the plan had been simple enough - visit family and friends in Seattle, WA, drink copious amounts of alcohol, drink equal parts coffee, ride back to Vancouver, BC. 250 KM in one day. the most I've ever done in one go.
I took a small bag, a worn out pair of shoes, cutoffs, Mighty kit, appropriate cycling accessories and the Lynskey R340, hopped into my friends truck for the ride down and hoped it wouldn't rain.
a recent acquaintance from Montreal had expressed interest in joining me on the trip. he showed up on Friday night, in Seattle, having ridden the distance down from Van with no phone, no idea where he was ending up, and only his Garmin 705 (oh man do I want one) and a bag that was way too packed full of crap. he was forced to spend time with me and my old chums at a going away party whilst wanting to sleep/lie down/eat.
my glorious friends Heidi and Jermaine put us up in their home on Capital Hill. we hung out (drank) all Saturday and my parents took me on a quick trip to REI to stock up on provisions for the ride. I think I ate every kind of energy bar available, from Naked to Cliff to Lara Bar to whatever. I am, however, addicted to these Picky Bars that Chessa gave me. such is the fickle cyclist. I wish beer was more compact and hydrating.
Sunday arrived after a night of mysteries (I mean, something happened, but I can't be sure what). I believe drinks were forced into the past tense. Someone would need to verify.
after a hearty breakfast at Glo's, we saddled up, Colin on an amazing modified Nagasawa with couplers put in by a friend in Montreal, and his Garmin pointing the way North. (and his big ass bag facing south)
I'll summarize now, as the post lengthens. I wanted to vomit. for about 8 hours. I think I coughed up the sawdust that was hiding in my lungs. if it weren't for Colin, my pace would have been about 17 KM an hour. It would have taken me 2 days.
my friend Jermaine joined us during the first two hours as we traveled through Seattle to Shoreline along odd roads and parts I'd never ventured to for lack of need. the trip to Everett involved pawn shops, gun stores, liquor stores and strange espresso stands that seemed to be more concerned with the breast size of the baristas than the quality of the coffee. Jermaine had to head back as the road was getting weird and he wanted to make sure he knew a route home. and he helped with our only flat.
at that point the road (Old Hwy 99, for the mostpart) started to open up to nice views. we stopped for greasy mexican food at the 1/3 mark, picked up and rolled again, stopping for a bit of coffee and water every time I thought the fever might get worse. Colin was far too understanding, and I did manage to lose my voice a bit to really get the concept of my sickness across.
taking Chuckanut Drive was a genius idea, as the quick hills and rollers really helped to get my busted ass out of the saddle. The 2/3 point was actually where I felt the best, perhaps I was losing my mind. euphoric might be an appropriate word. I believe most of my thoughts went "go go go" and "you won't remember this". funny, since I don't.
the border guards though we were stupid, or crazy, and couldn't seem to get it that we weren't carrying any booze (where would I have room?) though I wish I had picked up some of this stuff.
the last leg, through Surrey, Burnaby and Vancouver involved the most climbing and had to drop our average speed.
all told the trip took 11 hours, 8.5 hours on the bike, with a rolling average of 28.6 KM/H for 246 KM. not bad.
it took me a week to recover, though I'll definitely blame the cold I picked up for some of that. the legs, however, still feel rough and gritty, like a drivetrain after winter training. and my undercarriage has stopped cringing at the prospect of straddling the Arione, much less any saddle. good thing we've got more riding planned in Lillooet next weekend!
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