I rode over from my home to the starting line and ended up the last heat released.   I was riding a new, borrowed Renovo upon which the owner had placed a comfortable seat and had a front saddle bag which I somehow had been successful at my attempt to put on a sleeping bag. Nothing was planned; just trusting the universe!

After the first mini aid station there was a huge block climb and the bike derailer somehow stopped up and got pulled into the spokes. Fortunately, one of the ride’s aid racers went back to the aid station and told them I was coming back because he was closing down the station. I ran back with the bike on my shoulder and he took a look. The gearing was expensive Spanish stuff, so James of Wedgewood ‘s (mend) bicycles – who related that he had taken his first loan at his neighborhood US Bank branch where I had worked at the turn of the century – unfortunately didn’t have the tools to help me out. He also had to get back to the shop soon because it was about to open.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask him to remove the pedals from my Renovo Bike so I could add them to the bike that my wife was bringing over. She had indicated that there was no pedals and in fact sent this picture. How it was that I forgot to pull them off which would have been a simple grab of a wrench and two twists … I simply do not know. It was a significant oversight, but it allowed me the opportunity to get to know some really great bike mechanics … from more than just one shop. Nevertheless, knowing that my wallet was on the way, I tipped out James with what otherwise was the only legal tender on my person – a $20 bill.

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Before getting the diagnostic, I had called both my wife and the race aid car with the intention of meeting at the next aid station – the IKEA in Kent. Notably, I had forgot my wallet, so I requested my wife bring it along too. Overall, she was displeased with this effort which was not only a risk but in her mind a complete waste of money, but I was determined nevertheless. She relented and helped me out. Something that I appreciate a lot, but don’t generally express my gratitude to her properly.

When the aid car came, I realized that they were close to pulling the IKEA aid station. So, I found the closest bike shop and asked them to take me there and asked wife Jenny to abort IKEA and bring the pedaless alternate bike to me at this bike shop – Leschi’s Polka Dot Jersey.

I switched bikes with Jenny and had Roman – who is French which I guess is appropriate because this was my present equivalent of the Tour de France – tune up the bike and put some regular petals on it. He didn’t have clips, so I left my bike clip (shoes) and set out to find the nearest shoe store wearing just my socks. Not pleasant because the pedals have some slight bumps which started to feel like full on spikes as I started going up the Madrona hill … and eventually just started walking socks to pavement.

I came upon an Eastern European accented gal and she said that there was a bike shop just ahead. Hmm? That meant that I could abort the shoe shop “Bait” on Capital Hill and stopped in and Alex at 20/20 – a community bike shop that serves hot chai to anyone that wants it outside their store had the pedals which when confirming with his buddy Roman at Polka Dot Jersey put them on my bike and wished me well – since I now had my wallet I reminded him that I still need to pay. Alex thanked me for being an honest man.

So, now – yet with my socks on and off the bike depending if going up or down the hills, I was back to “the bike surgeon” – Roman at Polka Dot to get my clip shoes and back on my way.

Ok, by now I am totally solo and would have no more race support until catching up to Chehalis which was right after the midpoint of Centralia! Good.

Having slowed down my thought process and realizing the gargantuan task ahead, now I did have some presence of mind. So, I purchased a phone mount and lights for night travel at the Polka Dot Jersey with Roman and his partner James (which is pronounced kind of like those muscle truck engines – “Hemi”).

I stopped at the IKEA – where there was absolutely no sign of STP bike participants – and had a big meal sometime around 4:00. Swedish meatballls – 12 of them; peas; mashed potatoes; Lingonberries jam; a side of Macaroni and Chese and some other broccoli/potato cake type thing … oh and the apple juice that I drank in line.

I was able to start charging the lights while I ate … but not enough as I would later find.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention it, but notably before getting to IKEA I was on HWY 167. That might actually be illegal. Later, somewhere around Puyallup I also went onto a Highway. I don’t know if this is illegal, but it certainly is not common. I don’t think I have ever seen any bicyclists on highways in Seattle. Notwithstanding the wide side lane, there is rocks and junk everywhere and cars and trucks speeding past. Riding my bike along a highway is not a habit I intend to cultivate … and yet I had done it twice in one day. Hmm?!

After Puyallup, I had to figure out how to meander on down to join the course because I was way past the window to get through Joint Base Lewis-Mchord.

I checked in with my father and son by text from Lacey. My Dad offered to pick me up. This was good. He didn’t demand it or treat me like a little kid – which though that is quite likely the way I should/was being perceived. I told him I was probably going to relax … as it turned out I decided to keep using as much of the setting sun’s afterglow as I could.

Oh right, I think part of the reason why I took this break to touch base was prompted by a fairly odd event. See, not long beforehand, I witnessed what looked like a black spray painted pickup do a full 360-degree fishtail at an intersection where there were other cars! This was just a bit east of Joint Base Lewis-McChord (“JBLM”). I think that made me consider that riding close to where there may be drunken servicemen on a Saturday night might be a risk that would be – to use the name of Bernstein’s book – “Against the Gods.”

I pressed on though, Yelm; a small gas station which was the totality of McCrae where Tracy helped me get more water and I saw an electronic age of cigarette purchase allowance date which still had my son’s birthday on it.

Then down to Rainer which had its drive through McDonald’s open to 1:00. I got a cheeseburger, McChicken, Medium Fries, and a Medium Shake and walked over to a ditch between it and a car wash.

I put the bag down and spilled the fries. By this point I was more hungry than proud – and of course no one was around anyway – so I ate the fries off the ground – still fine … and hot.

The water now gone from Tracy’s McCrae, I went back to get some water. The shift manager called out to someone to say that they did better than yesterday. $19,400 v. $19,300. Ok, good money. My father had suggested I consider getting a franchise, but that didn’t go anywhere – no interest.

With the water in hand I want back to the ditch where my bike and water bottles were. I switched things up and took the final sips of the remnant water in the McDonald’s cup, and noticed the car wash’s electric sign say the date and 11:59. I tried to get my camera out and take a snap, the next rotation though was not my son’s birthday, Just then, midnight and the picture didn’t produce the light display anyway. Oh well, moment was gone.

I set off out of Rainer and got not much further than passing under a small bridge before my front light dimmed. Ok, I thought this was my time to get a little bit of sleep. Notably, I hadn’t slept well the previous couple of days and I was tired from riding. My clips were not comfortable either.

There was a nice community sign (which I recollect “Nisqually”) behind which I stashed my bike and because I had a hard time finding somewhere to rest against the wall because too many roots/removed off shoots, I took a space blanket (because now no sleeping bag) and laid it out along the side of a converted rails to trails bike path and did my best to sleep for a bit. No more than 2 hours rest, probably less than an hour and a half and I realized that my sleep was so light as to be virtually worthless. I wanted to get my lights and phone charged. So, I packed up and saw an obviously vacant for sale house which had an electrical outlet up at its front door (under  its Ring). I came up to it from its white, wooden deck and started my electric pirating effort. I was probably there about 40 minutes. Charging my phones were really slow, but I wanted them so I could use the race tracker the next day. Highest priority was to get at least enough juice in my front and rear light to get to and through the sunrise.

I left at 4:00 AM and started biking the bike trail. I remember going over a bridge at one point and later going through an area dark and seemingly overgrown with trees. That’s when I broke off down to the street.

It was pretty cold out. I only had a Renovo Bike top over an undershirt and shorts on. My legs are never a problem, but my arms were quite cold with the cool morning breeze chasing past as I rode my bike. I thought to myself, David Goggins and Wim Hoff would think nothing of it and maybe I can use this as a memory to assist for later in the day when the weather was to be in the 80s … so, I persisted all the way to Tenino. When I got there I realized that my rear light had fallen off! Here again the Universe had my back, not too many cars on a Sunday morning and they all gave me adequate distance. Next destination Bucoda followed by Centralia.

Centralia is where all the 2 day riders had stayed. I thought I might even get there by 6:00. Not to be!

Just outside of Centralia, after having noted something on the race map about a railroad track (or at least so I thought), I took a left and crossed what I thought to be said railroad track.

Pedaling, pedaling, I kept going until I came upon some industrial smelter operation, it was massive. My feet hurt, so I decided to take a break. Time now – 6:34 if recollecting. Damn I will be behind everyone again.

I get going again and ride up and over a massive hill and then get to the top of another and I realize there is no way in hell that this is the race course – I’m lost! So, I go back down the second hill and the first hill’s backside is an even greater bear and I go and get down to the valley and see another bicyclist – Chris – on one of those bikes with a massive box coming toward me on this otherwise desolate road.

I wave Chris down and he says that he had been released from his duties at the Chehalis aid station and was going back to Seattle on this backroad. I ask him how to get to Chehalis. He points north to where I came. Oh boy … and OK.

So, I ride back the way I had gone, past the industrial plant, past a dog that chased after me, but stopped after I increasingly loudly yelled no, No, No! Past a road angled off which I think would have been a short cut, but I didn’t dare take, and then past the initial railroad tracks … and low and behold from this angle I could see the sign for Centralia ahead! Ahr! I get into Centralia it’s now past 8:30 and I decide I am way too exhausted and late to press down to Portland. I can’t imagine getting there before the 9;00 cut, so I go to the train station in Centralia. Sorry, no bikes going up to Seattle until Wednesday. I call my Dad defeated, it looks like I will take you up on the ride after all, I’m in Centralia.

But, then the conductor indicates that there is a train tomorrow from Olympia that he can get me on going it if will to go up 30 miles to pick it up there. He then told me something very significant … this ticket was not only one that would allow me to go back with my bike, it was going to be the last ticket for the entire train!

I buy the ticket with the bike out of the Lacey/Olympia Station.

I call my father back and tell him he doesn’t need to come and the plan. The rest of the morning I am kind of falling in and out of sleep as I sit upright in one of the many old-style station, wooden segmented seats in the Centralia station.

About noon, I decide to get moving and so go out and find a coffee shop. It’s a few blocks away and ironically called – “The Station.” There I order a 20 oz. mocha and their signature panini – a ham, triple cheese, and pesto with what seemed like homemade ruffle chips – “the station.”

Finished with lunch, bathroom breaked, and now my water bottle and Western Design Conferenced coffee canister both filled with water … I’m off.

Now, recollect that I have dirty socks and all my clothes haven’t been changed. But, I do have a clean shirt and shorts and two pairs of clean socks along along with the race map in my Renovo bike jersey pouch.  Also, instead of having sent a bag ahead to Portland as everyone else had with the STP, I’ve got a waist belt filled with an extra inner tube and air jets as cheap insurance (which fortunately) I don’t need to use, my second phone, eyeglasses, 3 chargers (though only 1 charger block), and of course – because of my lovely wife’s earlier help – my wallet.

I set off. It’s hot. But, this is roadway I’ve now traveled before. Including of course the turn where I get lost.

Throughout, I’m wondering if I might find the back, red light that fell off sometime between Raanier and Tenimo … it didn’t happen.

Well, I get to Tenimo after a few stops by the side of the road to let my feet rest. There was a second person who asked if I needed help … besides my Dad. I get in and at the first gas station get water. Going out I ask about “the bike trail”. Just that way! Not fully believing I ask someone else in the neighborhood who tells me exactly how to get on it. Good! I’m going on it up to the town Ranier. So, past a lake that I want to jump into and by now I am probably going no more than 2,3 miles before taking a foot break. I notice though that there are two places that I can turn northwest toward Olympia. The second one looks more direct, so I expect to take it. I’ll look for the first one though and decide. It’s just after a river.

Well, I find the river. A father and a son are on the bridge looking out over the other sides of it. Not going to declip, I call out a few times “splitting the gap, splitting the gap.” On reflection now, that may be what this adventure is really all about. Returning though …

I pass a bunch of other kids on the bridge too. One jumps off right before I pass. I hear the splash; it’s not too far down, but it’s not immediate either.

I keep going and I see a few benches on the left. Time to rest my feet. I stop and realize this is the first turn. Now I understand, it’s a bike trail – Good. Sign says something about the Chehalis bike trail – 14 miles to Lacy – or was it Olympia – I don’t know. I do know that this meant that I am about half way on this day’s ride. Oh boy! Do I really need to do this? Probably not if I am going to sleep under the stars a second night. But, considering how restful that was last night, despite the cost, I might want to avoid it. As I’m getting ready to set off, some people come down from that way and stop at the benches. They say that if I keep going just to the other side of I-5, I’ll find the cheap hotels like LaQuinta. They are not far from Evergreen College.

Many stops along the way. I doubt less than 6; almost certainly not above 8. At the last stop on the trail, I figure I am close enough that I better figure out where I am going to stay. The suggestion for a place close to me is 4 miles if I continue by the bike path or a bit over 3 if I again take to the streets. 3 sounds like a doable press, it’s a Comfort Inn. I call to make a reservation. It’s a rebuttable presumption that he is not at the front desk of the Olympia Comfort Inn. I am disinterested in opening up my bike belt to pull out my credit card after being enrolled for free in their lifetime rewards program. He insists. Purportedly there are only three rooms available. On a Sunday night? That seems incredulous to me, but I relent. Ok, question. How far is it to the Lacey/Olympia Station? Let me see. That’s 10.3 miles. What?! Oh non, no let me look at that again. “Mr. Robert it’s only 5 miles away.” Still something to do in the morning I guess. I book the reservation.

Starting to pack it up a kid of around 8 comes up and does a fishtail. He then rounds my bench and starts to go up the embankment. As he is doing this another kid and a Dad race their bikes right up the embankments too. Hmm? Finally, Mom rides in straight up. By now the gate is open, they all pass through. Dad closes the gate and looks around as if I’m not right there and off they go. The functional, yet inartful , wood gate has a no trespassing sign on it. Wow! that would be cool to have a property that accessibly adjoins a rails to trails pass.

I set off and after my 3 mile street ride get to the  Comfort Inn. Check In take my bike to the room strip down, throw my T-shirt and socks in trash and hang out my stinky Renovo bike jersey and joggers shorts to try to dry them out and take a shower … or perhaps 2 or 3 showers without those pesky towel offs. The tub which wasn’t drawing has a ring of dirt at the water line. Feeling clean, I go to bed at about 8:00 in my birthday suit – alarm is set for 7:00 and 7:20.

I wake up quarter after 5:00 and (re)learn that their breakfast bar opens at 6:00. So, that’s when I go down … barefoot with my trash bag of T-shirt and socks just in case I need them – the socks.

I ask at the front desk. Her language skills didn’t seem to compute. My trash goes in the trash and I have the otherwise sub-par eggs, sausage, cubed potatoes … but refrain from the biscuits and gravy. The biscuit and the gravy are both cold – no good. I do try the mini waffle maker – 4 came out, but I only ate one. I’m impressed by the apple juice. The granola was fine. Of course, it’s very hard to make a hash of 2% milk and oranges. Cherry yogurt. Second try at coffee. Now it’s not lukewarm and instead hot – good!

I go back to my room and rest. About 8:30 I decide it’s time. The two pairs of socks are on my feet now. I’ve tightly rolled my bike jersey, plastic bagged it and put it into the Western Design Conference Canister – not an easy task. I roll up the shorts and put them where I had initially planned to hold a canister of suntan lotion. Awesome! It all fits.

Time to check out? Not quite. The front desk has a toothbrush and paste. Done. Then I find out they have a razor and shave cream. Done again!

I’m off. My garmin picks up the full ride to the train station. I get there a couple of hours but have absolutely no complaints and just hang out in what I come to find out is a volunteer train station.

The train comes 11 minutes late, but that doesn’t bother me a bit. I am just happy that I don’t have to continue to ride the remainder of the trip back to Seattle. My intention is to figure out new bike (shoe) clips ASAP because my feet feel horrible.

Soon it’s time to board the train. But, of course I get a chance to first deliver my bike and in the process see what the luggage and bike carriage looks like. I’m impressed.

I get into Seattle not long after 2:00 and retrieve my bike. The journey is close to over now, but not quite. I will have to ride from the trains station back home. I take a few lingering moments to enjoy before I set off again. It’s 2:24 when I step out of the station and start to ride. I go down to the Seattle Waterfront and up to Magnolia along the West side of the train tracks. Several hulls of Boeing 737s are on flatbeds as I come up to Magnolia’s Thorndyke. I think it would be cool to have a picture … and then I dismiss the thought. I just want to get home.

When I finally got home, I saw this as the center piece on the table and then again at my folks place, and actually (un pictured a couple of “bushes full” as I took a walk with my younger brother and his dog …

Chinese Baozi & Easter Lilies. ❤️🙏❤️😇

Cheers! BZ/JUSTICE SMILES, pllc