Tulip Pedal - No blooms for you - wind and lessons learned

~
Holy crap!

Gary and I drove darn near up to Canada (eh) for the Tulip pedal and there weren’t any darn tulips.

OK, there were tulips, they just weren’t blooming yet. The spring snow and butt cold temperatures delayed the spectacular display that I’ve heard so much about over the last ten years.



And the “no tulips for you” is an exaggeration because all registered riders received tulips. Maybe mine will bloom tomorrow?

And it’s OK, because I can go back in a couple of weeks with the good camera.

But the wind… OMG the wind.

I take back anything I’ve said about Kent being the land of nasty headwinds, we were pummeled by what were likely gale force winds. More then once, I thought my bike was going to be blown over with me on it. (BAD flashbacks to the accident that fractured my spine and pelvis)

There were times when I was riding on flat ground and Flash should have easily been pulling over 20 mph, that I was only going 8mph, it was like riding over 22 miles of relentless hills.

I swear, we expended enough energy to have done a Century Ride (and I think there should be some credit for those miles we pedaled and darn near got blown backwards on, like at least DOUBLE.

Oh, and it wasn’t 40 miles, it was 45.8 miles (46.06 on my odometer)



Oh, and did I mention that it was butt cold?

The first part of the ride was quite pleasant The tulips weren’t blooming, but the daffodils were (underneath the wicked cold and wind generating storm clouds). Yeah, we have daffodil fields at home, but these were daffodil fields somewhere else.




We headed out from LaConnor to Padilla Bay where we rode through the Eagle Sanctuary. We saw Bald Eagles playing in the wind.

This one posed for us. Too bad it wasn’t an appropriate trip to haul the good camera out on. It would have been nice to have my big zoom lens.



We round out and around Samish Island, and that’s when the cross winds turned to relentless, soul sucking headwinds.

After a brief stop in Edison for food, water and a bathroom break (event sponsored stop) we began the relentless haul back to LaConnor.

We passed the Chuckanut Alpaca Ranch (we were on Chuckanut Road)

Chuckanut is one of my new favorite place names, along with Duckabush a Salish word that translates to “land of the crooked jaw salmon”), Hamma Hamma (coincidentally the name of the network printer I use at work), Shookumchuck (“big rapids, heavy current”) and the infamous Humptulips (“chilly region” and where they do not grow tulips)

Oh, Chuckanut means “beach on a bay”




We had a minor “incident” on Avon Allen Road. I stopped to take a picture of the storm that was about to pummel us. I thought Gary was well behind me.

All of a sudden I heard (and felt) an OOOMPH !!! as he crashed into me.

Luckily, it was shoulder to shoulder not carbon to carbon. THAT could have been a disaster.

I immediately starting apologizing, certain that I had committed “bicycle sin” and stopped in front of someone without warning, who was following me.

As turns out, he was well behind me, but he was riding hard, head down in the drop trying to deal with the wind.

He didn’t see me until it was too late.

Se we learned a lesson about watching the road. It’s a good thing I wasn’t a truck or something that could have really hurt him or damaged his bike

As we rode through Avon (after a few more miles of soul sucking, demoralizing headwinds making me lust after other people’s areo bars), I saw a flash of red in one of the fields…

At first, I thought it was a marker flag, but NO, it was a blooming TULIP !!!

I parked Flash next to a utility pole, and ran out into the mud to get piccies !!!




As we continued winding back towards La Connor, we passed the crowds flocking to Roozengaarde’s and stopped for a photo-op. (and a break for our tushies)



Less than a mile after Roozengaarde’s we had another “learning experience”.

I made the turnoff onto Jounquist Road (which created a loop and came back to the road we were on) and Gary didn’t. I thought he was right behind me, and it turned out to be someone else with a jacket that looked like his.

Instead of paying attention, I started taking pictures and he rode right past the turnoff with another group who was taking a short cut and checking out another big daffodil field.

I waited until I was certain that he had already passed.

Lesson # 2 for the day was everyone needs a map, phone, and ALL of their own repair gear including a pump because even in a group of two, it IS possible to get separated when your tired and all the yellow bike jackets start to look alike (he didn’t)

I knew that the route connected back to the road he was on but felt that it was smarter for me to stay on the official route and make the three mile loop in case the SAG wagon had him or if anyone was looking for me.

I cranked up my speed when I hit the road back into La Connor in hopes that I could catch him (he cut three miles off the route, and I waited for him for a good long time so I was WAY behind)

I was hoping that he’d be at the school when I got there. If not, I’d know something was wrong and I knew where the keys to the truck were and I’d just take it, back track and go find him.

Luckily, he arrived not too much before me and we had a good laugh.

He got at least 43 miles in and I got 46.6

We headed out to the new brewery/restaurant in Burlington and then I drove the big Cummins diesel beast back home while he got a nap (now my little truck feels “funny” with no spring in the stick shift or clutch and like it weighs nothing)

Here I am showing off the cool shirts we got and my windburned face



Now, I need to go soak in a tub and check myself for saddle sores.

A difficult training ride is a good thing. At least we weren’t hammered by horizontal frozen chunks of ice.

My quads are a bit sore (they got cranky at about mile 40) and I have a bit of windburn. My tush is not overly happy with me, but it’s not unbearable.

Due to the wind, we were on those bikes for at least five-hours (if we’d not had the wind, we could have come closer to 3 ½ hours)

I think it’s a fabulous testament to how well my road bike fits me off the shelf that my back, neck, shoulders and knees feel fine.

Next weekend…

60 miles at the Daffodil Classic (with hills).

Yikes…

~L