Car Nation

Somewhere around Snohomish, Monroe or Duvall

This year my birthday weekend coincided with National Bike Travel Weekend. More or less on impulse, I signed up for an Adventure Cycling Association weekend trip in the Snoqualmie Valley. It was to be a two-day ride of 25-35 miles a day, intended to be family and kid-friendly, which I thought might be a good learning experience for me. The most appealing part of the plan was that the group would camp outside Saturday night. Last spring, a year ago, I bought a light, one-person tent from REI, which has still never been used outside. I have set it up in my living room, but I haven't been camping since summer camp in 4th grade, and I'm nervous about sleeping out alone. I thought this trip would be a good chance to try things out in a supportive, beginner-friendly atmosphere. I also expected that getting to and from the meeting spot in Carnation would be the most challenging part of the ride, and it was.

I left home early Friday morning, meaning to catch the 80X bus to Mount Vernon at 7:40am, but when I arrived the bike rack on the bus was already full and I had to wait two hours for the 9:40. At Skagit Station I transferred to the 90X to the Everett Transit Center, from whence I would ride about 32 miles on my old K2 hybrid, carrying tent, sleeping bag and pad, plus clothes and provisions in panniers, making about thirty pounds of luggage on my rear rack. This part of the trip went well. I found my way out of the city easily, and enjoyed cruising along fairly flat rural highways with decent bike lanes most of the way. I passed by the cafes and boutiques of the town of Snohomish, through the scenic dairy farms of the Carnation Valley.

A bit of my heritage

Somewhere south of Monroe, I realized that the Google maps I had printed out would lead to Carnation Farms, where the group was to meet on Saturday morning, while I intended to say overnight at a motel in Redmond, about eleven miles away. It would have been smarter to go directly to the motel, but it was too late to change my route so I pushed on and found the ramshackle big red barn at the meet spot.

Then I got out my Redmond-to-Carnation Farms Google map to attempt to follow the cue sheet backwards for the eleven mile ride to the motel. This did not go so well. The route over Union Hill is (surprise!) hilly and road signs didn't match up with the Google directions. At last I met a couple of club riders who were scouting out the roads for a weekend ride (Flying Wheels, or maybe the Seven Hills of Kirkland ride?). They told me to just stay on Union Hill Road and I'd get to Redmond. I did, but on the last hills I had to walk, pushing my bike/baggage cart up the steep parts, fighting sharp cramps in my inner thighs. Fortunately, the Redmond Inn caters to cyclists, and they gave me a lovely, quiet, clean, comfortable ground floor room with a coffee maker, and breakfast included the next morning. For dinner I went to Chipotle, and found provisions for Saturday's ride at a nearby Whole Foods Grocery.

Back around 1990-1992, when I worked in the Bellevue-Redmond-Kirkland area as a delivery driver for a printing company, the first lesson I learned was to always use complete addresses. You must distinguish streets, avenues, places, ways, roads, etc. Most streets (etc.) are NE in the Bel-Red-Kirk area, but there's miles of difference between NE 120th Place and 120th Place NE. The area is dense and congested, cut up by highways and interchanges for 520 and 405. The street and road system seems to be two or three different systems overlaid, road names change mid-stream, road signs often don't match up with maps, and Google Maps does not function well on Microsoft turf. It's an unholy collaboration.

In short, the return ride to Carnation Farms on Saturday morning was worse than the ride over Union Hill on Friday. I fought my way out of Redmond, but ended up riding back and forth on Redmond Ridge Way, which is unknown to Google or paper maps. At last I found Union Hill Road, and remembered the cyclists' advice from Friday. The road looked familiar, I thought I was retracing my route, but somehow after a big, swooping downhill, I ended up on Avondale Way, riding back in to town. Union Hill Road had taken me in a big circle, and it was already too late to meet my group.

Saturday was my birthday, and I made up my mind not to have a bad day. I left a message for the group guide, then stopped at Fred Meyer's to buy a new map, a deli sandwich, and a lemonade. I spent the day rambling around Redmond and Kirkland, visited Juanita Beach, and finally checked in to a Motel 6 in Kirkland. That night I dreamed about cars, right-turn lanes, signal lights and street signs. Sunday morning was grey, threatening rain, so I decided to head home after breakfast. I found the Sammammish River Trail, which I had ridden in the Red-Bell 100 back in 2015, but after several miles it was blocked off. I detoured to another trail near the San Michel Winery and rode several more miles next to a river near I405, until the drizzle turned to real rain and I decided to head to the Lynnwood Transit Center. I had to push my bike up a few more serious hills on the way, but my timing was lucky and I made good connections between the Route 512, the 90X and the 80X to Bellingham, then a ten-mile ride back home to Ferndale.

I rode 62 miles on Friday, 48 miles on Saturday, and 31 miles Sunday. Today, Monday, I am resting and rehydrating. I have some mildly sore leg muscles, and my wrists and shoulder joints are aching, I guess from arthritis and pushing a loaded bike uphill. NEXT TIME I will invest in real maps (I already have a compass, which did help a few times), and not depend on computers and cell phones for directions. I regret not meeting up with the guides and other riders; it would be nice to have companions. Then again, on hard days I sometimes think it's better to be alone, and not have to deal with other people's potential meltdowns or emotional issues, or worry about how they will deal with mine.

I did very much enjoy Friday's ride through Snohomish and the farm country. I must remember to stay away from places where people spend so much time driving cars from one parking lot to another.