Collect moments not things

It’s been a while since our last blog; certainly it wasn't because we didn't have anything blog-worthy. Since our last post, we met new friends and saw a lot of cool things on the road. However, as social media especially Facebook and Instagram made information sharing a lot quicker and easier for us, blogging unfortunately has taken a backseat due to its reflective nature and time investment.

Well, I’m back and I have a cool story to share. For a while now, I bought a bicycle trailer and have been wanting to take it camping. I was inspired by a cyclist’s presentation at REI a few years ago. This guy rode self-supported all over the world; last trip he took at the time was in Myanmar, Thailand and Laos. Later on, I read an article of a Canadian who rode from Vancouver BC down to California and accidentally became a well-known road racer. As a teenager, he used to throw a sack of potatoes and some supplies into his bike trailer and disappeared into the mountains for days. These people obviously shared a love for bicycling but also the love for the freedom of a self-supported trip made possible by a bike trailer or panniers. 

Di and I have been discussing about a trip from Seattle to San Francisco (S2SF). A couple of my friends from grad school had a lot of fun doing it. They spent a month right after graduation exploring beaches and national parks along the way. They must have used the trip as therapy trying to forget about tuition debt for a while :). We wanted to complete the trip within a much shorter time frame, 10 – 14 days, but wondered about the logistics of carrying supplies and whether we can pull it off. So I was like “Hey the only way to find out is to give it a try.” So I bought a bike trailer. 

Good thing I wasn’t dreaming about going to the moon – wouldn’t know where to buy a rocket :).

Good friend Phal helped me purchased a Made-in-Tennessee Lynskey titanium bike a while back. I put on fenders, kickstand, a flask holder (yes, for stuff to numb the pain), and a Brooks leather saddle. Do you know that Brooks only use the thickest part of the cow’s hide (which is around its butt) to make their famously comfortable saddle? Wonder if stranded and run out of food, how long would it take for me to cook that saddle? Anyway, isn’t she the most gorgeous thang? If it wasn’t for me threatening him with Jesus, Tuan would have stolen this beauty long ago. 

Too late for a long intro short, I’m ready to talk about the ride. I decided to take a Friday off (May 19) for a ride up Mount Rainier and camp along the way. A weekday is best because of light traffic on roads. The crew couldn’t come with for good reasons: Work, race & church (in no particular order). They were worried that I couldn’t pull it off. Tuan tried to entice me to turn back early for bun mam; Van threw in a wild hungry bear. Yeah, that bear kept me up all night, you a**hole. I’ll get to that part later.

From Enumclaw, the puny mountain doesn’t look intimidating at all. Or was it just the earth curvature playing trick on me? Anyway, my cheery eyes told my legs not to worry. We got this! 

Saddle up and ready to go! I was hauling around 60 pounds I would say. The trailer itself weighs about 25 pounds, topped off with a 3 person tent, sleeping bag, mat, food, water, hiking shoes and gears (flash light, tire, tubes, repair tools, etc.). 

Off I go! 

Early in the season, most services are still closed.

The distance from the park entrance to the Stevens’ Pass gate is 22 miles; then from there to Paradise Visitor Center would be another 20 miles or so. The bike felt wobbly at first. Any sharp turn would easily tip the bike over. Felt a bit iffy riding on the narrow shoulder. Didn’t quite feel comfortable until a few miles in. On the flip side, the big orange bag was like a safety feature – people couldn’t NOT see me. And they seemed to give me even more space. Sweet!

Whereas there’s deer poops you know you’re in the wild. Glad I had fenders :). 

Riding alone was nice! Jonathan Franzen said: “If you don’t know how to be alone, you don’t know who you are.” Some dude said: “The mind is sharper and keener in seclusion and uninterrupted solitude.” All’s true! It’s refreshing to be in the midst of nature, no cellphone/internet signal - just me, my bike, occasional piles of deer poop and a whole lot of thinking.

The great Yogi Berra said: “When it comes to a fork in the road, take it.” 

In this case, I got to choose between Sunrise or Paradise. Paradise it is! 

Turned out to be a great ride-up temperature-wise. Snow still being plowed to the side of the road. A pass was still closed. 

The descent down the canyon wasn’t so fun though. The bike became very wobbly because the load was adding to the weight thus destabilizing my balance. I had to use the drop bar and applied brake the entire time travelling no more than 18 miles down the canyon. I pulled over a few times as my hands and shoulders hurt and stiffened up from applying the brake and controlling the balance. In a sense this first descent was just as hard as the ascent.

As I turned into Paradise’s park entrance, my heart sank when I see it closed.

 There was about 10-15 vehicles in the parking lot right outside this gate. People was disappointed that Paradise lost. Haha get it? Well, I didn’t come this far just to come this far. I got a little resourceful :)

Let’s say just I got the whole mountain, a stretch of 20 miles, for myself. No money can buy this moment of beautiful stillness! Riding underneath the tree shades, nothing around except for the sound of bird songs and cascading waterfalls. Not long before I got hungry. Kicked up the bike stand and helped myself to bagels, turkey breast and string cheese….yummm! 

The sun was up high but the air was chill. I had to wear a jacket still. Lugging the heavy trailer was a grind at times

I sweated a lot; before long, I ran out of water. Melting snow by the side of the road anyone?

I got to a big lake, Reflection Lake (?), around 4:30 or so. At this point I could go up another 3 miles or so and camp near the Visitor Center or come down the Pass and camp by a dried river I saw earlier. Selecting the second option, I hurried down. Stopped on the way for another bite. 

Strangely I wasn’t worried that it was getting late. Normally on any other ride, I would have thought about getting back before dark. In this case, I thought: “Heck I could keep on riding because I could pitch a tent anywhere and spend the night.” Hey I still have two bagels and plenty of snow-melt water left. It was such a liberating feeling! At this very moment was when I realized “Hey I like bike camping!”

The camping site that I saw earlier was a great one. Level ground right by a river, fairly secluded from the road, and places to hike to.

So I went for a little hike along a creek

Looking for a place for a bio break, then I saw some dried poops. 

I was thinking to myself these don’t belong to a bear, aren’t they?  Hell with it, I was going to do one better right next to that. Who’s the king of the jungle now, punk?! 

Then I saw foot prints and suddenly thought of what Van said earlier. 

I forgot my trusted sling slot. And toilet paper. Good thing a water bottle came to the rescue. Nice!

After stopping by the creek to thoroughly wash my hand and refill the water bottle, I checked in for the night around 8. I barely slept at all thinking of that damn bear. He wouldn’t be too happy seeing that I violated the sanctity of his bathroom. In those Charming commercials, didn’t the bears always get the best TP? I guess they had the last laugh. Shoot!    

Early in the morning, the woods became alive with this cacophonous symphony of birds. One “base” bird kept going “whosh whosh whosh,” the “treble” one went “beeeh beeeh beeeh,” and the “vocalist” geese sounded like a crying baby. I guess some birds are better than others at singing. These were so terrible that they drove me right up. I folded camp around 6:00.

Remember the canyon that I had such a hairy time descending earlier? Grinding out of it was another story. It was so slow and painful in the morning. Again I had to fill up water at one of the waterfalls again and powered up with bagels and string cheese. The bagels became hard over the cold night. Tossed back a couple gel shots, I slowly grinded back up. It was a cold morning. Foggy and wet at some places. 

Then came the tunnel. I thought I saw light at the end of the tunnel…turned out it it was just more snow :) 

Coming out of the canyon took 2.5 hours. 

I went home, took a long shower and slept like…what else, a hibernating bear. Woke up later and went to Tuan’s for bu’n man. It was salty.  

RATS (Ride Around the Sound) 2015: Of Mice and Men

Nhan and I finished our third annual RATS (Ride Around The Sound) Ride last Saturday. Our self-supported version of the ride starts in West Seattle and loops all around the Puget Sound through Tacoma to Port Orchard, where we ride our bikes onto the Southworth ferry back to the Fauntleroy terminal, and then a short climb up a long hill back to our cars. 

Time to earn our hill climbing badges! About 5,400 ft of elevation gain over 80 miles, nbd.

Nhan and I have organized this ride 3 years in a row, bringing different friends each year. Joining us this year were Van, Tuan, Igor, and Chinh. Tuan and Igor are veteran riders, but RATS first-timers. Van attempted the first half of the ride last year.  












Van and Tuan have finished other major rides with us before like Flying Wheels, STP, and RSVP, so this ride was just new scenery for them. Both are strong riders with impeccable taste in bike wear. Rapha and Assos brands; only the finest for these two.
 
They had Nhan feel the fabric on their jerseys, just so they could say, 

"Hey, that's boyfriend material." 

They set that one up so smoothly, even I didn't see that clever pun coming. The under-appreciated minutiae of dressing fashionably for cycling might be lost on their non-cycling female admirers. But I'm sure anyone could breezily acknowledge that both Van and Tuan cut a fine figure in their high-end ensembles.


Igor is a new friend I only recently met on the PROS (Perimeter Ride of Seattle) a few weeks ago. We were somewhat stunned when he told us he planned to ride his bike all the way from North Seattle at 5:30 am to meet us at the start line in West Seattle by 6:30 am! A forgotten water bottle scuttled his ambitious commute, since he realized he would be too late to meet us by the time he went back for it. I swung by and scooped him up on the way there since I was already carpooling with Chinh. 

I'm like free Uber for cyclists.

He's a standout from the other riders snapping pics with their smartphones because he rides with a full-size DSLR camera, which he stores in a mounted handlebar bag. He's a talented photographer, blogger, and cyclist; so his passions converged into a hybrid hobby. 

I commended him for throwing his lot in with a bunch of strangers, especially this crazy crew. He really held his own, despite all the weighty equipment on his bike. He had to bring his laptop with him in a specially-mounted bike rack case because he was on call for work. He was like an office on two wheels. I could only imagine how much faster he would be if he rode unencumbered of all his gear, because he was plenty fast already.

Chinh finished the RATS ride with me and our friend Phal last year, but it took so much convincing for him to come along this year. He worried that he didn't have enough training miles under his belt this season to make the hilly 80-mile trek. 

He jokingly told the guys that I texted him and ordered him to "grow a pair!" 

Although my powers of persuasion are much more eloquent and dignified than that, it wasn't exactly slander since that was the sentiment behind my efforts, hehe. But no, really, I didn't say that. Judging from the sensational smile on his face in these pics, he didn't regret the decision to join us.

Nhan debuted his hot, new BMC bike on this ride. 

He came up with a scandalous alternative acronym that is not decent to print here. You'll have to ask him yourself. He seriously strained his quad during a past week's volleyball game, which is the reason he missed the PROS ride on Labor Day. Recovery kept him off his bike to ensure his injured leg would be ready for RATS. So this ride is one hell of a maiden voyage for the BMC, and a tough test for Nhan's gimpy leg.

One of the many reasons I love this ride is because of the hilly rollers and the peekaboo views of the Puget Sound along the route. I hate to love hills. I'm generally slower up hills simply because I don't have Quadzilla legs like the guys do. 

I can't summon that kind of raw power in my legs, and my watts can barely keep a light bulb going. 

But I get up the hill eventually, and I'm not always last. I usually manage to catch up on the descents instead. I'm not mousy at all about going fast downhill like some more cautious, brake-hugging cyclists. Although, I'm fully aware that one unfortunately-placed rock or pothole at 35+ mph could change all that. But it's an occupational hazard, as with any sport. I do my own stunts, no one needs to wait for me, and I haven't been kicked out of the boys' club yet.

We rode out of West Seattle, through Normandy Park, Des Moines, Dash Point, Federal Way, Brown's Point, then onward to Tacoma where we planned a lunch stop for our self-supported ride. We hoped to enjoy the Des Moines waterfront farmers market, but we were so early this year that the stalls weren't even set up yet. RATS! 

We must have looked like natural ride leaders. A few of the registered riders blindly followed us to the pier, ha. We pointed out to the flock that the actual ride route continued on past the market; we were only stopping here for photos. Sheepishly, they pulled a U-turn and got back on their way. 

Van, ever speedy, rode ahead of us for most of the ride. We missed him at a few re-group points along the way, but this is the first time he did not technically get lost. He knew exactly where he was going-- he just got there much faster than the rest of us. Our group, minus one, stopped at the Starbucks at Dash Point for coffee and snacks. Van was long gone ahead, so he did miss an opportunity to eat. But at least his hill climbing appetite is voracious; he had plenty of hills to feast on. 

After putting in so many miles with us this year, Tuan has definitely found his groove. I noticed he often jumps up out of his saddle to power climb, but he's brisk without being brutish. He knows how to pace himself up a hill. He eats with great enthusiasm on every ride; well-earned after burning so many calories. His appetite actually serves him well because he fuels up exactly when he's supposed to. Ice cream never hurts for recovery either. 

Bike to eat, eat to bike!

Chinh acknowledged with some feigned shock that he is the old man of the group. Van asked Chinh when he graduated from UW. With a straight face, Van declared that he was only 6 years old when Chinh collected his college diploma. Chinh didn't know whether to feel wrecked about Van's youthful energy and power, or if he could use that as his excuse today. 

But Chinh is a strong cyclist in his own right. He can't help it if he hangs with a bunch of young guns. I challenged him not to sound like such a crotchety old man today, otherwise it would add to his 'old fart' persona. That means no complaining about the weather, and no pronouncements about the status of his aching joints or his chilly bones. Chinh is much stronger, and funnier, than he gives himself credit for. We always have a good laugh together, so his company is a must.

We reached Brown's Point, where the RATS organizers set up a food stop. Since we did not officially register for the ride, we didn't pilfer any of their food. This is the same spot last year where hunger compelled Chinh to climb up on Van's shoulders to pick apples among the high tree branches. 

We caught our breath, and then had it taken away again by the commanding views of the bay. We watched a far-off regatta in the distance, the same colorful, billowing sails that we caught sight of earlier through the trees as we coasted down the hill to the waterfront.

This year's ride involved a considerable re-route. As in past years, we passed through the dusty and rusty industrial area on the fringes of Tacoma. Junkyards, heavy machinery, barbed-wire fences, and dilapidated metal buildings-- easily the ugliest part of the ride after the lush waterfront views we enjoyed up until now. 
But instead of the usual stop-and-go traffic lights on the arterial surface streets, the route markings led us up along Hwy 509 into downtown Tacoma. 

A surprisingly belligerent wind kept blowing me sideways, and I felt my bike wobble beneath me even as I pedaled. Scary moment

The highway shoulder is wide enough to safely accommodate cycling alongside cars going 60 mph, but the proximity of speeding vehicles and the abundance of sharp, potentially tire-puncturing debris in the road kept us extra alert for those few miles. 

Toxic green against a blue sky

By now, the iconic Tacoma Dome came into view across the bridge. I stopped at mid-span to take a few pics of the Puyallup River, which reflected an eerie shade of toxic green. 

Tacoma Dome in the distance

One by one, I waved the guys on by and noticed that Nhan was the only one unaccounted for. He eventually biked into sight, citing his sore volleyball leg for the lagging pace. Chinh later fixed him up with an ibuprofen, which propped him up for the rest of the ride. Nhan assured me his leg would be alright, so we forged ahead knowing that lunch was only a few short miles away at the halfway mark. We stopped at The Rock for lunch, same spot as last year. 

The bartender, a bike enthusiast himself, put us on the outdoor patio where we could feel (and shoot) the breeze, while keeping a jealous guard over our bikes. 

Tuan pulled out two hard-boiled eggs from his saddle bag. They were meant to be snacks for the trip, but I guess he forgot about them. Both inevitably cracked over the duration of the ride. Tuan must have sat on his eggs so long that they hatched.

Starting again after a long lunch stop is monstrously tough. Your legs feel lethargic, your muscles accumulate lactic acid, and a full belly weighs you down. 

We rolled languidly past the Tacoma city center, then through a stately residential neighborhood of historical homes that reminded me a lot of Madison Park. Massive, ancient chestnut trees lined the boulevard, and the Port of Tacoma was occasionally visible in the distance from our hilltop vantage point. I remarked to Igor that the pile of fallen, fuzzy chestnuts along the curb looked like a herd of Tribbles, a varmint-like alien species in the original Star Trek series.

Boys on bikes on bridges

Soon enough, the magnificent Tacoma Narrows Bridge came into view. This long bridge crossing is one of the centerpieces of this ride. The original suspension bridge twisted violently and buckled under 40 mph winds on the day it collapsed back in 1940. Poorly engineered, the bridge so often vibrated in windy conditions before its eventual collapse that it earned the nickname, "Galloping Gertie." 

An interesting bit of history-- at the time of its construction, it was the third longest suspension bridge in the world behind the Golden Gate Bridge and the George Washington Bridge. The parts of the original bridge that broke and sank into the strait now serve as as artificial reef in the murky waters below the new bridge that replaced it. 

Good thing I didn't mention any of the bridge's dubious history to the guys before they crossed over it, in part because it was an especially blustery day. 



Co-Conspirators

Unlike crossing the I-90 Floating Bridge which sits so closely to the surface of the water, the Tacoma Narrows Bridge is an exhilarating elevated passage from downtown Tacoma to the Kitsap Peninsula. We stopped at mid-span for a few captivating photos of the water and sky. 

Flying hair

The view from the bridge never gets old for me and Nhan, and I could tell that Van, Tuan, Igor, and Chinh were just soaking it in. 

Two happy dudes and their bikes

Another one of my favorite points along the route is the fair waterfront hamlet of Gig Harbor. There's usually a lot of car traffic through here due to the quaint shops and restaurants, but the streets seemed more congested than usual. I looked up to see a decorative banner stretched above the street announcing the weekend of "The Donkey Creek Chum Festival." Never in my life did I expect to hear the words "donkey" and "chum" uttered together...

L to R: Van, Igor, Chinh, Nhan, Tuan

We stopped at the waterfront park for a bio-break, and to assess the remainder of the route. 

For the last 30 miles, we kept telling Van that we only had about 20 miles left to go, haha

Everyone still had their game face on, but there's always a turning point in every ride where you start to look for it to be over-- this might have been it. Everyone was starting to feel "hangry." We were probably at mile 65 or so, and still had about 15 miles to go after leaving Gig Harbor. 

Now that we were on the Kitsap Peninsula portion of the ride, the scenery morphed into more pastoral backdrops. 

We passed by morbidly beautiful and boggy ponds choked with lily pads and decaying logs, rural residential estates adorned with dilapidated barns that remained standing defiantly beyond their useful economic life, and ghostly gas stations boarded up and resplendent with wispy spider webs taking up residence in the dusty window frames.

Van manspreading, again

We stopped in the shade at one such abandoned building, right before where we needed to turn off the official route to head to the Southworth ferry terminal back to West Seattle. The full RATS route takes riders all the way up the Bremerton ferry back to downtown Seattle, but our shortcut ensures that we would not be caught on desolate rural roads after dark, and we didn't want to ride the ferry back after nightfall.

According to GPS, we were only about 8 miles to the ferry terminal. What GPS didn't tell us was that there was a beastly 18% grade hill we had to climb to get there, ugh. 

It's the end of the day, we're tired and worn out, ready for real food. Nhan's leg acted up again, Chinh felt beat after insufficient training, and Van started to feel the faintest of cramps. Tuan began to dream of post-ride ice cream already, and Igor did not betray any sign of physical fatigue, or weariness from our company, even if he might have felt it.

I climbed that unholy hill without the need for any personal prayers. It was a slow-going grind for sure, but somehow not totally difficult. Although, I was spinning so slowly it must have looked cartoonish to passing motorists.  I trained enough this year; just too tired to mash up. This hill climb was definitely steeper and longer than "The Wall" on RSVP in Canada, which was a short 14% grade by comparison. As I approached the crest, I was alarmed to see Van sitting on the side of the road next to his bike, grimacing. 

I dared not come full-stop for fear of losing what little uphill momentum I had left, so I shouted as I passed, "Cramp or crash?"

"Cramp..." Nhan was next to him, doctoring his leg. Van's leg cramped badly going full-throttle up the hill, so Nhan waved the rest of us on, saying he would stay with Van until he was ready to roll again. We were too tired to argue. Mercifully, that was the last big hill, and we coasted most of the way down to the ferry.

Igor and I were the first to roll into the ferry terminal. We wove our bikes past all the cars queued up to board the next boat, and ended up at the walk-on passenger loading area, nervously waiting for the rest of our friends to arrive. The next sailing was at 3:50 pm, and it was just about 3:30 pm now. If the guys didn't make this ferry, the one after that would not be until 4:55 pm, more than an hour long wait. 

Tuan and Chinh rolled in; still no sign and Van and Nhan, both of whom had injured legs today. So I worried a little, and felt guilty about leaving them back there, even at their insistence. But by the skin of their teeth, they both arrived at the terminal with wide and relieved grins. Chinh and Van lifted their bikes overhead to celebrate another successful ride.


We all got on the same boat together, tied up our bikes on deck, and retired to the passenger cabin to raid the galley and swap individual ride anecdotes. Tuan made his ice cream dreams come true after all. Wish I had gotten a photo of that.

Although we still had one last hill climb back to our cars once we got off the ferry in West Seattle, we settled into the benches for now, and congratulated ourselves on another fun and successful RATS ride. 

We spent the ferry ride doing what all cyclists do after a big ride-- talk about food! Our post-ride meal was a unanimous decision, and it was pho-king awesome.