Festive 500 Part 6: Cascade Locks ATB

Motivation to get on the bike was flagging.  I had already put in some hard rides and some that were harder than they should have been during the Festive 500 and was in need of some proper recovery time.  Setting out for another ride with the sole purpose of tallying kilometers was an unappealing prospect and I had nowhere in particular that I wanted to go.  Day six of he eight-day Festive 500 challenge quickly became a rest day.  

Day 7 would be only slightly more productive; at least in kilometric terms.  The idea was hatched over beverages while watching the Trailblazers at the local bar on Wednesday after Christmas.  Buggy and Kristina told stories about the new mountain bike trails in Cascade Locks, India was keen to try out her new handlebars and the fat tire fire was lit.  

Weather looked prime for mountain bike riding and the low-elevation terrain in Cascade Locks wouldn't be impacted by the recent snowfall that had covered other trails in the region.  Plans were laid, we met at 10am on Sunday morning and headed East out of Portland onto with four bikes and four people strapped onto and into the car.  We arrived at Cascade Locks after a brief drive, located the trailhead and layered up for the chilly, windy, near-freezing conditions on the banks of the Columbia.  

There were bones,

sweet views,

trees cleared from the trail,

and more sweet views.

Buggy rode some rocks...

and India rode a drop (in her new glasses).

We rode our fill, packed the car back up and headed back to Portland...

where we stopped at Slingshot for burgers, brunch and beverages before continuing home.  Solid.

Okay, let's do the numbers!

Today's Totals

• 14.5km
• 2:15 ride time
• 251m climbing
• 439 calories

Cumulative Totals

• 322.2km
• 16:52 ride time
• 1,969m climbing
• 9,096 calories

My two days of slacking off the distance have left me with a 178km deficit to make up in the final handful of hours before the end of 2012.  This 110mi gap could only be traversed by a massive geologic event or a steel truss cantilever bridge.  Either way, I'm heading back out to the Gorge toward the Bridge of the Gods tomorrow.

Festive 500 Part 5: Peninsula Cruise

Unlike several other days of the Festive 500 so far when I've been in full holiday mode, I actually had some responsibilities, work, chores and errands to attend to on Friday the 28th.  Time and motivation for anything more than an easy leg-stretcher of a ride were not to be found, so I set out for a mellow cruise around the Peninsula.  I hoped to clock 40km after lunch before getting back to work.  Turns out that would be harder than I thought.  

I started the ride by heading east on Ainsworth toward 33rd Drive, one of the connectors that makes a safe crossing of the chaotic truck route of Columbia Blvd.

Descending the ramp off 33rd over Columbia is always a thrill.

I rode through the Argyle industrial complex to one of my favorite hidden cut-throughs for a little gravel.

Cruised along the waterway, spotted some ducks.

After re-emerging from the unnamed cut-through onto 33rd, I turned North toward Marine Drive, pausing briefly on the bridge over the bike path to admire the view of Mt. Hood looming over the Portland airport, a rare and inspiring sight this time of year.  I wasn't heading any farther east this day, so I took a left onto Marine Drive and headed back to the West along the Columbia.

This is one really good reason to love Oregon.

I took the slight detour off Marine Drive onto Bridgeton Road after passing the Portland Yacht Club and found another group of geese who had taken over a soccer field with their honking and pooping.

Two fluffy, white dogs came and chased the flock to the other side of the field shortly after I put the camera back in my pocket.

Floating homes, boathouses and sailboats on Bridgeton.

I reconnected with Marine Drive and connected to the bike path at the I-5 junction.  A new craft was parked next Jean, to the rusty old heap that has been docked along the bank in the same spot since I've lived in Portland.

I'm not sure of the classification of this vessel but she looks like she could take a beating.

View from the bike path.

I connected to the Portland Road bike path and headed South towards St. Johns, dodging broken glass on my way to the Slough trail and into Kenton.  

Just as I was about to descend the left-hand bend from road level onto the Slough Trail, I was stopped by a white-haired gentlemen wearing a striped sweater and ratty tights, carrying three panniers between the two racks on his old, steel touring bike.  "Stop!" he said.  I stopped.  "Just wanted'a let you know, I just told those fellers too, (referring to a pair of workers in a City of Portland pickup) there's a dog down there, didn't see an owner, looks like he's got some pit in 'im, runnin' around pissin' like he owns the place.  Now, I ain't one to be scared of a dog but I'm goin' around.  Just lettin' you know, if you go through there, go through with some authority."  Okay, I said.  Never one to be scared of a dog myself, I thanked him for the heads-up and headed on my way as he pedaled away in the opposite direction with his squeaky chain.  I unfastened the strap on my frame pump just in case I needed to give the offending canine a firm whack and kept my eyes peeled and camera ready to capture a photo of this notorious hound.  

See any dogs?

I scanned the brush to the right of the trail but saw neither hide nor hair of the mysterious beast.  Weird. I continued on the Slough Trail along bluff between the Slough and the Heron Lakes golf course and stopped to try to photograph some waterfowl for later identification.  The pocket camera's weak zoom didn't help much in that regard and the photos aren't even worth posting here.    

Slough Trail

I exited the slough trail, realized I had clocked less than 20km, was nearly home and would have to tack on a bit of extra distance if I wanted to get close to my goal for the day.  Ugh.  Instead of heading South through Kenton, I headed past the Portland Meadows horse track on Schmeer Road and took a right on Vancouver Ave where I found myself pursued by a giant mechanical fire-breathing insect:

Yikes!

I zigzagged through the neighborhoods, ran the Lombard St. gauntlet over I-5 and coasted down Interstate Ave to Kenton, then on through more neighborhood streets to make my final catsitting visit to Peanut Butter before his parents returned home from their family vacation.  By the time I made it home, I had tallied a piddling 34km but felt fairly refreshed by the chilly air and dry roads.  With ride #5 in the books, let's do the numbers!

Today's Totals:

• 34.2km
• 1:31 ride time
• 154m climbing
• 982 calories

Cumulative Totals:

• 307.7km
• 14:37 ride time
• 1,718m climbing
• 8,657 calories

So, 200k to go with three days remaining.  Frankly, I'm getting a little tired of bike paths, catsitting and the close-to-home medium-distance rides that are usually the staples of my off-season diet.  Perhaps the time has come to take things up a notch and plan a big, adventurous ride to end this challenge and the year of 2012 in a haze of suffering or blaze of glory.  Maybe a trip to the Gorge is in order...  

Festive 500 Part 4: Border Crossing

I was up past my bedtime after meeting some friends to watch the Trailblazers game at the local watering hole the night before, so I woke feeling yawny and with a vaguely familiar soreness in my right acchilles, sometimes a sign that I'm trying to push my legs too hard before they're ready.  Honestly, I haven't done a good job of recovering properly after rides during the challenge so far.  The amount of time spent stretching or massaging has been minimal and probably has a lot to do with the twinges in my ankle and low energy levels.

Weather conditions looked ripe, however.  Bands of blue sky were visible between the bands of morning clouds and NOAA predicted only a 24% chance of rain through midday.  Looked like a perfect day for a comfortable 60km and a good stretch and legs-up couch session with a good book on returning home.

 I looked about as tired as I felt on the northbound trip past the Portland International Raceway and Expo Center to pick up the I-5 bike path for a trip across the border into Washington. 

Wetlands on the Peninsula are swollen this time of year.

Handy homebrewed directional markings on the confusing interchange of bike paths.  

After navigating the awkward transition between bike path and road at the Jantzen Beach intersection I reached the foot of the I-5 bridge over the Columbia, ready to make the northbound crossing.

Don't worry, I'll be back.

This particular bridge has been the subject of much political debate in recent years as prospects and ideas for its replacement have been bandied about in governmental chambers on both sides of the border with little consensus or progress and a phenomenal expenditure of funds.  Sound familiar?  I don't consider myself politically active but - at least from my cyclist's perspective - this crossing is definitely broken and needs a proper redesign with non-automotive users considered as part of the plan.  This is what happens when bikes and pedestrians are left out of the transportation plan:

Barely enough room for a pair of 42cm handlebars on the narrow bridge sidewalk.

I've had a handful of difficult interactions with pedestrians and other riders on this stretch of bridge.  The main problems are the narrow space that all users are squeezed into and the fact that it isn't a one-way street.  North and Southbound users share the path on the East side of the bridge.  Noise from heavy car and truck traffic reverberating through the steel beams compounds the problem.  Even very loud bike bells have little chance of being heard over the roar, so there's no good way to inform a pedestrian of your approach without scaring them out of their socks and feeling like a jerk.  

Running the gauntlet...

The view to the East; peaceful counterpoint to the often stressful crossing experience.  Mt. Hood's presence can be felt, even when it's invisible.

This particular crossing was no exception.  I was less than five feet from a nice guy out for a walk in his hooded sweatshirt and headphones when he stopped and reached down to pick up a discarded coffee cup from the sidewalk tread.  I slowed nearly to a halt and said, "excuse me, sir!" in the kindest sub-shout voice I could muster as.  He looked up with a smile, apologized at the same time I did and I squeezed by.  I exited the bridge and headed East along the quiet waterfront road through the light industrial zone of Vancouver.  Where that road dead-ends into a gated condominium development, a waterfront bike path begins.

Empty path along the Columbia.

The bike path ends at a waterfront park with a sandy beach that would make a great summertime destination.  I made a mental note to return on a hot day and turned inland.

This hump up to the railroad tracks was the main climb on this flat ride.

I rode through the neighborhoods eastward toward the Evergreen Highway, a poorly maintained cracked and patched road connecting Vancouver and the small riverside towns of Camas and Washougal.  I didn't need to tally up a huge number of kilometers on this day and my legs were already starting to feel a little heavy so I rode out to Fisher Cemetery where a number of early Washington settlers are buried to enjoy the sun and a snack.  In fact, the sun was warm enough that I was able to take my gloves off and enjoy the breeze on bare fingers; and uncommon pleasure for winter in the Northwest.

Sunshine on the Veterans' monument at Fisher Cemetery.

After my break and snack, I about-faced on the Evergreen Highway, dodged cracks and poorly patched pavement and headed back towards the I-205 bridge to return to Oregon.

Westbound on the Evergreen, I-205 in the distance.

Compared to the I-5 crossing, the I-205 bike patch is certainly less claustrophobic but no less noisy.  Even during times of light traffic, the din of internal combustion (and studded tires in season) is enough to drown out even shouted conversation.  However, the experience of emerging from the under-bridge bike path, up the ramp and into the middle of the bridge deck is exhilarating, to be sure.

The view as you reach bridge level.

Welcome Back!

The view to the East.  Clouds are lighter, but still no view of the mountain.

After riding the roller-coaster of humpy concrete between the highway lanes and making landfall back in the great state of Oregon, I continued South on the 205 bike path where I came across this silhoutte:

I expected the red-tailed hawk to take off as soon as I approached, but the semi-juvenile (according to my sub-amateur estimation) seemed content to sit on his perch and survey the green spaces between road, path and warehouses.

I was able to fire off several photos before the hawk thought about taking flight.  I was more afraid that my camera battery would fail before I could capture an image of the raptor spreading its wings.

Then, away he went.  

I continued on down the 205 bike path and reminded myself why I typically avoid it.  The path is littered with trash, broken glass, discarded clothing and often interrupted by busy thoroughfares heading  West into Portland's city center that can only be crossed by pressing the crosswalk button and waiting for the traffic control devices to stem the flow of traffic.  As I navigated the path and its inhabitants, I wound up distracted from my destination and continued a little too far South.  My powers of comprehension were dulled by my lack of calorie consumption on the day and I only realized my mistake when I started to see signs for Oregon City.  Oops.  I exited the path, turned back to the North and wound my way through the dirty streets of far East Portland, played Frogger crossing 82nd Avenue and picked up Clinton Street to cruise back into town.  

Happy to be back in a pleasant neighborhood after the slums off 82nd.

I refueled with a couple of bags of airline peanuts and the last nibbles of PB&J while cruising on the mellow downgrades of Clinton Street, heading into Southeast Portland.  

Clinton led to the tree-lined lanes of Ladd's Addition.

I was happy to have made it back to town and was feeling much more depleted than I should have after a flat, 60km ride.  The fact that I hadn't recovered properly from previous rides was now abundantly clear and I resolved to take care of my body and legs after this one.  

I'm not sure if I look more or less tired in this end-of-ride photo than the first...

Okay, ride four is in the books.  Let's do the numbers:

Today's Totals:

• 64.9km
• 3:01 ride time
• 447m climbing
• 1890 calories

Cumulative Totals:

• 273.5km (over halfway there!)
• 13:06 ride time
• 1,564m climbing
• 7,675 calories

Tomorrow will be a recovery day.  I'm hoping for 40km and a continuing recovery before cranking up the miles for an emphatic end in the final days of the challenge.  

Festive 500 Part 3: Sauvie Island

I woke feeling rested after a good night's sleep on Christmas and was keen to shake off yesterday's poor showing and put on some distance.  Weather looked favorable for an outing to Sauvie Island as the winds were mild.  Gusty days are torment out on the exposed flatlands of the island, situated in the corner of the Columbia/Willamette wind tunnel.  If it's breezy in town, you had better bring sails to the island.  This makes for good training if you're looking to build leg strength and hone your aero position, but I'm not there yet.  Solitude and flat roads were the main factors driving me to Sauvie Island this day.  

I donned an extra layer beyond the kit I had worn the day before, even though the thermometer showed a few extra degrees of warmth and the sky only spat a heavy drizzle rather than the frigid downpour of Christmas.  I was not interested in being cold and intended to keep myself toasty and warm despite the wet conditions.  The blood vessels in my arms stayed much happier with an extra set of sleeves protecting them from the wind chill and I was able to start the ride with a light pair of gloves.  I did keep the insulated and waterproof mitts in my jersey pocket as an insurance policy against frost-nipped fingertips, but was never to need them.  My new tights did an admirable job of keeping the rain from penetrating too deeply into my muscles as I spun out Willamette Blvd toward St. Johns.  The material and construction of these tights could make them perfect for winter training in Portland.  Look for a more through review soon.

 There were plenty of puddles to splash through.  One of these days I'll build myself a proper rain bike.

I crossed the St. Johns Bridge onto old Dirty 30 to find the industrial zone humming with renewed activity after a brief Christmas quietude and pedaled through the blasts of spray from dump trucks and tractor-trailers back on the job.  The peaceful part of the ride began after crossing under the rusty arches of the Sauvie Island bridge.

Sauvie Island is the largest island along the Columbia River (larger than Manhattan, for scale), is part agricultural area, part wildlife sanctuary/hunting preserve and provides enough miles of flat, low-traffic roads for even hardy riders to leave the island with a tired bottom.  The beaches (some of them clothing-optional) are a big draw in the summertime.  This is what the view looked like for most of the southern half of the island:

In addition to flooded fields there are lots of cows, horses, sheep, goats and wild birds to provide entertainment on the completely flat and often dead-straight roads.  I was fortunate that no sections of road were completely flooded on this particular day.

I made the southeastern half of the Gillihan Road loop and turned right onto Reeder Road to make the long out-and-back journey to the beaches on the island's Eastern shore.  The road turns to dirt(!) partway through and was in excellent shape with only a few potholes and minimal washboarding.  I lost no momentum over the smooth bands of hardpack where the car tires pack the loose gravel into the muddy soil and kept a comfortably light cadence with the help of an almost undetectable tailwind.

I came across a huge flock of geese hanging out in a roadside field.  Geese are all too common around the Northwest this time of year, leave their grassy turds all over the riverside roads and paths and are not among my favorite sights, but the size of this flock warranted a stop.  Tack 6 identical frames onto the left edge of the photo below and you'll have some idea of the scale.  This was a lot of honking birds.

I straddled my machine on the muddy roadside, trying to capture the size of the flock in a panoramic photo when - coordinated by some indeciperable signal - the whole crew decided to take off and head on a little farther south.  The rushing cacophony of thousands of beating wings and honking beaks was as loud as a small helicopter and unlike anything I've heard before.

Away they went to brave the hunters' shotguns on their long flight to warmer weather down south. Godspeed.

I headed back down the road and passed this sign, which actually tells the truth unlike most similar signs seen on bike rides.  Never trust a Dead End sign.  

This really is the end of the road unless you have a hunting permit and a good pair of boots.  Sadly, no bikes allowed.

I stopped to eat half of my peanut butter & jelly sandwich and enjoy the quiet.  I couldn't stay long without losing too much body heat, so I quickly resaddled my steed and turned back South for the return trip.

I followed Reeder Road across the island to the west side and its intersection with Sauvie Island Road, which leads along Multnomah Channel and back to the bridge over to Highway 30.

After a quick run South through Linnton on Highway 30 I climbed the ramp to cross under the iconic gothic arches of the St. Johns Bridge back to the East side of the Willamette River toward home.

Continuing the catsitting trend, I stopped through the Arbor Lodge neighborhood to check in on Peanut Butter who told me about his mellow Christmas at home while we did yoga poses and perused the motorcycle accessory catalog that had come in the mail.  Then on home to strip off wet layers, take a warm shower, eat a dinner of Christmas leftovers and watch the Trailblazers in a grudge match with the Sacramento Kings.  

And now - as they say on a particular radio program - let's do the numbers:

Cumulative Totals:

• 208.6km
• 10:05 ride time
• 1,117m climbed
• 5,785 calories 

Despite the lost kilometers from our Christmas misadventure, I'm on a good pace with five days of riding still to come.  With any luck I'll be over the halfway mark tomorrow and will have at least a couple of recovery days before ending the challenge with a bang on New Year's Eve.