Blogger’s note: The Cannonball bike race, begun in 1988 (?)
travels from Seattle to Spokane, mostly on the shoulder of Interstate 90. The ride crosses Lake Washington, then passes by the southern shore of Lake Sammamish, eventually winding its way up into the
foothills of the western slope of the Cascade Range. It crests these mountains at Snoqualmie Pass, elevation
3,022’. It is not unusual to have rain
on the climb; one is still on the wet side of the mountains, afterall.
As one moves into the
dryer eastern Washington, the skies clear up … and the monster tail winds
hopefully begin. There are two climbs
before the descent into the Columbia River Gorge. The second, Rye Grass Summit, is on the
southern edge of a large wind generator installation.
The 10 mile descent
into the Gorge can often be faster than one cares to go on a bicycle. Then one crosses the Columbia River. The climb out of the gorge, on the east side,
is mercifully only about two miles long.
Then one is in cropland, seemingly forever.
One gradually ascends
and, a bit before reaching Spokane, the landscape changes to Pine Savanna. And so in one long (or perhaps very long) day riders have had a picture of the variety
of scenery the state has to offer.
I rode my first Cannonball
in 1991, a year of amazing tail winds resulting in terrific finish times. Somehow I got hooked by the whole experience. Since then I’ve maybe only missed two years.
Starting in ~2001, the
Redmond Cycling Club, long time sponsor of the event, “volunteered” me to run
the thing. So, in addition to riding it,
I was always busy with the organization thereof. At its peak, the turnout hit 41 riders. In recent years there have generally only
been a handful of hearty souls. Most
ride with support, though there were generally a small subset riding
unsupported.
A few years ago
(2013?) was the last official running of the event. This probably coincided with my last
finish. But I still love the event, so for
the past three years, I’ve put together some sort of version of it, generally
just with a friend or two (until this year, when I rode alone). It hasn’t even involved going all of the way
to Spokane: I just like to do enough to reminisce.
2016: 25 years after my first
Cannonball
I had put “Cannonball” on the calendar, knowing it did not
mean I’d actually ride to Spokane. But,
as the date drew near, I hatched a plan: I’d have a hotel reservation at Moses
Lake (Mile 179) and a car reservation the following day in Spokane (Mile
276). To simplify return logistics, I’d bike to
the start.
And so it was, on a wet looking morning, with a wet forecast
to the pass and beyond, I set out from my house, some ten miles away from the
traditional start line. The ride had always
begun at 3:00 a.m., so I told myself 2:00 a.m. would be a good time to start
from home. As it turned out, I got
rolling at 4:31 a.m.
The rain had arrived the previous evening, which made me
think that perhaps it was done I wouldn’t get rained on.
Hah!
By the time I reached the “start line,” there was plenty of
light. This would definitely be a
different sort of Cannonball, hitting points at a much later time of day than
usual.
The ride follows the I-90 bike trail, with riders not
actually getting onto I-90 until about 13 miles into the course, at
Issaquah. When I reached that point, it
had already begun to rain. Not only was
the forecast wet, for the early part of my ride, but this would also be the
COLDEST Cannonball on record! The high
in Easton was 44 degrees! The low there,
on Friday night, 37, tied a record!
While still in the western foothills, I eventually stopped
to put on some additional rain gear. A
hiker pulled over, in his car, to see if I was alright. He was driving to the Mail Box Peak trail head
to hike to the top. I wished him luck
with the weather. Maybe he got some
views, but I suspect not.
I did my usual detour at Mile 38, onto a parallel road along
Olallie State Park. This gave me a two mile break from the
traffic sounds of I-90 and avoided a small climb.
It was surprisingly cold climbing the pass, though this
might be because I was wet (in spite of having fairly decent rain gear). Finally the top came (one counts the
miles!). I stopped at the Rest Stop there
and got a bag of Sun Chips and a bottle of Odwalla juice.
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| There wasn't still snow at this time of year |
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| Fond memory on bleak pass |
Then I was off to hunt for the Iron Horse State Park Trail,
which is the official detour for cyclists around the construction on the
highway east of the pass. I’d ridden
this unpaved trail once before, when it was hard and bumpy. Now, with all of the rain, it was soft, and I
occasionally had to stop and put my foot out, so as now to fall over. A couple on loaded touring bikes passed me heading west. I kind of wanted to stop and talk, and I suspect they would have appreciated a break, but a big ride like this weighs on a person, so we just smiled and said 'hi.' I suspect they were camping. It's possible to make a several day tour of this trail. After 8 miles I was back on I-90.
The rain continued, but it seemed lighter. Then it stopped. A few blue patches appeared in the sky. There were even moments of sun. I was still a bit wet, but this warmed my soul.
As I approached Cle Elum I recalled the Weigh
Station, a few miles before the first exit, with its famous metal
porta potty (hey, I don't make these things up). The timing was right, so I
stopped. It also seemed like a good
occasion to take off some rain gear. As
I started to bike away, I discovered a flat rear tire. I laid the bike down and addressed the
situation. The flat was caused by a thin
piece of wire from a radial tire. There
is a LOT of this along the shoulder. I
used my trusty mini-pliers to pull the wire out of the tire, then I replaced
the tube. Before I could complete this
job a shower arrived. I was scrambling
to get everything put away, and to get my rain gear back on, when the shower
ended. And that would be it for rain on
this trip.
Back on the road, I wrestled with the decision one can make
at Cle Elum: taking old Highway 10 all of the way to the crossing of the Columbia River Gorge, or sticking
with I-90. The map at the start of the
Iron Horse Trail detour implied there would be another detour for cyclists at
Cle Elum. As I came upon the first Cle
Elum exit, I saw no detour signs but I did see a sign saying that the next Cle
Elum exit was only a mile away. I
decided to go for it, instead of the first exit, because I didn’t need to stop
for anything in Cle Elum and in this way could avoid traffic, lights and stop signs. Once committed
to missing the first exit, however, the shoulder shrunk to about two feet
wide! Yikes! This was to be the longest mile in the
history of imperial measurement! I was
happy when I could finally escape that somewhat dangerous situation.
So circumstances had made my decision for me: I’d ride old
Highway 10 all of the way to the small town of Vantage on the shore of the Columbia River. By doing this, one avoids the first climb on
I-90 – Indian John Hill. There is not
the terrific view of the Enchantment Range which one gets from Indian John Hill
but the proximity to the Yakima River is quite nice. It’s also very quiet, especially once past
where the traffic turns off for Blewett Pass.
A bit before reaching Ellensburg I was having trouble
staying awake so took a rather pleasant ditch nap. At Ellensburg I stopped at Pizza Hut and had
a lemonade and a medium Premium Garden Veggie and ate almost the entire thing.
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| A pizza supreme |
I continued east on Highway 10. For a few miles there was light traffic, then
almost none. Then the road climbs up to
the wind farm. Not too steep, but I was
happy when I crested it (2,612’). The
turbines were all rotating and the tail wind was healthy.
Shortly after starting down I came across a great shot of
the moon rising behind some wind turbines.
All l had was my DumbPhone, with a lens that needed cleaning, but I
stopped and took a shot anyway.
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| Note full moon rising behind turbines |
The rest of the descent was a screamer! I hit 37.6 mph. The sun was getting low behind me and I was
hoping to NOT cross the Vantage Bridge in the dark because there is only a two
foot shoulder. I arrived while there was
still a fair bit of light and was also pleasantly surprised to see that traffic
was allocated to the left lane. I
correctly guessed that I could get around the barriers and have the right lane
all to myself.
Things went well until nearly the end of the bridge, where a
large construction related truck was taking up the entire lane. I dismounted, waited for a break in traffic,
hoisted my bike over a surprisingly tall Jersey Barrier, jumped over the
barrier, got on my bike and started to pedal.
Three cars total overtook me before I got to the end of the bridge. Not bad.
Then the climb OUT of the gorge was upon me. As mentioned, it is “only” two miles long,
and not killer steep (though does get ones attention). And after the two miles, one continues to
climb, though at less steepness.
From here it was 10 miles to George. There’s a mini mart, with a Subway, just off
the freeway. In the distance I could see
fireworks over George. This light show
lasted almost all of the way there.
I had a sandwich at Subway.
The high for the day in George had been 64 degrees. When I went back outside the wind was blowing
very strongly and it felt COLD. I put on
my jacket and reflective vest and booties. This was the coldest Cannonball I had ever experienced. Only once before had I ridden an entire Cannonball while wearing tights. That time it got warm enough that I could have taken them off, but didn't have to, so did not. This time it was NOT a choice!
It was 30 miles to Moses Lake. The time was 10:45 p.m. I was moving well for about 7 miles and
suddenly drowsiness hit me very hard. I
was carrying no caffeine (which is not unusual: caffeine and I do not agree
very well). Now I fought mightily to
keep moving. I also tried to keep away from
the rumble strips, partly because of how uncomfortable they are, but also
because of what’s on the left side of them.
I struggled for a few miles and arrived at the Winchester
Wasteway Rest Area. The wind screens
around the picnic tables were promising.
Without them it would have been too cold, due to the wind, but I was
able to take a short nap, then set out again for the final 18 miles to my
hotel.
In addition to greatly struggling on this last stretch, I
started to lose my appetite for pushing on to Spokane after some sleep. I had dreamed of getting to Moses Lake before
midnight! That was without factoring in
my late start, of course.
I somehow made
it to the heart of Moses Lake. There is
a frontage road for about a mile, then one goes back onto the freeway. My hotel was three miles on the far side of
the town, in a peculiar cluster of hotels and restaurants, sort of isolated
from the rest of town. That was the
world’s longest three miles!
To my horror, I arrived at the hotel at 2:38 a.m! I was happy to discover my package had
arrived before me!
Just before collapsing on the bed, I checked the yellow
pages: there was a Budget car rental at the Moses Lake airport!
I did NOT recall stirring during the “night.” I awoke at 8:00 a.m., wondering where I
was! It was quite bright outside.
I phoned Budget and they adjusted my reservation so I could
pick up a car at the Moses Lake airport (or so I thought).
Then I showered, had “breakfast” (a euphemism, if ever there
was one: they were out of a surprisingly high number of the very few items
generally available), put on fresh bike clothes, packed excess items into the
box (which I would leave at the hotel) and was just about to bike out to the
airport when I decided to go to the computer in the lobby and check the
confirmation e-mail. To my shock, it said
I was to pick up the car at the Wenatchee airport!!
I phoned to confirm this and was told that Budget had no
location at the Moses Lake airport (contrary to what it says in the Yellow
Pages). I phoned the few other rental
car places in Moses Lake: all were closed on weekends.
I set off for Wenatchee, retracing my route back to
George. It was easier now: I was NOT
struggling with drowsiness.
I stopped at the rest area, though only very briefly. As I continued on, I found a cell phone, in
great condition, along the shoulder.
This too was a Cannonball tradition!
Then I started to have that out
of gas feeling. I realized I had not
replenished my bag, using the supplies I had in the box back in the hotel. There were two bars still with me from
yesterday, so I scarfed them down.
I kept thinking about the time: if the wind was too much
against me, or if the hills were too difficult, I might not make it to the
Wenatchee airport before Budget/Avis car rental closed!
I left I-90 and turned north toward Quincy. The sign said seven miles. It seemed prudent to get something to eat
there, but I would need to be fast. When
I got to the turn, in the heart of Quincy, I saw a McDonalds. The medium strawberry shake and small fries
did the trick.
Back on the road, I was now headed west again, toward the
Columbia River. Eventually there is an
impressive two-mile-long descent to the river.
From here the route is along the river, a bit rolling, and quite scenic.
There was a brush fire up in the hills. There were fighters in place and a helicopter
with a water bucket, loaded from the river, was assisting them.
Finally I reached the tiny community of Rock Island, near
the dam of the same name on the Columbia.
Pangborn Memorial Airport is on a shelf in the hills above the
Columbia. I was anticipating a tough
climb … and was NOT disappointed. One
leaves the highway on Batterman Road, to make the climb. The name was appropriate: by the time the
grade leveled off, I was one battered man.
This was the only time on the entire trip that I used the granny
gear. (Yes, I’d even climbed Snoqualmie Pass
in the middle ring.)
This climb was a real scorcher. For quite a while there was no air movement
and I was roasting in the heat. As I got
nearer to the top, a slight breeze mercifully picked up. Finally the road leveled off and the last few
miles of the day went passed farms and orchards.
I got to the airport.
It was quite small. I biked right
up to the door near the rental car counters (both of them!). It was 4:35 p.m. when I got in line! My worries were over: now I had a car.
I put the bike in the trunk and drove back to Moses Lake, picked up my box, and headed
toward Seattle. As I approached
Ellensburg, the freeway info radio station said there were major slowdowns
between Cle Elum and Easton. I stopped
at Ellensburg for a burrito and hoped this break would let the traffic thin
out.
Back on the road, I had fairly smooth sailing to the pass
and beyond.
Once back in the metropolitan area, things went smoothly
until I-405. From there, to I-5, at
least one, and sometimes two right lanes were closed for maintenance. The traffic moved very slowly, but there was
a spectacular sunset to keep us entertained.
On the bridge across Lake Washington, I was reminded how far to the
north the sunsets at this time of year!
It had been one incredible weekend, a tribute to the memory
of Cannonball. I had covered 255 miles, 21 miles short of an actual Cannonball.
Garmin data can be found here:
