2014 STP

Day 1
Seattle to Portlandia or STP – the annual 200-mile plus pilgrimage from one tree-hugging soccer-loving hipster Northwest city to another. Of course, a person just doesn’t do that on a CO₂-spewing mode of transportation. No sir, that would not promote a sustainable planet (and that would not give you sir a cool story to casually regale to that hot chick at that party in that smug manner like it’s no big deal because you’re that athletic yet chronically humble). At STP, you are only allowed to traverse on a skateboard, a unicycle, a tricycle, a bicycle or an elliptical on wheels. Most people utilize the bicycle, probably because it’s the most helpful utility (out of the abovementioned) to carry people uphill without them breaking fire like a dragon. In case you haven’t heard, our Washington State Rep Ed Orcutt (R) wanted to tax your carbon dioxide cycling breaths. It’s about the only tax that those (R) politicians like, so you listen to your mother – don’t bike with your mouth open! Better yet, act like you’re at a party: Don’t double-breathe (as you wouldn’t double-dip)…and don’t fart!

In recent memory, the most important event was my brother’s wedding (2012); the most strenuous event was last weekend’s STP. Both happened on the year’s scorchiest (sp) day, temperature straddling triple digits.  At least at Tho and Amanda’s wedding, the heat was much manageable with our parents’ happiness and lots of booze. At STP, while slow-roasting in Dante’s inferno and border-lining dehydration/heat exhaustion, riders suffered either, or a combination of, loss of body fluid, stiff neck, pinched lower back, dried eyes, rashes, burns, and middle fingers from trucking hillbillies (though I suspect this wasn’t necessarily caused by the hot temperature, but rather the limitation in the possession and command of the English language to express displeasure in a civil manner as often the norm in Yelm hillbilly country). 

So here is the crew – wide-eyed for awaiting adventure the morning of. 

Boy, do I wish I had a DeLorean to go back from the future to tell that village idiot (standing second from left) “Don’t book that hotel at the 130 mile mark!”  If Di had joined in on the first day, she would have voiced some concerns since she and that idiot have ridden STP before (therefore should have known better). But those Fantastic Four were newbies so in him they believed. Their hearts were full of joy and trust like those of the 2008 Obama campaigners. Little did they know :)

After some delicious xôi giò from Mom, we hopped right on the road. The first stop was at the Kent REI headquarter. Stops are usually at every 20 miles where riders eat, drink, and have their bikes adjusted. 

Here’s Carmen munching on a PB & J burrito.

 

Not much for taste, just lot of energy nutrients. The same consistency applied to food the rest of the way :(. After two days of munching on Clif bars, energy gel shots, energy jello cubes and Gatorade, I swore I smelled Mongolian beef riding through Longview.  Hallucinating or not, my feet instinctively pedaled right to top of the line…Haha just kidding, Asian people don’t cut in at food lines…Haha just kidding, they do. 

Did I mention the weather was hot? Here Howie started rolling up his shirt Baywatch-style 

This shirt later came off. Whoopie, here it is! 

Hong, Carmen and Chinh reapplied sun block.

As for me, whenever it got hot, I got creative. Selfies baby!!

You know that Murphy law “If things can go wrong will go wrong”? Hong’s stiff neck, Howie’s hurt back, Chinh’s power drain and Carmen’s illness combined with my poor planning could have derailed the trip right by end of Day 1. All would have been lost if it wasn’t for Di coming to the rescue around 9:30 PM when we were still about 7, 8 miles from the hotel, on a dark wooded highway (with no paving shoulders), no bike lights, and not a shred of energy left on tired bodies. Good thing Di kept her promise to attend a friend’s wedding and missed out on the first riding day. To salvage Day 2, Di booked a hotel room at Castle Rock (which is 30 miles longer than the trip’s mid-point), drove there and waited for us. Because I didn’t own a DeLorean, I assured her with full confidence that 130 miles wasn’t that far from 100 miles. Apparently, math wasn’t my strong suit. To make the matter worse, since Lance wasn’t there to help the team with blood cells injection, we found out that biking the extra 30 miles in 95 F was more frustrating than streamlining porn on Clearwire internet - slow, exasperating, and you just want to go to sleep, much less finishing anything. At any rate, when all hope seemed lost, Di appeared with her magic Town and Country. We managed to cram in five bikes and contorted in six people and made it to the hotel around 10:30PM. Di went to McD. We chowed (sp) down, set out the extra mats, and proceeded with rhythmic snoring in earnest. Not comprehending the full consequence, Di declared that sleep farting was one of the STP’s unspoken sanctions. Worse than what them prosperity preachers are doing to Christianity, I think some of us interpreted Di’s proclamation a bit too liberally :)… I won’t name names here or Howie will get mad :).

Before I turn this over to Di to blog about the STP Day 2, I want to point out that mishaps are just accepted inevitable of cycling…much like the hotness of the UW Women Volleyball team. It is what it is. What can you do?   

 

Oh, Sorry... Back to STP!

I want the readers NOT to mistake that Day 1 was just full of near-death experiences :) - On the contrary, it was more like a film reel of one fond memory after another. I appreciate the volunteers banging on cowbells welcoming us at food stops. I love chatting with all sorts of people on the road and hearing their stories and reasons for riding. One team rode to raise awareness of cervical cancer. I thought that was admirable. Some very old; some with one hand or one leg, some very obese. They rode because they refused to let their physical conditions keep them from doing the things they like. The body doesn’t tell the mind what it (the body) can do - The mind tells the body what to do. The mind wants the body to shut out the pain, to keep in shape, to be healthy so the body can protect and grow the only thing that matters. That thing is the brain. I find that inspiring.

Here is my favorite STP picture. A father lent his son a helping hand then leaned in with words of encouragement.

I’m sure my dad did that to us kids when we were little, I just couldn’t remember it now. I thought this picture sums up well a cycling mantra: “Family that rides together, stay together.”   

Namaste!