C’mon, Geoff. The suspense is killing us. Keep going… another instalment, please. I don’t care if the ink’s still wet.
Cheers,
Eoin
Part FOUR (The conclusion)
Part FOUR
Grand Ronde Pow Wow grounds: Mile 76M. Mmm, lunch. The line was shorter and the food oh so much better. Vegetarian chili and vegan cheese. “Vegetarian chili” and “vegan cheese” have got to be oxymorons. Oh well, at least the cheese was bright orange. That’s how I knew it was cheese. A few pieces of lettuce, some cookies and let’s see, an egg? Sure, why not? I do my best to maintain my translucent blue skin by embalming myself further with another hefty dollop of white goop.
They were having some plumbing difficulties at the water table but nothing that prevented me from filling up my camelback. Now, I know what you’re wondering. There I am after 76 miles feeling the fatigue, with 28 miles to go. Did I go over to the dark side and start snorting lines of Emergen-C? No, no, no. Not me. Now, I do admit that the idea was tempting. I’ve always wanted to blend into the crowd, be one of the gang. But that is one line I was not yet ready to cross. But a little of that bright yellow sparkling powder poured into my camelback wouldn’t hurt, would it? I mean, it’s not like I’m snorting it!
No time to waste. The clock is ticking. Back on the road. The terrain is mostly flat and the wind is trying to beat me back into the coast range. Being so much taller than the bicyclists makes drafting them useless. That didn’t stop one bicyclist from drafting ME. Yikes, dude! Get off my tail. We’d both go down fast with one little nick or a hiccup on my part. I take evasive maneuvers and ride in the middle of the lane as long as there is no traffic. I slow down. Eventually he realizes that I am not a suitable wind break and he moves on.
A few more miles and the last hill of the day starts wearing me down. It’s one of those sneaker hills. Only about 300’ and mostly a very gentle rise that makes me want to stay in high gear. After 80 miles, pedaling in high gear up even a gentle hill is brutal. What do I care? My legs are already trashed. What do I have to lose? Down shifting to protect my legs at this point would be kind of like a paraplegic wearing a seatbelt. I pedal slowly, down shifting only for the last half mile of the hill when it gets steep. I do my best to pass two bicyclist on the way up. I reach the top and see a handful of bicyclists taking a break at the top. Not me, no way. Back into high gear and I ease on down the road a few more miles to the last rest stop. We’re in the thick of the lush coastal river country. Ferns, alders, Sitka spruce, Douglas fir make up most of the flora. Most of this is relatively sheltered from the wind. I can do this. Another half hour or so and I reach the last popsicle stand at mile 89. Loads and loads of cookies to be had by all. WTF? Where are the eggs? I come 89 miles and there are no eggs? How do they expect me to finish the ride? Who organized this? Off with their heads! It takes me a few moments but I regain my composure. I have a few more cookies. Deep breath. A tall biker (I mean a biker who was tall, not a biker with a tall bike.) and I are talking. He warns me of the strong head winds in this last leg. I have nightmares of riding in low gear on the flats. “No problem, you’re an Iron Man!” he says. That was almost as good as the cheer leaders in Willamina. I don’t need no stinking eggs! I don’t need no stinking low gear! I’m an IRON MAN! Out of my way bikers. I’m going to eat up that road. As I leave, I see that the tall bikers (You know, the ones with the bikes that are tall and who may or may not actually be tall themselves. Get it?) are at this rest stop waiting for one of their brethren to fix a flat. I’ve got the jump on them. I hit the road. I’m so burley I don’t even need my 19th coat of latex paint. I’m on a mission. Nothing can stop me now.
I get back on and start pedaling. Ouch my ass hurts. Almost as much as my back. The aero bars with the elbow rests really help me redistribute the wait on my seat, but being crouched over all day takes a toll on my back. That’s OK. I’m an Iron Man. I feel no pain, except for the pain associated with every little freaking bump in the road pounding on my taint and sitzbones and crimping my lumbar spine. AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH! I white knuckle it, grit my teeth and pedal. Pedal. Pedal. Three miles down the road and the tall bikers catch up with me. Right about then the road parallels the Little Nestucca River. The river bottom is wide with few trees. The wind seizes its opportunity. That’s OK. Now I’ve got someone tall enough to effectively draft. Yea, Team Jet Stream! A whole line of them. Woo Hoo! This increased efficiency comes at a steep cost, though. Their pace is quicker than mine. If I stay close enough to them they break the wind enough that I can just hang on. That lasts for about three miles before they leave me behind. I just couldn’t maintain that pace.
Shortly thereafter I see somebody up ahead wiggling in an odd way. Really odd. I gain some distance. Weird posture too. A unicyclist??? I come up alongside of him and say “hi”. He’s a bit startled to see me, another unicyclist there riding next to him. He says “hi” but the shoulder is non-existent and there’s a car coming up behind us. I pull up in front of him and look back. He’s riding a brand new KH 29 with a brake. I have no idea who this guy is. I don’t see a number on his uni or his back. I don’t even know if he’s in the ride. Some random unicyclist on his way to the beach? Weirdo. I’ve got no time to stop and chit chat. I’m going to the beach. I leave him behind, not finding out who this guy is.
There are about 10 miles left. Had this been a 100 mile course, I’d be only 6 miles from the finish, but a few years back they rerouted the course and added 4 miles. Fortunately they added the 4 miles on to the beginning of the course, back when we were fresh and riding four miles was a piece of cake. Thank god they didn’t add the extra miles on to the end of the course when each mile is worth about 5. Besides, had they added the four miles to the end of the course, we’d have to be riding amphibious contraptions. Whole nuther story that would be.
A bike passes me. “Did you start in Portland?” “Yep.” “Dude! You’re a man among boys.” Oh yeah, that makes my back feel just a tiny bit better. It makes my legs feel just a tiny bit stronger. I WILL reach the beach.
A couple more miles down the road and the river straightens out and widens into flat river delta terrain. Up ahead I see another wiggler. Not just a regular wiggler, but a bright green and purple wiggler. Within a few minutes I catch up to Zeke. “Where have you been?” The story went something like this: he fell behind at a hill early on and so decided to make up some time by skipping every other snack break. While Team Jet Stream were eating cookies and eggs, Zeke kept riding and passed everyone. Zeke can RUN a hundred miles, so riding a hundred miles is as easy as pie. Need to make up time? No problem. Just stop every 25 miles instead of every 12. In his tree frog suit, he didn’t even have pockets to stuff cookies into. Talk about “a man among boys”.
Mystery solved, we part ways and I move on. I can smell the salt air. The sky has taken on that hazy coastal hue. A few more miles and we reach highway 101. The local sheriff has stopped traffic to allow the bicyclists to cross. I quicken my pace as much as I can in order to catch up to a few bicyclists. I’m the last one to cross before the sheriff stops the bicyclists and lets the traffic resume. Then it’s on to the left side of the road that has been coned off. Only one way traffic is allowed on this road. For once, we don’t have to compete with traffic; we have the entire lane to ourselves. We follow it into Pacific City. Residents are lining the road cheering us on, celebrating every dollar that the 2000+ bicyclists and two+ unicyclists spend here. They’ve got a lot to celebrate. I revel in their cheers. I don’t care if they’re cheering me on for all the wrong reasons. Who am I to criticize?
A turn and a final few blocks through town, a left turn and I’m through the finish line. I’ve REACHED THE BEACH! WOOOO HOOOO!!!
I get some celebratory pictures taken on the beach. The pain began to fade as I bask in the glory. I felt awesome. Until I tried to bend down and loosen my shoes, an act that required me to bend my back and both of my knees. All at the same time. OUCH! Yeah, that was 104 miles all right. Twenty minutes later and Zeke arrives. I retrieve my care package, unwrap my flask and we have multiple swigs of Scottish mother’s milk. Single malt scotch has always been my drink of choice but for my next century I’ll be sure to splurge on some double malt scotch. Twice as good. Then it’s off to dinner. I pile on the sautéed veggies and chicken, and some more yummy food and then some more food that was pretty good. I have no idea what it was, I just gobbled it. This is where they’ve been hiding that gourmet chef all day. And then there were the brownies. Not bite sized brownies, but giant brownies. And right next to the brownies…yes! cans of whipped cream. Mmmm, big beautiful brownies piled high with leaning towers of whipped cream. And to top it off a Belgian ale made by Pelicans in Oregon. I think they import the Belgians straight from Belgium. That’s why they called it a Belgian ale. Oh yeah, and a stout too. Something dark and gooey. It was made by Pelicans too.
And not a zombie in sight. The sunscreen must have worked.
Pics:
Drafting Team Jet Stream through the coast range.
The Beach be REACHED!
Proud papa Zeke getting the best reward.
Somebody else’s more trustworthy odometer.
That was a truly epic write up, Geoff. Very entertaining 
I enjoyed every minute of reading that!
Excellent effort, Geoff, and a write-up as good as the ride itself. The Kittens remain eternally grateful.
Cheers,
Eoin
Write up review: *****
Inspirational and Fun! Enjoyed the write up so much I read it out loud, theatrically with feeling, to the whole (just my wife and I) family…
Epilogue
Epilogue
Our wheels were loaded into UHaul rental trucks. We were loaded into comfy tour buses and headed back to Portland. I reached Cyclop’s house around 11 pm, had another dinner, a shower and made it to bed by midnight. Whew, what a day!
Stats: (for those who care) Distance: 104 miles. Total time: 9 hours 20 minutes. Ride time: about 7 hours 45 minutes (I gotta break 9 hours next time.)
Thanks to all of the riders on Unicyclist.com who helped make this possible. They each generously donated to the anti-smoking kitten brigade (too late for the cats, they’ve made their decisions). Thanks to the cheerleaders in Willamina. Thanks to the residents of Pacific City for cheering on every hard-earned tourist dollar. Thanks to Zeke and Brycer for making the ride and keeping me company, however briefly. Thanks to Team Jet Stream for breaking wind, I mean breaking the wind, and being all round cool dudes. Thanks to some giant multinational agribusiness conglomerate that produced about 2 million of those two inch cookies in assorted flavors that tasted remarkably similar. Thanks to the hens who laid all of those eggs and the oompa loompas who boiled them and served them with love in their hearts. Thanks to Cyclops and family for being my support family and providing me with a home away from home. It’s a very homey home. I make myself right at home there. Thanks to Florian, Pete and Cory who together separately provided me with my unicycle and handle bars. And a very special thanks to the makers of Vaseline for making my Schlumpf shifting so smooth and easy.
The donors: Brycer1968, PKittle, Magnustudios, Maestro8, SpaceFmK, blueharmony, EoinC, Cyclops
Thanks guys.
All post-century ride write-ups should be so complete and witty… . . Thanks Geoff.
Cheers,
Brycer
Holy smokes, I didn’t even know this was going to be a value-added service.
Great reads, thanks for that.
Adendum
Oh yeah, I just remembered. Thanks also to Brycer for the Maggie brake that I got from him last year. It’s the best. If you’re looking for a brake, he’s the man.
+5 I just got my 5th set from Brycer! All work great.
mbalmer,
You are such an over achiever! You put us all to shame.
That’s OK - I can under-achieve sufficiently to retain the net balance.
I would only put you to shame if I could ride them all at the same time:D.
It doesn’t matter how many brake sets I have. Any of you could outride me (dang it). My point is that you won’t get jipped getting brakes from Brycer. Quality stuff.