Bon Jon Pedal Bender 2021

As the day of the Bon Jon Pedal Bender gravel race approached Adam and I were not concerned about the distance. Eighty miles of gravel was well within our wheelhouse. The elevation gain of 8700 feet was more than nothing but not outside our comfort zone. Our main concern was the weather.

The Pacific Northwest was forecast for record setting heat and the Bon Jon Pedal Bender was scheduled for day one of the three day scorcher. Race strategy discussions were replaced with heat mitigation discussions. We rummaged our closets for our lightest kits. We added additional bottle holders to our bikes. We lowered our finish position ambitions.

Neither of us knew what to expect from the terrain over and around Bon Jon Pass. The elevation profile showed us that the first third of the route captured two thirds of the climbing. It also showed a tough climb at mile fifty. We opted for the long route which featured outer and inner loops that took us up and over the pass twice. The twice around format also made it easy for riders to opt out of the second ascent effectively letting them ride the medium length course.

Race day arrived with a finalized forecast of 98 degrees Fahrenheit for Quilcene. I hoped the shade and elevation of the forest might temper that number. My estimation was that we would see ambient air temperature on the course of 70 to 90 degrees for all but the final few miles.

We settled on a race plan that was fairly fluid. We hoped to start in an early wave. We wanted to put in some work early to get the bulk of the climbing behind us before the sun began to work us over. We needed to remain objective about the heat's affect in real time as the day progressed. We committed to safety over race results.
 
We crossed the start line at 8 a.m. sharp in the first wave of starters. This group of ambitious racers quickly found itself climbing in earnest. Within twenty minutes Adam and I let the leaders go up the road and found a more moderate pace. This part of the day went well. The roads were friendly. The promoter described sections of the course as 'rustic pavement' and that description was spot on. The majority of the gravel portions remained smooth. The air of the forest remained amenable.

At the 45 minute mark we were caught by a group of strong and steady riders that started one or two minutes behind us. We matched their pace and let them pull us across the short flats that punctuated the longer climbing pitches.

As we climbed we remained vigilant about hydration. All three of my water bottles were filled with Tailwind Nutrition Endurance Blend. Adam carried a similar load. We targeted a minimum consumption of one bottle per hour and repeatedly reminded each other to drink on schedule. After an hour of climbing the race appeared to be going as well as could be expected. Our spirits remained upbeat.

The first climb was long but manageable. The heat had not yet hit us. Adam was riding strong. Photo by Jesse Major.

Adam was feeling well and took a turn at the front across one of these flats. Foolishly I did as well. And that short effort became my undoing.

Within ten minutes of my turn at the front I needed to let our small group slip up the road. Adam followed my instruction to 'Go' with the group. I was forced to accept that I couldn't climb as well as I had just a few weeks ago.

I was working a bit harder than Adam when I came upon the photographer. But I was still happy to be racing my bike in the woods. Photo by Jesse Major.

I soloed for the next 30 minutes. I crested the first summit at mile eighteen. The road pitched down for five miles before pitching back up. Just a mile later I reached the first aid station where I was able to connect with Adam and our small group.

Adam and I are no strangers to fast aid station stops. A Payday candy bar was stashed in my pocket as I filled my two empty bottles. The group was not yet ready to go. The door to the portable bathroom was open. I took a preemptive visit only to find there was no need. This was a stark contrast from from my normal cycling urination schedule. A mental note was made that a bottle an hour might not be adequate as the day progressed.

One more mile of climbing laid ahead and I worked hard to stay with Adam. We crested Jon Bon Pass together. The road was twisty, potholed, and our group strung out a bit. At mile twenty seven the course turned off the more traveled gravel road and onto a narrow two track trail. The grade was slightly down, the trees crowded the trail providing shade, and the twists kept it interesting.

The two track trail was an excellent opportunity for me to make good on the time I lost on the climb. The trail weaved through the trees and I thoroughly enjoyed sweeping side to side as the trail wound its way around rocks, trees, and occasional puddles.

When the route re-emerged onto a more traveled road I expected Adam to catch me right away. As I kept an eye behind I found myself near a Silverdale Autoworks rider. We descended together and had time to chat a bit when we reached the flatter and paved Palo Alto road. This rider had ridden many of these roads as had his teammates. Shortly there after we caught one of his many teammates and a strong rider joined from behind to make a group of four. The riders from Silverdale Autoworks demonstrated their familiarity with the road and we took the descending portions at pace.

Mile 44 brought the second of four aid stations and the return to more rolling terrain. It also provided the thirty seconds necessary for Adam to bring us back together. We filled our bottles, I grabbed a bag of salty potato chips, and we remounted. With us was Andrew.

Adam and Andrew had joined forces before the aid station. Andrew was at least as strong as us and we welcomed his help on the flats.

The three of us pedaled towards our impending doom. I devoured my Ruffles brand chips. I was craving the salt. Adam was amused as they tickled my throat and I coughed half of them back up.

Adam and I shared with Andrew our final climb strategy. We had full bottles and were sipping constantly. We would climb at sustainable effort levels. We then took thirty seconds to remove and stow jerseys for maximum cooling. At mile fifty we reached Lord's Lake and the right hand turn towards Bon Jon Pass.

The turn at Lord's Lake onto Little Quilcene Road also marked a crossroads in course layout. Medium course riders skipped Little Quilcene Road and started their final five miles of pavement to the finish. Long course riders turned right to start the thirty mile inner loop.

As the three of us lamented the twenty foot chain link fence that separated us from the blue and inviting waters of the Lord's Lake reservoir the climbing began. Just five and one half miles separated us from the top of Bon Jon Pass. Unfortunately that distance also included the additional barrier of  2000 feet of climbing.

Soon enough each of us was fighting our thermal limit. There was no chatting. The dust from descending short course riders stuck to my perspiration covered skin. The road offered too little shade.

After just a mile Adam hailed me that he needed to slow. I stopped and we discussed his condition. He was being cautious and wanted me to go ahead at my own pace. We both knew cooling salvation could be found by reversing course and descending towards Lords Lake.

I dropped my pace a bit even as I climbed away from Adam. Andrew and I yoyoed back and forth as we climbed towards the aid station. I frequently dismounted and walked never letting myself come to a complete stand still. Andrew attacked the climb differently. He pedaled from shade to shade stopping at some for a moment of rest.

During one of my walks I told Andrew not to wait. I told Andrew I was a mess and not likely to go any faster. I told him, however, I would not give up. I did not give up. But I wanted to.

The aid station at mile 54 brought a momentary distraction from the heat. I wasted no time. I filled all three bottles, chose another salty snack, and told Andrew I would soft pedal up the road. Andrew was in no hurry and instructed me not to wait. One final look down the road did not reveal Adam.

Later I learned of Adam's experience climbing to the third aid station. The heat was having a profound affect. My earlier estimation of 70 to 90 degree ambient air was way off. Adam's Garmin saw 100 degrees F. He stopped to rest and cool. He considered turning around. Eventually he soldiered his way up to the aid station but chose to go no further. With four fifths of the climb behind him he made the safe call. He turned and descended.

My final mile of climbing hurt but seemed to go by quickly. I took in the relief when the gradient temporarily slackened. I choked on my chips again but did so without an audience. I found the top of Bon Jon Pass which marked the end of the serious climbing. The entire climb from Lord's Lake to Bon Jon Pass cost me three bottles of water and almost exactly one hour of time and provided much more misery than I had budgeted for.

The inner loop re-used a portion of the outer loop including the narrow two track. With re-found vigor I attacked this section. Instead of avoiding the puddles I found excuses to buzz them encouraging the spray from my front wheel to provide additional cooling. Near the end of this section I caught and passed a Silverdale Autoworks rider.

At mile 61 the course turned right. The remainder of the course was flat or down hill and remained on the straighter and more open roads. I hoped to find another rider to share the pacemaking. I slowed and looked over my shoulder. The Silverdale Autoworks rider filled my near field of vision and Andrew filled my far. I was caught by the Silverdale Autoworks rider. Andrew fell just short of connecting when the descending started.

The rider from Silverdale Autoworks knew this dirt road well and descended it perfectly. Only by keying off him was I able to match his pace. After five miles of gravel descending we reached a flat section. I had high praise for his descending skills and he had high praise that I kept up. He told me most people don't. I felt my chest puff just a little after his compliment.

A strong rider joined us from behind and the pace picked up. I took only a single pull over the next ten miles.

With five miles of descending left to go the road turned to pavement and I was dropped. The stronger rider powered away. The Silverdale Autoworks rider gave chase. He was as adapt descending pavement as gravel and gapped me at the first corner. I kept them in sight but lacked the strength to close the distance. The finish came none to soon and I was relieved to be off the bike.

Over the next thirty minutes my body and mind returned to normal. A water source was found to rinse away the sweat, salt, dust, and for a few minutes at least, the heat. A cold beer and lukewarm bratwurst rekindled my soul. Fresh clothes did wonders for my spirits.

On the day of the event we spoke little about our position in the race. Not until well after I finished did I learn that I scored 6th in 5h:56m:34s. I also learned I was within striking distance of both 4th and 5th positions who were just two minutes faster. The winner of my group, men's masters, finished about twenty-seven minutes faster than me.

My finish position sounded pretty good until I dug farther into the results. Only eleven of the twenty-eight riders registered in my class finished. I was unable to determine if the non finishers chose not to start or chose to ride a shorter course or abandoned all together. Either way the oppressing heat pushed down the number of long course finishers.

Adam and I reached some conclusions about our day during the drive home. Our legs did not limit our performance as much as the heat. The Quilcene area gravel roads were often lovely smooth right until they became potholed from ditch to ditch. We had no regrets about giving up a few minutes here and there to ensure we avoided heat stroke. We were relieved to be done with hottest and least enjoyable day of cycling in memory.

On the ride home I sent a simple text to my wife's inquiry about the race. She asked 'how did it go?'. My answer was crafted quickly and on the fly yet I cannot improve on the sentiment. Short and to the point I sent back 'pretty miserable'.

Skate Creek Loop with the Cyclopaths

On Saturday last we rode what is a bread and butter route on the Puyallup Cyclopaths calender. Skate Creek Loop. It had all the ingredients of a typical Cyclopath ride. Multiple climbs. Views. Lots of time and space to chat with friends. For these reasons this route has become a favorite among the regulars.

The route is pretty basic. Start somewhere near Ashford. Climb to Paradise. Backtrack a bit to find Stevens Canyon road to Ohanapacosh. Turn right and work down to Packwood. Then the follow the route's namesake, Skate Creek Road, back to the start. Simple. Perfect.

Mike was caught with a look of surprise as we prepared to a 7 a.m. start.

Just seven Cyclopaths were present at the start. Dwaine, Les, Martin, Mike, Rob, and two Scotts. There was a rumor in the wind that Adam might already be up the road completing an early ascent to Paradise.

The ride started easy. My pace stayed zone two or easier. I was feeling the joy of riding for fun without the pressure of racing the clock. The air was cool but not uncomfortably so. The traffic was light enough to encourage side by side riding and lots of chit chat. We had a Ford F350 sighting that led us to believe Adam was already up the road making his first attack on Paradise . While we pedaled easy Adam was way up the road working hard. We later learned he set a PR on the climb to Paradise.

Martin posed for the camera at Longmire.

Scott also posed for my camera at Longmire.

While we took a quick stop at Longmire Adam appeared from above. Adam appeared cold. Adam was cold. He was wearing every stitch of clothing and reported that the descent was as chilly as he could tolerate. Fortunately for us the the air was warming and the roads were drying. When we restarted our climb Adam joined us which grew our group to eight.

Adam hides his face (from the cold) behind the Cyclopath colors.

 
We still had plenty of miles to pedal to get to Paradise. During this period I reflected internally on the joy of riding with the Cyclopaths. Outdoor group rides are mostly back to normal and I was enjoying the social aspects of the day.

Climbing between the bridge over the Nisqually River and the Ricksacker Point viewpoint.

 

Les and Scott setting pace.

We took the Ricksacker Point lookout detour. The roads were still damp at this time of the day and the top of Mount Rainier remained shrouded in clouds.

Not long after Ricksacker Point Road the pace picked up a little. Adam and I gravitated towards the front. Most in the group were saving their matches as it was a long day with multiple climbs.

We made a quick turnaround at Paradise. Adam informed us he was done as he had a late morning commitment. Scott J. informed us his legs were beginning to send some signals. Signals that didn't give him enough confidence to continue on our 80 mile route. Scott had worked pretty hard to hang with the group and probably made a wise decision. As we waved goodbye Scott was enjoying the fruits of his labor by taking in the views and snapping photos.

I took note that one lost rider, Scott, probably had little clue how hard the Cyclopaths have pushed on the last climb up Skate Creek Road. The other lost rider, Adam, was certainly the strongest rider on the day and most capable of setting a hot pace when it fancied him. Their departures meant the six remaining riders were more evenly matched.

I stood deep in a snow filled ditch to shoot from a low perspective as Martin sped past.

We descended towards Reflection Lake but stopped only briefly. The sun was peaking through more often and the air warmed as we wound our way down Steven's Canyon. The top half of the descent was beautiful and I took the opportunity to catch a couple frames of descending riders. At the midway point the the road turned rough as is typical for this secter. One bit was reduced to one lane and controlled with a stop light. We saw only green and continued our descent without slowing.

My camera caught Scott descending the first switchback on Steven's Canyon.

Martin followed close behind.

I pedaled at zone two intensity once the descent tapered away at Box Canyon. Mike was with me and we were greeted by more sunshine and warmth as we crested Backbone Ridge. The day was too beautiful to ignore. The group chose to snap photos and chat and linger for many extra minutes as we took in the views and sunshine.

Mike and I both waited to capture the remaining riders as they summited. Mike and I both snapped shots of the other photographer.

My Ibis Hakka MX framed this trio of riders as they crested Backbone Ridge.

Mike is our leader. Mike organizes the rides. Mike communicates to the group. Mike helps us out in whatever way we need. Including jammed zippers.

When I sensed the group was nearly ready I scooted off early as I needed water at Ohanapacosh. After filling my bottles I stood near the road and was approached by a stranger. We struck up a conversation that lasted many minutes. I learned he was from Saint Petersburg Florida, was two months into a solo road trip, and was visiting as many National Parks as he could. I suspected he was happy to find someone to chat with. I was more than happy to oblige.

After we were back on the road I thought to myself what a pleasant random encounter. My cycling path just happened to cross his vacationing path and we were able to share a story or two. This reinforced my joy that the day was about riding for fun and not racing for time.

As we descended Highway 123 the group formed into a pace line but we kept the pace easy. I knew the pace would change at Highway 12. It had every year before.

I chose to peel off a layer as we transitioned off Highway 123 and a gap opened in the process. The group was immediately pulling down the hill and I had to put some extra pressure into the pedals to re-attach.

The six of us were well matched and the pace line rotation was smooth. The shoulder of Highway 12 was not. Our pace line formation was solid and I made a few efforts to capture this Skate Creek Loop tradition with my camera.

Cyclopath pace line coming at you.

Cyclopath pace line going away.

At Packwood we turned off Highway 12. This was the final milestone of the route and marked another transition. We changed from descending to climbing. The temperature went up. I expected the pace would warm up as well.

We refueled and unlayered at the Packwood Shell station. I felt warm enough to go with a short sleeved jersey without arm warmers. I also felt gratitude that I had brought a handlebar bag big enough to hold my now surplus warm layers.

As we re-entered the roadway thoughts of previous rides up Skate Creek Road flooded my consciousness. The suffer of this climb after 60 miles up and down Mount Rainier has etched a permanent place in my mind. Those memories always included a scene where I was working at my limit and a colorful Cyclopath jersey slipped up the road.

I was hopeful this year would be different. With Adam out of the group I liked my chances of holding the leader's wheel.

As usual, we rode easy for the two miles that led into the climb. As we rounded the corner where the gradient begins to creep up Rob was slightly off the front. I picked up my pace and passed Mike and Les. Neither responded. Les voiced his disinterest in my pace. Just seconds later Rob let me go by in a way that communicated my situation clearly. If I wanted to push the pace up Skate Creek I would be pushing it alone.

The climbing section out of Packwood is about 10 miles in length and about 1000 feet of vertical gain. It is never steep. I never let it be easy. With no friends around I owned the struggle against the light headwind. I kept my head down physically and metaphorically.

As pacemaker I chose a time trial strategy. More effort was given when it was steeper. Rest was taken when it wasn't.

The road follows the turns of Skate Creek. I discovered a pattern that I could use to gauge my next level of effort. When the river and road bent to the right the gradient went up. When they bent to the left the gradient tapered. For 25 minutes I concentrated on timing my above threshold efforts on right hand bends and anticipating my sub threshold rests on left hand bends.

At about two thirds distance this pattern no longer held. My mental calculator was working slow and my pacing suffered. All of me suffered. I was riding Skate Creek Road properly.

Every check over my shoulder remained clear of approaching riders. I counted down the minutes. Around every corner I wished mile marker '11', where the climbing ends, would be revealed.

After about 40 minutes I had earned a Strava PR and tired legs.

I turned around to regroup and found that Les and Mike were not far behind. I thought I would tuck in behind to join their conversation but quickly discovered they were climbing with vigor. When the climbing ended we took a few moments of recovery before we got back to work. We took turns pulling with the heaviest rider, me, going to the front when the road angle tipped down. The final eleven miles back to the start area went by quickly.

My reward for the work on the front of the group was a change into street clothes and an early start on my recovery food. The remaining riders trickled in over the next ten minutes. Mike, Les, and myself congratulated ourselves on a near perfect iteration of the Skate Creek Loop route. We also gave thanks for our good window of weather.

The Skate Creek Loop route is my favorite. It ticks all the boxes. The spectacular climb to Paradise. The group photo perfection of Reflection Lake. A riveting descent down Steven's Canyon. A perfect picnic stop at Backbone Ridge. The beauty of Ohanapacosh. A fast highway that motivates strong teamwork. And a final climb where each Cyclopath is offered the option to dial up or dial down the suffer-meter.

Leavenworth Gran Fondo 2021 Race Recap

The Swakane Canyon Road gravel climb defines the Leavenworth Gran Fondo route. The climb is long, technical, sometimes steep, and usually hot. There is no Leavenworth Gran Fondo tale where Swakane Canyon is not part of the plot and this race recap is no exception.

As race day approached Adam and I were comfortable and confident we knew what we were getting into. We raced the Leavenworth Gran Fondo a couple years ago and knew what the course offered. We had seen the 80 miles and 7300 feet of climbing. We knew the 50/50 balance between pavement and gravel. We knew that the course featured two solid gravel climbs and descents with a ten mile pavement separator. We knew Swakane Canyon would be waiting to thrash us.

A few days before the race I developed some worry. My gravel tires were loosing air at an unacceptable rate. Earlier this year I consulted our sponsor Joey at Cascadia Wheel Company to help me put together a wheelset optimised for gravel racing. This new wheelset and new Maxxix Rambler tires were used to good effect at the Cascade Gravel Grinder. After the event I noticed excess air loss through the sidewalls. My efforts to seal the sidewalls were repeatedly thwarted. Not until the day before we were scheduled to leave was this air loss attenuated. I had low confidence the problem would stay solved.

On the drive towards Leavenworth Adam and I discussed strategy. The elevation profile makes one aspect of strategy simple. We had two long dirt climbs between us and the finish. We knew these climbs required our best pace regardless of any surges by other riders. Not unlike the Bend event, I asked Adam to be our pacemaker and he agreed.

The paved sections also provided some tactical opportunities. The most obvious was the flat ten mile section heading South from Entiat on highway 97A. This section lies just after the midpoint of the course and is set up perfectly for pacelining. Finding other riders to work with on this section pays huge dividends and we planned our midrace tactics to leverage any opportunities to find friends and share the workload.

Less obvious and more interesting was the final twelve miles of pavement into the finish. A recent discussion among our Fell Swoop friends led to a tactical conversation of our own. Adam and I race as a team with the goal of getting one of us as near first as possible. Drafting would play a large role in those last twelve miles. We wondered how we would choose who to work with. We theorized where on the course we might re-prioritize to maximize our team's finish position. Making these tactical questions even more complicated was the fact we might be finishing among riders who started in different waves. The scenarios we imagined kept this discussion alive for many of the miles between home and our lodging at the Wenatchee Super 8. We guessed we might be making some decisions from the saddle and in the moment. We were right.

 

Adam's Norco Search in the spotlight at the Super 8. Adam chose Vittoria Torreno Dry tires and they gave him no heartache.

In addition to tire preparation I was also concerned with hydration. It is no secret that every second on the course counts. It is no secret that I usually stop to water a tree a little more often than is ideal. For Leavenworth I altered one aspect of my breakfast menu and then planned to measure the number of minutes till my first de-water stop.

Adam's only change for Leavenworth was the bike. In place of his Hakka MX gravel bike he brought his Norco Search XR gravel bike. This bike is well tested and thoroughly capable. I've never seen the Norco, or any other bike, hold him back. His choice was a simple matter of gearing. The ratios on the Norco Search were a better match for Swakane Canyon.

Sunday morning pre race rituals were completed without issue save one. The Super 8 coffee did not live up to it's name. In the plus column I counted the additional twelve hours that my tires retained their pressure. This allowed me a skosh more confidence in my Maxxis Ramblers holding their air to the finish.

Adam was caught in his puffy coat puffing up the tires on his Norco Search XR. In the background, just over Adam's shoulder, waited the hills and mountains that would be climbed just an hour or two later.

In a non Covid year Jake from Vicious Cycle would provide a neutral roll out for the first six miles. This gets the group, usually about 200 riders, safely through a couple traffic interchanges. This year, with many start waves, there was no neutral roll out. At 8 a.m. we started with our wave and let the other 24 other riders choose a pace. Adam and I did almost no work at the front.

At mile six we turned onto Eagle Creek road. At mile eight a single rider shot up the road and the peloton quickened a bit. At mile eleven a group of four surged to create a chase group and we went with them.  At mile twelve we turned left off the pavement and onto forest road NF-7520. This is where the climbing begins in earnest and the pace remained high.

My concern for tire sidewall air loss transformed to concern for my personal air loss. My respiration rate was high. Much higher than expected. I was making the power and also making some noise. Making enough noise that Adam had taken notice. He confirmed that we were climbing at a hot pace to hold the group of four.

Adam has earned my trust on pacemaking and Sunday was no different. I shared how close I was to blowing up. He weighed tactical needs and climb duration against power meter readings and rider feedback. But Adam's job changed. His power meter blinked off early in the ride. His task became more difficult and he never missed a beat. I remained oblivious to the power meter failure until our post race debrief.

Half way up the first climb Adam chose to moderate our pace. The group of four slowly moved up the road. We were holding sixth and seventh position in our start wave. This was the final time we knew our position against our start wave competitors. My respiration rate remained high. I was at my limit but still maintained the pace. Strava confirmed that we both set new personal best times for the climb.

At the summit we coalesced with an unknown rider in an Audi Cycling Team kit. We did not exchange words but he rode with purpose and confidence and we let him lead us for one mile before slipping past.

We descended without hesitation picking off riders as we went. We ignored the first water only aid station. Not long after we reached the pavement we were joined by two additional riders. We were happy to share the work down Entiat River road and towards the aid station in Entiat.

After a few seasons of practice we have learned to minimize wasted time off the bike. I made my first Johnny-on-the-spot stop of the day. We filled our bottles but needed no additional nutrition. No one matched our time and we soft pedaled away passing a number of riders in the process.

Once onto Highway 97A we repeatedly looked over our shoulders for additional help but none came. We traded turns into the headwind catching one rider. This rider kindly took turns on the front but appeared to be about done. When we turned right to start the Swakane Canyon climb he slowed, smiled, and waved goodbye as we rode away.

The Swakane Canyon climb started at an easy pace. We took guesses on how many riders from our start group we might have passed. We discussed our strategy going forward. Then Adam got back to pacemaking.

I felt more fatigue in my legs than I expected. Fortunately the cloud cover moderated the temperatures. It was still hotter in Swakane Canyon than any other part of the course. The mild tail wind minimized evaporative cooling. I was nearing the low point of my day.

My respiration rate was at redline. My legs were aching. I knew it was time to counsel Adam. With as much persuasion and tact as I could muster I reminded him that the team's goal was to maximize one rider's finish position. I shared that he looked to be that rider. We agreed that if I fell off the pace he would not slow for me.

At about one third of the way into the climb we chose to walk a steep and rocky section. This cost a few seconds but also let our walking muscles take over for our pedaling muscles. This was also a perfect time to make water. I was absolutely wrecked. My back hurt. My legs ached. I could not nicely aim my body one way while preventing my Hakka MX from rolling the other. Instead I oriented my front side down the hill. When the stream started so did the sobbing. My body was releasing both fluid and stress. The sobbing ended before the watering. I looked up to see that same Audi kitted rider come around the corner. I lacked the energy to blush.

In total four riders from later waves passed me on Swakane Canyon. I also let Adam slip away. Just three riders passed Adam. He was able to hang with the Audi kitted rider. They spoke just enough for Adam to learn that he had attended an event we knew well. The 2019 Cyclocross Nationals at Fort Steilacoom Park.

When it was clear I would not climb back to Adam I took stock of my situation. My pace had stabilized. I was nearing the final aid station. I was good on food. I needed just one bottle of water. It seemed possible to claw back some time on the descent.

My aid station stop was just ten seconds. A volunteer filled my bottle and snapped it into my bottle holder while I consumed a packet of Gu energy gel.

The final two miles of the Swakane Canyon climb did not treat me well. The grades changed abruptly and included some of the steepest pitches. One of those pitches pushed my right hamstring into a cramp which I nursed for the remainder of the climb.

The condition of the gravel descending towards the pavement had deteriorated since my last visit. I worked my way down in as safe and speedy a fashion as I could.

Adam was doing the same just a minute or two ahead of me. Unfortunately his tool bag released its velcro attachments costing him precious seconds as he stopped to retrieve it.

As I reached the pavement my wish was granted. I caught two riders. One was in yellow. The second rider wore red. Audi red. I had caught the 'Nationals' Audi rider who most assuredly remembered me from my exposure on Swakane Canyon road. I pulled alongside and asked about a third rider who was up the road far enough to be nearly undiscernible. 'Nationals' answered that the third rider wore my kit. We had Adam in sight.

The scenarios Adam and I had discussed on the previous day's drive flooded back into my head. Adam was in position to be our team's best finisher. It was on me to solidify his finish position. Bringing two helpers and myself up to him could lighten his work load to the finish and lower his overall time. But bringing a strong sprinter up could cost him a position.

It was my turn to make some tactical decisions from the saddle. I made conversation. Short conversation. I polled both riders to find one started at 7:45 a.m. and the other started at 8:05 a.m. One was almost five minutes ahead of Adam on elapsed time and one was fifteen minutes behind. Adam's finish position against this group was immutable. It was in all four riders' best interests to work together.

I jumped to the front, pulled back half the distance to show my intentions, and let the other two riders finish the catch. Now, as group of four, we each knew what needed to be done. We alternated work at the front with 'Nationals' taking the longest pulls.

My legs were nearly toast but my weight down Eagle Creek worked to my advantage. Four miles from the finish we had a short climb and both of my legs cramped simultaneously. I fell out of the group while Adam stayed in the trio to the line. He finished 23rd overall out of 244 and first in our start wave with an elapsed time of 5h:14m:40s.

I nursed my legs from the saddle and quickly discovered I could still push with my right and pull with my left. I found a kind soul from an earlier wave who let me sit on his wheel. Near the finish I pulled up long enough to say 'thanks' for the pull and assure him I could not and would not sprint. I coasted over the line 40 seconds after Adam to be 24th overall and second in our start wave.

I never spoke to the Audi kitted rider who attended Nationals. But Adam did. Only later did I learn his name: Randy Manion. Randy finished in 17th overall almost exactly five minutes ahead of Adam. He gained those five minutes between the start line and the summit of the first climb. Randy earned a 'well done' from us. I also owe him an apology about that awkward scene I created on Swakane Canyon Road.

My hydration experiment was a success. Two stops over five hours was acceptable.

Dwaine's Ibis Hakka MX earned some rest after the Leavenworth Gran Fondo. This bike has been a great fit for me and I am not alone. We saw many other Hakkas in the parking lot and on the course. The Maxxis Rambler tires, despite giving me some worry, did their part and held their sealant.

Adam had his best race day of the year. He was solid. He claimed he was at his limit but never appeared to be struggling. Adding one more velcro strap to his tool bag and five more riders to our Highway 97A paceline would have shaved many minutes off his finish time.

Our race results were a mixed bag. We were strong in our start group but well beaten by riders from other waves. Strava shows Adam finishing about one minute slower than my time in 2019. We both set new personal bests for both climbs indicating we put down the power where it mattered most. Strava also showed that the ten mile section along Highway 97A was my slowest ever with an average less than 19 m.p.h. compared to the 22 m.p.h. of year's past.

Our performance as a team was near perfect. Adam has learned exactly when and where to give me encouragement. I have learned how to give feedback he can act on. Adam's ability to read a race prevents us from making strategic or tactical errors. My upgraded training protocol has nearly closed the gap in our pedaling abilities.

Gran Fondo Leavenworth was the final gravel race on our books for 2021 and it turned into a spectacular way to put a lid on our season. We continued to apply what we've learned over the last few seasons. We continued to find more marginal gains. We continued our path towards figuring out how to get one of us as high on the finish board as possible. And we loved every minute. Except a few of those minutes on Swakane.

Cyclopath Port Orchard Loop Recap

Every year Les and I lead the Cyclopaths on an over-the-bridge route. It's a challenge. The route differs a bit each year. Few of the Cyclopaths know the area well. There are lots of turns and few natural regrouping points. We are getting better and this year might have been our best work so far. 

Before sharing my photos I need to say 'thanks' to my co-leader Les for his work on this ride. Yes, I bring my big voice to communicate with the group. But Les is the true originator of this route and ride. 

A second 'thank you' goes out to our deputized-on-the-fly junior co-leader Adam. Having a third hand who can cover any break went a long ways in keeping us orderly and unlost.

Adam brought them across the Narrows Bridge in tidy order. In the process he created a pretty picture for the photographer and a chance for all the motorists crossing the bridge to appreciated our fine paceline.

 

 

 

Adam led the group into the descent to Al's Market. By this point in the ride he had been deputized and given difficult duties like 'cover any aggressive surges up Dana Drive' and 'Don't let Rob get off the front alone'.

 

Upon our arrival at Al's Market we found this surprise. It has been renamed Olalla Bay Market and was set reopen any day. Al's has been a regular stopping point for many Gig Harbor area rides. What hasn't changed is it's location at the base of a truly leg snapping climb.

As the group turned onto Sedgewick Road I realized how well the day was going. The weather was perfect. The traffic light. It seemed a nice time to grab a rolling group photo. I sprinted ahead, jumped off my bike, pointed the camera, and caught the group as they rolled towards the Southworth Ferry Landing.

Mike is our other photographer and primary organizer. This photo is my homage to the work he does to schedule Cyclopath rides and the work he does behind the viewfinder to document the fun.

At the Manchester boat launch we noticed this wreck. While we gazed at the scene emergency responders arrived only to find no humans in danger. Each of us shared a scenario that explained the situation. My take was that this boat freed itself of it's moorings, blew up against the dock, and then got itself under an edge of the dock on a falling tide. Crunch.

Ride leader Les sitting down on the job. This photo was taken at mile 57 of 68. We stopped for a final restroom break along the Cushman Trail. We were close to home, hadn't lost any riders, and were congratulating ourselves on a job well done.

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