Going to the Sun 300K, epic awesomeness!

Joshua Loveland, Norm Carr, Rick Groth, David Hartson, Teresa Beck, Jason Karp, Karel Stroethoff

More pictures here   Results here

On Saturday, September 8, 2012, a small band of randonneurs conquered the Going to the Sun 300K brevet.  187+ miles of beauty, thrills, wind, and traffic. 

I was joined by fellow Montanans Karel Stroethoff and Joshua Loveland, and out-of-staters Norm Carr and Rick Groth from Washington, and David Hartson and Teresa Beck from California.  The 7 riders was a new record turnout for a brevet for me-so I was really excited! 

Brenda was with me at 4:30 AM in Whitefish to get everybody signed in.  It was a chilly morning, and it turned breezy on the way to West Glacier.

The climb on the Going to the Sun Highway in Glacier Park is wonderful.  It climbs at a very consistent 6% or so and only tops out at a little over 6,600 feet.  So it's quite a bit easier than the Beartooth Highway, and a climb any reasonably fit cyclist can do.  I highly recommend it. 

There was some road construction on the ascent with about 5 miles or so of hard packed, soon-to-be paved surface which slowed us down some.  We also had to wait about 30 minutes or so for a pilot car to lead us through the construction.  The delay was unwelcome, but the flaggers were fun to talk to and impressed with what we were doing, and after the cars went by we had the road all to ourselves for a long ways until the pilot cars came back down leading another line of cars. 

It was a bonehead move on my part to have the first checkpoint on the route at the top of Logan Pass.  It's not really fair to slower climbers and the construction delays caused some of the riders to be late into the checkpoint by a few minutes.  However with the powers vested in me by RUSA as the RBA I extended the opening time of the checkpoint due to the construction delays.  All the riders were back on time by the next checkpoint in East Glacier-so no harm done.  In hindsight I should have put a checkpoint at Lake McDonald Lodge before the climb and at St. Mary after the descent when riders would have had a chance to catch up.

The East side of the park is much drier and vegetation is not as lush, but the views of Lake St. Mary, as we screamed down the mountain, were spectacular.  Unfortunately, forest fire smoke, which has plagued all of Montana for most of the summer, was coming in and spoiling the more distant views.  It was also heating up as we headed to the ultra roly terrain between St. Mary and East Glacier.

We started off from St. Mary with a six mile climb at about 8%, much steeper than the Going to the Sun climb, and then had a few short up and downs before tackling the long and hot Looking Glass Hill.  The scenery was amazing, but the ride was suddenly really, really hard!  The descent into the East Glacier was most welcome.

East Glacier was an open control, but I think everybody chose Brownie's Bakery, Deli, and Store as their checkpoint at the advice of Karel, who had ridden most of the route the week before for his Crown of the Continent permanent.  For me personally, the cinnamon roll at Brownies had healing powers.  It truly was one of the best cinnamon rolls I've ever had and it really recharged my batteries for the final stretch.

The final major climb of the route, and usually the easiest, is Marias Pass on US Highway 2.  Marias Pass is the lowest continental divide crossing in Montana, but it was greatly supplemented by a 20 mile per hour headwind.  US 2 also had soul stealing fresh chip seal for about 40 miles to help add to the misery.  Thankfully, the wind died down somewhere around Essex where the course direction changes. The final mostly downhill run between Essex and West Glacier became easier.

The last stretch between West Glacier and Whitefish was in the dark-just as it was that morning.  Only now the traffic was fast and furious (and probably mostly drunk).  US 2 is the major East-West route in this part of the state, and there's no interstate highways, so it carries everything.  I was hoping that with it being after Labor Day, and later in the evening that traffic would be light, but that was not the case.  Most of US 2 has a shoulder, except for a two mile section where the road is jammed between a canyon wall and the middle fork of the Flathead River.  Here there is no shoulder at all and no place for a cyclist to go to get out of the way.  Despite this danger, the local motorists had no interest in slowing down even a little bit, buzzing by way too close or forcing on coming traffic almost into the ditch.  It was terrifying and something I need to consider if ever doing this route again.  There does exist a 7 or 8 mile detour, but that route has some gravel road.  When I planned this ride I didn't want to be riding on gravel in the dark, but I have since changed my mind.  I'd rather ride a single track mountain trail on a skinny tire road bike with a blind fold than go through that US 2 gauntlet again!

Everybody got into Whitefish safely, much to my relief.  As Karel and I were passing through Coram, we met several emergency vehicles running full speed in the opposite direction.  My heart sank as I was afraid it was on of our brevet riders.  But it turned out not to be-I still don't know what the emergency was.  I hope everybody was okay.

I was really absent minded at the start for some reason, first leaving without my bike computer, which Brenda brought to me right after the start, and also forgetting to attach my tire pump.  What are the odds that the one rider who doesn't have a pump gets the flat tires?  I can attest that it's 100%.  I got my first flat on the smoothest road I had ever ridden, a few miles from Lake McDonald Lodge.  I felt the tell tale bounce on my back wheel and announced to Karel and Joshua, who I was riding with, to go ahead to the lodge I'd change the tube and meet up with them.  They were just out of site when I realized I had no pump!  No panic, I knew there were others still coming, and soon after getting the wheel off, Norm came along and lent me his pump.  That flat bugged me all morning because I couldn't find a definitive cause-so I was half expecting it to go flat again. I pumped some more air in with Joshua's pump halfway up the climb and all seemed okay so I eventually quit worrying.  But just before dark on the descent one mile from West Glacier I hit a rock just right and knew immediately that I had pinched the tube.  Sure enough a few seconds later the tire was flat again, this time just as Karel disappeared around the bend.  I walked to a turnout and waited for Joshua, who was going a little slower due to knee pain.  But before he came along Brenda drove up after providing  "neutral rolling support" to everybody.  She had my floor pump and my frame pump in the car and also a report that all riders were doing well (I hadn't seen anyone other than Joshua and Karel since that morning so I was very happy to hear this).  Just as I was pumping back up, Joshua came rolling down the hill soon followed by Teresa and David. We had a happy reunion in West Glacier.  So now I had my pump, but slowly began to realize I had no more good tubes-just the punctured ones and a patch kit.  Karel stayed close the rest of the way and fortunately I had no more problems.

Many thanks to everyone who came out.  It was really neat to have riders from other states join us and to  have Joshua back for his second brevet after doing the 200K a couple of weeks ago.  A special thank you to Karel for his detailed ride report from the previous week.  He warned us about the road construction, pointed out where the best places to get food and drink were, and advised us about the danger on US 2.  And finally, a big thanks to my wife Brenda for getting up extra early to take care of the paperwork at the start and checking on everybody in the early evening.  I could not do this RBA thing without her!

Riding along the Musselshell River...and not in it!

The start of day 2. I'm not as angelic as I appear!

More Photos Here

Central Montana has been ravaged by floods from record snow pack and rainfall this spring. One week before my scheduled 600K brevet, a significant portion of US Highway 12 between Harlowton and Roundup was underwater. Alternate routes, of which there are very few, were being contemplated as my final Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) qualifying brevet hung in the balance.

Fortunately, the waters receded just enough and the Musselshell River 600K brevet route was open for business on June 18-19, 2011. Now all we had to do was ride the 375 miles within the 40 hour time limit.

Brenda, Jackson, Ernie, and I rendezvoused with fellow PBP hopefuls Ken Billingsley and Karel Stroethoff on Friday night at the quaint Countryside Inn in the quaint town of Harlowton-pretty close to the center of the State of Montana. A cloudy day had given way to a pleasant evening and the forecast for Saturday looked good (just a chance of showers and thunderstorms in the afternoon). As for Sunday…well at this point that was too far off to worry about (one of the strategies for completing these long rides is to not look too far ahead).

5:00 AM Saturday morning showed up with temperatures in the mid-40’s and an almost imperceptible west breeze. The sun was coming up and as promised it looked like a beautiful day. We sped along US-12 toward Roundup along with the swollen Musselshell.

The devastation of the recent floods was all around. The smell along the river was not pleasant with all the stagnant water everywhere-kind of like a wet dog that just rolled in a manure pile. We could see where the water had been over the road, with the river levels just a couple of feet lower now. We didn't see much of Roundup because we stopped at the first gas station in town, but there were flooded properties and the washed out former Milwaukee Railroad grade that appeared to serve as a dike. It was a pretty big mess.
Fixing Karel's first flat in the Bull Mountains along Highway 87

After a short rest in Roundup we had a long stretch on the much busier, but also shouldered US Highway 87 to Billings. Lots of debris, glass, and chewed up tire bits on the shoulder-so inevitably flat tires. Karel got the first flat, somewhere in the Bull Mountains. Later on I got one on the high plains outside of Billings. A sharp piece of steel belted radial was quickly discovered as the culprit. Unfortunately, as with my Cody brevet a few weeks ago, I didn’t do the change job properly and promptly flatted again about a mile down the road. The valve stem didn’t seat right. I thought it would work itself out. It did, by slamming against the inside of my rim and flatting immediately. The second change went better and we were on our way-but I was pretty flustered. It took until the city limits of Billings to finally calm down and start trusting my tire again.

We were still together as we rode through Billings Heights to Airport Road along the Rimrocks to the infamous Zimmerman Trail-a very short, but busy and narrow switch back descent to the valley floor below. We were able to easily exceed the speed limit and stay with the cars on the way down. A few hours later we would have to go up Zimmerman Trail-that would be a whole different kind of experience!

Ken and I lost Karel a few miles later. One minute we could see him about a quarter of a mile behind us and the next minute he was completely out of site. It was only about 6 or 7 miles to Ken’s house and our next rest stop, so we decided to press on . Karel has ridden 10’s of thousands of kilometers of brevets over the years-we knew he was equipped to take care of himself, and we were close enough to dispatch a volunteer to go find him if necessary. Heath and Brenda and the flag of Brittany-a region of France on the PBP route

Ken and his wife Heath live on the top of a hill off Buffalo Trail Road, north of Laurel. It’s a beautiful area to ride with a nice new paved road and no traffic. We were greeted at their house by my Mom and Dad who had driven over from Belgrade earlier in the day, Brenda, Jackson and Ernie who came in from Harlowton that morning, and Heath, who had the place all decorated with memorabilia from Ken’s five previous PBP’s. Big delicious grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches were served up and life was good! An approaching thunderstorm after lunch. We should have waited it out.

Karel showed up just about the time we thought we should go look for him. His rear tire had developed a slow leak and he had to stop several times to pump it back up.

As we finished lunch, thunderstorms were brewing all around. Ken and I decided to press on-randonneurs are always trying to keep forward momentum as the clock is always ticking-despite some crackling thunder overhead. Karel was working on his tire, but bid us to go on. It almost proved to be a fateful decision. As we turned on Molt Road to head back to Billings the skies opened up and a cold drenching rain came down. There was also a brilliant flash of lightning and immediate clap of thunder that nearly scared us out of our wits. The lightning didn’t strike anything, but looking around on the open plains, we were about the tallest things around (and I’m quite a bit taller than Ken!) Fortunately, the storm was over just about as fast as it started. As we descended back to Billings we dried out pretty quickly.

The climb back up the mile long Zimmerman Trail was not as terrifying as I had been imagining over the last several months. The cars and pickups came by in clumps of 4 or 5 as they were released by the stop light at the bottom of the hill, and they were only going about 20-25 mph so even though they were close enough to reach out and touch I never felt in danger. We made short work of the climb and got back on the high plains to Lavina.

Ken, who was riding a little faster than me at this point went on ahead and I settled into a steady but conservative pace for the 40 or so miles Lavina. There was a lot of standing water in the fields on both sides of the wide shouldered road-providing great mosquito habitat. I had to abandon a “nature break” because hundreds of bugs feasted upon me the second I came to a stop.

Brenda and Mom and Dad set up a control at Lavina which gave us the opportunity to refuel and get ready for night riding back on US 12 to Harlowton. Ken was just leaving Lavina as I pulled in. Karel was a ways behind as he ran over a construction screw just outside of Billings and ruined the new tire he had just installed at Ken’s house. Fortunately, Brenda happened along at the same time and she had his old tire. Karel was having a rough day, but Brenda reported he was still in good spirits.

The ride back to Harlowton was slow as it was uphill and into a light headwind, but it was a pleasant evening, and the only thing I had to share the road with were mule deer. Night bicycle riding can really be wonderful.

Karel who was still a ways back told Brenda he was going to try to press on after Harlowton. He didn’t reserve a motel room for Saturday night-but he did have his van which he could rest in if he wanted. Ken and I on the other hand agreed to set out again at 5AM on Sunday morning to finish off the last 200K. I ate a little snack, hit the bed, and slept fitfully for about three hours-getting up before the alarm went off at 4AM. It was in the 50’s but raining lightly. I wasn’t feeling too great and had no appetite-just nibbling on some junk food for breakfast.

I was slightly dreading the next 57 miles to White Sulphur Springs. We would be riding into the Castle Mountains and there was some serious climbing ahead. After riding together for the first 20 miles or so, Ken set off ahead and was soon out of sight. I was feeling really sluggish and in a pre-bonk state. No fuel this morning was not going to work for me. Fortunately, Brenda had made me a Nutella-bagel sandwich which I had in my jersey pocket. That had just enough calories to re-light my fire and get me moving-although slowly. The road conditions were terrible and rain was still drizzling down as I climbed to the small community of Checkerboard. After Checkerboard the road got much better, with a shoulder, but the climbing got more intense and the rain came down hard for a while.

Relief set in when I finally dropped into the White Sulphur Springs Town Pump C-Store a little before noon. The hardest riding was done and we only had a little over 100K to go. Ken was just leaving the Town Pump when I arrived. I was quite surprised to see him as I figured he would be hours ahead. But he had also struggled with a lack of calories which slowed him on the climbs. The hot dogs at the gas station got some much needed protein and fat into my system. I was feeling much better for the finish.

Mom and Dad and Brenda caught up to take care of us at the last control on the route at the turn to Martinsdale. Karel was nowhere to be found so far and everyone figured he was way out in front. Brenda finally found him almost to Harlowton in the afternoon. He did go to sleep in his van (after getting in at about 3 AM) and got started late. With the big climbs ahead he decided to turn back at Checkerboard and abandon the brevet. Fortunately, he had completed a 600K last weekend in Richland, Washington so he was already PBP qualified. He had missed the volunteers driving up to meet us when he went into the bar in Checkerboard to refill his water bottles, thus he was MIA for a while. I didn’t blame Karel at all for abandoning. The way I felt that morning I probably would have packed it in too if I didn’t absolutely need the ride to qualify. I have no doubt Karel could have finished, but he didn’t want to finish in the evening and then have to drive all the way back to Missoula on less than three hours sleep. Probably a wise decision-and he did get some really valuable training in if nothing else.

Ken made it in safely and he, Karel, Brenda, Jackson, and Ernie waited at the finish line for me come in at 5:38 PM. They cheered me as I rolled up-with a lump in my throat and my emotions about to leak out. What a great way to finish a ride. We had some celebratory hugs and handshakes before packing up and heading for home-now fully qualified for PBP. An emotional finish

It was an epic brevet series. The routes were challenging and in 3 of the 4 rides we got rained on (actually even snowed on in Missoula). We also had plenty of wind. But the extra effort in the qualifying rides will only help us in France in August. Now all I have to do if figure out how to box my bike up and get it to Paris!

A BIG BIG thanks to our families for all their support in getting this done. The help we got from Brenda, Jackson, Heath, Mom and Dad was so welcome. I hope they had as much fun as we riders did.

Gallatin-Jefferson 400K-a bit of summer

Brevet No.3...and now things are getting serious. 200K's-yes they are hard, but they almost always start and finish in daylight. 300K's-a good long way to ride a bike but pretty doable-in most cases you're not going to have to worry about sleep deprivation. But then there's the 400K-a notorious distance for many randonneurs. Too short, with a 27 hour time limit, to allow an extended stop with a sleep break, but too long not to finish way into the wee hours of the next day. Things that can be an annoyance on a 200K or 300K can be show stoppers on a 400K-whether it be nutrition, fitness, or equipment. You have to have things pretty well dialed in.

My Gallatin-Jefferson 400K started out into a chilly, clear morning from my house here in Belgrade (more photos here). I was joined once again by Ken Billingsley and Karel Stroethoff. All of us have 400K's under our belts from previous seasons but this was our first for this year.

The route was in two segments. The first was a tour of the Gallatin Valley, dipping in and out of the Bozeman City Limits on three different times, then heading west to the communities of Churchill and Manhattan before circling back to Belgrade on Dry Creek Road. The second segment headed out to Silver Star via Whitehall, doing a small loop back to Whitehall and then back home via the big hills on Highway 359 to Harrison.

We felt like we hit the jackpot with the weather forecast. High temps in the low 70's and very light breezes. A perfect day (almost).

When we left Belgrade at 5AM it was barely above freezing, though the sun was coming up. Toes got a bit chilly until the mercury started to seriously climb at about 9AM. We kept more or less together throughout the entire Gallatin Valley loop, a ride that in many ways felt more like a club century ride than a brevet because we had checkpoints (and thus lots of rest stops) about every ten miles to account for numerous possible shortcuts. We rode at a pretty good clip the whole way, but we didn't get back to Belgrade for lunch until 1PM as the frequent stops did slow us down.

Brenda, Jackson, and my Mom were at the house to greet us for the 100 mile stop. Brenda cooked up a batch of soup and there were lots of other goodies on hand. For a brevet with only 3 people, we were supported like it was a brevet of 50. I'm so grateful to my family for all their support in my randonneuring efforts.

After lunch we headed out into a light, but annoying and tiring, headwind on the frontage road. Traffic was predictably busy, but thinned out once we got past the Belgrade area subdivisions. The bike path and new pedestrian bridge over the Madison River at Three Forks was a welcome diversion from the highway, but all too short. More high speed traffic to Sappington Junction where we got a break on the nice and quiet highway through the Jefferson Canyon past the Lewis and Clark Caverns. The wind was still hounding us, but my stomach had settled down and I felt better.

We followed a typical pattern spreading out on the road, and meeting up again at the checkpoints-in fact we were together on all but two or three of the 17 checkpoints all day. Ken was riding much quicker than Karel or I, but he didn't mind holding up for us. A great feature of the non-competitive nature of randonneuring where camaraderie is what it's all about! I was able to get a picture of each of us depositing our post card in the mailbox in Silver Star-proving that we were there.

Brenda and Jackson setup a "secret" checkpoint back in Whitehall on our return trip back toward Belgrade (a secret checkpoint is not announced on the route sheet. An organizer can place one on a route to keep riders honest...and provide some service). It was most welcome. Lots of food and goodies and a chance to get our layers and lights back on as the sun was setting and the temperatures were falling rapidly.

If the ride was only 300K I would have been pretty happy. The first 300K was about 2 hours faster than the 300K in Wyoming two weeks ago and though my cold was getting to me and my rear end was sore I didn't feel too bad. But we had another hilly 100K's to go, almost all in the dark, and into more headwind. As we were finishing our loop outside of Whitehall the wind amazingly shifted from the southwest to the southeast and we would have light headwinds again all the way home. It was frustrating.

So the last 100K was slow. Brenda and Jackson waited for us out in the middle of nowhere at our last checkpoint with hot coffee. It was getting quite cold and I was chilled to the bone, being about one layer short of what I should have had. Thankfully Jackson lent me his jacket at that last checkpoint-which was a serious ride saver.

Ken and I got back to my house in Belgrade at 2:14AM and Karel came in a short while later. The ride into the night, though cold, had its advantages. I could count on one hand the number of cars that passed after night fall.

Many thanks to Mom for the neutral support and keeping an eye on us on the second loop. And thanks to Brenda and Jackson who once again staffed the brevet expertly, including spending some long hours waiting for us at that last checkpoint in the dark near Harrison. That was going above and beyond the call-but so important for us.

This ride had a lot going for it. Great weather (except for the wind direction), no rain, and for the most part-quiet pleasant roads. The worst part of the day was the 13 miles of Highway 55 between Whitehall and Silver Star. This stretch is busy with truck traffic and no shoulder. Also, the folks around Whitehall seem to have a particular distaste for cyclists (at least in my experience as I've been harassed there more than most anywhere else). I'll probably try to avoid Highway 55 in the future and use the much more lightly traveled and pleasant Highway 41 which turned out to be a real jewel.

The Best Piece of Infrastructure in Montana-Missoula 200K

Click here for more photos. PBP qualifying is finally underway as my first brevet of the season, the Missoula 200K, was successfully completed on April 30, 2011. I was joined once again by Ken Billingsley and Karel Stroethoff who are also planning on going to PBP. I was also delighted to have Jeff Fasteen join us for his first randonneuring event. Jeff and Ken drove over from the Billings area and Karel, who has driven 10's of thousands of miles to brevets all over the country, finally got to enjoy a randonnuering event that started just few blocks from his home in Missoula.

I watched the weather forecast with grave concern. A cold front was rolling through the state starting on Thursday, with full effects on Friday, and lingering impact into Saturday. Highs were forecast for about 50 with a mix of rain or snow throughout the day. The ride started with temps in the mid-30's and low gray clouds. The snow line was clearly visible on the surrounding hills just a few hundred feet above the valley floor. We had some wet snow flakes on the way to Huson and Frenchtown along with some light drizzle, but as it turned out, weather wasn't a problem. Having the ride in Missoula was a good decision, it was much worse in most of the rest of the state.

The best part of the route was the wonderful bike path along US Highway 93, starting at Lolo and going almost all the way to Victor-with plans to keep going to Hamilton eventually. Riding a long distance without worrying about rednecks, RV mirrors, big trucks, and other various distracted drivers is incredibly relaxing. The worst part of the ride was the Eastside Highway (Hwy 269) between Stevensville and Corvallis. This part of the route had heavy, impatient, high speed traffic with absolutely no shoulder. Ravalli County drivers were less than hospitable. Which is too bad-because it's a nice valley to ride through. In future incarnations of this route I will make more use of the bike path and avoid 269 as much as possible.

As we got into the afternoon, the clouds broke up and we had some sun. We also had a west wind as we headed back north toward Missoula that was either a cross tailwind, cross wind, or cross headwind depending on the subtle direction changes of the bike path. The wind wasn't so strong though-especially compared to what we've been dealing with most of this spring.

Ken and I finished feeling pretty strong. Karel wasn't feeling well in the afternoon, but he made it in with no problem. Jeff, who had undergone major knee surgery just a few months ago, rode within himself, kept the pedals turning, and finished triumphantly with plenty of time to spare. This was Jeff's first randonnuering event-here's hoping there's many, many more. I know for me, the high from finishing one these rides, is highly addictive. Congrats Jeff!

It was a great day and good start to the season. The next one, the 300K, is on May 21 (my birthday), starting and finishing in Cody, Wyoming. Any chance we'll get a little wind out there?

Surfing and Turfing in Washington-600k Brevet

SURF...AND TURF

After a summer of riding...short rides, long rides...fast rides and slow rides, I set off to the Pacific Northwest for the "Surf and Turf" 600k (374 miles with a 40 hour time limit) Brevet (pronounced-bruh-vey by the way). The ride is organized by the Oregon Randonnuers but takes place in the State of Washington-starting and finishing in Centralia. A bonus for me-and the reason I planned all year to do this ride is also to see my daughter Stephanie who moved to Portland this spring to work and and go to college. So after walking all over downtown Portland on Thursday, Stephanie and I drove the scenic route to Centralia on Friday-scouting out part of the course I would be riding. Friday was a very rainy day-and we saw several touring cyclists near Astoria dealing with it. Yikes!

A small group of riders set off from Centralia at 6 a.m. Saturday morning, August 29, 2009. There were nine of us doing the 600k route and three others riding the 1000k route. The 1000k guys would be riding the same route for most of the day, diverging about 30 miles from Centralia to add another 20 miles or so.

I felt great and though the roads were wet, the rain had pretty much stopped. On the way to Ilwaco, Washington on the coast I got in a pace line with Bruno George from Los Angeles and Pat Leahy from Seattle. We were cruising along-sometimes well over 20 mph all the way to Raymond. In the back of my mind I was thinking this is a nice pace for a 100 mile ride-but maybe a bit too much for 374-but I was having so much fun I didn't care. Bruno didn't have fenders on his bike, but Pat stayed right on his wheel anyway-looking like a jockey on a muddy day. I stayed relativly clean behind Pat's fender and mud flap. My race blade fenders with homemade plastic notebook cover mud flaps must have been doing the job-Bruno was still looking pretty clean after riding behind me.

Our pace line broke up after Raymond as Bruno stopped to engineer a mud flap of sorts off his rear rack from a plastic cup found along the road. The route also became much more hilly. I was alone for a while, but Bruno, Pat and another rider from California, Albert Kong, came along soon after I stopped to stuff a bland turkey sandwich in my face that I had carried with me. Bruno and I continued working together the rest of the way into Ilwaco where we found the market which served as our checkpoint and lunch stop. Albert was in and out of the store in a flash and Pat showed up before long as well-but took a little more time.

Bruno and I set off to the mouth of the Columbia River on US Highway 101. The road through here was busy and a little bit narrow-but not too bad-except for a tunnel that required us to hit a button to activate a flashing light to warm motorists of our presence. Fortunately, we got through without anybody overtaking us. The weather was cool and cloudy, but the rain was staying away and the roads were drying out-so no problems for me drafting off of Bruno-who was proving to be extremely strong and punching a nice hole in the wind when he pulled.Bruno along Highway 101 with the Bridge to Astoria, OR in the background

We met Albert in a grocery store in Naselle-he was on his way out as we were going in. We came across him a few minutes later just finishing up fixing a flat. Albert leapfrogged us again in South Bend when Bruno and I took a longer break. I would see him a ways up the road just before Pe Ell but didn't catch up as Bruno and I stopped for a short break before parting ways as he had a few extra miles to ride for the 1000k.

I was on my own for the last 30 miles from Pe Ell to Centralia as the sun set. Traffic was pretty much non-existent, temperatures were pleasant, and I just soft pedaled and enjoyed the scenery-getting back to the motel at 8:50 p.m. where I found our organizer Marcello Napolitano applauding me as I rode into the parking lot.

Now it was decision time. I could just keep going-probably finishing up sometime mid-morning. I could sleep a little while, or given my earlier than expected arrival-sleep most of the night and set out the next morning. Not knowing much about the second segment of the route, I decided not to try the all nighter. There were no big towns along the way and it's doubtful there would be any services available if I needed food, water, or whatever. I set the alarm for 3 a.m. and planned to leave around 4 or so. However I was awake at 2:30 a.m. and decided not to start another sleep cycle. I took my time getting ready and after considering and finally deciding to strap on the fenders and go back for my sunglasses I was off at about 3:30 a.m. As I was getting ready to leave another rider was just coming in-the poor guy wasn't going to get much of a sleep break.

Riding up the Centralia Alpha road in the middle of the night was a bit of a spooky and surreal experience. I could hear critters rustling in the bushes along the road-raccoons? deer? Sasquatch? Actually, my biggest fear was a stealthy farm dog taking a chunk out of my leg as I rode along. After a while I saw something up the road-it was out of reach of my lights, but it was alive! It turned out to be a coyote trotting down the road. I shooed him off and kept going. Seeing the coyote actually made me feel a bit better-coyotes don't bother cyclists but make short work of roaming farm dogs.

Roosters were crowing as I made my way to the small town of Morton on a hilly road. I was definitely feeling yesterday's effort, stopping a few times to take short breaks. The sky was lighting up a little, but damp fog was settling in and it was chilly. One very positive thing about riding in the middle of the night-I went 30 miles without a single vehicle passing me.

The sun finally burned off the fog as I got into Randle where I was craving a real breakfast. Fast time be damned-I stopped into the Mt Adams Cafe and ordered up some bacon, eggs, and coffee. Boy did that hit the spot. I kept an eye out the window as I ate and talked about the Mount St. Helens eruption with a couple of locals-before long Albert went cruising by-looking to me as fresh as he was yesterday.

After Randle we headed into the Gifford Pinchot National Forest before returning to the outbound route. I met Albert on his way back as I was headed to the last information checkpoint-he was about 6 miles ahead of me. A little while later I met Pat at about the same location as I was headed back. They were the only riders I would see all day.

The ride back to Centralia on the same roads I came out on was a tough slog. I had headwinds and crosswinds most of the way, and the hills which I couldn't see in the dark were presenting quite a mental challenge during the day.

The entire route was up and down-with very little flat. On the first day-the hills felt like gentle rollers, easy to climb and fun to descend. On the second day it was just one &^%* up hill after another, with much less downhill-how could these road builders manage to construct roads that went mostly uphill both ways! I was incredulous. It's funny how fatigue can change one's state of mind.

I finally made it back to Centralia at 5:45-some 35 hours and 45 minutes after I started. Stephanie and Marcello were at the motel waiting for me. Albert had come in a while before and Pat showed up as we were driving out of the parking lot. Stephanie drove my tired, but victorious, carcase back to Portland. The next day-Monday-I drove the 12 hours back to Montana-a car ride that in many ways felt harder than the bike ride the previous day.

So with that-in 2009 I successfully completed a 200k brevet (Casa Grande, Arizona), 300k brevet (Richland, Washington), 400k brevet (Ephrata, Washington), and 600k brevet (Centralia, Washington)-my first full brevet series! My main goal for 2009 has been accomplished. The goal for 2010-a 1200k Grand Randonnee (it's only twice as long as the 600k-so no problem???

I didn't take many pictures on this ride-due to the rain on the first day and tired crankiness on the second day, but what I did take are here

A special thanks to Marcello and the Oregon Randonneurs for putting on the ride. It was an excellent, scenic, and challenging route. Most of the roads were smooth, with good shoulders, and light traffic. If you want to get in a little rolling hill work-this is a route for you!

Ephrata, Washington 400k Brevet

Your intrepid author at the top of Loup Loup Pass
My quest to ride a super randonneur series took me back to the State of Washington-this time to the small town of Ephrata which was the start/finish for the Seattle International Randonneurs' (SIR) spring 400 kilometer brevet (actually a little longer than 400k at 254 miles).

SIR is one of, if not the, largest randonneuring groups in the USA. I knew from reading websites, ride reports, articles, and message boards that they would put on a first class event. I was also excited that I'd be able to share the experience with a large group of riders. I wasn't going to be disappointed.

Due to a lot of stuff going on in the area, I ended up having to book a motel room in Moses Lake, which is about a half hour from Ephrata, so it was an early 3:15 a.m. wake up call. I parked a block-or-so away from the ride start in a public lot next to the railroad tracks. As I was putting my bike together the Amtrak Empire Builder pulled up to the station next to where I was parked. I took this as a good omen. I'm a minor train enthusiast and had the pleasure of riding the other half of the Empire Builder (the train splits in Spokane) from Whitefish, MT to Portland a couple of years ago. It was very cool. So despite my haste to get ready, I had to take a pause to admire the train. My family would have been in awe of my nerdom at that moment.

The weather was supposed to be warm and sunny all day, but given the dry climate in this part of Washington, the air is usually chilly when the sun is not up. The reports from the volunteers who pre-rode the course last weekend advised that we should bring some warm clothing despite the forecast. I am very grateful for those reports because I probably would have left some of my cool weather gear at home. I was glad I had it.

About 50 riders pulled out of the Travelodge parking lot at 5 a.m. With such a big group it was easy to draft along with the peloton-something I hoped to do for as long as possible to save energy. My plan was working to perfection as I cruised effortlessly towards the Moses Coulee when suddenly the road disappeared! Between the pre-ride and brevet the last four miles of pavement through the Coulee was completely torn up. It looked like many of the riders had wider tires and bomb proof wheels which allowed them to keep riding-slowly. I have skinny tires and typical road bike wheels-I have no idea if either would hold up to gravel. That along with my relatively unsure bike handling skills resulted in me walking for almost all of the four mile construction zone. At 3 miles per hour I easily lost more than an hour, but at least my bike and my body were intact.

Karel Stroethoff from Missoula caught up to me as I reached the pavement on Highway 2. Karel and I rode much of the 300k in the Tri Cities together two weeks ago. I knew he was signed up but I didn't find him at the start. I was glad to see him-we Montana randonneurs are a rare species (2 of the 3 current Montana RUSA members were on this ride).

The first checkpoint was Farmer (which looked like it consisted of one building and a cemetery up the road). Here I got to meet Mark Thomas who is the former RUSA President and current Seattle Regional Brevet Administrator (RBA). Mark writes an informative blog that I've followed for the last couple of years. He along with several others were volunteering their time to take care of us at various checkpoints along the route. Mark-being ever attentive-vigorously warned us (tongue in cheek) to look out for the gravel as we pulled off the highway.

Karel and I left Farmer together and rode on nice roads with little traffic-with the exception of a couple of rednecks in a pickup-who told us they were number one with their horn and middle fingers.

After some rollers and an uphill trend we got to the top of McNeil Canyon and a sign that warned of a 12% grade. The view of the Columbia River from the top of the hill was amazing, but I didn't ponder it-I was reaching for my brake levers. I'm a chicken descender anyway, but I've never gone down a hill this steep that was this long. Karel on the other hand had much more faith in his ability and equipment and quickly disappeared around the first bend. I figured I would see him again either crumpled in a heap at the bottom the hill or at the next check point in Pateros. I took the descent gingerly-though I was conscious of riding my brakes too hard. I didn't want to heat them up and pop a tire (not sure if that can happen or not, but I sure didn't want to find out). A car passed me and I immediately smelled burning brake pads. Intellectually I knew the smell was from the car, but it made me worry about my brakes even more. I may have been having less fun than a handful of cyclists who were trying climb up the hill! I later heard that some of the riders were touching speeds of 50+ mph!

I got to Pateros just before about 500 motorcycles descended upon the town. It was quite a site as they blocked off the side streets to let the bikers come through. There must have been some sort of mini-Sturgis thing going on in the area as we saw motorcycles all day long.

The next stretch along the Methow River was my lowest point of the day. I started out of Pateros riding with Karel again, but soon had to let him go. I just couldn't seem to muster any energy. This was troubling. I was still well under 100 miles for the day and had a long, long ways to go. I figured I'd be stronger on the first half of this ride and if I was to fall apart it would be when I reached the heretofore uncharted distance of 200 miles. I finally came to the realization that the temperatures were probably somewhere around 70 and I was drinking as if it were in the 40's or 50's-as my training rides have been. I backed off a little more and slogged into the next SIR manned checkpoint near Twisp and headed for the water jug. After a long stop, and turkey sandwich, and some more fluids I set out to conquer Loup Loup pass.

I felt a little better when I left the checkpoint but I was already in my granny gear at the foot of the climb. However as the grade increased to a steady 6% I kept up my cadence and momentum. The food and fluids at the last checkpoint must have kicked in because I started feeling much better as I chugged up the hill. Before too long I made it to the top along with several other riders, including Eric Vigoren. We stopped for obligatory photos and to take a little break.

The descent of Loup Loup was much more fun for me than McNeil Canyon. Though the road surface wasn't as nice, the grade was a manageable 6% on the top half and 5% on the lower half. It was a fun cruise to the flattest part of the route through the towns of Okanogen and Omak. Our next checkpoint was a c-store in Omak. A nice local gentleman came out to talk to us about what we were doing. He told us the rest of the way to Ephrata was easy-even the big hill before Nespelem would be no problem (I don't think he's ever tried it on a bicycle though).

The ride out of Omak on the Columbia River Road was very nice as far as pavement surface and scenery. But it was also hilly and breezy. I hit my second low point on this stretch. I started doing math in my head and tried to predict when I would get done. At one point I had worked it out that I would miss the last checkpoint closing time by 2 hours! After a few miles of panic I realized I was miscalculating and time wasn't going to be an issue as long as I kept at it. Before long I came upon a SIR "secret control". A cup-o-noodles was offered that so hit the spot I couldn't even believe it. It's amazing how the right food at the right time can really lift your spirits.

Buoyed by the cup-o-noodles I made short work of the 2 mile long 10% climb away from the Columbia and back up to Highway 155. It was now dark, the crickets were chirping, frogs were croaking, a coyote was yapping somewhere off in the distance, and the occasional (drunk?) redneck was screaming some undecipherable gibberish as they roared past on the highway. I followed the bright tail lights of Joe Platzner all the way to the Grand Coulee Dam where we were caught by Matt Mikul. Matt rode his bike to the ride start from North Bend, Washington the day before! I was pretty amazed.

We got to the last checkpoint before the end after another steep climb away from the dam that I also felt fine on and were greeted by encouraging volunteers with steaming bowls of potato soup. Once again the soup hit the spot!

Joe had been battling stomach problems and a stubborn leaky tire for much of the route. He wanted to take it a little easier as we rode out the final 56 miles to the finish. This was absolutely fine with me. We cruised along under a multitude of stars on what was a very dark night. Other than a rare passing car the only sound besides our own chatting was the croaking frogs. We could faintly make out a steep cliff to our left and a body of water to our right. The air temperature fluctuated drastically. Every now and then we would hit a cold air pocket that really woke us up. After a while Joe Llona came along-his headlight looking like an approaching locomotive-then Matt, who must have "smelled the barn" as his tail light quickly disappeared up an approaching hill.

The sky was starting to light up and the song birds were beginning to sing as we took the home stretch between Soap Lake and Ephrata. I often notice song birds on pre-dawn departures. I've never noticed them at the end of a ride. I had been at it for almost one complete lap of the clock! As I got my brevet card signed for the final time back at the Travelodge I heard a train horn honking-probably the Empire Builder again. Yep it had been a long day. However, the euphoria of finishing such an event is so addictive...I'd do it all over again-no question!

A weigh in on Monday morning showed I had lost about 4 pounds. I think that confirms my suspicion about my hydration issues. Something to work on for the next one.

Many thanks to all the SIR volunteers who put on such a spectacular brevet. The scenery was amazing, the weather was great, and the support at the checkpoints was tremendous. I met many nice people on the route and at the checkpoints. I know I'll be back to ride with them again.

More Ride Photos Here

Desert??? Region 300km Brevet

According to Wikipedia, the Tri Cities area of Washington annually average only about 7-8 inches of precipitation per year. So in anticipation of some nice warm sunny weather, I signed up for the first ever offering of the Tri Cities 300 kilometer (187 miles) brevet-scheduled for Saturday, May 2 out of Richland, Washington. The organizer of the event, Paul Whitney, set up the ride under the auspices of the Oregon Randonneurs.

Actually the expected weather was a small factor in my decision to do this ride. Despite being about 539 miles from Belgrade, this brevet is currently one of the closest such events to my house. The timing was also about right-any earlier and I don't think I would have the fitness to do a ride this long (without suffering greatly). Any later and I would run into scheduling difficulties for the 400km and the rest of my summer activities.

Our "spring" here in Montana has been frustrating. After a relatively dry winter, March came along and dumped a bunch of snow on us along with its usual blustery weather. The snow, cold, and winds continued into April-leaving anyone into warmer weather outdoor activities-like road cycling-in very grumpy moods. I did manage to get some miles in on the bike in between (or during) storms, including my own 200km permanent two weeks prior. I'm not in peak form by any means, but good enough to get through a 300k.

I arrived in Richland at about 4 p.m. on Friday. Temperatures were pleasant and it was breezy-just what I expected. However, the weatherman was warning that rain showers were on the way-not only for Richland, but pretty much throughout the region. So I'm thinking, given the dry climate, a few sprinkles here and there maybe.

A group of about 15 riders met up in the Albertson's parking lot in Richland on Saturday morning under cloudy but non-threatening skies. As we rode along the mighty Columbia River I met and visited with Karel Stroethoff from Missoula. Karel and I represent 2/3 of the active RUSA members from Montana. As one rider pointed out-we Montana randonneurs are an endangered species so we better be careful.

After crossing over the Columbia, touring past some of the rail yards of Pasco, and getting our cards signed at the first check point in Burbank, we left the cities behind and cruised east into the rolling countryside. The sun looked to be trying to burn through the clouds and temps were fairly comfortable-especially compared to what I've been used to. I was feeling good and we made great time to the second check point at the grocery store in the small town of Waitsburg.

We rolled out of Waitsburg and immediately hit a stout climb on the back roads toward Walla Walla. This part of the route must be pretty popular with the local cyclists. There were frequent road signs warning motorists to watch for bicycles and the road was marked for a previous or upcoming road race. After the big climb, it was a downhill trend the rest of the way to Walla Walla with some good rollers in between. It was also starting to drizzle a little-then a little more. Before long I couldn't see through my clear glasses so I pocketed them. For some reason I had the bit in my teeth and was pushing hard-stupidly not stopping to put on my jacket. It's only about 20 miles between Waitsburg and Walla Walla so this stretch didn't take very long, but I got to Pioneer Park, which was the next control, soaking wet. I didn't feel cold on the bike, but once stopped I started to shiver a little. Not good when we still had over 100 miles to go!

Karel and I headed out of Walla Walla together and soon caught up to Martin from Seattle. The road offered a wide enough shoulder, but traffic was fairly heavy and the rains were coming down pretty hard now. Every big vehicle that passed us gave an extra splash. Somewhere in this stretch-either in Walla Walla or Milton-Freewater, Oregon we went past a group trying to hold a car wash fundraiser. They had a car all soaped up-even as it rained. I loved the dedication.

Every long ride has a low point where the rider really wonders if it's all worth it. The stiff headwinds, drizzle, and long hills on the way out of Milton-Freewater were mine. I was burning up the road at 7 mph in my granny gear wondering if I would ever get anywhere. Fortunately, the climbing and wind did let up. The sun also started to show itself and before long I was on a fun descent into Pendleton. On the edge of town I caught back up to Karel who fared much better on those long steep hills than I did. He was talking to another cyclist (I think it was Dan from Washington) who's drive train had pretty much swallowed itself. He was going to see what he could do and maybe find a bike shop-it didn't look good for him to continue the ride. Karel and I proceeded through Pendleton in search of food and someone to sign our cards (Pendleton was an open control). We settled on a little pizza place to stop and take a break. As we pulled in we saw two recumbent riders on our brevet a little ways up the road starting to head out of town.

New York Richie's Pizza proved to be an excellent choice. The two recumbents had just stopped there so the girls behind the counter already knew what we were all about and happily signed our cards. Just as Karel and I were sitting down with our drinks Martin came in and joined us. The food was good and my mood improved considerably.

The sun was out now and the temperatures were in the upper 60's. Karel, Martin, and I rode along with the Umatilla River in a scenic little canyon. Across the river to our left was green alfalfa fields and pasture, and the to the right was the canyon wall. There was almost no traffic. I think we got passed by more freight trains on the parallel railroad tracks than we did cars. Since we were going with the river the grade trended downhill so at times we were cruising along at around 20 mph. The ride was suddenly fun again. We caught up to Dan in the canyon. He had somehow cobbled his drive train together enough to keep going-but with only one gear. He was going to ride it out.

We were fully warmed up as we left the canyon. Martin pulled over to shed a layer and Karel and I kept going towards the next checkpoint at Umatilla. We rode through the town of Hermiston and to a little bit busier back road. The sun was still out, but a huge black cloud to the southwest was overtaking it (and us) very quickly. It started raining just as we left Tesoro c-store in Umatilla.

To get back into Washington we had to cross a big bridge over the Columbia next to an impressive dam and spillway. Unfortunately, the rain made what would have been a great photo opportunity impossible. I was so disappointed not to get a shot going over that bridge.

Between Umatilla and Richland is a massive hill which I had scouted with the car the day before. The thought of climbing this hill with 160 miles in my legs was in the back of my mind the whole day. I think I psyched myself out thinking about it. It turned out not to be so bad. It was long and never ending, but not severely steep. I was even able to go for a ways in my middle ring. But after about 5 miles or so I was feeling pretty spent and had to drop my pace to keep from totally blowing up. Karel, on the other hand, just kept right on chugging and before long he was a distant dot on the horizon.

As I steadfastly spun up the hill in my granny gear the rain nearly stopped and the sky looked to be clearing off to the west. I still had the good sense near the top to put on my vest and reflective sash over my jacket and prepare for the quick descent into Richland in the fading light.

The lights of the Tri Cities were an amazing site from the top of the hill. I took the descent gingerly as my cold tired hands didn't always react well to grabbing the brakes and my coordination felt a bit stiff. As I made the final turn about three miles from the finish the rains started falling again with a vengeance. I think the hardest part of the whole day was getting my bike and all my stuff back in the car as the rain poured over me. I couldn't wait to get to the motel and turn the heater on full blast.

Paul mapped out a terrific and interesting route. It would really be something in all pleasant weather. However, given that I don't ride all that often in rain, this was a valuable learning experience. I learned some important lessons about my equipment and clothing-what worked and didn't work. I am definitely a better cyclist and randonneur for having done this brevet.

My fitness is steadily improving. I climbed better on this ride than I had on my permanent two weeks ago. It's something I just have to keep working on.

A special thanks and kudos to the Oregon Randonneurs and Paul Whitney for organizing the brevet. I hope to get back to the Tri Cities for another one someday. Also, a huge round of applause to our vigilant volunteer Cathy. Her husband Gary was on the ride and so she looked after us, met up with us at the park in Walla Walla, and took our cards at the finish. You just can't say enough good things about folks like that.

Ride Photos Here

Randonneuring in Arizona-The Cure for Cabin Fever

Last year I discovered the joy of January cycling when I visited my brother Travis and his family in Savannah, Georgia. So this year I thought it a good idea to find another warm location to ride in. When the 2009 RUSA schedule was posted I knew I had to try to get down to Arizona on January 3 to ride their 200km Casa Grande Ruins Brevet. Not only could I satisfy my desire to ride in warm weather in the middle of winter, I could get a jump-start on my goal to complete a full brevet series in 2009.

I've done precious little riding since my 98 mile Plains-Whitefish ride in early November, so fitness was definitely a concern. However, with the 13.5 hour time limit randonneuring allows, I was sure I could finish the brevet-even if I had to take a few extra breaks along the way.

The event started out from the Round Trip Bike Shop in Casa Grande Arizona (south of Phoenix). The first leg of the ride takes a meandering loop to the Casa Grande Ruins located next to the small town of Coolidge and back to the bike shop. The second leg is an out and back on Indian Highway 15 in the Tohono O'Odaham Indian Reservation south of Casa Grande. Looking at the map the outermost point of the ride isn't that far from the U.S.-Mexico border, which became apparant as all day we met and were passed by border patrol agents in pickup trucks-and even rode through a border patrol checkpoint where it looked like vehicles (of the motor variety) were being searched.

It was 41 degrees when we started. It felt pretty good compared to what I was used to, but I did utilize a long sleeve jersey over my short sleeve jersey and some leg warmers. High temps were forcast for the mid to upper 60's so I didn't figure to need the extra layers for very long.

As the group of 38 riders made their way out of Casa Grande, I found myself drafting on the wheels of the fast guys at the front of the pack. After a few minutes I realized how futile that was and accepted the fact that at this stage in my fitness I had better not push it. It wasn't long though before a couple on a tandem and another rider overtook me and I was able to hold their wheel. Our group steadily increased in number and I was happily drafting along just outside of Coolidge when someone behind informed me that something fell off my bike. It turned out to be my cleat covers that were clasped to my saddle bag. After a brief search, only one of the pair was recovered. I should have just kept going. By the time I reached the check point at the ruins several of the group I had been riding with were already headed back the other way. With the clock running, these Southwestern Randonneurs don't want to mess around at the controls! No matter, I had to be a bit of a tourist and make some time to take a photo of the ruins.

The ride back from Coolidge to Casa Grande was a solo effort. Though I passed a few individual riders, I couldn't muster the energy to chase down a group a little ways ahead of me. I was able to keep them in sight most of the way-which was a comfort. The last thing I wanted to do was get lost.

After the second checkpoint back at the bike shop where we began, I left with several riders. I knew the route wasn't complicated, but I wanted to tag along with someone who knew the way so I wouldn't have to refer to my cue sheet at every intersection. This portion of the route is 37 miles-one way, so there were some opportunities to hookup with others along the way. Some were much stronger than me and quickly became a blip on the horizon, but others were going my speed (more or less). It was very pleasant chatting along as we shared the work of riding into a steadily increasing headwind. A little ways before the turn-around we met the leaders going the other way. Judging by the smiles on their faces, they were enjoying the tailwind immensely. We kept encouraging ourselves that we'd have that tailwind on the way back too.

At mile 88+, Susan Plonsky, the Arizona Regional Brevet Administrator (RBA) had set up a lunch stop with some delicious wraps and other goodies. It was literally an oasis in the desert-as we were way out in the middle of nowhere-somewhere between Casa Grande and Mexico.

After a short break I took off just behind small group of guys who seemed rejuvinated by the rest stop and loving the tailwind. I called to the engine room to give me the power to catch their wheels...but there was no answer. I was about out of gas and decided to let them go and just ride my own pace and enjoy the warm weather and desert scenery. I gave myself the excuse to slow down because I wanted to snap a few pictures as I rode and try to call my daughter on my cell phone to tell her when to pick me up in Casa Grande. As I rode the wind moved from a southerly tailwind to a west cross-wind, and finally a straight-on north headwind. It was a bit demoralizing having the wind in my face for the last 20 or so miles when I was expecting to be whisped along by a tailwind. But even though I was slogging, I was still throughly enjoying being on my bike in short sleeves in January!

I finished in a tad over 8 hours-and somewhere in the middle of the bunch. I was pleasantly surprised how good I felt after getting off the bike. I have never done a ride of this length with so little preparation-I think it bodes well for the season to come.

On the ride, at the lunch stop, and at the finish I got to visit with randonneurs from all over-including Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Texas (among other places I'm sure). The guys at the Round Trip Bike Shop where the ride started and finished were also very friendly. Special thanks goes to Susan Plonsky and the other Arizona Randonneurs that put the event on. I hope I can make it back there for another brevet someday. I am also extremely grateful to cousins Mike and Gert in Chandler, Arizona for their tremendous hospitality while staying with them (and for the light rail ride in Phoenix on Friday night!). And finally a special note of appreciation to my daugther Stephanie for coming along on this trip and driving the entire length of Utah on our 18 hour epic trek back home-I couldn't have done it without you Steph!

St. Anthony Sand Dunes 200KM Brevet May 24, 2008

The sport of randonneuring hasn't caught on in Montana yet so I will have to do some traveling to ride any brevets. The closest rides offered in my part of the country take place in Driggs, Idaho with the Yellowstone Area Randonneurs. Jim Severance is the Regional Brevet Administrator (RBA).

This year The Yellowstone Area Randonneurs is offering a 200K brevet on May 24, 2008 and a 300K brevet on May 31, 2008. The 200K worked out perfectly-beings it's a long weekend for Memorial Day. So Friday after work, my wife Brenda, son Jackson, and I loaded up the car and headed to Driggs-approximately 190 miles south of us.

The next morning was the day of the big ride. I was extremely excited and really didn't sleep very well. I also drove Brenda crazy-getting up several times to check and double check my gear. I was really afraid I'd leave something important behind. But despite all that I was wide awake before the alarm went off and got myself ready. The motel was about a mile away from the start so I had a nice relaxing warm up ride. It was about 6:30 a.m. and the only thing moving in Driggs was RBA Jim and four cyclists signing up for the ride.

Jim had ridden the course the week before on a "worker's ride" so he wouldn't be riding with us, but instead would be looking after things. The three riders to join me were Greg from Iowa, Al from Pennsylvania, and John from Wyoming. Interesting-no other riders from Idaho. Al was on a quest to ride an organized century (or longer) in all 50 states!

As we set off at 7:00 a.m. clouds were heavy and the air was a chilly 39 degrees. It didn't look like it was going to get much warmer-but we were hoping the rain would stay away. The forecast called for 50% chance of showers.

We made our way out of Driggs and headed toward our first checkpoint in Ashton, Idaho. After brief conversation as we rode in a steady paceline, it was apparent that Greg was going to go a little faster than Al and John. It looked like Greg's pace suited me so I rode beside him and we chatted while cruising through the small town of Tetonia, Idaho. I was very happy that I'd have someone to ride with-I knew well ahead of time that this brevet would only have a handful of riders and there was a distinct possibility that I'd have to ride the entire route by myself.

After riding on the state highway for the first 20 miles or so, Jim had us turn off onto a more narrow farm road heading over the hills of eastern Idaho. These farm roads are paved with a chip seal (probably from recycled asphalt) and were a little more rough than the state highway. But there was no traffic at all-it was extremely quiet. While descending a particularly steep hill I thought I heard something snap-or click. The bike seemed fine so I kept going-realizing a little later that the snap I heard was my bar-end mirror hitting the pavement. Dang! I've gotten quite used to using the mirror all spring and now I'd have to ride the rest of the route without it.

Greg and I got to the first checkpoint-the Shell station in Ashton and got back underway in short order-taking more narrow and lightly traveled farm roads along Henry's Fork of the Snake River-which was very swollen by spring snow melt and heavy rains in the area. We even crossed a rickety steel one-lane bridge with wooden planks on the deck-it was pretty cool. Greg and I got to the St. Anthony Shell station and our second checkpoint and then headed west out of town as the clouds hung low all around us and the west-southwest wind blew in our faces.

We knew our next checkpoint was the famous St. Anthony Sand Dunes-so instead of religously following the route sheet provided by Jim, Greg and I followed the signs that pointed towards the Dunes-realizing about 3.5 miles later that we should have kept going straight when we took that last right turn. The Sand Dunes area is huge and Greg and I were in the wrong place. After asking directions from one of the many ATV riders on the Dunes we headed back to the proper route. We started to get rained on pretty good in the last few miles to the Sand Dunes checkpoint. I wasn't suffering-but I wasn't exactly comfortable either. I don't have much experience riding in the rain and my bike is not equipped with fenders.

After the Sand Dunes, the route reverses itself for awhile and we encountered Al and John, still together, and still riding strong. We encouraged them with the tailwinds they would get after turning around at the dunes.

After a quick stop at a St. Anthony grocery store to stock up on fuel, and a nice conversation with a local who admired our bikes and told us of his past life as a cyclist-Greg and I were approaching 100 miles and on our way back towards Driggs. Jim had us diverge from the outbound route so we wouldn't go back to Ashton, but instead took some more farm roads along the Fall River. After our little route mishap earlier we were more careful about staying on route-stopping to check the route sheet several times.

There appeared to be rain showers all around us, and the winds were picking up strength as the inbound route converged with the outbound route again. We would be on more familiar roads the rest of the way-which was both a blessing and curse-as we knew how many rolling hills we had ahead of us-with more up than down as we made our way back to Driggs. The benefit of the route convergence was that we went past the location where I lost my mirror-and sure enough-there it was laying along side the road still in tact. It was at about this point, where Greg and I really started feeling the effects of our ride. We were readily clicking into our small chainrings for any climb-of which there were many. We also picked up a steady 15 mph headwind and the rains started really coming down. We met Jim in his pickup along this part of the route and told him we were doing fine and would make it to the end-no problem! Even though we were starting to really feel miserable. We only had about 22 miles to go.

The final stretch on the smoother state highway gave us a straight on headwind and steady drizzle. I was fairly comfortable in my jacket, but it had a bit of a parachute effect into the wind making it that much harder. It was also mostly uphill. Greg and I shared the work-taking turns pulling out front. After a long while the stop light in Driggs became visible and we knew we were going to make it. About that time we met Brenda and Jackson in the car coming the other way-they quicky U-turned and passed us heading to the finish line. Greg and I pulled into final checkpoint-the place where we started at 5:17 p.m., some 10 hours and 17 minutes after we started. Not bad considering the rain, wind, and extra miles. This "200 km" brevet was actually 135 miles so Greg and I ended up about 142 miles for the day. We were no worse for wear-felt fine, and happily turned in our cards. Brenda snapped a picture of us victorious. We then rode the one mile back to the motel at nearly 20 mph with the wind now at our backs.

A little while later, as Brenda, Jackson, and I were sitting down for dinner at a little Mexican restaurant on Driggs' main street I saw Al and John come riding in. I quickly jumped in the car and drove to the finish line to congratulate them. They came in with plenty of time to spare and looked good. Al said it was one of the toughest rides he has done so far on his quest for a century in every state-but he wasn't complaining-he knew he would be that much stronger for his ride next week (I think he said it was in Nevada).

Of course-as we packed the car the next morning the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the wind was calm. But that's okay-what would have been the challenge of riding when it's nice out?

I enjoyed my first randonneurring experience very much. I think it was much more rewarding being a tough ride in less than perfect conditions. I learned much more about myself, my equipment (need fenders), and the need to improve my navigation skills. I especially found the art of navigating with a route sheet on a route in which I am completely unfamiliar to be challenging and kind of fun-very different from the riding I do here at home where I know the roads. I'm really glad I had Greg to ride with-I think I could have gotten myself pretty lost without him on a couple of occasions.

This will probably be my only brevet of 2008. I'd love to ride Jim's 300k next weekend, but my daughter is graduating from high school on that day-so I think I better go to that instead. The rest of my summer is pretty well planned with projects at home and a family vacation later on. But next year-the goal is a complete brevet series including a 200K, 300K, 400K, and 600K-who knows where. Beyond that maybe a 1200K, and ultimately Paris-Brest-Paris in 2011 (if I write it down and make it public I have to do it-right?!)