I did the ride solo, staying in pace lines only about 10% of the trip. I hit the road a little after 4:30am, and left directly from my house in Auburn. For all the cynics out there, I didn’t simply head south from home. Instead I took the Interurban Trail north past the Tukwila train station, and caught the official route on Oakesdale. When I reached REI HQ in Kent, my odometer was 1.5 miles less than the official queue sheet based on departing from UW Husky Stadium. It was still dark for the first 30 minutes, so I used a cheap elastic LED headlamp wrapped around my helmet. I figured if it really annoyed me later in the day, I wouldn’t be too upset discarding a $7.00 item. I ended with that silly lamp in my jersey pocket for the next 200 miles.
Right at REI HQ, which was 24 miles as the map goes, groups of similarly paced riders formed. Up front were racers – groups of a dozen or more guys in matching kits. Behind them was a mixed bag of people. I settled in behind a group of the non-racers and stayed in line until the Spannaway stop at mile 55. I was way ahead of my anticipated schedule, but I didn’t want to get cocky. It was at this stop I observed a huge difference from riding the 2-day ride: there were hardly any people. Within 10 minutes I used the Honey Bucket, topped off my water and grabbed some munchies. Almost immediately I hit the road, grinding past Ft. Lewis on HWY 507. This time I was by myself, as most of the crowd I’d latched onto in Kent must have stayed behind longer at the stop.
I was feeling good when I reached Centralia at 10:00am. My feet and neck were aching a bit, so I took a longer 20 minute break this time. Took my shoes off, ate a turkey sandwich and popped a couple tablets of Alleve as my knee was bugging me a tiny bit. I figured I should squash any inflammation before it became serious. I cleaned myself up, changed my head scarf and socks (sounds silly, but really refreshing after 100 miles) and hit the road again.
Out of Centralia there was a lot of meandering turns through town with stop and go for a the next few miles. A little ways past Chehalis I met up with HWY 603 and lowered my pace a bit and kept things steady until the mini-stop at Winlock at around 120 miles. I didn’t stop there. I figured I’d been able to last 50 miles between breaks, so may as well keep on until Lexington. That was a minor mistake. I was actually hurting a little when I reached Vader (127m?) so I stopped at the mini-stop. I had 2 shots of espresso and a 16oz Gatorade. These nice, but simple folk didn’t understand how to “ice a drink” so I chugged what amounted to 4oz of extra thick truck stop coffee hot. I chilled out under an umbrella with my shoes off for 20 minutes and felt really good when I got back on the bike.
I took it a little easier – maybe going only 17-18mph until reaching Lexington. Lexington was just under the 150m mark, and a little deceiving mentally. The reason the location can psyche you out, is you’re about 5 miles from the Columbia River and of course the Washington/Oregon border.
Anyone who’s done the STP will tell you it’s a moment of pride crossing the bridge, looking up and see the sign “Now Entering Oregon”. Reality sets in and you have tangible evidence of the distance you’ve covered. One major difference crossing the bridge for the “1 day”, compared with the “2 day” is they don’t stop traffic for the bikes. Instead the bikes road along the shoulder and a pace vehicle blocked up traffic and idled the length of the bridge. That sounds nice, but here’s how it actually went down.
Like a lot of bridges, the Lewis and Clark Bridge is convex, meaning you climb up towards and elevated mid-span and the descent the other half. That means the bikes are going pretty slow uphill towards the mid-span, and that pace vehicle was about 50 yards ahead of me. I was happy to ride faster, but the shoulder wasn’t big enough to pass other riders without going onto the highway. I was desperate to get in front of that pace car because it meant I’d have an entire lane of traffic open for the long 4 mile descent into Rainier, OR. I decided it was worth the hassle of weaving in and out of traffic across the bridge and did exactly that. Mentally I was feeling pretty good, my neck was getting heavy, and my feet could’ve been better. I had plenty of legs left and no saddle discomfort – but then I was faced with the toughest part of the ride: HWY 30 eastbound to Portland.
HWY 30 is always the worst part of the STP, regardless of “1 day” or “2 day” rides. It’s a continuous straight shot for over 40 miles. The pavement is rough, it’s slightly uphill in parts with a head wind. While the temperature was only in the high 70s, the head wind was the strongest I’d ever rode in for any distance.
It seemed like forever to reach St. Helens at the 170 mile point. There were cruel HWY signs that would say “St. Helens 11 miles”, then based on my bike’s computer 2 miles later another sign would say “St. Helens 11 miles”. In fairness the city of St. Helens spans HWY 30 for a few miles, so those signs weren’t completely false, but during moments of mild desperation you really want positive feedback that you’re making progress. St. Helens was the last major supported rest stop until Portland, and I was really hungry when I arrived. I did the usual routine of watering, shoving a few cookies into my face and taking my shoes off for 15 minutes. My left knee was nagging me, and without thinking much popped a couple more Alleve – which in hindsight was a pretty big screw up.
I only had 30 miles to go, but I wasn’t feeling too well. Although I’d been consistently killing a sports bottle of water every 90 minutes, I was feeling the effects of dehydration. I’d never before had any muscle craps on a ride and started to get some minor ones. It also occurred to me that I hadn’t urinated for a few hours. It wasn’t “that” hot, and I’d drank a couple gallons of water up to that point. I wasn’t dizzy and still had strength in my legs so figured I might as well finish this. I should take this opportunity to thank a random stranger for some advice. An Aussie in his late 40s, early 50s while waiting at a stop light said to me “Don’t slow down, because you’ll never get back up to speed.” That was great advice. Time was more of my enemy than physical exertion at that point. I decided to crank it up to 18mph and get done in an hour, rather than risk any more time out there with my internal organs doing whatever the $!@# they were doing.
When I saw the sign that said “Portland 10 miles” I decided I couldn’t last 30 minutes, so I made sure to go at least 20mph. I figured if I passed out at the finish line it would be ok: I would have finished, and people would be there to help. It turns out I didn’t pass out, but I did have a dilemma of wanting a mattress and a toilet at the same time.
Sorry for the gross imagery, but that’s how it happened. In hindsight I took way too much Naproxen (Alleve). That screwed my kidney and liver functions, causing symptoms of dehydration. If I were to do this again, I’d need a more comfortable shoe setup, better nutrition and no on-the-ride medication. You can get away with a lot for 100 miles, but 14 hours can magnify minor problems.
