Seattle to Portland, 2009
Tuesday, 14. July 2009, 17:01:03
This year, the Seattle To Portland (STP) Bicycle Classic celebrated its thirtieth anniversary. This was Steph's sixth STP in a row and my ninth. It was our fifth "one day" in a row.
At 200+ miles (320+ km), most people take two days to complete the entire course. Towns along the way open their doors to riders, letting them camp outdoors, sleep in host families' houses, at churches, and so on. Steph rode her first STP in two days and pointed out that stopping for the night does NO good. Your legs feel awful about two thirds of the way into the ride. And the next morning they still feel awful. Since then, we've always done it in one day.
It went well on Saturday despite our own misgivings. Steph's work schedule hasn't allowed her much training time, but she's gotten a little bit done. We hit the road extra early, took it easy, and finished in a reasonable amount of time. The plan was sound, but some variables fall outside a rider's purview, e.g., weather and flat tires. We were both feeling the weather in the afternoon. It was pushing into the high 80's (about 30C) with a major headwind, which makes you tire much faster. We also had one section where Steph had three (yes, three!) flat tires in a row.
Fixing flats on her bike is a chore because of the wheel-tire combo she uses. Michelin bicycle tires are designed to fit snugly so they can be hard to pop onto and off of a rim. Her wheels have a slightly over-sized rim, compounding the conundrum of how best to mount tires and tubes. You have to be very careful not to pinch the inner tube while changing it. Most wheel/tire combos take a couple of minutes to mount. Steph's take about five or ten to do it right. It's worth the extra effort because she has rarely had any flats. Saturday was a major exception!
The first time her tire went flat, we just changed it very carefully (twenty minutes). Then it went flat again (ten more minutes). We changed it a third time. That third time we were extra careful (twenty minutes), and the third tube's valve broke. Tube casualties now numbered three. By this point, one of the aid vehicles had finally shown up with a decent pump and yet another replacement tube. We gathered ourselves, took a deep breath, screamed at a few innocent bystanders, threatened some innocent wild animals, and spent ten more minutes on it. We finally had stable tire pressure again, but we'd burned an entire hour futzing with a five minute job. After that, we hit some harsh headwinds. Our cruising speed dropped by about 3 MPH (5 km/h) so we easily lost another hour just fighting the wind.
These are the times when you have to dig deep to keep going. And we had found that incentive the night before the ride. We watched a show about the Badwater Ultramarathon. Runners cover 138 miles (220 km) from one end of California's Death Valley to the other. They hire their own support teams so competing is an expensive venture. There is no major media coverage. There is no prize money. So why do it? One runner said that the beer at the finish line is the best beer you'll ever taste.
"Cold beer" was our mantra. We kept telling ourselves that there would be some amazing beer at the finish line. Fortune finally smiled on us at 138 miles (220 km), the same distance as the Badwater course. We ran into our dear friend Diana. Times past, we've ridden with her for the entire route. Diana always leaves from the official start line. This year, however, Steph and I left from our house. We also headed out earlier than Diana did. No worries, though, she knows so many people it wasn't a problem for her to find other folks to ride with. It just so happened that all three of us we were at Castle Rock, Washington, at the same time.
Steph and I were now actually glad to have been delayed, otherwise we'd never have seen Diana out on the road. Our newly reunited trio plodded onward into the wind until the course crossed into Oregon. That's where it headed northwards for a ways. With 45 miles to go, we finally had a tailwind. Time breezed by and the miles melted away without additional drama.
The best part really was the ice cold beer at the finish line. Good times and great beer made it worth the effort.
At 200+ miles (320+ km), most people take two days to complete the entire course. Towns along the way open their doors to riders, letting them camp outdoors, sleep in host families' houses, at churches, and so on. Steph rode her first STP in two days and pointed out that stopping for the night does NO good. Your legs feel awful about two thirds of the way into the ride. And the next morning they still feel awful. Since then, we've always done it in one day.
It went well on Saturday despite our own misgivings. Steph's work schedule hasn't allowed her much training time, but she's gotten a little bit done. We hit the road extra early, took it easy, and finished in a reasonable amount of time. The plan was sound, but some variables fall outside a rider's purview, e.g., weather and flat tires. We were both feeling the weather in the afternoon. It was pushing into the high 80's (about 30C) with a major headwind, which makes you tire much faster. We also had one section where Steph had three (yes, three!) flat tires in a row.
Fixing flats on her bike is a chore because of the wheel-tire combo she uses. Michelin bicycle tires are designed to fit snugly so they can be hard to pop onto and off of a rim. Her wheels have a slightly over-sized rim, compounding the conundrum of how best to mount tires and tubes. You have to be very careful not to pinch the inner tube while changing it. Most wheel/tire combos take a couple of minutes to mount. Steph's take about five or ten to do it right. It's worth the extra effort because she has rarely had any flats. Saturday was a major exception!
The first time her tire went flat, we just changed it very carefully (twenty minutes). Then it went flat again (ten more minutes). We changed it a third time. That third time we were extra careful (twenty minutes), and the third tube's valve broke. Tube casualties now numbered three. By this point, one of the aid vehicles had finally shown up with a decent pump and yet another replacement tube. We gathered ourselves, took a deep breath, screamed at a few innocent bystanders, threatened some innocent wild animals, and spent ten more minutes on it. We finally had stable tire pressure again, but we'd burned an entire hour futzing with a five minute job. After that, we hit some harsh headwinds. Our cruising speed dropped by about 3 MPH (5 km/h) so we easily lost another hour just fighting the wind.
These are the times when you have to dig deep to keep going. And we had found that incentive the night before the ride. We watched a show about the Badwater Ultramarathon. Runners cover 138 miles (220 km) from one end of California's Death Valley to the other. They hire their own support teams so competing is an expensive venture. There is no major media coverage. There is no prize money. So why do it? One runner said that the beer at the finish line is the best beer you'll ever taste.
"Cold beer" was our mantra. We kept telling ourselves that there would be some amazing beer at the finish line. Fortune finally smiled on us at 138 miles (220 km), the same distance as the Badwater course. We ran into our dear friend Diana. Times past, we've ridden with her for the entire route. Diana always leaves from the official start line. This year, however, Steph and I left from our house. We also headed out earlier than Diana did. No worries, though, she knows so many people it wasn't a problem for her to find other folks to ride with. It just so happened that all three of us we were at Castle Rock, Washington, at the same time.
Steph and I were now actually glad to have been delayed, otherwise we'd never have seen Diana out on the road. Our newly reunited trio plodded onward into the wind until the course crossed into Oregon. That's where it headed northwards for a ways. With 45 miles to go, we finally had a tailwind. Time breezed by and the miles melted away without additional drama.
The best part really was the ice cold beer at the finish line. Good times and great beer made it worth the effort.
WIDGETIZE
hungryghost # 20. July 2009, 15:27
There's an annual race in Seattle where you run one mile, stop at a pub, have a pint then repeat for the next 6 miles. The race ends at a track where you then sprint the 400m track.
Bonus points if you don't do the technicoloured yawn....
James # 21. July 2009, 00:34
My time was 8:39. The last five minutes were the worst.
Cynthia # 25. July 2009, 00:29