Late spring ride through Snoqualmie Valley

Written June 5, 2006
Ride date June 4, 2006

My Sunday plans were dashed by low clouds, preventing me from attempting to resume my brief flying career. I curled up with a good DVD, and lost myself in the futuristic world of cryogenic time travel, space ships, and hot one-eyed chicks with purple hair (yes, Futurama). But after an episode or two had passed, the flickering sunlight outside the window finally pounded its way into my consciousness.

Why was I sitting inside ruminating on the latest space-delivery gone awry when I could be outside, riding?

And so I rode

I packed up my tank bag full of ride supplies (ie, a protein bar and a sun hat). I loaded my Camelbak full of water. I called up Jesse, my near-constant companion in all things motorcycle. "Nope, I'm triple booked today, sorry." I called my friend Jean, with whom I've gone sidecaring, and who shared part of a trip to the racetrack with me. No answer. Ok, I'll go by myself (ultimately a good thing: I was in a solo kind of mood).

I had been reading A Twist of the Wrist II by Keith Code (and still am, actually), and had gotten through the first parts, about throttle control and staying loose on the bars through corners. I was anxious to try these new methods out.

I left around 1:30. The ride out to the valley, as always, was more full of traffic than I would have liked, but I was only slowed down by it twice, and not for long. Quickly enough, I was turning onto Union Hill Road, which goes up over the Redmond ridge, then squiggles its way down into the Snoqualmie Valley. The air was full of the promise of spring, mingled with the constant threat of rain from the alternately blue and leaden sky.

My jaunts through the curves were being rewarded by all the benefits Mr. Code writes about, so I was greatly enjoying my newfound riding skill. Unfortunately, one of the main skills he advocates is keeping up acceleration through the curve, so my exit speed rather exceeded the speed limit on many of the curves. It was never by that much, but I'm not a big fan of breaking the speed limit.

I passed onto the valley floor, and the road straightened out. The clouds marched majestically across the sky. The bike sang underneath me, the blue Kawasaki finally doing what it was designed to do. Ah yes, now the Z750s was an excellent choice.

I had developed a plan, to go explore Stoessel Creek Road, which looks utterly fascinating on the map. Unfortunately (or, fortunately as it turned out) I missed the turn-off, and continued on the highway which goes up the east side of the valley. I kept going and going, until I felt I must have surely gone way too far. I resolved to take the next turn into the hills I could find.

I found my turn, and up I went, into the Cascade foothills. I meandered through a road (working on my curve technique as I went), and came to a familiar turn. I thought I might find Stoessel to the left, so left I went. I wasn't too worried about the route, I was just having fun exploring a bit.

Eventually, I found myself on the very same road Jesse and Sasha and I had explored two years before. I rode up to the same spot we'd stopped then, beneath the Mansion on the Ridge, and stopped to get my butt out of the saddle for a few minutes. While stopped, I found some lovely purple flowers, and experimented with my camera's macro mode.

Once my botanical curiosity was satisfied, I moved on, retracing my steps. On the way up to the aforementioned mansion is a swamp. As I passed it, I'd startled a very large bird, possibly a blue heron, out of the water. I looked for it on the way back, but it must have flown off with no desire to return.

I turned onto another road I'd never tried before, called High Rock Road. It's one of those roads that just kind of winds up the hill, then it's done. After winding up High Rock for 10 minutes, all of a sudden I found myself at the beginning of a gravel road, with an abrupt "Private Property" sign discouraging further travel. The paved road passed under the massive right-of-way for the high tension wires supplying electricity from the hydro-electric dams to the Seattle area. Quite an interesting view from under the wires.

Finally, I wended my way back down to Kelly Road, where I'd intended to turn the first time. I passed Stoessel Creek Road, but decided I'd had enough for the day. My wanderings thus far had taken nearly three hours.

I aimed the bike back up Union Hill Road, and toward home.

On the way up the hill, I experienced my first hitch in the cornering technique I was working on. I rolled into a curve at what seemed like an acceptable entry speed, until I realized the curve went around much further than I thought. I had to roll off the throttle mid-corner, which is precisely what the book exhorts you not to do. I was concerned that I was going too fast for the corner, and I figured (since I wasn't riding anywhere near the edge of my or the bike's ability) I'd rather disrupt the suspension a bit than run wide. I was right, but it was a good lesson not to enter corners too fast.

Headed down the west side of Redmond Ridge, I got another unpleasant surprise. I was rolling on throttle in accordance with the method, but I was going downhill. My speed picked up much quicker than I was comfortable with the combined acceleration vectors. The bike swung a bit wide -- not dangerously so, but enough to concern me. Then the car came around going the other way, as I still seemed to be drifting toward the center of the road.

Nothing bad happened, but I had a good solid minute of "ok, that was way too close" reverberating around my head, my heart pounding. I was still several feet from the centerline, but it felt like I'd been a hairs-breadth from running wide into the car. Lesson learned, loud and clear -- stay sane! Clever riding techniques have their place, and that wasn't it.

The rest of the ride home was unremarkable, and when I arrived I was interested to note I'd been out for nearly 4 hours. It didn't feel that long, it just felt like fun. An excellent use of the afternoon; much better than slugging around on the couch, melting my brain with television.

Stats

I didn't keep close track of the stats on this one, but it clocked in at around 4 hours, and the GPS was saying about a 45 MPH rolling-average speed, so I must have gone on the order of 150 miles. Gas mileage was up considerably, at 44 MPG. Of course, had I been on a Ninja 250, that same trip would have seen low 60s for gas mileage, and just as fun...

Lessons Learned

The street is not the track: this is something I tell people all the time, but on this trip I caught myself making the mistake. I was practicing what is really a track technique on the street. Although it's applicable to the street, it needs to be used judiciously, and I had a failure in judgement. Fortunately it just left me with my heart racing, and not running out into oncoming traffic.

Riding is an excellent mood regulator: it's kind of an odd way to phrase it, but going for a no-purpose, just-for-fun ride always leaves me feeling good; not excessively happy, just good. It's a very pleasant feeling, and it's kind of amazing how it can overcome tiredness, crankiness, depression, etc. A fine reminder, since I hadn't been out riding just for fun in far too long -- maybe a year or so.

Created by Ian Johnston. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.