Olympic National Park, Washington
Virtual Bike MS 2020
This ride spanned so many days that a recap is in order. That’s what this is here. What a year!
I met Heather in Loveland, Colorado for a reunion tour. It was the best ride of the whole series. Heather initiated this ride, so it’s only fitting that we actually got to do some riding together. I am forever grateful we made it happen. The struggles continues for people with MS. And for my mom, it only gets harder with every day. But thanks to my sponsors, Heather’s sponsors, and the society, those struggles are made a little easier to deal with. And for people who develop the disease today, most can expect to live a normal life thanks for the recent treatments this society helped fund.
Featured
Bike MS Deception Pass 2019
Team F5 is the first team out of the start line chute!
Lance invited me to join team F5 with him and his fellow work buddies. I rode Bike MS Washington once before and decided I would only do it again with a team. Well, being part of team F5 made it better than ever. F5 went above and beyond as a host. I felt welcome, cozy, and well-appointed. One of the team captains commutes to work from near where I live. The other team caption made his famous “loaf”. This “loaf” comprised of some 15 or more boxes of rice crispies, cocoa crispies, chocolate chips and a year’s supply of marshmallows. It sat in a large plastic tub, bigger than you would wash your dishes in. One sliced off what they wanted with a long knife. The treat was both delicious and strangely satisfying. He also made tasty (and strong) margs’ for everyone. Many F5’ers rode with their teenage children. Three other riders had white Specialized Roubaix’, just like mine.
Team F5 crossed the start line first in 2019 among cheers from riders and rumbles from the Harleys. Team F5 raised more money than all other teams in 2018, so everyone really had something to cheer about!
Day 1 Recap (more day 1 details below):
Highlights
Starting the ride first, as an award for being on the “number 1 fundraising team”. Hearing all the cheers and the Harley’s roaring for us.
The cheerful cheerleaders at the Deception Pass stop, “5-6-7-8-who do we appreciate-THE BIKERS-THE BIKERS”
The really friendly “Disney VoluntEAR” wearing Minnie Mouse ears who told us all about the route for the rest of the day in pro tour-guide fashion.
Watching birds crack open clamshells by dropping them on the bike path right in front of me.
Riding through crops with identifying signage; potatoes, wheat, cover crop.
The cornfield that advertised, “We have big EARS” and pictures of Alfred E. Neuman’s bastard children.
The lone beer drinkin’ dude on a truck at the Chuckanut Brewery’s nuthouse cheering us on.
The couples sitting out on their porch overlooking Padilla Bay and waving Pennsylvania style.
Aussie Bites at the rest stops.
The numerous volunteers who watched traffic for us and were fun and cheerful
The chapter president met us and remembered my name.
The large number of other white Roubaix bikes like mine.
That massive flock of birds that took flight right as we passed, turning the sky all around us black for a moment.
Stopping traffic to cross the Deception Pass Bridge, creating a massive backup and nobody went road-rage about it.
The flocks of people cheering their brains out at the finish line. This is how the rides should be!
Watching cyclists do the “I Ride with MS Victory Lap” and not turning into a sobbing mass. Although someone was cutting onions nearby.
The coolest SAG wagon; a federation starfleet jeep.
Riding past Lake Erie. I was born in Lake Erie. Who knew I was a west coast native?!
Weather:
The forecast called for 75 degrees and overcast, in line with the weather the whole week leading up to the ride. I felt pretty confident we would be treated with the same pleasant temperatures. It was the last minute that I decided to toss in a rain jacket and a fender. I didn’t bring and sleeves, legs, or any of my numerous warm weather gear. Murphy’s Law, perhaps? I could have easily worn more. Temps barely rode above 65 Saturday, and the waterfront routes ensured it felt cooler than it was. It wasn’t too cold by any means, it just could have been warmer. I wore my rain jacket the second day, mostly for warmth. Turns out I felt plenty warm, and the heavens blessed us by making the rain part of the jacket unnecessary. The best treat of the trip was the lightning and thunder storm. Lance and I got to enjoy the storm of the century from the comfort of my van. Lightning and thunder- an unusual display for the Seattle area, lit up the skies for hours Saturday night. Other Bike MS campers oohed and awwwwed at each magnificent flash. The soft rain puttering on the roof put us right to sleep. Then the magnificent bright flashes woke us up again.
Seattle lightning credit: reddit.com
Mechanicals:
None! Can you believe it! Lance rode his ebike and it performed like a dream! My bike gave me no complaints. It may have helped that a certain live-in-barista cleaned my bike up for me before the ride.
Roadkill:
This ride showed us unique roadkill, especially for Washington state. I rarely see any roadside death here: Opossum, rabbit, frog (belly up!)
Day 1 Details:
Day 2 Details:
Photos of the Ride:
The Viking Tour
Poulsbo, WA Viking Festival
I wanted to go to the Viking Festival in Poulsbo for so long, and I am so glad I finally did it. Street fair, parade, live music, historic scenery, donut eating and lutefisk eating contest, farmer’s marker and bike ride. All kinds of fun. There was also several things I didn’t do, like attend the amusement park. Super fun time!
Bike MS Willamette Valley 2019
At the finish!
Buena Vista Park
I sat under the Team Slugfish tent with my face nose-deep in berry cobbler and ice cream. I tried to chat with another team member when a high-pitched voice on loudspeaker told us the evening program would be delayed due to a rider still out on the route. Then she urged us to go to the finish line so we could cheer her in. People gathered at the finish line, not far from our tent. I looked at my watch. It was nearly 6:30. The course maps made very clear that the route closed at 5pm and that there’d be no support afterwards. I shrugged at all the people passing me. I’ll just politely cheer from my table, thank you very much. I rode so slowly my first several MS rides that I wanted to paste a sign on my back that said, “Yes I’m ok, I’m just slow.” I remember those final hours: smelling the truck exhaust from vehicles waiting for me to pass so they could pack up the rest stops. No one cheered my finish when I came in so late. I’d just roll into a quiet road with a few volunteers taking down decorations. But then someone urged me to get up, so I did. I guess there’s no reason to deny this finisher cheers just because I’m tired and bitter! As I folded into the crowd, I began to feel the energy. OK, so this last person out on the route is riding her very first century. OK, it makes sense now. The first century is the hardest. It was a hot and humid day out. The weather got pretty miserable in the afternoon, but she didn’t give up. Her first century. Then they tell us that this woman riding her first century is also a rider with MS. That’s what we are all about. I glanced around at the crowd. “She’s 3 minutes away,” the loudspeaker announced. Even though many faces showed the tired we all felt after riding a long, hard, hot, emotional route, there was still this unmistakable anticipation. We felt the combined urgency to share the joy steeping underneath the tired. “OK!” the voice on the loudspeaker prompted, “she’s probably getting close, let’s start cheering so she hears us as she comes around the corner!” The claps started, along with the bells, whistles, cheers, hoots and hollers. The entire River Village group stood there, cheering. I started to feel moved. It felt good to clap. But then we kept clapping. And clapping. And she never came. No one stopped, but some people started to look at each other, questioningly. Did we miss her? Did she make a wrong turn? Everyone kept clapping and cheering. I don’t think anyone knew what to do, but no one wanted to be the first to stop. Then. We see a bike turning the corner. The crowd exploded! I saw that she wasn’t alone. A small group of people pedaled down the chute, in a protective, supportive clump. That’s when I lost it. She wasn’t alone. Tears streamed down my face as I clapped. The people around me jumped and screamed like she was a rockstar. As they pedaled in, I expected her to smile from all the cheering. I’ve never heard so much cheering at an MS ride in all my 20 years. But her gaze was fixed forward, he glance unwavering. The determination was still on her face, she needed every last bit. She looked like she could vomit. Her expression brought all the feelings back. All those rides I did where muscles, energy, lungs had long gone and sheer determination was the only thing left pushing you forward. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or overly severe; it’s hard to capture this amazing feeling in writing. We’ve all been through unsurmountable challenges and came out ahead. It’s the beauty of pain like this. There is some pain that really does make you stronger. No, stronger isn’t the right word. There is some pain that makes you better. Perseverance. Stamina. Bike MS taught me a lot over the years, and I am a better person for it.
My White Bicycle at Buena Vista Park
Sweaty Selfies…
I never would have predicted this years’ ride after last years’ ride. Last year I reached a new personal physical peak. I felt stronger and healthier than I ever had before. This year has been met with a lot of fatigue and an undefined feeling of ick and sluggishness. Perhaps Slugfish is finally a fitting name, except the “f” is a “g” for me. I rode less in July than I had since….since before 2002. I opted to ride the shorter 85 miles ride for Saturday. When the sticky humidity rendered my entire body sweaty after just 20 minutes, I knew I made the right choice. I rode well. But that night I ate too much food and overslept by some 5 or 6 hours.
Bigfoot!
Shoes!
Participation was down by half. The ride had a generic feel to it. The decorations all had this 80’s motif that felt like “the 80’s package” from a corporate party planner store. I loved the days when the Harley riders had Alf and other decor covering their hogs. I loved all the SAG wagons adorned with signs and streamers and honkers and cheering volunteers. Now they are slow driving white vans that make you feel like you are surrounded by the CIA. I loved the decoration contests that each team and rest area participated in. I loved the sandwich lady, who had her own sandwich making assembly line every year. Sure, the catered food is more exotic and classy now, but it doesn’t have the same honorable grass roots feel. I loved the days when each rest area had is own unique array of snacks, usually promoting local brands and foods. I loved the ride-specific jerseys with their awesome designs. However, I did find bigfoot this year! I also rode by fence of shoes, so there is still a little bit of “Oregon” left in the Oregon ride!
The Tunnel Ride
Last year’s Emerald City Bike ride was kinda cold and a bit of a slog. I worried another ride on the viaduct in cold February might be the same. The weather cooperated well for The Tunnel Ride, however. We stayed cool and dry. And the snow waited for everyone to get home before it started falling.
Check out my Video
Check out my Photos
many of these photos are compliments of the lady Wooleaters. Thank you for being such great photographers! This was more a day to document history than it was a ride. What will this same spot look like in 5 years? Ten years? It won’t be the same.
Check out my Stats
RSVP (Ride from Seattle to Vancouver and Party) 2018
I first heard about RSVP when I rode the STP (Seattle to Portland Ride) years ago. I decided then that I had to do it. I mean, it has the word "party" in it! Back then, the rider registration filled up early on. It was such a popular ride that a second one was offered. Even though there were 2 options, the dates didn't work in with my schedule year after year. This was my lucky year. The Wooleaters decided to do it again (several of them have done the ride before) and I jumped in. There's something better about finishing a ride that just happened to be on your 'bucket list'.
Distance: 189 (over 2 days)
Pace: enthusiastic tight riding team
Mechanicals: We had a list of strange, but not debilitating 'mechanicals'. I lost my gloves in the rest room at the Lynden rest area. After looking for them I assumed all was lost, but Jessi suggested I check the food table again. After that recommendation, I saw them at the mechanic's tent. Yay! Bryant left his sunglasses in his luggage and had to buy a cheesy gas station pair. They were fabulous. Jessi's fender decided to rub on her tire weirdly. She stopped at a mechanic and they fixed it. Bryant stepped on his fender flap and it fell off. I decided it was due as well, considering all he did was step on it. Abby's fender also made a weird noise for some reason. Then at the very end of her ride her bell fell off the bike and she had to loop around to look of it.
Flats: I got a flat riding out the gate. Literally 2 minutes in. A thorn. Guess I was due.
Wildlife: There was much, but most notable were the black squirrels of northern Washington and at the Canada border. Not much road kill to speak of.
Weather: Smoke from nearby fires made the air quality dangerously poor, with the index over 150 in places. News mentioned breathing Washington air was as unhealthy as smoking 7 cigarettes and that the air was worse then Beijing. But. It lifted Friday morning just before the ride started and sunk again in full force Sunday after the ride was long over. In fact, the drive home Sunday exposed me to some of the worst air I've ever breathed. The temperatures were cool. I wore my new little jacket all morning both days. I could have been more heavily dressed, but I was also fine as I was. I've been inordinately lucky in weather lately.
Snacks: ride stops early on treated us with delicious muffins, scones and hard-boiled eggs. Each stop had stuffed Cliff bars, some sort of dried fruit and fresh fruit option. One stop handed out entire sleeves of Oreo's. Water was aplenty, but some of the spigots ran very slow. Overly sweet Nuun was available at every stop; I took some for the last push of each day. The Canada stops boasted a cookie in a Kiwi box. I excitedly grabbed several, curious what a Kiwi cookie would taste like. Turns out they were ordinary chocolate chip cookies that happened to be packed in a Kiwi box. I grabbed a Rice Crispies treat to save for Bryan. But I ate it at the Chuckanut viewpoint and it was delicious. The best stop wasn't a sanctioned one. Hosted by a family as a fundraiser, perfectly poised that the top of the last hill on Chuckanut drive. Known near and far as the lemonade stand, signs preparing us for the stop started cheering us on miles early. "Clap! Clap! Clap!" they said, and other comments about how awesome we were and how much we needed lemonade. They were raising money for college. I guess in years past they raised money for various camps, back to having their kids, back to getting married, and then on. This family grew up with RSVP going by their house every year.
Meals: RSVP had a clever option for lunch on day 1. Several local businesses offered a "ride meal" that you could exchange with a coupon attached to your bib. You could also exchange the coupon for $7 of food inside the restaurant. We chose this option at the Stilly Diner. Kreg ordered pancakes. I ordered French toast. My meal appeared, a tiny pat of food on a gigantic plate. Kreg's order arrived, massive pancakes bigger than his head. It was not clear how to options priced the same could be so different, but Kreg kindly shared his. He gave me way too much. I drank several cups of coffee from the coffee pot. This is a new thing I never used to do. Once we arrived in Bellingham, we ate at the Brewery. I had a too-sweet cider and delicious poutine. The hotel we overnighted in offered a breakfast in the waiting room of the front desk. It was pretty good. I ate Trader Joe's style hash browns, an English muffin, sausage, and a hard boiled egg. I did not have enough caffeine. The party portion after the ride in Vancouver boasted a beer garden. We sat there for a spell, but they only offered beer so I drank nothing. After that we had another food ticket for the food trucks at the park. After waiting in line for a long time at the choice food truck, they ran out of food so we grabbed some corn on a stick at another, but they wouldn't accept the meal ticket so we grabbed some hot dogs too. After eating all that food, we ate more at a lavish Italian joint in downtown Vancouver.
Videos of the Ride
Photos of the Ride
Many photos credited to The Wooleaters
Ride Details
Note that a programming error from Garmin made day 1 appear to happen on Thursday evening when really it happened Friday morning.
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
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.
Emerald City Bike Ride 2018
When you start riding at 5:30am in a heavy downpour with 30mph wind gusts...on a Sunday, you know you are going to an organized ride. When you see dozens of other riders on the streets with you, you know it's because they are going to the same ride as you...and that they are only going because they paid for it.
Beautiful start to #EmeraldCityRide! A little light rain isn’t gonna stop us! pic.twitter.com/UDQ0CrvpJq
— Cascade Bicycle Club (@CascadeBicycle) April 8, 2018
We started out wet and chilly. My Showers Pass jacket lost its waterproofing, so I layered another rain jacket underneath...that also lost it's waterproofing. My right arm has streams of water running down my sleeves within moments. I tried to prevent my Reynaud's fingers from acting up by lining my thick winter gloves with hand warmers, even though the 45 degree temp didn't call for that much warmth. It didn't work. Water soaked through to my hands and my precious shifting digits went numb before I even got to the start. Abby didn't have shoe booties and struggled having the same disappointing jacket as me. Bryant had a better jacket, but didn't seem to be any more comfortable. The cluster of a start line didn't know anything about our "souvenir" tickets and lacked the breakfast-y food options I planned for. What were we doing?
The the road started. Riding up the SR-99 viaduct opened up into quintessential Seattle; rain, ferries, the big wheel, The Space Needle (complete with construction), construction cranes as far as the eye could see, sea gulls, Elliott bay. We reveled in the glory of riding on a wide, smooth carless road. What would it be like to commute to downtown, safe from hazards and with views of the Olympic Mountains?
We rode up Aurora Avenue, crossing the Aurora Bridge. This infamous bridge is known for the tragic tour bus collision of 2015 and the bus driver shooting of 1998. Judging by it's outdated design, I can only assume many more died less sensationally over this bridge. On a bike, the bridge felt pleasant and delightful. The road seemed more accommodating on a bike than it does in a car.
Then, it was onto the I-5 express lanes. As we rode of the ramp during Emerald CIty's inaugural ride, I only felt tingling sensations of splendor with increasing magnitude. Today's express lane experience couldn't have felt more opposite. The cold wind howled. Water dumped in regular breaks from the breaks in the bridge above. The dismal view gave nothing to the spirit. And it just kept climbing. The deafening sound from cars on the freeway hurt to listen to.
Then we hopped into the tunnel. Fun again! Hoots and hollers, call and response, bells dinging. I even caught a guy writing graffiti in the soot of the tunnel walls. The day increasingly improved from here. The spirits of each Wooleater lifted. We crossed the finish line, and started the ride all over again. More people seemed to be starting the ride than when we started the first time. The sky got a little brighter, the air got a little warmer, and we started having a lot more fun.
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.
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.
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!
Bike MS 2016 Willamette Valley Monmouth, Oregon
Ankeny Wildlife Refuge
The Willamette Valley blessed us all this year with its perfectly mild weather, ample sunshine and low winds. I headed out early Saturday morning, in the company of the century riders even though I had no ambitions to ride 100 miles.
I really enjoyed the rest stop at the refuge. I missed it last year, and really felt like I missed out. This years’ ride jersey highlighted the refuge, so I wanted to make sure to take some time to enjoy it this time around.
A line of bikes taking a rest
Early on, some vandals moved the ride signage so a large group of us, including support vehicles went off track! We pedaled in the wrong direction for several miles before the SAG drivers figured out the error. A lot of riders were frustration and angry. I was pretty happy to be in the company of others. I can’t count how many times I’ve gone off track completely alone!
tasty lunch!
The worst part of the ride was when I separated from all the century riders to do my 83. That entire stretch until met up with them again was uphill, with a steady, penetrating headwind. That stretch was also pretty desolate, I only saw maybe one other rider for an hour. But then I got to the lunch stop and it was amazing! While I miss the camaraderie of the sandwich team that used to prepare our lunches for so many years in a row, this fancy catered food was a treat! We had Korean style marinated and grilled chicken, jasmine coconut rice salad, and summer veggie pasta salad. It was all incredibly good and I wanted to eat more and more even though my belly said, “NO!”
Some of the Salem drivers shocked me. Some honked and one yelled, very clearly, out the window as he passed, “Get off the road, asshole!” This was while I pedaled on a marked and divided bike lane. I wanted to ask them what decade, what century, they thought they were living in. Bikes are everywhere whether you agree with it or not.
The token Salem Sno-Kone
I didn’t see Bryan all day, who was driving SAG support on the family route, which didn’t intersect with mine. I also didn’t run into any Slugfish until the very end. The 2nd day made up for that.
Bryan and his SAG wagon at the distillery
The 2nd day was a much more social ride. I ran into Bryan at every stop. I pedaled with at least one or two Slugfish the entire time. I didn’t feel like riding at all, so I stayed at the rest stops for an inordinately long amount of time. I was so disinterested that after the first rest stop, I was 98% ready to call it quits. For some reason, I kept going and finished the route. The highlight of the 2nd day is always stopping at the distillery. We were treated with coffee-liquor ice cream cups. Yum! Towards the end we were showered with a little drizzle. It was just enough rain to remind us how happy we were that we didn’t have to ride in the rain. I also got stung by a bee on my calf. The rest of the ride was pretty good, and then it was time to take down the tent and be finished with another year.
Look! I'm on the list! That's me!
It was a good year for fundraising. In 2015, thanks to my mom's help, I raised so much money I got in the top 100! I got "yellow" numbers and was highlighted on charts of Top Fundraisers around the camp. I felt really proud of having those yellow numbers, even though it was my mom who did the leg work on this one.
Post-ride hurrah! Medal and all!
Check out my donor Thank You letter. It really has been an amazing year; an amazing 15 years.
Bike MS 2016 Escape to the Lake Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Waiting at the start line, day 2 photo courtesy @Roadkill Warriors
My uncle and I left just before sunrise to meet his friend, Dominic, and drive to the start of the ride at Moraine State Park. My father remembers us riding rental bikes at Moraine State Park one time when we visited Pittsburgh in my childhood. This trip makes this bike ride even more full-circle than I originally thought. We waited at the start line for the mass start, something I tend not to do any more during MS rides, but something that adds to the whole experience. We biked the residential areas, small towns, and fields of rural PA to Allegheny College in Meadville. After resting and relaxing from the heat and humidity of the day, Lonnie and I took the ride's school bus ride to the Days Inn. We ate an amazing dinner at Chovy's Italian restaurant and then slept away the day. The following day we biked north to Conneaut Township Park in Ohio. The would-be flat to downhill ride challenged us with a steady and strong headwind. After hanging out on windy Lake Erie for a time, we took a slick charter shuttle bus the long drive back to Moraine State Park to finish the adventure.
Riding in rural, rolling PA. Photo courtesy @Roadkill Warriors
After chatting with folks, calculating ride averages, arrival times, and other distraction-math, and cycling meditations (updownupdownupdown), there is just enough time left over for deep thoughts. Yes, today I am sharing thee deep, deep thoughts brought on by riding Bike MS Escape to the Lake 2016. Read on if you dare:
Deep Thoughts:
All MS rides start the same; inflatable orange arch, music, cheesy DJ cheering on teams and various fundraisers. Nothing will ever beat the start line of the MS Walk in '97 in Avery Park, Corvallis, Oregon. The walk organizer works all year to put on a walk of this magnitude. Sadly, just days before the walk itself, her MS put her in the hospital with no known release date. A friend put her cell phone on speaker and the hundreds of people hushed in silence to hear her voice from her hospital bed. She gushed thanks for all the help organizing the thing. It was such a small phone, but we all heard. There was not a dry eye in sight. I tear up just thinking about it. These rides are always emotional for me. I cry every time.
I got a flat tire just 3.5 miles into the ride. As I pedaled across a bridge, I heard something metallic catch on my rear wheel. It sounded like a metal leaf got stuck in my spokes, something like that. Then I heard the air hiss out of my tire slowly and steadily until I was riding on wheel. I stopped and walked the bike to the edge of the bridge. Several SAG vehicles stopped, not just because the ride has just begun, but because several other riders coincidentally had other issues at the same time in the same place. A friendly guy stopped to lend me his air pump and then proceeded to tell me about how he delayed his honeymoon on account of this ride. He told me he and his new bride in the truck got married just last weekend. They had plans too go to Disney World, but not until after they finished their SAG duties. He used to be a cyclist himself until an injury left him on the sidelines. I thanked him for his dedication and wished him a happy honeymoon. There is an awful lot of dead opossum on this route (day 1). This is ironic because opossum play dead, but sadly the flies and other indicators told me it wasn't a game this time around.
In biking with a pack of the RoadKill Warriors, they do a call-and-reponse chant, "Roadkill"...."Warriors" whenever a roadkill is spotted. The sight of a deer lead to a long line of chanting. They'd also chant a few other phrases, "How long?"....."Too long!" or "How strong?"...."Too strong!" I am not sure which they were actually saying.. There is a strong likelihood both played in the evening.
I have never seen so many families sitting on their porches, in their yards, or on their driveways watching the cyclists go by. While this ride didn't boast a whole lot of spectators cheering us on from the roadside, the porch-side beer-drinking tea-sipping folks more than made up for it. I tried to wave at all of them!
Roadkill warriors were a super fun and friendly bunch. Apparently they partied until rider's village shut down. I could have easily hung out with all of them all day and not run out of things to talk about. Cycling! Travel! Adventure!
That guy yelling, "OH GOD! OH GOD! OW! ARGH!" Was he really suffering that much or was he the kind of guy who just needed to vocalize everything?
I didn't see any teams kitted out looking all slick and fast and pro. I only saw one pace line out of two days, and it was clearly an impromptu one of strangers
I make noise when I ride. I grunt going across railroad tracks and over lumps and bumps. So does my uncle. Maybe there is a gene linked to bike-grunting?
The guy with prosthetic legs who hand-cycled the whole ride rocked it! And, yes, he had some big guns.
Molly saved the day! Her bluetooth backpack pumped out the tunes when I needed them the most, and her conversation was great, too. As was everyone on this ride.
I kind of felt like a celebrity. My rear-facing Go Pro got a lot of attention. Countless guys came up behind me to make goofy faces, giggling. Sadly, once they got up to talk to me about it, I would have to tell them the battery was dead. Sad day. My hair also got a lot of attention. I have it died blue. I also have blue tires, blue spoke nipples, blue valve caps, blue bar tape and blue and orange MS-themed nails. I kind of matched too much.
This ride didn't have any of the signs and posters on all the porta-potties and rest areas spouting facts about MS (symptoms, research, etc.) However, several strangers struck up conversations with me about the reason they were riding. It got around that I came all the way across the country to do this ride, which is kind of a big deal. I shared with them that my mother, the reason I ride, was born and raised in Pittsburgh. And while I have no memory of living there, it was sort of a coming home for me. People talked to me about their cousins, sisters, nephews who had MS. The people I talked to all had a loved family member who had been diagnosed in the past few years. Worry and denial seemed to be a theme, and these folks just wanted to talk to someone who cared as much as they did and and knew what was going on. I told them about how much has changed since my mother has been diagnosed. Since I started riding, drugs have been developed that can prolong the relapsing-remitting stages for decades, and really, the outlook was pretty good for their loved one. I feel like I may have actually helped put a few people at ease. It was weird feeling a bit like the old sage of the ride.
I saw Amish families in traditional dress passing by on horse and buggy. I chuckled to myself; this isn't something you'd see in other states.
On day one, after drinking a lot the night before, I drank 130-some ounces of water and emptied my bladder once. On day two, after not hydrating the night before, I drank 30 ounces of water an emptied my 5 times.
Nearly every intersection had 2 volunteers, and nearly all of them stopped traffic for us riders. It was fantastic to confidently ride through so many intersections. I didn't see hardly any Harley dudes. My uncle tells me there always used to e a whole fleet of volunteers on Harley everywhere you go. I agreed, remembering these trusty HAM-radio Harley dudes from so many rides, They seem to have once swarmed the country and are not completely absent. Where did they go?
There were some really enthusiastic rest stops, but no decorations. The team tents didn't decorate, either. If the chapter asks for feedback, I may recommend that. It may be a little silly, but it is entertaining.
I got a long string of bug bites. They spanned from my left wrist, up my left arm, across my back and over to the right arm, in a perfect line. They are large, raised, and incredibly itchy.
The first day was hot and humid. Sweat dripped from me pretty much constantly for hours on end. I couldn't keep my sunscreen on. I staged ice cubes everywhere I could, and drank a lot of water. I am incredibly thankful for my cooling sun sleeves.
The second day was much cooler, but we were met with a brutal headwind that didn't let up the entire ride. It blew off of Lake Erie and just kept on blowing. When we finished, we rolled over to a park and I was able to see the light green hue of the lake in the distance. It looked like and ocean.
Waiting at the start line, day 2. Photo courtesy @Roadkill Warriors
overnight bike storage at Allegheny College. Photo courtesy @Roadkill Warriors
Happy Cookies!
Food
Food is always one of the most important things about biking.
Snacks:
cinnamon swirl bread! Yum!
The typical PB&J, bananas, clementines, fruit snacks and Quaker chewy bars (borrring).
Pickles (what?! Who wants a pickle while riding? The thought of it makes my stomach turn!)
Snyder's of Hanover snack packs (swoons. I wan to marry this man, if he were a man, and his swarm of tasty snacks)
Udi's or Udu's or Umo's snacks or something like that. They had a tasty parmesan popcorn. This was not just any popcorn, it was "tender baby kernels of popcorn". Whatever that means. Tasty stuff, though.
Lean energy bars and protein bars. I can't remember the brands, but I ate a ton and pocketed more.
Lunch Day 1:
Super delicious pasta salad. They put garbanzo beans in it. Garbanzo beans are my current obsession. They may even trump pumpkin! Some forgettable sandwich.
Roadkill Warriors tent boasted coolers overflowing with IPA's and pop. Yup. They call it pop here. Home-made burgers and dogs, veggie trays with tasty spiced dips, tasty broccoli salad, and a variety of meats and cheeses.
Dinner Day 1:
Green salad, warm table bread, seafood linguine in some sort of flavorful beer bisque type sauce. The drink special, a strawberry lemonade moscato drink in a fancy glass and floating strawberries.
Breakfast Day 2:
Forgettable breakfast buffet at Days Inn. It seemed confused. There was an uncharge, a host, and restaurant seating with napkins. But the food was pretty much the same a the complimentary breakfasts you get at any old hotel.
Lunch Day 2:
The finish line lunch had veggie cabbage tacos on corn tortillas, pulled pork sandwiches on thick buns covered with cilantro and cucumbers, and giant skewers of BBQ chicken. This was easily one of the best last-day MS ride lunches I've ever seen.
Roadkill Warriors at the Ohio border. Photo courtesy @Roadkill Warriors
Lon, me, Dom at the Ohio/Pennsylvania border on day 2. Photo courtesy Lon
Finished! Photo courtesy @Roadkill Warriors
Emerald City Bike Ride Recap
The Wooleaters crew. photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters
I pedaled my bike down through the lovely Green Lake and Ravenna neighborhoods on a dark and early morning to meet the Wooleaters at the University of Washington. Every cyclist I met along the way was going the same place as me. That comforting sense of camaraderie among strangers is one of my favorite, most powerful feelings. A sea of people, hundreds of people deep flooded the start line in the chilly morning. We waited a while for the whole group to get together, then stood in line for an hour to get to the start of the start line. From the start we walked our way all the way to the SR520 bridge ramp because the roads were so congested with riders. You would think spending so much time moving so slowly would be frustrating, but it's one of the best ways to be waiting; waiting to do something you love.
Waddling the Montlake Bridge Emerald City Bike Ride, Seattle, Washington.
Once we got going on the 520 Bridge, the ride go really fun. The best thing was seeing families out with their children. There were plenty of tweens and school-aged kids, unsteady and insecurely trying to pedal bike that were a little too big for them. The cutest thing, though, was the tiny, tiny children. Children so small the didn't look like they were old enough to walk. Children that barely came up off the ground. Children covered in pink or blue and streamers and helmets, coats, light-up shoes and bikes all color-coordinated and matching. How did they even do any of this? How were they even pedaling? I tried to imagine myself at that age, not only being on a bike, but being able to navigate around some 7,000 other riders.
Crossing the SR520 Bridge Emerald City Bike Ride, Seattle Washington, April 3, 2016 by SheRidesToday.com
Then it was on to the express lanes. Over a bridge, down the center corridor between both directions of Interstate 5, and into the expressway tunnel. This was the highlight of the ride.
Jessica, me, and Abby on Interstate 5. Photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters
Me with my rear-view sheep. Photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters
I am not sure which part of being on Interstate 5 I liked better. Was it hearing the cyclists cheer in unison when we got to another cool part of the ride? Was it the amazing views of the city? Was it having the time to absorb Seattle in it's full glory from a vantage point usually seen behind a windshield? Was it the colorful, crisp and sunny day that this first Sunday in April was turning out to be? Maybe it was the strength felt by riding down a center road, straddled by rushing freeway traffic on both sides. The din and fume-riddled stench of all that traffic contrasted against the simplicity of legs silently pumping up and down created a sensation that cannot be described, only experienced. I took out my GoPro and held it in my hand. I wondered if some time in the future, one of the photos from this ride would be taken out of context, perplexing people for hours as to why so many cyclists pedaled on a desolate Interstate. Sure, I've ridden on Interstates before on bike rides like this one, but never before quite this way. Being surrounded by speeding traffic on all sides is pretty incredible.
Biking the I-5 express lanes downtown Emerald CIty Bike Ride, April 3, 2016. Seattle Washington
This post is late in coming because I spent some time trying to piece the video clips together. I used iMove which has changed considerably since the 5 minutes I used it 2 years ago. The video editing software was easy enough, but I had a hard time figuring out where to click and getting my mouse to click where I wanted it to. I am actually impressed with how well they turned out considering how barbaric the editing felt.
Personal stats for this ride vary quite a bit from the sanctioned ride. Less than half of my ride that day was on the actual course, due to getting there and back and following along on a quest for brunch.
Stats:
29.7 miles
3 hrs elapsed time
9.7 mph
26 mph max
61 rpm average cadence
Photo courtesy Chris/Wooleaters
Chilly Hilly; living up to it's name and then some Bainbridge Island, Washington
Cycle Oregon 2015 Baker City, Oregon
BikeMS 2015 Monmouth, Oregon
Flying Wheels Summer Century 2015
Flying Wheels 2015- that first hill
photo credit: http://www.woodinvillebicycle.com/pictures/
Saturday, May 30th began at 6AM with a begrudging half-asleep body suddenly transforming to the wide-awake excited body, the body that only wakes up when about to embark on a new and adventurous challenge.
Bryant picked me up right on time and off to Marymoor Park we fled. Disaster loomed when Bryant realized he didn't have his helmet, and already being at the start and the time being 7:30AM, there weren't many options to procure one. Luckily, Jessi, another in our group had a spare. I grabbed a packet of Wilcox organic hard-boiled eggs before peddling off at about 7:50AM.
Just ten miles into the Flying Wheels Summer Century, a long and steep hill out of nowhere kicked my butt. My heart surged and pounded out of my chest too early, and by mile eleven, even though these clear skies and mild temperatures beckoned a beautiful day, I felt like I had already ridden 80 or more miles. My limp little legs struggles to keep up. My new mantra propelled me forward: "tiny circles, tiny circles". By mile 40, I was certain I had been pedaling for at least 10 hours and we had already ridden over 100 miles. Well, I knew better, but my body was trying to tell me otherwise.
I filled up with too many snacks at Camp Korey, a rest stop hosted by Boy Scouts (it was actually boy scout moms, as I overheard one tired mom proclaim that her son was the only actual scout who showed up for the event). Hills seemed to crop up everywhere, and my little spindle legs didn't much try to get up them any faster than they wanted to. There was a nice long flat stretch where I was able to find a nice zen among the pedaling. We pedaled through tree filled forestland, thriving farmland and smooth, blessed smooth country roads.
It wasn't until after mile 60 that I started feeling good. I finished the ride at about 3:50 with about 6 and a half hours of ride time feeling far better than I did at mile 11. Overall, the ride felt more hilly than I expected, and certainly more hilly than the less-than-4000 feet elevation change. However, the pristine scenery, great roads, and challenging course make this a ride I look forward to finishing again and again in years ahead.
Flying Wheels
Bike MS 2014 Mt. Vernon Washington
8 Lakes Leg Aches Spokane Washington
