It gets easier

With a new approach to keeping my body fueled and balanced, I set off from Issaquah yesterday morning for my first major climb to Snoqualmie Pass in the Cascade Mountains. After a short, but epically steep climb (18% for 1.2 miles!) into the new neighborhoods of the town of Snoqualmie, I flew down a steep descent into the valley to the “old” town of Snoqualmie, which sits in the valley of the same name. I rode for 5 miles on a gravel path that is the Snoqualmie Valley Trail, and, at mile 25, joined the Palouse to Cascades State Park trail and began the 25-mile ascent to the pass. The climb itself was actually not difficult as this was a “rails to trails” path. By necessity, railway lines cannot be too steep (even for the little engine that could), and thus the grade was no steeper than 3%. Mind you, even a shallow grade is difficult when you are riding on gravel and you are climbing for 25 miles. Despite the effort, I felt great.

Today was a long day, an 82-mile ride to a small (I mean really small) town called Vantage, overlooking the Columbia River. Looking at the elevation profile, most of the day was downhills, so I thought it would be easy. Descending was indeed much easier than climbing, but the first 50 miles were entirely on a gravel trail. I had to be extra cautious, especially after mile 33, when the trail’s gravel changed from packed to loose. Very loose. As I struggled at times to keep my balance, I vowed I would write a haiku about the experience:

Descending slowly
MIle after mile of loose gravel
I hear Jeff White’s* voice

We camped last night at an elevation of 2,550 feet. I descended for most of the morning and early afternoon to about 1,600 feet. From the elevation profile of today’s route, I did not appreciate that I would gain all of that elevation back (plus more) on the 10-mile climb in the hills overlooking the Columbia River. At least the ascent was on asphalt. The afternoon was hot (in the 90s) but I looked forward to the 12-mile descent to Vantage that I knew followed the climb. I had a sweet tail wind that made the climb less torturous and started the descent with glee. I tucked my head and built up my speed to close to 30 mph. But then, in one of those cruel twists of bicycle touring fate, as I progressed further to the east, the wind changed direction and I was hit with a strong headwind. After 70 miles of cycling, I was deprived of my easy downhill ride as I found myself having to work hard just to go downhill.

* This inside joke requires an explanation: After I broke my pelvis in three places in the summer of 2019 following losing my balance and falling violently on a short gravel stretch on my commute to work, my colleague and friend Jeff White would occasionally warn me to stay away from gravel. These warnings became more frequent in the weeks leading up to this trip. Now, whenever I ride on gravel, I hear Jeff’s voice. Thank you, Jeff!