Injuries sustained: ~5 (Mike: blood blister from an encounter with a multi-tool, Sharon: bad knee from riding in too hard of a gear, bug in the eye, Both of us: occasional saddles sores, scraped ankles from pedals)
Days with the promised and much-hyped tailwind: 1 (but it was 1 great day!)
Days with brutal headwinds: the rest....
Bugs hit: Sharon: 3 (one in the eye, one in the nose, one in the mouth - believe it or not, on three consecutive days), Mike: doesn't remember ("they were tasty!")
Days with the promised and much-hyped tailwind: 1 (but it was 1 great day!)
Days with brutal headwinds: the rest....
Bugs hit: Sharon: 3 (one in the eye, one in the nose, one in the mouth - believe it or not, on three consecutive days), Mike: doesn't remember ("they were tasty!")
So we rode for approximately 4-7 hours each day, not including stopping for breaks, food, rests, or naps in the ditch. This is an awful lot of time spent in the saddle every day. Generally we spent all of these hours within approximately 5 metres of each other, me in front, Mike in the rear. We spent a lot of time talking/ranting/chatting/singing, unless we were on a particularly busy, fast, dangerous, or challenging stretch of road, at which point our only form of communication involved one of the the following words: "Debriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis," "Treeeeeeeee," Graaaaaaaaaaaate," "Hooooooooole," or "Buuuuuuump." We talked a lot and sang a lot (I wa-wa-wa-wonder is particularly entertaining to sing as a travelling duet) and stopped a lot. It's hard not to when you're either really exhausted or when riding in such spectacular areas.
Our longest climb was, believe it or not, not in the Rockies, but a 4 mile, 8% grade near Leggett. The Rockies involved about four days of slow gradual climbing, following by several days of what felt like flying downhill the entire time. There were a few high passes, but none so challenging that they're worth mentioning. It was riding to Hinton with the headwind coming down off the mountains that made for some more tiring days. We had some amazing descents too, including finally entering Jasper National Park and being rewarded with a magnicent descent, flying downhill to Mount Robson for miles and miles and miles (though Mike's tire was problematic at this time so we had to take it easy), and a beautiful tour through the California redwoods, where we climbed for what seemed like forever and were treated to a magical descent for miles through deep and mystical ancient forests. I can say now that the ride was generally pretty good - but if you had asked me at the beginning of one of our 3 mile "moderate" climbs, I probably would have had a few different choice words to describe the situation.
The real challenge this trip didn't really have anything to do with the climbs, the wind, or the flats though. It's all about the shoulder and the traffic. We rode on the interstate: crazy traffic at top speeds, jostling for position, but marvelous riding in a four metre shoulder, far enough removed from the madness (as long as you don't mind the noise). We also rode on side roads: very little traffic, but when a car does come around a tight corner with no visibility and your shoulder is next to nothing, it's cause for concern. The shoulders varied from a four metre extra lane big enough to park a bus in (complete with rumble strips, but I'll talk about them later) to the crumbling remnants of a white line falling off into the ditch. As far as the cyclist in concerned, rumble strips along the shoulder are a fantastic idea. They a) remind sleeping drivers that there is an edge to the road and b) reassure weary cyclists that said tired drivers are not about to run them over, as we'd be able to hear them crossing into the shoulder. However, centre line rumble strips are a terrible idea for cyclists!!! Everytime a courteous driver moves over to make a wider margin between bicycle and passing vehicle, the unsuspecting cyclist (used to the sound of a vehicle crossing rumble strips to mean get into the ditch and fast) has a heart attack.
Our longest climb was, believe it or not, not in the Rockies, but a 4 mile, 8% grade near Leggett. The Rockies involved about four days of slow gradual climbing, following by several days of what felt like flying downhill the entire time. There were a few high passes, but none so challenging that they're worth mentioning. It was riding to Hinton with the headwind coming down off the mountains that made for some more tiring days. We had some amazing descents too, including finally entering Jasper National Park and being rewarded with a magnicent descent, flying downhill to Mount Robson for miles and miles and miles (though Mike's tire was problematic at this time so we had to take it easy), and a beautiful tour through the California redwoods, where we climbed for what seemed like forever and were treated to a magical descent for miles through deep and mystical ancient forests. I can say now that the ride was generally pretty good - but if you had asked me at the beginning of one of our 3 mile "moderate" climbs, I probably would have had a few different choice words to describe the situation.
The real challenge this trip didn't really have anything to do with the climbs, the wind, or the flats though. It's all about the shoulder and the traffic. We rode on the interstate: crazy traffic at top speeds, jostling for position, but marvelous riding in a four metre shoulder, far enough removed from the madness (as long as you don't mind the noise). We also rode on side roads: very little traffic, but when a car does come around a tight corner with no visibility and your shoulder is next to nothing, it's cause for concern. The shoulders varied from a four metre extra lane big enough to park a bus in (complete with rumble strips, but I'll talk about them later) to the crumbling remnants of a white line falling off into the ditch. As far as the cyclist in concerned, rumble strips along the shoulder are a fantastic idea. They a) remind sleeping drivers that there is an edge to the road and b) reassure weary cyclists that said tired drivers are not about to run them over, as we'd be able to hear them crossing into the shoulder. However, centre line rumble strips are a terrible idea for cyclists!!! Everytime a courteous driver moves over to make a wider margin between bicycle and passing vehicle, the unsuspecting cyclist (used to the sound of a vehicle crossing rumble strips to mean get into the ditch and fast) has a heart attack.
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