I Have Tasted Flèche, and It was Good

This is the second attempt at this post. The first attempt was posted and public for a while, but apparently the whole Blogger system went down. That post was a casualty. Blogger repeatedly reported that all posts have been restored "except for a very few" so I'm guessing mine was one of those few. Since I lost most of the content and had to recreate it, I just lost some gumption along the way. What follows is my second but paler attempt to capture the essence of what was a satisfying introduction into team randonneuring.

I completed the Seattle International Randonneurs 2011 Flèche last weekend, and the Flèche is a wild event. The rules do not correlate with any other ride or experience I've had, but if you want to explore the details of what constitutes a Flèche, check out this page from the Randonneurs USA website.

The essence of the Flèche is that it is a team event with a number of teams originating in different places all riding toward one central ending location--in our case: Olympia, WA--and each team must continue riding for 24 hours straight. From there, it gets very specific and detailed. But this collective nature, of forming teams, is the allure of the Flèche.

My teammates, Dan, Narayan, and Jeff, pictured left to right above at our first controle, were all pretty experienced at both randonneuring and Flèching. We made a good team, and we stuck together even when the weather conspired against us in the dead of the night.

One of the beauties of the Flèche is that typically the team gets to stop and eat pretty frequently. We experienced that only once, here in the Denny's in Issaquah.

The picture above is our more typical eating style: on the curb shoving calories down our gullets.

This indoor shot was from the Post Office in Orting. Narayan was pretty cold, heck we all were, but he declared him self so, so we took a break there and Dan gave Narayan a fresh pair of dryer gloves as Narayan's were soaked and his hands were frozen.

The rains hit us pretty hard and worse we hit the foothills and the cold chilled our wet bodies. Coincidentally, we rode through Friday night, and Saturday at dawn was the opening of lake fishing season. Dozens of fishers huddled around bonfires in the dead of the loneliest part of the night from 2am till dawn. Boy, did I want to jump off the bike and warm up next to a fire and talk fishin'. Only problem was that our constant companion through most of the ride was being time crunched.

Above, Jeff Loomis, our Flèche captain for William Tell's Riders, our team name, climbs a hill. He and Dan Jensen led Narayan Krishamoorthy and me up and down many hills. Actually, Narayan is a fierce descender and often jumped ahead on the descents. But Narayan and I struggled up the hills that Jeff and Dan trotted right up. They were very patient, and I'm grateful they invited me onto the team knowing I'd slow them down.

But most of all I want to apologize to my teammates for my end-of-the-ride stumble that could have cost us our finishers' medals. As it became clear that we needed to hustle and stay as a unit near the end to finish on time, Jeff gave us clear instructions about holding ourselves into a pack. And so we did until, following Narayan, I saw him slow down for a minute and peel back. I now had the lead, and instead of keeping a solid pace that was good for the collective I started to pick up the pace. It was so uncharacteristic of my pace throughout the previous 23 hours where I often brought up the rear, but there I was zooming ahead.

Worse, I had flipped over my cue sheet prematurely and I raced straight ahead instead of turning as was called for. Captain Jeff sent Dan speeding ahead to reel me in, and we rejoined our brethren and made it fine. But what was I thinking?!?! Good question. I still don't know. I think it was a combination of addled brain from riding so long and suddenly feeling my oats for the first time possibly due to the two large handsful of chocolate-covered Espresso beans I had eaten at the 22:00 mark.

No excuses no matter what the reason, I'd put our group at risk right on the edge of victory. I hereby apologize publicly to my Flèche brothers.

And that I think does give a sense of what a Flèche fundamentally is: a ride where each cyclist contributes to the whole and so has individual and collective responsibilities. I think I did pretty well on some counts. I came properly prepared. I had plenty of my own food (some wouldn't call Perpetuem and Gels food, but I like them). I wasn't fast, but I had moved past my recent injuries and sinus gunk to be healthy and hale for the event.

DartreDame came to Olympia and met me just after I finished--a surprise move. It was great because the next day was warm and sunny (we have had the wettest and coldest Spring in many a year here so that even Seattleites feel entitled to complain for what it's worth). We strolled around the water and plunked down on a sunny patch of lawn where she kneaded my sore muscles. Now this was the perfect cycling recovery.

Keep it teamed up,

CurioRando

Fall City, Granite Falls, Falling in Love with Fall, Part 2

This is Part 2 of a post I began months ago. For a refresher of Part 1, please go here. Hint, there were cool pictures of horses' heads poking out from a barn.

Given it has been so long since the earlier post, this post will be a little disjointed. Mainly pictures.

Do Woolly Worms predict Winter's severity? I sure don't know, but I wasn't taking any chances. I avoided every one I came across. Then, I got down for a closer look. Legend has it that it is the size or color of that middle band that is the tell-all. Clearly, this one has a rather funky middle band, don't you think?

Eventually, I figured why not just ask him/her. This tiger moth caterpillar, the proper term, didn't answer but just balled up when I queried. Maybe that is the answer. Maybe he/she was telling me I better curl up this year. I don't have a control from another milder year to compare/contrast, so who knows? Now that we've had our Winter, mostly, did this little furry guy correctly predict for us?

These fellows weren't saying either.

OK, if you squint and look for two narrow reddish-orange fishy-looking things in the middle of this photo you'll spy two spawning Sockeye salmon. They certainly know Winter is on its way, whatever the severity.

At the Alaska in Pictures website, they have this picture below of a spawning Sockeye.

Fall Flowers.

But here, I do remember what I was going to say. This is the Skykomish River looking downstream toward Two Bits, an old Steelhead fishing hole of mine and many others.

Here's the Sky looking upstream. All this Fall day moodiness and fishy-smelliness reminds me of my old fishing pal, Boz (no, I didn't mean to say he is moody or fish-smelly). Sadly for me, he moved to New York. It was understandable, as he and his wife needed to be back East with grandkids and such. But I sure do miss fishing or plotting to go fishing or reminiscing about fishing with Boz.

Remember these old Northwest, fishy haunts, Bozzie? Of course you do. You are nothing if not a genuine adventure-is-just-around-the-corner kind of guy. I love that spirit, and we had some times together. I learned Steelhead fishing at your wadered knee, and I loved it all. Best to you and yours in New York. And don't bother with getting all the facts straight as you regale your kith and kin of all your Northwest fishing legends. Facts don't matter, but the spirit of exploring our natural world with good friends sure does! Tight lines, buddy!

 Here, I came along this beaver-chawed tree right along the roadside. I guessed the "X" meant this tree was designated by the authorities for removal. Or could it be the beavers mark their trees first?



Here is my bike for scale. This is one large tree this ambitious beaver was taking on. On a later ride, the tree was gone, neatly sliced off by a chain saw. Efficient, but not nearly as charming.

Keep it spirited,

CurioRando

Fall City, Granite Falls, Falling in Love with Fall, Part 1

Fall is my favorite season. The leaves, the smell of salmon carcasses, ripe manure, spawning, briskness, clarity.

Until Winter. Then I'm a prisoner of snow, the smell of smoke from a woodstove, getting cozy, hot drinks.

Then Spring.... You get the idea. My stepson, the SingingCyclist, often asks which I like better: this or that. I'm just not a this or that guy. I love them all!

So right now, I'm infatuated with Fall. What follows is a two-part album of Fall pictures from my weekend Permanent: the SIR #0850 UW-Granite Falls-Fall City Permanent.



A barn I happened upon.




And the horses that called this barn home.





See ya next time, pals.



Above is a sign by local police calling out why the liquor privatization initiatives in Washington State (I-1100 & I-1105) are bad news. They will cut local law enforcement by stripping millions in revenues from local communities even while they increase access to hard liquor from 315 outlets to over 3300. Bad news, indeed.

UPDATE: Initiatives 1100 and 1105 did fail. For randos, that means that in Washington State, car drivers can't buy hard liquor at a convenience store until 2am and drive on down the road after the bars close and we're out there with our faithful blinkies in the dark. A small but real consolation. Hard liquor can still be bought in State Stores that close much earlier and do a proven much better job at not selling alcohol to minors. For full disclosure, I worked hard in my day job to help defeat these initiatives. Yippee, we won!

Now that is not to say this randonneur doesn't like his post-brevet drink. Deed I do! A little Scotch can be just right!

Not everyone agrees with the way I look at things though, and this ring-nosed bull got a little irritated as I focused in on him.

Here, he's pawing the ground and feigning coming toward me.

But I backed him down with my heart forward approach, and we became friends.

Like many Fall days, this day had many moods. Here is my bicycle just after crossing the Skykomish River near Monroe. The Sun was out, the sky had blue patches, and my bicycle fairly shone. But that was just one moment.

In Part 2, we'll discern this coming Winter's weather with the help of one of our critter pals, and we'll also see whether another critter pal is in contention for a world record.

Keep it Falling,

CurioRando

A Derby Queen with Her King, An Artist with Her Apprentice, A Stubborn Political Party with Their Turf & Many Questioners...all on the Little Arlington Mambo

DartreDame with Bellingham Bay as backdrop from atop Chuckanut Drive.

DartreDame and I tackled the Little Arlington Mambo 200k Permanent on Sunday, and we had a blast. The weather held out better than expected, and we encountered some curious fellows. One man, in a pickup with his wife, asked me to pull over so he could admire my bike. Turns out he is a 650B convert-to-be, and he is all over the kind of bike I just built up. He ID'd my Nitto water bottle holders, my 55mm Honjo fenders, and my MAFAC brakes without prompts. He was stumped as to my rear hub until I told him it was a Maxi-Car. At that, he questioned whether I was the famous Jan Heine?! Not so, said I, though by him much I have learned.

My ride, in case you too want to admire. Here sporting the Ostrich saddlebag for larger carrying capacity than my little Berthoud pouch allows.

Later in La Conner, Dartre and I sat ingesting some calories from the Pioneer Market and a couple approached. The man, a marathoner and self-described "recreational cyclist", inquired as to whether we were "ultra-cyclists"? I demurred, assuming those RAAM crazies are the ultra-cyclists; we are mere randonneurs. But I suppose it may be one's point-of-view.

As for point-of-view, we happened on these two artists below between Conway and La Conner.

 I particularly like how I captured the tilt of the little girl's head as she takes in her putting down.

Who painted these cows (Belted Galloways or Belties)?

 A cupola in a field.

Never having participated in a barn raising--though my grandfather was raised in Amish country--it made me wonder. Does one build the barn from underneath? Was this fellow just planning ahead? Or could it be that all we see is the exposed cupola that sits atop a buried building like my mother so admires? Hmmm.

Yes, those are Dartre's arms as she stretches in front of the chicken coop. Can you read the yellow sign?

 Our Rivers Court Fishing Derby Queen with her winning King Salmon and winning Smile!

And here's my idea of an emerging political party: a stubborn group that stakes out the high ground and defends it!

As a Capricorn, maybe I should start a new party...? How about the Billy Goat Party?

This was Dartre's third ride of 200 kilometers! Congrats to DartreDame! And her secret training secret? She doesn't train! Go figure.

And as to the details of my no-longer-so-new bicycle, I promise to dedicate some future posts to the details.

Keep it on the High Ground,

CurioRando

Is This You, Seattle Rando, Flying Down Mt. Rainier?

Unknown Seattle Rando bedecked in new SIR lightweight jersey.

UPDATE: I'm told this is Elaine Jameson.

DartreDame and I took a run at Mt. Rainier last Saturday, but not as particpants in the Seattle International Randonneurs  #0243 Sunrise Climb Group Permanent. After tea and the newspapers in bed, we had breakfast. After breakfast and fiddling around, I packed our gear in the truck. After that I looked at the clock and realized...whoa, we had better hurry!

It was almost 11am, and we had to drive to Mt. Rainier, ride to the summit, descend, and return home for what we discovered was to be a fabulous wine-paired meal prepared by our now very good friends. Included in the dinner was a raucus Tour de France analysis about the battle between Contador and Schleck as it turned out that Steve (his wife Tanmeet and he prepared the fabulous meal!) was an avid Tour watcher. I could go on and on so wonderful were the food, wine and companionship of that evening, but we've got to get DartreDame, my wife Pramila, up Mt. Rainier right now.

Another pair of unidentified flying Seattle Randos.

So after the clock-checking, we had to "hustle our bustles" as my 8th grade English teacher Ms. Seneff used to say. I had wanted the day to be the antithesis of a time-bound brevet so Dartre and I could relax together, but my poor planning doomed us to hustling.

In fact, as we were about to leave the parking lot at the base of Rainier, Jansen, one of the readers of this blog, stopped to say a friendly hello after he recognized my new Pereira bicycle I've been bragging about here. Poor Jansen, I was so harried by my poor planning that he understandably assumed we were on a time-bound brevet. Not so. Jansen: I thought later I should have taken a photo of YOU for this post, but I spaced it. Next time, and thanks so much for reading this blog. I can't overstate how rewarding it is to be recognized simply by my bicycle and jersey by a reader of this blog. It is an honor to know folks read this. Thanks, Jansen!

Does anyone know this Seattle Rando? I know it isn't Dylan because I didn't whip out my camera in time for a shot of him.

And as for riding with us Seattle Randos, Jansen: don't wait. You've prepared enough. Even if you're not sure whether you're fully prepared, you'll learn more by trying than by waiting. Give it a go! I think that sometimes folks both inside and outside the Rando tent build up this randoing a little too much. It sure is tough at the longer distances, but a 200k to get started is well within most riders' grasp. Come join us!!

See the cue sheet? Yet another Seattle Rando. But who?

Sorry for the poor photo quality but I took these as we were riding up and getting the timing right to capture the descenders was tricky.

Here's Dartre on the early part of the ascent.

Getting closer.

Approaching Sunrise Point.

Made it to the first elevation sign!

Tired, but still willin'.

Climbing isn't easy.

The final approach.

Me, back in the lower elevations.

Mt. Rainier starting to dominate the skyline.

Hard to capture just how the mountain presses upon you near the summit. Really a full presence.

Dartre summits at 6400 feet. I think we started at 3500 feet.

I'm proud of Dartre. She toughed it out despite my poor planning. It wasn't relaxing at all like we wanted, but she reached down and did it, and did it in the hottest time of the day. The things she puts up with, me and my cycling obsession. The descent, however, was sweet. Another milestone for Dartre!

For an account of my solo summit as part of my Sunrise Climb Permanent, complete with elevation chart and map, go to this previous post.

Keep it well-planned,

CurioRando