Also, the pagan ritual, which i like, is to keep a light burning all night on the longest night of the year, to encourage the sun to come back. In ritual that that is really supposed to be a candle, which you have to stay up with, both for the ritual, and for fire safety. I certainly can never stay up with it alone... I once tried playing games with my then girlfriend all night on the Solstice, but she gave up several hours before dawn.
I REALLY like the idea of keeping my BIKE light on all night for the Solstice ritual! I have several lights on my bike. I have a small backup LED light, which i carried but did not use. But my main light is a halogen headlight and bright red LED tail light both run by a generator. I really like the idea of a human powered light being the light i keep burning all night - by keeping my wheels turning! Isn't THAT a cool idea?!?
I also have a string of Christmas lights on my bike, 45 to 50 multi-colored LEDs, (which i generally keep on my bike from my birthday until Valentines Day every year)... and those would be on even during breaks. I turned them on at sunset, which was about 45 minutes before i left home.
This was a ride that was set up by a club called the Seattle International Randonneurs (SIR). Randonneuring is a very strict style of competitive long distance cycling. It is absolutely self-sufficient -- no outside support of any kind is allowed. (Unlike so many rides where there is motor support or fully stocked rest stops.) While the people tend to be laid back, they are serious about competing against the clock, and often against each other. Many have a goal of entering Paris-Brest-Paris every three years in France, which is the pinnacle of the sport. It is 1,200 km (720 miles), one stage; time limit is 90 hours.
Randonneuring is very structured with lots of paperwork. Riders strive to complete a series of longer and longer rides (from 100km up to 1200km) over one year, and an important aspect is providing the proof of completion. Controls are the way that riders prove they completed the entire course, and within the time limit. You have to have your ride card signed at each control.
I like the attitude and the equipment that many randonneurs have. And i really like the self-supported aspect. However, i'm not at all interested in the competitive aspect. I prefer a more relaxed style; i ride to enjoy the ride, be with people, see the area, learn something, and experience things. To me, flexibility and cooperation during a ride are virtues, not problems. Nevertheless, since randonneurs ride very long distances, they are often the only people i can find to ride long distances with me.
Randonneurs do not have any official equipment, but the people tend towards a view of equipment which i like. It is centered around a efficient self-sufficiency; it is not flashy: back to basics. They ride more durable bikes than other recreational cyclists, more transportational, many ride hand built bikes and it's not uncommon to see lugged steel. They always use fenders (fenders are required by the rules in fact) use innovative, basic cargo bags and have developed some very effective elegant, simple and often attractive solutions.
There are several different types of rides that Randonneurs run. Most of them, the more formal ones, have a set date and time with control stations (including secret controls) staffed by club members who are not riding that day. However they maintain a large list of routes that you can complete at anytime you like called PERMANENTs. This allows riders to get practice and even complete some required distances. Usually on a Permanent most controls are food stores and you prove you visited a control by producing the receipt from your purchase with the time and date. The other riders with you sign your card.
This sunset to sunrise 200 km (126 mile) ride is a SIR Permanent. Actually, this exact route is two different official SIR Permanents with different start/finish points. One starts and ends at Leschi, just south of my house (Permanent 606) and the other (Permanent 390) starts and ends in Redmond on the other side of the lake.
I've always wanted to do a ride on the Solstice and i can never find anyone to do it with me, and i cannot do it alone. And this year i had the fitness to put in a lot of miles; So even though the Randonneurs are not quite my style of riding, i figured i'd join them on their ride in order to get my Solstice ride in.
The group riding yesterday was planning to ride Permanent 390, so the official start was in Redmond), almost exactly 50km (on the course) from my house. But i didn't want to ride the full ride, pass directly by my home, continue all the way to end in Redmond, just to have to figure out how to get home!! So decided i would start from my house, ride a couple of miles to join the route, and then finish at that point too, and it would just be 2 miles uphill and i'd be home. So i would actually be riding Permanent 606.
Since i am not a member of SIR and not an OFFICIAL Randonneur, i could not OFFICIALLY participate. Even though i knew the folks, and they were happy to have me along, i was officially a bandit. In fact, i had to ask permission just to make certain that the others were not disqualified for riding with an unofficial rider! (That's how strict many randonneuring rides can be!)
Anyway, since i was unofficial, it didn't matter at all where i started and stopped, but since the guy running the event was a friend, who respects my riding ability, i thought if i was careful to follow the other route (606) and all the controls, and if i completed it, he might give me a pin. But the pin wasn't important to me. Riding all night on the solstice was what was important to me.
My riding fitness is very good these days (i'd ridden 4,000 miles in the first 11 months of 2010) but, still, it took a couple of days to psych myself up to actually do the ride. Partially because of the distance, and the overnight, (even though those are things i like, i was nervous) but mostly because of the rando riders... i didn't know them and i wasn't sure i could ride with them. I was pretty sure i couldn't keep up. Joe told me, via email, that they were planning to do a twelve, to twelve and half hour 200 km ride. I've done a 13 hour 200 km, so i felt i could do that. My pace is about 14 mph, and that's a 12-13 hour 200 km with stops. It seemed to work out on paper. And while rando rides are NOT stay together rides, Joe's email also said this was pretty much a 'no drop' ride. I told him i thought i'd be the slowest out there, but he assured me it would be fine. I was hoping there would be a few people who i knew, and maybe some who were more into camaraderie than competition.
Still i was nervous. As often happens, i didn't actually start to be serious about the ride until i started telling people about it.
I was also a bit worried about my equipment. Usually that's not a worry -- i keep my equipment tip top. But i lost my good pair of winter riding gloves recently so i've been trying out new gloves for a few weeks. I had been having problems with my front brake and my generator has been failing in the rain for some strange reason. So i spent some time in the afternoon working on my bike and collecting gear. I figured if the equipment worked on the 30 miles to the 'start' i'd be ok
I talked to my friend Nadine. She encouraged me to go. The course loops right around her house out in the country and she said i could stop in, and sleep if i wanted, she would only have one of her grandkids at the house that night and would have a convenient spare room.. She even said she would come out and pick me up if i needed it. That was a very nice fall back plan.
I tried to talk a few friends into going along, and especially someone who would start in Seattle and ride that first 30 mi with me, but i couldn't find anyone. So i would ride that first, very familiar, section alone to get to the 'start' of the ride.
As it approached sunset, i was kind of excited. I had been all day. Nervous too. I liked having the motivation to undertake the challenge, wasn't entirely sure i could complete it, but was confident that somehow, it would be ok.
The sun set at 4:26pm, and i set out at 5:07. It was threatening rain, in fact, about 2 blocks from home i got some raindrops, but the rain didn't continue. I rode a slightly different route off Capitol Hill than i would usually ride so i could join the course at E Galer St & 26th Ave E.
Once on the course, i rode the rest of the way off Capitol Hill, and at the University i got on the Burke-Gillman Trail going north -- this is a 30 mile long bike trail through wealthy housing areas right along the lake shore and i have ridden all or part of it hundreds of times, i know it very well. It's also kind of a famous bike trail, one of the first rail to trail conversions in the US (in the mid-1970s). It was recently written up by the BBC! And it is also one of the most popular: in the summer it is very, very crowded.
There were a few bike commuters in the first few miles, but mostly i had the trail to myself. It's 15 miles to the top of the lake and i was really moving. I was amazed at how fast i was going. I was focusing on riding in my biggest gear, working at maximum efficiency, saving energy, as i usually do when setting out on a very long ride, but still... i was flying. It felt good. I was actually worried that i might get to the coffee shop that was the 'start' point, too early! My light, or rather the generator, was working very well; i was pleased that the repair i had made to it that morning was successful.
After i crossed the head of the valley, still on that trail, i turned south and BAM!! i got hit with a very, very strong head wind. I had 10 miles to go to the start and this wind was quite demoralizing. I was wondering if the weather forecast had changed again and there was a storm of some sort coming in. I even stopped briefly to call a friend who checked the weather radar online for me. (It looked OK.) So i fought the head wind from the town of Woodinville, down to Redmond, still riding pretty strong, but it was a struggle.
I made a wrong turn on a newly built trail junction even though i've been there dozens of times. I made that same wrong turn the last time i rode this trail; it's poorly marked. That added a half a mile or so. But i got to the 'start' in plenty of time, at 7:40pm. Now i was out in the really ugly suburban sprawl. Big 7 lane streets, no sidewalks, strip malls and parking lots as far as the eye can see. Urban design based on Los Angeles. Yuck!
At this point, 50 km (30 mi), into any ride i would need to eat, not just a granola bar, but a meal. And especially since i was planning on riding on for hours and hours, i needed to make sure i had a significant meal. The randonneurs were planning major food stops every 50 to 70 km, but they were just starting out, i was 50 km in, so effectively i was still on my own.
When i rolled into the parking lot where the coffee shop was i saw Matt, who i know through Kent, taking his bike out of his car. Matt lives near me, just one block off the course, i was surprised he drove to the start. He said, "Wow! I didn't expect to see YOU here!
I went inside where cyclists were gathering, more than i expected: there were about 18 in the end. They seemed quite intimidating. At first i didn't know anyone. Also, i'm used to being quite a bit older than everyone, in most situations i'm in, but everyone on this ride was older than me. Weird.
I had already ridden 50 km, they were all fresh. I was quite hungry and really wanted a soup or stew or something -- and probably should have crossed the parking lot and fed myself, but i got a big hot chocolate with whipped cream and couple of big slices of zucchini bread while i introduced myself to a couple of the rando guys, who were pretty focused on the ride ahead . Joe, the guy leading the ride was really excited to see me. Joe mostly knows me from my writing on Kent's blog and he likes me a lot. He suggested that i join the club on the spot (not likely!).
Many of the randonneurs were wearing wool jerseys, but most were dressed, partially, or entirely, in bike lycra. The staff at the coffee shop complimented me on my outfit, a dapper, but very functional brown wool button up shirt and my grey wool Austrian alpine knickers with black knee socks. Very functional, comfortable outfit!
Just before the 8:30 departure, a guy i know named Mark came in, and he also said, "Wow! I didn't expect to see you here!", but without being dismissive. He was glad i was along.
Joe stood up and made a few announcements. A bit about how he was feeling slow, the typical sandbagging that all randonneurs do all the time. Then he mentioned that this was a stay together ride and they were planning a 12 hour 200k. As we mounted our bicycles, several riders admired my bike and complimented me on the Christmas lights on my bike. I was near the front of the group as we left the parking lot.
They dropped me in less than five minutes.
They set out at a sizzling pace, far above my comfort zone. I started near the front of the group of 18 and i was off the back of the pack in about 6 blocks. And then i struggled for about 20 minutes to keep up as i saw them disappear into the distance. That struggle is what really put me behind, i should have dropped to my own pace immediately.
I never saw a single one of them again. I struggled to chase for a while, but finally gave up and stopped to rest for 10 minutes, catch my breath. I accepted that i was going to ride alone. I didn't like it, but i accepted it. I was frustrated and i was trying to deal with that, i was worried about riding alone, but i was also enjoying being on the bike, enjoying the night and a bit surprisingly, not panicking. I was pretty relaxed, a bit depressed, but relaxed.
Rando rides are not group rides. I know that and they know that. They knew i was self sufficient. It was their ride, i can't dictate the rules, and i know they ride fast. But i was frustrated. I wanted to ride overnight with someone. And i wouldn't have left home if i knew i was going to ride alone, i don't do alone very well. But it also meant that i actually did get out there and ride. I suppose turning around was an option, but it did not occur to me.
As the area changed from suburbia to countryside, there wasn't much car traffic, i had one car pass me too close on the screaming descent off of Redmond Ridge right as i got to the Snoqualmie Valley Road, but otherwise i really only saw a car every 5 or 10 minutes.
It was very pleasant riding. Beautiful to be out at night. The valley was cloudy and calm and quiet. I was calm and collected -- not what is normal for me when alone. I kind of thought i would have panicked, but i didn't. I knew where i was. I have ridden in that valley about a dozen times in the last 20 years. I don't know the road names but i knew i could get myself through even if i didn't follow the course guide (which i mostly didn't).
I did pick a road at least once where i thought i might be able to see a row of 17 bike lights across the valley -- i thought that would look cool, but i didn't see them.
The weather was bit strange. In the days leading up to the solstice, the weather forecast for Tuesday night kept changing from rain to clear, but settled on cloudy and dry. Then just an hour before i left they changed the forecast to rain. I prepared for rain, and cold.
Because of the close proximity of Puget Sound and the Cascade Mountains and all the hills and lakes, we have both variable weather and weather that can be very different in two places only 3 mi apart. I think i experienced some of those micro-climates last night.
It kept threatening to rain, but never did. Twice i rode into areas where it appeared it had just stopped raining, but i never actually got rained on. In fact, it was uncomfortably warm, about 50F most of the night. I was dressed for 35F, so i was very warm... too warm at times. I was carrying several extra layers which i never wore. There were several people at the start who had tried the same ride last Saturday night and turned back due to the amount of they found ice on some of the roads near Carnation. There was nothing like that last night.
There was heavy cloud cover all night, but the full moon behind it made the clouds bright. And i don't think the clouds were that extensive, at times i could see the silhouette of the nearby mountains -- at NIGHT!! I'm guessing that means the clouds did not extend to the high mountains, in any case, it was really really beautiful.
The terrain is interesting. I live on a glacially carved hill, that drops steeply into the Sound on the west and 23 mi long Lake Washington on the east. I rode north around the lake, and the weather changed, then crossed the valley to another lake, and the weather changed, then over a large ridge line to another valley, and the weather changed, and up that valley to where 2 valleys meet, and there was different weather each way!
The valley is all farms, very occasional houses (most with Christmas lights) and steep hills on either side of the valley. It was very pretty. There were a couple of very nice lighting displays out there in the country, one isolated house had big bunches of soft blue lights along the eves that i really liked. There were also the a few very gaudy over-lit houses. But most of the riding was dark farmland. It was silent. Just the gentle hum of my tires.
I got buzzed by an Owl!
I was riding slowly up to a stop sign in the dark with farm fields on either side of me when i caught movement in my peripheral vision. I looked to my right and a giant bird, wings fully outstretched was right there, the dark silhouette of an owl's head against the bright clouds was clear. It pulled up and landed in a tree about 12 feet to my left and 3 or 4 feet above me with that housecat-like air of: 'I meant to do that!"
I'm not sure if it was just heading for the tree when i came by or, more likely, it saw movement and shot towards it before suddenly thinking: 'YOW, that's WAY too big for me to fly away with!' and detouring to the tree. It was cool.
I pedaled through the valley in the silent darkness for a couple of hours. I rode up the valley, and then across the valley on extremely lightly traveled roads. Now it was going to change, i was going to be riding on a two lane highway that connects all the towns in the valley. It has a 55 mph speed limit, and even at 11:30pm it was pretty well traveled.
I know there is a crushed gravel bike trail that parallels the highway -- that's the way i usually ride that area, so i started looking for it. Although it might be weird in the dark, it would be nicer riding and i thought it might be a good test for later in the evening when there was a forest trail option. I took some side roads a couple of times, but i didn't find it, as it was already on the other side of the highway.
Once i got to the very small town of Carnation (originally called Tolt, by both the natives and the European settlers, but later changed to the name of the milk manufacturer when it built a factory, now closed, in town), i stopped at a grocery store and got a strawberry juice.
Riding alone, like doing anything alone, isn't really much fun. Part of that is just me, i'm not good at being alone and i don't enjoy it, but being alone also has several other effects. It affects motivation strongly of course: i find it very hard to motivate myself alone, and quite easy to do so with other people. But more seriously, being alone also affects decision making, fewer brains means fewer ideas and fewer perspectives, less data and less motivation. It's easier to miss something, harder to stop a bad decision.
There were two other concerns that i had while i stood drinking my overly sweet juice. One was food. If i was going to continue i needed a significant meal, and i might have already pushed it too far by not doing that in Redmond. I wasn't going to see any good 24 hour food options for about 40 km -- there is a huge 24 hour grocery in North Bend, and another in Issaquah.
The other was the traffic. Riding at night in a group of 18 riders, well lit, reflective, is one thing. But just one bike is quite another. I was comfortable on the empty, open farm roads, but the highway was a different story.
About 10 km up the road from Carnation is the even smaller town of Fall City. It stands at a point where the wide, flat Snoqualmie valley splits into two very tight, steep valleys. The SIR course goes up the eastern valley, does a 20 mile loop through North Bend, returns to Fall City, then goes up the western valley towards Issaquah. I had already decided to cut off the North Bend loop. A fun loop to do -- i wasn't interested in doing it alone. (But i might encounter the SIR riders in Fall City after they finished the loop!)
That left me a big decision ahead when i got to Fall City: what route to take to Issaquah. All of the options were poor ones. I could ride the course out Issaquah-Fall City road -- a narrow valley that i wasn't familiar with but i believed to be a highway like the one i was on. Not fun. (I've since discovered that it is not a highway.) There is a gravel trail through the forest which i am familiar with but didn't want to ride alone at night. Spooky. (Not to mention the potential to encounter wildlife!) And then the freeway, which i have ridden a couple of times, but wasn't about to try at night. Again, if i wasn't alone, the decision making process would've been very different.
I chose none of them. I called Nadine. It was midnight; i knew if i waited longer to call her, she would be asleep, and i didn't want to wake her up, even though she insisted that was ok. It turned out that she was on her way home from her sister's house and was already fairly close by.
I told her to meet me in Fall City. I saddled up and headed up the valley on the highway. The traffic on that section to Fall City was frustrating, seeming to validate my decision in a way. She picked me up when i had ridden just over 50 miles for the evening.
When we got to her house south of Issaquah, she gave me a big bowl of potato soup and i went to bed. It was hard to get to sleep, i had prepared myself mentally and physically to be up all night… but eventually i did sleep, although fitfully. I was a little disappointed that i didn't stay up all night on the longest night. In the morning Nadine made me an omelet and i set out on my way.
It was sunny and not very cold, the opposite of what the forecast had predicted. There was a road near her house that i had not ridden in over 15 years that i wanted to see, so i rode bits of the course, but took some major detours before rejoining the course in Renton.
I crossed paths that morning with three people i knew, and was able to invite one of them on a ride i was leading later in the week! I rode strong and enjoyed the ride, especially along the lake going north back into Seattle. All of it was on familiar roads. Just a couple of miles from home i stopped at a bakery for a sandwich and juice and then made sure to ride on to E Galer St & 26th Ave E, ritually completing the course, before heading up the hill home. I realized why i don't usually go that way, the hill on Galer is VERY steep! I had to walk most of a block.
It was a fun ride, despite my frustration at riding alone. If i wasn't alone i almost surely would've ridden to Issaquah and would've completed the 100 mile loop and probably the 126 mile (200 km) course overnight. But it turned out well, and i rode 91 miles (145km). I honestly felt like it was success.
One of the reasons that randonneurs give for doing the rides that they do, one of the excuses, is to test out skills and equipment. My equipment performed flawlessly. The repair i made to the generator worked very well. My wheels are on their last legs (so to speak!), i knew that. They need to be replaced soon. And my gloves weren't great. Not terrible, but not satisfactory; i was testing out a new pair of gloves, i still can't find a really workable pair like the old REI gloves i had for so many years.
I was pleased that everything worked quite well. And my skills were also quite up to the task. So both get an A. I did well, rode strong, made good, safe decisions. Handled the bike well, handled the dark well, enjoyed the road, experienced the night. I was pleased.
The ride was enjoyable. It was interesting, it was weird, it was frustrating, it was a learning experience. Over all it was good.
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