Our dueling alarms went off simultaneously at 4:30am, immediately jarring me awake.  I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to survey the damage from the prior day. I felt a little shaky and had some vertigo, but overall I was in surprisingly good shape.  This might mean I was about to get lucky and have a break of a week or so before the next big cycle of illness. I could certainly work with this.  

Even on the best of mornings it still takes us 20 minutes to get out of bed and ready to go, and it can easily turn into 30.  Outside of skipping the hotels entirely, I’m not sure how to make this process much faster. During Trans Am the routine generally went like this: braid my hair to keep it out of the way, put in contacts, apply SPF to my face, take medicine, apply anti-itch lotion everywhere, put on bibs, apply chamois cream, hook up heart rate monitor, add a jersey/headband/arm warmers/leg warmers/jacket/shoes/gloves, pack charging implements and refrigerated food, turn on the GPS and SPOT trackers, turn on lights, and take the mandatory safety photo to send to the race organizer.  Regrettably, this list also includes checking social media. I knew it was something to be avoided, but as a dot watcher myself I couldn’t resist knowing who was in the lead, and what had been happening to other riders. I wanted to know who had been out tackling miles late into the night, and who had already been on the move for several hours this morning. Plus, it was exciting to see our family get into the race!

Sleeping so much after day one felt like a huge missed opportunity, but the flip side is that we both felt completely fresh as we got moving.  A handful of racers were hanging out back around the 100 mile mark or less, and one other person was still in our hotel. The crowd ahead of us had thinned while we slept, but a few potential targets remained.  I definitely had a moment of panic where I thought ‘oh my god, are we really doing this? Are we letting hundreds of strangers watch us struggle to stay out of last place? Do I really have to get back on my bike this fast?’  Every minute spent dawdling would be visible for others to judge. Overall, however, our mood was bright.

Happily, the sun was also bright and cheery that day as it came out to greet us.  Highway 18 was a lot less busy than the previous evening, and we enjoyed a gentle warmup through rolling farmland.  I snacked on a pack of pop tarts and leftover gatorade. We were surprised to pass someone within an hour.  

30 miles in we stopped at a Subway in Monmouth as it opened, and spent a luxurious 25 minutes eating while sitting down!  Chris devoured a footlong italian while I stuck with a 6 inch, and we both packed additional footlong subs for later. The store employee accidentally ruined a batch of Smore’s cookies and handed me the resulting pile of goo to eat for free.  I love anything related to Smore’s, so this surely was good juju.  

When we got back on the road at 7:40am, the sun was already strong enough to remove some of our layers.  The terrain stayed blissfully flat, so we picked up the pace and got into the groove of the race. Straight into not one, but two wrong turns.  Other racers document such errors all the time, but sitting in your armchair at home it’s hard to understand how this sort of thing could happen, especially with paired racers who benefit from multiple sets of eyes.  Let me assure you, it’s quite easy to do. Putting flat miles in front of me guarantees that I’ll get into my aero bars and get lost in my mind. Luckily, we added no more than a mile due to our mistakes, and I hoped that learning our lesson early would prevent more serious issues in the future.

The miles between Monmouth and Eugene flew by, aside from a bit in the middle navigating the busy city streets of Corvallis.  I chose to ride with a heart rate monitor because I had observed during our spring training that my heart rate elevates much more quickly on the days when my symptoms flare.  I grew accustomed to checking it frequently to prevent blowing out my energy, and I really needed it during this stretch. There’s always a pull to keep up with Chris, no matter how I’m feeling.  Today I happened to be feeling great, but we were both riding so excitedly that our pace kept threatening to creep up above an acceptable level, which for me is 155bpm or lower.  

Originally, we thought for sure we’d be going over McKenzie Pass on day two.  There were two problems in reality. First, we wouldn’t actually get to ride up McKenzie at all, because it was still closed for snow removal and fire damage repair.  The alternate up Santiam Pass was going to add an extra 17 miles between us and the town of Sisters. Second, since we had only made it 140 miles the first day, getting over the pass would require riding 190 miles in total, assuming we didn’t want to bivvy on top (which we didn’t).  We weren’t sure how the day would go given my health, and we knew we might have to stop early in McKenzie Bridge. It was around this time of day when I secretly started to hope.

Just outside of Eugene in a town called Harrisburg, we made a 15 minute stop for snacks and water.  I reapplied sunblock, and took stock of my right knee. I had noticed an ever so slight twinge as we pedaled into town, which was unusual for day 2 of a bikepacking trip.  I decided to take the time to apply a new set of kinesio tape. Unfortunately, the off brand we had brought with us came loose by the end of the first day of riding, and I had avoided putting a new set on that morning for the sake of time.  I really hoped I wouldn’t have the same knee issues that I developed during our last big trip.

After grabbing gatorade, doritos, corn nuts, candy, and a few pieces of fruit I was itching to get a move on.  We faced a temporary delay due to construction, and somehow Chris managed to get through without me. While I was forced to stop, I chatted with the construction worker about the other racers who had come through while he was on duty.  He mentioned something about riders passing by yesterday, and I tried to ignore the thought that we were already a day behind the lead.  

Once past Eugene, the route turns East again along a river and becomes a very shallow, winding grade up towards the mountains. Trees largely protected us from the afternoon sun, and traffic was sparse.  I was pedaling soft, secretly trying to save my legs for the pass. I tried mentioning this to Chris, but he was not ready for the words to be uttered out loud yet, for fear that we’d jynx ourselves and I’d suddenly break down.

At one point, Chris stopped about 100 yards past a post office to put on his sun sleeves.  He had failed to notice the two loaded bikes sitting outside the store. I had checked Trackleaders while riding so I knew that Daniel and Brad were nearby.  I gave Chris crap about lacking a competitive spirit, and made him hurry up so we could sneak away before they came back outside. We were really, really racing today!

We were simply feeling too good and the miles were way too easy and too fast.  So we showed up to McKenzie Bridge at 4:30 pm and I said “Dude, you know we can’t stop, right?  We’ve gotta ride the wave while we can”. We were going over Santiam Pass!!!!

I was feeling a bit more dizzy than earlier, but mostly okay.  We stocked up at a little camp store, knowing that there would be no additional services for 50 miles.  I picked up ice cream, Gatorade, and more beef sticks. We sat down at a picnic bench briefly to double check the elevation profile for the climb and strategize.  Both of our legs felt fine, and I predicted that this would put us in Sisters around 11pm. That meant a little bit of night riding, and potential for a shifted sleep schedule if anything kept us on the mountain for unusually long. 

Our plan seemed solid, until Brad and Daniel arrived and we struck up a conversation with them.  When we shared our intentions with them, they said “wow, big day”. They figured they wouldn’t make it all the way to Sisters, and assumed they would have to bivvy on the mountain that night. Suddenly, I felt unsure of myself. I recognized Brad from previous iterations of TABR, and I also learned that Brad and Daniel had ridden the Tour Divide together. That’s a lot of combined experience, and if they weren’t planning on making it over the mountain surely that meant we were biting off more than we could chew?

Still, I thought Chris and I knew ourselves pretty well.  We decided to move on, but for good measure I went back in to grab some caffeine.  One Doubleshot Espresso for now, and a 5 Hour Energy for later just in case of emergency.

Despite my misgivings, we headed out of town and everything was really lovely.  We put in another handful of easy ish miles, with a gentle climb towards the main event.  I turned on my music, watched the golden light peaking through the thick evergreen forest, and took my time.  It was so quiet, and so peaceful.

Santiam Pass consists of three multi mile chunks at a 6 or 7% grade, with brief breaks in between.  Of course, Chris climbed faster than me but he always waited at the end of each section. I felt quite feverish the whole way up the climb.  Not because I was working too hard, at all, but because of my underlying health issues. I had to be very careful with my effort levels to make sure I didn’t overheat, but it was mostly okay.  We didn’t make it to the top until 9:30 pm, which means we were climbing for 4 and a half hours.  

One mile from the summit, we were surprised to run into Nathan and Anthony in the media car!  We stopped for a short chat, which was a nice break from the climb. They snapped a few pictures as we hit the road to knock out the last chunk before it got too dark.

Darkness set upon the mountain as we descended towards Sisters, but thankfully my vertigo had temporarily lifted and I felt reasonably confident navigating the dark curves of the road.  The stars came out, and all was well in the world. Mentally it had been a really good day. I got bold again, thinking we were going to crush the race, maybe move up the pack a little, and finish in less than a month. I was on the hype train all day long, dreaming of that finish line. Chris and I chatted during the last few miles before Sisters and agreed that no matter what happened, we’d always cherish this day because I was well enough that we were actually able to feel like racers. 

When we finally got to the hotel that night around 11:20pm I was suddenly really shaky, and oscillated back and forth between feeling super itchy and spiking a fever.  You could tell that my body was fighting with something. I wished that I knew what it was, and how serious it was. We decided to be very kind to ourselves and set our alarms for 7:30am.  Surely the whole race would pass us by before we finally woke up, but we knew we needed to be careful with my issues. I had just rocked a 190 mile day!

Right after we turned the lights out, I had a scary moment where I suddenly lost feeling and control of my arms.  Thankfully it didn’t last long, but that definitely freaked me out a little. My instincts told me that I shouldn’t be out here racing, but it was too early to think about that.  I needed a few more days to pretend everything was okay before I faced the truth.

For now we were racers, and today we had really raced.

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Grand Ronde, Oregon to Sisters, Oregon: 190 miles