Riding up “the hill” (AP Photo)
I spent the weekend on a bike seat, pedaling from Seattle to Portland in the STP Bicycle Classic. This crazy idea started a few months ago when my friend Alex and I were using the exercise bikes in our school gym. I had been starting to bike more after Ecuador and he enjoyed it to. Why not try and ride together for over 200 miles?
Overall it was a great experience. About 10,000 people ride the event every year and it’s a pretty big production. The route winds through the small towns off of the interstate, and it showcases the valleys, forests, and farmlands of Washington and Oregon. My legs were pretty tired on the second day but it was worth it to get to the finish line and see my girlfriend, Lauren for the first time in six weeks! It was amazing to see so much of the Pacific Northwest in one bike ride and I want to do more events like this in the future.
--We saw just about every type of wild bike you can imagine, from unique recumbent combinations to odd shaped tandems and triples. A couple of crazy teenagers completed the route on longboards and there was even an old guy on a unicycle. There were riders from all over the US and the world and every age was represented between 9 and 85.
--There were periodical food stops with lots of free handouts including sandwiches, wraps, fruit, and granola bars. There were also some pretty good sponsored freebies like Clif Bars, Odwalla drinks, and Jamba Juice smoothies. We enjoyed everything, except the unpopular Nuun, an electrolyte beverage that smelled like acne medicine and tasted kind of like furniture polish. But it started to grow on us the second day when we accidentally filled our bottles with it.
--The two-lane Lewis and Clark Bridge brought us into Oregon halfway through the second day. Traffic was periodically halted so bikers could pedal up the steep, 1½-mile span that rises over 200 feet above the Columbia River. Another difficult part of the ride was “the hill,” an infamous uphill mile of road that climbs over 300 feet and has to be conquered in the middle of the first day. Both obstacles are before lunch when the desire to keep pedaling is the lowest. There are a lot of rolling hills on the route, but these two are the worst.
--I learned that a lot of people hate bicyclists. There were a lot of crude things yelled at us from both drunken passengers and soldiers at a military base, but some jerks went too far when they scattered tacks over a stretch of highway in Oregon. For such a huge event with riders from all over, it only takes a few losers to make the northwest look bad.
--Since we signed up late, it was difficult to find a place to stay the night. With thousands of bicyclists passing through the small midpoint towns, every place of lodging was booked and we were laughed at when we called and asked for openings. With luck we ended up finding a homestay option in nearby Chehalis that offered a bed, meal, and shower, so that seemed like a sweet deal. We didn’t realize how long it would take to get there because we had to pedal around an airport and pick up our own bags. Later we learned that the house was on top of the tallest (and probably steepest) hill in town. Our hosts were friendly hippies who welcomed us into their old-fashioned home. We stayed in a creepy room upstairs in the attic, but it was nice to have a bed, shower, and meals with interesting and odd conversations. Staying there was definitely a cultural experience for both of us.
Left: Seeing Lauren for the first time in six weeks! :)
Right: One of the professional shots from Marathon Foto
While not much has been happening at home, I’ve been biking a lot and found that I really enjoy it. The San Juans are great to pedal around because there is some great rolling terrain and coastal scenery through all the rural islands. Some memorable summer biking experiences have been riding through crazy rainstorms, getting stuck behind a flock of sheep in the road, and trying to master the art of the clipless pedal. (I have had a couple wipeouts when I stopped and forgot to remove my feet.) I also live at the top of a beast named Whiskey Hill, so my work commute takes me 300 feet up a set of switchbacks that are 13% grade.
My favorite local ride was along the mainland coast. My sister, Larissa is the master of public transportation, and she figured out a way to get to downtown Bellingham with a ferry and three buses from different counties. One day I took my bike with me and rode home through a 60-mile journey of multiuse trails and a winding scenic highway. Among the small rural towns, I stopped at a shellfish farm, a buffalo ranch, and an organic cheese farm. I also rode through an oil refinery, a fish cannery, and an “island” which was actually connected by land.
