well, this was my fourth STP and by far it was the best. But it will probably be my last. I've decided I'm just too much of an introvert to enjoy that much togetherness with my fellow humans. I was, however, inspired by Susan126s glowing and positive ride reports to try to go into this years ride with a more positive outlook, since I usually arrive in Portland feeling like a super grumpy troll, and more than a little hostile towards my fellow riders. So I made a point to notice and enjoy the excitement in the air at the start at 4:30 when I cheerfully sent hubby off on his one day effort. I enjoyed the sight of the sunrise over the line of porta potties as I stood in line not once, but twice before unloading my own bike. I waited and people watched a couple of waves passing before I decided to enter the stream of riders, and this seemed to make all the difference in my own enjoyment of the ride as most of the aggressive riders exhibiting the sketchy riding ethic that so angers me were up and away at the front of the pack. I enjoyed gliding through the sleepy city in the deepening glow of the dawn. The smell of Mimosa trees near the Arboretum made me smile and think of the Mimosa tree at my childhood home. The crowd had thinned out to nothing by the time I reached Lake Washington Boulevard and I enjoyed the beauty of the lake and the trees while dodging the outrageous potholes there. I was actually frantic for a bathroom AGAIN so i stopped at Seward park before slogging up Juneau to Rainier Ave, which I always feel is the true start of the ride where I can find my comfortable big gear flat cruising speed (this year it's up to 18 mph!) and really get moving. at least until people start playing the "pass the fat lady and slow down" game, which they do with irritating regularity...

In no time at all I was at the Kent Rei Stop, chuckling at the outrageous "Disco Stu" get up worn by the MC and failing to keep my booty from boogying just a little to the Rick James song throbbing from the speakers. After a quick re-fuel and pee, I was off again and in no time at all was faced with the "dreaded" Puyallup hill. I was pleased to note that the hill didn't seem all that bad this year, and that I was actually passing quite a few people, instead of being the one left behind in the dust. Soon after that was the crowded lunch stop where I noticed that it wasn't even 10:00 yet and that I had only drunk half a bottle of gatorade and less than half a bottle of water (and had probably peed more than twice that already!). I gulped my food ,and, noting the length of the potty line, set off, sure in the knowledge that there would be more pottys soon ,and also resolved to drink more. In the long stretch of road behind Fort Lewis I noticed many riders wading out into the waist high grass and was tempted, and irritated by the idea. I could wait. I wasn't going to be one of "those" riders that the Cascade Club gets calls about. I also noticed that my legs were getting crampy. Within the next 10 miles the sight of a line of porta potties in a gravel lot was positively heavenly. I began to wonder if I was working on a bladder infection as I laid my bike down and joined the very short line. When I returned to my bike I was dismayed to see that my water bottles had been emptying themselves into the gravel. So much for drinking more! Luckily, I was only a few miles away from the mini stop at Mckenna High school, where I bought 2 bottles of gatoraide and one of water and I made myself sit down and drink a whole bottle of G. As I sat, I flashed on a memory of my first visit to this same rest stop four years ago when the temps had hit the high nineties and I was struggling with nausea in addition to cramps and flirting with the idea of sagging out. By comparison, I felt great! It's great to have that low base line to compare ones current state to as motivation to continue.

Continue I did, and soon I was in Yelm, enjoying the suburban sprawl, before being directed onto the Yelm-Tenino trail, accumpanied by many riders grumbling about being forced to take the trail. I actually like the trail, once the herd thins out. It is a nice, quiet, wooded path across the prairie; a nice break from the traffic, and a potent indicator that we are getting farther out into the country. That was soon over and the trail emptied out onto the chip sealed country roads that lead to Centralia College, and a relaxing night on a sleeping bag on the gym floor with hundreds of snoring riders (I have sleep apnea, so I am one of the worst offenders...). After a quick shower, I decided to splurge and have a massage since I was feeling crampy still. I've never actually had a sports massage, so that was quite a surprise how painful it was as the masseur pushed ,tugged and generally whomped on my lower back. I could tell good things were happening, so I managed not to scream or even whimper.

After a restless night, I set out early, again enjoying the colors of the dawn over the pretty country side and was soon enjoying the rolling hills around napavine and vader. The hill just before Napavine and the one just after Vader are every bit as nasty as the Puyallup hill, and I always find myself wondering why they don't get equal billing when nasty hills of STP are mentioned. Soon enough, I was over those hills and waiting in line to cross the Longview bridge--which is also another hill that nobody mentions. I always dread the bridge with its hungry, gaping expansion joints, but always make it over. The exhiliaration at the sight of the "Welcom to Oregon" sign is always dampened by the sight of the Highway 30 sign immediately after. I don't know why, but this bit ofhighway leading to Portland always seems to go on and on andon forever. The rest of the ride was a pleasant blurr, but this stretch was/is interminable. I was still sticking to my resolve to be positve; not getting mad at people who pass too close, cut in too soon, and pass three abreast, enraging motorists, but that resolve was flagging. I was trying not to see it as a grim grind towards mordor, but that thought did creep in from time to time. In time, I was delighted to see that we would not be taking the usual route through the armpit industrial area of Portland, but up and over the St Johns bridge and through pleasant residential areas with civilized bike lanes and friendly locals. Soon, we reached Rose Center and the sounds of welcoming crowds. I was so happy to be done. Everything was hurting and I was thirsty and hungry to boot. I passed under the finish and accepted my finishers patch and burst into tears. not sure why, but at least I wasn't an angry troll...
Hubby whisked me away to our room at the Doubletree and I was soon showered and feasting.