A couple months ago I was driving around out in the mountains looking for a spot to go hiking. East of Seattle about 80 miles I got off the interstate and drove through the town of Cle Elum. From this high plateau I followed highway 98 through a beautiful canyon. As I drove along this road I couldn’t stop thinking about how great this road would be on my road bike. There is barely any traffic, no signs of human existence for 40 miles, and the road is a continuous series of hills--not hills, but mountain passes. You are constantly warned that tire chains are required on this road throughout the winter months.
I finally got around to riding this road yesterday with a girlfriend of mine who is a fantastic cyclist. We ditched my car at the far end of the canyon and started riding back up the way we came. I was setting the pace at a respectable 12.5 mph up the steep incline. I knew within the first 2 miles that I was in for a long day. In French cycling parlance I was having what is known as “un jour sans” or a day without. Without what is whatever you want to call it: guts, nuts, energy, cojones, whatever. I didn’t have it. I kept up the pace because I’m a stupid macho idiot. I kept saying that I was OK and I continued setting the pace. I was pretty miserable but this is how I have fun.
This canyon is extremely beautiful and even though I was suffering considerably I could appreciate everything around me. The road is in great shape and is tailor-made for cycling because it has a big shoulder and there is hardly any traffic. What the road doesn’t have is a single foot of level terrain. You are either going up or going down.
The first section is a steady 10 mile climb--10 miles up without a single break. Some of it is quite steep. In the steepest sections there is an extra lane on the highway for the vehicles that struggle with the climb. It was also a completely cloudless day and we baked in the 90 degree heat.
We had planned to go 20 miles out before heading back but I confessed that 40 miles of pain didn't didn’t sound like fun for me today. We decided that 15 was a good number which made for a 30 miles trek. I wasn’t paying very close attention on the drive in and I thought that it was a continuous climb and that when we hit our mark of 15 miles we would simply turn around and pedal back down to the car. At 10 miles the road went down. It went down hard and fast. We were hitting speeds of up to 45 mph for the next five miles down. When we hit 15 miles we stopped and turned around.
I really needed the downhill section as I was dying on that climb but now we had to go back up a five mile stretch that was much, much steeper than anything on the first 10 mile climb.
We broke this leg down into one mile increments. We would ride a mile, find a bit of shade, get a drink, and then start pedaling again. The last two segments really kicked our asses. I was swearing loudly and our speed dropped to an embarrassing 7-8 mph. All I could think about was how in the hell do they race up shit like this in the Tour de France?
When we reached the summit, and all that stood between us and the car was a 10 mile downhill, we took another short break. After drinking the last of our water we got into the biggest gear and screamed down through the canyon. Even going downhill we worked pretty hard through this section. We were pedaling pretty much flat out the whole way.
I love cycling but I was really fucking ready for this ride to be over. We leaned the bikes against the car and headed for the stream a few feet away. I stripped down and eased myself into a deep pool of water that was snow a short while ago. I don’t think I have ever felt better than I did at that moment when I finally submerged myself in that pool.
I would have a hard time saying what was the high point of that day: resting in that freezing pool, having a beer in a cool bar in Cle Elum after the ride, or this Shakespeare sonnet we read on the drive back to Seattle.
Farewell, thou are too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate.
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where in my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon misprison growing,
Comes home again, or better judgment making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
LOOKING WEST TOWARDS THE CASCADES
