Chilly Rainy Windy Hilly

The much anticipated Sunday finally arrived. First organized ride this side of 2016.



I laid out my choice of clothes the night before, packed my handlebar bag with unnecessary things (per usual), put the bike in the car - yes, I decided against riding downtown because I didn't know how much steam I would have left post ride, and set the alarm to 6 am.

The morning arrived with spotty rain in Issaquah, however the weather forecast predicted showers throughout the day. My last ride with COGS was a slightly painful one. Man, oh man, how much difference padded pants make. There are times I am not happy about my lady parts. After the COGS ride I was so sore that I walked like a bowlegged cowboy for days after.

Not wanting to repeat that beaver slaughter, I chose the padded route. However, none of my padded pants have long legs, so I wore knee high socks with the choice of pants. I threw the rain pants in the car just in case, thinking I wouldn't need them. Boy, was I wrong.

As soon as I approached Seattle, the rain started dumping down in buckets. The wind picked up, causing the rain to come sideways. I lucked out with parking, finding a spot right across from the ferry dock. The first thing that happened was a homeless guy knocking on my window, wanting to wash my car - in the rain. He was carrying a bucket full of supplies. He told me he was a veteran  who had fallen on hard times and just needed money for breakfast.

Me, always the bleeding heart, gave him $5 and requested he not wash my car. I know the $5 probably didn't go towards a breakfast, but who am I to judge. One man's recreational fodder is another man's liquid breakfast. The homeless man advised me to put up my seats so my car looked less like it was going to be parked there all day, making it a target. I didn't take the advice, even though it cost me $5.

Bainbridge! A fresh load of spandex coming at ya!

I didn't know how many people would show up due to the weather, but pretty soon the entire ferry dock was as full of spandex as the pride parade.

Find the guy in yellow

Kevin being funny

Turns out Kevin didn't have to wave since he was easily spotted as the only guy texting on his phone.
Kevin and I were soon joined by other people from COGS and together we waited the longest 30 minutes ever for the ferry.

Some of you should NOT wear spandex

The ferry was full of strutting peacocks and, sorry guys, but some of you should really consider concealing your weapons. See, what happens when I'm in a seated position, your non-secured weapons are pointed right at face height. My face. And should your weapon discharge, I won't be very happy.

All the bitches in line at the bathroom

Funny observation: partaking in an organized bike ride is like being in a reverse club. During my party days, the lines of the women's bathroom were miles long, whereas the men's bathroom didn't have a line. On board SS Spandex, the roles were reversed - which just goes to prove that bike rides are male dominated. My guess on this ride is that the ratio was 1/30.

The rain was light when we spewed out of the ferry in Bainbridge and the "hill" from the ferry was not a hill. Slight incline at best. I tried slowing down, but couldn't. My legs just wanted to go, go, go. Pretty soon the rain increased, but I stayed dry in my rain jacket and pants. The only parts of me that suffered slightly were my feet. Didn't wear my goretex shoes. Oh, well, it could have been worse.

The weather was typical Washington. It changed from rain, sun, wind, and every combo in between. The worst part was the wind. There was one stretch of the ride where we biked close to the water in headwinds of 25-30 mph. It felt as if I was biking on a stationary bike. I was pedaling like crazy, but didn't seem to move anywhere.

No gold at the end of the rainbow, but plenty of spandex

As y'all know, I am no fan of stopping when I'm on my bike, but I decided to do a brief swing-by at Battle Point Park where they served the usual grub. I grabbed a few things for later, ate a banana, took a photo, then headed out on the road again.

I made another exception a bit later on.

I can see Russia, I mean, Seattle from my house!

I finished the ride in a little over two hours, which I think is respectable. The people were friendly, the hills were great! Oh, the hills really were alive with the sound of - if not music - huffing and puffing. The hills were my absolute favorite on this ride and I had plenty left in the tank when all was said and done at 33 miles.

Awesome hills!

As I thought, I'm not the fastest, nor the slowest. Mid-pack is my wheel house, but I climb well. The people that were passing me on the flat, I passed on the climbs.

A load of sweaty spandex headed off the island

I caught the 11:30 am ferry back to Seattle. As you can see, it was a real sausage fest. Not sure what's next since there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of rides in March, but if there is one, I will find it!

Oh, and the ride ended with a flat - which must have happened the last stretch from the ferry to my car. Pinch flat. Go figure. My changing time is down to 5 minutes. Yeay!

Managing Great Expectations

The weekend I've been looking forward to with much anticipation is finally here: Chilly Hilly.



Seems I have do adjust my expectations since the best part of the ride might just be the ferry ride. I thought Chilly Hilly came with distance options like Kitsap Color Classic did, but is seems that this is not the case. The entire ride is no more than 33 miles, which is barely enough for the warm-up lap.

Chilly Hilly has been kicking off the cycling season in the Northwest on the last Sunday in February for the past 44 years. The 33-mile route around Bainbridge Island starts with a scenic early morning ferry ride across Puget Sound from Seattle, or you can join the crowd directly on Bainbridge Island.


The climbs amount to just above 2,000 feet. That's what I do on my daily commute. I'm a little disappointed, but I'll get over it. This will teach me to read the details next time I consider signing up for a ride. But it is a Cascade ride, and so far every ride organized by them have been great. All rides have been well supported, the people have been friendly, and the grub has been awesome - except for the boiled potatoes they had at Kitsap Color Classic that I had no idea what to do with. But at least there will be cookies. And maybe heroin. Or meth.

Don't bother, they don't have meth

Post-ride I find myself having all sorts of cravings and sometimes they manifest themselves like this:

Me: I think I’m craving heroin.

Hubby: What?

Me: Well, I assume it’s heroin. It could be crack. I don’t really know.

Hubby: Start over. Make sense this time.

Me: You know when you’re craving something, but nothing satisfies the craving and so you just keep eating? But nothing works and so you’re full but you’re still craving something but still you don’t even know what it is that will satisfy the craving?

Hubby: Not really.

Me: Well, normal people do and I’m one of them, and I’ve eaten everything in the kitchen and I’m still craving something else so I’m assuming it must be something I’ve never had before. Something like heroin.

Hubby: Right. So popcorn didn’t satisfy you, so you just automatically assume you need heroin?

Me: Or maybe meth. Maybe I need to find a meth lab.

Hubby: Just stop talking.

Me: I was just thinking that meth labs aren’t like regular labs because they’re faster than regular labs. Like, if I need to know if my chest x-rays are clean it takes days for a doctor to let me know, but if I go down to that meth lab by the lake I’d probably get served immediately. Or shot immediately. One of those.

Hubby: How do you even know where a meth lab is?

Me: I don’t, but I just assume that there are some by the lake. Because scientists like water sports.

Hubby: Scientists?

Me: I’m pretty sure if you work in a lab all day you’re considered a scientist.

Hubby: Not if it’s a meth lab.

Me: It’s a loose definition, but I’m pretty sure it still counts.

I'm In A Pooh Kind Of Mood

Friday!

I'm getting sick. Which sucks because I had planned on riding my first weekend ride of 2016 this weekend. But not feeling completely ok makes for great pondering and dreaming conditions, so right now I'm sitting here, staring at the list of Cascade rides this year. I'm wondering if I can do the Red-Bel in one day back AND forth. Technically the ride is only one way, but I was thinking that I could bike up to Bellingham, turn around, and bike back home again. This would make for an excellent test for the Seattle to Portland ride a month later.

The only argument against doing this ride is the Chuckanut Drive portion of it. Chuckanut Drive is the final stretch of the ride and it's awful. I've biked to Bellingham twice and both times I almost died on that stretch. From heart attacks. Not really, but I was terrified the entire time I biked on that road. There's no shoulder and no ditch, just mountain side, and the road is windy. I fucking hate that road.

Chuckanut Drive

The straightest part of the road

Other than this road, the ride up to Bellingham is beautiful, so maybe I'll just ride up to Chuckanut and turn around.

But I digress.. first step is to get over this whatever-it-is fast, then I can start planning longer weekend rides.

This sounds about right

I bought a new light yesterday, but it's too early to tell if it's good or not. It's the
Cygolite Dash 350, but it doesn't seem bright enough. I turned the angle of the Cygolite 500 down a bit and it seems to do a much better job at lighting up the road.

Happy Friday and all that.

Rules Of Engagement

Hubby texted me yesterday while I was still at work:



Another greatest hits

Turns out I didn't have to be fat because there really wasn't any wind riding home last night. It was dark, though, and my rear lights went out - which was commented on by a fellow biker. As he rode past me he said; "Great reflectors, but you need a tail light." No shit, Sherlock. Not only do I have a tail light - I have two, but as luck would have it they both went out at the same time. Hmmm... I suppose he was right. I was also passed by a guy decked in spandex from head to toe. He zoomed passed me without a word, not even an "on your left". Whenever I see someone like that now I think of Josh Ross. Not the rude part, but the all spandex part.

My favorite hill was closed off due to a tree that had fallen and couldn't get up so I had to snake through an unknown neighborhood with a couple of steep hills. I got semi-lost twice but thanks to google maps I made it home. I discovered that it really sucks having to stop mid hill when you're not sure which road to take - especially when that hill is 10% grade. But, two steep hills, a couple of detours, and a fire engine later, I was home.

I now have somewhat of a first world problem when I bike passed Sammamish High School on 140th: the cars are too polite. I've almost toppled over a few times because I end up in a "no, you first" dance with a car. Since my bike lane is on the right, some cars actually take that into consideration before they turn right into the drop-off lane at the school so they wait. I'm just assuming that no one will stop, so I slow down and await their turn. And then the dance starts. I have started to cleat in, not anticipating to come to a full stop, so when cars don't go I am forced to stop. Probably have to stop cleating on that stretch.

Since it's Wednesday (the day I usually start planning weekend rides) and the monsoon is over for now, I am thinking of doing a longer ride this weekend. With this weather forecast, it would be hard to resist.

It's been so long now that I'm not even sure what that yellow spiky circle means. My options are either the Centennial Trail or The Interurban Trail, so north or south - but then again I might just bike around the big lake with an extra loop.

Year round commuters are weird and I think I fit right in; stubborn as hell, very equipment focused, and not awfully chatty.

When Will The Fat Lady Sing?

This is getting ridiculous. Turns out I spoke too soon about my rain gear. The shoe covers got soaked on the way home Friday, the rain pants kept riding up my legs, and don't get me started on the gloves. Waterproof my ass. So much for staying dry. The gear failure prevented me from doing my weekend ride. Like I've said, I don't mind being cold or wet - just not in combination. And since I didn't have functioning rain pants, nor shoe covers, I knew I was going to be both. Last Saturday fresh in memory, I wasn't about to head out for another misery ride. But I am not a quitter, so off to REI and the LBS I went. I returned the malfunctioning rain gear and exchanged it for Sealskinz gloves and shoe covers.

I bought these rain pants at one of the small local bike shops. They are made by Endura and are super long. Apparently REI doesn't get the mechanics of cycling well with their short short pants.

By the end of the winter season, I will be an expert in rain gear. What I've learned so far is that waterproof doesn't necessarily mean waterproof and clothing that seem ok at first try, aren't so the second time around.

This morning's commute was very cold and for the first time the roads felt slick so I had to slow down significantly in order not to have a wipe-out. I am still standing by my commitment to bike through the winter unless there's snow. I will have to get something for my face as well unless I want my cheeks to suffer from frostbite. My face was the only cold body part, which can probably be remedied easily.

I am really hoping this is it for rain gear because I am running out of options. If this doesn't work, I don't know what to do. This morning was not a good test for other than proving the pants and gloves were windproof as there was no rain.

Why am I obsessing so much about rain gear? I could always call it quits for the season and drive to work. That would be the sensible thing to do. For me though, the rewards I get from biking to work far outweighs the minor inconveniences. And I don't feel that I'm asking too much - since all I'm asking is to stay dry to and from work for a total of 20 miles. So be it if I can't do weekend rides for a while, but I am not giving up my bike commute.

Here's to hoping I will hear singing by the end of the week.

I Like Big Hills And I Can Not Lie

The favorite part of my commute is the last hill before I get home. It's about a mile long and snakes around with the perfect percent of climb.



I like it even more now that it's dark, and the bike lane is super wide making for one of the most enjoyable climbs in my area.

I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I love climbs. The longer, the better - which is probably why High Pass Challenge didn't scare me away from biking even though it was very cold, very rainy, and very hilly. There's something so meditative about climbing hills - when I climb hills it's just me and my bike working in perfect unison. Fortunately there's tons of hills in my area and when we come out on the other side of winter, I have a long list of hills to conquer.

But today I'm not biking to work. Say what? A combination of things made it impossible for me to ride my bike in, so instead I'm driving. Grrrr. It's strange going off my routine and I feel something is missing. However, I will be back on the bike tomorrow.

I bought rain pants, shoe covers, and waterproof gloves last night at REI. It's supposed to rain -  a LOT - tomorrow, making it perfect test conditions. I know all too well that just because something is supposed to be waterproof doesn't necessarily mean it it. The jury hasn't even been led out to the court room yet.

Not sure if I'm doing a weekend ride this coming weekend because while I've been biking, things have piled up a bit. I have people to see and places to be, plus there's a big storm heading in my direction and we all know how much I love to bike in headwind. Knowing myself, chances are I will be biking so we'll see.

I didn't take the lane on my way back home last night and it was fine. Since the attempted murder of earlier this week, I'm not sure if taking the lane is the correct solution. One could argue that statistics speaks for taking the lane. So far there's only been one asshat out of probably 100 cars that have passed me, which for the most part makes taking the lane the best option. But then there's the fact that it only takes one - it only takes one terrible driver and it's game over. And then it doesn't matter how many cars passed me and nothing happened, because I will still be dead or seriously injured.

I'm getting a new helmet today and I'm excited about it. I'm conducting an experiment to see if this will help traffic safety.

Ghost Bikes And Ghost Husbands

During my horrid ride of Saturday, I found out whose ghost bike it is that's placed in Kenmore. The cyclist who died was 70-year old Gordon Gray.

The detective on the case determined Gray failed to stop at a stop sign right before the crash.

While I don't know if that's true or not, it's a miracle no one else has died or gotten seriously maimed in that particular area. I have yet to see a single bicyclist stop by at the stop signs in Kenmore (unfortunately myself included), the cars do and don't, and don't even get me started on the low-flying pelotons. I'm sure being a member of a group has its advantages but from the outside it's still hella annoying. The groups I encounter on my rides are rude as hell - meaning they ride four abreast, taking the entire trail, not moving when I come along, and they don't say anything when they pass me with less clearance than the asshats driving cars.

Did I mention I detest pelotons? Not saying there might be great and very polite groups that consist of gentlemen whose mothers taught them manners, but I have yet to encounter one.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a peloton!

Things have improved somewhat on the homefront. Hubby and I did a few things together this weekend which was nice. That means I have to rethink my new nickname for him, which would have been Casper - as in the friendly ghost. You know, because I never see him even when he's home. We went out for dinner on Saturday, then lunch on Sunday. So sorry, Channing, we'll have to reschedule our rendezvous.

Most of the time I don't think about this, but from time to time it hits me how much work it is to be a grown up. Work is work, responsibilities are work, relationships are work, kids are work, and even relaxing is work. I can't spend too much time thinking about this and ultimately question the meaning of life, because I'll most likely go bonkers like most of the famous philosophers did. One just can't start thinking about how a table isn't really a table or whether the shadows on the cave wall is what's real or not and expect to remain sane. Seems like most of my life is spent forging on these days and I don't like it so something's gotta give. Just to clarify - I am not unhappy just restless. Perhaps it's an early midlife crisis of sorts.

Hubby is going away for a few days which will give the heart a chance to grow fonder, but if I know myself the time will most likely be spent on Netflix. Unlike hubby, I don't typically take my work home which allows me to untangle completely from work related issues. I've always preferred it that way, all though I have been thinking about moving on from where I am now. Major changes are taking place where I currently work, but for now I'll sit it out and see where all the pieces land once it's all said and done.

To stop or not to stop, that is the question.

This morning's commute was great! Except for a very stern school bus driver - which leads me to a question: do I have to make a full stop for school buses when they have their red blinky lights on when I'm on the side walk on the other side? On my bike? Up where I live there are quite a few school buses in the morning if I time it just wrong. This morning I saw red lights up ahead so I went onto the sidewalk so I wouldn't have to wait for the children to board. As I'm biking passed the bus while on the sidewalk, the driver opens the window and yells that I have to stop. Say what? I have never seen a pedestrian stop and wait for a school bus but what do I know. Apparently not traffic laws.

Not Biking Angry Anymore

No longer how I roll anymore

I'm not biking angry anymore. I came to the realization as I was biking home on Friday and today I figured out why: I'm not terrified anymore so I don't have to be angry. And the thing is, it was an easy fix. Instead of biking in fear of being blasted into the ditch by passing cars that gave me zero room, I took the lane. I don't have a speedometer on my bike so I have no idea how fast I am going but I'm thinking I might be going in the mid to high 20s (after I've been smoking, Josh Ross) - and I think that's enough for a 30 mph speed zone.

As for the weekend, I only biked on Saturday. I believe I'm pretty tough and besides my love for biking far outweighs any inconvenience caused by bad weather. I knew there was 100% chance of rain on Saturday but my motto being "there's no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing", that sure wasn't going to stop me from biking.

I already know I can handle wet and I can handle cold - turns out I have issues with the combination of the two. The first hour of the bike ride wasn't bad and I almost took off the rain jacket, but holy crap - as I started biking north from Renton it started pouring down. Cold, wet rain. Yes, I know that rain is always wet, but somehow it seems more wet when it's cold. The rain felt like liquid snow.

What? No fenders? #teamfenders364

You'd think that being cold would be a huge motivator for biking faster, but I just couldn't. The thing I've discovered with rain and temperatures as I've been biking is that there's a point where if the cold hits you before you start to really get some speed and core temp up - it's close to impossible to get up speed and get warm. This is what happened to me on Saturday. I just couldn't get up speed because I was freezing my butt off. I was so incredibly cold and wet, making the remainder of the ride a proper suck fest. I only biked 60 miles, not 100. It took me forever to warm up again so I decided that I wouldn't bike yesterday - making it the first day I haven't biked in months.

I still haven't figured out the staying dry issue, but that's on me because I still haven't put on front fenders, nor have I gotten rain pants. I'm hoping that will take care of the portable foot bath situation.

This is exactly what my shoes are like. Seriously

This morning's commute sucked balls. The ride in itself was fine, but Nick Allard keeps on lying. I need to trust my ears and weather.com more than I trust Kiro 7 weather. According to Nick the heavy rain was supposed to be up north and not where I live. Not true. I was soaking wet within 5 minutes of my ride. The initial water was freezing cold but after a while the water in my shoes warmed up, making it tolerable but still soaking wet. Of course I didn't bring extra socks, but fortunately Whole Foods sell some clothing items - I was just hoping they had socks that weren't fair trade, organic, hand spun, $100 socks. Turns out I got two pairs of socks for $14, which is acceptable.

Lesson finally learned: I will no longer use Kiro 7 as my weather resource. I like their news staff so I'll probably still watch that part of the morning show - but I will ignore Nick from now on - or do the opposite of what he says.

I'll be getting rain pants this evening and hopefully my goretex shoes are dry by now. I still love biking and will forge on through the winter, and hopefully come out on the other side much wiser and a well of biking knowledge.

A Suitable Riding Partner

You might have noticed that the past couple of weekends I've gone on the long bike trips without a partner. Sure, I'm a lonesome cowboy at heart, but there are times when riding with someone else is fun. Almost all of the group rides I've done have been a blast - and part of why I enjoyed them so much was because of the company.

Hubby told me he'd prefer if I rode with another girl. I haven't decided if that statement is sexist or not yet. I did a quick search on the web on the topic and turns out it's a split decision. Half couldn't care less while the other half disapproved strongly. During my websearch I came across this thread which is freaking hilarious. However, if you have any fears whatsoever about your significant other training with someone of the opposite sex, I'd advise you not to read it.

so happy together...

Spoiler alert: Half the people in it ended up leaving their original partner for the training partner. Just saying I'd be more than a little bit worried if I were Saluki's current spouse...

After giving the subject some thought, I find myself being torn. I can see how training with a partner can lead to intimacy, how hours without complications and everyday ups and downs could lead to temptation. Especially if your riding partner is a fox or at the very least not repulsive. I know from experience how huge swings in feelings can bring people close and force a level of intimacy that usually takes years to arrive at. Battling something with intensity, for then to experience victories together create bonds like no other. I learned that courtesy of the armed forces. It also creates a sort of camaraderie that excludes everyone else.

That being said, I don't know how any guy dressed up like these would be remotely tempting, but stranger things have happened. Now, if Scarlett Johansson showed up in spandex... which leads me to my other point; on a personal note, having a female riding partner wouldn't make any difference in this context since I'm batting for both teams.

you can ride my (imaginary) tandem anytime...

you can as well, guess we're getting a triplet!
I'm calling the middle seat!

But if the shoe were on the other foot - say, if hubby walked in the door announcing he'd taken up tandem biking with someone else - I think my level of anxiety would hinge on how well I know said hubby. I think I can recognise a person in love or lust, but with exercise comes euphoria so perhaps hard to tell the difference between post coital bliss and saddle sores. Though while I might be able to recognize a partner in lust, I might not be able to recognize that in myself - if history means anything.

It was the oldest story in the book: girl meets boy, girl marries boy, girl and boy take each other for granted, girl and boy stops having coitus, girl gets frustrated, girl meets another boy, girl thinks this new boy is exciting, girl falls in lust with new boy, the first boy finds out, girl has to let go of new boy, girl and first boy find happiness again after learning that trust is a very fragile thing.

While I'm not actively searching for a riding partner at the moment, it would be nice to find someone within biking distance I can holler at when I feel like riding with company for longer than 20 miles. Only time will tell if this happens or not. Until then, I ride happily along solo.

Progress In More Ways Than One

I discovered something this weekend; I have solid leg muscles. I also discovered that 22 mph wind gusts transform even 140 lbs into a human kite, despite my brave statement that the 30 lbs I have on Aixe would prevent the kite-likelihood. In addition to this, 20 mph headwind SUCKS!!!!!

I only did 80 miles this weekend. 60 miles on Saturday in pouring rain and wind. The rain didn't really bother me, but the wind made me cut the trip short. There were branches in the path everywhere which made the ride feel unsafe.

I decided to bike around Lake Washington, expecting some headwind. The forecast (on my phone) said the wind would come from SW which meant that half of my ride (deduced since I was riding in a circle) probably would suck a little. I didn't expect that the wind would actually move me several inches or threaten to topple me over. It's really scary when the wind comes from the side and blows you into traffic so I probably won't bike again if it's that windy.

I almost got hit by a branch falling off a tree. If I hadn't stopped to get the gels out of my pack, that branch would have landed on my head and not the trail. As I got up on my bike again after having dug up the gel, I heard a huge thump and the ground shook a little. A gigantic branch had fallen off the tree just a few feet ahead of me. Very close call. I wonder if my helmet would have protected me completely.

I made it around the lake almost completely dry - except my feet, but that was my own damn fault for wearing the wrong shoes. I figured I would give cleats a try, problem is the shoes that have cleats aren't waterproof. At all. Lesson learned. I have a feeling there will be plenty of lessons needing learning in the months to come. Oh well, what doesn't kill you make you stronger, right?

The muscle discovery started with trying my skinny jeans and fitting into them for the first time in months. Yeay! But then I discovered that I actually have leg muscles.



tan lines in unexpected places

welcome to the gun show... hahaha

I've biked for five months now and I feel better than I've done in years. But with the biking, I find myself googling the strangest things - like cleats, spokes, spandex, saddle sores - things I never thought would be in my search history.

 

Probably won't have to retort to the above since every search has a valid explanation. In other words, should I commit a crime, my getaway vehicle needs to be a bike. Or the crime itself has to involve chainlinks, lube, and seat posts.

 

Edit: After participating in this thread with Josh Ross, my mind and search history are as dirty as my bike...

 

The commute this morning was a lot rainier than they forecasted on TV. I've made a point of watching the morning news now to feel a little more plugged in and also to get the most recent weather for my ride in - but Nick Allard, you are a liar. So far he's been wrong 9 out of 10 times. I guess a solution for this is to listen to his forecast and then dress for the opposite. It was not supposed to rain on my commute, yet it poured down. One bizzarro thing this morning: There was a huge dead DUCK in the middle of the bike lane. It was a male duck, which explains parts of why it was there, but there aren't any ponds or lakes within waddling distance which leads me to the following question: Do ducks fly? I think they do, and if they do, did this one get shot down on Halloween? Was he a victim of duck rage?

 

I've found the solution to my scary patches - I've started taking the road. Instead of almost getting blasted into the ditch by passing cars, I now take the road, preventing the cars from passing me when they shouldn't. This is a new development and it's made my commute much more enjoyable.

Coyote Ugly And Murder On The Trail

I got my long ride in this weekend - and it was glorious! I did a little swaperoo and did the long ride Saturday instead of the usual Sunday, which felt good so I think I'll do that from now on as it allows me a day of slow riding before I start work on Monday. This was my ride:



I started my ride around 7:30 am. The route wasn't set in stone as I figured I would see how long it would take me once I got to Puyallup. I had plans for later in the afternoon and needed to be back home by 4 at the latest.

It was still foggy but the air was nice and crisp, allowing for perfect biking conditions. Above is the view from Renton. My new bike was still in the shop so I rode my old bike, which was another reason why I hadn't decided for sure how far this ride was going to be.

I was surprised when I encountered the Interurban Trail once I had passed Renton - which was every bit as rifle-in-the-back-of-the-truck as I'd imagined. The pot smoke was hanging heavy over south Renton as well. But the trail - oh, it was magnificent! I didn't know it was there but now that I've found it, I think it'll be a regular.

The Interurban Trail is an 18.1-mile trail that runs nearly straight and flat for 14.8 miles from its beginning in the north near Fort Dent Park. The route connects the towns of Tukwila, Kent, Auburn, Algona, and Pacific. The trail was a delight. Well, it was, until I encountered my first coyote. At first I thought it was a dog so I looked to see if I could spot its owner. As I got closer I realized it wasn't a dog. It was the size of a german shepherd but strange looking. I guess I was about 30 feet away from it when it became clear that A) it was a coyote, and B) that coyote didn't intend to move out of the path. Being that I've never encountered a coyote before in my life, I had no idea what the correct behavior was. But as I stood there looking at the coyote, and the coyote was looking back at me - kind of like an old west stand-off, I remembered the advice for the bear encounters:

Not the stay calm part, but of all things, I decided to say "booo!". Nothing. The coyote just kept standing there looking at me. Now I figure I wouldn't make much of a snack, but one can never know for sure so I started planning my escape. Where are those road runners when one needs them?



Then all of a sudden, the coyote sauntered slowly into the ditch, while casting the occasional glance back at me just to let me know that it wasn't moving on account of being scared of me but because it chose to.

With the coyote off the trail, I still wasn't convinced that it wasn't lurking at me from the ditch, just waiting to pounce me as I biked past so just to make sure I biked as far as I could on the opposite side of the trail from where the coyote disappeared. As I biked past, I glanced down in the ditch and there it was - just standing there, looking up at me. At least it wasn't a bear.

A little further down the trail, I spotted a make shift memorial by the trail. Turns out a man was stabbed to death on the trail.

His name was Mike, but there were other posters asking if one knew who he was. If you know who Mike was, please contact Auburn Police at 253-931-3030.

This ride was getting weirder and weirder, and it didn't help that I was biking close to the Green River Trail.

At least that guy is behind bars.

The trail goes along the trail tracks but also under the power lines. I was thinking I might get super powers from it, like super human speed akin to The Flash. No such luck. I only had to wait for a passing train once though.

You can't see it from this picture, but if you're in the marked for an aluminum sided building, the one just across the track is for sale.

The bridges where Interurban intersects with Green River

This Saturday's ride was the friendliest ride I've done. Everyone was all smiles and hellos. This one guy I passed by Beacon Hill smiled so much I was afraid his ears were going to fall off! But it was all good, and it made for a pleasant ride.

The ride took me a little over eight hours so I was back in time to see Zombies in downtown Issaquah. The zombies were the least committed ones I've seen so far. Some of them were even running - and no self-respecting zombies run. Unless you're in World War Z, but that's just silly.

Sunday I rode around Lake Sammamish with hubby. The weather was unseasonably warm. I had put on layers of clothing since Saturday's bike ride was so cold, but had to shed these pretty quickly. It was also windy, making it feel like I was riding inside of a blow dryer. This time we didn't stop for breakfast at Whole Foods, which wasn't a great idea on the account of hubby being completely wiped after. Next weeked, we will make our usual stop.

This weekend's grand total: 140 miles give or take.

The Grinder And Fog Horns

Three things took place on my ride this morning; one annoying, one somewhat scary (that had nothing to do with cars), and one nice thing.

The annoying thing is my bike has started making grinding noises and because of that I now have 6 gears I can't use. It's the damn chain and the brake pads. Not to worry though, I am taking it in today to get it tuned.

The scary thing was this:

Fog! For once it's not my lacking skills as a photographer that's making the picture blurry, but mother nature. And the fog got worse - of course at the steepest hill. Couldn't see shit so I had to bike snail slow and of course I had a car right behind me that couldn't pass because of the turns and the fog so I had a car on my tail all the way down the hill. Fun times.

Now the nice thing. One of my fellow commuters acknowledged my existence this morning. The numbers of commuters has dwindled down to three now that the temperatures have dropped. There used to be double digit numbers but now it's just us three. Perhaps I'll have t-shirts made that says "The Three Biking Musketeers" or "One For All And All For One" on them. Or not.

For weeks we have pretty much ignored each other - after I initially greeted them and was ignored. Perhaps they are commuter snobs - you know, the kind who bikes through rain and snow - like me, and scoffs at other fair-weathered bikers. I guess I've been accepted into their club now and have been deemed worthy of "hellos" in the morning. Whatever reason, I'll take it. Pathetic as it may seem, that "hello" warmed me on the chilly ride in.

Fog horns. Again nice transition. You're welcome. My 750 lumen light didn't do shit in the fog soup so I don't know what I should do. Not that fog horns would help at all with vision, but it would scare off vampires that are lurking in the dark. Yes, those are real thoughts rattling around in my head when I'm biking in the dark. Vampires or kidnappers that could pounce me from the side of the road - as I'm biking past 20+ miles per hour downhill. Not very realistic, but still, it could happen. Well, at least it keeps my thoughts away from cars.

If you must, then at least look like this...

instead of this

As for this weekend's rides, I am doing the usual lap around Lake Sammamish with hubby for sure. Still haven't decided on the longer ride. Probably going to be south - or I might just bike around Lake Washington twice, just because I'm feeling a bit laze in the imagination department. We shall see.

A Girl, Two Rides, And One Mishap

I had one and a half great ride this weekend.

Hubby wasn't feeling well so instead of doing our ride around the little lake (Lake Sammamish) on Saturday, I rode around the big lake (Lake Washington). The weather was forecast to be 80% chance of rain, but it turned out to be a glorious day - perfect for riding a bike, jogging (as if...), or frolicking in the meadows.

When doing the Lake Washington Loop, one has to bike on Rainier Ave for a bit, which has never been fun. The bike lane is narrow and sits between parked cars on the right and fast traffic on the left. Imagine my surprise when I encountered a newly painted bike lane as wide as a bus! Not only was the bike lane wide, but it was flanked by safety zones on both sides, making the combined bike lane as wide as the car lane. It was awesome! Thank you, City of Renton.

Child labor?

Cool sign at the Renton Airfield

Lake Washington seen from the south

The entire loop from Issaquah turned out to be around 65 miles, which I did in 4 hours and 20 minutes. A new personal best - and I wasn't even trying to bike fast. I just let my legs do their thing in a speed that felt good and not exhausting, knowing that I would have to bike up Lakemont at the end of my ride. So all in all, a fantastic day of riding.

Sunday's Big Ride

I met up with Dave on Sunday to do the big ride. We had initially planned on biking to Centennial Elementary School, which would have made the ride 150 miles. But as we approached Arlington, it became clear that we weren't going to make it all the way there and back in time to have sufficient day light - and for me to claim my car at Marymoor Park. Below is a map of our ride as it turned out.





As we approached Marysville, it started raining a little. I had brought my new Sugoi jacket which turned out to be nothing short of spectacular. It was everything the Showers Pass jacket wasn't. Despite its lack of vents, it was breathing just fine and most importantly - it was actually waterproof. Go figure; a waterproof jacket that actually is waterproof. What an amazing concept.

The World's Largest Cinnamon Rolls!
Maltby Cafe

Pumpkins on a fence

First time in proper daylight

I've never started to bike this trail in daylight before so this is the first time I've been able to take a picture of its start in Snohomish.

The Snohomish County Centennial Trail is a recreational treasure. One of two “Centennial Trails” in Washington State, the 29-mile Snohomish County trail runs from the City of Snohomish to north of Bryant.

The trail is nice and tranquil and not too busy - especially when raining.

Dave in the distance

Fall colors

I only counted single-digit slugs. Yeay! We didn't bike very fast and only made it to the Nakashima Farm at the north trail head. I'm not saying it was a short bike ride but the 106 miles were shorter then what I wanted to bike.

Christmas in October...

Bryant - if you blink, you'll miss it



Black bears???

Apparently there are black bears along the trail. I didn't see any, but if I had - I seriously doubt any of the advice posted here would have done me any good...

• Stay calm and avoid direct eye contact
• Do not approach the bear
• Try to scare it away by clapping your hands
• If the bear attacks, fight back aggressively

The first two are kind of a given, but for me, the single most important piece of advice is missing:

Bike as fast as you can the hell away from the bear - and only hope there's a slower biker behind you.

I would not linger and hang around to see if the bear would ignore me.

Now to the mishap.

When I go on long - and short for that matter - rides, I bring everything I need including food. I'm not a fan of stopping once I'm on my bike and rolling. Dave and hubby, are members of the other camp, which is fine, I'm not a hater. So on the bike ride of yesterday, Dave wanted to stop for food. It was almost four and we still had about 20 miles to bike. Since I had parked at Marymoor, I was a little nervous that they would close the park and I wouldn't be able to retrieve my car. Yes, I drove to the start of a ride for once. Not sure what came over me.

Anyway, we're biking through City of Snohomish and Dave wants to stop for food. I tell him I'm covered and wave my protein bar to show him. He makes a face I'm thinking means he disapproves of my choice of grub. In the midst of my waving I drop my bar and have to stop to retrieve it. Next thing I know I can't see Dave. I figure he's around the bend, so I book it, but can't find him, so I figure he's stopped for food. At this point it starts pouring down so I'll admit I didn't look too hard for him when I can't find him initially. I make the decision to continue on, so I bike on. It's getting dusky, it's really pouring down, and it's a bit windy, making the ride back to Marymoor a proper suck fest. Perhaps that's karma, perhaps it's just coincidence.

A 5:20 I roll into Marymoor Park, wet as a drowned kitten and regretting not wearing rain pants. It took 9 hours to bike 106 miles and that's too long. I need to work on this if I'm to do STP in one day.

Ps! Dave made it home. He had pizza.