I Love Big Five

Ah, April. When a young man's thoughts turn to love, and an old man's thoughts turn to "I've got to get in another populaire for my P-12."

The forecast for Monday was perfect, so I knocked off a little early and started the Club Car 100K (RUSA route 1801) at noon. Since it was another of those routes that starts up by the University, I had to deal with the usual parking issues, but this time I did my research and found a lot just down from the starting control, grabbing a spot near The BackDoor -- a very interesting-looking speakeasy that I will have to revisit some other time for a less athletic adventure.

Of course, it was a paid lot and I didn't have a $10 bill, so I went down to the control -- Caffe Ladro -- and got a quick bite. With change in jersey pocket and five minutes to go before my scheduled noon starting time, I then jumped on my bike to go put money in the machine ... and found that my rear tire was flat.

No problem, I thought. My car is here. I've got a floor pump in the back, and should have spare tubes.

And, of course, the pump was there, but there were no fresh tubes.

No problem, I thought. This is why I carry two spare tubes.

And the universe chuckled.

It took a little longer to change the tire than usual, since the rims currently on the bike I was using are ... how should I put this nicely ... recalcitrant. Of course, that wasn't the word I used in the parking lot as I wrestled the tire back on, but this is a family blog. Thus, back at Caffe Ladro at 12:10, I got my card signed and was finally able to head out.

The route (of course) immediately got on the Burke-Gilman Trail, passing through the University of Washington campus before crossing the Montlake Bridge to go to the Lake Washington loop. I missed one turn on the Loop and got a bonus half-mile climbing a nasty hill, but the GPS quickly set me right and soon I was rolling by marinas full of nice yachts across from stately homes.

Getting on the I-90 Trail, I felt good and began thinking how I might finish this ride early enough to need to worry about traffic on the drive home. Then I felt a familiar flacidity from the back of the bike, and heard the universe guffaw as my tire went flat almost exactly in the middle of the bridge.

OK, I thought (since "No problem" was off the table). I've got a patch kit. Let's just make sure that this time we figure out what the issue is before we put the tube in.

So, off goes the wheel and out comes the tube. It's another puncture, and it seems to be in the same place as the last one. But search as I may, I cannot find what's causing it. There is nothing in the tire, so all I can think is that the rim tape on the wheel has shifted and one of the spoke ends is getting through. So I carefully align the rim tape and put on my last fresh tube ... and then wrestle for the next 15 minutes trying to get the $%&-ing tire back on the god-$^*@ wheel.

At one point, I tried resorting to levering it back on with my tire lever ... which promptly snapped. Then I had to take what little of the tire that I had on the wheel back off so that I could retrieve the tip.

On the plus side, a lot of cyclists stopped -- or at least slowed -- and offered assistance. I asked one group of supportive cyclists if there was a bike shop on Mercer Island, just in case I needed to buy another tube. They said no, but that there were some in Bellevue. So, when I finally got the $%&-ing tire back on the god-$^*@ wheel, I pulled out my phone and Googled it. Tracing the upcoming route using my GPS and the cue sheet, there appeared to be a mall with a sporting goods store less than a mile off of the route.

Gingerly, I crossed the bridge and Mercer Island, trying to float over every pothole, seam, and the ubiquitous pavement-heaving-ripples-from-tree-roots on the trail. Turning south on Factoria Boulevard brought me to the mall, where I began looking for a Sports Authority or Dick's Sporting Goods. Instead, I found this.

I parked out front and ran in, asking a sales associate if they had bicycle inner tubes. She wasn't sure, but led me over to their very thin stock of cycling supplies. I had all but given up hope when she found a display with just the right inner tubes.

As I paid for two tubes, I promised myself that I would name this blog post "I Love Big Five," because they saved me. I also was happy that this store wasn't a Dick's, because then the title might attract the wrong kind of reader.

From Factoria, the route climbs a road paralleling the interstate before cutting over to another road that followed the interstate. The second road had a bike lane and the longest, most gradual descent I've seen in years.

Soon, I was in Issaquah, where I managed to miss the information control thanks to the bonus miles and my minimal math capacity. Fortunately, I was worried enough that I stopped and pulled out the cue sheet to discover my error, and it was easy to retrace my route (bonus mile) back to take this picture and write down the answer to the question on the card. Then it was another bonus mile back.

It was now after 3 pm, and the early rush hour traffic on Issaquah-Hobart Road made for a fun few miles. After a steady stream of cars and trucks heading for Mirrormont, I was glad to turn off on Cedar Grove Road.

I've always loved how some towns manage to hold on to a bit of farmland surrounded by suburbia, and the road towards Cedar Grove had plenty of that -- and a good shoulder, too. I was still worried about the tire, even though it seemed to be holding up just fine, and grimaced when I saw the "Rough Pavement" sign as I turned on to S. Lake Francis Road. But the route almost immediately turned off onto another quiet farm road.

At the Maple Valley control, I grabbed a couple of candy bars, got my card signed, and then headed out for the Cedar River Trail.

Although I was heading downstream with the river, a wind had come up out of the north. It was hard work, but I kept my speed above the 15 mph limit, since I was still way behind on my pace thanks to the earlier tire mishaps.

Soon, I was passing through the suburbs south of Renton and watching the rush hour traffic creep by. Although there were a few commuters on the trail heading the other way, I couldn't help but think that more of those people in those cars would've been having a lot more fun if they had ridden theirs bikes to work that morning.

As I got closer to Renton, I saw lots of folks out enjoying the trail on a lovely day. A cyclists passed me, saying something about the headwind, and I considered sitting on his wheel for a bit. But I knew that we were almost in town, and he was probably just doing a short training ride.

When I finally got to Renton, I was tired. I paused to eat the other candy bar, and to take a picture of this bar. Had I walked in -- sweaty and spandexed as I was -- would everybody really know my name?

On the north side of Renton, the route takes a perimeter road around the airport.

It was pretty cool biking along and watching small planes take off. They've also got a lot of big jets there, which apparently they fix. There's a sign warning of noise from testing the engines.

The route took Rainier Avenue out of town, cruising along the edge of the bottom of Lake Washington. This road has a pretty good protected bike lane, so the rush hour traffic zipping alongside me was never an issue. I saw lots of commuters going the other way, so there's obviously a lot of folks that live in Renton and ride their bikes to work in Seattle.

Eventually, I turned off of Rainier Avenue onto a surface road that didn't have a bike lane. Even worse, it had a tough little climb. Cars behaved fairly well, including one Mercedes Benz with the top down, driven by an elderly gentleman smoking a cigar and talking loudly on his cell phone. Stereotype in Sensurround.

The climb paid off with a nice descent down to Seward Park, where I got back on the Lake Washington Loop. The wind was still on my nose, but the views were great.

As always happens in Seattle, eventually you leave the water and need to climb. But I was nearing the end now, passing through nice neighborhoods on the edge of the University district.

I knew I was almost done when I went through the Arboretum. Again, lots of folks were out enjoying the day, taking pictures of the blooming flowers and enjoying the incredible array of trees that they have.

Just past this I got back on my outbound route at the bridge, cruising down the Burke-Gilman Trail again through the University. I was back at my car before 6 pm, with my two spare Big Five inner tubes still in my bag, unused. That's probably just as well, since if I'd had to change another tire I would've gone postal on those freaking rims and been forced to walk the rest of the route.

Fun is a Ferry Ride Away

Ever since we moved here, I've seen lots of bicycles heading for the Fauntleroy Ferry. Many of them are obviously commuters, dressed for any weather possibility and with at least one bag strapped onto their racks or atop the platform of their cargo bike. But many of them -- particularly on the weekend -- are dressed in racing kit and riding carbon fiber bikes that can barely hold a seat bag with a spare tube.

It was the destination of these dilettantes that interested me, so when we had a little break in the weather one day last week and I was able to knock off work a little early, I grabbed my bike and zipped two miles down the hill to catch the ferry to Vashon.

I had, of course, checked the schedule, so that a boat was there and about to leave. I paid my $6.45 and, less than 15 minutes later, I was walking my bike onto the dock.

Since I spend far too much of my day dreaming and planning for various bike rides, I already had a Vashon route programmed into my GPS. When I had put the route together weeks ago, I saw that it would start with a harsh hill. I almost made it all the way up without walking, but cold legs and the heavy bike I was on that day proved too tough a combination to overcome.

At the top, I followed the main road across the island for about a mile, and then turned onto a quieter road. A very quiet road. Maybe even too quiet ... The kind of road on which you begin to think that the pavement is going to end at the bottom of a steep hill where there used to be a bridge.

Pretty soon, however, I realized that, no, the pavement was going to last, but that the road was used only by the people that live off of it. That's because nobody in their right mind wants to meander on any road that is this winding and has this many really steep ups and downs.

The painful road eventually ran into another quiet road that was much less painful. While I had enjoyed the forest views of the painful road, the new road soon had me rolling past fields of cattle and sheep. Although it was mid-afternoon on a "work day," the few cars that passed me were all friendly.

A few miles of this took me across the ridge on the west side of the island before rejoining the main road. I descended the wide shoulder of that road all the way down to the other ferry on Vashon.

Then, of course, came another climb. Maybe my legs were warmer, or maybe the road wasn't as steep, but I was able to make it back up away from the coast without walking this time.

I was soon on the main road, which took me to Magnolia Beach.

Since the road at this point stayed close to the shore -- and since the wind from the south was now finally behind me -- I cruised along this section to Burton.

There was a nice loop here out onto a peninsula full of lovely homes, after which I stopped at the store and refilled my water bottle. Then I continued along the shore to Portage, where I turned off to loop a larger peninsula. After a few more hills, I descended into Dockton.

This is a cute quiet town, and the road that I took back out had an excellent climb. At the top, I passed through Dockton Park, which has miles of mountain biking trails that go all the way to the beach.

After rolling along the top of this ridge, I came to a spot with a scenic view.

Tacoma looks nice from here.

I descended down to the easternmost point, where there is a lighthouse. Since the road to that involved a hard half-mile climb -- and because I was running out of daylight -- I left the lighthouse for another day and headed towards Fern Heath.

This was another of those roads with tough climbs and no traffic, but you could see the houses from this road. Since most of the homes were on the shore, they were really really nice.

The other side of the road was more of a fern gully than a fern heath.

Soon I was leaving the peninsula via Portage and biking along the water to Ellisport. From there, I climbed inland and hit downtown Vashon.

The downtown area has a number of shops and restaurants. Fortunately, the bakery that I found on the main drag was still open. I bought and scarfed a couple of delicious coconut macaroons.

My planned route included one last loop east towards the coast, but I was running out of daylight so I stayed on the main road all the way back to the ferry. Although it had faster traffic on it, and much of it was the ever-speeding commuter type, this road has a pretty good shoulder and I had no trouble.

When I got to the ferry dock, a boat was just leaving.

By the way, that $6.45 that I paid earlier is for a round-trip, as I discovered when I tried to buy a ticket back to Seattle. The nice man at the terminal told me where to wait, and I hung out while more commuters showed up to stand with me in our little pedestrian pen.

Eventually, the ferry came and took me back to Fauntleroy. A light rain had begun as I headed the two miles uphill back to the house, but the views on Vashon were totally worth getting rained on.