De Ronde van Oeste Portlandia

Saturday was the day of reckoning. After three months of training, it was time to mount up and give those west hills a go. We'd been doing three rides a week, but until Saturday we'd never done more than half of the Ronde course.

Ten of us met at Ken's Artisan Bakery in the morning to drop off our bike locks for the after-party and down some quiche. It promised to be a shockingly beautiful April day, but at 45 degrees, we were off to a chilly start.

We dawdled a bit at the bakery, and by the time we arrived at the starting point, the crowd of 600 or more was already moving forward. We met up with two others there and headed out St. Helen's Road for the first ascent - Saltzman. I've described this road before, but I've never seen it like this. There were hundreds of riders making their way through the mud, most of them on road bikes with skinny tires. OPB was filming, so we smiled pretty for the camera as we ascended. I was feeling strong, actually managing to pass a few people here and there, though none among my crew.

We regrouped at the top and took the rolling hills of Skyline to our next monster climb - Brynwood. The grade is rumored to be somewhere around 26% on this short narrow road. In times past, I've come close to doing half of it by winding back and forth from driveway to driveway. But with so many people trying to conquer the hill at once, heading straight up was the only option. I was close to throwing in the towel when a woman came down in front of me and brought Dave down with her. From there, I walked it up. So did Patty, as you can see in the picture above. Some of our crew hammered through it, and we were all rewarded with a long downhill on Skyline and Cornell heading to the next beast - Pittock Mansion. On my way down, I had my first glimpse of the tandem rider - a man with his son who was about three years old. They had made it up Brynwood without stopping, and as far as I know completed the ride.

Pittock is another famously steep climb in Portland, but I handled it surprisingly well. I think climbing it 4 times in one week, once with a flat tire, must have really made a difference. I was still feeling pretty energetic when we reached the top. About that time, Josh and Nick texted me. They had avoided the pageantry and conquered the back half of the Ronde at the break of dawn. After a rest in town for new brake pads, they wanted to meet up with the rest of us.

The next climb from Pittock was Barnes, and we did it pretty quickly and easily. Our original plan was to stop for lunch after the next climb to the zoo. This would be the halfway point, and Jason's wife had offered to deliver food to the picnic shelter there, so we could get some calories in us for the rest of the ride. When we got to the top of Barnes, it was only 11:50. We were 40 minutes ahead of schedule for getting to the zoo. After a bomb down Burnside, and another climb up to the zoo, we got to the shelter at 12:20. Jason's wife had rushed to get everything ready and try to meet us, but she had trouble finding the place, and the riders were anxious to move on. We decided to fill up on water and rely on Dave's oatmeal fudge bars to see us through.

Nick and Josh met us at the shelter after climbing Pittock and Barnes and rode with us a ways. By this time, the weather was sunny and in the 60's. Harrison started to cramp up on the hills, and he and Nick slowed down to help him recover. We got our first view of our final destination, Council Crest around mile 25, but the painted lions in the road told us to head back down, and we obeyed. Around then, we got word from Harrison that he was stopping to nurse his leg cramps.

Next was the brutal climb of College, going the wrong way on a narrow street no less. The car trying to descend was none too happy with the crew of riders trying to get up it. Dave and Jason S were far ahead of our group at this point, having forged ahead from the zoo, and they managed to make it up without walking. The rest of us were only too happy to dismount for a bit. We caught Dave and Jason at the top where the route had circled back down for another gnarly climb.

Twice more, we wound our way up quiet neighborhoods to just below Council Crest. Twice more, the lions directed us back down. Around mile 35, we encountered ride angels, a group of people handing out Gatorade, cookies, and fresh fruit. We filled our bottles, thanked them profusely, and pressed on. Short of the second ascent, Harrison sent a text: "I'm going to finish." I replied, telling him I'd just finished the last climb to Fairmount, the road below Council Crest. The crew was ahead of me, anxious to reach the top. I expect they were as surprised as me to see yet another arrow pointing down the hill. And instead of leading to a road, this one pointed to a goat trail, just wide enough for a bike. I called Patty to make sure I was on the right route.

We regrouped at the bottom and began our final ascent of Council Crest. By that time, my supplies were limited. Almost no water, and a little of the oatmeal fudge bar Dave had given me at the start. I started to falter. Everyone pressed ahead. I rested a few times, drank the last of my water, and kept going. Just short of Fairmount for the last time, I hit the wall. Dehydrated and disoriented, I dismounted and began walking slowly up the hill, which wasn't particularly steep. Not more than a few hundred feet away, Patty called me from the top of Fairmount to see if I was ok. I told her I needed water. She sent the rest of the crew to finish, and walked down the hill to find me. As soon as I saw her, I threw my bike to the ground and laid down on the side of the road. She gave me the little bit of water she had left, and a chocolate protein bar. I ate it while laying down until I felt like myself again. She had to wipe the melted chocolate off my face. How lucky am I to have friends like that?

After 30 minutes or so, I was able to get on my bike again. Patty helped me push it up the final final hill to Council Crest Drive, and we reached the park without fanfare after 6 1/2 hours of riding. The others had already headed into town to celebrate, so we circled the park and kept going. A slice of pizza and two beers later, and I was completely recovered. It was probably the most amazing day of riding I've ever done, much harder than the centuries I completed last year and more rewarding being among so many friends and bike enthusiasts.

And the fun doesn't stop here. We're already planning a century ride in 3 weeks in the Dalles. Life is sweet.