cascadian telegrams

STP, or the annual migration of middle-aged salmon to portland

 

Here in Salmon Nation there is an annual tradition where thousands of mostly middle-aged cyclists gear up and ride the 200-odd mile trip from Seattle to Portland via bicycle.  I’m talking about the STP of course, which is a venerable and now-popular tradition here:  It was sold out this year with over 10,000 cyclists taking part.  It takes place every July (with the northern annual trip to Vanny/ RSVP in August).

Susan and I did our first STP around ten years ago with my brother Matt.  Being young(er) and naive, but with the energy and enthusiasm of youth, we did it on our city bikes with a modicum of training.  It turned out OK although it was a bit of a slog.

Then as now STP is as much a big party and festival as a bicycle ride.  There were riders on unicycles, three people on some sort of jogging/riding contraption (it looked like those elliptical trainers at the gym) and three hippie kids on a 3-seat lateral bicycle contraption that I can’t even begin to describe… it looked like something out of the Wacky Races.

There was also the usual contingent of racer boys (and girls) on sleek road machines and aerodynamic clothing, families and couples on tandems and tri-bicycles, and the weekenders and pikers who signed up on a lark and clearly didn’t realize what they were in for (one of the ride officials told me they had to “rescue” 24 riders on Saturday which was some kind of record).  There are some guys who have done the race 20 times and a couple who have ridden every time since 1981 when the event was started.

There is a very large contingent of middle-aged riders (which now includes me) on the STP.  Here again this demonstrates the genius of the bicycle as an invention:  Not only is it an incredibly-efficient and healthy way to get from points A to B, but because it is easier on aging joints than, say, running, lots of middle-aged and older people ride.

The middle-aged “salmon” range from weekenders to grizzled old graybeards (and grayhairs – plenty of women out there too) with legs like steel who have obviously been riding for years.  It is easy to spot the veteran cyclists:  They “ride their ride” with a steady cadence, look comfortable in their gear and themselves, and they enjoy the ride and take in the spectacle rather than just making a mad dash for the finish line.  Often they have a little beer belly to go along with the stout legs. I aspire to be one of them someday.

The genius of the bicycle and this ride is that for all these types of riders --- from one-day barn-burners to partiers out for fun – it somehow holds together as a really fun thing to do.  The Cascade Bicycle Club does a great job of organizing this ride, providing support and festivities at either end and rest stops,  and marking the route so you don’t get lost, although with so many riders it is difficult to get lost, I somehow managed to lose my way for a bit in Portland @ the end. 

Being ten years older than the previous time I’d ridden STP, I’d planned and trained a bit more for it this time.  My plan was to ride the 204-mile course in a single day, but after the doctor told me I had a meniscus tear in my left knee I backed off of that and went with a two-day plan in order to keep out of surgery (I’ve already had two meniscus tear surgeries in my left knee thanks to hockey).

I rode my trusty Rivendell Atlantis, the same bike I’ve been riding for 10 years now, stripped of all extra touring racks, fenders, generator lights etc for the event.  It’s a great bike (Susan has the same bike for her size) and I often get compliments on it from riders who know about them.  The only substitutions I’ve made from the stock bike is to go to drop bars and combination shifters/brakes – more comfortable for long rides and no need to change hand position to brake or shift – and clipless pedals which help on the hill climbs. 

I was also more careful to keep eating and hydrating during the ride.  Man that makes a huge difference:  As long as you keep stoking the engine (the little “shot blox” cubes work well) and keep drinking water,  keeping a good pace isn’t difficult.  I was able to maintain my 17-19mph pace throughout, although I can’t maintain pace above 20mph for more than a short distance.  Also I just “turtle” up the hills at 7-10 mph to ensure that I don’t pull a hamstring or something (one lady I passed had a jersey that said “Caution: Hill Slug” which was hilarious, I should look for one of those) and that works pretty well for me.

As one of the grizzly old guys told me, there’s a huge difference in the experience of being a one-day versus a two-day STP rider.  If' it is one day you are basically racing the clock (and the daylight) and trying to make it into Portland as quickly as you possibly can.  For two-day riders, you can enjoy the scenery and the spectacle a bit more and that’s what I did this time.

I over-nighted in Centralia on Saturday, at the mid-point.  The countryside around there is beautiful rolling farmland with copses of trees, and the weather was fantastic once the clouds burned off around 1 p.m., a classic gorgeous Cascadia summer day.  There was a folksy rock outfit playing and a nice beer garden at the midpoint, and I topped off the first day with a great burger and beers at the McMenamin’s Olympic Club.  As I had planned a one-day ride and not an overnight, I had to take whatever accommodations were available (not much) and “slept”, as it were, on a gym floor in Centralia College.  That wasn’t so pleasant, but for one night I can handle that, in spite of the symphony of snorers etc. in the gym.

Sunday we got a big breakfast in the college cafeteria (courtesy of local churches and charities in the communities the ride passes through… that’s one of the really nice things about STP) and it was off again, with weather the same as Saturday:  Cool and cloudy until early afternoon then burn-off and 80/sunshine.  The ride from Centralia to Kelso/Longview was nice, and crossing over the Columbia (thousands of bikes with a police escort) was exciting as ever, but I’d forgotten how lousy the last 40-50 miles along OR 30 was.  Ugh: Some shoulder,  four lanes of high-speed traffic and hundreds of cyclists jockeying for postion.  It’s dangerous and unpleasant.  In fact, a few years back, some drunk driver piled into bikes along this stretch of the ride.  He took out about six bikes, and miraculously, nobody was killed.  But every time I passed a tandem with a kid on the back or a rider with a burley trailer and a little one, I’d always “ride flank” behind them for a little bit to provide a little bit of visual protection to help ensure that motorists see me and therefore notice them.  Come on Cascade… there has got to be a better way to cross the river and get into Portland than OR 30!  It really mars the ride.

But @ the end, all is forgotten as you run the gauntlet of spectators to the waiting festival @ the finish line.  I’ll never forget Susan’s look of delight when she she finished when we rode ten years ago… the look of surprise and delight.  It was great.  This time,  New Belgium had a great beer garden set up (Tour de Fat is next weekend!), there were lots of food vendors and a few bands rockin’ out on the stage… a nice finish.

So despite the thousands of riders on the road and the lousy OR 30 segment,  I think I’ll make a tradition out of doing either STP and/or RSVP every year.  It’s fun, it gives me a training target and reason to put in some big miles on the bicycle, and it is something I can do with Malcolm and Susan… hopefully all of us next year, if he’s ready!

la furia roja == soviet red army hockey team

Spain’s victory in the WC left me unsatisfied.  They were the better team (and I’d picked them FTW, @ the onset) but something bothered me about the team and the way they play.  What was it?

As pointed out in this thoughtful post,  futbol/soccer is a flow game versus a game of plays like baseball or American football:

… soccer is a game that is mostly about flow. A game that is about flow is a game where elegant control of the ball-like object leads to the creation of chances to achieve the goal in the game; the opposing team stops them by interrupting them, and taking over.  Soccer, basketball, hockey, and were I in the mood for a challenge I’d argue NASCAR (um, minus the ball bit), are games like this.  Games of flow can be contrasted with games of plays, where one team tries to do something to get points, and the other team is defending.   Football and baseball are games like this.

I’m a latecomer (1990’s) to futbol, but ice hockey I know very, very well.  The Spanish (and Barca, and Messi)  style of tika taka (short passing and movement) is directly analogous to the hockey of the Soviet Red Army of the 1970’s and early 1980’s.  They too were famed for precision passing and movement and would take apart virtually all opponents through superior puck control.  Plus, they had one of the best goaltenders ever to grace the game in Vladislav Tretiak to aid them.  The Soviets were rightly-feared by all other national teams during their heyday.

But while we can marvel at the skill, like most North Americans, this is not what I want from sport.  I want to see bravura individual performances that demonstrate athleticism as well as team skill.  That is why it was such a big deal to most North Americans when the Canadians upset the Russian team in 1972, or when the US won the olympic gold in hockey in 1980. In both cases the Russians were arguably the better team with a better system, but great individual performances and sheer force of will brought the Canadian and US teams through to victory.

So in futbol terms, I want to see a Drogba (or a Donovan, or Robinho) make an exciting run.  It is not a ‘bravura athletic performance’ to see 5’ 7” guys playing ping pong with a football, or diving on the pitch trying to draw a penalty at the mere thought of contact.  That is not the North American way.   This is what bothers me about their team.

I know there is great skill involved for a Xavi or Iniesta to make the incredible precision passes they make.  But there’s great skill in juggling tennis balls too,and that doesn’t necessarily make for great spectator sport.   So while Spain deserved the win, I vote against tika taka football :). 

Futbol purists will undoubtedly snort at this assessment and analogy, and I’m quite willing to be educated here, but I don’t think I’m alone in finding something lacking in this strategy.  For example:  Italy get roundly criticized for taking 1-0 leads and playing keep-away with the ball.  How is Spain playing keep-away different than what Italy does to boring affect, except they do it as an offensive strategy?

I’ll take some solace in remembering the US team taking Spain apart – with our style of play – at the Confederations Cup.  Let’s do it again next time.

world cup final prediction

Lazy press stories about world cup matches are rife with ethnic and racial stereotypes about different nations – it makes me sick!  So here is my world cup final prediction for Spain-Netherlands tomorrow:

The Spanish will begin with an Inquisition (because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition) and press the Dutch side to confess to their sins.  The Dutch will hold firm and respond with Spinoza’s philosophy, holding the line against the Spanish attack  with a reasoned argument of god as an abstract concept.  Halftime will end in a draw with the Spanish retreating to ransack the new world and the Dutch to the African colonies, where they will harvest mahogany to make light and fast wooden clogs which are fast on the pitch and hurt the shins of the Spanish.

After the half the Spanish will switch tactics and Cesc Fabregas will use the arguments of St. Thomas Aquinas to beguile the Dutch defense, thereby obtaining > 60% of possession and argument time, leading to a goal.  1-0 Spain, 70’.

The lead will not hold though as the Netherlands through everything they’ve got into the canal – Van Goghs from Vincent to Theo – to tie the game at 1-1 in the 80th minute and leave the Spanish tilting at windmills.

Finally the draw will be broken in a stroke of tactical genius by Del Bosque as the Spanish introduce a traffic light with the red ‘don’t walk’ alight at midfield.  Everyone knows the Dutch won’t cross an intersection with the “Don’t Walk” signal lit, regardless of traffic or situation, so they will use this fact to their advantage and feed the ball to David Villa past the befuddled Dutch to score.  Final:  Spain 2 – 1 Netherlands.