PhotoBlog: Seattle to Portland

I must be honest; I joined the Gay City Health Project STP Team reluctantly and with a sneaking suspicion that I would drop out at the last minute. I did not.

I have never done anything like this before. and have always felt that this type of recreational activity was not for me. It is expensive, grueling and not something that I grew up exposed to. I really see this as crossing a cultural barrier that I never really noticed was there.

Last Wednesday, before the ride, I went to REI to pick up my STP numbers and jacket along with hundreds of other riders. It was there that I first noticed how few people of color I saw as I looked around. I dont mean to make this a race thing... I just want to acknowledge that, as a man of color I felt like an outsider going into this. Where I come from we kick a soccer ball around a field... it doesnt require expensive equipment at all :)

In any case... I am not a poor kid in middle-of-no-where-Arizona anymore, so I dove right in.

The night before day 1 of the ride I gathered all of my supplies, food
and butt creams(not pictured).

The team met up at 5am at my coworker Tony's home for some last-minute carb loading.

We sent our bags ahead to the camp site.
This part was hard, as I set my bag down with the others I felt naked and realized I was about to trek to another State with nothing but my bicycle. Oy.

24 Miles into the ride. Our first free food stop at REI Headquarters. They had a great set up. REI along with several other local cycling shops had free bike repair, volunteers walked around with trays of oranges, bagels and plenty of other snacks to keep us all going :)

My chain kept clicking for the first 24 miles and luckily the gentlemen at the repair tents replaced it for me. It took about half an hour though. blah. This is where I lost the team as they moved ahead of me.

I lost another 20 minutes in line for the bathroom! Not my day so far.

Despite being at the REI stop for so long, I was glad to feel the energy of the riders and the support of all of the volunteers and staff. It totally got me pumped for the rest of the day.

Just when I started thinking I couldnt do it, a guy on a unicycle passed me.
I had a laugh, then realized... "oh shit, he is faster than me"

I dont think you are supposed to whip out your camera and shoot pictures but I just had to. Luckily I didnt cause any accidents.

At mile 43 after crossing THE HILL, a mile long hill that I never want to see again! At this point I thought "what the hell am i doing!?"-- My face felt like it was going to explode.

Its crazy how organized this event is. Police and volunteers throughout the entire route redirected traffic as drivers either cheered us on or cursed us for being in their way. One guy yelled at me for having my camera out. oops.

Roy, Washington

More of Roy

Yelm/Rainier/Tenino Trail
The only part of the ride where we werent riding on roads or highways.

Mini Stop at the end of the trail. At this point I realized I had stopped too much and tried to haul ass for the rest of the day. No more pictures of day 1. I got stung by a bee and had to stop at the first-aid tent... my energy for pictures was shot to hell.

127 miles into the ride I arrived in Vader, Wa. I was so excited to be reunited with my teammates. We ate, had a beer and some pain killers and I was in bed by 8pm.
I have never had a farmers tan like this! I cant believe I forgot to sunblock my arms. Oy!

We camped out in someones front yard and I got to take a shower in their beautiful walk-in, two-shower-head tub.

Day 2: Lewis and Clark Bridge
I heard mention of this bridge crossing but I certainly was not expecting this.
I dont think this picture does justice to the grandness and intimidation at the sigh of this bridge. It felt like when you are at an amusement park, in line for a ride you are really scared of and having second thoughts about.

The bridge has no real shoulder and traffic sped by us the entire time. This was the scariest and hardest moment on the entire ride. Once I got to the top I mustered the energy and courage to pull out my camera and take this picture. I wasnt looking... I just hoped that something decent would come out. Then I began the speedy descent down the other end of the bridge and a sharp turn onto the 5. We were warned that the descent down the bridge was fast and there was "no voluntary stopping"-- meaning; you can only stop if you are struck by a car or you have lost control of your bike and ended up dead on the side of the road. It hard to be optimistic at this point.

At the first rest stop, post bridge trauma we met up with another teammate.

I was feeling good about day 2 at this point.
I had completed the dreaded bridge.
We were at mile 160 of 202.

WATER!

Last Mini Stop on US 30, 186 miles into the ride.
No more pictures of the day as of this point... I was busy trying not to die! :P

We rode on that dreaded us30 for miles and miles with 90 degree weather bouncing off the asphalt and searing, yes searing our bodies.

16 miles to go. I was exhausted and finally getting that adrenaline rush everyone else had been talking about. My cynicism about this whole thing escaped me and I became a bit moved by the whole experience. As we rode into Portland I got a little teary about what we were accomplishing. The crowds cheered us on as we came into the city and wound around town to the finish line. There was one more bridge entering downtown Portland but that ascent on it was cake compared to what we had already put out bodies through.

As we rolled into the finish line I felt a sense of accomplishment that I dont have skill to even begin to put into words.

I handed my bike off to one of my teammates who had come in before me. I never want to see it again.

Overall I am glad I did it. I feel like it was a sort of initiation into the Northwest. I have been to Portland before but only by plane and having never left Seattle in a car or a train... I had never seen the State. It is lovely, I am proud to live here and even more proud that my first journey between these two beautiful cities was by bike.

The pain of the ride is still too fresh to decide whether I will do it again next year. Once my ass, knees, hands and sunburns stop hurting, I will cross that bridge (pun intended).