Endurance Volunteering – NOT for the faint of heart

By Duane Wright

With special thanks to Leslie Larson for her linked photos.

As often happens in MY life, I became a volunteer on the inaugural Oregon Randonneurs Portland to Glacier 1000k randonnée, partly through the back door. In 2006 I expressed interest in volunteering. At that time I imagined having my neat little slot, doing my shift, and being a free man.

Life is never quite so clean, of course. As the event drew near, my friends Eric and Maggie asked if I could drive their vehicle on the course. They were planning to ride the event. At the end of the event they would take their car, give me a ride to the Kalispel airport, and THEN my shift would be over.

In the days leading up to the event I was surprised how much of the usual scrambling to get out of town I had to do, even though I was not going to be riding!

On Friday afternoon I caught an express bus, from near where I work (in Seattle) to Tacoma. There Eric and Maggie picked me up and we headed south to our room near the start line.

When we got into Vancouver, WA we found a Mexican restaurant and had dinner. We also kept our eye out for gas (though, never actually got any gas). Eric also informed me that the gas gauge didn't work, the idiot light did, and it would be prudent to fill each 300 miles or so.

At the hotel Eric and Maggie busied themselves with last minute preparations. I helped out a bit, then got out of the way.

I stayed up for a while, watching a dumb movie on t.v. (at least the movie knew its place).

I awoke at 4:15 a.m. and got bags from Susan Barr and Tracy Barill. I helped Eric and Maggie a bit, but mostly got out of the way. The cyclists were all biking to the start, McMenamins Edgefield, in Troutdale, OR, one mile from our hotel.

At the start Susan France, the organizer, gave the final benediction. Riders were off, into the early morning light. There were 35 hearty souls, from B.C., Washington, Oregon, California, and Texas.

I was introduced to Nancy Medicini, another brave volunteer. We agreed to meet in Lyle (the first control) at 10:00 or so.

I went back to the hotel and laid down for a bit, probably getting another hour of sleep. Then I got up, e-mailed starting information to the Seattle Randonneurs list, showered, had the "breakfast" (sort of a continental breakfast lite), and got on the road.

It was a gorgeous day; the Columbia River Gorge was in its glory.

A bit before Lyle the idiot light went on. And THIS is where my MIND took a wrong turn on the road of life. I started thinking that Eric had put gas in the car the night before. I was a bit miff that the trip odometer wasn't reset to zero, so I reset it.

At Lyle I caught up with Nancy at the market. Clyde But and Lesli Larson arrived. Leslie had had a mechanical: her rear derailleur cable had broken and she was now running in her top gear. She had a seven speed set-up (i.e. only a single chain ring in front). She wasn't carrying a spare cable. I assured her I'd come up with something. To make matters a bit more challenging, she'd also lost the cable housing (she was using a bar end shifter) when the cable broke.

Nancy and I agreed to caravan. A few miles down the road I found Eric and Maggie. I stopped to check on them and also asked Eric if he had a spare cable. He not only had a spare cable but also a pliers that could cut. He did NOT have housing.

A little later Lesli and Clyde arrived. I studied the situation but noted the cable clamp, on the derailleur, required an 8mm wrench. Eric had wrenches in the car somewhere, but I couldn't find them. Just then John Vincent came by and graciously loaned us his multi tool (which had wrenches on it).

I installed the derailleur, and located a few zip ties, along the right side of the handle bar, hoping to simulate the effect of housing. Alas, the cable was NOT buying it – there was not the necessary compression; the derailleur would not shift.

Lesli vowed to press on. I vowed to find housing.

I checked the map and realized we were very close to The Dalles. Nancy and I continued on. I wondered why the idiot light was still on (even though I was certain Eric had put gas in the car the night before).

In The Dalles we found a promising bike shop. It did not open until noon (it was 11:30 p.m.). We found a place to sit down and have something cool to drink (the day was already warm).

Then we went back to the bike shop. There I got a cable, housing, ferrules, and an end cap.

On the way out of town I picked up three gallons of water.

Just after crossing the bridge over the Columbia the engine started to sputter. As I pulled onto Highway 14 the engine died. There was a wide spot of shoulder and I hastily took advantage of it.

What tremendous luck to have Nancy following me. I got in her vehicle and we headed back toward The Dalles. Just before the bridge we found a gas station. I went inside and discovered the place was actually an RV sales lot, disguised as a gas station. An extremely generous elderly gentleman told me he had a five gallon can of gas in his pick up. He came outside with me, unhitched the can, and gave it to me, saying I should take what I need and then bring it back. What a trusting soul.

We drove back to the Subaru. I put some gas in the tank and the engine started up. We went back to the RV lot. I thanked the man and insisted he take $6. He was very appreciative (and I was EXTREMELY appreciative!).

We crossed the bridge for a third time. I found a gas station and had it filled (they fill it for you in Oregon). It took 15 gallons!

Then we were back on the road. Whew!

I found Lesli, installed the housing, and she was back in business (and extremely thankful). I thanked her for having had a problem that I was able to fix!

We drove on. At the Roosevelt Market we found lots of cyclists. Drew Devereux was there with a vehicle full of treats. Riders were also getting various items from the market.

Drew handed his cell phone to me. It was Susan France, asking if Nancy and I could head to the Plymouth water stop and take over, freeing her and Carol Nussbaum to go to Kennewick, pick up provisions, and get to Connell to prepare meals for the arriving riders.

At Plymouth we caught Susan Barr, Tracy Barill, and another rider about to head out. We also traded places with Susan France and Carol Nussbaum and they headed to Kennewick.

I took the water container down to the day use area, at the BLM campgrounds along the north shore of the Columbia River. The woman at the entry kiosk volunteered water from the hose on the kiosk. She came outside and watered the flowers until I had the water container ready. Then I filled it, thanked her, and headed back to the weigh station (that was now being used as a water stop).

We were fairly busy handling riders' liquid and morale needs as they arrived. It had been a hot day, and the fabled tail winds had NOT materialized. At Plymouth the course leaves the banks of the Columbia and heads due north, meaning UP! Everyone wanted to know how steep and how long was the climb. I had ridden this portion of the course on the pre-ride, in April, but my memory is often terrible about things like this. I knew there was a climb, I didn't know how much of the twelve miles, to the right turn (on Clodfelter Road), was a climb. We gave riders encouragement as they headed off.

Maggie and Eric arrived. Maggie expressed hope that I would be at Kennewick when they arrived, so she could have access to some of her things in the car. Off they went, with my slightly uncertain assurance that I would be there when they arrived.

Michael arrived, from his water stop, 25 miles to the west, and updated us that all riders had made it that far (but Scott Peterson, of Bend, OR, wasn't feeling so great). Michael asked if I could join him for the late night water stop, at Eltopia Road, north of Kennewick. He promised to greet arrivals with live clarinet music. WHO could POSSIBLY resist THAT?

By about 20:30 I left Nancy to head to Kennewick. She would wait for the last two riders, Scott Peterson and James Yee.

Near the top of the Plymouth Road climb I caught a spectacular sunset, complete with three volcanoes on the horizon. It doesn't get much better than this.

I made it to the supermarket in Kennewick before Maggie and company arrived. Ron Himschoot was already in the store. Peg arrived slightly later. James Bronson arrived. Maggie and Eric arrived. Maggie expressed gratitude (and informed me that my reliability had just shot up).

I found a few items in the supermarket to eat. I also picked up some water for the water stop. James Bronson shared some of his pickles. They were a nice touch on a hot day (although the temperature was now much more comfortable).

I drove through Pasco and headed north to the Eltopia Road water stop. Michael Rasmussen regaled me upon my arrival. We sat in his truck and listened to jazz on the near by public radio station. As riders arrived he would greet them with notes somewhat reminiscent of an elk mating call (not that I've done too much mating with elks, but I have heard them bugling once or twice).

Most riders made the stop a brief one. Eric and Maggie arrived and Maggie was rather insistent that she was NOT going to do PBP. She had decided she did not like these long rides. I suggested she wait until a bit after this ride was over before making such a decision. She replied that she wanted to make her decision NOW so that she would not forget she had made it!

They took a nap in the car, then headed out.

Michael was sleeping now, so I greeted the next few riders without waking him. When only Scott Peterson and James Yee remained, I left Michael a note to the effect and I pushed on.

It was perhaps 3:00 p.m. when I got to the MM Motel in Connell. Susan and Cathy were still up, working in the kitchen. Susan greeted me with some wonderful lasagna. There was a cooler full of beverages. Life was good again.

Greg Paley and Mike McHale were getting ready to head out! I was getting ready to go to bed. I hit the sack at about 04:00.

The control closed at 07:30. By the time I poked my head out of the room most of the riders were gone. A very tired looking Marcello Napolitano was getting ready to depart. I learned that Scott Peterson had thrown in the towel.

I put on my running clothes and went out for the same six mile run I'd done during the April reconnaissance trip (it had been my excuse to avoid a day of riding!).

After the run I sat down for a breakfast of interesting items (some which were personally handed me by Marcello's daughter).

Carol, Cathy and Susan had the suite in ship shape order. We all headed out, in our various vehicles. Scott Peterson was riding with me. We stopped at the supermarket, where I got some ice for the cooler. Next we headed to Washtucna.

At Washtucna we found Susan, Carol, and Nancy. A tired Marcello came through. Right after he passed us he took a wrong turn. I jumped in the car and headed out to turn him around. Unfortunately, he was a ways up a big hill before I got to him. I pointed out that he could use the downhill to get started up the correct hill.

We continued on, stopping at the park in La Crosse, where Drew had set up a water and snack stop. Riders came through looking hot and tired. Maggie talked some more about dropping out.

When we left La Crosse, Drew was still waiting for Marcello.

At Dusty we stopped at the store, and interesting looking quonset hut on steroids. It was cool inside and most riders stopped for something cold before pressing on.

We drove on to Colfax, the last big town riders would see until Kellogg, Idaho. It was an open control and riders stopped at various points.

I went to the Subway, where I found Ron Himschoot. A bit later Peg and Ralph arrived (with Ralph complaining that Peg was too slow (though Peg took it in good humor)).

I found Clyde and Lesli in the supermarket. John Vincent, Noel Howse, Maggie, and Eric arrived. Maggie did more threatening to drop out. I gave her encouragement to continue.

Drew showed up with Marcello, who had to drop out due to lack of sleep.

Several riders went to Taco Time, incl. John Vincent, who was wrestling with dropping out. Then he thought the better of it, put on his helmet and set out.

My end of the day task would be to station myself at Plummer, Idaho, which closed at 22:00. I was sensing that Scott was getting restless with the slow pace of supporting. I asked Drew if he would have room for Scott and he agreed. Scott seemed pleased with the suggestion.

Everyone set out. I waited a bit then I too set out. I hadn't gone more than a mile when I remembered my promise to myself – BUY GAS AT COLFAX!! I turned around and went back and filled the tank.

During the pre-ride, in April, I'd been intrigued by Steptoe Butte. This time I intended to visit it. Just before arriving there I found Noel and he posed for an action shot.

The ride up to the top of Steptoe Butee State Park was a corkscrew. The summit offered a great view of the Palouse. Several other people were near the top, with camera and tripod. I spent a fair amount of time taking shots with Maggie's digital camera, a high end point and shoot Panasonic Lumix. I mounted it on the tripod and surveyed the landscape for shots of interesting curves, light, texture, and vegetation.

Then I corkscrewed down the butte and continued on the route. At Oakesdale I found Maggie and Eric seated on benches. Maggie was looking in good spirits, Eric in less than good spirits. I stopped to see what was up. Maggie explained that she had officially made her decision – she was dropping out of the ride. She said that Eric was dropping out, too, but only because she was quitting.

I sensed it was pointless to try to talk her out of it this time.

Alas, suddenly the plot had thickened. I had been under the impression that Eric and Maggie would be hanging around near White Fish after the ride was over. They clarified they were planning to hang around near Spokane after the ride. In fact, friends from Bremerton would be coming with their dog, Ruby, to camp with them.

They were feeling a bit weary and leaning toward heading to Spokane directly. We discussed various possibilities while we loaded the car.

We decided to scout the course, to Plummer, to make sure we knew where everyone was, so we could give a report to Susan. Just inside Idaho there is a fork in the road. Riders can go either direction. The left fork is slightly shorter but involves 1.9 miles of gravel. We went the gravel route, and were surprised how much dust oncoming cars kicked up. Once onto US 95 we headed SOUTH, to cover the other fork. We saw no one. We headed back to Tekoa. This time we saw James Yee. He'd made several wrong turns and now was going to be cutting it close for making the Plummer control.

We headed to Plummer, again taking the gravel fork. Just before the route reached US 305 we encountered John Vincent. He called out for us to stop. We discovered he had decided to drop out. We pointed out that the roof rack was full, as was the car, but agreed to go on to Plummer, drop someone off, and come back to pick him up.

At Plummer we found Lesli and Clyde. They were preparing to head out to the Trail of the Coeur d'Alenes.

We took down Eric's bike and Maggie and I headed back to pick up John. By this time he was already making the descent into Plummer on US 95.

Now the chaos began in earnest. John wanted to DNF, but he wanted to get a ride to Kellogg. The car was rather full, so it didn't look likely that we could give him a ride regardless of where he wanted to go. In retrospect, it was probably a very amusing scene: four brain dead people doing a very intricate dance – trying to avoid stepping on each other's toes while still hoping to end up at the destination that each one thought one wanted to reach.

It was thought that Drew was stationed about 25 miles up the trail. I phoned Susan, but only got the answering service, so I left an update on riders.

John and I went to the only motel, in Plummer, but it was full.

Eric phoned the hotel and was put through to Susan. It didn't sound like anyone was near by who could come to pick up John. We told Susan we'd either show up in Kellogg or go to Spokane.

While all of this was going on a very focused James Yee passed by. Maggie went to the store to check up on him. She returned and reported was that he was doing fine and heading for the trail.

Maggie pointed out that we couldn't just abandon John here. So, the major rearranging of car contents began in earnest. In the end we put Maggie's bike in the car, on top of everything, and John's bike on the rack. We squeezed John into the back seat. Maggie and Eric shared the front passenger seat.

Off we drove, into the night. I was exhausted and Maggie and Eric were rightfully worried that I might be having trouble staying awake. It was probably better having me drive, however, than anyone else.

We headed north, with various packed bodies lobbying for various destinations. We weighed pros and cons, but perhaps in the end the decision was made to go to some place close before the sardines suffered too much more discomfort (and, though I didn't mention it to anyone, before I fell asleep). The sleep deprived portion of my being ached almost as much as if I'd been doing the ride.

We headed north to I-90. At Coeur d'Alene we turned west and were shortly in Spokane. We found an Econolodge near the train/bus station. We were too tired to make any more decisions. We got in our rooms and fell asleep.

In the morning (not many hours later) I got up to explore the included breakfast (aka continental breakfast lite). I associate waking up in Spokane with just having finished Cannonball. Mentally and emotionally I felt somewhat as if I had just finished Cannonball (but for some strange reason my body did NOT feel too abused).

I was still kind of brain dead but tried to sort out the realities of the situation:

John wanted to get to Kellogg (or points further east on the route) and help with support. Maggie and Eric wanted to call it a day, take their car and go to their camping destination, somewhere in the vicinity of Spokane.

I felt entirely burned out. Kellogg seemed a long ways away and I didn't have the wherewithal or inclination to get back in the support saddle. Plus, I seemed to have a mobility problem. It actually wasn't so much a decision, as a realization, that I was going to DNF. Some DNFs are that way (heck, probably MOST DNFs are that way).

John scoped out possibilities. Eastbound Amtrak came through Spokane very late at night. There were rental cars at the airport. We waited 'til Eric and Maggie were awake and told them we'd be taking the car to the airport. I got John to Hertz and he was on his way. I thought of going with him, but my heart wasn't in it. The lack of sleep, too much watching riders crack, lack of proper training for endurance supporting all combined to render me kind of useless – I was down for the count.

I drove back to the Econolodge. Eric and Maggie started reworking the contents of the car. I walked to the Greyhound station. There I discovered the one fast bus to Seattle was sold out.

I wandered back to the Econolodge. I went to the lobby and checked my work e-mail. Sheezes, the boss was mentioning he'd hoped I'd finished something by the last week.

I decided not to phone Susan to inform her of my DNF. I figured she'd received enough phone calls for a while. Hopefully there'd be enough bodies to do support without me. By now everyone had left Kellogg, anyway. This was my first attempt long distance supporting and I had DNFed.