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I knew at 12:30 am this morning that I would have trouble waking up six hours later for a ride, and I was right. The alarm went off, and I almost fell over from dizziness, standing to turn off the alarm clock. I mumbled something about it being too early and I would just have to ride another time, but this little guy — I like to call him *Fred — in my head started a conversation with me.

“So,” says Fred, “you’re just going to bow out of a ride because you got six hours of sleep, huh?”

“Hmph, snort, cedar chips blasting honey smack downs, blibber, blobcakes,” I mumbled back. +

Fred replied (by the way, I call that little guy in my noggin’ Fred); he said, “and how do you think you’ll do on the MS150 in August?”

“Bumble fries, snooty cakes — huh? What did you say? MS150?” I was finally starting to wake up.

“Were you planning on a mediocre ride again? Were you planning on shaving off 15 miles (i.e. Hagg Lake) again?”

“uh . . . well . . . I . . .”

“And how’s that working for you?”

I lept out of bed. If not now, when? Good question. I’m glad Fred was more awake than I was. I looked at the clock: 6:45. I could do it, so I donned my lycra-spandex shorts and jersey, filled up the hydration pack, pumped up my tires, and headed off.

I had about 1 1/2 hours to ride, so I wanted to make the best use of my ride. I could do the same ol’ Farmington/Tile Flat/farmland ride, or I could do some hill training. It was a Sunday morning, with no traffic, so I decided that this would be the perfect time to climb the West Hills.

In case you too would like some good early morning, weekend hill training, I will give you directions. Baseline (eastbound) is a good road to start on, since it has a good shoulder – I took it from about 209th Ave in Hillsboro:

• Take Baseline Rd from Hillsboro or Aloha (or wherever you happen to be)
• Turn Left at 158th Ave (north)
• Turn Right at Walker Rd. – (3 miles at this point)
• Turn Left at Cedar Hills Blvd
• Turn Right at Barnes Rd – (6 miles at this point) – This is where the real hill starts
• Turn Right where Barnes Rd turns into Burnside Rd
• Take Barnes past the cemetary to the top of the hill (you know you’re almost there when you see the towers)
• Stop and take a gel pack (I like GU Espresso Love) when you get to Skyline – you are now at 9.5 miles
• Enjoy the silence – I saw only 1 car coming up the hill
• Turn around and head down – Now comes the fun part

Let me just interrupt for a moment to comment on the descent. Sunday morning – and I suppose Saturday morning as well – is the ideal time to make this descent. I tried descending Cornell Rd from Skyline during rush hour one time, and I’d never do it again.

Barnes Rd. is similar to Cornell only it has a shoulder for much of the descent. Today, it was no problem without the traffic, but it would be a scary descent with a lot of traffic, especially on the section just after Barnes & Burnside meet. Even after a relatively wide shoulder picked up after a few turns, I was going so fast that I didn’t want to ride on the shoulder (the pavement was different: some type of concrete).

On the descent, I insist that you take Barnes Rd all the way to Cornell. The best section comes a little after the Sunset transit center. A ray of sunshine fell upon me as a chorus of “Ode to Joy” rang out in my mind. Why, you ask? Barnes just got newly paved a little before Cornell, and there is a sweet downhill section. I probably hit my top speed because I couldn’t resist. I slammed the bike into the highest gear, tucked my head down, and pumped my legs as hard as I could. ‘Oh yes!’ I thought, ‘the sweetness of new asphalt on a descent.

Let’s pick up the route again:

• Continue on Barnes Rd all the way to Cornell Rd – at this point, it’s 14.2 miles
• Turn left at Cornell Rd and return home (wherever that may be)

All in all, it was the perfect Sunday morning ride. I highly recommend it if you have 1 1/2 hours in the early morning.

* Fred actually comes from a handy fiction-writer’s guide named, Creating Short Fiction, by Damon Knight. I read it for a creative writing class I had at Whitworth College.

+ Credit must also go to the goofy, half-asleep talk from Hank the Cowdog from the wonderful children’s book series by the same name: Hank the Cow Dog

For all of you folks on the west side of the West Hills (that includes Beaverton, Raleigh Hills, Hillsboro, Tigard, unincorporated Washington County, Forest Grove, Banks, Cornelius, Sherwood, etc.), what is your favorite ride? What makes it such a good ride?

The best road out there — in my opinion — is Spring Hill Rd. I found it last year at the MS150 ride. They changed the course from the previous year to add it. It winds through a lush and secluded dale and meadow. The pavement is smooth with a nice shoulder. If you head southbound on the road, it’s a great gentle hill to descend, and best of all, at around 9:00am or so on a Saturday — at least during our ride last year — there was absolutely no traffic.

To get there, you could take Spring Hill Rd from Hwy 47 or Hagg Lake. If you don’t like Hwy 47, and I don’t blame you, try Bald Peak Rd (from Hwy 219) to Laurelwood Rd. You don’t have to go up the entire hill to Bald Peak Park. Instead, stay on Laurelwood Rd until you go down the hill and meet up with Spring Hill Rd. I haven’t tried it yet, but I may have to now that I mentioned it.

It all started out like most rides do, “Hey, we have some time Friday morning. Let’s get in a ride!” Innocent response, “Sure.” After agreeing on the time, it seemed like it would be any other ride…

The familiar route we had planed got scrapped when I needed to deliver family at the same time as the ride. No problem. We’ll toss the bikes on, and start the ride after the shuttle service was complete. Anyway, then we will be able to explore some other territory.

The morning started with a mechanical mishap. When we were attaching the bike rack, the nut fell into the many layers of plastic that make up our bumper. It just happens to be that our van’s jack has a plastic wing nut that fits the bolt on the bike rack. Improv win’s again. We were on the road only 2 minuets later than I had hoped. The shuttle service went without a hitch and we were on our way to the trail head. I turned to go up Kingsbury grade, only to realize that I left the route information for that ride at home. No problem, we’ll go on the ride off Spooner summit.

We drove straight to the trail head, unloaded and were on the trail. After about 70 yards of warm up, it was up, UP, UP! Here is where the fire danger starts. Matt’s quads were shooting fire and my lungs got to bonfire size burning in no time flat. We would ride for a while, pause, let our heart rate get below 180, then press on. After about 30 minutes we saw the smallest bear cub I have ever seen in the wild right on the path! A little guy, about a foot high at the shoulder usually means protective Mama Bear close by!!

We stopped (as should be obvious to all, out of wilderness safety in encountering a bear. The stop had nothing to do with the fact that we felt like we were climbing a cliff on our bikes) and started yelling in hopes of flushing out the mama bear. “Hey Mama Bear.” Matt’s favorite was to yell “Not today bear.” I can only assume he meant “As juicy as we may look, we’re not your lunch today mama bear.” The little cub (who will now be named Smokey, not because of its brown/black fur, but because if it would have got to close to either of us it would have got singed from afore mentioned fire hazards) toddled toward us in that classic awkward looking bear walk. When Smokey got to the side of a tree, he plopped down his bottom and just watched us. Now Smokey was on the side of the road where there were just a few trees. We could clearly see that Mama wasn’t over there. To press on would mean riding between Smokey and the brush on the right which would be a perfect place for Mama to come out of when we got between her and baby bear.

After yelling for a few more minutes, Smokey took off ambling up the hill. We made up a story of how the Mama was asleep in her den when Jr came bounding over the top of her at the crack of dawn. After a little ear tugging and general cub antics, Mama sent Smokey out for a morning hike so she could finish her beauty sleep.

We kept going up the hill, took a left where the guide book (that I had with me, but didn’t check) said to go right. The wrong turn dropped us at a lookout that was Spectacular! We had a great view of Spooner Lake and most of Lake Tahoe. We enjoyed the view and realized that most of our hour bike ride had already expired. Going down was good technical training as it was mostly loose sand with a few rocks and roots sticking up.

To round out the adventure, while we were driving back home we saw a cyclist waking his bike out in the middle of nowhere. We had the bike rack on so we picked him up. Turns out he (Nathan) does a ride around the lake every year. This time he made it about 75% of the way before he heard a hissing sound from his tire on a long steep hill. He decided to walk the rest of the way instead of blow out at 40+ mph.

This was my first ride with Matt. Hopefully he will overlook my classic blunder of picking a ride based on a map that did not have contour lines to show screaming steep elevations. I think I am going to get my hands on a topographical map before my next exploration ride. Remember, Topos are your friends!

As a previous post mentioned, Bald Peak is a great ride, with the best part being flying down Laurel Rd. Being that I haven’t ridden in over a month, I decided to see if my legs still work. So I jumped on my bike and headed west (with my tires untested since the “firecracker” incident).

Almost immediately I got a good pace going along Farmington Rd (~22 MPH). That was encouraging, to say the least (yes, I have youth on my side). But after 8 miles I was at the base of the monster, starting up Bald Peak Rd. Reality hurts! Out of shape I slowed to ~5-7 MPH going up the hill, fighting to stay above the minimum speed of 4 MPH (it is hard to ride my bike on a hill slower than that). Never did I have to dismount, I am proud to say. (Riding a two-chainring roadbike is no fun on the hills). It was a very hot day, and I fortunately brought plenty of water.

The pain was over soon enough, since the hill is only 1.25 miles long. Yes, Bald Peak is farther up the hill, but that was not the focus of my obsession today. Today was all about beating a personal speed record: 56 MPH was the speed to beat. I stopped at the intersection of Bald Peak and Laurel, doing a few laps on the flats to loosen up my legs after the steep climb. And then I was off.

I came barrelling down the hill, quickly up to 40 MPH. Then I saw him, about 200 yards down the road…a little white pick-up pulling out onto the road, IN MY LANE! I thought, oh he is far enough ahead of me to not get in my way. So I continued to tuck and gain speed.

What is this, he is not going to go the speed limit? Grrrr… I was immediately on his bumper, as if the 200 yards never existed. By this point I was going 50 MPH, maxing at 54 MPH without even trying (I think the car’s draft made that possible). But my legs were all ready to go full tilt! I thought about passing the guy (that would have been a sight! Imagine the look on his face being passed at that speed by a bike!). But there was a car coming up the hill in the other lane so I had no room. And then I was at the bottom of the hill, with no more room for gravity to do its magic.

As the little truck went on it merry way (sometimes slowing to a pathetic 35 MPH on that powerful hill), it would suddenly pull into the oncoming lane. Well, at least I am glad I didn’t try to pass him…he could have hit me from the side without warning!

Lesson to be learned: Though you may be able to race with the big machines of steel, when it comes to car vs. bike, car always wins.

I have arrived at Lake Tahoe for my summer assignment! I was considering doing the “Most beautiful ride in America” which is a ride around Lake Tahoe. I decided not to go when we had a conflict in the schedule. That morning we visited a local church and they mentioned that the road was closed and that we should pray for the WRECK on the highway. Hmmm maybe it’s good I didn’t go. My goal for the summer is to ride around the lake (73 miles) by the end of our time here (mid July) That should correspond well with training for the MS 150 in August.

I have got out on my bike a few times, but have not made it to Angora Lakes yet. For those of you who I haven’t blathered on about Angora Lakes, it is these three little alpine lakes that are nestled below majestic peaks, huge boulders to hike around and perch on for unparalleled times of solitude. OK, enough blathering. I went up to Fallen Leaf Lake, which is close. I have my front shocks tightened down because I knew I would be on all pavement. Bad idea! The bumps and potholes on that road are more severe than many off-road adventures I have been on. Next time I’ll dial it in.

On another subject, Beaver Boy rode down to Pope beach and back. A round trip of 3 miles. A significant feat for his little legs and 16″ tires! Here’s to a budding young cyclist!

Our first official ride in the San Juans was our Sunday ride to Shark Reef and back. It’s a great ride, and pretty much anyone who can ride a bike could do the trip (except maybe little kids). Here are the directions:

• From Lopez Farm Cottages, head south towards Lopez Village
• Left (east) on Cross Rd
• Right (south) on Center Rd
• Right (west) on Dill Rd
• Left (south) on Fisherman Bay Rd
• Right (west) on Airport Rd
• Left (south) on Shark Reef Rd
• Stop at Shark Reef Park entrance (you’ll see the parking and be glad they thought of us and added bike racks)
• Hike the trail for a short distance to the park and enjoy its beauty
• When you’re done, head back north on Shark Reef Rd
• Right (east) on Airport Rd
• Left (north) on Fisherman Bay Rd all the way to Lopez Village (you can’t miss it)

We headed towards Lopez Village and a little before the town, we turned left on Cross Rd., then right on Center Rd. I can imagine that Center road might not be the best at the height of the vacation season (we hit the most traffic here), but it was no problem in March.

Looking at the map of Lopez Island, we thought it would be nice to have a little sojourn at Hummel lake. What the map didn’t show was that there was a great downhill descent to Hummel lake, and just when you approached it, there was a nice long hill heading away. All momentum would be lost if we paused to enjoy its pristine beauty. It was truly a sight to behold — at least it seemed that way through my peripheral vision.

The hill away from Hummel lake was enough to convince us not to stop at Hummel lake, but the entrance to the lake is actually half-way up the hill, so you can pull off to the left and wind down to the parking lot. From there it’s a short trail to the lake. We couldn’t see the lake from the parking lot, so we decided to just move along to our destination rather than hike around to get a better look at the lake.

The countryside was beautiful; although, I must admit, it is not as green as Washington county. Then again, it doesn’t rain as much on the San Juan Islands. The countryside, though, did look much like rural Willamette Valley with its rolling countryside.

My beautiful bride riding on Shark Reef Road

Soon after the hill, we turned right on Dill. I believe the only other cyclist that we saw on Lopez Island was on Dill Road going in the opposite direction as us. He was wearing the standard issue commuter-yellow jacket. We waved at one another then proceeded to Fisherman Bay road and turned left.

Fisherman Bay Rd. was the busiest road, but the shoulder made it fine. Before long we turned on airport road for a little jaunt to Shark Reef Road. In my opinion, Shark Reef Road was the highlight of the ride. It was any cyclist’s dream come true. There was virtually no traffic whatsoever, and the scenery was outstanding with its smooth pavement and tall stands of trees on both sides.

We continued for about a mile until we saw the parking for Shark Reef State Park. They had nice bike racks (I always love it when they think of us cyclists). You couldn’t see the shore from the parking. You had to hike on a short trail that wound around the wooded area before coming upon the reef.

There was a grassy spot overlooking the area; it made for a great picnic. From there you could see San Juan Island and the lighthouse at its southern tip.

View of Lopez Village on the other side of Fisherman Bay (from the south)

The ride back was great. We got to enjoy the scenery of Shark Reef Road one more time as we backtracked to Fisherman’s Bay Road. The second highlight of the trip was the hill that descended towards Lopez Village. Coming up the gradual climb from the south, we hardly noticed we were ascending, so when we got to the downhill section, it was a pleasant surprise.

Before long, we were at Lopez Village. We had a coffee break at Isabel’s Espresso. The best part was listening to the locals discuss their hunting stories.

After Isabel’s, we returned to Lopez Farm Cottages for a cap off at the hot tub to unwind — what a great way to end the ride!

The Lowdown

Note: Before I begin, I must add this disclaimer: When we went, Washington students were not on Spring Break, and the weather had just started getting better.

Lopez Island was not crowded; the roads did not typically have large shoulders, but there was a little room on the right of the white line, and I was never nervous about sharing the road. Traffic was light (it was still the off-season). There were some rolling hills, but nothing major.

Hummel lake was quaint. The beauty of Shark Reef road was stunning, and there was virtually no traffic. Fisherman Bay Rd was well-maintained with a good shoulder. Lopez Village is a fun town to visit (definitely have coffee at Isabell’s Espresso and dinner at the Love Dog Cafe).

I know it’s insanely late to post my comments on Reach the Beach this year (as it would be 2 months late), but I feel I should tidy up loose ends, and the ride had an interesting route, plus, I wanted to display some of the pictures I took.

Here’s a shot of a mini-pelaton that I joined a little
after leaving Amity

All around it was a great ride and a rousing success. I don’t know how many riders there were, but I was number 3250 or something like that, so there must be 4000 or more riders. That is, of course, unless they do rider numbers like the first check from your new checking account — you know, number 501 (as if businesses won’t cash check number 1).

The original plan was for me to do the full century with Steamroller and El Cap, and the Mrs. Samwise to ride the 26 mile loop with Mrs. Cap, but Steamroller, who talked me into going on this event in the first place, chose not to do it this year, and El Cap was undecided.

When it seemed I had no one to commiserate with me on the century and I looked at the prospect of doing a century without as much prep as I would prefer, I decided to do the 55 miler with my bride: aka Mrs. Samwise (Rosie?). After all, Rosie was already in great shape from our Spring Break trip to the San Juan islands and was eager to do the 55-mile option.

The shorter route started in Amity, a beautiful town by the way, on a cool, but sunny morning. The century folks started two hours earlier when it was still drizzling. You could tell the century folks because they had fenders and rain jackets. We less hardy riders, knew the weather would be great by the time we prepared to ride, so we were able to forgo the rain gear.

Here is a group, including my wife,
approaching Sheridan

The first leg was a most beautiful ride to Sheridan — home of the Phil Sheridan Days. It wound around beautiful rolling farmlands. Rosie talked one of her co-workers into riding with us. Rosie and her co-worker took off while I finished putting my bike together, locking the car, eating breakfast, and packing our bag for the post-ride celebration to be sent off on a Shuttle. Their headstart gave me the perfect excuse to take a more agressive pace.

It took me almost until Sheridan before I could catch up with them, but we had a mini-reunion at Sheridan High School. The snacks were great, and all the volunteers were especially nice. The best part was the mechanic from the Bike Gallery. He tuned up my derailleurs and adjusted my brake cables, and he did all this while giving a mini-seminar on fixing flats (see my comment on And you thought firecrackers had no place in the world of cycling post.

Once again, the women took off before me, and it gave me a mission to accomplish: get to the next stop before they could. This next leg would take us all the way to Grande Ronde. Once I got underway, I joined one group after another until I found a group that went fast enough to challenge me, but not so fast to tire me out or lose me. We got a great pace going, but it wasn’t without drama.

This was the worst and therefore most dangerous section of the ride. I knew Highway 18 would be bad, considering many deem it to be the most deadly stretch of highway in Oregon, but the West Valley Highway was just as bad because of the heavy traffic and spotty shoulder. It doesn’t help that there is a good number of inexperienced riders. It also doesn’t help when you find yourself having to pass many riders.

Don’t get me wrong, Highway 18 lived up to its reputation. We heard that many people opted not to try to pass anyone. I don’t blame them. The shoulder is wide enough, but it includes the washboard divits to allow sleepy drivers to navigate by braille. That meant that in order to pass, you had to ride along the washboard or risk becoming roadkill.

The original group of riders had about 6 of us, but after passing a few riders via the paved emory board that was the Highway 18 shoulder, one of the rider’s road bike began chattering. His fender (must be a century-ite) had been knocked loose and was now bumping his tire. after a few minutes, he bowed out of the group to fix it, and apparently, he had a fellow rider that stayed with him. We all offered to help, but they waved us on.

By the time we turned off of 18 and headed towards Hebo, there were only 3 other riders, and they began picking up their pace until I was going solo up the hill. I was soon at the lunch stop, and the sun began beating down on us. I waited until the women showed up (I think I passed them just before Highway 18).

We opted to finish the ride as a group, so we all headed off to the penultimate stop together. We were to travel up the hill, then go down about a mile or so before the next stop. I would say that the hill was a moderately steep hill. Most riders could do it without doing themselves in. I would have enjoyed spanking the hill, but I was content to simply take it and enjoy being with my bride.

The downhill was great especially since there was not a lot of traffic and a wide shoulder. Before long we were at the last rest stop before the finish line. We were hanging out chatting when all of a sudden: pop! hiss! My wife’s coworker’s tire expired. I looked at my wife and her coworker, then I looked for any kind of mechanical support people hanging around: no one. Everyone was looking at the flat tire, but no one was offering help.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stopped to adjust my saddle, take a picture, or simply rest or stretch for a moment, only to have 3 or 4 riders offer to help me. Here we are now, with around 25-30 cyclists all staring at the flat tire, and no one offered. I was the only logical choice, plus, after the tire changing seminar, I knew what I had to do.

Any way our unfortunate rider did at least have a boyfriend who insisted she take a spare tube just in case. When I removed the tube, I noticed that she had the sorriest looking rim tape I’d ever seen. Her old tube had pimples all over it from the spoke wells (whatever you call them). The rim tape did almost nothing to cover them. All I could do was to replace the tube and stress the importance of correct rim tape.

Before long we were all on the road. We were now on the last leg of the ride. The “sleigh ride” to Pacific City. The “sleigh ride” section seemed to be aptly named, at least it seemed that way by looking at the contour map. Other than 1 steep but short hill, it was a gradual, but consistent downhill all the way to the beach.

Let me tell you, it was anything but a sleigh ride, unless that sleigh ride was a ride to hell. It’s bad enough that fatigue is setting in, but there was a nasty head wind the entire way that got worse as we approached the finish. To cap it off, for the last 10 miles, each mile had some kind of “inspirational words” designed to encourage us as we finished the ride. I was not encouraged; in fact, my primary strategy for the final stretch is to clear my mind of any semblance of an “are we there yet?” attitude. Every sign was a reminder that I wasn’t done with the ride yet. As much as I tried to blot it out, I couldn’t help but notice how much longer each mile seemed to get.

They were taunting us as if to say, “so you think you’re almost done? You really have 8 more miles left.” In fact, it was distressing enough that my mind has completely blocked out any of the sayings. Needless to say, in my case it backfired. Even in the last stretch, where I could see the Pelican Brew Pub, I wasn’t encouraged, but that was mostly because of all seeing all the cars with bikes already loaded heading back to Portland.

There were some gracious volunteers who welcomed us to the finish line, and amazingly, we did get a hearty applause, so it was gratifying to finish. The food was certainly worthwhile, and all pain and fatigue melted away with the delicious pasta and dessert (that was unforgettable).

If you’re looking for a ride, I do recommend the ride to Sheridan, and I do recommend the stretch from Grand Ronde, but I don’t recommend The West Valley Highway or Highway 18 if you can avoid it. If you do insist on taking highway 18, do all you can to minimize your time/distance on the highway unless you plan to head to Lincoln City (that’s a different ride though as it won’t take you to Pacific City).