The
STP (Seattle-to-Portland) was a couple of weeks ago. In spite of my best efforts, I survived.
Lots of ground to cover, so let's get to it:
I flew out to Seattle on Thursday, with Scott and Katy picking me up at the airport. I had disassembled my bike for the trip, but I wasn't sure I could get it back together safely, so I put it together Friday morning and had one of Olympia's
hippie bike shops look it over while we had lunch. Evidently I had gotten it mostly right, and we were good to go.
That evening Katy took us up to Seattle to stay with Darrell, drafted to be team "leader," and Jolene, who is smart enough to not ride the STP. We stopped in Tacoma for a traditional carbo-loading of spaghetti at the
Old Spaghetti Factory.
Darrell and Jolene were great, making us feel right at home. And they were nicely positioned, too. They live on a hill with a nice view of north Seattle and the UW (boo) campus, which is where the STP starts. We got up at 5ish, so I was able to get a picture of the sunrise.
Sadly, when I was deciding what to bring along on the ride, the camera was sacrificed to my desire to not carry any more weight than absolutely necessary. It came down to the camera or a spare tube. Easy choice.
So, long story short, this is the last STP picture from my camera:
Right, so we headed down to the Husky (boo) Stadium parking lot by about 6:30. After waiting for the team to assemble, we got started a bit later than we had hoped (7:20ish), but we were on our way. We got off to an inauspicious start, when Scott lost track of me and thought I was way ahead of him... after 50 yards. He accelerated rapidly and away he went. So I had to sprint to catch him and let him know I was still behind him.
That little bit of excitement behind us, we settled in and headed south along Lake Washington. It was a great view on a great, sunny morning. A picture would be perfect here. If only I had brought a camera!
After we had gone about 5 miles and were starting to get into a rhythm, Scott's left wheel suddenly decided it had plans of its own and started to come apart. That's right, I said "come apart," as in "trying to fall off." I don't know why. Luckily, I was riding behind Scott and saw it happening. He stopped quickly, and we assessed the damage.
After a half hour of searching, we found the necessary pieces and reassembled his wheel. I'm still not sure we found ALL the pieces, but we found enough that when we got it back together, it stayed together for the rest of the weekend, so... good enough, I guess.
Scott's rebellious wheel and our later than expected start had us off the back of the ride. There were very few riders around, and we were still in Seattle. Not good. We were in for a long day.
For some reason, my bike computer wasn't working (I think one of the batteries is going bad), so we were relying on Scott's. It seemed a little off to me, but I had no way of knowing for sure until my computer suddenly - once again, I have no idea why - started working. That's when we found out that whoever set up his computer had set it to the wrong wheel circumference; it was reading about 50% off. So, when he was doing his training rides, and he thought he was going 45 miles at 15 miles per hour, he was really going 30 miles at 10 mph. Big difference.
Scott did great, but those extra miles came back to haunt us later. He powered up the Puyallup hill and made it to Spanaway (just over 50 miles) really well. He slowed a bit after 60 miles, a lot after 70, and was pretty cooked at 75. That put us in Rainier, which was close enough to Centralia for Katy to come and pick him and another team member up. It was just too far, too fast, too sunny, and too warm, but it was a great effort, nonetheless.
Once I was sure Katy was close and there was someone to wait with Scott, I rode the rest of the way to Centralia. With light and favorable winds, flat roads, and a few riders in front of me, I hit the gas. I had heard enough "On your left" for one day. Short story, even shorter: I got to Centralia in a hurry, and Jean's dad Ray had pizza waiting for me when I got there, and my parents were there too. After scarfing dinner and visiting, it was time for a shower and a bed.
The next morning, I rode from Centralia to Napavine through a thunderstorm and met the rest of the team at the Napavine Rebekah Lodge's pancake breakfast. After Saturday's experience, Scott, Katy, and I decided I would ride to Goble, OR, and Scott would rejoin the ride there, and we would ride to Portland together.
So I headed south on my own. It was a fun ride, hillier than Saturday, but not bad at all. I picked up the pace a little between Vader and Castle Rock and between Rainier, OR, and Goble, OR. Sunday was cloudy, but it didn't rain again until I got to Kelso and the bridge over the Columbia River. It wasn't much more than a light mist, but it was enough to wet the road and make the bridge crossing plenty dicey.
After crossing the bridge, I headed to Goble to meet up with Scott. While waiting for me, Scott and Katy had a little time to snap a few pictures. They were nice enough to send them along. So thank them for the pics, and enjoy.
Scott with the Mean Green Machine, all wheels more-or-less intact:
"Draught Beer, Not Me":
I arrive in Goble:
About to hit the road, Coug windsock at the ready:
So I took up my position behind Scott, and we lit out for Portland.
* Note: Katy took this picture as she drove past.
** Note: If there are any Oregon law enforcement officials reading this, that first note's a damn dirty lie.
We followed the Columbia River past St. Helens and Scappoose, which put us about 14 miles from the finish. That's when it started to sprinkle very lightly. As we got closer to Portland, the rain got a little stronger. As we passed the "PORTLAND 10" traffic sign, Scott began going faster...
No, that doesn't quite describe what happened. Instead, let me just say, SCOTT GOT A BUG UP HIS ASS AND WE WERE MOVING!!! He passed a guy going up a hill, traveling 17 mph. After a couple of miles of this, I pulled up alongside and, with my customary subtlety and sensitivity, asked "What the hell was that?!?" Scott, without even glancing in my direction, just said, "I'm tired of being wet."
And with that, we cruised through a steadily worsening rain to the finish, meeting a couple of teammates at a stoplight just a few blocks from the end. Katy and much of the team was there to greet us.
Before leaving Portland and heading back to Oly, we stopped at a local institution, Burgerville.
Monday meant relaxation. Scott and I took their Wii for a spin, and Scott, Katy and I went to lunch at a pizza place in Oly called The Rock. I would like to note for the record that I managed to contain myself and never once pulled out my
Sean Conneryisms. I think I'm making real progress...
Tuesday, Scott and Katy took me to the airport, and I headed home.
All in all, it was a fun weekend, and the team met its fundraising goal, so it was successful in that respect too. Scott was impressive on the Mean Green Machine, and Katy took good care of us. I had a great time.
Let's never do it again.
"Draught Beer, Not Me":
I arrive in Goble:
About to hit the road, Coug windsock at the ready:
Before leaving Portland and heading back to Oly, we stopped at a local institution, Burgerville.
Monday meant relaxation. Scott and I took their Wii for a spin, and Scott, Katy and I went to lunch at a pizza place in Oly called The Rock. I would like to note for the record that I managed to contain myself and never once pulled out my Sean Conneryisms. I think I'm making real progress...
Tuesday, Scott and Katy took me to the airport, and I headed home.
