SIR 2001 300 km Ride Report

by Mark E. Vande Kamp

Hood Canal is a thin body of cobalt seawater shaped like a fishhook. Along its shore lie towns with both Indian and Western names: Quilcene, and Lilliwaup, Hoodsport and Belfair. Inside the Great Bend, near the place where a barb would curve away from the shaft of the hook lie the Tahuya hills.

* * * * *

Shortly after we had left the ferry and milled around a bit Bill (the brevet organizer) said it was 7:00 and wished us well. Twenty-some randonneurs rode up the inevitable hill away from the Bainbridge Island ferry terminal. The weather was to be fair throughout the day -- highs in the mid 50s with no rain. We couldn't ask for much better from mid-April in the Pacific Northwest. As usual, Kent was off at his standard pace. We've joked in the past that he doesn't have a throttle, he has an "on" and "off" switch. I'd been riding enough with him lately to be used to the lack of a warmup period, so I fell into place a bike-length behind on the climb. Questions ran through my mind and the answers were only to be found later in the ride.

We rode a steady pass across the Island on the wide shoulder of the main highway. I talked briefly with a new fellow named Ozzie who was visiting from San Francisco. He had recently been at a PAC Tour camp in Arizona and was taking advantage of a Seattle visit to sample Northwest randonneuring. The rest of the group was made up of the usual suspects. Andy was riding his "don't hate it because it's beautiful" Trek Y-foil. Derek was doing his part to repel rain by carrying a tightly-packed blue rain shell as a fanny-pack. Ed (whose real name is Orville--a name with a fine bicycling heritage) was very visible in his orange Etxe-Ondo outer jersey. The only missing face in the usual front group was Ken Carter, who would catch up shortly.

We passed the camels on Big Valley Road and I debated my ride strategy. My two years of rando experience have been marked by rides in which early efforts have led to late collapses. This year I was determined to ride my own pace. Still, I found myself in the front group, thinking mixed thoughts: "It's easier to share the work in a group," and, "I want to be able to stop and eat when and where I feel like it," and, "This pace isn't really that hard," and, "What do I really want to get out of this ride?"

The Hood Canal floating bridge provided our first view of the water we would flank for much of the ride. Grebes and other waterfowl floated on the glassy surface next to the concrete pontoons that form the main body of the bridge. One sharply monochrome black and white bird dove and I could see its wings flap underwater, propelling it after some unseen prey. On the bridge sections where the deck is steel grate and the shoulder is textured steel plate I concentrated on the road rather than the water. The plates made a sound vaguely like the ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk of a freight train as I rode across their joints.

The turn onto Paradise Bay Road was familiar from past rides to Port Townsend, but familiarity doesn't make the grade any shallower. I shifted into my rarely-used 24 tooth chainring and watched as Andy and Derek went off the front. Andy has been bitten by the 24-hour MTB racing bug and feels like his biological racing clock is ticking. He has been training hard this year and it shows up clearly in his climbing strength. Last year I might have pumped out mass quantities of lactic acid trying to keep up, but this year I was thinking of the many miles ahead and I stayed in a small gear. At any rate, we all regrouped shortly thereafter and I was faced with a choice: was I a member of the paceline or was I going it alone? I remembered past conversations with Kent about the essence of randonneuring and deliberately drifted off the back of the group.

Cooler heads apparently prevailed in the lead group as I was able to maintain visual contact through the first control at Port Hadlock. After a quick stop I was tempted again by the paceline but chose to drift back a second time as we slogged through the loose chip-seal of Center Road.

Riding alone, my thoughts turned to the many miles ahead and my plans for eating along the way. My longer rides in the past (and some days on which I didn't ride at all) had been marred by problems associated with (how should I phrase this?) an overactive colon. After some experimentation I decided that fruit juice was probably a major contributor to the problem, so today I had two bottles of plain water and one bottle of Ensure in my cages. I hoped that the more balanced mix of sugars, protein, and fat in the Ensure would sit better, and could be supplemented by other food purchased along the way.

At Quilcene I could smell tide-flats and mentally geared up for our first rolling section along the Hood Canal shoreline, but the road turned away from the water and stretched away in a gentle upward grade as far as I could see. I passed the salmon hatchery where a rectangular concrete pool must have been empty of smolts or it would have surely required netting to keep away the kingfishers and herons. There was Derek up ahead. He looked like he might be paying for his earlier uphill romps with Andy, and he confirmed that when I caught up. I tried to cheer him up by telling him how the Tahuya hills must be really bad because no one I had talked to about this ride had even mentioned this five-mile grind out of Quilcene. I don't think it helped and he dropped back out of sight.
After a smooth descent and a few miles of the prematurely anticipated rolling road along the shore, the thought of salty solid food became irresistable. I pulled into the Brinnon 7-Eleven/Quickie Mart/whatever it was and nuked a "Smoky-Polish Bagel Dog". Liberally basted with ketchup squeezed from foil packets, it was delicious. Derek rolled in as I dined on the sidewalk and soon emerged from the store with an egg salad sandwich. I helped him pierce the plastic armor of the packaging with a properly wielded house-key and set off again.

I'm not always good about eating enough while riding, but for some reason I was hungry for most of West side of Hood Canal. The cue sheet mentioned that we were to turn at the Safeway Belfair and this bit of information had me daydreaming about snarfing down Szechwan Beef with rice at the Safeway Deli. The problem was that I didn't know if the Safeway would have Chinese food, or even if it would have a Deli. I ended up playing it safe and hit the Subway store for a chicken breast on wheat, with Dijon mustard. Funny how this stuff tastes so much better 120 miles into a ride than under normal circumstances. Maybe there's a marketing technique here. Then again, maybe not.

I missed the left turn arrow by a few seconds and soon after stopping I heard the familiar click of a clipless pedal. Derek had caught up again, and this time he was accompanied by a rider I didn't recognize, riding a very clean old Raleigh (I later found out this was Jon Muellner). The light had a very short cycle and I didn't have a chance to say much more than hello before rolling forward with Derek and Jon following along.

At this point the ride became a series of comparisons and contrasts between the current 300 km and a 120k ride a few weeks earlier where Kent had introduced me to the infamous Tahuya Hills. It was nice to have some idea of what was to come but a few "minor" changes involving the route and the number of miles in my legs turned out to make the contrasts at least as common as the comparisons. After a pleasant ride up Northshore Drive during which neither Derek nor I was very talkative and Jon drifted back slightly, I found that the first contrast was the sharpest. Shortly after the "secret" control we rolled up to a Y in the road where Kent and I had gone to the right. Today's route sheet said left, a direction Kent had pointed and said, "You can go that way, but -- and I can't emphasize this enough -- you go up a HUGE hill." A hundred yards up the road I realized that Kent hadn't emphasized it enough. Derek kept up briefly before saying, "Do you have a triple?" and then, "See you later" after I answered yes. I ground my way up, and up, and thought about the brevet organizer, Bill and his choice of the left road at the Y. I thought -- bad things. Eventually I saw a lake on the right and the grade eased. Before long I was back on roads I had traveled with Kent and assumed, incorrectly, that I was on fully familiar ground.

My overriding memory of my 120k ride along the Dewatto-Seabeck Road was of hill after hill, where each crest must surely be the last, but never was. It lived up to that memory. What had changed was the road surface. What I remembered vaguely as a slightly rough blacktop had somehow become a maze of dips and broken-edged holes where the good sections of road were covered in extra-chunky chip-seal. I thought of the euro-pros on the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix and followed their advice to mash a big gear in order to stay light in the saddle. I daydreamed about somehow briefly calling up euro-pro speed in order to get this section of road behind me. I ground slowly onward. I did what randonneurs do. At Seabeck Bill was manning the penultimate control. I stepped off my bike and said, "You couldn't let us go right? Up Tahuya River Road?"
"Was it really that steep?" I just slumped my shoulders with a sigh, then laughed.

Anderson Hill Road was the first turn after Seabeck. In describing our 120k ride, Kent had said we would be avoiding this "sadistic" road. There was no question that the granny would again be deployed. Perhaps the road was sadistic, but memory is merciful and I don't remember much of the first, largest, climb. I do remember the screaming descent that didn't provide enough speed to carry the second, smaller climb. Granny, again.

I saw no riders ahead or behind me for the last segment of the ride. I calculated whether a sub-13 hour time was feasible and decided that it was close but not worth a deep draining effort to achieve. I wondered how far the front group was ahead. They had a half-hour on me at Union (about halfway) but Bill said they hadn't gained a whole lot more at Seabeck. I stopped near Poulsbo to switch on my lights (to be seen rather than to see), and I felt the weariness of the long day. The final descent to the ferry terminal was somehow shorter than the climb had been in the morning. Ron Lee had a clever SIR sign equipped with LED blinkies to mark the finish control. I turned in my card and Ron said the lead group had pulled in about 45 minutes before. It was 8:06 and the next ferry was at 8:30, enough time for me to get good and cold, but the ferries have nice long padded benches and after boarding I did my best impression of a cadaver -- hands across my chest and cycling cap pulled low over my eyes. I heard a little boy walk by and say, "That guy must have been out riding all day!" If he only knew.

Although I'd had no stomach troubles all day long, I somehow felt nauseous after the wait and ferry ride. I keep gathering more and more evidence that I've inherited a mutinous stomach. Both my father and I seem to have a type of hard-wired fatigue limitation. A combination of little sleep and lots of exercise leads our stomachs to eventually go on strike. Wasn't there a general who once said, "Armies march on their stomachs." Well, randonneurs roll on theirs, but I still rolled home from the ferry terminal. Luckily, I felt better while riding than I had on the ferry. It was a pleasant night for a ride, with little traffic and the concrete roads and walls of Seattle still holding some of the warmth of the day. I was happy to pull into my driveway, and looked forward to a hot shower. I was also happy with my ride. It had been a good ride; a randonneurs ride around the hook.

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The SIR 300 km

April 14, 2001

by Kent Peterson

I rolled up to the Seattle ferry dock at 5:51 AM, bought my ticket and signed in for the 2001 SIR 300 km brevet. By the time the ferry pulled out at 6:20 AM for the half hour journey over to Winslow, we had a good crowd of riders. At Winslow, we all got off the ferry and pulled into a little parking lot where we picked up a few more riders, waited until 7:00 AM and got the final ride instructions from Bill Dussler.

The week before, Bill, Mark Thomas, Peter McKay, Ron Lee and Lynne Vigesaa had done the official pre-ride of the course. Their adventures involved hail, flat tires and a proposed "simplified" route that involved something called Burma Road which turned out to be steep, unpaved and generally horrible. Bill, Ron and Lynne also missed the last ferry from Winslow by minutes and got to spend a lovely night bivouacking on Bainbridge Island. Their experiences lent an air of caution to the pre-ride briefing. Even though today's route would not include Burma Road and the weather was looking pretty good, 300 km is a long ways to go and this ride features nearly 3000 meters (over 9000 feet) of climbing. And much of that climbing comes late in the ride in a desolate section known as the Tahuya Hills.

Our total count was 23 riders and we represented the full spectrum in terms of equipment, training and experience. There were three tandem teams (Terry Zmrhal & Anne Marie McSweeney, Max Maxon & Linda Knapp, and Duane Wright & Amy Harmon), two Gold Rush recumbents (Jim Giles and Ken Krichman), carbon bikes, steel bikes and probably a titanium bike or two. I was riding my blue Bike Friday New World Tourist complete with custom red, white and blue mudguards made from an old coroplast campaign sign.

At a couple of minutes past 7:00 we took off. Since I'd ridden to the start and usually don't need to warm up anyway, I was with the lead crew, but I knew that wouldn't last. Sure enough by the time we'd rolled across the Agate Point Bridge the really fast guys were out in front. The lead crew was Andy "Fly-foil" Fuller, Ed Husted and a guy from California named Ozzie Ayscue. Derek Bentley and Mark VandeKamp were also up ahead of me but in talking with each of them later, they knew they were going out a bit fast.

My plan for this ride was the same as always, ride at my comfortable pace, make sure I eat enough and don't spend too much time at the stops. This strategy serves me well regardless of distance but it means I ride by myself a lot. Other folks try to gauge their effort for the course and the distance, finishing as fast as they can and basically running down to empty. That's never worked well for me and given that I usually ride to and from these events, I'd still have to reserve enough energy so I could ride home.

Around Poulsbo Ken Carter passed me and went off to chase the leaders. Jon Muellner caught up with me and we rode together on Little Valley and Big Valley Roads. When we passed the llama farm, I pointed out the camel and dromedary. Jon's a strong rider and crossing the Hood Canal Bridge he punched things up a notch and pulled out ahead.

After the bridge the course follows Paradise Bay and Oak Bay Roads up to Port Hadlock. These are rolling hills and on one of the descents the Terry Z & Anne Marie tandem swoops by me and rolls off into the distance. A bit later I startle a raccoon and he leaps about four feet and scampers up a tree.

I reached the Port Hadlock control at (61.6 km) at 9:34 AM. Terry and Anne Marie were just pulling out as I came in and Jon was there as well. As he left, Jon offered me the remains of the bottle of water he'd just bought. I gratefully accept. I bought a pint of milk and a chocolate bar which I quickly consumed before heading out myself.

Center Road heading south to Quilcene was slow going because the surface is chipseal. Chipseal is a fine rock layer spread over a gooey tar base and this base never actually hardens. This means that the road gives slightly, pulling energy away at every pedal stroke. Along this section, I saw Anne Marie and Terry Z, pulled over fixing a flat. Knowing they had the situation well in hand, I waved and said "see you later" as I rode past. Given their power, I was sure they'll catch and pass me before too long.

A bit before Quilcene the chipseal gave way to wonderful real pavement with a few sweeping descents to help compensate for the earlier climbs. After Quilcene, the road climbs again and Walker Pass was a bit longer than I'd remembered. It wasn't bad, it's just that I tend to focus on the Tahuya Hills section of this ride and that makes me forget that while there is about 1000 meters of climbing folded into the 50 kilometer section starting at Tahuya, there still are 2000 meters of climbing doled out along the rest of course as well. Mostly it's in a series of rolling hills, but Walker Pass is a kind of big roller.

What goes up, must come down and the roll down to the shores of the Hood Canal was fun. The weather was nice, mostly cloudy and the temps were in the low fifties. Highway 101 rolls south along the Hood Canal in a series of low rolling hills and goes past oyster beds, small waterside hotels, summer cabins and various parks. A slight salt breeze was blowing off the canal and it was a good day to ride. I stopped at the convenience store in Eldon, a town that seems to consist entirely of that store, a closed laundromat and a closed restaurant. I downed another pint of milk and a Harvest bar and poured some juice into on of my water bottles. Tom Brett caught up with me here and we chatted a bit. Tom's very strong, but he hadn't been training much this year, just doing his six-mile or so commute. Like Tom, I bike commute but at 12 kilometers (7.5 miles) each way my normal commute is a bit longer than his and once or twice a week, I extend it to 32 kilometers (20 miles) by taking the long way home. And I also tend to hammer on Saturday miles, often heading out the door at 3:00 AM so I can squeeze in a few hundred kilometers and still have some time with Christine and the boys. On Sundays, I tend to lounge around.

I left Eldon a bit before Tom did and a ways down the road I passed by a group of four deer grazing by the side of the road. Tom caught up with me a few minutes later. I asked him if he'd seen the deer, but he hadn't.

The Terry Z & Anne Marie tandem passed us before Hoodsport and when we turned east toward Union, we headed into a light wind. The weather was still nothing to complain about and actually was fantastic compared to what we usually get on the brevets. Tom and I pulled into the control at the Union Country Store (kilometer 165.6) at 2:20 PM. Anne Marie and Terry were still there but they took off before long. I grabbed another milk, a chocolate bar, an ice tea and a bottle of fruit punch. I ate the chocolate bar and drank the milk, topped out my bottles and stashed the ice tea in my pack. While I was fueling up, Peg Winczewski pulled in and she was looking strong. I scarfed down another Harvest bar while Tom was busy eating a turkey sandwich. I took off while he was still eating.

There was still a head wind as I rode to Belfair and I decided it would be wise to stop for a bit at Belfair. When I pulled into the Belfair QFC I saw Terry Z. and Anne Marie's tandem parked out front. I bought and drank an iced coffee drink, had another candy bar and topped out my bottles with fruit punch. I rolled out just in time to meet up with Tom, who was opting not to stock up at Belfair. Knowing what lay ahead of us, I quizzed him about this but he said he was in pretty good shape and would stop at a store up the road.

Since we'd turned, the wind became a tailwind and I rolled on ahead. I looked for the store Tom had mentioned, but saw only the remains of what had once been a store. Hmm, I thought, this could have been a bad miscalculation on Tom's part. At 4:47 PM I was at the Kay's Corner turn (kilometer 215.8). This was the secret control of the ride and I pulled a sticker from the plastic bag and jotted down the time. I also knew that this was where the real climbing started, so I peeled off my jacket and stuffed it in my pack. Terry Z, Anne Marie and Tom rolled into the control together. Tom was kind of spacey now, asking twice what time it was and looking a little sketchy. Of course, he knew what lay ahead. In fact it had been a couple of years before that Tom had been my first guide through the Tahuya Hills. He knew what he was getting into.

Terry and Anne Marie did not. Terry casually asked "so there are some hills ahead?" I looked at him and blurted out something not at all comforting, something along the lines of "Oh my God, you've never been here before?!?" A look of concern passed between Terry and Anne Marie. I didn't do anything to calm them "yes, there are hills," I babbled like Ishmael telling about the whale, "lots of hills...tons of hills...and we've got a really big one coming up real soon. And there's nothing between here and Seabeck, no towns, no stores, almost no houses... nothing. Well, nothing but hills." Eventually, it dawns on me that this isn't helping matters and time is wasting, so I take off.

The first hill was as big as I'd remembered and very steep. A couple of times my front wheel threatened to lift off the pavement. I was in my lowest gear and my chain was squeaking against a chunk of coroplast I'd rigged in an attempt to keep chain grime off the rear brake (it's one of the weirdnesses of the Bike Friday brake routing). Eventually, I reached the crest of the hill, pulled over and sliced off the coroplast with my Gerber multitool. While I was doing my roadside surgery, Terry and Anne Marie chugged passed. I completed the fix, took a long swig from my bottle and caught up with the tandem on the next hill. "So there's more?" Anne Marie asks. "Oh yeah, LOTS more." And there were. For a while they'd keep quizzing me about the terrain and we'd pass and repass each other. I would generally be quicker going up the hills and they'd always be quicker coming down and all of this terrain is up and down. In places we'd dip down toward the water and the scenery would open up and we'd have spectacular views of the Olympic Mountains. Then the road would twist and climb again and we'd be back in the forest, climbing toward another crest. The tandem rocketed past me on the descent to Dewatto but then the road climbed again and I pulled away. I did finally think of something encouraging to say, pointing out that the climb back by Tahuya was the worst of the bunch and that there would be a nice descent into Seabeck coming up.

It took a long time to get to Seabeck. The good thing was that it was still light. I've navigated the hills at night and it's tough since there are neither center lines or edge markers. Another good thing was that the dog that lives at the base of Holly Hill was kept in check by his master on this occasion. Back in March Mark VandeKamp and I had been chased by this dog in a dreamlike slow-speed sprint up this hill with the dog looking really disappointed that we could only manage something like 10 kph in our attempt to flee. I did explain to the dog that we were really doing our best to get out of his territory, but he'd have to cut us some slack. Fortunately he seemed to be more interested in the chasing than the catching.

I got to Seabeck (266.1 km) at 7:10 PM. Derek was there but looked just about ready to head out. He hesitated for a bit, but I assured him that I'd be stopping for a while and that he should head out. "You've only got two or three more hills and then you've got it made," I assured him. Derek and I had ridden much of this route last fall in the dark and fog. "Isn't the route different this time?" he asked, "We never hit that big hill with the big descent to the river where you blew your light out." "That's up ahead," I assured him, "it's Anderson Hill Road. You'll know it when you see it." I got some milk, some Cheetos, some fruit punch and a granola bar and while I refueled Derek headed out. Anne Marie and Terry pulled in and Tom came in a bit behind them. Tom was looking pretty bad. "Is it a lot colder?" he asked, "or is my body shutting down?" We told him it was getting some colder but that he had to eat and drink. He was really looking pretty shaky.

It was getting dark now and we put on our reflective gear and flipped on our lights. I took off a bit before Anne Marie and Terry and it looked like Tom might have to take a longer break.

Anderson Hill Road has a big climb, followed by a super steep descent which is immediately followed by another climb. This time I played it smart and shut off my generator light as I crested the hill. When Derek and I had last been here, the sudden acceleration of that screaming descent overwhelmed the surge-protection circuitry in my light and blew out the bulb. As I twiddled my way up the next climb the tandem, which carries momentum real well, pulled up along side me. "We're pretty much done with the climbing," I announce, glad to finally be bearing some good news.

Terry and Anne Marie stuck with me for the next few turns but once we got onto SR3, I figured they'd head out and I was right. We all ride our own rides and the terrain was now very tandem friendly and they were at the stage where the most important thing was to get done as soon as possible and get off the bike. I was actually kind of amazed that I managed to keep their taillights in sight pretty much all the way to Winslow.

I finished up at 9:41 PM. The route sheet showed 310.1 km and my computer showed 304.87 km. In any case, a good honest 300 km. I felt great and my 14:41 finishing time was just about what I'd predicted I'd do. Ron Lee was at the finish to collect my card and hustle me on my way. Terry and Anne Marie were at the ferry dock already, having come in six minutes ahead of me. We caught the 10:00 PM ferry. Anne Marie offered me a ride home, but of course I declined, just as Terry had predicted I would. Maybe if it had been pouring rain or something, but I was feeling great. The ride home was super and I got home just past midnight.

The next day I got bits and pieces of other people's stories in phone calls and email. Ken Krichman bonked around Union and decided to bail out and head for Bremerton. By his own account, he was in pretty bad shape at Union and he can look pretty pathetic when he's bonked. He did head down the road but then the owner of the Union country store waved him down and gave him a ride to Bremerton with Ken's bike riding in the back of a pick-up truck. Ken Stagg also DNFed at Union, the victim of some knee problems aggravated by what he thinks was improper saddle height.

The fast crew (Andy, Ed, Ken Carter and Ozzie) all finished with elapsed times of 12:22 to 12:25. Mark VandeKamp had a great ride and finished with a time of 13:06. Rookie Jon Muellner stayed on course and out of trouble this time and finished with a very respectable time of 13:21. He did mention that he's now looking for lower gears, however! Derek Bentley finished with a time of 14:20 and caught the 9:30 ferry.

Peg Winczewski finished at with a time of 15:11 which means she didn't loose much time in the hills. Tom Brett was not so lucky. He describes the end of the ride as "a bit ugly". He walked much of the monster climb after the secret control and then fell over when he attempted to get back on his bike! (If you've ever seen this hill, you could see how this could happen.) Past Seabeck it took him nearly two hours to reach Poulsbo, a distance of 14 miles. I don't think he'll skip stopping at Belfair ever again. Tom finished the ride with an elapsed time of 16:10.

Next in was the tandem team of Max Maxon and Linda Knapp and Rivendell rider Ron Himschoot. They all logged times of 16:43. Jim Giles proved that recumbents can climb and finished with a time of 16:55.

Bob Magyar, riding a Heron, finished with a time of 19:06. Bob tells me it was 37 degrees when he went by the bank clock on Bainbridge. Canadians Wayne Harrington and Larry Voth finished in 19:42 followed ten minutes later by the tandem team of Duane Wright and Amy Harmon. Duane was recovering from a cold on this ride and Amy was new to this, so even though they were the red lanterns of the ride, I know they were thrilled to finish. Wayne and Larry had a hotel room at the finish, but Duane, Amy and Bob missed the 1:30 AM ferry and huddled in Bill's van and ate pizza. The morning ferry was at 5:30 AM.

Bill Dussler put on a super ride with great scenery and a challenging course. We're all very lucky to have an active local club like SIR promoting randonneuring in our area.

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SIR 2001 300 km Results

April 14 - 15, 2001

Name	Time
Bentley, Derek	14:20
Brett, Tom	16:10
Carter, Ken	12:25
Dussler, Bill	18:31
Fuller, Andy	12:22
Giles, Jim	16:55
Harrington, Wayne	19:42
Himschoot, Ron	16:43
Husted, Ed	12:24
Krichman, Ken	DNF
Lee, Ron	18:31
Magyar, Robert	19:06
Maxon, Max	16:43
McKay, Peter	18:20
McSweeney, Anne M.	14:35
Muellner, Jon	13:21
Peterson, Kent	14:41
Stagg, Ken	DNF
Thomas, Mark	15:05
Vandekamp, Mark	13:06
Vigesaa, Lynne	18:31
Voth, Larry	19:42
Winczewski, Peg	15:11
Wright, Duane	19:52
Zmrhal, Terry	14:35
Ayscue, Ozzie	12:22
Harmon, Amy	19:52
Knapp, Linda	16:43

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Flèche Northwest Results

360 km / 24 hours April 27 - 29, 2001

Team 1 - Team Crossover
Team's Club Name: Seattle International Randonneurs
Team's Club ACP: 947018
RUSA #	Last Name	First Name	22-hr	24-hr	Bicycle
			Distance	Distance	Type
407	BAJEMA	Pete	333	364	single
592	CARTER	Ken W	333	364	single
1041	FULLER	Andy L	333	364	single
Team 2 - Wright Peddling Whole Ahmoos
Team's Club Name: Seattle International Randonneurs
Team's Club ACP: 947018
RUSA #	Last Name	First Name	22-hr	24-hr	Bicycle
			Distance	Distance	Type
442	WRIGHT	Duane	351	380	single
679	HIMSCHOOT	Ron	351	380	single
	MAREK	Pat	351	380	single
752	MAGYAR	Bob	351	380	single
Team 3 - Team Sunnyside
Team's Club Name: Seattle International Randonneurs
Team's Club ACP: 947018
RUSA #	Last Name	First Name	22-hr	24-hr	Bicycle
			Distance	Distance	Type
	LARSON	Don	350	380	single
447	LIEKKIO	Peter J	350	380	single
403	METHNER	Wayne W	350	380	single
64	THOMAS	Mark	350	380	single

Team 4 - SIRly Fleche Peddlers
Team's Club Name: BC Randonneurs
Team's Club ACP: 11601
RUSA #	Last Name	First Name	22-hr	24-hr	Bicycle
			Distance	Distance	Type
	BAILEY	Bob	352	387	single
	VOTH	Larry	352	387	single
	HARRINGTON	Wayne	352	387	single
	FLETCHER	Keith	352	387	single
Team 5 - Audax Alki
Team's Club Name: Seattle International Randonneurs
Team's Club ACP: 947018
RUSA #	Last Name	First Name	22-hr	24-hr	Bicycle
			Distance	Distance	Type
797	MCKAY	Peter M	345	374	single
282	VIGESAA	Lynne Barber	345	374	single
281	LEE	Ronald D	345	374	single
1011	WINCZEWSKI	Peg	345	374	single
208	COX	Gregory	345	374	tandem
137	DUSSLER	William	345	374	tandem

Audax Alki greatly appreciates Jim Giles! Thank you Jim for providing a cache of terrific food and drink at Quilcene. It was much needed refueling at 1:30 in the morning. No convenience stores are open between Hoodsport and Port Hadlock on a Friday night. The cache was easily found -- couldn't miss it with your signs. You're the tops! Cheers!

Team 6 - The Street Gang
Team's Club Name: BC Randonneurs
Team's Club ACP: 11601
RUSA #	Last Name	First Name	22-hr	24-hr	Bicycle
			Distance	Distance	Type
	BATES	John	342	374	single
	LATORNELL	Doug	342	374	tandem
	ALLEN	Susan	342	374	tandem
	LYNCH	Cheryl	342	374	single
	NICHOL	Keith	342	374	single

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Flèche Pacifique Report

May 19, 2001

by Mark Thomas

BC Randonneurs host Flèche Pacifique, a 24 hour ride to Harrison Hot Springs, British Columbia.

The Fleche-Eating Bacteria lost one member before the ride. Don Larsen was sick and had to back out. Wayne Methner opted to come by on Friday night and spend the night here. Kent Peterson, of course, chose the wake at 2:30AM and ride to the start option. (We had an official start of midnight and a ride start of 5AM - an idea that we stole from the BC folks and that I rather like).

It was a great day as we headed out the rollers to Arlington. Partway from Arlington to Darrington, we encountered "heavy mist." (Kent was several times heard to say that it wasn't a downpour, it was a heavy mist). This brought my randonneuring faux pas to the fore. I had read a nice weather forecast on Friday and chose to attach my new rain flap with some electrical tape, thinking that it wouldn't rain and therefore it wouldn't matter much. By Arlington, the tape was all loose and rubbing on the tire, so I ripped it off (no sign of the mist at that point). Leaving Darrington, then, I was ostracized from our little group. I rode hard to our control at Newhalem and set about zip-tying the damn thing on. This had the intended result, as the sun came out briefly during our stop. (By the way, the hand dryers in the public restroom in Newhalem do a nice job on cycle gloves.)

Alas, the heavy mist came back as we headed west. That was the least of our problems as we found a monstrous headwind that would stay in front of us all the way to Sedro-Woolley. With my mudflap safely on, Kent and Wayne were willing to let me lead the 54 miles to Sedro. Indeed they disagreed vehemently with the notion (that I had expressed earlier) that I needed to lose some weight. They suggested instead that I bulk up more to make a bigger hole. The sun came out by Concrete and we had no more mist the rest of the way.

Keith and Cheryl (BC Randonneurs flèche organizers -- we met at Flèche Northwest this year) found us at the DQ for the roving secret control and told us that they were pretty sure we'd have a tailwind heading north. Happily they were right. Only a flat (mine) marred the great riding up to Sumas, otherwise it was one of those "why I bike" times. We were able to reach Mission (across the Fraser) in daylight and futzed around for a while to kill some time. Eventually we decided to roll out eastward slowly so that we wouldn't get too far by 22hours. No one really bought into the "slowly" so Wayne's bike decided to help by flatting. We killed enough time changing the tube and tire that we rolled into the Lake Errock store (29km from the finish) at exactly 10PM.

By 11:30 we were done. The route was a bit longer than planned (I botched the turnaround point in Newhalem in Streets & Trips). We finished with 394km (and only 5500ft of climbing). Our average speed on the bike was about 16mph - I love a flat ride!

By the time we checked in at the cabin, found our motel, and showered, it was 12:30. Kent crashed, and Wayne and I set off on a beer quest. We struck out at the resort and finally found what we later learned was the only late night beer in town at the "Lido." Deserted dance floor, well used pool tables, a crowd a bit younger and rougher than us, and lots of smoke caused us to flee after one cold one.

There were 9 teams, including four from our area.

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The SIR 400 km

May 26 & 27, 2001

by Ken Carter

Folks, here are the results.

Jim Trout was in good form, leaving late from the start and passing everybody before the Secret Control around Kapowsin Store. He was also in good spirits when I met him descending from Cayuse Pass before he came into the Crystal Mtn control.

Tom Brett crested Chinook Pass at 8:44 and stopped long enough to catch his breath. He said he turned around at Yakima rather quickly but had a big barbeque sandwich in Naches that became a gut bomb. He couldn't digest the dinner fast enough to continue riding strong. At the Crystal Mtn control he waited in the Motor Home for Terry Z., Anne M. and Mark Thomas to catch up. Then left with them.

Terry Z, Anne M., Mark Thomas came into Crystal Mtn control together. They liked the Pasta Cup a soup and sat in front of the heater. Mark mentioned that Yakima must have been a 100 degrees riding temperature.

Jon Muellner was in good spirits, laughing and enjoying himself when we saw him at Crystal Mtn. No problems on the ride. Had a brief stay at the control and left quickly.

Mr Don H., Ron H. and Bob Brudvik came into Crystal together. Mr. Don was in prime condition joking with Duane Wright. Ron was somewhat quiet. This was Bob's first Brevet after doing the BC Fleche Pacifique, Don, Ron and I talked him into doing the SIR brevets to qualify for PBP. He has been driving down to Calif. two or three times a year to do the big double centuries, Death Valley, Terrible Two, etc. He fell asleep in the chair while Don, Ron, Duane and I talked about the ride. They stayed about half an hour and then moved on.

Peg W. was riding alone, yet is consistently good natured and level headed everytime we see her at the controls. She had good equipment / clothing and stayed less than half an hour to get food and drink. She changed batteries in her Trek bike light and was prepared with a head lamp as well. She saw plenty of deer.

Bob Magyar was his usual self coming in 10 minutes before Ken K. He was outgoing and level headed. He mentioned kids driving by and throwing a dead cat at him (which he had seen along the road only minutes before).

Ken K was his usual self. Minimal sleep, food and clothing. He said he slept on the road while climbing to Chinook and when he came to Crystal Mtn he had on only an SIR jersey and a light shell jacket. He had an undershirt wrapped around the handle bars which he took off along the route due to the hot weather. It is amazing he climbed, slept and descended Chinook and Cayuse Passes with only the jersey and light jacket to keep him warm. We gave him some Pasta cup a soup and he left within a half hour with Bob M.

On the pre-ride, Pete B. and I had just as good of weather but not as hot in Yakima. Pete rode his single speed and started having knee troubles climbing Skate Creek. From then on he would stop and swap the wheel to get the lower gearing (taking out and putting in links) and then would stop on descents to remove the chain and coast. We crested Chinook around Midnight, stopped to change batteries on his bike lamp, then stopped again to remove his chain to descend down to Crystal Mtn Blvd at around 3:00 am. I ran out of water before Greenwater, and we arrived riding strong in Enumclaw at 5:07. Our slowest 400 km ever. Pete went from doing his fastest last year (14 hrs, ? mins) to the slowest this year.

Linda Knapp donated her motor home for the Crystal Mtn SIR control. Special thanks to her. Duane Wright helped support by being awake at the Crystal control and supplying plenty hot water for each rider who wanted hot chocolate and Pasta cup a soup. Russ Carter also helped check people in at the Best Western hotel room during the late hours Saturday until the early hours of Sunday.

Two DNF's due to different reasons: Bill Dussler - Decided at Packwood he just didn't have enough training to complete the full 400 km so at the turn off to SR 123 & US 12 East he decided to cut the route short and head over Cayuse Pass and meet the SIR control at Crystal Mtn Blvd. We had not setup yet so we didn't see him until a couple of miles down from Crystal Mtn Blvd around 4:30. Mike Harshbarger - After having 6 flats on the same tire, Mike decided to call it quits at a Motel somewhere between Silver Beach and the SR 410 & US 12 East intersection. He called his wife and she came to pick him up and take him back to Enumclaw. We saw him Sunday morning at the Best Western while everyone was cleaning out the rooms to leave. He has done a 200 km in DBC this year and the 300 km in Portland. He didn't like the minimal support in Portland, but after seeing the SIR website, he decided that SIR has their sxxxt together and came up from Eugene, Ore to do the ride. He had no answer on whether he will be back up or not. He does want to qualify for the DBC Gold Rush 1200 km this year.

Name	Time
Bajema, Peter	23:07
Brett, Tom	19:35
Brudvik, Bob	21:35
Carter, Ken	23:07
Dussler, Bill	DNF
Harkleroad, Don	21:30
Harshbarger, Mike	DNF
Himschoot, Ron	21:35
Krichman, Ken	26:59
Magyar, Robert	26:59
McSweeney, Anne	19:35
Muellner, Jon	21:00
Peterson, Kent	19:45
Thomas, Mark	19:35
Trout, Jim	16:58
Winczewski, Peg	23:40
Zmrhal Jr., Terry	19:35

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