Pioneer Spirit

One of the biggest rides put on by the Portland Wheelmen each year is the Pioneer Century on the first Saturday of June. Last year it was my first century ever - my previous longest ride being just shy of 80 miles. It was a breakthrough for me, a personal goal, and a very satisfying accomplishment. Plus it's a beautiful ride. Since that time I've tucked a couple more centuries under my belt, along with a 200K. I figured I'd celebrate the anniversary with a return.

I had some pre-ride preparation anxiety. After sunny and 80's a couple weeks ago, we've had some weirdness in the sky. Cool, showers, a big thunder/wind storm Thursday. Friday was forecast to clear but it never did and I rode home from work in the rain. I still didn't know Friday night which bike I'd ride (Nishiki with fenders or Poprad w/o). And I don't even want to talk about the multiple contingency clothes I laid out. And then there was my knee...

Saturday dawned cool and cloudy, a little damp. I decided to trust the forecast (clearing) and took the Poprad, dressed in light wool, and tossed in the cheap vinyl rainjacket just in case. Fortunately it never made it out of the car. I got to Canby about 6:45 and the parking lot was already busy - the course opened at 7:00 and while there were a number of loops folks could ride starting much later, most of the 100-mile riders like to get out there ASAP, including me.

I picked up my packet, futzed with my clothing some more - despite the gray clouds and occassional drops I was really trusting the forecast and ditched the tights and waterproof socks, opting for the new (happy birthday to me!) SS wool, shorts, and light windbreaker. It proved to be perfect. 

I left alone and rode alone for the first 10 miles, just warming up and enjoying the farm scenery. I got passed for a few fast folks, and then a paceline of not quite as fast folks  went around me and I decided to fall in. At one point there were 7 of us sharing pulls and this went on quite well for about 10 miles. One guy flatted so he and his partner dropped out. Then our lone woman dropped off as we entered Mollala, and finally, the big hill leading up to the first rest stop blew the rest of us apart. But it was fun zipping along in a train while it lasted. 

My knee started getting a little sore right at the beginning of the ride and I was anxious about that. This has had me really nervous recently. I have never, ever (knock on wood) had any knee issues. But this started up the last 20 miles or so of the RACC, and has nagged me for the last month or so. It's right on the surface and top of the right knee cap, and internet/self-diagnosis points to saddle position induced tendon strain. Of course it probably doesn't help that I adjusted my saddle height right before RACC, or that I went for a run the day after, or that I have ridden my bike 20 miles/day nearly every day since. But on the other hand, after a week or so it wasn't too tender and seemed to be getting better, and this last week I hardly noticed it at all. I figured if it really started bothering me I could pop a couple "vitamin I" for the pain and infamation, and if I needed to, bail after the first 55-mile loop. Fortunately, the pain never happened, and while I noticed it if I thought about it, I didn't really. A huge relief. But I also decided to be smart and skip the run on Sunday. 

The section of the ride from Mollala up Sawtel Road to the high point at Kokel Corner (1500 ft.) and back down Maple Grove is the best part of this ride if you like hills like I do. You have great views of the Willamette valley in a mix of farmland and forest - well, mini-forest as most of it is actually Christmas tree farms - and the road is smooth and the downhills eye-watering. 

The century ride is actually 2 loops out from the Clackamas County fairgrounds, the first one 55 miles and the second 45. I was back from loop 1 about 10:45 and stopped at the car to change. I didn't need to, but knew I could probably ditch the windbreaker and some of the food I was carrying. Plus, the day before the ride Dennis from BRM had dropped off the new kit and I wanted to display it, but with the threat of rain had opted for the wool. Now that the weather (and I) were warming, I figured what the heck, and dressed in the red & gold. I walked over to chat with these guys, and check out these, and these. Chris D commented on the BRM presence and said he liked the shoulder picture. The Man himself was busy at the fajita grill, but Chris D speculated on whether they could talk him into a similar Jersey portrait. The consensus was that CK wouldn't go for it. Their plan was to shut down the fajita line at 2:00, which meant I was going to have to hustle on the 45-mile loop if I was getting anything besides cookies post-century. 

I kind of surprised myself by how casually I took the second loop - no food, no jacket, just pedaling along. I knew coming in on the first loop that I had a tailwind, and I remember thinking "this is going to bite me at some point." It did. The last 8 miles or so into St. Paul were pretty brutal with the headwind. One of the guys I was chatting with at the start of the the morning was speculating on the potential road debris from Thursday's storm. The section near the Willamette river from Champoeg to St. Paul was where I really noticed it, especially anywhere that cottonwoods bordered the roads there was lots of sticks and branches on the shoulder. There were plenty of folks out with chainsaws and trailers cleaning up their yards and mini-farms. I saw a couple teenagers working on the branches of a downed tree that was easily 6 feet in diameter and had fortunately fallen parallel to their house. Thankfully the hop vines seemed to survive the winds just fine. Between the BRM "No Grain No Gain" kit, and the acres of hops, I was feeling like a rolling 2-wheeled homebrew.

Just before St. Paul, when I was about ready for a break from the saddle and some munchies,  I came to Heirloom Roses. These guys grow and sell some of the most beautiful and hardy roses you'll find anywhere. My wife gave me one of these for my birthday several years ago and this year it put on quite a show. Last year I pedaled through, but since the headwind had me a little winded, I was carrying a camera this time,  and roses were on parade just up the valley, I decided to stop.

The rest stop in St. Paul was well stocked and I fueled up for the final leg and headed out with a group of 4 other guys, but not before taking a picture of a really nice mixte.  J. P. Weigle made one sort of similar to this. You don't see many with that single-to-double top tube design. For that matter, you don't see many mixtes when you're out riding a century. Maybe in France. The world needs more mixtes, I think.

It was nice to work in a paceline again, especially with the headwind. I figured eventually we'd get to the point in the loop when the headwind turned tail and with about 15 to go that happened. Our group dwindled to 3 and then 2 when we hit Donald and one guy decided he didn't want to continue in with an empty water bottle. So Mike and Mike took turns towing each other into Canby. MIke #2 was doing his first century ever and feeling it, so I kept up the banter hoping it would make the final miles roll quicker and they did for both Mikes. I stopped at the car to ditch my bike and change my shoes. It was 2:10 when I got in the fajita line, but they were still serving. They asked if I wanted one or two. What a silly question.

RACC

I seem to be in a groove of doing a long ride about every two weeks this spring. Last Saturday it was the RACC Century - The Ride Around Clark County, put on annually by the Vancouver Bicycle Club. I had never heard of this ride until just after last year's edition - but it seems plenty of other folks have since it's one of the more popular local supported events, apparently. After riding it I can see why - it's a beautiful course.

I briefly considered riding to the start, and next year I'm committing myself to doing just that. But Clark County was - before this ride - a big blank spot in my cycling experience and I wasn't entirely confident I could get myself to the start by bike without bumbling around the suburbs. Plus it was raining, which is becoming a pattern for my long rides so far this year. The course

 opened at 6:30 and I was checked in, pinned, and riding just before 7. 

The 100-mile route initially followed the same course as the shorter routes (18, 35, 65), so the day began with a fair number of us headed east through wide, smooth, quiet suburb streets to Lacamas lake and the first rest stop. Somehow - at 17 miles - this came sooner than I was expecting. I wasn't really hungry so I didn't linger long before heading around the lake and into the more rural sections of northeast Clark County. There were plenty of rollers but no big hills leading to the east fork of the Lewis river. One of the riders I talked with mentioned the hills really started after the second rest stop at Moulton Falls. My lower back started getting sore during the six mile stretch along Lucia Falls road- a good excuse for a few minutes off the bike - and I was glad to reach the second rest stop where I walked back up the road to snap a couple

 pictures and stretch the legs a bit for the anticipated climbing. 

The VBC volunteers had really loaded up the rest stops and they're well-known locally for their "trail putty" ("road putty" would sound too gross, no?) which is a mix of peanut butter, honey, and powdered milk. I'm not sure how the powdered milk would sit with me for the long haul, but it would be interesting to try this stuff as a primary fuel for a long day. The combo of fat/protein/carbs seems just about ideal. I ate some along with a couple cookies, a banana, and a pbj, and saddled up.  

The next 30 miles or so had the biggest hills of the day, though there was never anything that felt endless or over-steep. Somewhere along Jenny Creek my computer quit on me at 62.99 miles. I stopped a couple times to adjust the magnet and check the wires but got nothing, so I was riding "blind" for the rest of the ride. I decided all I could do was zen it and I didn't worry too much about it since the Dan Henry's were clear. But I did realize that if this had been a self-supported brevet, the loss of the odometer would have been more problematic.

One thing I really look forward to on long rides - well, anytime really, - is a good cup of coffee. Or two. I usually start my morning with tea and save the coffee for when I get to work and the day is rolling. There was coffee at the beginning of the ride but I wasn't ready yet. Of course, the rest stops didn't have any; I suppose under the assumption that it's a diuretic and can't be good for you on a long ride. For me, the psychological benefit is more than worth any piddly risk of dehydration. Besides, it's mostly water. I know for myself I can hydrate just fine on coffee, and it sure taste better than lemon-lime Gatorade. Anyway, at about mile 89 or so there was a series of home made signs for a water/snack stop some enterprising girls had set up in their driveway. They were selling bottled water and giving away (with a donation jar) cookies & rice crispy treats. I started to ride by before calling over my shoulder "You don't have any coffee, do you?" Turns out they did and it was good. 

I had heard horror stories about a couple of hills in the final miles of this climb that seem designed to inflict physical and psychological pain on weary riders. Maybe it was the coffee, but I really didn't see what all the fuss was about since they were over almost before they started. After getting a break from the rain for the last couple hours, it started up again as I rode into Vancouver, but I made it back to Clark College relatively dry before the big storm hit. I was home - with more coffee - when that happened, and hoped everyone was off the course by then.

Boring Ride ?

It wasn't. With the forecast for stellar weather (finally), several of the team mates seemed to be chomping at the bit to get in a long country ramble. The idea of a jaunt out to Multnomah Falls was briefly entertained, but braving the narrow shoulders of the scenic highway on one of the first warm days of spring was reason enough to look for someplace more remote. Ever heard of the town of  George, Oregon? Me neither. 

The Rubber to the Road guide list two routes called "Boring - hardly," the short version and the long one. Six of us set out for the full-meal deal Sunday morning. Not exactly bright and early like I hoped, but early enough. The first of many climbs came where 181st becomes 190th on the south side of Gresham. A lovely fast swoop down Butler past Persimmon golf course put us square in farmland and my old neighborhood at the base of Tower hill. Up and down Sunshine Valley road led into the town of Boring and the beginning of what Fergus called "the ride of a thousand hills." 

The back 40 on this ride was all up and down in the Cascade foothills, with just enough flat plateaus to allow some casual spinning before dropping into the next drainage. We crossed Eagle Creek, Deep Creek, Tickle Creek, Johnson Creek, and a bunch of other creeks, some of them several times. The high point of the route is the lollipop loop out of Eagle Fern park and up to the "town" of George. There's a real pretty church there and not much else. This Sunday there were about a dozen kids playing outside. Maybe George is always this way, but we remarked at how quiet the kids were. Like, eerie quiet. 

The drop back down took us through big fresh clear cuts on perfect sweeping curves. It looked like a lot of logging roads I've driven to get to climbs here in the northwest, except it was paved. I wish I'd taken a picture of this portion, but I didn't want to stop in the middle of such a fun descent. I checked my altimeter on my bike and we dropped about 1300 feet in about 10 minutes. Of course, we had to gain a lot of that back getting out of Eagle Creek. And it took longer. 

Back in Boring after the last climb out of Tickle Creek, everyone was feeling pretty toasted and no one complained when new-guy Andy's bike flatted just sitting in the parking lot at McCall's store in Boring. A few minutes delay in hitting the road for the final stretch back into Gresham was fine.

 I bought a muffin and some grapefruit juice since for the first time this year I actually ran out of food. In the absence of a support van, I was handing out fig bars from my snazzy notebook pencil organizer/handlebar feed bag. Maybe it was my imagination, but I think the derisive smirks disappeared in the face of empty pockets and the hunger bonk. 

all in all it was A Splendid Day. Here's the route.

Consolation Ride

On Saturday I really wanted to be doing this. But with the girls gone to the ranch, big C here with me, and a pre-Easter dinner planned with my parents and sisters, I had to content myself with something shorter. Still, It ended up being a good long enough ride on roads new to me. And it didn't rain, which was a welcome break.

The three deer and I
watch the Canby ferry cross
but I board alone

Cars, part 2

Six-hundred riders

chase the Lion of Flanders

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up.

On Saturday I joined a bunch of other cyclist, including about a half-dozen guys associated in one way or another with the team, for de Ronde van Oeste Portlandia. I did this ride last year and was glad to have some friends along for the suffering this time. The weather was beautiful - really, the nicest day so far this year, which probably helped drive the turnout, which was estimated over 600. I think that's incredible for something that's unofficial and just organized by word-of-mouth and the net. You can read more about it here and here.

Unfortunately, one of our teammates, John, was seriously injured on one of the descents when a driver made a left turn directly in front of him and a group of riders. John was probably traveling 30+ mph and the accident sent him over the truck and left him with a badly broken leg and numerous other injuries. Our group had been split in half by a wrong turn a little earlier, and I came upon the scene a couple minutes after the crash. Fortunately, John was conscious and

 responsive, but he was in a lot of pain. There's no telling for sure, of course, but what I saw was as good an argument for the value of a helmet as I have ever seen. We were all left fairly shell-shocked, and those who were literally at his side when the collision took place were quite traumatized. The comment that most struck me was "it looked like a bike explosion."

In a previous post I talked about the price we as a culture seem willing to pay in order to drive. For me, this tragedy puts a violent and angry exclamation on that. I'm sick of what feels like the senseless brutality that drivers of cars inflict on vulnerable cyclist and pedestrians. And I'm sick of the voices that dare to say that cyclist and pedestrians are somehow to blame because the roads were made for cars. I refuse to use the term "accident" for this type of violence because to do so implies that it was inevitable, and that there wasn't a human at fault when there was. I'm not claiming the driver assaulted John, but when someone is at the wheel of a car and his recklessness or lack of attention or poor driving skills cause injury, a crime has been committed. I don't say this out of malice toward the driver, who, if he's like most of us, must feel sick with remorse. But I say it because I believe that if things are ever going to change - if road safety for all users is ever going to be a priority, we need to see more bad drivers charged with a crime. I hate saying this, because I take no pleasure in anyone's punishment, regardless of what they have done. But the close calls are beginning to wear on me and those who love me. Those of us who choose to regularly commute by bike can recount frightening close calls by the dozens. And despite the familiarity with bikes that inner-Portland drivers have (and bless their hearts most of them are great at sharing the road), there's still far too much selfishness and aggression out there. I want the driver who hit John charged with a crime not because I want him punished, but because I want the rest of the drivers out there to get the message that they must take the responsibility of getting behind the wheel as serious as a heart attack. I want the same rules for the road that I have for my classroom - that is, doing the wrong thing must be harder and more uncomfortable than doing the right thing. When a motorist can send a cyclist to the hospital and get back behind the wheel and drive home, something is seriously wrong.

Face It

Your car, like mine

cannot leap through giant hoops of fire

or loop, upside down, in gleaming tunnels of steel

it cannot scale cliffs, ascend roadless peaks

or plow through towering drifts of snow

your car will never speed across Bonneville, 

cut midnight cookies in New York City,

or drag race in a parking garage

Your car is not sexy

and doesn't make you sexy either

it is not a weapon or a toy 

it does not symbolize freedom

independence America power

an animal or you

Your car, like mine

is an appliance 

like a washing machine or a refrigerator

good to have 

necessary to the job at hand

a tool fit to its purpose

and when your car has been used with gratitude

and carefully kept from carnage

guided through neighborhood streets

gently purring past children as they play

at the end of the age of the auto

your car, like mine

will come to a stop

maybe in a quiet pasture

to rest and rust and return

until all that remains

is a dull orange headstone

leeching iron back into the earth

photos by Dave Roth

Flat road in flat light

from my tires to the sky

seven shades of gray

Brevet #1

Someone referred to my first randonneuring ride two weeks ago as a "baptism," which was appropriate in terms of it being my first, but also in terms of wetness. Snoozeville wasn't a Episcopalian-style dip-your-fingers-in-the-holy-water sprinkling either, but a full-on Pentecostal take-me-to-the-river dunking. Apparently my soul still needed a bit more cleansing because Saturday's Birkie Brevet was more of the same.

After Snoozeville I kind of obsessed about the tweaks I could make that would allow me to double the distance while hopefully improving my comfort. I rode Snoozeville on my Poprad, which seemed a little stiff, and my position was not quite as upright as I wanted. Plus, the Fizik saddle was comfy to about 50 miles and then, not so much. Since I'm new to the whole rando thing I figure I'll just take each ride as an experiment. What works, stays, and what doesn't, well, it's just a bike ride - how bad can it get? So I thought about riding River (my 1986 Nishiki Riviera touring bike - which is also my commuting bike), but knew I had to make some changes. Since this was stuff I wanted to do anyway, the Birkie was the kick in the pants I needed to get it done. The stock bars were, like, 38cm, and the stem maybe 50mm. I've read that in a relaxed position with hands on top of bars the bar should be in a sight line with the front axle. Well, I was scrunched up and looking at the axle waaaayy out there in front of the bars. And the 0ld-school 600 brake levers, while cool looking, were too small for my hands and stuck out too far from the bar - they're just weird.

So I picked up some (barely) used Nitto Noodle bars at Citybikes, dug out a 100mm Technomic stem I had, and slipped on some old Dia-compe levers that fit my hands better. I also swapped out the old Fujita saddle for a Brooks Pro which came on the mid-80's Japanese made Bianchi I bought from a teammate last year and built up for my son's cruiser. Truth be told, the saddle was the main reason I bought the bike. I figured I was probably going to end up spending a hundred bucks for a nice saddle someday anyway, so it was practically like the bike was free, right? I told my son the bike could be his, but the saddle was mine. I also added a cheap Vetta computer from the REI outlet since I'm lousy at guestimating mileage. I finished the job with new cloth tape and 6 coats of shellac and River was ready to rando. But hedging my bets I also made some modifications to the Poprad. Teammate Greg sold me a slightly shorter stem for cheap, and Jeff generously gave me a Thompson post to replace the stock carbon one I had (I can't trust bike stuff that looks and feels like plastic.) I've read good stuff about WTB Rocket saddles, and Scott had one he offered me super-cheap, so I made those swaps as well.

Now it was time to experiment, and since I was on Spring Break, I had time to for test rides. The problem was, as soon as vacation started, I came down with the Cold From Hell. The teachers' curse. I'm not usually a believer in weather-induced sickness; I believe fresh air, regardless of the temperature or precipitation, is healthier than being stuck indoors with central air blowing all those germs around. But the symptoms started the Monday after the Snoozeville/Shamrock soakings, and by Friday before break it was clear I was losing the battle. Still, I had blocked out Wednesday for a solo scenic highway jaunt, and I really wanted to see how River handled and check out that new tunnel. Of course Wednesday dawned cold and wet. T suggested I stay home, or at least cut back my planned ride, and I said that sounded good - I'd just head out to the Sandy river and see how I felt. "Maybe I'll head up to Springdale and turn around there" I think I said. Ha. I doubt she believed me either. Of course, once in the saddle I felt great, the cough disappeared, and there was no way I was turning back early. Still lacking a handlebar bag/saddlebag, I decided to take a small backpack w/bladder. I also thought I'd try Kent's plastic-bag-between-the-socks idea since I really like my sandals. Verdict? The bike handled really well. Much less twitchy, more comfy and upright, no shimmy riding with no hands (handlebars more forward?), and the saddle was as comfy as I could expect for one new (to me). My hands and feet got cold, especially on the descent from Crown Point to Multnomah Falls, but I finally took off the full-finger cycling gloves and put on the rag wool ones, and my hands were warm the rest of the day. My feet eventually warmed up too - and stayed dry. The experiment was mostly successful, though 65 miles with a pack convinced me I didn't really want to do that for the Birkie. And the tunnel is nice - If you want to see it, get there soon while it still smells like fresh-milled cedar. Another plus to doing this ride on a wet and cold Wednesday was I had the whole highway to myself. I took the lane basically from the Womens' Forum Park to the tunnel and back, with almost no traffic. Including Marine drive and the Sandy river I saw one other bike all day, and that was in Gresham on my way home.

In the new tunnel

alone, sheltered from the rain

watching waterfalls

The next day T and I had our long planned and highly anticipated bike date to LRBC. I follow their blog, but it's a long way from Montavilla to St. Johns, and not really on the way to anywhere we go together, so we had never actually been there. I decided to ride the Poprad this time and see how it felt. I was still a little saddle-sore from the day before, but the Rocket saddle felt better the longer I rode. Strangely, I noticed that even though I only switched from a

100cm to a 90cm stem, I went from feeling too stretched out to feeling kind of scrunched. Hmm. (It wasn't until I got home and checked that I realized the carbonium seatpost I swapped out had a setback clamp. Ah-ha. So back went the orignal stem and it felt like I'd found the sweet spot.) The breakfast was splendid and the lattes spot-on. T and I have talked about opening our own breakfast/lunch/bakery place someday, and LRBC is definitely inspiration - it's really a beautiful little oasis of yumminess.

However, by Friday I was still obsessing over which bike to ride. Really, what it came down to was what I said about seeing the whole intro to randonneuring thing as a big fun experiment. In the end I decided that since I rode the Poprad in Snoozeville, it was River's turn. A year or so ago I exchanged a couple of emails with Joel Metz, asking all sorts of newby questions about bike style, components, geometry, blah blah blah. What he said, in essence, was "ride the bike you've got and go from there." It was good advice. The only thing I did different from the gorge ride was take a pannier instead of a backpack. I was a little worried I'd get some shimmy, since on my commute this arrangement can induce some tail-wagging-the-dog wobbling, but the new bar/stem must have cured it since I was able to ride no-hands with no-problem.

So - the brevet. I showed up not so early as last time, driving this time because I really couldn't think of another way to get there in time. I'll admit there was a moment in the blustery rain near Hillsboro when I was thinking "Do I really want to do another crappy weather ride?" and I almost turned the car around. I'm glad I didn't, and it was heartening to see so many folks in the lot who looked and sounded like they could think of no better way to spend a Saturday than riding all day in Oregon's coast range in the rain. We pulled out of Forest Grove just at dawn, and once we hit SR 6 I fell in with a group of 5 that included Pat from Seattle, Ian (?) from Olympia, Mike Johnson, and a couple others. Seemed like there was quite a contingent from the Puget Sound area on this ride. Though we lost contact for long stretches, these were the same guys I ended up finishing with; Mike and I rode and chatted together from the Glenwood control to the finish, and I ended up saving him from a long train ride home. I suppose If I have to drive, it helps to know I can give someone else a ride as well.

Rolling through Timber

like a flock of steel birds

one dog barks hello

Just about all this country was new to me. I'm a native Oregonian, but I honestly don't think I've ever been to Vernonia before. The closest I ever came, I think, was a couple years ago when a friend and I were returning from the Astoria 'cross race and we tried to come back that way, but were turned around by a wreck. Despite the constant rain, it really was a beautiful ride - it makes me want to come back on a sunny day sometime. Some observations: The guys I was with coming into the first control at Anderson Park wasted no time. I was munching cookies when Susan asked me if I wanted some coffee and I said "sure." When I turned around, those guys were all gone. Later, approaching the Birkenfield control/turnaround, I kept expecting to see them going the other way, but I only counted 5 riders - the lead pack of 4, followed 5 minutes later by a 'bent rider - before I got to the control. And there they all were, gathered around the tables, feet up, scarfing onion rings. I had plenty of time for another coffee and some fig bars, but I made sure I wasn't the last one left when they pulled out this time.

I hadn't noticed a tailwind coming into Birkenfield, so the headwind when I pointed back up the Nehalem river was a little disheartening. I did notice the sun trying to come out a couple times, But I don't believe it ever actually stopped raining. The climb up to and past the town of Timber seemed to pass pretty quick - I felt like I got a little charge when the mileage turned past the century mark. The last few miles back into Forest Grove Mike and I got nailed by a pretty good cloudburst/headwind, but still seemed to be making decent time. I think our check-in time was just shy of 4:30, and since I was optimistically hoping for 5:00, I was happy with that. we chatted and munched for a few minutes and hit the road for home.

What worked for me: I love the Noodle bars. In combo with the Technomic stem they just felt right and I could move around with them, sit up, whatever. The Brooks saddle was also surprisingly comfortable and I'll stick with it. I remembered the rag wool gloves this time and they made all the difference for keeping my hands warm. I actually started with polypro liners under regular short leather-palmed cycling gloves and changed out at the first control, noticing an immediate improvement. I also have a new appreciation for my trusty Burley jacket. I'm definitely lusting for the rando uniform, but my torso stayed pretty dry, and what little water did get in was wicked by the wool anyway. I decided to leave the wool Swobo knickers at home since I had some - how to say this? - chafing of a delicate nature on the Snoozeville ride. I went with my regular cycling shorts under Hind Drylete tights and I was golden. I also smeared chamois and self liberally with bag balm. I know some folks have issues with bag balm, and this was my first time using it for cycling. But I grew up on a farm milking cows, so for me, it's got a kind of nostalgic appeal. And I can't be sure, but I think the cows along the route knew and were smiling. And there was no chafing this time.

What didn't work: My feet got wet. It rained at least as hard on the gorge ride and they stayed dry. The only difference? For the Birkie I used thin produce bags between socks, but on the gorge ride I used plastic grocery bags. Maybe the longer ride just wore them out, or maybe they leaked from the top? But here's the really dumb thing. I have waterproof sealskinz socks, but I wanted to try the low-tech route - you know, as part of the experiment. I know, dumb, right? It gets better. I actually hauled the Sealskinz in my pannier for the entire ride without knowing I had them in there. Sheesh.

I also carried too much other stuff, most of it food. I had spare socks and a Marmot driclime windshirt that I never used, but they weighed next to nothing. I only carried one water bottle and that was fine since there was plenty of opportunity to refill. But seeing the onion rings in Birkenfield was a lesson in the art of refueling. I actually pulled out some food in the parking lot before starting, but here's what I carried and what I actually ate. In my jersey pockets I had 6 jumbo-sized whole wheat fig bars, a banana, and a flask of raspberry Hammer gel. I also had a couple dozen cats in my jacket pocket that I was popping like, well, candy. In the pannier I carried 1 Bagel w/peanut butter and homemade huckleberry jam (I don't know why, but I think huckleberries have near-mystical biking and hiking powers), about a pint of gorp, 3 Gorge Delight fruit bars, 1 Clif Bar, and 1 Builder bar. When I was done I still had 3 fig bars, most of the gorp, over half the Hammer Gel, 2 of the fruit bars, the Clif bar and the Builder bar, and all I bought along the way was coffee. I figure I had enough food for a full weekend campaign if my legs could have held out that long. Realistically, I could have stuffed everything I needed in my pockets and left the pannier behind.

What I really want for the future, though, is better weather. One thing I'm learning is that these randonneur folks are a social bunch, and I need more of that in my cycling life. I did some chatting, but I suspect that a lot of us were kind of huddled against the elements and in survival mode. Actually, I would have been fine and probably felt even better afterwards if I had done the ride slower, talked more, and stopped totake some pictures, but the weather on this day just wasn't conducive to that kind of ride.

Now the thought of 300K actually seems within the realm of possibility, especially if it's not raining and I can find some good onion rings. We'll see. One thing's for certain, I'm no longer a rando wannabe.