Bike MS 2018 Foothills to Foothills Monmouth Oregon

Give MS the Boot! Stomp MS! Our sole purpose! Thanks, John, for the pun overload!

Friday Amtrak delays meant I arrived to Rider Village in Monmouth too late for dinner. I filled up with hard kombucha and wine at the free bottomless beer garden. That counts as carbo loading, right? Saturday I rode 98.6 miles and the temperatures were perfect (coincidence?) The valley spared us the heat, headwinds, and thick smoke of last year. The route took us through rural Willamette Valley, including Ankeny Wildlife Refuge (they’re renovating the viewpoints!), Jefferson (the “big city” near my first-grade home), Scio (covered bridge capitol of the west), farmlands including a trees-as-biofuels research site and a creepy “quiet qarden” that boasted such loud birdsong that it had to be fake, and the tiny Buena Vista ferry. I finished in plenty of time to get my free massage and eat 2 dinners (pizza from the mouthwatering Yeasty Beasty and spaghetti feed with berry cobbler from the catered buffet). Evening entertainment included Star Wars movies, popcorn and candy in the park, but my tired self skipped all that in favor of sleep.

Videos of the Ride

Relive 'Bike MS willamette Valley Oregon 2018 Day 1: "Foothills to Foothills"'

Relive 'Bike MS Willamette Valley Oregon 2018 day 2: "Foothills to Foothills"'

This is the ride that started it all for me. I didn’t even know what padded shorts were the first time I bike for MS. I did the whole thing on a rusty Schwinn mountain bike at about 9mph. I finished after the route closed and cried the last 30 miles just trying to get to the end. Now I’m a top fundraiser, average about 15mph and finish ready for more. I still cry a lot. These days I might ride more miles, climb more feet, or face greater dangers on other rides, but Bike MS is reliably my most challenging ride every year. This is one weekend where hundreds of compassionate people touched by this disease rally together spreading support and hope.

On day 2 at the start line microphone, a person with MS read a poem about their experience, leaving the entire crowd with leaking eyeballs. This opened the floodgates for conversation with fellow riders and volunteers the rest of the day. Each person I met had a story to tell. I shared tears with strangers; the woman with MS who rode her first century ever on Saturday, the guy who lost his sister in ’99, the SAG driver whose wife lost her ability to walk in ’08, my teammate who only rode his recumbent the 1 mile loop this year because he didn't get a chance to train, and the young woman who was just diagnosed a few years ago and is scared of her future.

• Distance: 150.51 miles over 2 days

• Pace: cheerful

• Mechanicals: Just the terrifying moment mid-ride that I suddenly thought I put my bike shorts on backwards (I didn’t).

• Flats: 0

• Wildlife: numerous turkey vultures, hawks, a gopher, a busy barn cat, wandering chickens (do livestock count?), 2 very angry fenced Pitbull’s, and ample roadkill (deer, raccoon, opossum, mice).

New Viewpoint at Ankeny Wildlife Refuge

Photos from the Ride

Food of Bike MS

This is one of the main reasons I do anything. I do it for the food. 

Bike MS 2017 Willamette Valley Monmouth, Oregon

Another amazing ride for MS. I arrived to Rider Village late Friday, tired and haggard from the long drive. I met up with various SlugFish at the team tent, ate some pizza and shared freeway horror stories. I crawled into bed early. I slept much better than I ever had before a MS ride. I slept in my very own camper van for the first time ever. I enjoyed the quiet along with the easy access to a toilet (gotta hydrate!).

The next morning I awoke feeling ready to go, inhaled a piece of toast and started riding. I began before the official start time, which the organizer encouraged due to the predicted heat. She even mentioned that the routes would close earlier than planned, but didn't say exactly when. I ride slow, so I had to get moving! The first stretch of road felt familiar, comfortable, calm and quiet. The bucolic livestock scenes made me argue with myself; stop for photos or pedal on? 

The clear skies told me the Willamette Valley wasn't affected by the massive fires in British Columbia, but by the time I rolled into Marion a gray haze blocked out the blue. I didn't know the route changed from last year, and thus didn't know I'd be riding through my old hometown of Marion. I hoped I would pass a road I recognized. I didn't. I did get to scream down some speeding descents- 40 mph! Riding along a flat road that paralleled railroad tracks, a deer crossed my path. Rather than run away, the deer bounded along the road in front of me. The deer and I maintained a similar pace for a while. I watched it go from a walk, to a run, to a bounding gallop. I realized I never get to follow animals in the wild for more than a few seconds, so this deer gave me a real treat. She kept me company longer than I imagined, and then finally veered off into the brush. 

Temperatures climbed and still I rode alone. A goal materialized in my head. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to get to the Century stop, the spot where Century riders get a special patch, before any other women. A few men passed me already, so I knew I had a fighting chance at being the first woman. I also had a fighting chance at being the first "top fundraiser". Top fundraisers have differently colored bib numbers, and none of the guys who passed me had them. It was just after this new goal gave my feet more fire that pealing suddenly seemed impossible. Breath left me. I kept moving, but so slowly. What was wrong with me? I didn't feel particularly good all morning. My knees stung with pain, and my thighs felt like they were encased in lead sheaths. But this new level of slowness was of great concern. Was I having a medical problem? Could I be going up a hill? Was I riding into a head wind? I saw no hill and felt no wind. I sweated. Nothing could pick my speed into the double digits. I knew a woman would pass me any moment and all my effort would have been wasted! I pushed. I panted out loud. I grunted out loud. I started yell-grunting. I grunted as loud as I could. I passed a sign that a rest stop was near. Thank god, I thought to myself. But it seemed to never appear. I started counting at the top of my lungs, trying to distract myself. Finally, after what felt like 100 years and 100 deaths, I made it. It was the Century Stop! I was the first woman! I was the first top fundraiser! I learned that whole stretch was a hill, one that I couldn't see based on the landscape. Since I hadn't studied the route, not knowing it would be different, I didn't know where the hills would be. Sometimes just knowing is half the battle!

I thought I was going to die, but I turned out being the 2nd fastest woman of all time!

The next couple of hours still felt painful, but the wheel kept turning. Women passed me. My route intersected with others taking shorter routes. Finally, I saw other people proving this was an organized ride! My legs hurt more, my head and neck began to quake. The heat started to clog my lungs, making my breath hot and slow. I began to feel like this was one of those days that are only worth while for the memory. 

At mile 70, the lead peeled off my legs. The sweat rolled off my arms. The daggers lifted from my neck. Music filled my ears. I was back! I rode those last 30 miles like they were the first 30. I flew through the air. I approached the finish line before I was ready. I pumped my fist in the air as hands clapped and onlookers cheered. I crossed the orange arcs. Usually I want to cry at this moment. But, I had taken care of all the emotion hours ago. I didn't even want a rest. I actually hoped back on the bike to ride to the showers. 

The next day, I hoped on the bike eager to ride more. I hadn't really even planned on riding a second day. Usually the first time my butt hits saddle on day two results in anguish that only goes away after 10 miles. This time I felt nothing but comfort. I rode another 30 miles quickly, easily. My body needs to ride. It needs the challenge! This is my comfort zone. 

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Each rest area had a decoration and a theme this year. I loved that! I also enjoyed the new route. Day 1 riders got to enjoy the Buena Vista ferry. It's a short but picturesque ferry ride. I think those on shorter routes got to ride it before, but I had only used it on non-MS rides. 

Team Slugfish got to eat Yeasty Beasty pizza for being a top fundraiser, but I arrived too late for the good flavors. I didn't have much for breakfast the next day. However, iced mocha drink at the Wildlife Refuge tickled my fancy, and I drank 2 full cups. This new route had me reaching the lunch stop at noon (gasp!) instead of the usual 10am. I inhaled salads and chicken and tasty sauces. I drank iced tea. I snaked on fruit, nut mixes, and sno cones. I don't remember much about dinner, other than the server secretly snuck some tempeh on my plate (only vegetarians are supposed to eat it). It was worth the risk of getting scolded. Yum! I am not a fan of coleslaw, but we were served a cilantro slaw that had me going back for seconds.

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Overall, another great ride that was worth training for. I raised a lot of money for the MS Society, and I am still raising more. One of the hardest things for me doing these rides is thinking about the people who sponsor me. I know so many amazing people. So many of the people I know donate to this cause for me every year. Yet, I don't get to see them very often. I'd say I see most of my sponsors about once a year, if that. There's only a few that I see more than that, and still it's only every once and while. I ride the long hours thinking, how can I make connecting with all my amazing friends and family more of a priority? I don't really know. Fellow sponsor, if you are reading this know that you are treasured. And, non-sponsor, if you are reading this, know that you are amazing too!