1999 SIR Newsletters

1999 SIR Newsletters

The following are expected '99 dates for publishing (mailing via USPS) the SIR newsletter. They are based on our currently scheduled SIR activities. If you have a contribution please use the following dates for timely submission, one week prior to publication. More dates will be added if the need arises.

Thoughts on the Arlington 400 km

by Mark Vande Kamp

It's 2:50 A.M. and my alarm is beeping insistently. It's an ungodly hour to be awakened, but a bit of pre-ride trepidation has made my sleep light. With a limited degree of excitement I am setting out to ride the third in the Northwest Brevet series sponsored by the Seattle International Randonneurs. Work commitments have recently changed, allowing me to do the ride, but I haven't done much training since the 300 km approximately a month ago. That ride had turned into a sort of "night of the riding dead" for me and I am a little worried about adding to the challenge. Still, the alarm is off and I'm out of bed. Jan arrives at my house just as I bring my bike out to my car, and together we embark on an uneventful trip to Arlington where the ride begins at the Arlington Motor Inn. Thirty-two dedicated riders set off at 5:00 A.M. under dark, cloudy skies. It's about 50 degrees, and showers are predicted. Quickly, the lead group forms. Jan takes over Kendall's usual spot at the front of the early pace, joined by Andy, Paul (providing a primo draft on his mountain bike), Ken, Steve, and myself. I've made a personal vow not to be sucked into going too hard too early, but I feel comfortable as we begin rotating leads. My resolve is tested when we reach a long but gentle incline and Steve jumps ahead. Jan jokingly intones that Steve will pay a price for his early attack. But I'm happy when the group re-forms and the pace hasn't crept up beyond earlier levels. Steve does drop back not long after this time. We don't see him again until later. On the ride in, Jan had made it very clear that it always rains on the North Cascades Highway. When we make the turn onto the highway, he is soon proven right. Sprinkles begin as we make our way to the first control and turn-around point past Marblemount. We reach the control having made good time and take a bit of a break. I drink a can of Ensure Plus, a new type of ride-food for me, but one that seems to go down well, at least in the current cool conditions. I'm making conscious efforts to eat more calories, earlier in the ride, with the goal of preventing the nausea that made the 300 km and its aftermath very unpleasant. As we ride back West, we see the other riders in groups and singly. Everyone waves and looks good at this point. There is almost no other traffic on the road as it is still rather early on a Saturday morning and the road is closed for winter at a point beyond our turn-around. The clouds obscure the more grandiose scenery at altitude, but the trees and river are beautiful in their own right. Several of us have commented that moving toward the mountains had brought cooler air temperatures, but chilliness is really starting to creep in as the earlier showers have returned and intensified. It's a cold steady rain and although we all have fenders of some sort, Jan's mud-flap got torn off at some previous time and Paul's MTB fender does nothing to limit the water flying back at drafting riders. I seem to have one or the other of those wheels a good share of the time, and before long my jacket is covered with road grit. My strategy is to ride just slightly to the side and take the brunt of the spray on my shoulders rather than my face, but I also ingest my daily mineral requirements. It certainly isn't like last weekend when I rode a perfectly sunny 60 miler with Andy, Paul, and Kent, but it is an awful lot like the training rides we rode back in January and February. The first century has passed in a little less than five and a half hours. I'm wet to the skin but not feeling completely chilled as of yet. Unfortunately, when we stop in Sedro Woolley and hang out in the AM/PM all the cold blood from my extremities seems to rush to my core and I'm soon shaking and my teeth are chattering. Ken shares some hot cocoa but it doesn't seem to have much of an effect. I'm longing to get back on the bike simply to get moving again. My past experience is that I'll warm up much more quickly that way than by standing still, even in a warm store. Jan jokes about heading South to Arlington rather than continuing with the ride and it's hard to tell if he's serious. Eventually we set off again, and it's immediately apparent that the rain has slacked off a bit. Nonetheless, I'm shaking and am evidently matching the natural resonance of my bike frame, creating a speed wobble that is controllable but kind of humorous as I wobble through the raindrops. Experience from those training rides holds true again as a decent pace on the bike does more to warm me up than the cocoa or warm store. I still feel cold but I have on all the clothes I brought with me and I feel strong. The place I want to be is on the bike and making progress, and that is where I am. We soon find that we made the right choice by taking Jan's suggested route as a joke. Before fifteen miles have passed, the rain has ended and we get our first glimpses of blue sky. We pass through the "blink and you'll miss it" town of Deming and decide that we like it there. It's obvious that this town care's enough to keep its streets dry for bicyclists. We appreciate the effort. The weather has gotten better but unfortunately one of our pace line is suffering. Andy has had knee problems and they are flaring up again. He decides to call a relative who lives in the area and get a ride back to Arlington. Discretion is the better part of valor, and Andy makes the better decision. Miles pass and we reach the border town of Sumas. We also turn back South into the prevailing wind and begin a long segment of switching between headwinds where we ride straight paceline and sidewinds where we ride varying echelons - narrow ones when the traffic and shoulder were limiting, and wide ones on the quiet roads. We are a group of four keeping a good pace and the miles roll under our wheels. Ken is the keeper of the route sheet and the head navigator, Jan is taking long pulls and Paul is doing likewise. I'm trying to hold up my part without burying myself or escalating things into a contest. Except for a two-mile stretch of nasty broken concrete on Sunrise road, the riding is on pleasant flat roads. Before long we've worked our way Southwest to Birch Bay and a wonderful control at a park on the Strait of Georgia. I have no more Ensure left and none of the sweets and snacks at the control appeal to my slightly balky stomach. I eat what sounds best (cheese flavored crackers) and hope to get enough calories to avoid bonking later. Still- sunshine, clouds, wind on the water, a sheltered spot with a propane heater, and a nice long rest off the bike do us all some good. 173 miles are done, less than a century to go. After our rest, Jan is eager to pick up the pace and I still feel pretty strong, so we push ahead of Paul and Ken. Jan takes on both the navigation and long-pull duties, and I do my best to maintain pace and provide company. Things go well until we reach the outskirts of Bellingham and I start to feel the dreaded beginnings of a bonk creeping in. One of the key indicators is a deep-seated, irrational feeling of extreme crabbiness. Luckily for Jan, we have been riding largely in silence, so my ill mood is kept largely to myself. I don't want to be the one to suggest stopping, but eventually I'm forced to tell Jan that I need to stop and eat. I'm hoping to see a grocery store where I can buy more Ensure, but none are to be found along the route through Bellingham. A very nice park overlooking Bellingham Bay does appear presently, and we pull over and take a seat on a park bench. One of the basic lessons of riding bicycle is that as long as you are moving, cyclists coming from behind take a long time to catch up. However, as soon as you stop entirely, you are quickly overtaken. You'd think that this simple idea wouldn't surprise me anymore, but the fact that Ken and Paul show up in a relatively short time somehow seems unexpected. I'm glad when they turn off the road to join us at the park. I'm not feeling as strong as when we split up and will appreciate more riders to share pace line duties. Also, it's getting closer to the fall of darkness when it's nice to ride in a larger, more visible group. I manage to force down some of the crackers carried from Birch Bay and drink half a bottle or so of Gatorade and we set off again. Chuckanut drive is renowned in the Northwest as a scenic drive and with the sun setting over the water I'm sure it would be gorgeous if I had the spare mental energy to take it in. Unfortunately, my energy is taken up by trying to ride the right pace on the rolling hills, avoiding overlapping wheels, and making sure that no one (including myself) falls too far behind on the climbs to rejoin the group on the descents. Ken points out a park where in a past brevet he was forced by fatigue and cold temperatures to sleep on a restroom floor. I'm hoping that we all avoid such a fate tonight. I'm confident that we will, given that less than 60 miles remain and we are still moving at a decent pace. The final descent from the Chuckanut hills onto the Skagit flats reminds me that I rode this segment of highway only a month ago on the 300 km. It looked a lot different from the other direction. Only ten miles to the next control and about forty miles to the finish - it's really starting to feel like the home-stretch now. We stop briefly on Bow Hill road to turn on our lights and take a brief stretch. A passing car stops to ask directions. It's a high-school couple obviously on their way to the prom. With their fancy outfits and freshly-scrubbed appearance they make quite a contrast to four scruffy randonneurs. Ken fills them in on how to find their destination and they head one way while we head the other. We stop at the Texaco control on Highway 20 and although the stop seems relatively brief, time now seems to pass more quickly in the store than it does on the bike. A flat 21 miles to the final control at Stanwood is the next order of business. It's fully dark but the road is smooth, traffic is light, the winds are either dead or favoring us, and we are riding a well-practiced drill of moderate-length pulls. My legs still feel pretty good, but my upper back muscles are burning and cramping. I do my best to move around on my handlebars and stretch when possible, but mostly it's a matter of endurance at this point. We pass what seems to be just another rural home when suddenly three or four kids jump up in the ditch along side us and yell loudly before breaking out in peals of laughter. My heart skipped some beats and then quickly made up for it when the adrenaline hit. What were they doing out there on a cold night? It made no sense to any of us. In Conway we make the turn onto highway 530 and continue our smooth and silent trip through the darkness. I hear a sound behind us like an overtaking truck, but there are no headlights in my mirror. For a moment I'm confused and startled as the noise grows closer, louder than any truck. Then I realize that there are railroad tracks alongside the road and a freight train is coming alongside. We ride in the small pools of light cast by our headlights, our legs spinning a quiet rhythm while next to us, seemingly close enough to touch, the train rumbles forward with a harsh and forceful mechanical pounding that is almost overwhelming. I feel like it is drawing us forward, a force that both provides energy and mocks our puny efforts at the same time as it rumbles past. It's hard to tell how long we ride alongside the train, but before I have time to fully comprehend the scene, to break it down from the magic and power of its raw impact on my senses, the last car passes and the cacophonous, dark hulk of the train is fading away, leaving us behind to drop back to our comfortable pace. It is an experience I know I can never fully describe, but one I will never forget. I don't know exactly how far it is to the finish, but the rest of the ride will be anticlimactic. We make a very quick stop at the Stanwood control and leave the flats behind for the gently rolling route Southeast for I-5 and the Arlington Motor Inn that we left behind this morning. I haven't been watching the route sheet or mileage so I don't know the exact length of this final leg of the brevet. For once, this works in my favor as I'm surprised at how quickly we see the orange lights of the I-5 overpass. It's the final tiny obstacle before reaching the finish on the other side of the freeway. We ride into the parking lot together and are soon gathered in room 119 handing in our cards. It's about 18 hours since we left and it's very nice to be finished. Special thanks to Ron Lee and the rest of the crew who put on a great brevet. It was a challenging course in what seem to be typically difficult Northwest conditions. Lots of images and experiences that I won't forget, from the longest ride I've yet attempted.

Mark Vande Kamp

A Wet Ride To Sedro Woolley

by D. Wright

I turned around and headed west. Between Marblemount and Sedro Woolley the skies opened up and a cold deluge descended upon the land, and especially upon the riders. It got worse and worse. I struggled to stay warm. My upper back ached, my hands were so cold I had to shift with my palms. After about 15 miles of this torture I was hailed by Ron Lee (the ride organizer), who'd stepped out of a car on the opposite side of the road. He said he just wanted to know if I was o.k. (he was making a point of checking on everyone during this freezing stretch). I yelled back that I was o.k. and continued on, though I didn't know how much more I could take. Up ahead I thought that the sky looked a touch lighter. A few miles later and the rained seemed to be letting up. Eventually it stopped, though I was now in pain all over. It turned out that this squall was the downfall of many a rider. If there was one lesson this rando season seemed to want to teach us it's that we should always come dressed to do Iditabike. The tandem (one of two on the ride) pulled along side and we exchanged encouraging words. They pulled into a cafe and I followed. Once inside I plopped myself down on a bar stool. But now I was feeling sick to my stomach from the pain. I slid down the bar stool to t he floor, just to make sure I didn't end up on the floor when not anticipating it. Eventually I felt strong enough to walk to the men's room. There I sat on the floor some more. Painful spasms shot through my arms and legs. I couldn't get my gloves off because my fingers were useless. I longed just to be able to feel well enough to take the shortest distance back to the start, get in my car, go home, and go to bed. Eventually I felt warmer and wandered out to the dining room and sat with the tandem couple. Then I shook uncontrollably. Eventually I got my gloves off by using my teeth. The waitress brought hot cocoa. Life slowly returned to my limbs. The captain had a huge meal but the stoker ate nothing. This was not a good sign. The sun came out and we scurried out to enjoy it. Well, actually, *I* scurried out to discover a flat tire. By the time it was fixed not only was the sun gone but it was raining again. Fortunately it was a light rain and it ended soon. At Sedro Woolley the course headed north along highway 9. I decided to forget about my plan to quit and cautiously headed north.

D. Wright

Notes from Southern California

By Lynn Katano

Our southernmost SIR member, Lynn Katano, has been doing her Fleche and brevet series in Southern California. She recently sent in this note on her randonneuring experiences: My lighting has worked out well. I ended up utilizing a Petzel Artic head light and modified it to mount on my stem. It runs on a 4.5 volt battery and utilizes either a standard 3 watt (11 hours) or halogen (6 hours) bulb. I also can mount one on my helmet for a great helmet light...it's super light and I put the battery pack in either my camel back or my jersey pocket. It was kind of fun working with my friend to devise the system! The Petzel headlight comes with a little storage area in the back to carry a spare bulb and arrives with both the 3 watt and the halogen, so depending on the intended use I stock which ever spare I need. As for the batteries, the 4.5v is the same as three AAs side by side...I carry one or two spares in my saddle bag as necessary or send one ahead to a bag drop if available. It's been a substantial improvement over the Cateye Micro that I'd been using previously (and whining about...) As opposed to asking about lighting systems, I should have asked about sleep deprivation! It's been my nemesis on the 400 km, 600 km and Fleche...perhaps it was the combination of 30 degree temperatures and insufficient fueling, but at a certain point of the ride I'm on autopilot and struggling to stay on the road and on the bike!? Coffee and Twinkies didn't even help...so I'm thinking about trying drugs?! It amazes me that I can keep pedaling while I'm asleep! Being a Southern Californian, I've had to learn ALOT about dressing for cold (I suppose, relatively for us!?) weather. Rain hasn't been as much of a problem this year, but our 400 and 600 routes found us riding in 30 degree temperature at the coldest parts. Unfortunately, I'm highly susceptible to the cold and end up looking like I'm doing the Iditarod by the time I get all of my layers on...but, layering is definitely the trick! I've also learned to not put on my windbreaker until I'm in dire need, thereby avoiding the sweating and freezing process that ultimately occurs. I think I was up to 2 Capeline undershirts, jersey, long-sleeved jersey, arm warmers, tights, wind pants, wind vest, fleece vest, rain jacket, booties, glove liners, long-fingered gloves and balaclava...and a H.A.W.G. Camelback to carry it all! That Alpine transit pack is looking pretty good... Our Fleche was a self imposed ride from Hell. Silly us...we had two teams from So. Cal ride to Davis from Reedley...south to north. With 500 feet of elevation gain (Yes...500 feet) and a wind advisory the entire time, it was the most boring, most arduous ride any of us had ever done. We had 30-40 MPH winds a good portion of the ride. At 108 lbs and on a 46 cm bike...my friends almost tied a string on me to make sure I was still with them?! If they heard me shriek as a gust almost blew me off the road, they knew I was still pedaling! At about 1am we turned North into the headwind onto Airport Road. After trudging along at what seemed like a snails pace for at least an hour, I began to realize that the scenery hadn't changed at all. Long stretches of open space broken up by factories illuminated by yellow streetlights. The road was straight and flat as far as the street lights continued. Since I couldn't see my odometer or my route sheet I had no idea how far we had come or when our next turn was. What I was more concerned about was when I could get a cup of coffee as I had begun pedaling in my sleep! I vaguely remember asking the tandem ahead of me how much further we had to follow this road and Bobbi responding with a chipper "Only 20 more miles!". Groan... It was like being in a nightmare...a never-ending stretch of yellow lights, factories and open fields. And not an open convenience store in sight! I got so-o sleepy at one point that another rider and I curled up together on a freezing cold concrete slab in front of a bakery and dozed for 5 minutes while our teammates timed us. Didn't even realize the concrete was freezing cold! We struggled back on our bikes and after what was an eternity, we finally turned off that awful road and found coffee, apple fritters, frozen burritos and a warmer environment at an AM-PM or something. I'm sure the attendant didn't know what to make of four riders ransacking the store and sleeping on his floor at 5 in the morning. I didn't find out until the trip home that every time I asked Bobbi "how much further" she would respond with "Only 20 more miles!" for what ended up being 40 torturous miles on that road?! I was so sleepy I never even caught on!? It took us 24 hours just to complete the 360km. At that point we all just sat on a corner and waited for our vehicle to come get us...so much for our aspirations of riding 400 km! Then we had to listen to friends from No. Cal talk about their 50 mph tailwind and the great dinner they had at their hotel stop. Grrrr.... Well...I'm off to Santa Rosa for the Wine Country Century...so much for mega-miles this weekend. I hear a bottle of zinfandel calling to me...

Lynn

Thoughts on the Arlington 400 km Make-up May 10-11

by Pete Bajema

Thought from the 1999 Fleche Pacifique

Duane Wright

Olympic 600 km Preride summary and Tips

Olympic Peninsula 600 km Brevet The ride started out fine with no problems, even though I had just gotten off work at 4am. I met Ken at the ferry terminal under overcast skies and temperatures in the mid 40’s. As we made it across to Bremerton, I was anxious to ride some of the section I was not familiar with, i.e. route 112 and the LaPush excursion. Traffic along route to the Hoods Canal Bridge was light and the shoulder was wide and clean. I can’t say the same for the bridge, as it is not one user friendliest around. Be careful for the glass along both directions. The cloud cover is starting to burn off as we climb the hills towards Hwy 101. Both Ken and I are hoping for nice weather for a change. It is very nice to have a wide and clean shoulder to ride on for a change. We make our 1st stop at Sequim for water and strip off some of our clothing as the as the sun has come out of hibernation – what a welcome site! As we are rolling out of town Ken breaks a spoke on his front wheel… the 1st of several to come that would slow us down. Fortunately, the wheel was not that far out of round, so we continue onward. Another (2) spokes break ~ 5miles down the road…. What happening here? Is Murphy trying to tell us something?. Thank goodness Port Angeles is only 10 miles down the road. We limp into PA and head for the Bike shop. One hour later, and only few dollars lighter in Kens pocket, he has a finely tuned front wheel. There are many little hills to climb as we leave PA towards 112 and the coast. I have always wanted to go on Hwy 112 and now I am doing it…and am I going to pay for it? The answer was no as Hwy 112, narrow at times, is biker friendly and offers some beautiful scenery, not to mention little traffic. You do some climbing, as it navigates back and forth over the ridge. We loose site of the water as we head inland past the 3-house town of Pysht to intersect with hwy 113. The nice ocean views come back as we ride into Callam Bay and ride along the water edge all the way to Sekui. This is what I call riding. Of course I can do without the head wind that is prevalent along the coast. Only a little further to our next control at Ray’s Chevron. One not of importance… The store closes up at 9p, so get there early! The realization that our Port Angeles rest stop is a long way is starting to sink in. Having no sleep since 12 noon yesterday is catching up with me…along with the thoughts of having to do another 200 km before resting. The weather is starting to turn on us with clouds and a few sprinkles as we back track our way out Hwy 113 to LaPush. We make it to the intersection of Hwy 101 and Hwy 110 and decide to eat dinner at the restaurant on the corner (The Smokehouse). We arrive at 9p just as they we closing up. So if you want some great food, eat here… but you arrive before 9p. On the bikes again at 9:45p, on our way to LaPush. I had hoped to ride the route in the daylight but… The road into LaPush is nice with very little traffic. Unfortunately once we got to the waters edge all we could do was listening to the waves crash against the shore. {Greg, you should have a great time down there.}. On the way out, my body said that was enough, as there was no way I was going to PA on no sleep for 36+ hrs. We got a motel in Forks and Sleep for 6 hrs. {This was the best 6 hr rest I’ve had in a long time.} I do not recommend this stopover to anyone as it makes your second day a challenging one (180+ miles to finish). We started out the next morning to rain in Forks. This is normal for Forks as it as the weather changes from minute to minute. The route back to PA on hwy 101 is a flatter course without the strong headwinds. If Ken hadn’t lost (2) more spokes it would have been a fast ride home. For 10 miles we skirted the edges of Crescent Lake and its splendor set against the hills surrounding it. The road around the lake is fine condition with a few patches of grooved roadway mixed in. Riding into PA I become more concerned about the Quilcene checkpoint time with the current pace we are riding. Ken Assures me that we have plenty of time and not to worry, but not wanting to repeat the ride I speed up and ride alone to Quilcene. I make good time averaging over 20+ mph from PA to Quilcene. I turns out Ken was right and we had plenty of time…. Oh well, it was still good exercise. (This is a place, if you need, to make up time you can, as the hills are small and the flats are long. Leaving Quilcene We traveled on another road I had never ridden on before, The Center road to Chinacum. This is a nice road except for loads of broken glass in the first 2 miles. Be careful and ride as close to the fog line as you can. The trip to Port Townsend was uneventful as traffic into town was sparse, but on the way back it was another story. It looked like the whole town was packing up and leaving. Riders take note if you are around here during the afternoon on Sunday. We crossed the Hood’s Canal bridge around ~5:30p, which is the wrong time. Traffic was heavy and as you know very little shoulder room. Please use common sense in crossing the bridge during peak traffic times and wait until you have an opening in the traffic. Once across the bridge Mother Nature decided to pay us a visit with the lovely liquid stuff. What’s a ride without a downpour? We all should be use to a riding in the rain now…we would ride the rest of the route in the rain. Mother nature did surprise us though, with a whale exhibit crossing into Bainbridge Island. They definitely are a fun mammal to watch! We finally finished at the ride at 8p covering 380 miles in just over 36 hours. All in all it was a fun-challenging ride… I’m ready to do it again…just kidding! Since this is a challenging ride even without Mother Nature, I am listing some tips below that if followed will help you finish the ride in the time allowed. 1. Tune-up your bike – Lube the chain, check the tires, tighten up loose parts. 2. Pack enough water for 40 mile stretches w/o service. 3. Bring extra tire, tubes, air pump, and tools for you to be self-sufficient. 4. Limit your time off the bike especially at controls. 5. While on Hwy 112 / 113 pair up with someone / group. 6. Plan on your rest stop being in Port Angeles – There will be (3) rooms in PA for your convenience. 7. Use the (2) bags drops offered for this ride; LaPush and Port Angeles (homeward bound). 8. Be prepared to do several hours of night riding – Please group up with other riders during the night if possible. 9. Have fun and enjoy the scenery!!! Ken Carter and Greg Cox are helping me to put on this 600 km brevet. They will be at various control stops with food, water and encouragement. They will also carry cell phones along with me in case you get into trouble out on the course. We will have someone sweep the course during the event to catch any people who DNF’ed. It is imperative though that you let us know if you have quit the ride. I do not want to have anyone that is not accounted for at the end of the ride. The phone numbers will be on your brevet route sheet. Finally, if you need to sleep before the Port Angeles stop, you have only a few choices. You can go to Forks and use one of several local hotels, ride on to Bear Creek (10 miles east of Forks) and try for a room there. From there the next lodging is on Lake Crescent, which I am not familiar with. Please stay at Forks only as a last resort. You will have your work cut out for you the next day (170+ miles).

Pete Bajema

Back To Top

RIDES AGAIN

Volume 4 Issue 4 - April 1999

Members Corner
PBP Tidbits - April
300 km Brevet Make-up
300 km Brevet Summary
Wenatchee 300 km summary
Fleche 99 Review
NW Fleche 99 Pictures