Native Planet Classic - June 11

Convinced SO to come (took quite a bit and promise to stay in an incredibly nice log cabin in the woods). Arrived Friday night so we could peruse the area and scope out the route some.

Met the vice-prez of Native Planet, Jean Phillippe who is wonderfully passionate about NPn Saturday afternoon. I promise to try for the metric century but admit I am inexperienced and under-trained. I ask nervously about SAG. :o

http://www.nativeplanet.org/

Winthrop, the start, is beautiful - still lush from recent unseasonal rainy weather. Pine forests, glacial creeks, pasture, rocky hills. Beautiful in ways Seattle isn't. I love it there. But it is raining. :confused:

Sunday morning, up at 5:30 after a somewhat restless night. The forecast was for sun/cloud cover. It was misty but not raining. My bike is ready, my things are packed. I have everything for every need. :o Too much, I discover later.

Ride starts off nicely. Not many people on the highway yet - most give a wide berth. I love the smells ofthe wet pine forest, the sight of a bird sitting on a horse, a Aussie Sheperd rounding up a group of horses. The sky starts to clear and the sun actually appears. The ride is fairly level with little climb into Mazama, the first food stop. The food booth is bursting with fresh fruit, pastries, cookies, Clifs, water and good cheer. :)

From there I head back to Hwy 20 which starts a gradual, lazy climb towards heaven (aka Washington Pass - 31.5 miles to the 4,000 ft gain). The weather proves fickle. The sun gives way to rain. I stop, dig out the gore tex jacket. I am shocked to see most riders without camelbacks, let alone a pack with clothes. Most only show two water bottles and ss jerseys. :eek:

The climb into the North Cascades Pass begins. It is as beautiful as anywhere I've been. I feel bliss. The road shoulder is not half-bad. I was worried if I would be blown about by passing vehicles but it is not so. Riders are friendly and encouraging. The rain stops and starts a few times. The climb is steady. I stop and use my inhaler when I get winded. I walk a bit and ride again.

The views, the glacial rivers, the wildflowers get grander (penstemon, indian paint brush, lupines. The rain returns for good and with a vengence. Midway, the thunder and lightning spectacle begin. Lillian was coming off the top (to get more water for the stop) and asked if I wanted to quit. I asked her if I might get hit by lightning (and we figured probably not ;) so I plugged onward. Is this how Moses felt? I was getting very tired but refused to cave yet. Breaks became increasingly frequent.

Twenty five miles into the ride I was struggling. I couldn't ride more than 50 feet or so without becoming winded. The steep climb was just ahead and the top of the pass about 6 miles away. Jean-Phillippe drove by and offered assistance and I gratefully declined. Ten minutes later Lillian drove back by and I knew I would not be able to finish on the bike. I acquiesce to ending and load the bike.

About three miles later, the snowline begins. I felt vindicated to have stopped when I did, seeing how steep and long the climb became.

Although my ego felt a bit squashed at not finishing --this would have meant turning around and riding down in the cold sloppy downpour :eek: I felt strangely satisfied that I made it as far as I did. :) I did have a great time. I had quite a dramatic experience and got to witness much bravery and expert prowess. I can only hope the ride happens again next year. :D