Permanent Debut

Don Boothby urged a few fools to "usher in a great welcome to the autumn season by playing hooky on "Hump Day" and going out to play in the rain." Sounded innocent enough and I really needed to get out and grab a 200 km to keep my R-12 dreams afloat for month number two.

Of all the days this week, Wednesday was the only one predicting rain. Don picked the day a month ago to ride with Joe Keenan. Once the vacation time was booked, Joe had to have surgery that morning. So, I joined the "few brave souls," Steve Davis, Mark Thomas and Don Boothby for the Hood Canal South #84.

I learned immediately that it was imperative to get a receipt at each control - having never ridden a permanent before, I was glad to have some experienced companions. As we rolled out through morning rush hour I had the distinct feeling that I'd be the caboose on this train. Steve was on his 11th month of R-12, Don has only taken 28 days off the bike for the whole year and Mark rides more brevets than anyone I know. I barely have ridden 28 days this year!

It was nice riding through the morning and we didn't start getting rain until we neared the Canal about 11:30 a.m. This is a pretty simple route and with stops in Hoodsport and Brinnon, gave us the opportunity for some coffee and pastries along the way. I felt pretty good until Brinnon at the half-way point and then realized my seat post had sunk down and had to readjust. Unfortunately with the new bike I had not yet marked it, so I guessed. Not a good thing.

Minding the store in Brinnon

Don and Mark were off the front in minutes on the return and Steve stayed near for company. I urged him to hang with the fast boys, but we enjoyed some great conversations about the economy and freight hopping, among other things. It made the miles go by easier! At Twanoh State Park I needed to get off the bike as I knew the seat was too high and when I put weight on my leg I thought my pelvis was broken it hurt so much. A quick adjustment and a few uncomfortable miles later all was well again.

The rain increased immensely through Belfair, and we took a few wrong turns till we found the correct one, but by the time we got to Bremerton it eased up and we came in "relatively dry". Don and Mark were there about 40 minutes earlier but waited and we all had dinner together at the Fry House. Nothing like a German sausage and fries to refuel! I highly recommend the Thai peanut dipping sauce with the Belgian fries.

Thanks to these three guys who assisted the rite of passage out of permanent virginity. They were true gentlemen! Now I want to ride permanents all the time!!

Rekindled Fixedness

I have always been a fan of simple bikes and recently watched a few of the urban fixie videos that are floating around. I ran fixed during 2002 and other times for brevets and club riding, but this time I merely wanted something to scoot around town with. There sat the faithful Heron Road frame and so in a brief Saturday afternoon it was transformed into a nice light fixed gear.

I had some little riser bars that my daughter used on our tandem and I flipped them forward and mounted a bell and single DiaCompe front brake ( I tried once going with no brakes, but then I came to my senses). A mix of 167.5 Shimano 600 cranks with 40t/16t rear make it perfect for Port Townsend hills.

So far I've had a great time riding and remembering what basic fun this can be!

Olympic S24O

With little more than an inquiry from Kent about taking a little spin for a couple days, I was in from the start, knowing that the summer was rapidly coming to a close. Matt jumped on board while the others had commitments preventing a foray into the woods (I've been on that side enough times). The weather was cloudy and warm Sunday morning, though the NOAA forecast was less positive:

Sunday: Rain likely after noon. Mostly cloudy, with a high near 68. South wind between 8 and 15 mph. Chance of precipitation is 70%.

Sunday Night: Showers likely. Cloudy, with a low around 54. South wind between 5 and 8 mph becoming calm. Chance of precipitation is 60%.

Monday: A 30 percent chance of showers. Mostly cloudy, with a high near 65. Calm wind becoming north northeast around 6 mph.

On the edge of being potentially epic-miserable, lesser fools might have had the sense to cancel said plan. With divine foresight, Matt said "I'll also bring a big tarp in case we're hanging out in the drizzle." Yep.

I had sort of a plan, that wasn't really a plan, to camp higher up in the Olympic Mountains and so on Sunday morning we all met up on the west side of the Hood Canal Bridge for a quick jaunt to Quilcene. The weather was good with a stiff southern wind. We met up and there was a general consensus for no hurrying - calm progress would be the order of the day.

We arrived at Logger's Landing restaurant for breakfast - tasty home-made corned beef hash and eggs, and by the time we left it was raining. We started our route up on Penny Creek Rd. to FS Rd. 27, a fairly nice old paved road which gains about 4000 ft to our overnight spot. For the next 4 hours plus we clawed our way up, "thinking pure thoughts" (ala Frank Zappa) about that next sunny morning we'd be appreciating. My idea was to get to Sink Lake below Mt. Townsend, which would require a short hike, but as adventures don't occur without a healthy dose of error, I choose the wrong trailhead turn and we ended up in basically an overgrown parking area at the dead end of a long gravel road. Oh well.

Now near 4PM and unlikely the rain would stop, we made camp. That tarp came in real handy - otherwise we'd be trapped in our bivy sacks for the next 12-14 hours. With the tarp, we had some moderate shelter from the drenching rain for heating water, eating and chatting, all very civilized. We decided two things could change this from merely miserable to horrid. Wind or cold. Either would have tipped the balance toward the less pleasant end of the outdoor experience. By 8PM we'd eaten enough, bear-bagged the food and gone to sleep. Three distinct snores were the only sounds for miles around. I woke up a few times, waiting till the last possible moment to put on my soggy cold shoes to go take a leak. (Hadn't considered the value of a few plastic bread bags until then). It stayed calm and foggy all night and kept on raining.

Sometime after 5:30AM everyone was up and the immediate decision was made to bail on the "up and over route" for the direct descent back to the Logger's Landing for hot food! There was no squabbling. I love a good fast drop in crappy conditions, so it wasn't long before we were packed and flying down. Wet road, slippery with moss and cracked pavement made it a good skill building exercise and twice Matt headed for the woods on a curve, but stayed upright! Kent was on a 60" fixed with a single front brake so he was more controlled. The Pereira did well with it's loaded lowriders and handlebar bag and I could take my hands off the bars and stretch my arms on the straight-aways. No shimmy at all.

About an hour later, we were down and biscuits and gravy hit the spot along with a few cups of coffee. The rain continued. We headed up Center Rd. north to Hwy 104 where Kent and Matt would head east, while I would continue north to PT. All in all a good effort, but much like spending 24 hours inside of Tupperware. We said our goodbyes at the bridge and I stated that without a doubt the sun would be shining in PT, and by golly, just 4 miles from my house I saw my shadow and felt the warmth. I should have brought sunglasses.

Photos by Kent here >>
Kent's blog post here >>

SIRs RUSA 10th Anniversary 200 km

What a fine day for a ride! Beautiful sunshine to start the day and very alert volunteers were out in force for the once-in-a-lifetime RUSA 10th Anniversary brevet. There were nearly 50 riders ready to go and despite the previous week of hesitation on my part, I was really glad to be there. Test rides the week before took the Pereira out of the mix as an incessant creak from the front wheel was driving me crazy and I couldn't resolve it. Eddy O was the backup as there would be little need for fenders.

Eric asked me to lead out folks to the first turn but that lasted all of 10 seconds as I was swamped by the first half of the pack. With a number of friends back from bike tours and 1200s, I was out-gunned from the start. A couple of us, Al, Trudy and Lyn formed a little chase group and motored our way to the Bad Carb Control. It was a quick in and out, but I somehow got a few cookies and was conscripted into poem writing for the newsletter by the irascible Maggie...Peter Leikio and I got some time to chat before heading onto the shaded roads to Banner Forest. He flatted and that was the end of our conversation unfortunately; little did I know then I would be experiencing the same many times later on. Met up with James McKee and swapped tales of parenting...he's got a way more ambitious plan than I!

Rode too with Cindi who I met at PBP 2003 - nice to reminisce about an evening of pure adrenaline as we raced across France in the dark with a couple of BC women (which also did in my Achilles for the remainder of the ride). After the info control our group formed up again and we cruised into Belfair and the Good Carb Control at Twanoh State Park. I consumed a few potatoes, orange slices, an egg and V8 for extra go power. Started out a little slower this time and had to keep reminding myself that there was still 120 km to go and the day was getting hot already.

There was constant banter about the relative flatness of the ride. I must have been hallucinating because it sure seemed like a fair amount of climbing to me! I did enjoy going down Newberry Hill Rd and the generally rolling terrain though. Crossing north of Poulsbo I stopped to see the caveman at Valley Nursery who did not complain while I soaked my head under the water can. The mist was cold and very refreshing - it also amused the people in their cars who gave me a thumbs up. Hopping onto Bond Rd. and then Big Valley brought on more heat and a good headwind, plus the start of flats. None were blowouts, just a constant stream of leaks that kept me on the side of the road more often then I like. Made it to the Liquid Carb Control at Hood Canal Brewery and enjoyed some delicious brats and spuds with a handful of chips. What a perfect location! A regular outdoor BBQ with a shady spot to sit for tire changing too.

Even making it to the Liquid Carb Control was no respite as my tire went flat soon after leaving the control. This time I was out of tubes and then an angel on a Colnago landed nearby and graciously gave me a new tube - thank you Dan Turner!! That made all the difference and heading back into Bremerton on Central Valley Rd. and Tracyton Beach Rd was a joy. I didn't even know Bremerton had a bridge until I rode over Manette Bridge. What a spectacular end to the ride and I was good and tired.

Big thanks to all the volunteers: Peter Beeson, Catherine Monro, Eric Vigoren & Maggie Williams for organizing and providing such cheery support! I will try to write a poem...really....

Handling Adversity

Watched the very riveting women's gymnastics last night and thought about a few randonneuring challenges as the US hopes for gold turned to silver. As I saw Alicia Sacramone teeter off on the beam at the very start of her routine, you could see every bit of anguish at what that meant for her, the team and the country. The look on her face was of such contained emotion I thought she would burst. Amazingly, she held it together as millions of people were watching her every move with cameras from all angles. She didn't break, and even after falling on the floor routine, kept it pretty together emotionally. That is the part that really stuck with me, her ability to maintain composure, however tenuous, despite what I would consider to be the most pressure a human could stand outside of combat. Bravo.

I thought back on what effects a problem or challenge in randonneuring seem to have on different folks, when numerous flats, physical ailments or simply the tiring efforts a long ride take on your mental control. Before I got to Mortagne au Perche in PBP and was beyond the time cut, I felt like I was done, but unlike Alicia I didn't have hundreds of cameras and viewers all over the world focused on my agony. I can't imagine what that was like and would rather not. What I did feel was that whatever it takes to keep focused on the goal is what matters, you can't do anything about some of the circumstances, but you do have control over how you handle the adversity. May I continue to have the fortitude to maintain when the going gets rough. There are some role models out there.

Goodbye Sweet Kitty

Our dear sweet cat died this morning after over 20 years of letting us share her life.

Ariadne Saduri Sunflower, aka "Schmoo", was a mercurial kitten from the animal shelter, who reached out of her cage and grabbed C's sleeve as if to say, "hey, over here, your search has ended!" As a kitten she was prone to extreme activity once the lights went out. This lead to episodes in a large box with dictionaries stacked on top, but she would still escape frequently. Schmoo spent many nights wrapped around the top of my head until she was large enough to start taking the whole pillow, causing many stiff necks. She always smelled like perfume and I thought that was somehow magical until I found that she was sleeping in C's sweater drawer during the day. She ignored two other cats that came into our lives and eventually a dog. She was always the first - the pretty princess always made sure that was not forgotten.

It's a sad day here and the universe must have understood something was not right as it started raining when she finally let out her last breath. I miss her more than I imagined and life will never be the same without her.

Circling the Hood Fleche

It started out innocently enough…what first was an inquiry from Mark Thomas’ about his team’s route, within a week became “We have room. Join us!” By 7PM on Friday the final team was assembled. The team name was “Circling the Hood”, to which I imagined more like “circling the drain”, thinking of past fleches…not to mention that I echo Kent Peterson’s statements each time with “This is stupid, I will never do this again”. Our team was Amy Pieper and Greg Cox on a tandem, Rick Haight, Tom Martin, Mark Thomas and Jon Muellner on single bikes. It was Tom’s first fleche and every one else had done a few, but it was a fairly odd group in that we all are generally pretty different in our riding pace and styles; enough that my wife Carrie thought the team name should be “Island of Misfit Toys”. I knew this was true when everyone there was on 700c tires and they looked at my 650b stated “you do have tubes for that thing, right?”
Having ridden nearly 100 miles in the past six months, I felt my preparation might be less than adequate, but I’ve done harder events with less riding before. Turns out Rick and Mark had similar base miles so we would suffer if need be. Amy softened the blow by handing us each a slice homemade banana bread at the start! This was soon followed by Tom’s realization that his light was dead, but that was sorted out and we were off.

Our route would take us from our start in Hadlock and out the smooth roads of Jefferson County across the Hood Canal Bridge and south on Hwy 3. The pace was energetic for the first couple hours, then reality set in as Tom lost his light (and found it) and Mark suffered the first flat in Gorst on the nasty highway there. He walked to where everyone was waiting and we did a nice group fix; i.e., everyone stands around and watches Mark battle with the tire and makes witty commentary amidst the occasional foul word. Another flat before the cabin was unsettling but with true grit he fixed it again and actually pulled the offending wire shard out with his teeth – now that’s the spirit!

A late night nap at Greg's cabin on Mason Lake was planned, so we rolled along Belfair Valley Rd. to East Trails End Rd. At this point we received the first shock of a serious climb and the group splintered. Actually, that was the general pattern of the whole ride, so it was not unanticipated, but as we’re all good sorts, we just did our thing and still remained a team.

At Greg’s cabin we all piled in and woke up his charming family, ate a few delicious muffins made by his daughter and sacked out for an hour. We were back on the road before 2AM and it was cold!! A nice clear night with a lemon wedge of a moon greeted us and we shivered until the blood started flowing again. We just had to stay awake for a few more hours until the sunrise and this event occupied our thoughts as we rode through Shelton and Kamilche to our furthest point in Montesano.

Most of the route was quiet and peaceful and the only sounds were Greg and Amy who never ceased talking for the entire ride. You would have thought they were sitting in a coffee shop rather than riding many miles in the cold dark. Tom was often off the front, speeding along while Rick hung with the tandem and Mark and I somewhere abaft.
We stopped at the Bee Hive Café and enjoyed some warmth, coffee and huge breakfasts, a perfect mid-ride break. By 7AM we were back on our bikes as the glorious sunshine poured down on us. We headed north from Brady and for nearly 50km enjoyed some of the best roads of the whole ride. Bodies were tired, but the warmth of real sunlight was enough to rejuvenate everyone as we headed for Hwy 101 and the final leg back north.

We all agreed to meet in Hoodsport at the café to regroup and enjoy a few pastries before starting the most hilly portion of the route. Amy and Greg decided to switch positions and have Amy captain the tandem so they did some quick adjustments. Mark headed out early for Brinnon, making sure he would be where there when everyone else was. Rick appeared unfazed by the lack of sleep or distance! Tom was soon gone and I moved out too. The team was getting a little stretched out as some got tired and others anxious. It would be about 80km till we were at our 22 hour point and it was just a lot of lumpy climbing until then.
Everyone made it to Brinnon and Mark and I arrived last. I only stayed for a moment and headed back out for Discovery Bay, knowing that even though we basically had time in the bank, the team had know spread out to absorb all of it. The Canal was beautiful with the sun glinting off the water and kingfishers swooping from tree to tree. Traffic was moderate this time of year, mainly thundering motorcycle groups came by, some of who waved as they passed. Mount Walker was fairly shady on the first part of the climb and wasn’t bad at all. Tom came by me and then Rick and I rode together. It was very warm and the headwinds after Quilcene were increasing. I began wondering how I had agreed that taking the most difficult way to PT was a good idea….

When we got to Discovery Bay at 4PM there was no Tom. We were going to meet at Fat Smitty’s (closed of course, and a surprise to the many people who also stopped to eat there). Amy and Greg arrived and then Mark, but still no Tom. I figured he was down at the little store, but then Mark figured he had gone further up to the turn on Discovery Rd. where we had mistakenly calculated would be a better 22 hour mark (it was not even close once we actually thought about it). Finally Mark found the number for the store and Tom had to return to where we were by 5PM. Here’s where the rules of the fleche get dicey. We all have to be here at 22 hours, and hoped he could get here in time!

At 4:55PM he rode in and we all signed cards. Mark informed us that he might not make it and that we should go without him. Turns out he was leaving bits of lunch along the way from Quilcene. Being the team we were, we totally voiced our disagreement with that decision and then promptly took off, leaving him to battle it alone. That’s the spirit!

I know these roads well, so I led Tom and Rick up the Hwy 20 climb (2 miles long) to Discovery Rd, then the climb up Cape George (1 mile +), then up a few more lumpy bits to my house as the final control. Within minutes everyone had made it! The Circling the Hood fleche team had successfully taken 5 very different riders, most lacking any miles, and transformed them into one cohesive cycling machine. Well, maybe that’s stretching it a bit, but we finished and everyone still likes each other!

A huge thanks to Greg’s lovely family for putting us up, the sun for making us feel good about living and my wife Carrie and friend Laura who shuttled vehicles at the start. It was a great team but maybe next year we should do the route in reverse?

240 mile Pereira Road Test

After many months I've finally got a decent ride in on the new Pereira!! I picked the bike up from Tony after the NAHBS on Feb 10 and rode about 20 miles over the week before I headed to CO for two months. Poor thing sat in the basement waiting patiently...

I got back the first week of April and rode three days on club rides, about 20, 25 and 35 miles. Then, on Wed. I was invited to join a 24-hour team ride called a fleche (an traditional spring randonneuring event) and I decided to go for it. Of course, choosing to ride 240 miles in 24 hours is not necessarily wise, but it sounded like fun and I'd done 3 or 4 others in past years, so why not?

I decided to take the Pereira of course, though again, choosing a new bike for a long ride is not always wise either...but it really wanted to get out there and prove itself like a faithful companion, so off we went! This is what the bike was built for and it was really nice having it all ready to go; no zip-tie doohickys holding fenders, lights and other bits in place, no electrical tape holding things together, no funky bag mounting. Everything is as it should be. I swapped out the new Brooks Pro for a used Swift as I knew the new one was not broken in, otherwise all was set. Hetres pumped to about 50psi, chain lubed.

We left at 7PM on Friday night from Hadlock and rode down around the east side of the Hood Canal and out toward the Pacific coast to Montesano arriving at 6AM, then back along the west side back to Port Townsend to finish near 7PM Saturday. The first third was fairly flat and fast, the middle third lumpy and the final third was very hilly. (Why we plan things this way I'll never know...). The Pereira not only did admirably climbing and descending, I could change jackets while riding no hands, and best of all, finished feeling not nearly as beat up as I normally would. We fit together well and I felt confident in it's handling, so there were no nervous moments. Even with the fat tires, the bike feels fast and smoothes out the road, there were no flats despite riding over some brutal debris strewn highway stretches.

The bolts on the handlebar bag decaleur and all three cages had to be tightened, but that was the extent of the fiddling for the whole ride. I need to move the saddle ahead a tiny bit and level the handlebars a smidge, but otherwise the fit was perfect. I can see many happy miles ahead and I can't wait to get it up in the Olympic Mountains for some forest road exploration.

After some sleep and food, I'm ready to go again!

Meadow Creek/Chief Mountain

A gorgeous Easter morning for exploring some new places with my recent friends Jon and JC. A pretty nice climb up from the Meadow Creek trailhead through the aspens in the beginning. I opted for a lighter set of gear and leather boots which worked better uphill than down!


We came out into an open area with views of the Gore Range and Lake Dillon below. The weather was unbelievably perfect with blue skies and fairly warm temps, but oddly cooler than late March should be.


Jon and JC at the top, about 11,300 feet with the dogs, Sally and Charlie yipping and ready for the descent. Peak 1 & 2 near Breckenridge in the background.


I also got a picture of me, but no dogs to make it more glamorous...


The descent was awesome at the top, nice and powdery but the skinny skis were out of their league in the tighter trees below. The trail down was pretty luge-like in places, but I got a few good turns in despite a few crashes and near misses. My huge GS turns weren't quite right for the terrain, so next time it's plastic and fat boards!

A big thanks to Jon and JC for taking me out, it was a perfect day!!

Tucker Mountain Day

Copper Mountain had a fabulous amount of snow last week and I did some hiking to the west ridge of Copper Bowl and some snow cat skiing on Tucker Mountain. Ah, bliss. The day was all sunny in the morning and I was on first chair most of the time. The busy spring break time is all but forgotten once you get to the top.


This is looking at the saddle between Copper Bowl and Tucker Mountain with Jaque's Peak in the background. Mostly untracked whiteness...a perfect playground if you're willing to hike. Next week I'll bring skins for a speedier ascent.

A month gone already?

Wow, time flies in the land of whiteness. Just a spectacular amount of fun these days with more snow each week making the days a blur of ski time and shoveling. Took a trip to Ski Cooper where the 10th Mountain Division practiced during WWII and enjoyed a family day in the sun. Leadville is a perfect little town if you're priced out of all the boutique spots. Access to backcountry skiing is close and there's lots of bars to hang in. 10,700 feet and there's no better altitude.


Neighborhoods are a cool collection of folks who aren't wearing fur and Uggs looking for a cocktail. I could see myself here in a heartbeat.


Between some telemark days there's always some XC to be had and Saturday was cold and sunny so I went out for almost 25km. Truly beautiful.


This week is spring break for loads of kids, college and otherwise, so I get out early and get back early. Backcountry weeds out most pretty quickly and a hour or two hike or skin provides some untouched white.


This week is just one continuous day of skiing with some friends in town. It's snowing again and we can only hope for more! One more month of this and things will be OK again...

Ah, Colorado at Last!

My first week in CO concludes with a fabulous showshoe trip up near Rainbow Lake with snow falling everywhere and sunshine coming through the flakes. This is heaven!

5 days of XC skiing, telemarking and snowshoeing so far and another two months still to go. Life is good. I work at night everyday, but it's manageable so far and this is just the place I want to be. Teaching my daughter Peri to ski has been both a joy and a challenge, but she seems to be liking it more as she gains confidence and experience...and it's fun to just have a few weeks of Dad and pre-teen kid time.

Peri is a master sculpter of "cheese wax", the stuff that cheese is wrapped in...today she made a few characters for the table:


The "snow" is salt she poured on the table. Yep, two little skiers out on a run. Wednesday she was out on 190cm XC skis, so she's learning the old-fashioned way; on hand-me-down gear. More fun is in store for next week!

Pereira 650b Hetre Randonneur arrives!

First meeting...I love it!

I've got my new bike! An exciting time at the Handmade Bicycle Show in Portland capped off by taking home my Pereira. It is truly a beautiful bike and everything I imagined when Tony and I started talking about it. He was very patient with our voluminous email correspondence.

It started in March 2006 the day after the show ended after having seen the randonneur bicycle he built for the show and won Best of Show with. I had already been working on modifying a canti-Romulus for the brevet season, but knew I wanted something much more substantial for some of the off-road touring I had in mind too. I also wanted to have 650b tires for something new and they seemed to be well worth building my idea around. Word was that there were going to be some new Gran Bois Hetre 650b x 42mm tires available and that's what I wanted Tony to design for. Problem was, they didn't even exist when we began and only came to the US in November!

It all came together and I wanted some specific elements in addition to the fat tires: stem with bell and removable faceplate, removable low-rider racks, minimal to zero TCO, low trail for better handling with a handlebar bag, triple water bottle mounts, light mounts front and rear and really perfect confident handling.

Test rides this week have proven that it does all I wished for and I can't wait to take it on further trips and rougher terrain. I'll be skiing for the next two months and then back riding in April!

Built with Columbus Life tubing with a custom double plate crown fork (60mm rake/40mm trail). Rides so well I may not need other bikes! More pictures here. The color is a green/grey with a sort of mossy brown logo and box lining - hard to photograph but really nice. The polished bronze brazed-on head badge looks awesome.

Too many bikes?

Well, it's been a month since I've written anything here and I felt it was time. Work and home issues have absorbed most of life and riding has been limited. I pick up my Pereira at the NAHBS 2008 in Portland February 10th. I'm very excited to hit the road on such a beautiful purpose-built bike; finally something I don't have to kludge together to work well. It'll be my 47th b-day present to myself.

So that leaves the eternal question of what to do with all the bikes I still have. Do I need them? The Pereira will take the place of the Heron Road, Canti-Rom and the Heron Tour. So what to do? I enjoy them all, but do I need them? Right now I'll hang onto them until I've ridden the Pereira enough to know, but if it fulfills what I want, I may be reducing the inventory...the only bike I won't get rid of is one of the Merckx', which I still find incredibly fun to ride and unlike anything else I have. Just have to decide between the Corsa 01 and the MXL. (Sheesh, I feel like a greedy, rich bike slut for even saying that). I have regretted selling other bikes in the past (1982 Schwinn Paramount), so I don't want to do anything without thinking it through.

I'll be in CO till April, working on new business opportunities and skiing of course. I love cycling, but miss being in the snow too much. I like to take a break from riding in the winter and cross-country/telemark skiing are perfect complimentary sports. There's nothing better than powder days in the high mountains. I won't get back to randonneuring until July with family trips and home remodeling to do.

If you're interested in a Fuso FR-1 or a Bob Jackson 50th jubilee frame, let me know...it's unlikely I'll have any time to play with those sweet bikes in this lifetime.

Pereira Front Lowrider Racks

So here's the first shot of the low-rider pannier racks. They are removable with three allen bolts so that I only need to put them on for some tours or long rides. I would use something like Madden Lizards on them, but they should be able to mount a variety of bags.
The bike will be at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show on Feb. 8-10 in Portland, OR. It'll be the first time I see it all complete and I will take it home from there. Come join the fun and see it!

Pereira 650b Custom in Progress

Tony Pereira has been working on my frame this fall and I've got some photos taken at the Portland Handmade Bike Show by Alex Wetmore and Micheal Huber (thanks guys!). It's coming along really nicely!

The concept behind the design was to create a light-weight 650b randonneuring and fast touring bike that could use the new 650b x 42mm Gran Bois Hetre tires. It's a big set of rubber, but I've been so happy with my 700c x 30mm Gran Bois tires I knew it was worth the effort to go for something along the same lines. The fork is a custom double-plate design with a front rack and removable low-rider pannier racks. No rear rack.

Mafac Raid centerpull brake calipers will provide stopping power and do so with a bit less weight than other options. I debated whether to go with canti's, but figured I'd do something less ordinary.

The stem is also custom and will include a bell and some option for supporting the Ravena handlebar bag. I have some Madden front panniers for the time being when the low-rider racks are mounted.

The Pereira "pear" badge looks nice on the headtube and I'm leaning toward a mossy green single color for the frame. I can't wait for it to be on the road!

A bit more work on racks and details and we should be getting very close to having this beauty in full riding mode. I plan on bringing it into the Olympics and Cascades on gravel adventure routes, and the big Hetres should be a welcome change from the 30mm I have been using.

I plan on posting more as things go along, so stay tuned!

Chartres Cathedral

After PBP, Bob and I decided to take a trip to Chartres and visit the cathedral there. We bought train tickets, but soon found ourselves on the wrong train. We solved it by riding a different line and just getting off where we needed to, so all was not lost.

We stopped for some Greek lunch and strolled through the quiet streets to the cathedral that dominates the town's skyline. The weather was absolutely perfect. A sculpture park is nearby and provides a sharp contrast to the ancient buildings nearby.



As a very important pilgrimage and dating originally from the 4th century, this cathedral was one of the most impressive human-constructed and awe-inspiring places I have ever been. The current visible structure actually dates from around 1194, with the crypts from much earlier with some of the 6th century remains under the choir.

The main entrance is on the West Front and we entered through the right door which represents the seven liberal arts and the Virgin Mary of course. I felt like I should have paid better attention when I got my humanities degree...



From the moment you enter, the interior simply swallows you whole and it amazes with every glance. It doesn't matter that there are numerous other people there; the space is so vast that all sound is mainly respectful silence.



Chartres is known for it's stained glass, but from inside I found that taking any photo of them never did them justice. On a sunny, bright day like this they were glowing.



The choir screen was most interesting to me, an immense story told in panels, intricately carved and overwhelming in scope. These were done between the 1500 and 1700's. There are 41 niches in total. This photo is just one of the pillars between them!



In the nave there in an immense labyrinth in stone. It represented the path one would take to salvation, but also made me think of what a timeless shape the circle makes, whether mandala or bicycle wheel.



Bob and I spent a few hours inside and then strolled the grounds, soaking up the sun and reveling in the views. The areas around complement the cathedral and on a day like this really made us want to stay.



We spent more time walking around the cathedral, but realized that we could spend weeks here and barely scratch the surface. next time, an extended stay will be included! Highly recommended to all who make their way to PBP.

"Suck it up mate, ride it in"

And so begins the saga of Paris-Brest-Paris 2007...

Perseverance

1. steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., esp. in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.


2. continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.

Getting to France was a fairly easy experience, inexpensive plane tickets for Bob Brudvik and myself and a little hotel arranging and we were on our way. We arrived on 17 August, fairly rested after the long flight (where I met my friend Angelica and her husband Scott on their way to South Africa - big surprise!). We met my father at the CDG airport and he helped us schlep bike boxes and luggage from Terminal 1 to the RER B, then Metro 10 and to RER C into St. Quentin en Yvelines (under 10 euros for the trip).

Arriving at 11:30 a.m., we were ready to get on with the tasks before the ride, including rebuilding bikes and eating a copious amount of food. The first dinner was with the "doctors"; Ken, Vic and Tom at Pizza Pino, our usual hangout at the Campanile. The wait staff were all wearing Paris-Brest grey and black jerseys, so you get the idea that this event has some real impact on the local economy. First night's sleep was welcome.

Group ride to Montfort l'Amaury

Had breakfast with Bob, Ray, Peter and Mark, then headed out for a nice ride to Montfort l'Amaury, a beautiful little town on the route about 25 km west. We pillaged the boulangerie and strolled the wonderful church next door, then headed up to the ancient castle at the top of the town. (Cell towers up there were camouflaged as pine trees; why can't such ideas be used in the US?) We then headed back and I got a bit lost on the run in to the finish, but no worries. Met my Dad for lunch, a delicious bacon and pasta cream dish. Later, we found a room for my him and we were set. Later on we met Emily and Jake from Boston area (riding fixed) and we had some beers in the lobby. My Dad was also the proud owner of a white and lemon green fendered city bike we'd gotten at GoSport for him to cruise around on.

Dad's new cruiser

Sunday 19 August - Breakfast with Steve and Peggy Rex along with Mark, Bob and Peter was an amusing start to the day. A little rain caused the organizers to forgo the bike check, so we got our papers and brevet cards in the massive cavern of the Gymnase des Droits de l'Homme. I finally ran into Martin Newstead from the UK who I'd met on Raid Pyrenee 2003 and he was looking fit and ready. (I hadn't ridden more than 100 miles a week and typically much less for the preceding 8 weeks, so my fitness would come in the first two days of PBP I figured).

Martin signs in

Loads of bikes of every sort covered the track outside. Saw Gregg Bleakney who had the cool job of taking photos of all the US riders during the event and meeting Rob Hawks on his Dave Yates from CA. Lots of excitement in the air and I could hardly think straight with all the people and input! We took our SIR group photo, which took dozens of attempts, but we did it. The topic for many was weather, but I rather enjoyed the prospect of rain knowing that heat would be far more challenging for me.

Many group photos ensued outside the hotel and I was happily surprised by Steve from Australia, another droggie from the Raid. We scoot up for a few Pelforths with Michael Huber and my Dad and then head out for food. Pino was packed and Peggy's invite to dinner proved impossible to accomplish. We ended up at a little bar/cafe Steve had been to before and had a really wonderful, humorous evening! A perfect pre-ride night.

Monday 20 August - Couldn't sleep past 4 a.m., so I got up and watched the wind-lashed rain pounding down in the courtyard. This was not going to be the nice weather ride many wanted. I felt good and was more than prepared for nasty weather, so it was fine with me. Took a 3 hour nap and then started to get anxious for the first time when the start was about 4 hours away. Steve, my Dad and I ate dinner and then it was time to go. The start for the 80-hour riders was pretty dry, but by the time we entered the field around 9 p.m., rain was threatening and within 10 minutes of our leaving at 10:30 p.m. it was pouring. C'est la vie! I lost all the SIR folks I was with, but that's par for the course and I ride alone anyway, so I kept in with the Russian, Danish, Swedish and British riders. Met a CA rider named Dan (who I told we'd meet again) and we headed out into the long, wet night.

Looking back at the 10:30 p.m. starters

Tuesday 21 August - I felt great. Numerous languages created a cacophony of sound amid the hissing tires and brake squeals as the wave snaked its way from St. Quentin to the first unofficial control in Mortagne au Perche at 140 km.

Tuesday morning's wet streets

I had enough food stashed to get to Villanes la Juhel, so I only stopped to top off bottles and kept going. Enjoyed the company of Ralph and Carol on their tandem since Fresnay sur Sarthe where I had stopped for a "planair" pastry and a Coke. Carol had calculated all the hills, gradients and heights, so they knew what they needed for each leg. I just hung on for the downhills! Arrived in Villanes la Juhel before 9:30 a.m. and had skipped the main food lines for a petit dejeuner of soup and jambon sandwich in the bar. Rode out with Emily and Jake, but their fixed and my multiple gears soon separated us.

First control madness in Villanes la Juhel

Leaving Villanes la Juhel

Rode hard to Fougeres, thinking about getting a little rest there before continuing to Carhaix. The rain continued off and on and I was thoroughly soaked, but the wool SIR jerseys did their magic and I was comfortable. Very fortunate that the air temps were never cold, even at night and no booties were needed, my feet were wet but never chilled. They even dried out a bit in the wind when it wasn't raining! My "plan", loose as it was, was two-fold. One, finish the ride. Two, don't get hurt. To accomplish that I never pushed myself very hard so as not to blow up. The first 20 hours I could feel my left Achilles acting up, and that tempered any out of the saddle sprinting I might have entertained in the first day's excitement. After that period, I didn't have any problems with it. Quick stop in Fougeres.

Rain riders

On the way to Fougeres

Made it to Tinteniac in the day time and was feeling great still. The 84 hour riders were already showing up and I had the pleasure of seeing Amy, Lola and Robin at the tent where we shared some soup/mashed potatoes and a good chat. Joel Metz was there too and the rain had stopped. Robin and I rode together from there and flew for the next 40 km pulling a stack of riders toward Loudeac, but I had to beg off and return to my "safe" mode to save the body. Robin was looking fab and caught a fast train as it came by. The last hour or two into Loudeac I was feeling very sleepy, so I was happy when the control came.

Somewhere near Dinge I had the pleasure of running into Jan-Olov Jansson from the iBOB/Touring lists and we had a few nice kms of chatting about all things bike-related, including the Audux PBP he rode in 2006 with 6 other Swedes. A very nice experience and of all places to meet! We would see each other a few times during the ride. Below are a few of the cafes I stopped at along the way. This year, the goal was to enjoy the ride and that included many stops for treats...saw Owen a few times and it was nice to meet his friend Andy from Atlanta (who could be my twin according to Owen!)

"Ok, one pastry"

"I need a cafe au lait with that"

"Jambon et frommage, oui!"

Wednesday 22 August - In Loudeac I ran into Shane and Matt while eating my riz et poisson. They were looking a bit road weary, as did we all. They headed off for sleep and I laid down for a nap on the table. An hour or so later I woke up with every limb asleep!! I felt like a block of wood and it took a good fifteen minutes to get up. I must have looked pathetic, flailing my useless arms like some rag doll. Saw Peg and Steve and they were looking good. More rain through the night, but I still felt good though tired. The sleep had helped to get my brain focused and so it was just a matter of turning the pedals. The night was wet and a little windy.

Navigating roundabouts: very amusing

Carhaix-Plouguer was busy, but I made it through pretty quickly...things already getting a bit foggy memory-wise. Greg Bleakney was out taking photos on the moto and we had a good chat as he took shots through the night. It was very cool and must have been interesting for him to see all the different facets of riders and conditions in a short time. It's what makes a long ride like this fascinating, as during any hour of the night or day, riders go though all sorts of changes in attitude, health, and weather. What you see or feel at one point will be totally different the next. I hooked up with some folks for the run into Brest and a rider came by saying that Jason Wenstrom was just a bit behind me on one of the climbs. We finally met up and I met Tom from PBP 2003 again too! What a surprise. He was looking really fresh and asked about Bob who just then passed us on his way back from Brest on the downhill from Roc Trevezel! Coincidence?? Anyway, Jason, Tom and I did a steady pace up the climb and down the other side, anxious to get to the turnaround point.

Normandy countryside

I forgot about the 40 km of riding after the climb, so I used too much energy and had a vicious cramp in my right thigh. I have never had one of those before so I pulled over to drink and eat some Tums. A couple of grandparents and their grandkids had stopped for a picnic and we garbled our way through the language barrier. The grandpa just loved America! I gave them a pin from Port Townsend and took their photo:

Picnicking grandparents

Enter Brest on Wednesday

Made it to Brest about 2:30 p.m. - far later than the 9 a.m. from 2003. I ran into Damon Peacock (who I'd met in 2003) and he did some video of me coming into Brest and also some shots as I sent some of Steve Hameister's ashes into the sea from the bridge. Well Steve - you made it this far with me!

Control at Brest

Beautiful Sizun

Felt good and grabbed a quick drink before heading back out to get some real food back in Sizun, one of my favorite towns on the route. There I stopped and got some smoked ham, good cheese and fruit from the grocery. (This after ordering a few items that they could not heat for me, but I didn't understand until my savior Isabelle came by to ask if I needed help! She got me through it and I finally had some food). I met Isabelle and Jean-Philippe Battu on their Follier tandem and we had rode together and chatted for a long time. They knew Max from SIR from eight years ago and were absolutely delightful to ride with. Heck, I'd make a special trip over here just to do that! I hope to see them again soon.

Isabelle and Jean-Philippe Battu

Now the return...back to Carhaix-Plouguer and Loudeac. I was tired, but still felt quite good physically. A little more rain, of course, but that was par for the course. Nothing I had was dry anymore, so any attempt at getting dry was fruitless. Somewhere along the line I met up with Dan from the start again and had a pomme crepe, cafe and some pizza with him and his friends, which was an enjoyable break in the night.

Thursday 23 August - By the time I arrived in Loudeac at 2:00 a.m. all I wanted was food and sleep. The carnage was everywhere. Every possible warm and dry spot was taken by a wet body, and I had a difficult time even finding a place to park my bike. Finally stuck it behind the semi trailer near the bar. After getting my control cards signed and swiped, I made my way to the self-serve food and got a pear and soup to consume. I found a table near the door that idiots kept walking in through and leaving open. It was irritating and when Martin and Jim Churton showed up we had a serious conversation about certain riders lacking social skills. Exhaustion is no excuse for inconsiderate behavior!

Martin and Jim were off to a camp Jim's wife set-up about 20 km down the road for a rest and I would have stayed indoors except for the door issue. Too wet, cold and tired to try and find another spot inside, I grabbed my space bivy and headed for the far side of the building where only one other rider was. I pulled the rubber entry mat over to a darker spot out of the rain and crawled in. Already shivering, I hoped my food would soon add some heat. At least I had my wool cap and that helped as it was the only thing not totally drenched. Unbelievably, I slept for two hours. Woke up very cold, disoriented and still very wet. It took every once of energy to fold the blanket, gather my helmet and gloves and stumble awkwardly to the food line inside.

Carnage

I ran into Joel and he looked beat. I stood shivering while waiting for some bangers and mash with an orange juice to wash it down. It took me a long time to get back to the bike and head out. At the time I thought this was my most difficult time on the ride, my brain was so slow. When I finally headed out all I thought of was making it to Fougeres and nothing else. It was a half hour before I began to warm up and could start to think again. The cold, wet sleep I had must have helped as I felt much better arriving in Fougeres; I don't remember Tinteniac at all!

The rain had ceased in the early afternoon and I pulled into Fougeres slightly drier than the day had begun. I met Martin and Jim again and we had dinner with Eric in the cafeteria. Omelet and frites, fruit cocktail with cafe au lait. Jim and his wife are the only foreigners to have ridden all the Diagonales de France; quite an accomplishment. The idea was intriguing to Eric, and a spirited discussion arose as to what it would take to be the first American to do so. Final consensus: know French. We all headed out to our bikes and I was about to leave when it dawned on me that I actually had one set of dry shorts and socks!! Yeah! I felt great and was ready to finish the 320 km back to St. Quentin.

Cow crossing halts progress!

The ride was going nicely, not as fast as last time, but I was physically in good shape and fairly rested. I ran into a BC rider and we motored along taking photos of each other before Le Louroux where we stopped at the famous La Tanneire crepe and cafe stop. Ran into Mike Norman and we chatted a bit. Then off again as evening approached.

La Tanneire crepe stand

And so it begins...near Gorron I started to feel a little queasy, which I just thought was normal for the length of time on the bike and all the food. In another few km I was really starting to go downhill and was overcome with waves of nausea. It was dark by now and the hills were getting more difficult as more effort meant feeling sicker. It started to rain. My body was telling me news I didn't want to hear and I couldn't even drink water without feeling like throwing up. In Loupfougeres I hurled violently while riding along a descent all over my right sleeve. I quickly pulled over and spent ten minutes dispensing every once of sustenance out on the side of the road. I overheard someone say in English, "oh, that doesn't look good", and by then I thought I was done with it. My head hurt, but I wanted to continue on, being so close to Villaines la Juhel. I needed to lie down and try and regroup.

Wrecked. That's all I felt. At the control I was shattered. From feeling so good to this in only 50 km. Dazed I found a place for my bike and stumbled into the control at 10:39 p.m. to get the card signed. I couldn't eat or drink and the smell of food in the facility made me feel worse. I propped myself in a corner and slept, but woke up stiff-necked and cold soon after. I went outside to be sick again and got my bivy. Back inside I found a place at a table and crawled inside the bivy, where I went to sleep immediately. Sometime later I woke up and quickly left to get some air; I didn't want to be sick inside. I knew I had to make it to Mortagne au Perche before the time cut, but once on the bike I went from moment to moment either getting sick or dry-heaving as I was already empty. Every sip of water came up with a vengence, so I stopped trying anymore. I was so very thirsty and could hardly talk to anyone.

Things get weird

The struggle for the next control became epic as I could only pedal with enough effort to move forward, but any more I'd feel terrible. I was glad only for the rain which seemed to wash me clean every hour. During this time I ran into Jake Kassen from Boston and we rode together a bit. I couldn't talk much and always felt like barfing. He was doing well and being with him took my mind off my stomach. At one point we were flying down through a small town and he mis-judged a corner and caught the curb near the cobbles. Down he went and a few of us stopped to see if he was injured. A few scrapes, but nothing major and very lucky not to hit the steel rails a few feet in. I stayed with him a while longer to make sure he was feeling OK, then had to go alone as I needed to use the downhills to recover some time.

Morning light came and I finally pulled into Mortagne au Perche at 6:26 a.m., nearly an hour after the close. Not only did I feel like shit, I'd also been knocked out of the ride officially. The control worker made the sign of getting my head lopped off, which I wouldn't have minded at the time actually. I decided to throw caution to the wind and ordered three Oranginas which I drank one after the other, not caring whether they came up again or not. Then I crawled into my bivy and slept for two hours straight.

When I awoke, control workers were tearing down everything and I wandered a bit aimlessly till I came upon Jeff Tilden who had broken a pedal a few kms out of the control. He was looking for a replacement or some way to make it in and I offered him my cleats and pedals, thinking I was done and would be taking a train anyway. We couldn't get his cleats off, so he called his brother Brad who would trade him his pedals and forgo his own ride to get Jeff to the finish. Bravo.

The control workers were very nice and I got the number for the Campanile to leave a message for my Dad with Jeff's cell phone. It was a cryptic message about looking for a train and not being on time. I found out later he got it from Peter and he and Bob hung out at the train station waiting for much of Friday. That was the part I felt worse about...my Dad waiting for me at the finish and me still 140 kms away. I felt I let him down and was still trying to imagine how this ride could have spiraled down so far. I stood with a few folks talking about trains when the defining moment of the day came.

An Aussie rider from the 84 hour group came up with a 90 hour friend he was nursing in and overheard our conversation. He looked me in the eye and just said "Suck it up mate, ride it in". And that was it. The perfect answer right there. Sure, I couldn't eat anything or drink much, but I sure as hell could still ride. Everything still worked. So, off I went.

The beauty never stops

The road to Dreux is rolling and the terrain becomes easy as you head back to the finish. I was emotional and went through bouts of feeling really bad about things, to anger at not making the time cut. Some tears, some pain, interspersed with nausea and a growing problem with the runs. Great: two exits, no waiting. The time plodded on as I went from fast paced time-trialing to stops in the woods, to moments of dry-heaving. It was like a nightmare that would never end, but the rain had pretty much ceased, so my clothes started to dry. Not all is lost.

I met up with a very tired looking Frenchman and we traded pulls into the control. They were pretty much closed up by then, about 3 p.m., but managed to sign cards. I ate an apple, a pear and a banana; my first food since Fougeres nearly 250 km ago. I could drink small sips of water every half hour and keep it down, so that at least helped. I ran into Mitchell, who was mad at the world and basically told him to keep moving. There was not much else to do. The end was in sight and I just wanted to be finished. A woman in Marsanceux clapped as I went by and gave me an apple.

Lonely Dreux control

Despite the troubles, I enjoyed the final kms, knowing that I had actually ridden in and did not quit. The final 25 km went quickly till a flat in the Rambouillet forest and another only 2km from the finish. I pulled in the Gymnase des Droits de l'Homme to some applause from the few folks left at 9:51 p.m. and was done. What a journey.

Sleepy riders litter the roads

Found Bob and Michael helping someone pack their bike, they were all clean and happy. We strolled back to the hotel, where I wanted to see my Dad and let him know I was OK. I finally found him in his room and he treated me to some bread, cheese and a glass of wine. It was my first sustenance in many hours and felt good, even if I knew it might not stay down. I showered and went to bed. It was nice to have my Dad there and I know he felt better too. It's hard to be a parent sometimes...

The final sweet towns

Thanks to the unknown Aussie for putting it all in perspective. I owe you one mate. And to my father: thanks for sharing some of this grand event with me, I Love You.

Was it a difficult ride? For me, only the food poisoning or whatever it was really made the ride challenging. The rest is all part and parcel of a 1200 km. They are long events and present issues you can never totally plan for. The temperatures were warm and I'd rather be wet than too hot. As my 2nd PBP finish, I was much more comfortable with everything and the 3rd should be another good time!

Follow the dog...

Lessons Learned: no more need for saddle balm; just good fitting shorts. Gloves are not always your friends. Riding within your means is just good sense. Write down rider numbers when meeting folks and be better about note-taking (though I improved on this ten-fold compared to 2003). Learn to speak more French!

Equipment: I rode unsupported with my modified Rivendell Canti-Romulus with 9sp DT shifters and front Berthoud bag and rear Jandd Mountain Wedge III. Everything worked perfectly. The Gran Bois 700x30 tires were awesome, only my stash of tubes were bad! I carried a small umbrella for the whole ride, but never used it....

A small quiet ceremony with me, Michael Huber and Bob Brudvik as we place Steve Hameister's ashes in the flower beds of Rond-Point de Saules at the PBP finish. He finished the ride and his spirit lives on.