Echo, Oregon. A small town that opens it’s arms once a year to the first mountain bike race of the season. The third annual Echo Red to Red was held and saw 435 racers showed up to race. Matt and I raced the long course and enjoyed every mile of it.

We showed up Friday night to a full campsite tending to a nice fire and made some new friends. The next morning we woke up to perfect weather.

At eleven, when the race started the weather was perfect. It stayed that way till shortly after it ended and the heavens opened up a couple times. Luckily I made it back to camp in time to set up the pop-tent before it got too nasty.

Soon after the rain stopped we were treated with a full on double rainbow that lasted for at least twenty minutes. Not soon after, Shane brought us a keg and the locals followed. The rest of the night turned into a blur which I thankfully emerged from unscathed.

Sunday morning wasn’t as easy for some folks, but we managed to get a ride in before heading home.

The river trail and climb up the bluff was a great way to end a weekend. Next year will be even better.

But since we’ve been back from Hawaii, I’ve been riding quite a bit. Weekly team rides, the regular commute, and finally some good racing. Last weekend the Dalles Mountain 60 happened and it was wonderful. I left Portland just before 7 and made it to The Dalles just in time to roll out. The race started from a coffee shop called Holstein’s around 9. Shortly after crossing The Columbia we started climbing up Dalles Mountain Rd shrouded in fog. The fog was thick enough to obscure anything past twenty feet, making the climb rather surreal. And then, just as we crested the top, we broke out of the fog into glorious sunshine. The descent was a tricky, muddy mess, which negotiated at high speeds was a real thrill. Finally out of the mud, the gravel kept dropping and at one point I glanced down to see 34mph on the computer, I was hauling balls. And then things started slowing down.

The route took us east to Hwy 97 where we dropped for about 1/4 mile before crossing the highway to take the old Maryhill Loops Rd. Tight hairpin turns on smooth tarmac made for a great descent.

Soon after we dropped back to the river and crossed over back into Oregon. A quick stop for a can of coke got me headed back towards The Dalles. The route back took us on Old Moody Rd which seems steeper every time I ride it, but eventually it leveled out. Five of us cruised back into town together fighting a headwind the rest of the way.

At that point I think most people headed home.

I decided to camp out and made my way to Deschutes State Park. It’s a nice place, and during the winter it’s practically empty. I found a good spot and made a nice fire. In the morning I woke up, made some breakfast and headed down the old rail-trail. About 6 miles in I stopped, enjoyed a nice beer, and watched a hawk fish from the river. It was slightly surreal, and although I had intended to ride the entire 16 miles in, decided to head home instead. It was a great trip, the race being the highlight.

All of the photos from this trip can be seen here.

Looking forward to Echo Red to Red this weekend! More great racing and camping is always welcome.

Go Means Go – Meet Your Maker video series #1. from Matthew on Vimeo.

Cory makes wonderful bags for carrying lots of stuff around. I use mine for commuting, vacationing, and once a while ago, for working. Not only does he make bags, he also makes hip pouches, hair-nets(from time to time), top-tube pads, and of course coozies.

Hit him up, and tell him Milky sent you.

A friend of mine used to write a lot about arbitrary goals. It’s important to be motivated, and lately I’ve been a little overwhelmed with my current work situation. Spending a lot of time at a keyboard pushing pixels around can have a negative impact if it’s not matched up with regular riding. Add in the holidays and the chamois cream and there’s hardly any time for personal reflection/arbitrary riding.

But then Rapha comes out and throws down a gauntlet of sorts. I haven’t quite figured out how I’m going to document this, but I’ve got a computer and a digital camera. So they’re probably going to receive a large number of photos documenting the odometer and large cans of beer.

500km is just over 310 miles. In one week. I normally put in around 150 miles a week, so this is basically doubling the load. Seems like a good challenge. And if success comes around I might just get a sweet little patch to show off.

Rapha 500k Patch

This is why it takes me days to put something up. I’ve been off the train for four hours and I’ve got nothing to say but huh. Or heh.

A great way to start a trip

Even when I leave for the train early I end up rushing. But Matt and I both made the train, and promptly set up shop in the dining car. Sit with the savages in coach? Please. Although we had a very interesting sleazebag across from us. Hitting on the high school girls and polishing off a four pack of Seagrams Peach Fuzzy Navel before passing out for the remainder of the trip. Needless to say, we were pumped to finally be riding in Seattle.

Originally we were scheduled to qualify around 11am, but our train arrived at noon. Lucky for us we knew the jerks handling the affair and we set off around 1. In each wave of qualification, around 6- 8 riders would take off on the course, the top four of which would go on to qualify. Well Team Better-Late-Than-Never only had two racers. Accompanying us were our friend Dan and Collin, the latter being a photographer for Bike. Sweet.

I think the average qualifying time was around 45 minutes. We took 2.5 hours. A quick stop to pay for new Cthulhu shirts, and halfway up the greenbelt I flatted. Not being anywhere near a bike shop, and having brought no tools whatsoever, we raided Sally’s house for a wrench to remove my rear wheel. Case found some beers in the fridge, and a Lucha mask. We were pleased.

Thanks Sally!

Moving on to the first checkpoint I flatted again. We found the pinch in the first go around, and the second time was a large piece of glass. But we were not dismayed. We pressed on, stopping frequently for photo ops with Collin. At first we thought he’d get tired of taking pictures of us doing stupid things, but he kept pressing us for more. It was the best qualifier I’ve ever experienced.

Being the last group out on course, the checkpoints were relieved to see us finally come through. The rain wasn’t very serious on Saturday, and the spirits were still high.

Checkpoint #2. Thanks for the beer!

Moving on we found an abandoned checkpoint and cleaned up. A foam hand type thing, and some race ribbon took a ride with us back to the start.

Here Dan sports the latest in cycling fashion.

By the time we got back to the finish, the event was mostly torn down. But thanks to our natural talents and dashing good looks we qualified. We felt a little bad for the folks that tried but didn’t succeed. Then that faded.

Portland totally did that yesterday. Sheesh.

Having spent enough time in the south end, we found our way through downtown and had a stop for food at the Athenian. With extra time to kill, we moved on towards Shorties. And after a while we headed to the post qualifier party. Finally putting the bags down for a couple hours was a nice relief. The party was great. Except for the shit talking on my fair town of Portland. But have no fear, we stood up for Stumptown. Then some people rode stationary bikes and we took some liberties with the unsupervised belts.

I believe it was first placed fixed. Unless there was another?

Did you remember to wash your hands?

At some point, Cory and I were sufficiently annoyed with the party and we found our way home. In the morning, the sun came through the windows and I was wide awake. For a few minutes there is was touch and go, but after a short walk for coffee and a pastry that solid feeling came right back. We watched the Steelers barely eek out a win, drank expensive Bud Lights and watched the sky open up on the city. Finally around 1 we felt fully prepared. Justin picked us up at the bar, and after the race he even dropped us at the bar. Justin, you made our weekend!

Torrential downpour. Absolutely gnarly amounts of water fell on the highway as we headed towards Kent. Within 100 feet of exiting the car, every article of clothing was completely soaked. The mud was like soup. The 45 minutes before the race was wet and very cold.

And then there was the race. That thing we came up to Seattle for in the first place. We lined up, sort of, and then we were off. The course was twisty, tight, fast, and always on. The run ups were perfect. The barriers were a foot and a half high. There were six of them after the gravel run up. The whoops were steep and air was had. There was beer everywhere. The start of the race was a hill climb. It was wonderful. Justin all the race photos, Thanks again!

We're taking the hill. And throwing waterballoons in your face.

Perfect course for a fixed wheel. Fast and soupy.

One of my favorite styles of barriers, the over-under was steep and fast. It dropped right to the track crossing, the sides of which were fun for hopping.

Over and under. Ride it!

I’m not much of a fixed gear fan, but my crappy 6 year old Iro was awesome. Great gear choice, complete commuter style with the front disc brake, rear fender, and blinking lights made the race not only fast, but fun for the haters.

Taking the inside line.

Every time I passed the finish I was amazed they weren’t pulling me. Low and behold I didn’t get lapped and I completed as many laps as the winners. The last two laps were getting faster, and my group of racers was getting hot. There was a Yakima Vigilante trading spaces with me for most of the race, and finally I pulled away from him and took my middle pack placing. Results aren’t up yet, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

The best kind of mud, loose and fast.

After saying our goodbyes Justin took us back to Seattle. Matt and I met up with Cory and watched Favre throw to the Packers all night. For reasons you don’t need to know, I ended up walking up Queen Anne, and the rest of the night floated away. Cory and I had some beers at the house, shared some laughs and the alarm came much too quickly.

So thanks for the fun times Seattle. I’m not sure why the rest of Portland couldn’t make it up, they missed out on a great time. The course was one of the best I’ve ridden, the support was top notch, the organizers were having a great time, and I managed to come home with a bunch of extra crap. At this point, San Francisco feels a long ways off, but we’ll see what happens.

I think it’s time for a nap.

Campfires, tall tales that go nowhere, yellowjacket stings, and of course bad gas.

Here we go with the photo dump. Why so many photos? Because they say it so much better than I can.

Everyone pays a bit

Quite possibly one of the better views from Alpine.

Inside the Office Covered Bridge

Gravel. yesssss.

Spencer "No one can touch me on the downhill" Calahan

At this point we knew we had taken a wrong turn

High Life. Steelers. Middle Fork Willamette River

Why? Why do we continue with this?

Cthulhu keeps good friends

At the top of Larrison Rock

Descending from the top of Larrison Rock - R Kelley

Descending from the top of Larrison Rock - Brandon Lockwood

Descending from the top of Larrison Rock - Spencer "No one can touch me on the downhill" Calahan

Descending from the top of Larrison Rock - Jeffrey Boston

Nothing like two nights of camping, three days of riding, and good times to cap the summer off. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s still hot and sunny this week. I’m getting a sinking feeling that Alpenrose is going to be dry this year. Maybe we can get some garden hoses to muddy the place up.