I got an early start driving
down to Newberg, OR. I left my house in Seattle at 12:45 in the afternoon. This
was a full two hours before I had left, a few weeks earlier (also on a Friday), to go down for
an OR brevet. This earlier departure paid off. Traffic was only horrendous through
Fife. Later, when I crossed the Columbia on I-205, it was stop-n-go for about nine miles, but by
then it was the heart of rush hour.
Ron H had contacted me
a few days earlier. He'd found a room at the Notel (not far from the
start/overnight/finish of the 600k). After I'd been there for a few
hours, I figured Ron (who as it turned out wasn't able to leave Seattle until after work) had
had a change of heart/plans. Another reason I drove alone was because I had a sore knee and it was an unknown
parameter going into this ride. I figured if I DNFed VERY early (as Ron H would suggest!), it wouldn't be necessary to wait
around until 3:00 a.m. Monday (which was when Ron planned to drive back).
Eventually I hit the
sack. About 1:00 a.m. I found myself awake, so decided to check
e-mail. While sitting at the computer, who should arrive but Mr.
Brevet himself (Ron). He hadn't been able to leave work until 7:00 p.m.
(though that had meant he dodged a LOT of traffic).
We woke to sun (as
forecast). We got to the start early enough to do some schmoozing.
Mike Bingle was there (doing the 200k, which shared some of the 600k
course). He mentioned having done the OR spring 200k (his 22nd
consecutive, going all of the way back to the early Marvin Rambo RBA days).
The veteran Del Scharffenberg
was also there (also doing the 200k). Why were all of these heavy hitters
doing the 200k? What did THEY know?
And then we were off. It
was flat, or gently rolling, for a while. Then eventually we were working
our way into the Coast Range. At one point a cue said 3 miles to the
summit. Once there, the route descended. But NO, we hadn't actually
crossed the Coast Range yet, so we had to go back up. Near the actual summit, the heat was
oven-like. This was due to exposure to the sun and shelter from the
wind. Sigh. Sweat poured into my eyes (and burned!).
On the way down there was a
control. This would be the last time I'd see other riders until the next
day.
Nearing the coast, the wind
picked up, mercifully giving a break from the heat. We hit US 101 at
Lincoln City and headed north. But then, for reasons NOT
known to me, we ended up having to climb once again, back up into some big
hills. In terms of distance, this was totally unnecessary. So, the climbing was definitely
gratuitous. We went all of the way up to the elevation we would later
cross the coast mountains at on our
return! This is the sort of thing I dislike about randonneuring.
I was back down to the coast
for sunset (and an info control). Then I followed the Little Washtucna
Road to climb back over the coast range.
Eventually I was out of the
mountains and came to the Casino at Grande Ronde. There is a minimart/gas
station there, so I had a snack and continued.
My pedaling went fairly
smoothly during the night. To my surprise, I NEVER became drowsy!
I made it back to the room, in
Newberg, at about 4:30. It was fairly light out. I believed the
control closed at 5:20. Imagine my delight when I looked at
the cue sheet and it said 6:20!!!! So I got about an hour of sleep.
I had some breakfast and then I told Ron (who was almost, but not quite, ready) that I needed to hit the road and
that he would catch me shortly.
When he caught me, later, en
route to St. Paul and Salem, he said a brief word ... and then passed me
like I was standing still.
I had a nightmare of a time
getting out of Salem. I did about six extra miles (I think) and lots of
unnecessary climbing. Then I was back on route, following the
Willamette River. Looking at the cue sheet, NOW, I see a horrendous
error!!!!! Sigh. Another thing to dislike about randonneuring. And I think the Garmin could have
been more helpful but was NOT.
I somehow managed to arrive at
the first control, Independence, just before cut-off. I finally saw a few
other riders, leaving.
From there the course took us
to a very short ferry crossing of the Willamette River. The temperature
was already scorching so another rider (who would leapfrog me this
day) and I both were pleased they sold ice cream bars on the vessel. This
was one of the few things I could get myself
to eat in this heat.
From the far side I set out,
for what would be a mostly flat stretch, to the nadir of our loop,
Waterloo. I thanked God that my last name was NOT
Bonaparte. The other rider, whom I had not seen since leaving the ferry, somehow arrived at the control AFTER me.
Waterloo was a fairly
nondescript place. It did have a nice park. Not much retail was
apparent. The store which was the control did have ice cream
sandwiches and cold Gatorade. No public restrooms. That always sort
of offends me. But the young woman behind the counter was quite pleasant and even said something about enjoying all of
us cyclists stopping in.
Now we headed north from
Waterloo, into the headwinds. They seemed to roar at times, probably
something that only happens on very hot days (like today!).
And now it was time for my
second nightmare of the day. Nearing Scio (the last control before the
finish), there was a 7.9 mile section on Richardson Gap Road. To
give myself psychological assurance that eventually I would actually arrive at
my turn, I zoomed out, on the Garmin, until
I could see the next road. And then I pedalled, and pedalled, but the
little dot that represented ME did not seem to move. For a while I thought it was because I had zoomed out so far.
Eventually I realized the device had frozen. I rebooted and the course
would not come up!
Eventually the road I was on
started to bend in the correct direction (which didn't feel particularly good
because it had become incredibly steep). I walked the
bike. At least there was shade. Eventually I came upon Ridge
Drive. Yeah, you don't get to a road with a name like that without a lot of climbing. Or, in my case, a lot
of unnecessary climbing. I headed the correct direction. Then I saw
a young woman getting out of a car
and I asked her for directions to Scio. I was indeed headed in the
correct direction. And, I had indeed done some unnecessary climbing.
After Scio the cue sheet said
Stayton would be the last place to get provisions. You guessed it: time
for another ice cream sandwich and a large bottle of cold Gatorade.
And now it was the final
push. Looking at the clock, hors delai looked possible. Finishing
on time also looked possible. Eventually the route crossed
I-5. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon. I changed to
clear lenses. It was too hot to put the official SIR reflective vest on.
The route touched Champoeg
State Park, then got on SR-219 to cross the Willamette River. After
crossing what seemed like a never ending series of bridges, there was a sign
that said "Welcome to Newberg" but WHERE were the bright
lights!? The course worked its way back to the start via a few backstreets. And then I scrambled to find a
place that was open so I could get a receipt. I found a Circle K:
22:43! Heck, I should have still
been out on the course.
I sat on the curb, nursing my
bottle of cold water (purchased to get the receipt) and reflected on the
ride. During the ride, perhaps even before, I decided this would
be long enough for me, that I didn't want to go to PBP and torture myself over an even longer distance.
Now it is two days later, and
even though my body still feels bruised and battered, I'm again wrestling with
doing the final qualifier (I still need a 400k). Such a
stress free existence we lead!
