It C-Day minus three. On Monday we will depart for the first of what I hope will be several trips around the breathtakingly beautiful Olympic Peninsula. For those of you outside Washington State, this route is a ferry boat ride west of Seattle, Northward towards, but not into, Canada, west again to the ocean, along the rugged coastline and back along the Hood Canal to the initial starting point on Bainbridge Island. It totals 365 miles which we negotiate over the course of five riding days. Of the many highlights along the route is Lake Quinault. The Lodge, comparable to other landmarks of the US march Westward in the late 19th century, is spectacular in both design, scope and historical significance. It is also roughly half-way, so the overnight stay is rewarding as well as enriching.
The intrepid cycling adventurers navigating this trip will rest, refuel and reload on the following clock face, moving counter-clockwise: Bainbridge Island, Port Angeles, Forks, Lake Quinault, Shelton and the heroic return back to original starting point 365 miles and 360 degrees later. In that pair of treys surely there lies serious cosmic significance. We aim to find it.
My two prior trips were different as night and day. The initial run was totally self supported. It was slow, heavy, tedious and cumbersome. It was also magical and motivational. I was blazing new trails, finding fresh feelings of freedom and awe. We got rained on, pushed backwards by the wind and burned by the sun. We were challenged by topography and rewarded by spectacular nightly sinkings of the sun into the Pacific, one so vividly pure you could almost hear it sizzle as fire met salty water.
Second trip upped the challenge ante as on day one my rear derailleur cable completely shredded on a 5% uphill sending the Shimano Ultegra into the spokes of my Quintana Roo, seizing the wheel and sending poor Bernie (riding on my wheel) into a grassy ditch after contact. He was fine but my trip, on that bike anyway, was over. Our SAG master for that jaunt was drear old Dad, so we quickly accessed the mechanical damage and put Plan B into effect. Dad and I would drive all the way back to the starting point, about 80 miles RT, grab one of my other bikes, and meet the crew in Sequim. Should we encounter traffic and be late, either grab some lunch or ride up to the nights motel in PA and we’ll meet ya there. Good plan.
It was about half-way back that the shocking realization that the only road configured bike I had available was my fixie, struck me like an Ivan Drago right jab.
What the heck, how challenging! Sure I can ride my fixed-gear Specialized three hundred miles with as many gnarly climbs as one would care to count, after all it was just a few years before that, in 2006, that I participated in a Davis, CA to Boston, MA fixed-gear ride. If THEY could do THAT, I should be able to do THIS. Right?
Taking lessons from both trips with us, we depart on Monday. Sadly Dad is no longer around to offer support but I am quite sure that he would be pleased in the knowledge that he is being relieved by Whitey Ford, my 2010 Ford Transit Connect (it is white).
Myself and the three others will each have the opportunity to use the course much like an ala-carte menu. We’ll meet up, support, ride, rest and recover each at our own pace. The responsibilities of the modern world makes it difficult to simply drop everything and go for a five day ride. My primary mission is twofold, 1) Capture new and exciting video footage, and 2) Get in as many miles as possible.
It will be a challenge. It will be fun.The weather is forecasted to be partly ice, I mean nice. There are fires North of us that hopefully the off-shore breezes will push the smoke East. Whitey is ready, warm in the pen.
Third time should be charming. C-Day.
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