What a day, Thrill Seekers! About three dozen riders queued up on the Fauntleroy Ferry Dock on Saturday to ride to Seabeck and points beyond. We had Rabbits, Laughers, and COGsters. The latter from that shadowy COGS organization, led by our own Agent Louise. After I scheduled this ride, the folks in the white coats decided to try yet another antihypertensive on me. I’m happy to say that that one seems to work, in conjunction with the other two. It also leaves me prey to attacks by neighborhood kids on their tricycles, so I was thinking best let Agent Louise lead this one and hang on as long as I could, then turn back or throw myself into the ditch.
When we debouched from the ferry things went OK, as we climbed the tough hill up to the store. I was blown already and thought about turning back. We regrouped and I looked for Dan and Pam, who were planning on riding with me. Not to be seen. I rode back around the corner to look for them, and people took off. I raced to catch them but couldn’t; 18-20 on a flat road with a tailwind was my limit, otherwise I went anaerobic. This was not going to end well. I soloed into Port Orchard to regroup, and found myself joining up with Agent Louise and the COGS Cult. I hadn’t realized until that point that COGS was not just a cyclewear vendor, but in some ways resembled a cult. I immediately flashed back to The Temple of Doom, and the Thuggee Cult worshipping the Goddess Kali, drinking strange beverages, ritual sacrifices, matching outfits, that sort of thing. And given the way I was feeling, I got the role of the poor schmoe lowered into the flaming pit (think endless climbs maxing out the Steep-O-Meter).
We left in a mob, and soon pedaled onto a busy highway where we were hammering for all we were worth to stay alive amidst screaming cars. Crossing way too many lanes of traffic, we finally managed to exit the Highway from Hell and emerge onto pleasant country lanes. The only drawback being the pleasant country lanes went up at a steep angle. We worked our way around to the west of Bremerton, going first up, then down, then up again. Fortunately the Sprocket Queen kept her disciples well organized and we regrouped regularly. A good thing as there were only a couple of people behind me, and their biggest problem was managing their crutches.
We put all of the hill sprints behind us and turned onto Northlake road, where we started the serious climbing. This actually wasn’t so bad, and was a long steady climb to gain the plateau. That accomplished, we promptly raced back down hill heading for Seabeck. Quite a rush, and quite lovely. In good time we arrived at Barbie’s in Seabeck, where some of the overachievers were already tucking into the pie. I got myself some cherry pie and enjoyed it on the dock in warm sunshine. The pie was exceptional. While I was finishing my pie, the COGS Cult were engaged in more ritual activity, making offerings of pie to their Goddess the SprocketQueen (offering at right). Not wanting to be lowered into the fiery pit once again, I elected to saddle up and beat feet up the long climb ahead of the Cult. This worked out pretty well. Eventually Purple Peggy and some others caught up with me, but I managed to hold off most of them for a long time.
I ended up pulling a long train of riders at a pretty good clip. After a while I was thinking, “Why was the old guy taking all of the performance lowering drugs doing all the pulling here?”. So I pulled off. Pretty soon we were howling down a steep descent, headed for Holly. As we howled, I started passing everyone, and eventually flew past PapaGoose. I was looking ahead as the road appeared to tilt up and thinking good, that will slow me down. When I hit that part I kept on going fast- optical illusion- it was flat. Eventually the road tilted up and I noted I was going up a steep climb at 40 mph. Later I found that the guys I passed had been going 51 mph, so it was quite a descent.
We regrouped at the base of a steep climb in a lovely glade of trees. The unnamed road Agent Louise was looking for didn’t seem to exist. While we looked at maps a car drove up and a guy got out with a can of course-marking paint and painted a skull and crossbones and a left turn arrow pointing up the super steep climb. They turned out to be laying out a triathlon course and this was to be the mountain climbing section. Consultation with these folks revealed that up was the only way to go. So we shifted down and stood up. This went on for a good long time, and was exquisitely painful, especially if you were the guinea pig in medical trials of various nasty drugs. The only fellow in greater pain was Dan, who was gutting it out behind me. I had to admire his courage and perseverance. The views on the way up were exceptional of the snow capped mountains.
The climb was actually pretty short, in dog years (we were suffering like dogs), and we eventually reached the turnoff to the Bear Creek-Dewatto road. There we regrouped. The Goddess was none too sure of her route at that point, so to avoid further human sacrifices I whipped out my Topo maps and PapaGoose consulted Henry. The Goddess meanwhile consulted with a passing motorist, who didn’t know the name of the road but knew it went to Belfair, somehow. So we set off. The topo map said this led to an Alpe d’Huez style climb, and it was right. More suffering here. Eventually the pain ended and we regrouped, then set off in search of Goat Roper Road. Agent Louise wanted to try this one because of her early days as a Goat Roper in Westchester County rodeos. We passed by where I thought it might be, and then PapaGoose noted that Henry had shown us passing the road, which turned out to be a dirt forest track. We continued on down the Elfendall Pass road in a fun descent and eventually ended up on the Belfair Hwy. 
Agent Louise went to the front on these rollers and pulled her disciples into Belfair in good order. We stopped at the supermarket and loaded up on food and drink. While we were doing so, who should appear but David the Deranged, momentarily off the back of the Rabbits. I knew I would get to point and snicker at an exhausted Rabbit! The plan called for us to exit Belfair on Rt 3 and climb up the hill. That was quite a climb, and Dan and I were at the back suffering. The traffic was something to see. We found Lake Flora road and continued to climb, near the top we spied Agent Louise waiting for us; no doubt another ritual was on offer. Once we got this climbing nonsense out of the way we were in the rollers on familiar terrain, and after a while I went to the front to air it out. This was great fun and soon enough we were descending into Port Orchard. I piddled through town, waiting for Dan to catch up, and then let some of the Young Disciples go ahead and pull on the shore road. We had the wind in our faces so I just sat on.
About five miles out from Southworth my back tire started to go soft, so I queried PPG and Steve as to whether my tire looked flat. After discussing it, and checking from various angles, they concluded that yes, I had a flat tire. I looked around for a convenient place to stop and picked a nice apple orchard. We pulled in while the Young Disciples continued on. When we 
pulled in we were greeted by a deep barking, warning us to leave. PPG and I started on the tire, Steve practiced yoga napping, Elizabeth started stretching, and Agent Louise dealt with the ravening guard dog. The RGD turned out to be a big yellow lab who came out to run us off but brought his ball as well in case we wanted to play. Agent Louise, having found yet another Disciple, played fetch with the ball and the RGD. This was such a great spot we were all loathe to leave. Especially as the extra mileage had added ten miles to our trip.
Eventually we hit the road and I went to the front. The performance lowering medications by now had just about worn off, and I felt pretty peppy, so I went out pretty hard. Kent and Steve joined me and we spent the last five miles giving Louise a hard time. I should note that, unlike her GOGS Disciples, we waited for her. The Flock are nothing if not gentlemen. We coasted into the ferry dock to learn that the ferry had left moments before, and the next one was due in an hour and a half. PPG, Steve, Dan, Louise, and I pedaled back up the hill to the store and went shopping. We were later joined by Emily. While we were sucking down various recovery foods and drinks, Agent Louise, whose body is a temple, rolled out packages of beef jerky, oreo cookies, and similar junk food. We were appalled. Where were the bean sprouts, the tofu, the edamame? A temple alright- the Temple of Doom!
A few minutes later who should appear but Dan and Pam, last seen on the ferry. They appeared suspiciously fresh. We questioned them closely, certain that they had spent the day lounging on the beach. The found the same missing roads that we did, and had pie at Barbies, so they indeed did the deed. Apparently Dan had flatted on the ferry, and they followed the route, mostly, about 30 minutes behind us. After a shopping trip in the store, they reappeared. Pam was clutching a cold bottle of 
beer. She had all of our attention, and not because she was a cute blonde. We were entranced by the cold bottle of good beer. There was an immediate stampede into the store to buy Black Butte Porter at $1.79 a bottle. There was no opener but PPG said that many parts on bicycles could open beer bottles, which he proceeded to do on his SPD pedals. I followed suit. Emily, new to the sport, needed further instruction. This, this was heaven. Best part of the day.
Eventually the ferry appeared, we got on, we lounged about on the trip home, and we slogged up the hill to our cars. Our totals were 94 miles, 5300′ of climbing, a very nice piece of pie, spectacular views, lovely roads, and lots of very tired legs. Kudos to Agent Louise for a fine job of getting us around the course. And to top it all, we didn’t have to drink strange beverages, endure the Black Sleep, or chant Kali Ma. A Perfect Ride™.
On Sunday I led a mixed group of about a dozen on a much needed recovery ride. Next week, we’ll meet in Monroe and do Steve’s Index Loop. More on that later.
Yours in fatigue,
Bill
Photos stolen from the SprocketQueen
