Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Great stories


I heard a lot of interesting stories on the road to Portland, and even more in the days that have followed. My favorite story is from the family riding in memory of a young man named B.J. who died in an auto accident last August when he was only 18. (I understood it to just be an auto accident, not a car-bike accident.)

The seven cyclists were wearing jerseys “in memory of B.J.,” so I tapped one of them on the shoulder and asked who he was. She turned out to be his mother, and she told me about his untimely death and explained that they were riding in his memory and honor.

And then later, I got a little more of the story from CZ, who left a comment on the last blog post:

“In spite of his tender years he had crammed 5 STP's, 1 RAMROD and the summiting of at least 3 of the 5 major peaks that the Cascades have to offer (that I know of). SUCH a spectacular kid!! So we assembled a motley crew of first timers to join his experienced mom and sister .... one of which was his uncle .... the rest friends .... and we took him for his symbolic 6th STP. Everybody in our group had something "BJ" (his nickname) with them. I wore his bike shoes. We all wore what I thought were spectacular jerseys designed by his mom and sister and SO many folk were SO kind and curious to ask about our mission. It was very touching ... and we heard nearly as many touching tales in return. I was impressed. I was moved. I was proud. I was empowered. I was drained. I AM changed!!”

What a lovely way to honor his memory.

Not just spandex and carbon fiber

I got an e-mail from Anthony in Boston, who wanted me to know that “STP is not about multi-thousand dollar bikes or spandex shorts over $100. You will also see the Schwinn Varsities of 1980s vintage and the teenagers with their baggies. I rode my first STP on a used Raleigh Technium 12-speed I bought for $80 and my training in more recent years included commuting to Seattle from Bellevue on an upgraded Fuji "comfort bike" (front and seatpost suspension, but weighs a ton) that was on clearance for $170 at Performance Bikes. I still ride in bike shorts that are on sale at Bike Nashbar or Performance in the $30-40 range.”

This is exactly right – I saw every type of bike out there, from fat-tire cruisers to those 1980-era ten speeds. And every type of clothing. And every type of body size, too, including a man who must have weighed 250 pounds and was not shy about telling you that he had a custom bike frame built for him because he’d broken a few frames in his day. In fact, a story in yesterday’s New York Times called it the bicycling paradox:

“Cycling is a lot more forgiving of body type and age than running. The best cyclists going up hills are those with the best weight-to-strength ratio, which generally means being thin and strong. But heavier cyclists go faster downhill. And being light does not help much on flat roads.”


What to-do next?

In the story I wrote for Saturday’s paper, I said the STP has always been on my “to-do” list, which made my neighbors wonder what else is on that list. Well, truthfully, it’s a vague and ever-changing mental list. Right now I want to get back to practicing the piano more frequently, and fixing up my sadly neglected vegetable garden; also, inspired by the many, many children and teens on the STP, I’d like to at least do some fun rides with my family.

However, I’ve also gotten a lot of ideas from friends:

* My neighbor Amy thinks I should climb Mount Rainier.

* Miyoko suggests hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

* Roy recommends the RAGBRAI = Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa. “It's a lot of people, a lot of fun and it's unlike any bike ride you will ever do because the towns are genuinely stoked to see you coming. Towns bid to be overnight host towns (one this year mailed hundreds of postcards to RAGBRAI headquarters begging to be picked) and the pass- through towns throw full-blast welcomes as the riders pass through.”

* John W. wants me to do the RSVP next year – the Ride from Seattle to Vancouver and Party.

* Elizabeth suggests I do the STP again, in one day this time. And it’s a great family event if everyone participates, she adds. “I highly recommend, if you have children, to keep this in mind as a bonding exercise for the teen years.”

* Darrell suggests I join a rock band.

* Julie thinks I should go to Venice.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Notes on a great ride



One thing about blogging on the road is that you have no idea if your pictures are downloading properly, or if anyone’s watching. My husband called me on Sunday morning, when we were at Castle Rock High School, and told me there were a bunch of comments on the blog. He read most of the comments to me; it was a kick. So thanks for following me on the road – knowing that I had people riding along, virtually speaking, made the experience much more fun!
I have some other pictures I took with a better camera, and I'll try to freshen up the blog this week, add more commentary and some better pictures.

The ride was well organized and well supported by the Cascade Bicycle Club. Kudos also to the many small-town police officers who stopped car traffic for us along the way, and to the drivers who enthusiastically waved us through even though they had the right-of-way. They were terrific. So, too, were the motorcycle riders of the Goldwing Touring Association, who escorted riders over the Lewis & Clark Bridge and kept watch for trouble along the route.

The only problems – and they were probably unavoidable – were the long lines for bathrooms and food at some of the stops. When a big concentration of cyclists arrived, volunteers couldn’t hand out food fast enough. And on Saturday morning, the lines for the Port-A-Potties at some stops were intimidating.

I’m happy to report that I had no flats or mechanical problems on the entire ride. Physically, the roughest part for me was day 1, at about mile 70. It was hotter than I had expected. My feet and shoulders hurt. I was wiped out, and there were miles and miles to go. I was so pleased to finally spot the sign that read, “Welcome to Centralia.”

On the second day, I set up my bike odometer so it only showed the time of day – not the number of miles I’d ridden. Perhaps that was why day 2 went so much better. I stopped focusing on the miles and just enjoyed the scenery.

The best parts of the STP are the ride through Seattle, the Kent Valley, and especially the countryside between Roy and Kelso. The worst parts: Spanaway and the last 50 miles along Highway 30. There was a serious bike accident along Highway 30 in Oregon – a driver, reportedly driving under the influence at 9 in the morning, who hit a cyclist and caused a chain reaction bike crash with two other cyclists – and then drove away from the accident. I hope the injured rider is going to be OK.

The Blog

Photo-blogging on the bike was pretty easy. I’ve got a new Samsung phone with a 1.3-megapixel camera (nothing fancy – it’s what you get free with a T-mobile account). You can set up the photos to send them to a default destination, and I had set it up in advance to send to my blog. So each picture required just three pushes of the phone’s buttons: One to turn the camera function on, one to take a picture, and one to send it to Blogger.

If you’re interested in mobile blogging, just do a search for “mobile blogging.” Blogger isn’t the only blog service that offers it – I think all the major blogs support mobile blogging now.

It’s also possible to send videos to YouTube from your phone, but this involved a lot more button-pushing, and I only tried this once. I don’t think it worked.

My homemade phone holder, made with balsa wood and duct tape, worked quite well – a picture of it is down further in the blog. I was able to take pictures while keeping good control of my bike. I was also glad that I tethered my phone to my bike handlebars with a stretch of elastic band. That saved my phone a few times, when rough roads jiggled it right out of its holder.

I look forward to the day when manufacturers are able to marry a better camera to a cell phone. In the bright sun, the phone’s screen was hard to see, and I took a lot of so-so pictures.

Random notes

For the most part, people don’t watch the STP. Sure, it’s not the Tour de France, but there was almost nobody on the side of the road to view the spectacle. Instead of watching, people set signs out: “Go Lisa!” and “Chuck – Portland or bust!”

Overheard: Two guys discussing the plot of “Breaking Away,” the 1970s movie about cycling. One guy remembered the plot better than the other. “What, you mean the Cutters lost?!”

The pine forests around Fort Lewis smell fresh and delicious.

Overheard, from a guy riding a fixed-gear bike: “Gears are for sissies.”

Accidental badge of honor at the end of the STP: a tattoo of chain grease on your calf.

I wasn't planning to do this again anytime soon, but John reminded me that the 30th anniversary of the STP is in two years. Hmmm...

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Done!

Whew - it's over!

I'm sitting in my Portland hotel room now, where I hope to get in and add some descriptions to the pictures I took during the STP. I've had a shower and removed a layer of suntan oil, perspiration and road grime from all over. I'm looking forward to a good dinner -- anything but pasta! -- and a beer. I'm exhausted, but not as much as I thought I'd be.

It was a great ride, and now that it's done, I'm already feeling kind of sad. Wow - it's over.

Finished

We got a bottle of water and a special STP patch at the end. There was a great crowd at the park.

The finish line corridor

You ride through a line of well-wishers at the end.

Finally!

There it is...

Lining the streets

You knew you were close to the end when you started seeing people along the side of the road.

Across the bridge

We go single file across this bridge over the Willamette River.

The never-ending finish

I expected the finish line to show up at any point, but it seemed like we just kept going on and on through downtown Portland...

Closer...

Industrial Portland

The last seven or eight miles or so went through an industrial part of the city. It was not Portland at its best.