As of Sunday, rumors of summer in the Northwest were greatly exaggerated.
Based on recent ride reports that included scary accounts of dehydration and heat exhaustion, I showed up to Sunday’s Goose Bump outing with a full hydration pack and worried that I had forgotten a sleeveless jersey at home. While I was prepared for heat, I broke the cardinal rule of adventure in the Cascades: Assume hypothermia can happen at any time, including July. Arm warmers saved the day.
After a commute to the starting point along Hwy 410, we were off and climbing. Although this was a Cascade Bicycle Club group ride, 20+ miles of uphill tends to turn things “mano a mano,” as Paul Sherwen would say. Most of the day was spent alone in the mist and fog.
I’m at the tail end of an interval-based training program for the upcoming Race Across Oregon, and planned on about 4 hours in the saddle with 2 20-minute intervals at lactate threshold. I figured one interval per climb.
To the untrained eye, Cayuse Pass may look more like an intersection than a mountain pass, especially when visibility is limited. Instead of continuing upwards toward Chinook some cyclists, whether officially or unofficially in our group, headed downhill towards Ohanapecosh. The return trip made for good RAMROD practice, no doubt.
The first climb past Cayuse Pass to Chinook Pass went splendidly. After a few warm up miles, I pushed hard for 20 minutes, then returned to cruising speed for the rest of the climb.
The Chinook descent was thrilling: Poor visibility, wet pavement, gravel, and RVs piloted by impatient drivers in hot pursuit.
The cycling menagerie at Sunrise included Randonneurs, a number of unaffiliated riders, and a neat stack of expensive hardware.
One climb down, one 12+ mile climb to go. At the White River entrance station, I found Tom Mage shivering and deliberating whether to continue to Sunrise. He eventually made the correct decision and returned to a warm car and took a nap.
I had trouble on the second climb. I felt good for the first 4+ miles, but my legs cramped, and despite trying to pedal through the cramps, my legs remained stiff and uncontrollably twitchy for the rest of the day.
Goose Bumps on a log, literally.
Leg cramps have been a recurrent problem for me this season. I had them once during a difficult ride last season, and four times now this year. I’ve been stretching more than usual, and dosing with an abundance of electrolytes. Although there are plenty of opinions about how to deal with cramps, the literature does not seem to have any conclusive recommendations about how to treat them beyond what I’ve been doing. Frustrating to say the least, and paranoia-inducing given that the Race Across Oregon is only about 10 days away.
Gosling Pete caught me about 1/2 way up the Sunrise climb, and ride leader David Roberts caught me in the last few miles pushing hard and gasping “wheel!” (as in “grab my wheel and let’s ride together.”) I rode with David for about a minute, but my unresponsive legs wouldn’t let me hang on.
On a clear day, the view of The Mountain from Sunrise is breathtaking. Sunday’s view was limited to fog-filtered daylight (note that daylight does not qualify as sunlight). In the Northwest, this is considered perfect tanning weather.
I got lucky on the Sunrise descent and didn’t encounter automobiles until Hwy 410. This was my first time cycling on any of these roads, though have heard numerous post-RAMROD horror stories about the headwinds on Hwy 410. From the cyclist’s perspective, Hwy 410 looks flat but in reality trends downhill. Despite the headwinds, gravity is in the cyclist’s favor on this stretch, and even handicapped with twitchy, crampy legs I maintained a 27+ mph pace on the homestretch.
