Seattle to Klamath Falls - my first 1000km brevet

August 15-18 I rode my first 1000km (621 mile) brevet, the SIR Seattle to Crater Lake 1000K.

I typically learn something from every ride.  I particularly learn when things don't go well ... so in that regard I didn't learn as much from this ride as I might have, because the ride went well.  But having never ridden more than 600km before, and having never had a multi-day ride that started at night, learning that I can do it is worth quite a bit.  My confidence of being able to be ready for Paris-Brest-Paris in 2015 is bolstered.

 Cyndi and I drove from Eugene, picked up Asta in Portland a little after 2, and reached Bremerton with time to nap a bit before the start.  Not that real sleep was possible, but I think the quiet resting time may have been worth something.  The ride started at 10:30pm, with the idea that we would ride through Thursday night and Friday before our first stop Friday evening, 400km (250 miles) down the Washington and Oregon coast to Pacific City.  (Some people chose to ride farther, to Lincoln City for the first overnight.)

One of the first decisions one makes on a brevet is how fast to start.  Try to ride with a fast group for a while?  Go out slower to preserve energy for the long ride ahead?  A benefit of staying with the fast kids early was that many of them knew their way out of Bremerton, and I didn't.  Moreover, while they were moving at a pace I couldn't maintain forever, it wasn't that fast; I knew I could keep it for at least an hour or two.   Sticking to a fast wheel for a while meant building up a reserve of time that might ultimately be traded for sleep later, so that's what I did.  Before long we were a paceline, taking relatively long pulls, and I found I could take my pulls without getting too exhausted, at least for a while.

Fairly early on, maybe an hour in, a car gunned its engine as it passed us, then quickly disappeared around the bend.  A moment later we heard the sound of peeling out.  But it was probably not peeling out; what we heard was surely skidding breaks, because when we rounded the bend the car (presumably the same one) was off the road on the left, and just beyond it was a pickup, upside down in the left lane.   We stopped.  I could hear one man asking "is everyone ok", another man cursing at him, and a woman sounding a bit hysterical.  Since everyone seemed to have exited their vehicles intact, and since we hadn't actually witnessed the accident, we rode on.

I remember only three stops in the first 200km (125mi).  The first was the brief pause at the accident.  The second was an "information control"in Matlock, where we were required to find the brand of gas sold as evidence that we had followed the correct route.  We probably spent about 20 minutes there, taking time to drink and pee and eat and prepare a little more food to be eaten while riding.   I believe some riders who had come off the back of the group rejoined us there, as well.  The third stop was at Raymond, 170km (105 miles) in.  By that time I had fallen off the back of the group, and found my way to the convenience store alone.  I told the clerk that I imagined she had recently initialed brevet cards for the riders who reached there before me, but she said she had not, which was curious. After I refilled my water bottles and prepared a bit more food, just as I was riding back to the main highway I saw another small group of riders go by.  I chased them, caught up, and joined that group ... but it was the same group I had ridden with earlier.  I learned that they had found a restaurant open and had coffee, which took more time than my convenience store stop, and gave me one last chance to take advantage of their pace.   We finished the first 200km in just over 8 hours (means about 6:30am, so about dawn), and I dropped off for good to avoid wearing myself down too far.

Without the group I was much, much slower, but still at an acceptable brevet pace.  It was fully light when I reached Astoria and rode, at a slow pace, across that long long bridge.  There I turned off course slightly to have breakfast at Pig'n Pancake, where once again I saw the bicycles of the group I had ridden with.  They were enjoying breakfast at a table; I sat at the bar on the guess that it was the fastest way to get in and out.  The hash browns and eggs tasted great.  Then ice cream.  And coffee. The worst coffee I have been served in a restaurant, I think.   But I got in, ate a bunch, and got out in good time,  so overall I consider it a success despite complete failure to caffeinate.

Speaking of caffeine, and of food:   While I prefer "real food" when I can get it and eat it, I have increasingly resorted to highly processed "energy" foods on rides.  I first tried Hammer Perpetuem (a food drink) on The Big Lebowski last summer, thanks to my riding partners Susan and Lesli, and it worked to fuel me when my stomach was refusing other forms of food.  I used Perpetuem again on this ride, particularly at night because it's easier to reach for a bottle than to fumble around for other foods.  I also used  gels (Gu) and gelatins (Clif Shot Blox).  All of these come in caffeine-enhanced forms.   I would not have been able to hang with the fast group if I couldn't keep fueling myself in that manner.  Shot Blox in particular worked very well for me all three days of this ride, along with the occasional gel.

Near the end of the first day, I felt a second wind and rode several miles at a brisker pace, including a stretch with Theo and James.  But here I miscalculated:  Less than 20 miles from my overnight in Pacific City, the second wind left me, and I was much slower that I should have been to finish that last little bit.  When I finally did reach the hotel, I was too exhausted to eat much, and went to bed without a substantial meal.  Fortunately I had enough time in the bank to sleep almost 4 hours, and when I woke I was able to eat the chowder Cyndi had brought for me, and probably something else I don't recall.

I rolled out Saturday morning just after 1 (having heard that others planned to leave around that time).  I rode for a time on Slab Creek Road with a group of Bay Area randonneurs, and stopped with them briefly at Lincoln City, but then went on ahead when they chose to have a sit-down meal in the Safeway there.   Riding alone now, I rode on to Newport, where I found Newport Cafe open.  And inside Newport Cafe, Asta and Kerin!  Also excellent hash browns, eggs, and corned beef hash, and palatable coffee. Asta and Kerin finished and left before me, so I left Newport alone again.

I do not recall the next segment of the ride in great detail.  It was foggy and misty.  At some point I passed the Bay Area randonneurs as they paused at an overlook.   It cleared and became warm, and I stopped at Honeyman park to remove a layer and put on sunscreen.  Somewhere (around Waldport?) I had a strong spell and rode faster.  In other places I rode slower.  Eventually I came to Reedsport,  where I again met the Bay Area riders and others.   I had a tub of potato salad, refilled my water bottles, rested a bit ... and then off toward Roseburg, riding with the Bay Area randonneurs again for a stretch.

The Bay Area randonneurs organized a very disciplined paceline:   The leader was to maintain a steady 16mph and pull off at the next milepost.  In most pacelines I have ridden, pulls are much shorter than a mile, but I think I understand the rationale for these long pulls.  First, the milepost is a definite marker, much easier to track than a shorter distance or time.  Second, while shorter pulls are probably less taxing physically, a constantly rotating paceline is more mental burden, and on a long ride our brains are at least as worn as our legs.  Even so I found the paceline mentally demanding, and did not intend to join it again after our stop in Elkton.  As it was, we did not leave Elkton as a group, and the paceline never re-formed as far as I know.   I briefly rode again with a couple of them as we neared Roseburg, but not for long ... I fell behind and rode the last few miles pretty slowly.

Our second overnight was in Roseburg, and just across from Dennys.  Dennys was slow, but I managed to have another form of fried potatoes and a milkshake.  I was overfull, but could digest while I slept.   Two and a half hours?  Three?  Something like that ... not too bad compared to the amount of sleep I have had on 600s.  Asta, Kerin and I rode out a few minutes after 2am.  50 miles in, at Dry Creek Store I took some extra time in the restroom and Asta took a nap on a picnic bench; Kerin rode out ahead and I didn't see her again (though I think Asta did).  A little further Asta stopped for a ditch nap and I continued.  And a little further yet, a refreshed Asta caught me and went on ahead, skipping Diamond Lake where I stopped for food and rest.

The next segment, from Diamond Lake to Crater Lake, was my weakest.  Perhaps I over-ate.  Perhaps it was the heat.  Whatever it was, I was riding very slowly, and not feeling great.  I have ridden that segment before and know it is not nearly as hard as it was this time. Tired and uncomfortable as I was, by this point I was never in any doubt of finishing.  It was simply "relentless forward motion" time.  I stopped for a while at the rim to chat with other riders, and then longer at the lodge where I bought ibuprofen, drank a lot of water, filled water bottles, and used the restroom.  And then down, steeply down ... the decent should have been fun but I wasn't having fun, I was in some physical pain and tired, but it was nice to be making good time again.

Descents end, and one pushes on.  In Fort Klamath once again I met the Bay Area riders, along with the ride organizer, stopping for a beer.  I stopped for soda (I am quite certain beer would have been a phenomenally bad idea for me), then rolled out just a little before the rest ... and promptly flatted.  Changed the tube, checked the tire for sharps and didn't find one, so I put the same tire back on.  Whether there was a sharp in there that I didn't find, or whether I under-inflated too far and caused a pinch-flat, I don't know, but by the time I reached the intersection with the main highway into Klamath Falls, my front tire was soft again.  I pumped it a little and rode on to a better spot, a closed real estate office with a big porch to work on, where I changed the tube and tire.  (I carry three spare tubes and one spare tire.)  Clearly I was going to be later than I hoped, but I still felt like I was in no danger of missing the final time cut.

From that point I had a brisk tail wind and was able to ride pretty fast along the side of Highway 97.  Fast enough to not see something ... bang ... ran over it with my rear tire.  Listening for a hiss ... no hiss.  Maybe it's ok.  But a few miles later, the back tire is definitely getting soft.   So one more time, pull over, dig through my bag for my last spare tube, pull the wheel and remove the tube.  I inflated the flat tube just to be sure it really was a pinch flat, indicated by a "snake bite" pair of holes.  It is ... whew, that's good, because it means I can put the same tire back on and not worry about sharps.  Check it for sharps anyway.   I'm tired, I'm being very careful, and I'm really really slow doing this.

Just as I'm getting the back wheel into those awful horizontal dropouts, Roger rides up.  Do I need any help?  Well, if you happen to have more than one spare tube, could I borrow one?  Roger reaches for his tubes, then has another suggestion:  Shall we ride in together?  Yes yes yes please let's do that but I'll be slow yes please.  Roger is a very strong rider.  There's no way he should have been behind me, but he suffers from Shermer's neck.  He's had to stop several times to rest until his neck muscles will work again.  He thinks he can get in to Klamath Falls without stopping again.  I notice that he is sitting as upright as he can, sometimes using just one hand on the bar to be more vertical and reduce stress on his neck.    Even so, with the tail wind we make good time.  And then we make very slow time trying to navigate the small streets through Klamath Falls, as the bugs come out to celebrate evening.

And, eventually, as it is getting dark, we see the hotel ... with Cyndi and Asta standing on the corner to cheer us in, a nice touch.  Pizza, beer, a little time to chat with other riders, and off to sleep.

So what did I learn on this ride?  Although I had rough patches, I learned mostly from some things that went right.   Riding with the fast group was fine for a while, although I probably should have dropped off a little faster.  Eating what I can is better than forcing myself to eat more;  even going to bed Friday night without a substantial meal wasn't a catastrophe, while I might have done better to eat a little less at Diamond Lake.  Processed energy foods, and Shot Blox in particular, do work for me, although it's still better to eat more "real food" when I can.  Keeping a level head and not getting too frustrated was helpful when I experienced a series of flats, and earlier when I wasn't feeling good between Diamond Lake and Crater Lake.    Making time when I felt strong, and keeping going when I felt weak, balanced out pretty well.   I did lose too much time at a couple controls:  Cannon Beach was a mess, and I should have just gotten my control card signed and moved on as quickly as possible.  If I had eaten less at Diamond Lake, I might also have left earlier.  But mostly things went well.  I feel good about it, very good about having made another step in my development as a randonneur, and confident that I am on my way to riding a full grand randonnee of 1200km in the next year or two.

Alsea loop permanent (from Eugene OR)

This 211k Randonneurs USA permanent brevet, #1726,  is a loop primarily north and west of Eugene with a fair amount of climbing (you cross the coast range twice) and some lovely views.  The highlight is  South Fork road from near Alsea past Alsea Falls to Alpine, which will be familiar to many local riders from the annual Alpine Century, but there are plenty of other nice views along the way.  The last 25 miles are flat.

Note: Logging trucks use some of these roads (Territorial Road in particular) on weekdays.  I have not encountered them on a Saturday, but I cannot rule that out.  The route is safest and most pleasant on a Sunday.   Consider carefully whether you feel safe sharing a rural road with logging trucks, and schedule your ride accordingly.  

Map: http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1810086
Cues: http://goo.gl/1W8YR  (or http://goo.gl/Skodv for plain html)
RUSA permanent reg form:  http://goo.gl/zDwsb

The Alsea loop begins in south-west Eugene (the shopping center at 29th and Willamette) and pops over the valley rim on Lorane Highway, on the way west/south-west way to the tiny town of Crow.  Stop at the tiny Crow Market for a bite and to have your brevet card signed or get a receipt.  There is a port-a-potty outside, and despite the sign you may be permitted to use the restroom inside (ask nicely).

From Crow it is almost a straight shot north on Territorial Road to Monroe.  You will pass through the conjoined towns of Veneta and Elmira as you cross Highway 26, and will find supermarkets and other services there if you need them.  The little stretch of Applegate Trail keeps your time on the busy Highway 36 to a minimum before you are back on Territorial.   Territorial Highway merges into Highway 99 just at the south end of Monroe, where your second control is.  The Dari Mart in Monroe has restrooms and hot as well as cold food.  This is your last store until mile 72, so fill those bottles.

Just north of Monroe, you turn left onto Alpine Cutoff Road (watch the tracks!) and work your way west to Bellfountain Road, where on a Saturday or Sunday morning you are likely to meet Corvallis area cyclists out for a weekend ride.  Left on Decker, a little south of Philomath, and soon the climbing fun begins.   There is more climbing in store as you turn west (left) on highway 34.  You'll summit at the turnoff to Mary's Peak, the highest point in the coast range, but on highway 34 the road summit is only 1200 feet.  Then it's a long, fast descent, followed by several miles of flat to Alsea.

Stop at John-Boy's Market in Alsea to have your brevet card signed and/or get a receipt.  There is a restroom in the back of the store, and they have hot food. You can sit at the table inside, or on the bench out front, where you're likely to strike up a conversation with an Alsea local.

Just beyond John-Boy's Market, at the Post Office, you'll turn left on Alsea-Deadwood highway, and just a mile south you'll turn left again onto South Fork Road, toward Alsea Falls.  One of the first sights on South Fork is the Alsea Acres goat farm, which makes wonderful chevre (goat cheese), available at the Eugene Farmers' Market on Saturdays in summer.   Then you'll start climbing back over the coast range, but it's not as steep as the climb from east to west.   Alsea Falls is worth a short stop.   When you summit, the road turns steeply downward.  This is a screaming descent ... do be careful in the curves.  When you level out again, you're almost to Alpine, and soon on you're way back to Monroe (not a control on the return).   The climbing is almost over.  Monroe is your last chance for restrooms with running water for quite a while, so use them if you can.

From Monroe you retrace your route  a few miles back on Territorial, but this time you'll turn right on Ferguson, and which will bend south and take you past the Long Tom Grange.  This is an active Grange that hosts the Daffodil Festival each spring, and is locally famous for  fund-raising with its "Men of the Long Tom Grange" calendar.  Stop at the grange for an information control.  Just a little beyond, you'll turn left on Turnbow, and do your last little bit of climbing for the day.  Are those llamas or alpacas on the right?

The descent on Turnbow takes you to High Pass road, where you turn left (east) toward Junction City.   Now it's flat and pretty straight and, frankly, pretty boring compared to what you've been through ... sorry, can't be helped.   Before Junction City you'll turn right on Dorsey Lane, which looks too small to possibly be on the way to anywhere, but it really is on the way to Alvadore. And maybe Alvadore isn't anywhere, but there are a couple convenience stores catering to visitors to Fern Ridge Reservoir, and you should stop at one of them to get a receipt.

More flat ... I've tried to avoid routing you much along the busy Clear Lake road, but you'll have to endure half a mile of that shoulder before you turn right again onto Fir Butte, which takes you to Royal, which takes you to the beginning of the Fern Ridge Bicycle Path, at the intersection of Royal with Greenhill Road (just several yards south on Greenhill).  Now this is more like it ... a nice separated multi-use path all the way back into Eugene.   Where the path to Roosevelt splits off to the left, you bear right (crossing the canal) toward down town.  Watch for pedestrians and runners, and keep an eye out for heron and cranes along the canal.

You come off the Fern Ridge path just past Chambers street, across the canal on a little bridge, and then across a larger bridge that crosses 18th Ave and through the disc golf course, ending in a school parking lot.  Work your way left through the parking lot to a path that takes you out to Polk Street, then follow cues to work your way back to the starting point at 29th and Willamette.  In addition to the food establishments in the shopping center, there are food and restrooms in Market of Choice, the large grocery store.

Rando-curious: 200km brevets vs. century rides

If you are considering your first 200km brevet, your most related experience is probably a supported century ride like the bRamble, Alpine Century, Peach of a Century, etc. Here are some points of comparison:

Distance
200 kilometers is 125 miles ... a little more than a 100 mile century, but not an outrageous length. Note, however, that the extra 25 miles is usually at the end.

Time
A brevet is a timed event, with time cuts for intermediate "control" points as well as the ride finish. You do not have to be very fast to finish within the time cut (13.5 hours for 200km), but you need to keep going at a modest pace. Elapsed time, rather than time in the saddle, is what counts ... so those food stops are on the clock.

Paperwork

The term "brevet" comes from the card that a randonneur carries on the ride to document passage and times at "control" points along the way. At a control, you can ask someone (typically a clerk at a convenience store) to initial your card and write the time of your arrival, or you can obtain a receipt with the time, date, and location. At "information controls", you answer a question on the card to demonstrate that you visited a location where you find information to answer the question.


Food
On a supported century, volunteers provide you with food and drink at intermediate points along the ride. On a brevet, you stop at markets. Typically you buy food and get your brevet card signed at the same stop. Remember, you're on the clock, so don't dally too long unless you're a fast rider.


Support
In addition to food stops, century ride support typically includes a sag wagon. Occasionally a brevet may feature support at a remote intermediate point where markets are not available, but usually you are on your own, and sag support is unknown. In fact, there is a rule against receiving help from a person other than rider on the same brevet, except at designated control points.


Navigation
You get a cue sheet for your century ride, and you get a cue sheet for your brevet ... so far so similar. But the supported century ride probably features road markings or even volunteers pointing the way. The brevet route is not specially marked ... you'll have to read the cue sheet and navigate.


Cost
The fee for a century ride covers a variety of support expenses, such as the sag wagons and food stops, and often includes a portion for charity and advocacy work of the sponsoring club. The fee for a brevet is usually much less, covering insurance and the minimal support provided, typically including a snack at ride end. A typical fee for a 200km brevet might be $15 or even less. Longer brevets, especially with overnight stops, may cost more.


Light
Supported centuries typically take place entirely in daylight hours. A 200km brevet may take place entirely in daylight in the summer, but most brevets either start before dawn or extend beyond sunset (and some even start in the evening). Whenever a brevet is not entirely within daylight hours, a randonneur is required to have adequate lighting and reflective gear, as spelled out in article 10 of the Rules for Riders. Note in particular that lights must be attached to the vehicle (the bicycle); lights attached to the rider are not sufficient.


Weather
Supported centuries are nominally "rain or shine", but in practice centuries are scheduled in periods where "shine" is a reasonable expectation. The brevet season starts earlier in the year, and often extends further into fall. Randonneurs in the northwest are accustomed to riding long distances in the rain.


Equipment
The bicycle you use for a supported century will also work for a 200km brevet, provided you have lights if the ride will take place partly in low light or darkness. However, you'll notice that a lot of randonneurs are riding bicycles with fenders, generator lights, and front or back racks. You'll see a lot of handlebar bags, which serve both to hold the cue sheet and to feed the randonneur between controls. Many randonneur bicycles will sport fatter tires than racing bicycles, and randonneurs will be wearing shoes that make walking practical.

Down the Drain 2012 pre-ride report

August 25 was a good approximation of a typical day in early September:  Cool morning, warm afternoon just verging on hot.  If we are lucky September 8 should be similar.   A short-sleeve synthetic jersey with a light base-layer was adequate, and I deemed knee or leg-warmers unnecessary as I rolled out around 6:40 from home.  It was fully light.  On September 8 we can expect sunrise at 6:44, so those riding to the ride will need lights and reflective gear.  Sunset September 8 is 7:24pm, before the ending control closes, so again lights and reflective gear are in order, although few should actually be riding in the dark.

Many routes from Eugene start by popping over a small ridge that edges the southern end of the Willamette valley. Lorane Highway is one among the standard handfull of ways out.  It's a gentle climb, good for getting the blood pumping at the beginning of a ride, followed by an easy descent that can be surprisingly chilly even on warm days.   Lorane highway turns left at "four corners",  with the other two corners being Bailey Hill Road (to the right) and Spencer Creek (straight ahead).  Then Lorane has a couple gentle climbs and a descent past Fox Hollow road.  Some of Lorane Highway has recently been overlayed with unpleasant chip-seal.  Just past Fox Hollow, though, this turns to lovely new asphalt.

The cue sheet notes a fire station on the left, a little after passing Fox Hollow, with a port-a-potty.  Perfectly placed if you tend to take in a lot of liquids just before a ride, as I do.

After a bit Lorane Highway ends at Gillespie Corners, in a T junction with Territorial Highway.  We go left (south) toward the town of Lorane.  Alas, the pavement is bad, the shoulders vary from narrow to absent, and there are lots of blind curves.  Fortunately traffic is light early on a Saturday.

The town of Lorane is not a control, but it's a handy stop if you are in need of water, nutrition or a toilet.  Of the general store and the café, I prefer Linda's Café, confusingly labeled "Lorane General Store."  I bought a couple boiled eggs and a cup of coffee, and ate one of the eggs there.  They also have a flush toilet, and there are jugs of cold, filtered water in the white refrigerator, to refill your bottles.   It's also a good place to ask about local roads.  I asked about Carpenter Bypass, and the lady who may or may not be Linda said she wasn't sure but that the couple having breakfast probably knew.  The couple having breakfast said it got a little steep toward the top, and there were probably still some unpaved bits, but BLM had done a lot of paving a couple years ago.

At Lorane we turn right (west) onto Siuslaw River Road, but not for long.  And here's the first difficulty of the day:  The Carpenter Bypass, which is called Road 20-5-141on the 2007 cue sheet, is unmarked.  No sign at the turn, no sign along the road to tell you where you are.  I passed it thinking "odomenter says it should be here, but it can't be that one."  It was that one.  If you reach Fire Road, you have gone too far ... turn around and take the first paved road, unpromising as it may look.  You'll see a beat-up green electrical box on the right side of the road, bearing the number "27300" in stickers.  That's the closest thing I could find to a positive identification.  If you have a mapping device, you may see that you are at the intersection of Siuslaw River Road and Carpenter Bypass.

Must be Carpenter Bypass Road

You can guess what comes next:  Single lane forest service road with perfunctory paving.  Some climbing.  Some category two Mirkwood canopy, and some clearings.

This is working forest, so you'll see clearcut and ex-clearcut in various stages of regrowth. 

What you won't see is a sign reassuring you that you are on the right road, aside from a yellow warning sign that is an information control.  Eventually you will see a small sign at a fork in the road indicating Road 20-5-141, but it won't be apparent which fork it labels.  Bear left there ... you'll apparently be transitioning from Carpenter Bypass Road to Tip Davis Creek Road, according to Google maps, although you'll never see a sign confirming or denying this.   Also, you may notice that perfunctory pavement is giving way to dirt and gravel.  There might be some one-time pavement under there somewhere.  Some of the downhill was a bit technical on my 25mm tires.

You pop out onto Upper Smith River Road, which is lovely pavement except where it has fallen off the side of the mountain ... fortunately all from the other lane.   A large dog gave chase just after the intersection, but he wasn't very fast.  After just a little bit of climbing, there is a fast, fun descent to Umpqua Highway (38).

Just a few miles on Umpqua Highway take you into Drain.  Ray's Food Place on the left is a good place to refuel and get your brevet card signed and/or get a receipt.  If you need unidentifiable deep-fried foodstuffs, they are to the left from the entrance.  I had a green chili "burrito", and it was just right.

The 2007 cue sheet takes you to Hayhurst Road via Drain Section Road.  I haven't decided whether to stick with that, or keep you on the Umpqua Highway.  The latter is simpler and has a good shoulder; I've never felt unsafe on it, and in any case it's just a couple miles to Hayhurst.   There was a secret control on Hayhurst in 2007.  Since it is only ten miles between Drain and Yoncalla, both of which offer ample food-shopping opportunities, we may instead have an information control at the intersection of Hayhurst and Skelley Road.

The information control answer is not that yellow thing.  The picture was taken pre-modification. 

Hayhurst takes us to the south end of Yoncalla, and we drop down through town to Highway 99.  East past the high school, just a little way to Elkhead Road.  Elkhead takes us a bit north and under the freeway, where we bear left to Scotts Valley Road (following the freeway for just a bit) and then right (east again).

There is a short stretch of gravel just as a kind of warning, before we turn left onto London Road and the real fun starts.

Oh yes, it does.  More than once.

 There are two or three stretches of gravel.  They aren't deep, and they don't go on forever, but some of them are on climbs and, if you ride fairly narrow tires as I do, you will need to maintain a nice smooth pedal stroke to avoid slipping.  But then you reach the top of London Road (or maybe it's Shoestring Road by this point) and it's beautiful, smooth pavement in sweeping curves on a long descent.  Worth it.

And then that's it for climbing, until almost the end of the ride.  You glide down past Cottage Grove Reservoir, into Cottage grove, and then take the Row River bicycle trail on an out-and-back spur along Dorena Reservoir.  There is running water in the bathrooms of some of the parks along the Cottage Grove reservoir.   There is a small park with vault toilets and a water fountain on Row River Trail before it reaches the lake.  There are vault toilets, but no running water, on the trail as it runs along Dorena Reservoir.

New smooth asphalt was a pleasant surprise on Row River Road, which connects you from the Row River Trail to Sears Road.  Until very recently the shoulder was wavy.  Killian's Market is at the intersection of Row River Road and Sears Road, where you turn north.  The sign says "no public restrooms", and I've never asked if it's true, so take advantage of the vault toilets on the Row River Trail before you leave the lakeside.

Sears Road is mostly flat with a few rollers, paralleling I-5 north to Cloverdale Road.  You take a quick jog left on Cloverdale toward Creswell, then turn onto Dale Kuni, which takes you over I-5 to highway 99.  Yes, alas, you must ride north a bit on 99, and it's not nice ... then left onto Dillard Road, which will give you the last bit of climbing for the day.  Unfortunately the pavement on the descent is too poor to allow you to safely zoom ... take it slow and watch for ruts and potholes.  Dillard takes you to Amazon,  and a few more turns and a couple miles brings you back to the start.

Saturday will be a home football game at 3pm, so expect the bars and highways to both fill up whenever the game is done.  How long do football games last?  I have no idea, because I just ride my bike when other people go to the game.

Overall: Nice ride, some gravel;  you'll need to put a little time in the bank in the first part of the ride to compensate for time lost on the Carpenter Bypass section.  Food opportunities are more than adequate along the way.

Five Rivers (RUSA permanent 1587)

Five Rivers (RUSA permanent 1587)

This loop from Eugene to Lebanon, with a spur to Walterville, takes you along the Willamette, McKenzie, Mohawk, and Calapooia rivers, and across the Santiam. The second half is fairly flat, and climbs in the first half are mostly gradual. The first climb is on Marcola Road where it becomes Brush Creek road (familiar from the Eden's Gate 400km brevet). The second, and steepest, is on Fern Ridge road between Crawfordsville and Sweet Home (and an information control at the top is there to make sure you enjoy it). The last is on Gap Road south of Brownsville.

There are few controls on this route (Walterville and Lebanon, plus two information controls and the start/end), but there are lots of optional food stops: Mohawk, Crawfordsville, Sweet Home, Brownsville, and Coburg. Each of these has at least a port-a-potty, and Sweet Home and Brownsville also have running water.

Start at  Eugene Coffee Company near 18th and Chambers, or at one of the other establishments there (cues are oriented from 7-11 in front of Bi-Mart Eugene Coffee Company) and take Fern Ridge Bicycle Path into town.  Sadly Eugene Coffee Company has closed.  7-11 is charmless and their coffee is dreadful, but it's a convenient start on the south side of 18th.  On the north side, there is a Starbucks inside Albertsons, and you can pick up the Fern Ridge path directly to the right and behind Albertsons.

This route was approved July 15, 2012.   I've tried to make the cues as clear as possible (and thanks Crista and Lynne for good advice on that), but if you have any issues or suggestions for improving clarity, do please let me know!

Cue sheet
Randonneurs USA (RUSA) record

Map:  http://ridewithgps.com/routes/1272826

Click for larger image.  For dynamic map, use the RideWithGPS link above.

Five Rivers Permanent

Five Rivers (RUSA permanent 1587)

[This post has been superseded by a July 15 entry with the same information, since the
  route has been approved by RUSA]

This loop from Eugene to Lebanon, with a spur to Walterville, takes you along the Willamette, McKenzie, Mohawk, and Calapooia rivers, and across the Santiam. The second half is fairly flat, and climbs in the first half are mostly gradual. The first climb is on Marcola Road where it becomes Brush Creek road (familiar from the Eden's Gate 400km brevet). The second, and steepest, is on Fern Ridge road between Crawfordsville and Sweet Home (and an information control at the top is there to make sure you enjoy it). The last is on Gap Road south of Brownsville.

There are few controls on this route (Walterville and Lebanon, plus two information controls and the start/end), but there are lots of optional food stops: Mohawk, Crawfordsville, Sweet Home, Brownsville, and Coburg. Each of these has at least a port-a-potty, and Sweet Home and Brownsville also have running water.

Start at  Eugene Coffee Company near 18th and Chambers, or at one of the other establishments there (but cues are oriented from Eugene Coffee Company) and take Fern Ridge Bicycle Path into town.

This route was approved July 15, 2012.   I've tried to make the cues as clear as possible (and thanks Crista and Lynne for good advice on that), but if you have any issues or suggestions for improving clarity, do please let me know!


Cue sheet

At the limit: Bikenfest 2011

The 2011 offering of Bikenfest, a brevet organized each October by John Kramer, was a lot harder than I anticipated.  I knew it had 10,000 vertical feet of climbing, and I anticipated rain that didn't come, but it was just 200k (124mi), the shortest brevet distance … I expect to be able to do that distance in decent time without any particular problems, and with little preparation.  I like to climb, I've done 10k in a day before (on the Torture 10k century when it was put on by Portland Wheelmen, and nearly that on my more rando-like wanderings in Switzerland).  

But this wasn't easy. 

I had a rough beginning when I couldn't find the ride start.  We had directions for reaching it from the West, which makes sense for a ride in Hood River.  But hotel space in Hood River was tight, so we stayed Friday night in The Dalles.  I got directions from Google Maps, based on location coordinates provided by the ride organizer.  Those directions took me to the town of Mosier, a few miles away … and I didn't have the foresight to also bring the original from-the-West directions, so our only choice was to drive to Hood River and ask directions.  Then we compounded the problem by misunderstanding road markings at the exit in Hood River, and were sent back to Mosier one more time.  The second time we reached Hood River, we were able to follow the directions provided by a very helpful convenience store clerk the first time, and found the park, but the other riders were 15 minutes down the road (or I should really say up the road, as it started with a couple of climbs).   It took me about an hour and a half to chase on. 

Brevets typically break up pretty quickly into groups riding at different paces.  I joined up with Lynne and Lesli and, off and on, a handful of other riders including Bill and Jeff.  We rode a fairly comfortable pace, reasonably portioning out our effort on the hills in consideration of many more ahead.   Though a little wary of having gone out faster than I would have liked, to catch the group, I was feeling good. I was particularly enjoying some of the swoopy descents, except when the wind was gusty, which was most of the time.  

Scenery:  Excellent.  Photos: zero.  I had my camera along, but never took it out of my bag.  Otherwise occupied.  

My first inkling of nutrition issues was at a market in Mosier, near the end of the first loop.  (The ride is basically two loops from the same park in Hood River.)  Others were getting corn-dogs and other nutritionally balanced foods.  They didn't look good to me, so I just had a Dr. Pepper. The bottle said 250 calories, which is about equivalent to a Clif Bar, but of course 250 calories of high fructose corn syrup isn't processed by the body like 250 calories of fat and somewhat slower-digesting carbs with a little protein.  I had been subsisting on oatmeal cookies from my front bag up to that point, which means that my digestive tract already had a steady, measured supply of sugar … a sudden big dose of sugar was not what it needed.  

Just a little while on, in Hood River, Cyndi met us and offered me half a chicken sandwich.  That was a much better choice … but a little too close after the soda.   Still, though getting the sandwich down was a bit of a challenge, I was feeling good overall.  In the next segment of the ride, I was still feeling pretty strong as we climbed toward Parkdale.   Lynne started to fade on that climb, and Lesli and I decided that she was probably better off finding her own pace than pushing to stay with ours. 

Very efficient stop in Parkdale, then out to Dee and starting the climb toward Lost Lake.  It's about 1800 feet of climb over  maybe 9 miles or so.   The climb was not as steep as I anticipated, and the pavement was not as bad.  And yet … trouble was coming.  I made a bottle of Nunn, but still my stomach was not happy about anything I had to eat.  I was in a really easy gear, easier than I would normally choose for that grade, but quickly tiring.  Lesli suggested I make myself at least work on a Clif bar, which I did with difficulty.  I was drinking a lot (I finished the both my bottle of Nunn and my bottle of water before reaching the lake), but that and the Clif bar weren't enough to keep me going.  Eventually I dropped off the back as Lesli kept her steady pace, and just slogged on as best I could.  Twice or maybe three times I stopped for half-minute naps.  

The brain is an organ that burns a lot of sugar and oxygen.  When blood sugar gets low, it's not just your muscles that become less efficient.  You get stupid.  Only a quarter mile from the lake, I nearly headed down a wrong road.  I stood perplexed at the junction for a while till another rider, thinking better than me, indicated that we should go straight on … so I did, and followed him to the Lost Lake resort.  

There are some wooden stairs up to the store at the resort.  Several bikes I recognized were parked in front.  Normally I would have carried my bike up the stairs and parked it near the door, for easy access to my bags.  I considered that, and knew right away that I just couldn't.  It was going to be enough to get myself up the stairs.  I parked just across the small road and tried to think about what I should carry up to the store.  I was dizzy and this seemed like a complicated problem, but at least I did manage to bring up my rain jacket and some other warm stuff I knew I would need for the descent.  It was a lot cooler at Lost Lake than at the foot of the climb. 

Apparently I didn't look so good when I entered the store, because riders inside immediately started bringing me things instead of leaving me to forage for myself.  I didn't feel so good either.  Hot chocolate sounded like a great idea, but my stomach said no.  Cool ranch Doritos … now that was food.  I needed salt, lots of it, right away.  Jerky … that's something I'm not used to eating, but it's got salt and a bit of protein and probably some fat, which sounded like a pretty good combination.  It went down pretty well. The store clerk (probably the proprietor) offered me green tea with slices of fresh ginger, which was a little bitter but probably an excellent choice for my stomach.   I kept trying to think of some form of sugar that I could digest.  There were Nerd candies in a display on the counter.  I knew they were very sour, and that sounded like it might work.  I was able to eat about two thirds of a box.  

I was there for some time after other riders left and a few more came and went.  Lynne arrived, looking beat.  She changed, washed up, drank the hot chocolate I couldn't get down, and we set out together for the descent.  I was already feeling better, but not good.  Lynne is a cautious descender, so I leap-frogged her down the hill.  We were lighted up and in full reflective regalia, and reached the bottom before it was really dark.  Bill was just ahead of us, but Lynne and I didn't try to join up with him.  It was important that we find a pace that was going to be comfortable for both of us, rather than pushing any harder than necessary. 

At this point I thought we were doing reasonably well on time.  We certainly would arrive later than I had initially anticipated, but the big climbs were all done, and we were only about 25 miles from the finish.  Slow and steady was good enough.  

But we were not through, and there were some hills left, even if not big ones.  My blood sugar was getting back in balance … I wasn't eating more, but food already in my belly was getting processed, which was enough.  Lynne was still close to the edge, doing fine on the flats and on short hills, but with almost nothing in the bank.  One longer climb toward Hood River on Tucker Road was enough to put her into deficit, so we walked a few minutes, and resumed riding where it leveled out.  Onward. 

Slowly my legs were coming back.  Slowly, too, my brain.  Too slowly. Lynne and I were baffled why a left turn led us to an intersection of two roads which were not on our route.  We had no idea how far off track we were, or how best to get back on track.  I called Cyndi, who gave her phone to the ride organizer John, who had some difficulty figuring out where we were.  He did say, though, that if we found Barrett Drive on the way back, we could follow it to the next cue.  At about the same time, Lynne remembered that her phone has GPS.   We probably spent 10 or 15 minutes at this intersection, and maybe on balance that wasn't all bad, because both Lynne and I were recovering from our earlier blood sugar crises. 

Back … it turned out the road we were on was the same as Barrett Drive, just changing name along the way.  Soon we were back where we had turned, and saw Jeff.  Jeff said he was sorry about the circumstances but happy to see us.  He was worried we wouldn't make the time cut.  I was still confident we could, probably because I couldn't do arithmetic very well. 

Jeff is a good navigator, and so is Lynne.  I am not, but teamed with the other two, we were quite efficient in spotting each turn.  We knew it would be tight, and fortunately we were already riding pretty strongly, calling out cues and directions as we rode.  We worried a bit at one intersection when I mis-read a 1.1 mile segment as .1 mile and worried that we had missed a cue.  After a moment to clear that up, we pressed on, knowing by this point that it was going to be very, very tight.   I still thought we would make it, but we obviously could not afford any further delays. 

As we reached town, Lynne called out that she knew the rest of the way from having driven it in the morning … no more cue sheet, just go where she called.   Through downtown, where we saw Lesli and Sarah and they cheered us on.  Then the Chinese restaurant with the big panda, and even I knew where we were.  And where we were was the beginning of a series of switchbacks leading up to the start/finish point.   And where we were was four minutes to the time cut.  My confidence was sagging, but we had a chance. 

Up, around.  Up, around.   We're climbing fine, but now we have two minutes, and I have no idea how many more of these switchbacks we have.  Up, around.  Up, around.  It is now 9pm, the cut-off time.   The switchbacks end. And I'm thinking:  If it's 9pm, we are still on time if we reach the finish before 9:01pm.  We might make it. 

Into the park. Jeff is ringing his bell to announce our arrival, and I can hear Cyndi give a welcoming cheer.  I'm still not certain whether we actually made it.  I have a pretty good idea of how far ahead my watch is (it was reading 9:04, and it's normally 4 minutes fast), but not down to the second.  But now John is greeting us too, remarking on the closest finish ever, and offering to sign our brevet cards.  Maybe he counted the time we entered the park and not the time we reached his table, or maybe we really did reach his table before 9:01pm, I don't know, but our recorded time is 13 hours 30 minutes, exactly the time cut for a 200 kilometer brevet.  Much relief and happiness ensued.