Flèche 2012

I rode in my first flèche this past weekend. It was a lot of fun and definitely not like any other Randonneuring event I've ever done before.

The object of a flèche seems to be as much about finding places to hang out and kill time as it is about riding. Don't get me wrong. We rode 370 kilometers. That's a long ways to ride no matter what. But it's definitely not enough riding to use up all 24 hours. So, that out of balance time-to-kilometers ratio leads to a fair amount of stupid stuff like hanging out in restaurants with fish and chickens all over the walls, sleeping in post offices and riding interesting looking trails that you think might go where you want to go even though you really have no idea where they go.


The obligatory "riding to the flèche panda"



My trusty steed at the Seattle ferry dock

I started this adventure by riding downtown to meet my teammates Gary, Dave and Joe. After a cup of coffee at cafe D'arte we headed down to the ferry dock to get our picture taken while the Gilligan's Island theme song played in the background ("a three hour tour/ a three hour tour...").

The Olympic Discovery team waiting for the ferry

Off the ferry, we made a quick stop at Classic Cycle (a very cool bike shop, worth a visit next time you're on the island) to get our cards signed for the official start, and then we headed off up Hwy 305 to begin 24 hours of cycling and time-killing.

Dave taking the lead on Bainbridge Island

From Winslow to Port Townsend, the roads were dry and the weather was perfect.

Nice quiet and notably dry roads

Gary with enough clothes in that pannier to last a month

Approaching Port Townsend we made our first unplanned detour by jumping on the Pacific Northwest trail. The trail is unpaved, but definitely the more fun than riding on the busy highway.

The team on the trail

Approaching Port Townsend

In Port Townsend we met up with Jon Muellner, a fellow Seattle Randonneur who lives there. While sitting there chatting with Jon in Port Townsend I was beginning to realize that I needed to adjust my thinking for the flèche. Normally on brevets I'm trying to get through controls as quickly and efficiently as possible. I rarely just sit and relax. With my brain in brevet mode the sitting was making me feel like a New Yorker who just got off the plane in the Bahamas and hadn't adjusted to island time yet. I was anxious to get moving. Luckily the adjustment didn't take long. By the time we rolled out of PT, I was already shifting gears (figuratively... no real gear shifting on a single speed bike).

From Port Townsend to Sequim we managed to stay off of the highway for most of the trip. First we found the Larry Scott Memorial trail, another unpaved multi-use trail that weaves and rolls its way out of Port Townsend and eventually turned to single track. Then we jumped on every road we found that paralleled highway 101 until we got on the Olympic Discovery trail which parallels 101 some more and goes on for miles and miles. I'm sure it wasn't the most direct route, but it made for some lovely riding.

Trestle on the Olympic Discovery trail

Between Port Townsend and Sequim we saw our only real rain of the trip and a bit of hail (always fun on a bike), but the sun found us too and the weather was definitely nothing to complain about. Yet.

Sunshine has us totally confused

Gary dropping us as usual

Near Sequim on the trail

In Sequim we had an excellent Mexican dinner with a frosty hoppy beverage to wash it down. We were all still feeling strong and fresh. Meanwhile, outside the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping ("a three hour tour/ a three hour tour...").

When I was working out our route, I remember looking at the town of Quilcene on Google Maps and thinking, "a town like that has got to have a bar that stays open until two, right?" "I mean, what else would people in Quilcene do on a Friday night?" Quilcene would have been a great place to stop and warm up a bit on our long 110 mile stretch from Sequim to Elma. Unfortunately the poor souls of Quilcene have to go someplace else to shoot pool, quaff a beverage and share some craic with their mates. There was nothing open in Quilcene when we rolled through at about 11 pm. So, that left us with a full night of riding and 110 miles of road with no services of any kind.

Actually, it's not accurate to say "no services of any kind." Randonneurs are nothing if not resourceful. While most people might look at a post office and see only a place to pick up and drop off mail, a randonneur might see a five star hotel.

Lilliwaup PO: Your tax dollars at work

The thermometer on the bank in Hoodsport read 28 degrees when we went by. The temperature dropped quite noticeably after that as we climbed through the hills near Matlock. I'd guess it was somewhere in the low 20s.

We arrived in Elma as the eastern sky was beginning to glow purple, and promptly found the Rusty Tractor Family Restaurant, which at the time seemed like a kitschy Shangri la.

The Rusty Tractor in Elma

You had to be there...

Spirits and heads were drooping a bit in the Rusty Tractor.

Gary providing inspiration to the team

I don't think Dave said anything intelligible after this. And we were still a five hours away from Olympia.

But with a fifty year old cheerleader for a waitress backing us 110% we were able to hold it together and get back on the bikes for the trip to the 22 hour control two hours away in Rochester.

The wind blew in our faces pretty much all the way to Rochester, and then again from Rochester to Olympia. But by then we knew it was in the bag. There was nothing left to do but keep pedalling until we were greeted at the Governor Hotel in Olympia by a smiling Don and Mimi Boothby. It was 12:10 pm Saturday.

As much fun as it was riding through the freezing night (cough, cough), I have to say that my favorite part of the fléche was the banquet the next morning. It was fascinating and entertaining to hear the tales of adventure and misadventure from the other teams.

Thanks to Josh Morse and Seattle Randonneurs for putting on a great event.