carol and Chris is worth the hassle of shifting and slower speeds up the hills.
I’d like to thank the ride organizers for putting on an excellent ride and hope to be back again someday. I especially want to thank Bill Dussler for his generous hospitality after the ride and Maile from Maryland who I chatted with after the ride at Bill's house. As for now, let the London-Edinburgh-London preparation begin!
The view from Bill's deck. If only Boston was so nice.
Note - The first 20 or so photos are blurry but the more interesting photos are toward the end anyway. You can click on the images on this page to see a larger copy.
A month ago I impulsively signed up to ride the Cascade 1000. I needed a 1000k ride to round out my R5000 and the dates matched up perfectly with when Emily was going to be gone teaching. Shortly after signing up I started reading about how hot and hard this ride could possibly be. When I asked about this on the mailing lists I was reassured by many people that this year was unseasonably cool – so cold it was still snowing on the mountain passes. “You’ll have nothing to worry about,” they said. Besides, I was riding the easy 1000k, not the difficult full 1200.
A few weeks before the ride I unexpectedly picked up a lot of freelance editing. I became so busy that I had to stop riding on the weekends and even gave up sleeping for a few days. I was a wreck. Not the best way to prepare for any ride, let alone the Cascade 1200.
In the days before the start the organizers were still frantically rerouting the route to avoid roads closed due to snow and construction. They posted the revised 1000k route and control closing times and I suddenly realized the 1000k rides would have even less time to get through a majority of the ride. Even after the 600 mile finish we’d still have to ride another 170 miles to get back to Monroe. Why did I get myself into this?
I arrived in Seattle a few days early and spent some time with my mother in Vancouver, BC. She tried hard to talk me out of doing the ride, going as far as to offer to pay me the entry fee so I wouldn’t lose the cash. Tempting as it sounds, I came to Washington to ride. I didn’t know if I’d make it to the finish but at least I could make it to the start.
Day 1
Around 65 riders left the parking lot of the hotel on Saturday at the late hour of 6am. All 65 riders were promptly stopped a few minutes later as we waited for a long freight train to cross. The other rider from Boston, Charles “Chip” Coldwell, pulled up beside me to chat. Chip is a very strong rider, part of the Melinda Lyon crowd. I don’t ride with Chip – I watch him depart the start hear about his ride when I return. Chip is a C1200 veteran and gave me the lowdown on the days to come. “Save all your energy for White Pass at mile 173. Nothing else matters but getting over that mountain,” Chip warned me.
Are we in Vermont?
I thanked Chip for the tips and soon we were moving again. All the riders stayed together for the first 40 miles. In this time I spoke to a bunch of people who seemed eager to talk about Emily’s various rides. (I think she was featured in the recent RUSA newsletter but neither of us has received our copy.) I enjoy talking about Emily and it’s great to hear she has so many fans. (For the record, we both completed PBP on fixed gear.) For this ride I was on my new bike Molly Stark whom is equipped with gears. While I like riding fixed, this season I wanted to see if gears really do make these rides faster and easier.
Looking Up
Looking Down
After a while of riding over rolling hills and lush green farmland (not unlike Vermont) I made it to the first control. I was bombarded with helpful volunteers who offered to take my bike, fill my bottles, and give me a place to sit. Coming from Boston, this type of support is a bit unnerving. I applied sunscreen while my bottles were filled, grabbed a cookie, and was off.
After the 100 mile mark things took a turn for the hot. I ride in New England where we’re used to riding in cold, wet weather. It gets warm in the summer, but never sweltering hot. I’m not a hot weather rider. Give me 60 degrees and mist and I’ll do just fine. I came to Seattle to discuss fenders and mudflaps, not ways to beat the heat.
After a while I met up with Mike and Mark Olsen. I met Mike the previous year in the hotel at PBP. Air France had "misplaced" his bike on the way over. This year Mike was on a bike tour when his riding partner decided to end the tour early. Mike then decided to ditch the bags and do a day-of registration for the Cascade. That’s impressive. Other highlights of the first day were riding with a couple from Texas. They do a long ride each weekend with a very active club out of Dallas. At least they would be accustomed to the heat.
At the second control (a grocery store) I bought a “festival Sandwich”. I’m not sure what was in that disgusting thing but I’d warn others from making the same bad purchase. This would be the only time in 780 miles I found something too revolting to eat and I ate a lot of nasty things in four days.
I also rode a bit with Nicole Honda. As it turns out about half of the C1200 riders were either riders or crew on the Furnace Creek 508 ultra race. I had not previous met Nicole but knew about her. She rode team RAAM with Janet Christiansen, one of Emily’s crewmembers the first year she did the 508. Small world, eh?
I don’t know how hot it got the first day but suffice it to say I was pretty uncomfortable. I pulled into the third control lacking any desire to eat. I tried to stomach a tuna sandwich and a slupree but didn’t get though much of either. The sun baked down on my back like a heat gun and I was wondering how I’d make it through the first day, let alone the first two. (I promised myself I’d make it to at least the second overnight before DNFing.)
Just when it seemed like I wouldn’t be able to take any more of the heat, I came across the first hidden control. Chip reassured me that just when things seemed like they couldn’t get any worst, the SIR crew would come out to save the day. Sure enough, there they were with tube socks filled with ice. Ice is nice. I ended up going though a dozen sock refills over the course of the ride.
As Chip had predicted, climbing White Pass was no trivial task. It isn’t nearly as steep as most of the climbs in New England, it just goes on and on. Including the SIR water stop on the way up, it took nearly 2 and 1/2 hours to make it to the summit – about 4000ft of climbing.
Climbing White Pass.
Mike, Mark, and Chris at the top.
Near the top I ran into two people I met last year in the Hotel at PBP – Chris Hanson and Mike. The three of us had made it to France while our bikes of bags did not. It’s strange to think that out of the 600 Americans at PBP, the three of us would meet a year later on the top of a west coast mountain pass. We rode to the last control of the day and were treated to some delicious soup while the SIR volunteers gave us the best VIP treatment I could imagine.
I left the control alone, but quickly decided to stop and wait for others as the prospect of riding through the dark Cascade woods wasn’t sitting well with me. A group of five riders soon appeared and was traveling at record speeds. In the next 30 miles I found out just how under geared I was. I would be spinning fast in my 48 x 13 gear and yet I’d still have a hard time keeping up. With a few miles to the control I gave up and just rode at my own speed. Thanks for the lift, guys! This was not the last time I would find myself maxing out my gearing on this ride.
Nearing the control, I passed a number of identical huge signs with the word “FRUIT”. I arrived at the control shortly after 11pm -- 225 miles from the start. The control was huge but orderly. Some SIR folks had set up an outdoor photo studio and I got my picture taken. I ate some delicious lasagna and went to sleep with the goal of setting off real early to beat the heat. I was so concerned about getting out in time that I didn't even change my cloths this night.
Day 2
The first control of the day was half way up a mountain pass and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the climb in the cool early morning air. As it turned out, I was the forth rider in. I took a pass on the coffee, used the bathroom, and headed off. My plan was to go 100 miles to the second control before it got too hot. Then, I figured, I’d have most of the day to bike the remaining 100 "easy" miles to the second overnight.
As I descended the mountain in the morning light I could now see that I was in desert. The pine trees had been replaced with brush and a whole lot of fruit trees. No shade to be found. With the shaved rolling hills I felt like I was in a huge model train set complete with a few miniature trees and plastic rivers. Thanks to the miracle of irrigation, this whole region is home to apple & cherry trees, grapes, berries, and a whole lot of wheat and barley. We don’t have the huge water troughs and irrigation systems in New England that they have out west. Riding the C1200 gave me a lot of time to think about environmental and agricultural policy.
The Desert Begins
Think Irrigation
This is my first year riding with a GPS. Each day it helpfully bypass a few turns and route me in such a way as to take me off the official route. (I think this is related to my older mapsets and the fact I didn’t program this route myself.) I always caught these errors in time but then I’d be left to trying to figure where exactly to go. With 15 miles to the control discovered a GPS error and was on my own to figure out which way to turn at a fork in the road. As luck would have it a local cyclist was nearby waiting for someone else in his group. He didn’t know which way I should go but pointed up a big hill and told me four people just rode up that way. I thank him and started up this steep hill cut diagonal into a mountain. By the time I reached the top I could see the whole valley. I could also see four local cyclists fixing a flat by the side of the road. Perhaps I wasn’t on the route after all. I spent the next 20 minutes looking at my maps and cue sheets before realizing I had taken the wrong turn at the bottom of the hill and would need to ride back down the hill. Oh well. At least the view was nice.
Empty Apple Crates.
Back at the fork I ran into Chris and a woman named Carol Bell. As it turned out I would end up riding with these two for nearly the next 650 miles. Carol is an interesting woman originally from New Zealand who now resides in the Baltimore. I’ve got to say I really enjoyed talking to Chris and Carol and they rode a pace that was slightly faster then I would go alone but not too fast that I couldn’t keep up. They had really good, positive attitudes and were not ones to complain about their bikes or the route or any other topics riders sometimes dwell on. (I think Carol’s “No Whining” button on her saddlebag was a good indication of her take on these rides.) I should say that while I’ve ridden with a lot of people in club rides and on Brevets, very few have I been able to enjoy riding with for as long as Carol and Chris. Thanks guys!
We pulled into the second control, a shopping center, a little before noon. We spent a while snacking and filling up bottles and ice socks before heading off down a bike path and back out into the desert. At first our group was fairly large but soon it was just the three of us and 50 miles of straight desert to get through. This stretch was one of the low points of the ride. The temperature was above 110 degrees. The air was humid with the thick, smelly irrigation. This might be the desert but with non-stop irrigation the roads next to the fields were indeed humid. There was neither a tree nor a cloud in sight. Just a long hot rode under the unrelenting sun.
110 Degrees. No Trees.
It took most of the afternoon but we finally got through this stretch. Just leaving this miserable road picked up my spirits. We stopped at another SIR impromptu water stop just outside of the famous Hanford Nuclear Site. After a short break we left to climb the shortest and steepest hill of the ride, just past the irradiated Columbia River. Watching the ease at which Carol and Chris climbed with their triples was making me rethink my double. I started bonking shortly after the climb, but managed to catch up and we rode together into the last control of the day – a gas station in a small town of mostly migrant farm workers.
Typical SIR Control. More volunteers then riders.
Each day the 30 miles from the last control to the overnight were particularity enjoyable. Once the sun started to set it would cool off a bit. We saw what looked like a storm in the distance. (It brought heavy winds but no rain.) For the past several hours my knees had been starting to hurt and it finally dawned on me that my seatpost had been slipping. (As it turns out the excessive heat had caused several previously tight joints to loosen. This isn’t something we think about in Boston.) A low saddle is what caused most of my PBP pain – an error I was not about to make again. Carol and Chris politely waited for me while I fixed the problem. In retrospect I was foolish for not raising the saddle the instant I started getting knee pain.
7:30pm on Sunday.
The last 10 miles to the control were not as fun as I started to bonk and just wanted to be off the bike. (I separated with Carol and Chris briefly when they stopped to knock on someone’s door and ask for water.) We rolled into the overnight control at 10:32pm. I have to thank Carol for my early arrival – she really pushed us through controls quickly. Had I spent more time loafing and snacking I would have gotten much less needed sleep.
Day 3
We awoke at 3am and were out the door a little after 4pm. The sun was already rising as we rode through the town of Quincy where we stopped for water and breakfast snacks. I ended up buying two mysterious white bags marked “sausage”. These turned out to be some sort of pork/egg/filler composite that was surprisingly delicious. I must have been on a serious protein deficit by this point.
As we were leaving town we passed a drive-in theater as well as several motels advertising “Theme Rooms”. I guess they like their themes around these parts. (I wonder if the “theme” is a king sized bed and HBO….)
We then entered a cavern-rich region formed by waterfalls in the last ice age. This relaxing 15 mile stretch was another highlight of the ride. Instead of farms we passed impressive volcanic rock faces dotted with caves. We rode by aquifer lakes with banks covered in white salt deposits. In many ways this was even more spectacular then Death Valley. We climbed a moderate hill where SIR had setup a secrete control/breakfast in the parking lot of the nature center. We could see the whole spectacular canyon from here.
Aquifer Valley
Some of the nice parts of the ride.
After leaving the control we had a fairly long, hot climb before reaching a long plateau with an elevation of around 2500ft. Although the temperature was the same as previous days it didn’t feel nearly as bad at this elevation. The irrigated fruit trees of the previous day were replaced with gently rolling wheat and barley fields that stretched to the horizon. We made good time on this stretch and it didn’t seem to take long before we made it to the midpoint control at the Farmer Community center. I noticed a message written on the outhouse wall – “Wind Chill –10. Had to spend night here.” The date on this message was February of 1993. Riding through 100-degree weather it’s hard to image it getting so cold.
Chris on the Plateau.
Approaching the Farmer Control.
From Farmer we rode past vast uncultivated fields of brush before finally leaving the plateau with a long descent into a hot valley. At lower elevations, the heat was back in force. We rode though some very poor towns before finally reaching the last manned control in Malott. We were too early for soup and sandwiches and everyone was eager to attack Loup Loup pass so we didn’t stick around long. From Malott we had a short 10 mile ride to the “bonus” control that ensures the 1000k riders complete a full 1000k before the sleep stop that evening.
Loup Loup pass might have been the most difficult mountain pass of the ride – the first mile or two is fairly steep and we were climbing in the peak of the afternoon heat. Chris and Carol were much quicker then me and I was just as happy to climb alone at my own pace. My spirits improved as I started seeing pines – soon I’d be back in the woods and out of scorching desert. I climbed slow but steadily and eventually made it to the summit. The number of pine trees scorched by lighting at the top was pretty impressive.
From here I had a nice long 8 mile, 35mph decent into the valley between the lush green mountains. I passed so many deer grazing by the side of the road I might have well been in New Jersey. After a while I made it to a resort town complete with yuppie tourists eating at the many outdoor restaurants. It’s hard to miss the disparity between this yuppie town and the impoverished, boarded up migrant villages just twenty miles away over on the other side of the mountain.
I was tired and ready to be done with the ride but I still had 15 more miles to ride. Nothing is worst then thinking you're closer to the control then you really are. I put on my knock-off mp3 sunglasses, turned to a Kropokins album, and rode off in the twilight. I would occasionally look behind me to see some pretty impressive bolts of lighting hitting the top of the surrounding hills. I felt bad for the riders behind me on Loup Loup and was thankful that Carol was so insistent that we not waste time at the controls. I later found this stretch is gradually uphill which explains why I found myself struggling to keep up a good pace. With less then a mile to go the lightning storm caught up with me and suddenly bolts of lighting seemed to be hitting ground everywhere around me. I was not about to struck by lightning with one mile to go and without thinking I found myself sprinting to the end. I arrived at the final control at the respectable time of 9:58pm. A 1000k in less then 64h – my best time ever!
The Mazama overnight was a cabin retreat nestled in the woods – no more high school gyms. I seemed to have arrived minutes after the power had gone out and everyone wandered around with their headlights. The power came back on while I was in the middle of my shower and I was momentarily startled when I looked down to see something wrapped around my leg – Turns out I had forgotten to take off my reflective leg band in the dark. We agreed to wake at 4:30am to be on the road before 6am. We were done with our 1000k but we still had 260k to get back to Monroe.
Day 4
The last day was relaxed. With our “real” ride over, all that mattered was that we made it back to Monroe in one piece. Technically we were on a permanent but no one was too concerned about the time. The day started with a fairly long, gradual climb over Washington Pass. This is the quintessential west coast mountain pass – Pine trees, snow capped rocky mountains, and twisty switchbacks carved into the side of the hill. This is the sort of stuff I came out to Washington and thankfully I was felt good enough to really enjoy it.
Early Morning in the Cascades - The green returns.
Notice the twisty switchback road.
I was still riding with Chris and Carol and now a nice woman named Isabelle Drake joined our group. Carol had been raving about Isabelle’s ultra-quick control stops for days but with the 1000k over she was now taking it easy with us. (Isabelle is another fc508 veteran making Carol the only one of us who had not crewed or ridden that ride.) Isabelle had some great stories and was fun to ride with.
The scenery got better and better as we rode past green mountain lakes, lush summer foliage, and a bunch of power generating dams. This was yet another high point of ride. The weather was perfect and the scenery was great. I ride Bevets for mornings like this. Of course after a while we found ourselves headed into a headwind strong enough to make us work hard to pedal down what otherwise would be a easy decent. We went into paceline formation (a rarity for me) and slowly pushed out the miles.
As we approached the final control, a mere 20 miles from the finish, my companions started discussing the need to get through this control (a McDonalds/Gas Station) as quick as humanly possible. I probably wouldn’t have rushed had I been alone but I was happy to comply. In, out, and away we went.
The last 20 miles reminded me of home with their twisty rolling and sharp turns. I might have well been riding through the western suburbs of Boston. We still had plenty of sunlight and the weather was cool. A perfect way to end a ride. We arrived back at the hotel at 7:57pm for a total time of 14h. Had we been riding the C1200 our times would have been around 85h, which would include a whopping 10 hours of sleep. If only PBP could have gone this well.
Closing
The four of us went out to dinner that night and Chris and I shared a room back at the Best Western. It’s hard to believe that I found so many friendly, strong cyclists to ride with for such a long time. When planning for the ride I had expected to ride alone for most of the trip, as I often do when Emily and I don’t ride together.
My bike Molly Stark preformed perfectly and I never found myself wishing I had different geometry. I finished nearly pain-free and felt better after 780 miles then I do after a local century. The SIR volunteers went above and beyond what was expected and at times it felt more like an expensive supported cycling tour then a brevet.
I have a hard time believing that this is the most challenging 1200 in North America. BMB packs a bigger punch. I think the hardest parts of the C1200 were still easier then any of the Boston Brevet Series rides. Even if the total climbing is higher then others, there were few steep climbs and the most challenging aspect was the extreme weather and aggressive drivers. The scenery was indeed diverse and gorgeous but I’m still partial to the views of New England.
One thing that marked this ride was how fast I went in comparison to most of my previous rides. This is the first time I wasn’t towards the back and I can now say with certainty that it’s easier to ride fast than to ride slow. My thoughts went out to the strong riders further back who would end up doing much more work and sleeping much less than myself. I’ve also come to the conclusion that geared bikes really are faster for longer rides. As much as I enjoy riding fixed, being able to ride fast enough to stay in the company of people such as Carol and Chris is worth the hassle of shifting and slower speeds up the hills.
I’d like to thank the ride organizers for putting on an excellent ride and hope to be back again someday. I especially want to thank Bill Dussler for his generous hospitality after the ride and Maile from Maryland who I chatted with after the ride at Bill's house. As for now, let the London-Edinburgh-London preparation begin!
The view from Bill's deck. If only Boston was so nice.