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ride report -- GYGIG, day one (8/3/07): edmonds to oak harbor, wa
We spent Thursday night at Alex W’s house in north Seattle, where Alex and his sweetie treated us to a fabulous salmon dinner and we made friends with their adoreable cats. (The cat therapy was especially welcome since we are still smarting from Hecate’s recent departure.)
We retired early and I tossed and turned all night, most likely from nerves. Sweetie drove me and my stuff to the ride start in Edmonds very early Friday morning. I had momentarily thought of leaving my raingear with Sweetie to take back to Portland, but while I was loading my bike into the car at Alex’s I noticed dampness in the air. By the time we got to Edmonds it was a heavy drizzle and the ground was soaked. The drizzle let up, but I kept my raingear and eventually put it on for the start of the ride. Sweetie stuck around and met some of the other rides with me. We walked around, introduced ourselves to other riders and to the ride organizer, and I chedked out the other bikes. Lots of carbon fiber and aluminum. Mine was the heaviest bike there. That didn't stop other riders from coming up and "smelling the lugs", though; several commented favorably on the lugwork and the overall Old-Schoolness of my bike. The volunteer mechanic (Cole) and I became friends right away. He took to calling me "Old School", a name that stuck with both the volunteer mechanics all weekend.
Sweetie stayed until the speeches were done, even though she was shivering in her shorts and t-shirt (neither of us had really planned on it being quite this cold and damp in August!). Finally, we were off. Sweetie and I blew kisses at each other as I pedaled away.
We rode through Edmonds and up to Mukilteo to catch the ferry that would take us over to Whidbey Island. Sweetie and I had taken this same ferry a year ago when we came up to sing at a friend’s wedding. I looked forward to seeing more of the island this time.
The ferry arrived at Clinton on Whidbey Island. We had been told that the steepest hill of the ride would be the ride up from the ferry landing to the turnoff to go inland, and while this was correct, the hill was actually pretty short in distance. I reveled in being able to climb up the hill on my bike, even though it was by far the heaviest road bike there. I love my third chainring.
My goal for the day was simply to be able to ride the full distance without mishaps. I knew that my tweaky knee might give me trouble later on and I might have to sag a portion of the ride on the second or third day; but I really wanted to ride the full distance at least today if I could. (I had already accepted the possibility that I might not get to ride the full 210 miles, but I was hoping to do at least 180 without problems.) I tried to remember friends’ advice to relax and maintain a mellow opening pace so I wouldn’t blow up too soon.
I was so inspired by all the other people with IBD doing the ride. Some of them have worse symptoms than me, some have lesser symptoms or are in remission; but we were all there to do what we’d trained for all spring and summer and the support and encouragement between all of us was palpable from the start. Although I’m not a fast rider, I suddenly remembered that I could climb and that I enjoyed being able to climb. And unlike all the brevets I rode, where self-sufficiency is the order of the day, this ride would be fully staffed by support mechanics, sweep vans, medical personnel and others who were all there to insure that we had a successful and positive weekend. Everyone had been required to fill out a detailed medical history including their drug regimens and dietary needs. Ostomates (people with IBD who’ve had surgery to remove their colon or intestine and who now wear an external pouch under their clothes) were asked in advance what their equipment needs were so that enough ostomy supplies could be on hand for them. (Now THAT’S support.)
sweep van crew
We rode through a beautiful park and enjoyed several roads and paths that were lined with tall, green trees, making feel as if I was riding through a long green corridor.
Most of our route took us through small towns and forested areas on Whidbey, and the scenery made the ride so much more enjoyable, even on the hardest hills.
The hard part came after lunch, around 38 miles into the first day, as my knee began to twinge uncomfortably. I pressed on, toughing it out for another ten miles past lunch. It grew more painful with every pedal stroke. Then I felt that familiar, sharp pull over my kneecap and heard the popping sound that told me I’d have to stop and take a break. Seconds after that a sweep van pulled up. After assessing the situation I agreed to be sagged to the next rest stop on the route, where I could ice my knee and see about riding the final 13 miles to the end of the day’s course. At the rest stop I iced it on and off for 30 minutes, and then a medical volunteer checked it. She pressed lightly on the affected area, and I flinched; it really hurt. She told me I was done for the day and asked a sweep driver to take me to our overnight stop in Oak Harbor. I was disappointed but knew that if I tried to ride the 13 miles I would not make it before the course closed at 5 pm, and I’d be sagged anyway. I needed to rest my knee if I was to have a chance of riding again on Day 2.
I arrived at the City Beach Park in Oak Harbor, where tents were being set up and baggage unloaded from the trucks. I found my tent, set it up and went to take a shower. After that, I sat around in the medical zone and iced my knee on and off for almost an hour, and took ibuprofen.
I know, I know: I have Crohn’s, I’m on an anti-inflammatory, I shouldn’t be taking ibuprofen. But you know what? When it hurts badly enough that Tylenol is a mere placebo, there is simply nothing else that helps. So far it hasn’t killed me. Meanwhile, I also discovered the coolest thing: Bio-Freeze. This stuff is Ben-Gay on steroids. It goes on cool and stays that way for an hour or more as it eases into your skin. It actually helps with joint pain and diminishes it. Amazing. I grabbed a few packets to carry with me the next day and am buying myself a tube of it to keep at home. I would wear a jersey with their logo on it if they wanted to become a GYGIG sponsor. This stuff is The Sh*t. Seriously.
The nice part of hanging at the medical tent was that other folks were hanging out there too and we got to talk. We talked about bikes (I seem to have become a magnet for every other bike-head on this trip; there were at least eight or nine shop employees all riding this weekend and we all found each other within hours of the start of the ride), life with IBD and life in general. It was refreshing to be riding in a bike event where I didn’t have to explain myself, or apologize for not keeping up because I had to go find a bush Right Now. When the ride is about living with IBD, people just get it.
Dinner was cheerfully provided by the Oak Harbor Elks Club: Hot dogs, fried chicken or Boca burgers, baked beans and corn on the cob, along with a crisp green salad and ice cream sundaes. In short, lots of delicious food I probably shouldn’t be eating. I know that planning a menu for this event must be really hard, but I was not the only one who wondered about the food choices. I looked at the plates of several folks. You could tell some of the folks who had IBD, because we had all skipped the salad and most of us had skipped the corn or baked beans.
I went ahead and had the corn just so I could say I ate a vegetable that night. I would probably pay for it later, but whatever. It tasted great. I also had a tiny bit of ice cream with chocolate sauce. (No whipped cream, though.)
After dinner I was in my tent writing in my bike log, when someone tapped at my tent, it was Jennifer, who’d learned I was Jewish and asked if I’d like to light Shabbat candles with her. I gasped in appreciation and wonder; here we were riding our butts off and this kind lady had remembered to bring candlesticks and matches! Of course I hopped out of my tent and went with her to a safe place to light the candles. A third woman joined us. Jennifer lit the candles, we covered our eyes and said the prayer, and embraced and wished each other “Shabbat Shalom” (a peaceful Sabbath). And then it was over. A tiny, quick moment of light and warmth that absolutely, totally made my whole day. (It was also a reminder that there are a LOT of Jews wth IBD. While anyone can get IBD, especially in developed countries where food tends to be more processed, IBD seems to run strongly in families of Ashkenzic Jewish descent. I don’t know why but there it is. I probably met a dozen or more self-identified Jews during the ride.)
Total distance, Day One: 48.7 miles.
We retired early and I tossed and turned all night, most likely from nerves. Sweetie drove me and my stuff to the ride start in Edmonds very early Friday morning. I had momentarily thought of leaving my raingear with Sweetie to take back to Portland, but while I was loading my bike into the car at Alex’s I noticed dampness in the air. By the time we got to Edmonds it was a heavy drizzle and the ground was soaked. The drizzle let up, but I kept my raingear and eventually put it on for the start of the ride. Sweetie stuck around and met some of the other rides with me. We walked around, introduced ourselves to other riders and to the ride organizer, and I chedked out the other bikes. Lots of carbon fiber and aluminum. Mine was the heaviest bike there. That didn't stop other riders from coming up and "smelling the lugs", though; several commented favorably on the lugwork and the overall Old-Schoolness of my bike. The volunteer mechanic (Cole) and I became friends right away. He took to calling me "Old School", a name that stuck with both the volunteer mechanics all weekend.
Sweetie stayed until the speeches were done, even though she was shivering in her shorts and t-shirt (neither of us had really planned on it being quite this cold and damp in August!). Finally, we were off. Sweetie and I blew kisses at each other as I pedaled away.
We rode through Edmonds and up to Mukilteo to catch the ferry that would take us over to Whidbey Island. Sweetie and I had taken this same ferry a year ago when we came up to sing at a friend’s wedding. I looked forward to seeing more of the island this time.
The ferry arrived at Clinton on Whidbey Island. We had been told that the steepest hill of the ride would be the ride up from the ferry landing to the turnoff to go inland, and while this was correct, the hill was actually pretty short in distance. I reveled in being able to climb up the hill on my bike, even though it was by far the heaviest road bike there. I love my third chainring.
My goal for the day was simply to be able to ride the full distance without mishaps. I knew that my tweaky knee might give me trouble later on and I might have to sag a portion of the ride on the second or third day; but I really wanted to ride the full distance at least today if I could. (I had already accepted the possibility that I might not get to ride the full 210 miles, but I was hoping to do at least 180 without problems.) I tried to remember friends’ advice to relax and maintain a mellow opening pace so I wouldn’t blow up too soon.
I was so inspired by all the other people with IBD doing the ride. Some of them have worse symptoms than me, some have lesser symptoms or are in remission; but we were all there to do what we’d trained for all spring and summer and the support and encouragement between all of us was palpable from the start. Although I’m not a fast rider, I suddenly remembered that I could climb and that I enjoyed being able to climb. And unlike all the brevets I rode, where self-sufficiency is the order of the day, this ride would be fully staffed by support mechanics, sweep vans, medical personnel and others who were all there to insure that we had a successful and positive weekend. Everyone had been required to fill out a detailed medical history including their drug regimens and dietary needs. Ostomates (people with IBD who’ve had surgery to remove their colon or intestine and who now wear an external pouch under their clothes) were asked in advance what their equipment needs were so that enough ostomy supplies could be on hand for them. (Now THAT’S support.)
sweep van crew
We rode through a beautiful park and enjoyed several roads and paths that were lined with tall, green trees, making feel as if I was riding through a long green corridor.
Most of our route took us through small towns and forested areas on Whidbey, and the scenery made the ride so much more enjoyable, even on the hardest hills.
The hard part came after lunch, around 38 miles into the first day, as my knee began to twinge uncomfortably. I pressed on, toughing it out for another ten miles past lunch. It grew more painful with every pedal stroke. Then I felt that familiar, sharp pull over my kneecap and heard the popping sound that told me I’d have to stop and take a break. Seconds after that a sweep van pulled up. After assessing the situation I agreed to be sagged to the next rest stop on the route, where I could ice my knee and see about riding the final 13 miles to the end of the day’s course. At the rest stop I iced it on and off for 30 minutes, and then a medical volunteer checked it. She pressed lightly on the affected area, and I flinched; it really hurt. She told me I was done for the day and asked a sweep driver to take me to our overnight stop in Oak Harbor. I was disappointed but knew that if I tried to ride the 13 miles I would not make it before the course closed at 5 pm, and I’d be sagged anyway. I needed to rest my knee if I was to have a chance of riding again on Day 2.
I arrived at the City Beach Park in Oak Harbor, where tents were being set up and baggage unloaded from the trucks. I found my tent, set it up and went to take a shower. After that, I sat around in the medical zone and iced my knee on and off for almost an hour, and took ibuprofen.
I know, I know: I have Crohn’s, I’m on an anti-inflammatory, I shouldn’t be taking ibuprofen. But you know what? When it hurts badly enough that Tylenol is a mere placebo, there is simply nothing else that helps. So far it hasn’t killed me. Meanwhile, I also discovered the coolest thing: Bio-Freeze. This stuff is Ben-Gay on steroids. It goes on cool and stays that way for an hour or more as it eases into your skin. It actually helps with joint pain and diminishes it. Amazing. I grabbed a few packets to carry with me the next day and am buying myself a tube of it to keep at home. I would wear a jersey with their logo on it if they wanted to become a GYGIG sponsor. This stuff is The Sh*t. Seriously.
The nice part of hanging at the medical tent was that other folks were hanging out there too and we got to talk. We talked about bikes (I seem to have become a magnet for every other bike-head on this trip; there were at least eight or nine shop employees all riding this weekend and we all found each other within hours of the start of the ride), life with IBD and life in general. It was refreshing to be riding in a bike event where I didn’t have to explain myself, or apologize for not keeping up because I had to go find a bush Right Now. When the ride is about living with IBD, people just get it.
Dinner was cheerfully provided by the Oak Harbor Elks Club: Hot dogs, fried chicken or Boca burgers, baked beans and corn on the cob, along with a crisp green salad and ice cream sundaes. In short, lots of delicious food I probably shouldn’t be eating. I know that planning a menu for this event must be really hard, but I was not the only one who wondered about the food choices. I looked at the plates of several folks. You could tell some of the folks who had IBD, because we had all skipped the salad and most of us had skipped the corn or baked beans.
I went ahead and had the corn just so I could say I ate a vegetable that night. I would probably pay for it later, but whatever. It tasted great. I also had a tiny bit of ice cream with chocolate sauce. (No whipped cream, though.)
After dinner I was in my tent writing in my bike log, when someone tapped at my tent, it was Jennifer, who’d learned I was Jewish and asked if I’d like to light Shabbat candles with her. I gasped in appreciation and wonder; here we were riding our butts off and this kind lady had remembered to bring candlesticks and matches! Of course I hopped out of my tent and went with her to a safe place to light the candles. A third woman joined us. Jennifer lit the candles, we covered our eyes and said the prayer, and embraced and wished each other “Shabbat Shalom” (a peaceful Sabbath). And then it was over. A tiny, quick moment of light and warmth that absolutely, totally made my whole day. (It was also a reminder that there are a LOT of Jews wth IBD. While anyone can get IBD, especially in developed countries where food tends to be more processed, IBD seems to run strongly in families of Ashkenzic Jewish descent. I don’t know why but there it is. I probably met a dozen or more self-identified Jews during the ride.)
Total distance, Day One: 48.7 miles.
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