Day 5 It's All About the Ride

Day 5 was, in a word, extraordinary from a riding standpoint.  I originally imagined that our best days would be 1 and 2, and that we would get cycling fatigue in our muscles and minds as the week progressed.  I envisioned us having to fight to stay on our bikes in the last few days.

Reality was just the opposite.  As the week progressed, we felt stronger and better, able to tolerate more miles with leftover energy.  And so it was that Day 5 was our kick-butt day on the bikes.  We agreed to meet Nancy in Aberdeen, and headed off down the Elma-Monte (or was it Monte-Elma) Road, a long road that paralleled Highway 12, weaving through little northwestern towns and then stretching out through the countryside.

It was the first day we were able to do a lot of side-by-side riding, thanks to the lack of traffic, bright sunshine and flat terrain.  Fred and I both agreed that if only all routes were this easy, we could ride endlessly.  In Satsop we took pictures of the cute buildings and chatted while a young couple waited for a bus that went between communities.  In the book, Cycling the Pacific Northwest, author Vicki talks about the miles flying by.  Indeed. 

Before we knew it we were in Aberdeen where we lunched at a Mexican restaurant (Mazatlan) and I nursed my little ice cream habit with a treat at Dairy Queen.  Then it was back on the road.  I remember the exact scenery, though I am not 100% where it was when Fred commented, "I never want to get back in a car again."  That's how I felt as we rode on Day 5.  We were flying... I was in my zone, making long, smooth strokes on my bike, shifting easily just at the right time to stay really efficient and effortless on the bike. 

What a wonderful way to enjoy the sights... the roads, the trees (oh my, so many trees!), the sky, the orchards, the flowers, the sign we rode past that read, "Correctional Facility. Do not pick up hitchhikers."  Well, actually, that last one probably looks better from the seat of a car going about 70 miles per hour... but you get the idea.

We rode into a little town called Bayview.  The route turned right toward Westport, but we were staying in Tokeland that night, for which the road went left.  It was about 6:00 pm and we sat outside a gas station with a Subway.  There was a little picnic table next to the building, which we claimed as we waited for Nancy to come find us.  I took my shoes and socks off.  Glorious.  Truly, there's nothing quite as luxurious as being barefoot after a full day of riding. 

We sat there about a half hour and then decided we were game to ride even more.  I was torn.  On one hand, I was still new enough at this to feel OCD about "the route"... "the instructions"..."the path" laid out by Tom and Vicki.  On the other hand, it seemed silly to ride toward Westport only to have to drive back toward Tokeland after.

This was the moment I realized it's more about time on the bike and mileage than the exact lefts and rights.  So we hopped back on, clipped in and headed toward Tokeland for another 6 miles or so.

Tokeland, as it turned out, was incredible.  We stayed at the Tradewinds on the Bay, where each unit was a darling mini-house, with a bedroom, kitchen, living room and bathroom, and doors in the front and back.  We were all immediately regretting that we hadn't booked two nights there. 

What a great day.  But it was bittersweet, because on one hand it was our most successful day of all, and on the other hand, it showed me that I could have been pushing myself further, harder, more, and here we were at almost the end of the ride and I realized we could have been closer to goal had I figured out my limits sooner.  So much still to learn about myself.

Thanks, blog.