Nobody, but nobody, turns down an invitation to a ride by this name.
A good friend of mine had to close his bike shop in San Diego because he couldn't afford the rent. He mentioned on facebook that he was now afraid he wouldn't be able to afford his personal apartment rent either (in the same building). Then he went to Tijuana and his laundry was stolen out of his car, which included all of these old collectible bike messenger t-shirts and ALL of his socks. None of which has anything to do with Sunday's century ride.
Unlike the small story above, Sunday's ride was primo, We met in the Northwest Industrial neighborhood at a warehouse. I recall racing a Bike Swam Alley Cat from that same warehouse a coupla years ago. NW Industrial is a very weird and haunted feeling place, especially at 8am on a Sunday.
I got there exactly on time because they said they were leaving at 8 sharp and just as I was about to leave, people started to show up. 9 of us altogether. 2 chicks. If you count me. The other girl just got into riding and this was her second century and she was super fun and laughed a lot. We rode up Saltzman, which I spent most of the day Saturday dreading, but then it turned out to be no big deal. Skyline out to Old Cornelius, Rock Creek, out out out to Banks. So pretty and gray and a teeny bit damp and really cold but only if you stopped moving. Actually kind of ideal weather for pedaling.
The leader guy was super nice and thoughtful and kept doing really quick regroup stops to keep us together. We had our first rest stop in Banks and then got on the Banks-Vernonia bike path, which is pretty supreme. 20 miles of bike path with no angry honking cars, which we encountered a lot on the other parts.
The Mediterranean place in Vernonia that I spent several miles looking forward to was closed until February. Jerks. So we went to this Mexican place instead and everyone got big plates of food. I got the super nachos which were super delicious and I have no regrets, even if I did keep burping super nachos for hours. From there we started out as if we were going to the Birk. That route is so familiar to me and it felt really cool to be out there. It was all so quiet and empty and gray and foggy and there was lichen and moss everywhere.
Then we turned onto the Scappoose Vernonia Highway, which I've never ridden in that direction before so my mind was a little blown when it turned out to be this massive climb. I thought it was a massive climb from the other direction but I guess climbs feel massive when you go up them and descents are quick and easy to forget.
I started to drop back and sing I've Been Working On The Railroad, which soothed my frazzled nerves. I kept thinking my back tire was really soft. Finally, around five zillion years later, we made it to the top and everyone was waiting for me and we zoomed down to Scappoose and went to a drive-thru coffee place. I got a hot cocoa with a shot of espresso in it. Drink of the gods, I tell ya, wow did that revive me.
From there we slogged back in the dark cold wet with zillions of cars on highway 30 and I was so happy when I saw the Sauvie Island bridge silhouette, then even happier when the St. Johns Bridge sillhouette came into view. We went to this bizarre brew pub in the middle of NW industrial nowhere and I got a beer and an order of toast and lived the high-carb dream. Then downtown to the max train and home to my cat and my shower and my bed. Woke up the next morning as if nothing had happened.