Party Poodles on Parade!

Only the single day riders (yes some people do the whole 207 mile ride in 1 day) were allowed to leave before 5:30am; this meant our goal was to leave before 5:45am. Half our group had never done a century before and we wanted to maximize our chances of getting to the halfway point, Centralia, at a decent time.

With this in mind we set our alarms for a reasonable 4:45am. However, Adam and his strong central-time-calibrated circadian rhythm, awoke at an unreasonable 4am. He proceeded to watch Disc Golf for 45 minutes.

At 4:48am Annabel messaged the group “Helen and I are awake :)”

Adam looked over and noticed that Matt was still sleeping. Odd. He must have missed his 4:45am alarm. Well, time is of the essence, better wake him up.

So Adam stepped out of bed and gently hovered his hand over Matt’s shoulder. The moment Adam’s hand made contact with Matt’s shoulder, Matt’s alarm clock began blaring. “I’m up!” Matt exclaimed. Then, being two dudes well trained by society to bottle their emotions we both played it cool and pretended that nothing was weird and neither of us were startled.

Adam would later learn that Matt prefers to set his alarm at odd intervals. We’re still not sure why, but best not to question Matt’s eccentricities.

Now awake, we chugged our canned coffees and choked down some sad cold pop tarts, then packed our bags and made it to the bag drop. We were a little slow to move and our final launch time was at 6:16am. 

We set off to cheers and cowbells. Police officers held traffic for us as we descended out of Seattle, gliding along the waters edge. The weather was not too hot, not too cold, and it was clear we were in for a beautiful ride. About 10 miles into the trip there was a sign for free scones, bacon and jam. Unfortunately, the group was focused on the mission to make it to Centralia by early afternoon; so we blew by it. However, Adam is never one to pass up a chance to eat bacon. So upon realizing the error of his ways he busted a quick U-turn to pedal back to the stand while the rest of the group continued on.

Adam exchanged pleasantries with a nice older couple who volunteered their morning to serve homemade scones to STP riders, complete with homemade blueberry jam and crispy bacon. Adam smiled with every bite. Happy with his decision he thanked the nice couple, and hopped back on his bike. Now faced with the challenge of catching up to the poodle pack, he pedaled like a Tour de France champion. Once back with the group he made sure to let everyone know how delicious the scone was.

Around the 50 mile mark we cheered for our party poodle compatriot, Phyllis, when she set a new distance PR! We were all impressed. Anyone can do a double century if they train enough, but doing a double century having only ever ridden 50 miles... now that’s a challenge! On the other hand it was a little concerning since we still had 150 miles to go. Adam, truly content to stop and enjoy the scenery, decided to hang back and keep an eye on Phyllis. While Phyllis’ resolve never wavered, around the 70 mile mark it became clear that her body was beginning to rebel. Maybe let’s take a break; Phyllis and Adam agreed, as they pulled over at a random store to sit down and catch their breath. 

“I think I’m seeing stars” Phyllis said, a little dazed.  

“Do you want some candy? Sometimes when I see stars it’s because I’m not eating enough sugar.” Adam politely suggested. Having gone through this with Helen multiple times, Adam had a strong suspicion that Phyllis's energy was suddenly dropping because she wasn’t consuming the recommended 60 grams of carbs per-hour that long distance cycling requires. This is such a common phenomenon in endurance cycling that there's a term for it, "bonking".

“I have some cliff gummies” Phyllis assured Adam as she nibbled on a couple. And what do you know– a little sugar, some rest, and Phyllis energy returned. So we got on the bikes to catch up to the group who were waiting at the next rest stop. We pedaled for about 1000 feet before the turn off.

“You’re telling me the whole time we were only 1000 feet from you?” Adam laughed, realizing that he and Phyllis could have pushed through to take a break at a proper rest stop.

We ate more at the rest stop and the group emphasized the importance of carbs. Then we got back on the bikes and Phyllis sped away, leading the group for good portions of the ride.  

Soon Adam saw a sign for pickles and cheese. Adam, loving these types of stops, let the pack continue on and pulled over to accept a toothpick with a piece of pickle and a ball of cheese from a smiling lady. Adam usually doesn't love pickles but this was a surprisingly good one and paired with the cheese it was a nice, salty combo. 

After eating it all in one bite, Adam looked around for a bucket to drop his toothpick. Sensing his confusion the pickle lady proudly stated “And that’s a wooden toothpick so you can just throw it anywhere!”

Can’t argue with that logic, Adam thought as he chucked the toothpick in the grass and got back on the bike to again catch up to the group.

Around the 95 mile mark we had one more roadside stop. A delicious pink lemonade stop run by an old man who exuded a kind, I’ve-been-alive-too-many-years-and-lived-too-good-a-life-to-think-a-negative-thought type of energy. His farm had been in his family since 1850 and he made a delicious pink lemonade. Unfortunately we didn’t have time to dilly dally because half our group was ahead of us.

We got back on the bikes and soon accomplished the day's goal. We passed the half-way point and made it to our stop for the night.

We were all happy with our achievement, and being very hungry Adam decided to order a margarita pizza from a tasty looking wood fired pizza truck. 30 later minutes we were handed what appeared to be a cheesy cracker decorated with tomato chunks. If we had been in Italy it probably would have been a civil offense.

“Is the pizza good?” Matt asked point blank.

“No.” Adam responded matter of factly. It was edible, but to call it good would be a lie.

Author's note: While this one was bad, the title of Worst Pizza Ever remains with the abominable black sesame pizza we had in Seoul, South Korea. We didn't blog about it, but Matt and Ali may recall...

After our disappointing pizza we biked 2 more miles to our sleeping arrangements, a nearby church that set up their carpeted gymnasium to sleep STP riders. Adam questioned why anyone would carpet a basketball court. They used cubicle dividers to separate the men’s and women’s side of the church gymnasium with twin blow up mattresses in an efficient grid. They had communal showers, and for dinner they served baked potatoes with chili and all the typical fixins. It was great fuel after a looong day of biking and was much better than our dry "pizza".