Redmond Cycling Club Blog

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,

The Golden Horde Redux

Greetings, Thrill Seekers! The Golden Horde met once again to devastate the landscape and strip stores of their Gatorade. It was a fine day for cycling and we had a mob at signup- about 42 people. Lots of Suspiciously Fit People. As well as the return of two Goslings from the injured reserve list, Greg G. and John E. Welcome back! They turned in strong performances. We had lots of the usual suspects, too many to name, in fact, but we also had Sylvia, returned from a stint of Grandparenting, and Heather P, returning after a stint of Parenting. Some new faces, as well. A noted absence was Agent Louise, even though we had put in bonus hills for her. Must be out with those Creepy Old Guys again.

The route was dreamed up by David, and included a new pathway to get up to Echo Lake via a footpath from the top of Woodinville Duvall. This path was much debated and researched by the Conclave of Menial Underlings, and we even enlisted the Princess to research easements and plats at the Assessor’s Office.  Laughing Leader even rode the path on his bike on Thursday to insure that there would be hot towels and beverages. There was also a lot of extraneous gallivanting about that I snipped out.

I enlisted Shan to deal with the SFPs and Greg G. and the Princess to sweep. Along the way I got yeoman service from Dave the Lesser and Per marking corners and pulling to give my ravaged body a rest. We started out and went straight up DotHill and then climbed up to 165th and rolled down to Avondale. It sounded like we were dying but in the end we all made it. I skipped the Death Threat Hill start that the Rabbits used because, well, I don’t like receiving Death Threats. We regrouped at Avondale and 165th and then headed through the neighborhoods to Mink road. At Woodinville Duvall we broke up into groups and headed for the top. Shan took the SFPs first. We turned off on 222nd and headed up to the footpath. It was absolutely beautiful. Big smiles on people’s faces emerging from the leafy canopy. We regrouped at Echo Lake and then took off for Welch road. A screaming descent, and then the hammerfest on Elliott, Connolly, and Springthetti to emerge down in the valley.

As we approached Snohomish I noticed a long line of bicycles, pedaling slowly near the airport. There must have been fifty of them! The all wore colored ribbons in their hair, and were chained together. A Cascade Ride Leader was beating a drum in a slow cadence, setting the pace. Ah. A CTS ride. Going to Sultan. A long day ahead of them. As I passed the chanting cyclists, I noticed one gal who looked familiar- very slender, long hair, but with a glazed look in her eyes. “Roseanne, Roseanne, snap out of it!” Yes, it was Roseanne of Dave and Roseanne, who was one of the ride leaders. She asked not to be outed but it was too good a story to tell.

At the restrooms in Snohomish we had 40+ Laughers, the Rabbits then rolled in, both groups, and then two colors of CTS riders. It was a madhouse! After eating my secret recipe energy sandwich (hey! it worked!), and filling bottles, we exited the mob scene and headed for Monroe. Dave the Lesser went to the front and pulled at a good pace. We crested Lord Hill and the back end came off. After a bit the SFPs took off. Followed shortly by Per, and not too closely by Shana. Some people behind tried to catch us, but had no luck. Meanwhile we reeled in some of the folks who had gone off the front. DtL is tireless! When we collected Shana, she was thinking, “Great, another big gorilla I can draft”.  When we arrived on her wheel I told Dave to “let her dangle off the front”. Per had given the SFPs a thrill, and left them with Little Lynn, sans goretex, pulling a long line of guys. No chivalry here.

We stopped briefly in Monroe for drinks, and then headed for High Rock Road. We left Lotto Guy in the store by mistake,  buying a sandwich. Oh well, someone always gets left. At Crescent Lake the Princess Option group diverted, and went over to High Bridge Road. The rest of the Horde stormed up the High Rock road. Sort of. I felt a lot better than usual and was able to keep the SFPs in sight. Halfway up a small group of Rabbits bolted past us. Soon enough we regrouped at Cherry Valley. Only three people had opted to continue up Lake Fontal road, and that included Lynn, fresh from her thrashing of the guys on the Old Snohomish road. The rest of us took off down Cherry Valley like bats out of Hell. Quite a rush. We broke into groups and headed for Woodinville Duvall road and the climb back. Lotto Guy hooked up with us then, having missed the fun on High Rock.

Many of the SFPs chose to go straight back on Woodinville Duvall; the rest of us climbed Old Wood Duvall, and regrouped at Radar Lake. From there is was over hill and dale down to Avondale, where we crossed and started the climb up 146th Way. As we came around the corner for that last little pitch, Lotto Guy said “Oh Shit!”. My thoughts exactly. It was a relief to have the climbing finally over, and we savored a screaming descent down to the brewery. As we passed the 145th street route, David and some Rabbits popped out of their burrows and followed us down.

Red Hook was mobbed, but the patio was open, so we had three tables, one inside, cool, with hard chairs. Too hard, I thought. Another outside, with picnic tables. Too hot, I thought. Inside, by the quiescent fireplace, cool, with a soft couch. Just right! We had a grand time after the ride, swilling fluids, telling tales. And Dave the Lesser bought a pitcher!

A great day, and a Perfect Ride™. About 56 miles and 3000′. Kudos to Dave the Lesser and Per, Greg and the Princess, Shan, and David the Deranged for a nice route variation!

Bill

We met at the Bellevue Park and Ride and scored a few Laughers and some Rabbits. Michael from New Hampshire brought beer, as did PapaGoose, so we welcomed those riders. Shan P ended up hauling Michael’s cooler. We saw no sign of David, and left promptly at 0730. I elected to ride with the Czech Chick, as I was feeling understimulated and somewhat lethargic from the effects of Satan’s Minions, the White Coated Devils. That lethargic feeling passed quickly and I was on the edge of my seat soon enough, raring to get on the bike.

Descent was fast, and soon enough we were basking in the sun at the Ingalls Creek Store, along with about eight other Laughers. The food was, as predicted, appalling, so we cut our stay fairly short, letting the others get a head start on us. After a brisk 40 minute saunter up the road, enjoying the raging creek as we went, we were at the turn off, and I got to admire the Bailey bridge once again. Brought back memories of my youth. We decided to dispatch the first mile or so and then amble up the steeper five miles, stopping every mile for wildflower perusal and back stretching. This strategy worked well and it was a lovely climb. The wildflowers were out in force and there was a nice breeze blowing. At one of our stops halfway up Michael from NH appeared, with Andrew in trail. They chatted briefly as they climbed past us. At the next stop Two Brews appeared, looking refreshed, followed by David, who looked just about as bad as I have seen him except for that time in the ditch on RAMROD. There was much gasping and wheezing, along with thunderous belching. He declined my offer of Crackerjacks, although Mark took some, and seemed eager to be off so that he could go someplace to die. We encouraged them in their ascent. It was like the old days of steam powered locomotives.

Greeting, Thrill Seekers. No, Agent Louise doesn’t get her own logo
this week. Too bad. But we do have a picture or two. We met at Lewis
Street Park in Monroe to do Steve’ Index Ride. Unfortunately, Steve
didn’t make it. Doug filled in for him, though. We had 31 people,
including PPG, Kristie, the Princess, Agent Louise, Czech Chick,
Allison(Rando Grrl), Mark of the Shadowy COGS organization, Per and
Shana, Dan and Pam, Dave and Roseanne, Lynn, Grant, Danny, Scott,
Chris and Kim, Dottie and Orin (momentarily) and a plethora of
newcomers. All sorts of summery outfits were in evidence, including
Agent Louise’s new mesh see through jacket. She passed on the tassels,
though.

Grant volunteered to take the Suspiciously Fit People for a ride, so I
gave him a cue sheet as well as an extra special loop up to Kellogg
Lake. For Dave, Roseanne, and the Princess, a special Princess
Option.  We started off in a well ordered mob, and headed for the
short climb to the cemetary. Here the Princesses headed up Old Owen,
while the rest of us (ROU) and the SFPs headed on Florence Acres. It
was lovely, especially after we turned off on 259th. On Old Pipeline
we started to break up into smaller groups, and the SFPs went ahead.
Per and Shana took corners to keep the stragglers from heading to
Granite Falls. We arrived at the gas station in Sultan and were again
a big mob. After a fluid break,  we set off on Rt 2 for Gold Bar.
Since this was not a pleasant experience, the pace picked up
dramatically and it was a race. After not too much time on the Rumble
Strips from Hell, we were in Gold Bar and heading for the May Creek
Road, another lovely experience, with views of snow capped mountains.

The climbing started after we turned off on Reiter Road. We were the
trailing group, having been picking up stragglers. Since the White
Coated Devils were trashing my cycling with their performance lowering
drugs, I had fitted a new, 29 tooth rear cassette. I used this to good
effect, slogging up the climb with Per in the waltz of the
Clydesdales. We were dying on this climb, and periodically Shana the
Sandbagger would flit up from the back and chirp that she was not
feeling good, or wasn’t going well, or some other nonsense like that.
Then she’d drop back, and repeat the performance a few more times.
Note that she flitted up, not having any trouble outpacing us. But we
were not easily fooled, having seen this on numerous RAMRODs, where
after towing her to the base of the climb, she suddenly gets a new
lease on life and flies past us up the hill, waving gaily as she passes.

The climb was a good one, in the shade, and we reeled in Dave and
Roseanne and the Princess, who were going awfully well up that hill.
Over the top and down the other side, for a very pleasant and scenic
descent, marred only by a stretch of gravel. We arrived in Index to
spectacular views, and huge mob of cyclists. The Rabbits had managed
to find Index, as well. We munched on bars and drank fluids, as the
food selection was pretty poor. As we poised to leave, the Czech Chick
elbowed her way into the bathroom ahead of Rando Grrl, thus avoiding
getting left in the bathroom. That honor fell to Allison with the
Chick’s finessing move.

The climb out was pleasant, hard only at the very top, and then a fun
descent. On the gravel patch Dan and Pam were fixing a slashed tire;
we figured they knew the way to Sultan and left them to it. Regrouping
at May Creek, we set off for the return journey. Quite nice until we
got to US 2, at which point it was a slog into the wind. The SFPs,
meanwhile, headed up to Kellogg Lake to tire them selves out. The
Rabbits, who had left Index just before us, were passed by Grant and
his SFPs as they were dealing with a flat. He taunted them, as is
appropriate. Something about turtles and rabbits.

We piled into the Sultan Bakery and started ordering food. Experienced
Goslings ordered half sandwiches. We had some newbies who ordered the
whole sandwich; they were a little surprised when the food came. We
had a great time eating and socializing in the bower. The Rabbits
passed us, finally, as we were enjoying our lunches. They were nibbling
on carrots and pellets. When  the time came to leave, one of the gals  found she had a flat. Immediately a group was convened to assist her.
She had apparently taken a class in fixing flats, but that was it. Her
assistants had taken a different class. While they were working, Per,
Shana, and the Chick went to the gas station for its potty, and Shana  cleaned her bike. This is apparently normal. Anyway, this flat fixing soon got out of hand and the regulars in the group were staring in amazement. Finally, Shana went over to lend a finger, holding up the chain for them. It’s a good thing for them that PPG had skipped the  lunch.
Don’t ask me why this bike is upside down. It think there was a
movie like this, with a title that included “Stooges” and “Change a
tire”. Anyway, eventually we got on the road, stopping for a look up
the valley at Mt. Index. And then it was off into the wind on Ben
Howard road. Agent Louise put in a long, steady pull, and Per finished
up when the wind got pretty strong in the latter half. Much appreciated.

We arrived back at the park exhilarated by a wonderful day on the bike
with good friends, and fantastic scenery. A Perfect Ride™!

For the Laughers,

Bill

Photo by Mark of the Shadowy COGS Organization

Awesome!

The weather was simply superb on Sunday, even better than predicted. The Weather Princess would be due some great chocolate if she weren’t on hiatus. I had been wanting to do the trip out to Sultan on the first nice Spring day, because the views are exceptional with the mountains covered in snow. They didn’t disappoint. We had a big turnout of 20, with many of the usual suspects, PPG, Agent Louise, Lynn, Dan & Pam, Chris & Kim, Mark P, the Princess™, the Czech Chick, Dan T, Scott, Lisa, Grant, and others. Many of the RCC High Command were recovering from the SIR 300 and were still in bed. The Rabbits also had a big turnout. The plan was to head for Sultan via Old Owen, Florence Acres, Old Pipeline, then return by way of Ben Howard.

The forecast had been for southerly winds, so I initially planned to head East over the hills and up the Snoq. valley with a tailwind. The morning of the ride the forecast changed to northwesterly winds, so I went north first, then East, trying to get a tailwind. Well, NOAA was wrong, what can I say? We had strong easterlies all the way to Sultan and back, and then a headwind down the valley. Oh well.

We went up Dottie’s Hill, then over to Lake Leota, with a pause for a clothing adjustment. It was warming up fast. I had gone with a short sleeve wool jersey and was soon stripping down. Even our wool addict, Agent Louise, had foregone her usual attire, merely pinning a scrap of wool next to her bosom on her synthetic jersey. As the day warmed up we began to see even more exposed flesh, and industrial strength eyewear was necessary to prevent snow blindness from the pale flesh. Even the Princess™ was pasty white.

A great roll down Fales, and then up and down on Elliott and the High Bridge road. Regrouping at Crescent Lake, we motored on in to the Lewis Street Park where we had a pit stop and I laid down until the dizziness went away. No collapse this week, but the motor is not what it used to be. I have a feeling that it is going to be a long summer getting used this medication.

We headed out through town and sprinted up Calhoun road to the cemetery, then split into two groups. Grant took part of the group and did the Florence Acres/ Old Pipeline variation, and I took the rest and went straight east on Old Owen, which had less traffic than I feared. I had really wanted to do Florence Acres but my body said no. Silly body. The headwind on Old Owen was nasty, and Agent Louise came to the front periodically to help. Views of Rainier were great. Soon enough we were flying down the descent into Sultan, and were at the Bakery in no time.

The Rabbits were there, all five of them, so we chatted for a while, then ordered our food. Evidently they had started out with fifteen guys or so, and managed to lose 2/3 of them. No more showed up while we were there, and we didn’t see any lying by the side of the road. Oh well. They were too heavy to carry on our bikes anyway.

After about 30 minutes Grant arrived with the rest of the Laughers, and we had just about finished up our lunches, so PPG led a contingent back early while I waited for the others to finish lunch. Evidently they had run into the same head wind. Dining was great at the bakery, sitting out in the sun.

We headed back via Ben Howard, and I stopped everyone on the bridge on Mann road to check out the truly gorgeous views of Mt. Index covered in snow. The hills around Sultan were also covered in snow. Just awesome.  Ben Howard lived up to its reputation as we saw lovely farmlands and pastures, newborn foals, and critters galore. We finally had a tailwind and so enjoyed a brisk pace back. One of the guys came to the front to help pull for the last mile or two before the hill and picked up the pace to 22. To prove that no good deed goes unpunished, Dan, Pam and I then dropped him on the hill. The Chick threw a chain when it got steep, and, this being Goose Bumps, we dropped her too. Since it is also the Laughing Group, we waited for everyone at the bridge into Monroe.

The road home was south on the High Bridge, then up and over Woodinville Duvall. I didn’t have it in me to do Old Wood Duvall, and so led them straight to Mink road, then up 146th and the footpath. Amazingly, even though they had been warned, all of the faster folks missed the footpath, and so I was able to get back in front of them for the last little bit. An exhilarating roll down to the Hook and it was time for beer.

So, about 60 miles, or 65 if you did Old Pipeline, plenty of climbing, and boatloads of sunshine and awesome views. Too bad David couldn’t be there. A Perfect Ride™.

And the Forest Service reported that there was a small grass fire near David’s cabin this weekend. Apparently some of the practice rituals in the Ancient Grove for the Beltane Fire Dance got out of hand. Or maybe the Skyfather failed to recognize David without his beard.

See you next Sunday!

Bill

For the Laughers

Soggy Soggy

As I promised, I geared up and drove down to Olympia Saturday morning to do the Millersylvania ride. When I reached Tacoma the rain started coming down in torrents. I was having trouble staying awake, and it was raining cats and dogs, so I pulled off at an exit to take a nap, figuring that this one wasn’t going to happen. After a refreshing 40 minute nap, my cell phone rang. It was Sylvia. She asked me where I was, and I replied sleeping at Fort Lewis. Turns out no one wanted to do 85 miles in this slop and they were thinking of breakfast. I suggested she call me back when they decided, and went back to sleep. Forty minutes later we communicated again, and I got directions to the New Moon cafe in Olympia. So I joined them for a nice breakfast, which was attended by most of the RCC High Command. Boothby was noticeably absent, and I concluded that he was probably off riding in the downpour.

Herky Jerky

Well, this was the most disjointed ride I think I’ve ever been on. My apologies to everyone. I arrived at Red Hook to find a few Rabbits and no Laughers. That changed pretty quickly as they poured in moments later. We ended up with about 20 or so riders. The usual suspects appeared, including the Return of the Littlest Goose. The route was a pretty ambitious one, devised by David, with lots of climbing. I had mentally made numerous changes to eliminate gratuitous suffering. It turns out I made a whole lot more later on.

Meanwhile, David the Deranged (I’m still not sure that this guy is actually David, but the Rabbits keep sniffing his butt and proclaiming him genuine) organized a Brisk group. Prior to the ride, the Chick asked if this was a trick. Of course it was. Reports from the front indicate that no Briskness took place. I offered the stronger looking Laughers the opportunity to ride with the Brisk group but got no takers. After explaining to people that the Baroreceptor Rebellion of last week was likely to recur, we set off on River Road. We followed the planned route until the time came to ascend the hill behind the Seattle Times. I didn’t like the look of that and headed up 35th instead. Along the way Danny flatted and told us to go on, which we did. I regrouped people at the top of that climb and stopped. At that point I realized that I needed to be laying on the ground, right away. So I did so. Someone took my pulse and said, “weak and thready, rapid, shocky”. Yep the Baroreceptors were up to their old tricks. While this was going on Agent Louise presented herself and showed a swollen gland, asking for permission to retire on medical reasons. This was granted. Meanwhile, my team of medical advisors was recommending a similar retirement. Being a Gosling Leader, I of course ignored their entreaties. Good sense does not run in Men.

Once we saddled up again, we headed off up the Interurban route. I kept it easy and it was quite nice. Not fast enough for some people, but good nonetheless. On Jewel road Kristie experienced a flat/cut sidewall. We stopped while she pumped up. It was clear a new tire was in order. We crossed Rt 9 and went down to Broadway, then up to the park in Maltby. Here Kristie changed her tire, with much discussion. I decided that going over to Duvall and flaming out was not a good idea, and so adjusted the route enough to give everyone plenty of climbing and still stay close.

We meandered over to Paradise Lake road and were just starting down when we heard “Flat!” again. Steve had flatted a sew-up. I figured this wouldn’t take long, and so sent half the group on and went back to check on Steve. That looked like all was well so I took off on Paradise Lake road. The weather had somehow gotten really nice by now, and it was a lovely jaunt. I waited with the others for a good while until the rump group appeared. Apparently there was trouble with the valve.

We set off on Woodinville Duvall for Old Woodinville Duvall and 232nd. Dan and Pam, sweeping (thank you!) and Kristie turned off on Mink as Pam’s ankle was bothering her. Meanwhile, we ambled up Old Woodinville-Duvall in bright sunlight at a very pleasant pace. Over the top and off on 232nd, where we regrouped. Steve R said he had a new way up Trilogy that bypassed the 10% grade, and I said, lead me to it, which he did. Turns out you turn right instead of left at the intersection, then go left on Sunbreak Way, gradually uphill. Follow that until the road turns left to become NE 126th; from there, right on 232nd and follow it around as it curves past the golf course and joins up at the round-about at the top. Gradual climb, no cars, peaceful, What’s not to like? Kudos to Steve for finding it. The Laughers all pronounced it great.

A brief stop at the Starbucks, where we had a Dottie and Orin sighting, then off down Novelty Hill. Steve turned off to head home. We turned in at 206th and bumped our way down the bridal path, and I counted beaks. No Princess. And a footman was missing. I called the Princess and left a message. We waited for a bit and then left, figuring Mark, the footman, could lead her back to the fold. As an aside, he had spotted a small, rusty crescent wrench on the side of the road, and they stopped to claim it, which is why they missed the turn. I didn’t figure I needed a corner person on a downhill. We headed out and took the back road between Novelty and Union Hill roads, where Lynn peeled off for home, then looped under the highway and picked up the trail by Redmond Town Center. After that it was just slog into the wind to the barn.

We arrived at the Hook as Rabbits were arriving; it was a big mish mash. Dan, Pam, and Kristie had already secured a table, so we joined them and had a pretty big crowd, including bleacher seating. Many lies were told, especially about Louise and David, who were not there.

Overall, very nice weather, somewhat compensating for the slop of the day before. 47 miles ridden at a moderate pace (really!).  Next week, antihypertensive pills after the ride and we’ll see if that improves things, although I seemed to get better as the day went on. Adaptation, maybe.

Bill

Baroreceptor Rebellion!

Well, we then set off up Hollywood Hill to start our adventure. My doctor had recently (Thursday) doubled the dose of my ACE inhibitor, so I was a little worried about how this ride was going to go. Hollywood went fine, and we all felt a little overdressed. We dropped down to Avondale and went out Mink and Woodinville Duvall where it started to rain. Dan elected to bail once the rain started, so we lost him. We pedaled up West Snoqualmie in a light rain, enjoying the lovely spring weather. I should add that there was an incipient rebellion by the Laughers once it started to rain, but I mollified them by telling them we would skip Wagner if it kept raining. Soon enough we were at the Starbucks, where we found Dottie and Orin. They soon left to explore and I sat down to rest. I’d gotten some much needed help pulling from Agent Louise, as I was feeling none too good.

After our break, we headed to Snohomish by the old road. Louise and I traded pace and we kept a nice paceline all the way. I was beginning to feel pretty odd by now, odder than usual, at any rate, and asked for a stop in Snohomish. While I was waiting with my head between my knees, waves of Wascally Wabbits went past us, in ones and twos with no discernible organization. PPG and the Princess headed off early, then the rest of us left. I decided that taking it easy was the right choice, and so ambled up Broadway. When it rains, it pours, and I flatted over the top going in to Cathcart. I fixed the flat but felt pretty bad, and was a little (make that a lot) lightheaded. So I sent the rest on while I laid down. Eventually, all of the receptors got their act together and I was able to pedal slowly up the hill with the Chick, who stayed behind to adjust meds.

We stumbled into Red Hook in time for some beer and good conversation. NB- they’ve raised the price of beer; adjust your contributions accordingly. A good ride, the weather, not bad, and a nice stay together group.

I noticed that the Not-David showed up again, impersonating David. The Laughers were not fooled, but the Rabbits all went over and sniffed him and thought that it was the same guy. Who knew?

On the way out to the cars I remarked —-anecdote redacted—–

So, see you next Sunday, and here’s hoping that those baroreceptors will be better behaved. Oh, and the new COGS jersey worked out fine, as it got pretty darned cold out there.

Bill

Dancing on Ice

Yes folks, the Dancing on Ice stars appeared at Red Hook this morning to debate riding. I had come from the south, where West Lake Samm was a sheet of ice on the bike lanes, and anything above lake level was icy. Krazy Kole pedaled down from the north, and said it wasn’t too icy. All around us the hills were alive with the sight of snow, so enthusiasm was not high. I arrived early, found only David there, then got a call from the Czech Chick, saying she hadn’t set her clocks forward. I told her to wait at home, because riding was not high on the list today. Eventually we had PPG, the Princess, Michael from New Hampshire, The Guy with the Accent, Dotnook, and Agent Louise. The last three appeared in street clothes. I appeared in my brand new COGS jersey, which Agent Louise assured me would update my style sense, and intimated other, more tangible benefits would soon follow. None of these have yet materialized, so I’d advise you guys to get it in writing.

So we went to Tulley’s, and settled in for an hour of spirited discussion (actually ringing condemnation) of the XXXX training the ride leaders had endured the day before. Then we started to discuss motorcycle cornering, four wheel drifts, flogging 911s at the race track, that sort of thing. Meanwhile Dottie, Erika, Louise, and Pete (who was late, as usual) were gossiping about something.

After an hour of lounging, the Rabbits leaped up and decided to ride. Since I have been sick the last few days, I opted to go shopping. Agent Louise showed me her back wheel, which was behaving badly. I looked it over and diagnosed a bad bearing. She headed for Samm Valley Cyclery. PPG and the Princess actually went riding, somewhere. I dropped by Sammamish to slip the mechanic $5 to tighten up Agent Louise’s brakes and bearings to wear her out, but he had already finished- opportunity lost!

So that’s how it was. I’m now going to curl up in bed and try and get well.

Remember next week we ride Roller Coaster on Saturday. Details to follow.

Bill