Cycling…in the Pink

Every long distance cycling trip we take starts with a laundry list of detailed preparations.  Route selection alone can take months.  After all, half the fun is pondering the options and researching a variety of potential destinations.  Once that is settled, a map is produced and we move on to checking out sightseeing, lodging options and local specialties.  The final push includes gathering our gear, making sure everything is in tip top shape (including ourselves) and checking off each item on our packing list.

But we’re still not ready to go.  The last essential piece is Marketing.  What would a tour be without a distinctive name?  a logo?  and of course, matching jerseys?  There’s no mistaking our mission when we’re out on the road, and that is no accident.  Our shirts say it all.

This shameless bit of of self-promotion actually contributes a lot to the trip.  Somehow our jerseys make us approachable.  Just sporting a blatant advertisement for our journey invites questions, from the random query at a rest stop to swapping fascinating stories over breakfast in a café.  We’ve even had folks ask how they can sign up for the tour!

This year the name came fairly quickly.  Starting in the south we’re following the spread of the warm weather, hence Spring North.  The logo was an obvious choice.  Seeing the bluebonnets of Texas in bloom will be a highlight of this trip, so a blue flower won hands down.  And the jerseys, well, let’s just say we picked an eye-catching color.

Now one might naturally assume we’d have blue jerseys to go with the theme.  But this color maven complained that we’d done blue too many times already.  I need some variety in my cycling apparel.  Little did I know that when Rich mockingly said “how about pink?” that he was serious enough to carry it through.

I should have known better. Back whenRich and Erik Super Nerds in Pink our son was on a Lego League team, they chose the name “Super Nerds in Pink.”  Being a supportive coach who was anxious to motivate his team, Rich promised the boys that he’d let them spray paint his hair pink if they made it to the state tournament.  Well, the boys delivered and Rich made good on his pledge.  A precedent was set.

Today a package came – our custom jerseys had arrived.  Tearing into the bag, we pulled out our prizes.  Yes, they’re pink all right.  We’d better like them, we ordered two each.  Wear one, wash one – that means we can always be in uniform.  There will be no missing us this year.  We’ll be the folks cycling in the pink.Spring North jerseys

Cyclists eager to Spring North

There’s a feeling of spring in the air today.  Funny how temperatures just above freezing along with some welcome sunshine can feel so balmy here in the Northland.  It’s enough to start one’s brain dwelling on flowers, wearing shorts and of course…  cycling!  Knowing this blip of warmth is just a tease here in Duluth, we’ve taken measures to find true spring instead.

Announcing the Spring North cycling tour for 2015!  The idea is to head straight south, searching out warmth and blooms in the heart of Texas.  From there, we will work our way back north, as spring warms the adjoining states throughout the month of April.

Once again, we are usingSpring North Tour map Amtrak and the $10 charge for taking our bikes on board to give us a one-way trip.  Leaving our car in St. Louis, we’ll board the train and spend the night in a sleeper car, arriving in Dallas the following morning.  After spending Easter weekend with my brother and his wife, we plan to set off from Granbury, Texas and head south to the Texas hill country.  Our hopes are to catch the Texas Bluebonnets in bloom.  Rich has been talking about this for a couple years now, so fingers crossed we get the timing right.

From there we swing back north, traveling through the Ozark Mountains in Oklahoma, Arkansas and Missouri.  We will complete our journey along the Katy Trail, which follows the Missouri or “Big Muddy” River right back into St. Louis again.  In all, about 1,500 miles.

The timing of this trip presents a bit of a challenge for us northerners.  No opportunity to train!  If we’re lucky, we may get a day or two on our bikes if the temperature spikes in the next few weeks.  Otherwise, we will be training as we go.  It’s not our fitness level that we’re concerned about – cross-country skiing has kept us in shape through the winter.  But without any time in the saddle beforehand, that first week could be a bit sore on the behinds until we get used to cycling again.  But we have a remedy for that too.

This bikSpring North Tour designe tour does not have a solid end date.  Although we can expect to complete the mileage by early May, we have no firm commitments requiring a timely return home.  So we have the option of starting off with lower mileage, taking things more slowly or doing unplanned detours along the way.  We’ve never been very good at veering from the original plan before, but there’s a first time for everything.

Our jerseys are ordered, the train tickets purchased and bikes tuned up for the journey.  It’s still all a bit hard to conceive while there’s still ample snow on the ground.  But we’re banking on warm weather in the south, and looking forward to Springing North.

Backyard Skiing

My faith in winter has been restored.  After weeks – no months – of brown trails I found it hard to maintain my enthusiasm for cross-country skiing.  Sure, we could drive to find enough snow for skiable trails, but that wasn’t the point.  I was used to walking out the door with my skis, sauntering up and over the bridge and skiing off into the woods.  The lights for night skiing seemed to mock me each time I saw them shining through the trees in the evenings or early mornings.

Lester Amity Trails 1Lester Amity Trails 2All it took was a 5″ snowfall to set things right again.  It was enough for the city groomers to ply the trails for the first time all winter.  February 10 has to be a record.  Since then we’ve been graced with light snowfalls that have continued to renew the trails.

The first time I ventured out on the trail, I could feel it.  That sense of well being.  Of gliding over the snow in Lester Amity Trails 3our own woods.  Every turn was familiar and I took pleasure in passing my favorite spots along the way.  The steep hills were still a challenge, and the long downhill on the way back brought on its requisite chill.

Now I remember why I like cross-country skiing.  Getting outside on the snow.  Relishing the silence of the woods.  Pushing hard to go up and riding back down.  Feeling the skis glide across the snow.  Being the first one out on fresh corduroy.  The brisk air on my face.  The toe warmers glowing in my boots to ward off the cold.  And if I’m lucky, feeling the warmth of the sun shining down.

Granted, conditions aren’t always perfect.  There are those days so cold that my skis forget how to glide.  And my fingers freeze soon after I begin skiing.  At times the trail gets worn down from all the skiers, turning hard and crusty, begging to be regroomed.

Yet desLester Amity Ski Trail signpite any drawbacks, it’s still “our” ski trail.  And I’ll keep going back to ski.  After all, it’s right in our backyard.

Birkie Regrets

Molly Birkie 2012

Finishing in the 2012 Birkie

Birkie Fever.  It’s all around us.  The excitement, anticipation and tension fill the air.  But not in this house.  Last year was the first time we skipped the event since our initial Birkie in 2009.  (Okay, I skied the Korteloppet that year, graduating to the full Birkie the following year.)  But that was different, as we were out in Colorado skiing.  A reasonable trade-off.  This year we’re home.  And living in Duluth and active in the Duluth XC Ski Club, it feels like everyone but us is heading for Hayward.

Uncertain of our winter plans this year, we didn’t sign up for the Birkie.  We thought we might try something different – a new race, or perhaps more travel.  As the winter progressed without snow, it seemed like a prudent decision, and even the races we did enter lost their appeal.  As the Mora Vassaloppet approached, we found it hard to justify driving two hours each way to ski a few kilometers around and around on lake ice.  We skipped that favorite race.  The appeal of winter and skiing was hard to sustain.

On the positive side, I haven’t had to worry about getting in loads of K’s on the trails, building up to the hilly 51k race.  We haven’t had to drive miles and miles chasing snow.  I could bury the anguish over lack of snow by running the lakewalk.  So it certainly has reduced the stress in that department.

But now with the Birkie a day away, I can’t help but wish I too were waxing my skis to perfection and setting out to ski with the thousands of other participants.  I miss the challenge.  I miss being a part of it all.

Registration for the 2016 Birkie is bound to be open soon.  There’s a high likelihood I’ll trade my regrets for next year’s Birkie Fever.

Skiing with Nature

Driving up the Gunflint Trail was like entering a new world. Moving further inland with each passing mile and leaving behind the warming effect of Lake Superior transformed the landscape into a snowy winter scene.  I could forgive the trickiness of driving on a slick icy road for the benefit of the snow accumulations blanketing the woods.

Susan and I were extremely grateful for having chosen to spend our annual XC Ski Weekend together staying at Poplar Creek Guesthouse on the central Gunflint ski trails.  It was the perfect destination for a winter marred by lack of snow.  For three full days we could leave behind the frustrations of barren brown ski trails and revel in the deep soft whiteness of beautifully groomed trails through the woods.

Susan on the Bearskin trailsI might have expected that the lure of good snow would draw crowds from the Cities to ski these trails over the weekend, but it certainly didn’t seem to be the case.  Perhaps because the trail system is so extensive, we rarely saw another skier.  In fact, evidence of wildlife was in far greater abundance.

My favorite time out on the trails was early in the morning.  Getting in at least 10k of fresh air and exercise makes the sumptuous and generous B&B breakfast all the more delicious.  So I ventured out before light to ski through the pre-dawn stillness.  Each morning I was greeted by nearly an inch of new powder on Skis and animal tracksthe well groomed trails.  It was the perfect carpet to record the previous night’s animal activity.  I spotted plenty of bunny prints, watched a fox’s paws follow the ski tracks and wondered about the origins of other divots in the snow.  But the best part was the musical accompaniment.  Hearing something in the distance, I stopped skiing to silence the swish-swish of my skis.  And there it was again.  Howling.  Bark-bark-bark-Oooooooh-bark-bark.  Sometimes multiple Ooooooooohs in the middle.  Over and over again.  The song of the wolf was haunting and beautiful.  And far enough away not to be a threat.

We chose the Banadad Trail for one afternoThe Banadad Trailon’s ski outing.  Having done it before, we knew just what to expect – endless kilometers of narrow, single classic tracks through densely wooded forest with pine branches bending low under their burdens of snowy cover.  Since it is largely flat with few turns and no intersections, it is the perfect opportunity to ski on autopilot and let one’s brain loose while drinking in the peaceful surroundings.  We dubbed it a “contemplative ski.”  It might have been completely serene had it not been for the moose tracks.  Most were made prior to the overnight snowfall, so although they trampled the ski tail, we felt reassured by the fact that the moose were long gone.  Then we found the fresh tracks.  Multiple moose chose to cross and follow the ski trail for a bit before wandering back into the woods.  For all we knew, there were still there staring at us.  But we never saw them.  Susan was greatly relieved, by my camera-toting self was a wee bit disappointed.

Molly on the Banadad TrailLest all this sound too serious, we did have our moments of levity as well.  Remembering our last ski on the Banadad when Susan missed the final turn to reach the Guesthouse, I stood sentinel to make sure it didn’t happen again.  No point in delaying our evening wine and cheese, after all.

 

It was three glorious days of cross-country skiing at its best – soft snow, endless views of an undisturbed natural environment and evidence of furry friends playing on the trails.  There’s nothing better than skiing with Mother Nature.

Glaciers Cycling Tour Stats

I can't help it, I'm a numbers person. Being a math major and spending my career in IT, my natural inclination to analyze things is enhanced by years of training. So in looking back on our Glaciers to the Sea cycling tour, I just have to break it down by the numbers.

First the basics:

  • 1,408 miles cycled
  • 30 total days
  • 27 days cycling

Our cycling tours are focused on enjoying the ride, not racking up the miles each day. We planned to do roughly 50-55 miles a day, and we came pretty close. This allows us to take a mid-morning break for either our first or second breakfast, see sights along the way and finish cycling around 3:30 in the afternoon. We enjoy having some downtime at the end of the day.

  • 52 miles/day for days cycling
  • 47 miles/day including rest days

We aren't very good at taking rest days. The only days we stayed off our bikes on this trip were those spent visiting family and friends, which we intended to serve that dual purpose. Our first rest days were 18 days into the trip when we visited Rich's brother Stewart and his wife Kathy in Eugene for 2 days. Our third was day 28 which we spent with my friend, Anne, in Olympia.

Weather-wise this trip was fantastic. We had day after day of amazingly beautiful weather. Temperatures were nippy in the mornings, but they almost always rose to warm and sometimes downright hot during the day. I loved it!

  • 18 clear sunny days
  • 5 partly cloudy days
  • 4 overcast days
  • 3 rainy days

Wind is a huge factor in cycling. A headwind can take miles off our speed. We knew that we were cycling against the prevailing winds, going west and then north up the coast. But we beat all the odds. It was a cyclist's dream.

  • 28 days with tailwinds or no wind
  • 2 days with headwinds (and we frequently hid from it while climbing the hilly Columbia River Gorge)

One of our goals was to spend less than 50% of our nights in motels. Thanks to the boost from bunking in with family and friends, we exceeded this target for our 30 nights. I'd still like to up the amount of camping we do, but I won't complain about having a few creature comforts.

  • 4 nights camping
  • 5 nights with family and friends
  • 8 nights in Warm Showers homes
  • 13 nights in motels

Our Specialized Touring bikes are trusty steeds indeed. We have had a great track record for avoiding serious breakdowns on all of our trips, and this one was no exception. The only equipment failure that would have been a show stopper happened within range of one of the few large towns we visited.

  • 5 flat tires/new inner tubes (Rich) – roadside repairs, we carry 8
  • 2 tire replacements (Rich) – roadside repairs, we carry 1 and bought another right away
  • 1 wheel/rim tear at the spoke (Rich) – slow ride and cab back to Seattle, bike shop visit required
  • 2 bolts lost from rear pannier rack (Molly) – replaced when discovered, bought extra bolts
  • 1 rear view mirror scratched (Molly) – replaced at a bike shop when convenient

While I don't have hard facts on this one, there is no doubt that lattes outnumbered ice creams on this trip. Little drive-through coffee huts abounded in even the smallest of towns, and good coffee shops were also in abundance. My caffeine needs rarely went unattended. Yet humble ice cream shops were at a premium. In fact, we didn't find a single truly Mom and Pop ice cream stand. We managed to fill in with ice cream offerings in other establishments, but there was truly a deficiency in dairy delights.

Yes, there is only one conclusion. It was a most successful and enjoyable trip. No matter how I slice and dice it, the numerical score for this cycling tour is 100%+.

 

 

The Last Few Miles

At the Finish: 30 days, 1,408 miles

All good things must come to an end. Including our Glaciers to the Sea cycling tour. Interestingly enough, there seems to be a pattern to the final day of our long cycling trips. Last year, we completed the Grand Gaspé Tour with a 9 mile day. This year we topped that with cycling 11 miles to reach the finish line. And we added a bit of a twist to our finale.

After a hilly ride yesterday and a particularly steep incline to reach our host home, we were relieved to coast downhill a short three miles to the waterfront in Bremerton. In that distance, we passed the 1,400 mile mark for our trip! At the water's edge we took time to enjoy the Harborside Fountain Park. It is a unique tribute to the US submarine forces, with fountains that look like the fantail of a submarine. We thought they were cool enough with the water cascading down them, but soon found that they spouted out of the tops as well.

Our real purpose, however, was to take the ferry over to Seattle. Being cyclists afforded us the privilege of boarding first. We quickly headed out to the bow of the boat where we could take in the sights. The initial passageways were narrow and scenic, and it was comfortable outside watching the world slide by. Once we reached the larger bay it became windier and chillier, and we retreated behind windows where it was more comfortable.

Docking in Seattle, we were met by our friends Stephanie and Scott. They arrived on bicycle, and we cycled the final 8 miles of our trip together. It was a pleasure to have someone else to lead the way, and most of it was on bike trails. With no hills.

Arriving at their house meant the end of the trip. It should have felt like a momentous moment. But somehow it was all lost on me. I didn't feel a sense of accomplishment, relief or celebration as I dismounted my bike. It felt like any other time I got off my bike and removed my panniers for the day. We were already deep in conversation with Stephanie and Scott and eager to see their new house. After all, they had been our Warm Showers guests last summer as they cycled their way across the country. So it felt a natural and fitting finish to our ride.

We left the Glaciers a month ago, and made it to the Sea. All our miles are behind us. At least for now.

 

Circling the Sound

I'd never realized before just how extensive and meandering Puget Sound is. It's long and sinewy fingers stretch well inland, creating endless miles of coastline. We enjoyed exploring quite a few of them.

Our first introduction was in Olympia. We had the luxury of a rest day there spent with my good friend, Anne, who shared her favorite outdoor haunts with us. Blessed with sunny calm weather, we happily traded our bikes for walking and enjoying nature.

Exploring the restored delta on the boardwalk at the Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge.

Lunch and a colorful eyeful at the Olympia Farmers' Market

Walking the beach at Priest Point Park

Beautiful wooded trails in Priest Point Park

We were advised that the best bicycle route into Seattle was not the direct one. It took a full day of cycling to circle around to Bremerton, on the western side of the Sound. But it was far more pleasant and less stressful then trying to navigate through a busy metropolitan area. Every time we had a scenic view of water, it turned out to be another bit of the Sound. The sight varied greatly depending on the status of the tide and the nature of the shoreline. It could never be tiresome.

Stopping for a mid-day break on the fishing pier in Allyn

Our Warm Showers hosts in Bremerton had a beautiful home with a wonderful view of Kitsap Lake. Although not part of the Sound, its waters eventually drain there. The unseasonably warm weather provided a fine opportunity to hang out on the deck to enjoy the view, including the Cascade Mountains in the distance.

Lake Kitsap and the Cascade Mountains

A beautiful sunset over the lake

Tomorrow we will complete our circuit of Puget Sound, as well as our trip. Since we didn't do a circle route this time, let's just say we are about to come full cycle.

 

Counting Down

No matter how long the trip, when we get near the end I am reluctant to let go. We have our daily cycling down to a well tuned routine, and it feels good. My body is strong and I love pressing through each day's miles. The simplicity of life on the road appeals to me. And I admit that I enjoy being able to eat the large quantities of food to takes to fuel all that cycling.

Even after coming through a full day of rain, I want to keep going. The cold, wet clammy clothes are already a distant memory, as is the damp smell as we aired out the ziplock bags holding all our belongings in the motel room.

Setting off this morning amidst the remaining puddles, the fog was just lifting and we had no idea that we'd spend the entire day under clear blue skies and sunshine. I'm going to miss those miracles of nature that mean so much in the life of a touring cyclist.

It's time to start savoring the lasts. This is the last night we stay in a motel. Our last Warm Showers hosts. The last of my peanutbutter, as its tube grows thin. The last of the countryside before heading into the greater Seattle area. The last time we wash our clothes in the sink. Okay, so maybe “savor” doesn't apply to them all.

For weeks, I've marveled at all the little drive-up espresso booths we see everywhere, even in the smallest of towns. I've been itching to ride through one on my bike. With time dwindling, I took the opportunity today. “A medium skim latte, please.” An excellent morning caffeine fix.

I said goodbye to the coast today. How I've enjoyed it's views, it's waves, it's rocky coastline and beaches. I love cycling along water. It must come from growing up on Lake Superior. Turning inland was a clear sign of reaching the end.

Progress to date: 26 days, 1,293 miles

We have almost 1,300 miles behind us, and just two full days of cycling left to go. It's no coincidence that this evening's dinner conversation focused on ideas and options for our next big cycling trip. It's easier to let go knowing there are more destinations in store for us. Just barely. It's better than focusing on the countdown.

 

 

It’s all about the People

The bistro was bustling and crowded. It was peak Sunday breakfast time, and we vied for a table with the locals in Astoria after cycling our first 18 miles for the day. Glancing out the door, I noticed another cycling couple locking their bikes out front. It didn't take long before we were making introductions and comparing cycling notes. Nabbing an outdoor table that had just come free, we invited our new friends to join us. Thus started our most enjoyable meal yet.

We instantly connected with Sue and Ron, who were traveling down the West Coast. Like us, they've been on the road for about three weeks, but they have a lot farther to go than we do. Advice, ideas, recommendations and observations flew in rapid succession across the breakfast table. It was so easy to relate to their experiences, and a treat to talk to folks who knew what we were doing and “got it.” I know my French toast with boysenberries was ample and delicious, but hardly remember downing every morsel. We lingered long, enjoying the beautiful morning and especially each other's company. Parting with contact information, we left savoring our fun morning.

Mom was to be our next social encounter. The Astoria Bridge is renowned among cyclists for its height, steepness, winds, heavy traffic and lack of shoulders. While many discount it's dangers, we'd read enough warnings on Crazy Guy on a Bike to make us wary. I for one flatly refused to even consider cycling over it. That's where Mom came in. Rich had the brilliant idea of using a cab to take us over the bridge. Sure enough, Mom's Taxi Service was more than happy to ferry us and our bikes across the bridge. It was Mom herself who drove the minivan cab, and was very pleasant. She had, in fact, just bought a tandem bike to ride with her husband. Best $22 we spent on the whole trip.

Our mileage was only 37 miles for the day, allowing us to get to Cape Disappointment State Park by early afternoon. With rain predicted overnight, it didn't take much to forgo our tent for another yurt. Quickly stashing our gear, we headed right for the beach. It wasn't far from our campsite, and we were pleased to discover that it also afforded us a great view of North Head Lighthouse. That saved me a hike up to see it, and left the remainder of the afternoon free to spend on the beach, even after Rich retreated to the yurt.

It wasn't long before I removed my sandals and headed for the far end of the beach. The sand was silky smooth, and the incoming tide lapped at my feet as I walked. The wind was brisk on my face, but the sun beat down with unmistakable warmth. I couldn't help but remember another walk on the beach almost exactly a year ago. We were on our Gaspé cycling trip, and our hosts for the night took us to the ocean beach park near their home in New Brunswick, Canada. It was on the opposite coast, yet a similar delightfully warm fall day spent with new found cycling friends. Once again, it all comes back to the people.