Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo Soap Lake

Last Sunday I raced the Gran Fondo Soap Lake with teammates Adam and Frank. This was a brutally long event that took a giant toll on my body. I didn't plan any gravel races after June and certainly wasn't training to race for 125 miles. Race day brought a number of surprises some of which turned out be pleasant.

Three weeks ago Adam asked me via text if I was interested in this new Soap Lake event. Within a day or two he and Frank were signed up. I capitulated soon after. Adam and I usually plan these events well in advance but we would be winging it this time around.

Although we hadn't raced with Frank we knew what to expect. His climbing ability roughly equaled ours. His raw power towered well over ours. I had ridden with him on a few long gravel rides and knew he could handle himself off the road.

We did choose to coordinate one aspect of equipment. Adam and I ran our 32mm Continental GP5000 tires that were so fast for most of the Ephreta race. Frank went with a similar tire. Choosing similar tires meant we would all suffer slightly in the gravel. And we would all be equally speedy on the pavement.

Our race plan was one of necessity. We would ride in support of Frank. With Frank's high power Adam and I were unsure we could even be of assistance but we planned to try. We expected many hours pushing into the wind and Adam and I are not best suited for that role. We were also frank with Frank. If there was a faster and or larger group to work with he should feel no commitment to stay with us.

The route featured two aid stations which broke the course into thirds of about forty miles. Each third had it's own theme.

Photo courtesy shiggy Person

First third - climbing, sorting into groups, testing legs

The only sustained climb of the day started at mile 4.6 and extended less than 4 miles. As predicted it splintered our start wave of 25 riders. Adam and I were a little surprised when Frank started to fade a bit. We kept our effort high until we neared the top. When the lead group of seven was about to crest we took stock and dialed our effort back. Looking forward we saw two riders who had recently been shelled out of the lead pack. Looking back we saw Alistair, a friend of Frank's, pacing Frank up to us. When we crested we hoped to become the first chase group of six.

When the pavement ended so did our chance of keeping six riders together.

Adam and I were taken aback by the changed nature of the gravel. We had ridden this very road in March but the gravel was now dryer, deeper and looser. It squirmed under our tires giving little confidence. As the road tipped down it laid bare the differences in descending comfort on loose gravel.

From miles twelve to nineteen Adam and I relived some horrible memories. This was the same gravel road where we bucked a stiff headwind during the Gran Fondo Ephreta.

We used these miles to get a feel for our legs. We used these miles to work out which riders might work well together. I attempted to observe the riders around me in addition to the wheel I was following.

The highest elevation on the course came at mile twenty five. Adam and I knew this is where our lack of raw watts might be exposed. But for the time being we were pulling our weight. This is also where we encountered a stiff Westerly wind. We immediately morphed into a five wide echelon formation stretching from center line to ditch. Elegant.

Adam, Frank, Alistair, and I made up the core of our group. Others joined. Some left. The count eventually grew to seven. At the two hour mark we received our first real rest. A full four miles of paved descent down to Coulee City. Six minutes later we pulled into the first aid station.

Middle third - settling in, looking around, measuring up

After just two minutes at the aid station we were soft pedaling East down Main Street. We took it easy to ingest our food and water.

Once out of town we merged onto Road 36 with nine miles of due East pavement ahead. We were chatting, eating, and looking over our shoulders. We were not surprised to see Alistair rejoin. A few minutes later Brad closed the gap. With five solid riders we put our heads down and got back to work. Our increased pace allowed us to collect one more and our group of six reeled in those flat and paved miles nicely.

Just before mile fifty the pavement came to and end. Our sixth rider slowed for the gravel which left five strong well matched riders. We were working well as a group and I hoped we could stay together until at least the second aid station. I also started collating my mental notes about the riders in our group.

• Frank, our leader, seemed quiet. Each time I checked in with him he consistently reported he was doing OK.
• Adam was looking strong. He wore a wide grin more often than not.
• Alistair seemed solid. He said little. But on a number of occasions he pulled out of second wheel position and skipped a pull.
• Brad was riding to save energy. He was skilled at riding cross wind echelon formation even on gravel. He also skipped a few pulls.
• Like Brad, I was riding to save energy. I also minded my nutrition like clockwork.

At mile 52.7 we reached the Northeast corner of the course. All westbound legs would be into a headwind. And we faced a lot of westing to get back to Soap Lake.

At three and one half hours and 62 miles I tested my assertiveness. As we approached a slight rise I informed our group of five that we would all stop for a nature break. The land sloped away in all directions and we took in the view just long enough to make water. Twenty seconds later we were back in formation and pedaling away.

After our quick break I couldn't help but take more mental snapshots of the scenery. With blue skies and fluffy clouds dotting the horizon it was beautiful.  

Miles and miles of rolling hills under a cloud punctuated blue sky. Photo courtesy Frank Colich.

 

I could sense the fatigue within the others as well as myself as we worked toward the second aid station. Fortunately we continued to share the work and I was thankful we remained five riders strong.

We rolled into the Wilson Creek aid station with almost exactly five hours of cycling in the books. Our stop ran long by design. Adam and I had discussed and planned to allow extra minutes to shake out our legs and unkink our backs.


Final third - Digging deep, some tactics, getting found out

As we rolled out of Wilson Creek Adam and I had a short private chat. Adam was looking and feeling the strongest of the five. We were prepared to promote leadership to his shoulders.

We were barely out of town when we turned right off R3 NE road and back onto gravel. The first rolling hill went up at six percent and we began to string out. Frank faded off the back and Brad asked if we would slow for him. I glanced at Alistair and Adam up the road and responded "It doesn't look like it."

That question demonstrated two new tactical factors. We were now riding for Adam in place of Frank. The weak link in Brad's chain was revealed.

I calculated we would remain a foursome for the next twenty five miles. I was way off. Two miles later, at mile 91, a four percent stepped climb that extended for two miles broke us further. Adam set a sustainable pace and I held his wheel. Alistair and Brad failed to hold mine.

Over the next five miles Adam and I pushed a stiff pace and watched our gap grow to 30 seconds. These miles were tough as we were working against a headwind. I was suffering properly. We passed a trio of riders from an earlier wave. All three were riding the same make and model Adam and I prefer: Ibis Hakka MX. Two miles later I documented our gap at 45 seconds but also relayed some troubling news. The Hakka trio was working with Alistair and Brad. I watched my mirror over the next ten minutes. They were bringing us back. We sat up in disappointment. Effort wasted. My legs asked that we quit. I thought 'not yet'. Eleven miles after Adam created the split Alistair and Brad had closed it.

The next ten miles saw riders joining and exiting the group. The group grew to nine at one point but not everyone was well suited to riding in formation. A surprise aid station at mile 105 contributed to the group's dis-function and also acted as a catalyst for the recent additions to opt out. The group was whittled down to known solid riders. Adam, Alistair, Brad, and myself. Plus one. A rider named John brought us up to five. He demonstrated his willingness to work and fit right in. Adam continued to demonstrate his strength when he was on point.

I did my homework for this gravel race. We knew the final climb would present itself at mile 117. We expected this climb would determine the finish positions. Before we could get to that climb the unraveling began in earnest.

We were at mile 111 when Alistair allowed a small gap to open on a short descent. He did not close it. I did not immediately notice he was dropped. But I did take note when Brad let a small gap open up on the next short climb.

My mental notes were clear. During the course of the day I repeatedly observed Brad allow a small gap as we climbed each rolling hill. As the fastest descender in the bunch he would then close the gap as we rolled back down.

On that short climb at mile 113 I observed the first half of the pattern as Brad let that gap open. At the crest I took two seconds to scan the road forward and confirmed the scenario I had been waiting to see. The road stayed flat. With no descent Brad would struggle to close the gap. I did my part to extend that struggle by jumping to the front for a long hard pull. When I was winded I flicked John past and then waved Adam off so I could have John's wheel giving Adam some extra rest. One or two minutes later I took the front and repeated my effort. My reward was neutralizing one more of my teammate's competitors.

These miles were tough as I kept my efforts up. My body relentlessly requested that I quit. My mind fought back. I accepted that I might quit. But only on specific terms. I wouldn't let myself give up until I blew up. As we neared mile 117 I had not yet blown up.

Behind us Frank was also suffering. He was doing most of the work solo and later reported that he saw some dark times during those final miles.

I had invested in getting Adam to the mile 117 climb in the best shape and with the fewest competitors. It was up to him to finalize the deal. He didn't. Not in the way I expected, anyway.

Adam set the pace up the final climb. He chose a pace that did not immediately break John nor me. I chose to work on John. We rode side by side and I gave him permission to suffer less. I gave him permission to let Adam go. I sweetened the proposition by promising him the line before me. He told me he didn't care about finish position. I was skeptical. At the top of the climb John dug and we closed the gap up to Adam.

It looked like we would ride as a trio to the line. Just two point fives miles from the finish we faced one small rise. Adam said nothing. Adam did not look over his shoulder. Adam upped the pace and floated off the front. My eyes were riveted to John who did not respond. I whispered that the offer was still good. John said he was done chasing.

Adam never did look over his shoulder. John and I enjoyed our conversation over those last few miles while we watched Adam power away to earn twelfth place. I stopped pedaling near the line and instructed John to pull ahead. But John stopped pedaling too. He really didn't care about finish position and we coasted over the line just a second apart after putting in over seven and one half hours in the saddle.

Adam was waiting. The three of us had a nice chat as we soft pedaled through the town of Soap Lake. John was participating in his first Vicious Cycles Gran Fondo and enjoyed the ride and the scenery. Adam confirmed what we already knew. He felt strong all day. I revealed just how close to cracking I was during the final twenty miles.

Photo courtesy Roger Burton

Epilogue

The four hour drive home seemed easy compared to the time on the bike. We had plenty of time to analyze what worked and why.

We stayed within our limits. We chose to concede the battle up that first climb to make sure we could still stand at the end of the war. Through the middle of the race we kept our efforts moderate and focused on recharging when possible. The second aid station stop, maybe the longest race day stop of our year, worked wonders to stave off crushing fatigue. As we neared the finish we pushed just hard enough at just the right times.

In the past race day tactics have fallen to Adam. At Soap Lake I was finally able to make tactical contributions. None of my observations nor moves were race defining. But I demonstrated some improvement in getting my eyes open to the big picture while turning the pedals.

We smoothly pivoted to support Adam. We agreed Frank is probably the strongest among us. But Frank wasn't having his best day. Adam was. And by a lot. He demonstrated he was the strongest rider in the group all day long.

Gran Fondo Soap Lake was brutal. Full Stop. 125 miles of pavement and gravel. Seven and one half hours on a bicycle saddle. It allowed me to discover the quantity of punishment I am able to endure. Brutal.

Solid day of racing at Gran Fondo Soap Lake. We were pretty pleased with ourselves.

Acknowledgement

I didn't get to the finish line without a load of help. Frank and Adam provided the enthusiasm I needed to take on the challenge. Adam, Alistair, Brad, Frank, and John all put their noses into the wind for my benefit. Jake and Karen of Vicious Cycles Promotions were able to create Gran Fondo Soap Lake on a tight timeline. There were countless volunteers that worked the aid stations and registration desk and drove the support vehicles. Thank you for your support.

Adam and I have shared a great season of gravel racing. He has been my mentor on all subjects training. He has helped me see the big picture during our gravel racing. He has demonstrated and inspired the willingness to work hard for the success of another. He has allowed me to be part of a team of which I am quite proud. Thank you.

 

 

Circuit Racing at Pacific Raceways

In June, with my gravel season in the mirror, I found another cycling discipline to sample. Circuit racing on pavement at Pacific Raceways tickled my interest. It was also meant to be a fitness bridge into training for cyclocross season. I leveraged my relationship with some of the Fell Swoop racers to help me stay out of trouble and more safely learn the ropes.

I stepped into my first event guided by the "run what 'ya brung" mantra. My gravel bike, designed as much for cyclocross, was outfitted with road tires and sent into battle.

Race Day One 7/6/2021

My goals were pretty simple going into my first event. Most importantly I needed to stay upright and not pull any bonehead moves that put my fellow competitors at risk. Apparently the skills learned riding in the gravel peleton translated well. After just a lap or two I was relaxed in the pack. My instincts prevented me from committing any pack racing etiquette violations.

My secondary goal was more broad. I wanted to get a taste of the various scenarios that take place in a typical circuit race. I spent time 'sitting in' mid pack to gain comfort in tight quarters. I moved to the back to feel the 'yo-yo' and benefit from more draft affect. I spent some time near the front to witness the strong racers push the pace up or make break away attempts.

At one point I even signaled a Fell Swooper to get on my wheel, worked up to the front, and pushed up the pace. My effort did little to affect the outcome of the race. It did allow another check mark on the list of first time racing experiences.

At three laps to go I pulled the plug. A break of five riders was off the front and the peleton was strung out and chasing in earnest. I could feel the fatigue creeping in and worried my bike handling might begin to suffer. I flicked an elbow to warn the rider behind that he would need to fill my position and then found a wide section of the tarmac to pull out line. The peloton continued on to a bunch sprint finish. I pedaled solo to the line content that I avoided any big mistakes.

Ibis Hakka MX impersonating a road race bicycle.

In the days that followed my first all pavement bike race I took stock.

My bike handling was up to the task. My legs were not. Two months without structured training had taken the edge off my fitness. My Ibis Hakka MX was both familiar and comfortable at Pacific Raceways. But it was not the best tool for the job. Most importantly I had fun and wanted to give it another go.

Structured training resumed immediately. I didn't need peak fitness to enjoy racing at PR but I did need to regain some of what was lost. I simple goal of one hour of intensity per week along with a moderate amount of volume would likely move the fitness needle in the right direction. Five weeks seemed long enough to restore some strength and I circled the last four Tuesdays in August as my targeted race dates.

My gravel bike was an imperfect road race bike. I had fitted a larger chainring and skinnier tires. Both changes helped but they were just lipstick. There exist plenty of bikes designed for road racing but the race garage contained none. Mike, a good friend of similar height, did have a suitable candidate. A borrow agreement was reached and his older Calfee Tetra Pro was transferred into my possession. I hadn't ridden a proper road race bike in a while. The Calfee seemed pretty quick. A set of used carbon aero wheels were found on Craigslist which only added to that sprightly feeling. 

Mikes older Calfee Tetra Pro was an ideal tool for fast laps around a paved race course.

 
Before I arrived for my second race I checked in with team Fell Swoop. I inquired if they might guide me in learning the more tactical aspects of circuit racing and if they might accept my offer to 'work' with the team. They accepted and I enjoyed being on the 'inside' for the pre-race tactical chatter. With near zero tactical experience I could offer only limited help. Covering or bringing back breaks that lacked a Fell Swooper was my only assignment.

Race Day Two 8/10/2021

My second race wasn't all that much different than the first. I continuted spending time mid pack getting the feel for how riders move about the peleton. I floated to the front to watch riders make their moves. I covered a few when I could. When Fell Swooper Thomas got off the front with ten other riders I contributed nothing to the chase. Towards the end, when the break away group was caught, I moved up towards the front. The pace was high and I had not yet been in the thick of a sprint finish. As we neared the end of the final lap the pace was up and riders were aggressively jostling for position. Forty five seconds from the finish my nerves got the best of me and I gracefully pulled out of the pack. The 'Sprint finish' check box would remain unchecked yet again.

Race Day Three 8/17/2021

As I was climbing the steep bit of the tactical learning curve the Fell Swoopers were beginning to become comfortable with me within their ranks. Thomas was lying third on season points and the team intended a more deliberate effort to support him via a lead out train. I offered to work towards this goal and a rough plan was in place before the race.

The lead out plan became moot as we learned we would be racing the 'Escape Route' course. Escape Route utilized the back section of Pacific Raceways which included a small descent and climb. That climb, as short as it is, disrupts any lead out trains. In the positive column I would get to experience a new set of tactical challenges related to this course.

The first lap down the hill set me on my heels. The peloton grew wings and we flew at speeds North of 40 m.p.h. After each trip down a few strong riders pushed the pace climbing back up the other side and the peloton was forced to answer.

Near the end of the second lap I was given an opportunity to check off another racing experience check box. A group of eight strong climbers, including a Fell Swooper, had created a small gap climbing up the hill. I followed the wheel of the rider leading the chase effort. When his elbow flicked I took the front and performed my best false tempo. A feather could have knocked me to the ground when I looked over my shoulder ten or fifteen seconds later. The peloton had slowed behind me creating a small gap. Appreciating this gift I pushed 650 watts for the next fifteen seconds to bridge up the the break away group. At about this time a much stronger rider also chose to bridge from mid pack. But the peloton was not offering a second gift. They chased and the break away was caught shortly thereafter. I did not check the box 'Get into a break'.

The remainder of my race was spent staying clear of trouble on the descent, patrolling the front, and discovering that my ability to endure the short climb was above average. The break away group was well up the road but the peloton would not finish easy. On the final trip up I had some matches to burn. Two riders, including Fell Swooper Z, charged up and I responded. Z ran out of steam leaving me second wheel. Fifteen seconds later I was leading the peloton within sight of the finish but without any tactical direction. I had no Fell Swoopers on my wheel and no chance of holding a finish effort from this far out. I kept moderate pressure on the pedals and let the strong riders come past and get on with their finish sprint. Checking the box 'Observe sprint finish' offered little consolation.

Race Day Four 8/24/2021

After my previous week's efforts the Swoopers were warming up to my help. I adopted the title 'subcontractor' as I worked for the team but lacked a membership card. This day Fell Swoop turned out thirteen teammates and me. This was just over one quarter of the field. Plans were adopted to make many attacks and simply wear down any and all chasers. I was given the tasks of covering a particular competitor and jumping onto breaks when feasible. 

This race also offered a new tactical twist as it was a 'point per lap' scoring format. In short, the first and second riders over the line each lap gained points. Most accumulated points at the finish was the winner.

The Fell Swoop team prepares to race at Pacific Raceways. Photo courtesy Z-Dog of team Fell Swoop.

Just as in the week before, the plans fell apart almost immediately. The first break away attempt of the night, literally from the start line, succeeded and had a rider named Ted and Fell Swooper Travis. Neither Ted's team nor Fell Swoop were willing to chase and they stayed off the front for the entire race. They also collected every point which earned Travis second rung on the podium. This made for a less than exciting race for the rest of us.

Oddly some riders still chose to sprint for the finish line every lap. With an abbreviated sprint group I realized my 'Sprint Finish' box could be checked in a relative safe environment. At about the halfway point of the race I positioned myself about fifth wheel as we approached the line. I rode that wheel as long as possible. My timing was pretty good. My ten second power, just under 1000 watts, was as good as this non sprinter could expect. Two other riders powered past before we reached the line and I shut it down. Box checked. Finally.

On the final lap I participated in an attempt at a lead out train. I took my position in line. I took my turn at the front. I put in a big effort. But we weren't able to sustain the train to the finish line. It was an excellent trial by fire and helped me comprehend just how difficult it is to execute a proper lead out train.

Race Day Five 8/31/2021

Our previous week's lead out effort catalyzed more conversation around another attempt. The final race of the PR season was scheduled to be only 30 minutes in length. The pace was hot. A few surges occurred at the front. I covered when I could. But the high speeds curbed the enthusiasm for a serious break away attempt. Most of the race was spent holding on to whichever fast wheel came my way. On the final lap Fell Swoop again attempted to assemble a lead out train and again it was not sustained to the finish. Another big effort on my part solidified the team's appreciation of my help.

Conclusion

On the subject of circuit racing I concluded the following: I stayed upright. I didn't embarrass myself. I had a ball.

Circuit racing at Pacific Raceways was quite rewarding. I went in with the goals of a new experience and some gained fitness. I came out with a strong appreciation for the trifecta of strength, tactics, and teamwork that is required to compete at the front. I cannot guarantee how much circuit racing I will do next year. But, as a clue, I can confirm the renewal of my 'bike borrow' agreement.

Acknowledgment

The success of this endeavor required help from others. The members of Fell Swoop, especially Z, lowered my apprehensions over pavement racing and welcomed me in with open arms. I don't know that I could have crossed over without their help. On the material side, I need to thank Mike for loaning me a competitive and beautiful collection of carbon, titanium, and aluminum in the form of the Calfee Tetra Pro. Unlike my gravel bike, it has been a near perfect tool for the job.

Bike Pack Easton

When the planning started for our bikepacking to trip to Easton Washington we were not targetting the most grand adventure. As rookies our goal was a simple and enjoyable trip where we tested our gear in a low stress environment. We aimed to find out what worked, what didn't, and what was going to break.

We wanted to keep the route simple. An out and back along the Palouse to Cascades trail fit the bill. We wanted to keep the logistics simple. Lake Easton Campground with access to a local burger joint and convenience store was chosen as our destination.

We departed North Bend under sunny skies. We were familiar with the route and quickly fell into conversation about work and family. Adam shared his son's recent soccer success. I shared my latest bicycle road racing lessons. Before we knew it we were making our only turn.

After seven miles we took a minute to check gear and make adjustments. At 38 pounds fully loaded my Ibis Hakka MX was no lightweight.

The Nisqually Valley Trail ends where the Palouse to Cascades Trail begins. We stopped to utilize the facilities and assess our progress. We were moving nicely despite our bikes' heft. We agreed our bikes felt sluggish but nothing we couldn't adjust to.

My Ibis Hakka and Adam's Norco Search XR hang out atop one of the many gravel surfaced train trestles.

We pressed forward onto the climb. It was long. 19 miles. But it was shallow. Less than 2% average gradient. Nobody tipped over. Nothing fell off. Nothing broke. We were having fun and the miles came easily. We arrived at the tunnel in good spirits.

Adam geared up for the cool temperatures of the tunnel with this fancy flannel cycling jersey.

We were about to cycle into the dark.

The darkness of the tunnel parted for us and our estimated 2000 lumens of handlebar lights. The 2.5 miles was completed without incident and we were soon enjoying the scenery of Eastern Washington.

I stopped for this photo just as we were about to emerge from the tunnel into Eastern Washington.

Riding along the shores of Lake Kachess was beautiful. We took note that the water level was down compared to our last visit. We kept an eye out for helicoptor rock but must have missed it. We also kept an eye out for other bikepackers. We saw evidence of a bar bag here and a frame bag there. But none looked stuffed enough to contain gear for camping.

Lake Kachess was beautiful on this day with spectacularly reflective water.

In addition to the 2.5 mile tunnel at Hyak we passed through a tunnel near Martin. This tunnel was short enough to easily see the exit as we entered. I hesitated to turn on my head light but was glad I did when it illuminated a hole in the right side of the trail. Adam was able to dodge a matching hole on the left side of the trail. Later we realized that stopping to fill the holes would have been the kindly thing to do. We committed to this action on the next day's return trip.

We arrived at the Lake Easton Campground well before the 2:30 check in time. Neither first-come-first-serve hiker/biker campsite was claimed. We parked our bikes, completed the registration process, and breathed a sigh of relief that we knew for sure where we would be bedding down.

We set our tiny tents at the tiny hiker/biker campsite. A second hiker/biker campsite remained unused.

It seemed wise to get a few camp chores out of the way and we started with tent assembly. Adam had little practice with his recently acquired one man tent but it went up quickly. My tent assembly practice seemed fruitless as my tent went up slowly. Once completed we decided to reward ourselves with lunch and some light-bike exploring in and around Easton.

We found few options for lunch but the one we chose was a good one. A local burger place called Mountain High Burgers served giant burgers. We took refuge on a shaded picnic table behind the restauraunt and replenished the calories previously depleted.

With full bellies we took the remainder of our exploration at a friendly pace. Our last stop was the Hitching Post convenience store. I checked in on their pizza service which was available till six p.m. Adam checked out with a cold six pack of Dru Bru Hazy Session IPA.

Once back at the campground we had six cans and a few hours to kill. The cold IPA was perfect after the many hours of pedaling. We goofed off around the campsite till the dinner hour.

We hung out at the Hitching Post. We watched the world go by. We were not in a hurry. It was perfect.

In the theme of keeping the trip simple we ordered a sausage and peperoni pizza from the Hitching Post for dinner. As we waited outside at the picnic tables for the pizza to bake we watched a parade of people and vehicles come and go.

A pair of four wheel drive off road buggies stopped for a while and I chatted with one driver. Plenty of car campers stopped for fuel. One gentleman walked back and forth a number of times and we took him for the owner. He seemed plenty busy. He even checked in that his leaf blower wasn't a nuisance. It wasn't until our final interaction that I even noticed he was packing heat. This came as no surprise as we had already read the store's politically conservative reader board message.

Yeah! Pizza! Was is the best pizza ever? Probably not. Did we devour it anyway? Yep.

The pizza was well received and we paired it with a shared 22 oz bottle of dark beer.

My camera caught Adam's phone documenting our campsite.

The theme of 'goofing off' continued when we returned to the campsite. Photos were taken. More beer was consumed. Sunset came too early as did bedtime.

My bicycle water bottles adopted the local beer's labels. This photo shared only to demonstrate we had too much time on our hands.

Small tent and tall rider.

Finding some semblance of comfort while sleeping during a bike packing trip was always going to be a challenge. My night started rough. I brought extra layers for warmth but found it difficult to add them inside my one person tent. The effects of extra beer and car noise from nearby I90 challenged my normal sleep pattern. Halfway through the night I found the right number of layers and some restful hours of sleep.

I snapped a selfie on Sunday morning. Our faces made clear that Adam was one coffee ahead of me at that moment.

In the morning we tested our cooking systems. Knowing that a coffee shop was just five minutes of pedalling away gave us confidence that our coffee and breakfast needs would be met regardless of our cook systems' performance.

I chose a nearly all DIY cooking solution. A DIY soda can alcohol stove surrounded by a DIY wind break heated a cook pot I made from a stainless water bottle bottom. This was sufficient to prepare both my coffee and a serving of oatmeal.

The alchohol flame is tough to see but my stove was in action for this photo. Just minutes later I poured my first cup of bike packing coffee into my recycled paper cup. It was good enough.

As we tidied the campsite a single unopened beer was found. Fearing it go to waste Adam found room for it. On his waist.

Over the next two hours we slowly broke down camp. Just after ten a.m. we were pedaling West. We settled into a gentler pace than our previous day.

We entered the short tunnel cautiously only to find evidence that a good samaritan had already filled the holes.

Further West we found the lighting along Lake Kachess was beautiful. We visually searched the shore but again could not locate helicoptor rock. It seemed so easy to find last year but that's likely because the helicoptor was sitting on it. We also took a short detour down onto the dry lake bed at the Northwest end. The lake bed looked smooth from up on the trail but not so much once we got there.

Miles of smooth gravel, mountains all around, and a sky full of sunshine. This snap was taken as we approached the Hyak parking lot.

After filling bottles at the Hyak parking lot we tackled the long tunnel one more time. We had to work against a headwind and it seemed much colder this time.

We passed tens if not hundreds of pedestrians and cyclists as we finished out the miles. We slowed and waved as we passed. Most seemed to be having fun. Only one swerved into our path giving us a chance to test our bike handling skills. We waved to that rider as well.

During the final miles we talked about our impressions from our first bike packing trip. We committed to doing it again. Our research and preparation served us well. Adam lamented his choice of bib shorts. They provided 'one day only' comfort. I felt like the trip seemed to be ending too soon.

Smiles of success as we climbed off our bikes at the end of the trail. Both riders and both bikes completed the trip with near perfect scorecards.

By two p.m. we were loading our heavy bikes into the pickup in North Bend. The trip was completed and judged to be a complete success. The majority of our gear worked well with the only breakage occuring in my sleep schedule. Although not an adventure of epic proportions, our modest bike packing trip gave us the confidence to step up our game for the next one.