June 3, 2017: The day started early. I’d been checking the time on my watch every few minutes, to see if it was time to be up, and when it was half past four, I got up, showered and packed the clothes I’d washed the previous night, into my saddlebag. Harrison was next up, and David the last. We were soon all set. Harrison suggested we grab something to eat at the cafe nearby, before heading out to the start, but it turned out that the cafe was not open yet. We started rolling to the start line. It must have been only about five hundred metres, when I felt I’d picked up a flat. I asked Harrison to see if I indeed had a flat, but nope, it was my saddlebag, rubbing heavily against my wheel. This would be a recurring theme over the next few days.

Now, the backstory on the bag, is that I used to have a Topeak MTX seatpost mounted rack and bag setup, which looked like this

I used it on many randonneuring rides, and it was rock solid, but it had limited capacity, and the rack plus bag itself weighed in at a hefty 800 grams, heavier than a full water bottle. My coach and friends were of the opinion that I should ditch the rack and get a regular saddle bag, and I agreed, but I was quite busy with work and my weekends were pretty much all taken up with riding, so I had little time to play around with setups. I’d continued in this manner, all the way up to May, and as the date of my departure loomed closer, I started to panic, fretting about the weight and the lack of storage space.

I finally overcame the inertia and looked around websites I’ve purchased from before, and tried to find a good bag that I could get delivered to me without delay. I came across the Blackburn Outpost seatbag, and the product pictures seemed enticing. I spoke to customer care who confirmed that it came with a drybag, so it would be weatherproof. That seemed enough, so I decided to buy it. It arrived three days prior to my departure, and though I didn’t want to take any untested components to TABR, I decided it would be fine. That was probably the biggest mistake in the long list of all bicycling related mistakes I’ve ever committed.

I quickly leaped off, made a few adjustments to the straps, and hopped back on and rode to the start. Most of the riders were already assembled. Nathan gave a short briefing about how the Spot trackers were to be activated and used, and also offered a few words of sage advice.

Thomas Camero was there; he toasted Nathan Jones, and mentioned that the hardest part about TABR, was making the start. He also said that every one of us who rolled out would instantly ditch our rookie status, and turn into veterans, for future TABR rides.

Thomas Camero, toasting Nathan Jones, the race director.

The hands of the clock showed 0600 hrs; Nathan, Thomas, and the others gathered there to see of the riders wished all of us well, and we were on the move. TABR 2017 was on, and dot watchers would see a cloud of dots, all registering movement.

It was both a moment of great pride, and a humbling experience, to be a part of that sea of humanity, as it surged forth; it was profound, powerful, emotional, and almost spiritual. There were all kinds of bikes, ranging from carbon bikes costing thousands of dollars, to extremely simple rigs, bikers of all shapes, sizes, colors, races, and nationalities, and at that moment, the kinship we felt was unmistakable. There’s a quote from the movie ‘Love, actually’ that comes to the mind.

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends.

If you replace ‘arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport’ with ‘start point of the Trans Am Bike Race’, the whole quote rings equally true.

Within a few minutes, people started finding their own rythms and hence pace, and the one huge group soon started dissolving into small clouds of riders. Though the rules explicitly forbade drafting, it would be hard not to unwittingly draft or get drafted by others, in those conditions, but as time passed, it would resolve itself. I soon got to the head of a small cloud of around forty or so riders, and all was going well, till I felt the tell-tale rub of the saddlebag, and I knew it was time for more adjustments. I pulled off the road, and got a couple of ‘Are you okay?’ questions from concerned fellow racers, but I waved them off and got down to adjusting the bag again. By the time I was done, I was all alone, and that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The weather was splendid, and I was feeling quite upbeat. I soon started getting close to a bunch of three or four riders ahead.

I was navigating with the official course put out by Nathan Jones, but I guess there were people who’d made their own courses. When we got to the place where we had to get off the 101 and hit the Lewis and Clark trail, I was almost right alongside two of the riders; I waved to them, indicating that we had to turn off, but they waved back and shot right through, so I just double-checked I was really not off-course, and when I was sure I wasn’t, I continued. Continuing down the trail, I came across a couple of riders touring the Trans Am trail on their own. I rode alongside for a couple of moments and wished them luck and went my way. After riding for sometime, I caught up with the Crossleys, Brad and Alexis. Since I’d only seen them without their helmets in Portland, I didn’t immediately recognize them, but when we started speaking, I made the connection.

I also saw and passed JJ. Cruz. In a few moments, I was passed by Jen Colestalk, whose bike was making horrible noises; she said she’d slid off on some gravel, wrecking her derailleur. I’d loaded onto my GPS, the GPX courses created by Laura Scott, into which she’d crammed hundreds and thousands of points of interests, such as campsites, bike stores, and the like, so even when I was on the official course, my GPS mentioned nearby points of interest. At that time, it noted that the nearest point of interest was a bike store some ten km away. I mentioned that to Jen, but since it was still fairly early in the day, it was doubtful whether the store would be open by the time she rolled there. Even with a semi broken deraillear, Jen was too fast for me, so I wished her luck and saw her disappear down the road.

Things went well without a hitch for a while; I arrived at the beautiful Cannon Beach, and saw the Haystack Rock, and took a few pictures.

I continued, till I could feel the bag rub against the tire, each time I hit even the slightest of bumps. I found a safe place to stop, and completely emptied the contents of the bag, and repacked them, and also drank a smoothie, while stopped. I was stationary for over 40 minutes, and was passed by many riders, including the Crossleys. I wouldn’t see them again for a few days. This is where I’d stopped: https://goo.gl/nt7w4X

I rolled on a bit more and got to the Neahkahnie Viewpoint, where I saw Laura and Patrick Gara; they must have clearly had some kind of mechanical issue or something, else they wouldn’t have been there when I arrived. This is where we met: https://goo.gl/Heq62Q I took these pictures there.

If you are wondering how I’m able to nail down the exact locations of my stops, it’s not by guessing :) I wrote a tool called ‘Stop Analyser’, which uses data recorded by a ride computer such as a Garmin, and outputs exact coordinates where stops are recorded, the time at which it was recorded, and the duration of the stop. I can simply copy those coordinates into google maps, and get the actual location on the map. You can read my blog post about this tool here: https://pchengi.com/archives/2017/04/08/Analyzing-stops-on-a-bike-ride/ and if you are a techie, you can get the code itself here: https://github.com/pchengi/rideutils.

It was close to 1100 hrs now, and I was quite hungry. I found the Big Wave Cafe where I stopped for a big brunch; I ordered a tall glass of milk, omelette, and hash browns. Chinda David pulled in, just as I was tucking into my meal, but she wasn’t wasting time :) She topped her bottles, and left. I was stationary for 41 minutes, and moved on.

I stopped again, for over a half hour, when I threaded some emergency cord through the eyelets in my Brooks B17 saddle, and used that to try and anchor the saddlebag. Though it didn’t solve the problem, it made it possible for me to ride longer stretches, without having to stop to readjust the bag. I also stopped for some really fantastic milkshake in Tillamook, which lifted my spirits somewhat.

The emergency cord trick seemed to be working, and I had no more trouble with the bag for a while. As I started on the climbs, I first met Nick Macey, and a bit later, David Gates. David had apparently gone off course and had ended up climbing a really steep climb, and all for nothing, for he had to backtrack and get back on course. Nick and I rode alongside a bit, till I stopped to tighten the bag straps again. That was the last I saw of Nick for the next few days. It was a bit frustrating to have to keep dropping places, not for being slower, but due to niggling equipment issues. I made it to the department store in Rose Lodge, just after 1830 hrs. The riders ahead had stripped the place of all sandwiches and pizzas, but the lady manning the store was very friendly, and she warmed up some pasta and pizza slices for me.

It had now started drizzling, and I wasn’t sure what to do, as I only had a bivvy bag. David Gates arrived there and mentioned that he might crash behind the fire station, just across the street. My spirits were low, and I wasn’t decided, so I just lingered on. The heated department store was also a nice place to be, as the temperatures outside had dropped quite sharply. Patrick and Laura came in too, and mentioned they’d rented a motel some 50 km away, so they were pushing on. I waited out the drizzle and moved only at 2030, after nearly two hours stationary time. When I resumed riding, I found I was quite sleepy. Within half an hour, I came across a park on Salmon River Highway, and the benches in the park seemed to be a good place to bivvy, so I called it a day.

Mileage: 203.5 km (126.4 miles)
Climb: 1987 m (6519 ft)
Total time: 15 hrs
Moving time: 10 hrs
Link to Strava activity: https://www.strava.com/activities/1020293120