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.

Cycling for jackfruit

Why do men travel? Why should men travel?

In the machismo-overload manifesto Mansfield’s Book of Manly Men, Stephen Mansfield suggests that traveling is like questing, a sure way for a man to Show Himself a Man. 

Mansfield concludes that “most of us are tragically overdomesticated. We have hardly any connection to the wild or our wilder selves. Words like adventure, exploit, and quest no longer apply to us…” Instead of “an iPad-addicted, overlauded life,” Mansfield suggests that “men need to bark at the moon. Men need to blow thing something up. Men need to go in pursuit. Men need a quest…” Perhaps Mansfield needs to take a chill pill because nobody really needs to turn himself into a werewolf nor lit up some C4 to show himself a man. Nor should he need to dump his Apple products.

As a cyclist, my view of travel is more in line with Mark Twain’s. The mustached one was quoted saying: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Or grab that bicycle, make sure tires are properly inflated between 90-110 psi, and set out for adventure (don’t forget to grab spare tubes and a water bottle).” Maybe old Twain didn’t exactly say the last few words - but he would if he had ever experienced with a double flat in the middle of Nowhere, Eastern Washington in the middle of a sweltering summer.

How's about "traveling is about experiencing the things you love with the people you love?" 

Last March, I traveled to Vietnam and Myanmar with my family. Below are the reasons I love it there.

I love eating tropical fruits – all shapes, smell, textures and flavors. 

I love dogs – I have three at home so I look for them on the road. The thing about dogs is that they are the same anywhere in the world: just plain cool, fun, elegant and loyal. 

I love babies. I'd rather kiss them than eat them...maybe just the plumb ones. 

I love traveling because of the many cool ways to travel:

Of course, no cooler way to travel than on a bike! 

Here’s my sister Thu on her way to morning coffee in a dress. Town folks must have thought she was crazy but she had fun.

And say if you love to eat jackfruit and your aunt gave you a juicy one to take home…Rickety bike to the rescue! Wet a couple dried banana stems, use them to tie down the thorny thing to the back seat and pedal it home! 

Wow, Nhan, you’re so smart! Yes, but check out these Burmese guys. Cycle-styling in longyi wearing flip flops. Total bad ass! 

Check out how they design their bikes to transport cargo. The bike is made to carry two passengers sitting back-to-back. Yangon doesn’t allow mopeds so poor folks hail a bus or a bicycle to get around.

Out of Yangon and to Bagan: many things to see and feel. 

The best way to wander and explore was, of course, on a bike: 

Bicycling is cool.