Mike McQuaide

SUNDAY ON GALBRAITH MOUNTAIN

2008-10-05T20:36:00.000-07:00

Kids ride on Sunday afternoon. Bake and five others headed from the north side up to Cedar Dust, then up the dreaded Wall to get to the good stuff. Above, Bake finishes off the killer climb.
Hit the Cabin Trail, so-named because well, there're remains of an old cabin up. Saw nice guy Steve Noble, famed Bellingham chirodoctor, who we somehow always manage to come across when we're up on Galbraith. Kid riders were (and I'm not sure of everyone's name) Jacob, the Twins, Baker, Jacob Gervais, and Caden, I believe. Carin Carter, Glenn Gervais and I were the elders leading and following them about.
Then onto the Three Bears, the group having split in two by this point, and SST which, with his screaming fast descents, high-banked berms, and rolling humps and bumps, is now everyone's favorite. Glenn Gervais, the other semi-adult leader, and I wanted to follow a map which showed a little-used trail leading right to where we parked. Little-used is right as the photo below shows. It required a bit of bush- and branch-whacking, but ended up working out perfectly.
A great ride: like two-and-a-half hours!

Odd sidenote. Yesterday morning, I turned my ankle on the Sunday morning run but thought nothing of it. Finished the run with no problem. Then rode two-and-a-half hours with the kids and started to feel it whenever we took a break from riding. Last night, I could hardly walk. Weird. Hope it doesn't keep me out of the mountain bike duathlon next Sunday.

AREA BOY MAKES IT TO GALBRAITH TOWERS FOR FIRST TIME EVER!

2008-09-29T07:55:00.000-07:00

It started out as a simple ride up on Galbraith Mountain. Birch Street to the Ridge to Cedar Dust, etc. But then where? We decided on the Wall just to open up the mountain a bit and then figured we'd head to the Blue Rock. But y'know, as long as we're there ...
... why don't go up just a little bit higher so Baker can say he's been higher on Galbraith than he's ever been? (That doesn't sound right.) Anyway, long story short, we reached a point where he said, "I'm determined. Let's go to the top!" And we did. Top shot is him hitting the top Tower: elevation: 1,785 feet. (We started from the stairs on Birch Falls Drive, el. about 500.)
From the towers, the Galbraith world was our oyster. We headed down via the Wonderland Trail, Naughty Nellie, Dirty Sock, Keystone, Bottle Opener (kinda annoying), Kaiser, and Mullet. We were whooped by then so just took a couple dirt roads to get to Cedar Dust.

It was truly epic. The epikest ride we've ever done. About three hours and 45 minutes. Mucho fun too. We rewarded ourselves by meeting Jen for dinner at La Fiamma. (By the way, our faire Jen is performing for the next two weekends in "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" at the Bellingham Theatre Guild http://www.bellinghamtheatreguild.com/. Great show!)

Below, please enjoy Bake's visage upon first making it to the Towers.

COLONNADE STORY IN SEATTLE TIMES

2008-09-24T16:50:00.000-07:00

Check out my story about Seattle's Colonnade Bike Park in Thursday's Seattle Times Northwest Weekend section. http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/outdoors/2008200171_nwwbikepark250.html Ken Lambert took some great photos too! Though none quite so picturesque as the one of the raspberry tattoo I received on my left hip-kinda area from a Colonnade fall. (See below.)

FANATIK JUNIORS TEAM RIDE

2008-09-18T21:00:00.000-07:00

Bellingham's Fanatik Juniors Team is looking for road and 'cross riders ages 10 to 17, both male and female. A meet the team ride will be held Oct. 5, leaving Fanatik Bike Co., 2025 James St., B'ham (http://www.fanatikbike.com/) 10 a.m. for a short, easy pace ride to Mount Bakery and points throughout Bellingham. All interested riders age 10 to 17 are welcome. The juniors team is a great way for young riders to learn about racing, training for their first 25-mile ride, or even completing STP in one day.

Also, on November 9th the Shuksan Velo Club (Fanatik Bike Team) is sponsoring a one-day road cycling clinic. The clinic will be led by two former pro cyclists and an active national championship rider and will focus on skill-building to become a better rider, training for your first race, or completing your first century ride. Location: Fairhaven Fitness, 800 McKenzie Ave., Fairhaven. Cost: $20, free to those 17 and under. Space is limited to first 30 and preregistration is required. Participants must have a road bike or 'cross bike. For more information and to register, contact Stewart Bowmer at stewartbowmer@comcast.net or (360) 319-7809.

ANNOYING DAD POSTS YET ANOTHER VIDEO OF MOUNTAIN-BIKING SON

2008-09-16T06:17:00.000-07:00

Baker rips up Galbraith's Cedar Dust Trail.

COLONNADE BIKE PARK

2008-09-14T04:02:00.000-07:00

Headed down for the grand opening of Seattle's new Colonnade Bike Park under the freeway between Eastlake and Capitol Hill. Formerly a haven for junkies and worse, now it's an amazing urban mountain bike park. Incredible trails, spectacular jumps, bridges and teeter-totters, the place was just jaw-droppingly cool. Above, Bake rides one of the many wood-banked turns.
Below, we ride the Limestone Loop, part of the park's cross-country section. (This is more my speed; I wiped out on the banked turn above.)Check out the unicyclist. He's the guy who's currently in the Columbia Sportswear commercial.

Look at these side by side bridges. Like something out of Dr. Suess.

AREA BOY TO BECOME IRON MAN

2008-09-11T10:20:00.000-07:00

BELLINGHAM--Taking advantage of the fact that Ironman Canada didn't sell out in blazing fast speed as it usually does, area boy Mike McQuaide today shelled out way too much money to sign up for what will be his third Ironman Triathlon.

"Well, ain't I lucky?" said the unusually boyish 47-year-old whom some say resembles a young, dashing Johnny Depp. Still others compare him to Lance Armstrong because of McQuaide's prowess for climbing hills on his bike. Then again others, who've heard him play guitar, could swear that McQuaide was the second coming of Jimi Hendrix.

While there is a certain dorkiness factor associated with triathlons, McQuaide was super inspired by the Olympic triathlon races this past August and realized he was eager to get back into it.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Below, check out Paolo Bettini. Today his team announces the signing of Stephan Schumacher (effectively booting Bettini off the team for next year) so what does the Cricket do? He wins today's Vuelta stage. Love that jersey too.

RIDE 542 PHOTOS (mit snarky comments)

2008-09-09T16:56:00.000-07:00

Before the race, John Clark and Noel Phillips (pointing) discuss strategy.

"Let's poke a stick into McQuaide's spokes when he's not looking," Phillips suggests.

"I've already let some air out of his tires," responds Clark. "He's such a moron, he'll never even notice."
Race director Charlie Heggem rides his Dorkway, er, Segway down the mean streets of Glacier as a slightly uncomfortable, somewhat embarrassed crowd looks on.
Tom Fryer, Doug Hyldahl, Chad Clarke, and Dave Bishop aren't sure what to make of seeing Heggem cruise around like that in public.Summit riders take over the mean streets of Glacier.With about 200 meters to the finish line, Mike McQuaide, riding scared, hopes and prays that John Clark has somehow managed to take a wrong turn, perhaps ending up on one of Mount Shuksan's glaciers.

Below, John Clark gives it all he's got with about 150 meters to go.

2008 RIDE 542 (MOUNT BAKER HILL CLIMB)

2008-09-08T07:32:00.000-07:00

With some 750-plus cyclists on Sunday pedaling up and down the last 24.5 miles of the Mount Baker Highway from Glacier to Artist Point you can be sure there were 750 mini-dramas being acted out. This is mine.

I’ve ridden the Mount Baker Hill Climb five of the six times it’s been held; the only one I’ve missed was the epic cold and rainy one of ‘04 because I had to work. (Really, I did. I went mountain biking down in Southwest Washington and wrote a story about it for The Seattle Times.)

That first year (’03) I weighed about 175 and rode a 20-year-old steel bike. I finished in 2:16. Over the years, I’ve upgraded to a much lighter aluminum bike, speedy Mavic SL wheels, and this year, to an even lighter all-carbon bike: a Specialized Tarmac Pro which fairly makes me drool just thinking about it. Meanwhile, my weight’s been downgraded to the mid- to low-160s.

Still, I wanted to go lower. (Not in the name of anorexia, certainly, but when you have a 24-mile race that climbs some 4,300 feet, being as light as possible on race day seems to me as important as any intervals you do ahead of time.) So I was pretty stoked when three days before this year’s race I stepped on the scale and saw 157. I probably haven’t been in the ‘50s since the ‘80s. This was looking good.

So was the weather. Good god, but does Charlie (race director Charlie Heggem) luck out or what? Not a cloud in the sky, no wind and temps just about perfect—mid- to high-60s. The week before I’d ridden to Artist Point and froze me tuchus off on the way back down—it was misty and cold with temps probably high 40s. Brutal.
But enough of my build-up; on to the race.

For me this one was eerily similar to two years ago, when buddy, riding partner, and tuffest race mo-fo I know, John Clark, and I ended up second and third in the Rec division, he pipping me near the end to finish just behind winner Noel Phillips. (Read about that race here: http://mcqview.blogspot.com/2006/09/yet-more-on-mount-baker-hill-climb.html.) He surprised the heck out of me because on just about every pre-ride to Artist Point, I’d drop him early on the Power House Hill, wait for him once we were down the other side, then drop him again once we started the big 10-mile climb to Artist Point. So on raceday, two years ago, he freaked me out when he rode right on my shoulder the whole way, except for when he stood, mashed the pedals a few times and zipped on past me with about a half-mile to the finish. But we race Competitive now where, though there’s no chance of finishing second and third, the exact same scenario was setting itself up. But the element of surprise was gone. Despite his pre-race b**ching and moaning about how he was dreading the race, how he hadn’t been riding, how he was fat, etc. , I suspected that once the race started he’d be right there.

So when I got to the top of the three-kilometer long, 600-foot-high Power House Hill (or in Mike McQuaide parlance, the Nooksack Falls Hill) which I rode very hard, I was not surprised to hear his familiar breathing. (You ride and run with someone as often as John and I do and you’re able to pick out their breathing from 20-strong peloton.) He pulled up next to me and smiled. Nothing malicious. Nothing in-your-face. Just, hey, nice day for a ride, huh?

Good for you, John, was my first thought. But that thought was quickly replaced by, “You dirty, rotten son-of-a-b****, you’re never going to let me beat you at anything, are you?!” Thankfully, that stinkin’ thinkin’ was only momentary and I returned to focusing on the task at hand.

Last year, I finished at 1:39 (a 37-minute improvement from first race in '03) and this year was shooting—whether realistically or unrealistically—for 1:35. The Competitive race started out fast and it’s always that question of how and when do you burn your matches. If you’re going for a time, you want to latch on to some fast wheels for the flatter parts, but not so fast that you overexert yourself trying to hang on. What this race gets down to is about 12 miles of steady climbing--about 2 miles up the Power House, 10 up to Artist Point--where really, it’s up to the individual to come up with the goods.

In the early miles of the race, I could see up ahead of me that riders had split into two big groups, maybe with 25 or 30 in each. First, there were the really fast guys—eventual winners, record-breakers, and $4,000 taker-homers, Ian McKissick and Leah Goldstein—followed by the second group who wished they were up with the first bunch but were probably riding faster than they should be. They were burning matches left and right.

Then there was us. Hard to say how many; I had such tunnel vision, wanted to focus on nothing but riding strong, steady, and safe. Noel was there, as was John, some dude in a Jack’s Bicycle Shop shirt (who unfortunately would later break his chain about halfway up the big climb and end up running for a bit carrying his bike until he was able to borrow a chain tool from someone), and maybe 10 or 12 others. We hit the D.O.T. shed in about 41 minutes and then it was go time—the 10.5-mile, 3,000-foot climb to Artist Point. The dramatic standing and stomping escapes in the Tour de France are exciting as hell to watch but on an hour-long hill like this, they’d be suicide. I’d burn every last match all at once, along with the cover and tips of my fingers. So I didn’t do that. Rather, I just treated it like what it was from that point on: an uphill time trial. If I could find someone to draft off that fit my rhythm exactly, fine. If not, I’d just ride my own pace and leapfrog my way up if the opportunity presented itself.

I think some people were on my wheel (I didn’t turn around; I wanted all my focus to be on moving forward) and soon enough we starting passing and scooping up the folks who’d started out too quick. John’s breathing seemed to come and go and every once in a while, he’d say something like “This is it, Mike. Last time up the mountain this year,” or “Damn, if only Scott (Young) was here, this’d be perfect.” I’d answer in kind when I could and was a little surprised when just below the ravens at the White Salmon Day Lodge (the halfway point of the big climb), Noel pulled up next to me. This was too freaky. Two years ago, Noel, John and I finished one-two-three in the Rec race and here we all were again.

Just after the ravens is my favorite stretch of this ride. The road opens to the right (north) and before you is the stunning ridge of peaks: Tomyhoi, Yellow Aster Butte, Mount Larrabee, Goat Mountain, etc. On a day this past May when my sister called to say that our ill dad was likely to pass on in a few hours , I rode my bike from the D.O.T. shed to Artist Point twice as kind of a tribute to him. He got me into being the outdoor-ish guy I am and thus every time now when I ride this stunning stretch, with its mountains and meadows, it puts me in mind of him. No more so than it did Sunday. Simply, I was overcome.

Like some nut, I blew kisses and peace signs to the ridge and yelled something to the effect of, “This is why we do this!” (The beauty, the mountain, the freedom, I think I meant.) I felt like I could fly. Though the road steepens here, I hammered it and heard John’s fading voice behind me yell, “Go, get ‘em Mike!” At last, I’d snapped the imaginary elastic that'd attached him to my back wheel. I kept up a good pace ‘til I noticed my heart monitor beginning to tickle 180 so I latched on to this Colnago shirt-Rabobank shorts dude who pulled me to Picture Lake just below the upper ski lodge.

And then, oddly, ... I heard this familiar breathing. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw the yellow and black of John’s Fairhaven Bike Racing Team kit. “WTF?!” and similar thoughts flitted through my mind. Two years ago when we were in this situation--John riding my wheel as we got closer and closer to the end--the mental stress was almost two much to bear. Just pass me John, and get it over with, I remember thinking and when finally, he did, I was almost relieved. This past Sunday, though, was different. It wasn’t that I didn’t care if he passed me, I was just really focused on riding the best time I could. As close to 1:35 as possible. And I knew that the best way to do that was to ride it strong and steady with no dramatic attacks that’d feel heroic for about eight seconds but which, after the 45 minutes of climbing we’ve been doing, would leave my quads and hamstrings all seized up with no place to go.

With about a mile and a half left, Colnago-Rabobank guy pulled us up the hairpin turn where Death was hanging out. (Someone in a long robe and a mask like the Scream painting; I heard later that it was Stewart Bowmer, Fanatik race team head honcho.)

“Don’t let me beat you!” John yelled, still riding my back wheel. “You’ve been pulling me up this whole mountain.”

“And I’ll pull you all the way to the top, it doesn’t matter to me,” I said. “You’re my friend.”

Which I’m not sure what I meant; maybe I was looking for some kind of altruistic heroism in defeat.

Just after Death, Colnago-Rabobank guy jumped and broke away from us.

“Go get him! Attack!” John yelled.

I thought, No. Then I thought, Yes! I stood and went after him to John’s encouraging yells. And almost immediately felt the protestations from my quads and hamstrings. I sat back down and let Colnago-Rabobank guy go. He was probably 15 years younger than us anyway.

Thing is, I still felt strong. If I could just keep spinning, ride my own race, I thought maybe I’d be fine. John and I passed through the turn where he got me two years ago, but this time nothing happened—he didn’t zoom past. I rode steady, John hanging on my wheel and just ahead we could see the final straightaway to Artist Point. Probably a quarter-mile, really steep, really painful but oh-so-welcome at this point.

Rounding that last turn it occurred to me that I hadn’t heard his breathing for a few moments, but there was no way I was turning around—focus forward, focus forward, I told myself. Now I went into finish mode—stand and pedal for 10, sit for 10, stand for 10, sit for 10.With about 200 meters to the finish, I heard, then saw Jen and Bake banging their cowbell and cheering me on. I listened intently: was their “Go Mike! Go Mike” followed immediately by a “Go, John!” or was there a little time gap between the two? Unless I was mistaken, I could've sworn there was maybe eight to 10 seconds between them. Was I--dare I even think it?--pulling away from him?Just up ahead, I saw Craig Bartlett and again listened for any interval between cheers. Though Craig cheered with some urgency, I got the sense it was more because the finish line was just around the corner than because John was coming back to me. Entering the final flat 25 meters--when Mount Baker, for whom I named my son, comes into view for the first time--I finally turned around and saw two other riders, but not John. I’d done it. I’d held him off.

Which, of course, mattered to me not at all—I’m not the completive type—but for some reason I found myself so ridiculously relieved, pumped and excited that I crossed the finish line riding no-handed while doing my best Alejandro Valverde victory pose. (See Valverde finish pose a few entries below.) As the race photo shows (http://www.photoreflect.com/pr3/orderpage.aspx?pi=0KXN000J020499&po=499) I'd have done well to have zipped up my cool Quick Step rainbow jersey first.

Afterward, John and I hugged and laughed at the ridiculous pain and good times we put ourselves through. When I wrote this, results weren’t up yet, but we were about 1:37-something with maybe 10 or 12 seconds between us.

That’s my race report. I’ve got other comments, observations that I’ll probably write later this week.

To read my race report on the 2007 Ride 542, go here: (http://mcqview.blogspot.com/2007/09/ride-542-07.html.)

RIDE 542 PHOTOS - 2008

2008-09-07T19:01:00.000-07:00

Here're a few quick pics from today's Mount Baker Hill Climb. Incredible day--weather was glorious, I PR'd by a couple minutes (I'm not exactly sure what my time was--1:37 something, I think; results aren't up yet), and the sassy Mr. Clark and I got to relive our epice battle of two years ago in the Rec division. Only this time it was in the Competitive division which was fast, fast, fast. Above, that's me riding scared hoping John doesn't pass me in the final 200 meters to Artist Point. Below, that's John chasing after me with about 100 meters left. (And Shea Mielke, one of Bake's chums, the boy in blue to the left.)
Afterwards, Steve Vanderstaay, myself, and John aglow before the majesty of Mount Shuksan. And frickin' glad to be off our bikes!
It was a great day. I'll write more tomorrow. Now, I eat!

BETTINI WINS A PIZZA

2008-09-04T19:50:00.000-07:00

Cool shirt on Mr. Bettini, huh? (Just can't bring myself to call it a kit. I come from the world of baseball where we wore uniforms, not kits. Anyway ...) This Sunday I'll be styling like the world champion at Ride 542; Jen and Bake got me that shirt for me birthday a few weeks ago.

Speaking of the Mount Baker Hill Climb ... don't know how RD Charlie Heggem does it, but weather forecast looks good. Real good. Clear skies. Temps probably in the 60s. I'll be riding up with the sassy John Clark and irrepressible Steve Vanderstaay, he of the too many a's in his last name. Below, check out what Paolo Bettini took home for winning today's stage of the Vuelta: a pizza and a big knife to cut it with.

LABOR DAY WEEKEND

2008-09-01T19:26:00.000-07:00

I promise, this is the second to the last bit I'll put up this year about riding my bike to Artist Point. (Ride 542 is Sept. 7 so next week I'll no doubt write something about it. ) Anyway, two weeks ago it was hot, sticky, and sweaty up at Artist Point. Today, it was foggy and 40s. (See above video.)

Frickin' freezing, it felt. Fall has begun up there at 5,100 feet in this far Northwest corner of the Great Northwest with winter soon to follow. The ride back down was miserable; I was shivering so bad I thought I'd pulled my deltoid right out of my latissimus dorsi.

(By the way, I must hear at least once a month that I look Mike Rowe, the dude who hosts "Dirty Jobs", so if you're thinking it, you're not the first one. Perhaps though, you're instead thinking that in my fetching new birthday-present Quick-Step rainbow jersey I look like Tom Boonen--see below--minus the cool hat.)

Sunday, which felt like Saturday this three-day weekend, the family took a pleasant bike ride down the Interurban Trail to Clayton Beach where there are signs to remind you to keep your clothes on. Ok, fine. We skipped stones, Bake climbed the rocks with a buddy he'd met, and afterwards we enjoyed dinner at Fiamma Burger which has good food, but acoustics that always make me feel like I'm suffering from tinnitus.

So let's the ultra-cool Alejandro Valverde and the above Tom Boonen, who've taken the last two stages of the Vuelta a Espana.

CYCLOCROSS ADVENTURES

2008-08-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

Check out the latest issue of Adventures NW magazine (http://www.adventuresnw.com/) which has my story about CX'ploring, exploring the trails and roads around Bellingham by cyclocross bike. Extree cool--that's my cover shot of Mark Peterson and Ryan Rickerts, a couple of local 'cross race promoters. Go to http://www.cyclocrazed.com/ for the latest info on their new race series.

HIKING TO CAMP MUIR

2008-08-28T13:36:00.000-07:00

Check out today's Seattle Times for my story about hiking to Camp Muir on Mount Rainier. Or just click here: (http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/outdoors/2008142238_nwwcampmuir280.html)

METHOW MOUNTAIN BIKING

2008-08-27T14:42:00.000-07:00

The boy Baker and I headed east earlier this week--Winthrop, to be exact. Mountain biking and camping were on the agenda and well ... after that three-hour drive and then pedaling our bikes around for a few hours, then trying to figure out to microwave our dinner at our campsite, we figured one out of two ain't bad. So we stayed at a motel, the Winthrop Inn. (Truth be told, the dad finds camping to be a bit of a hassle 'lest there're others around to help take care of those hassles. Plus, he'd much rather sleep in a bed.)

On the way over we stopped at the Washington Pass Overlook. That's Liberty Bell. I've climbed South Early Winter Spire, the farthest nubbin there on the left, which I never cease to tell people in the hopes that they'll be impressed. (If you've climbed it, you know that you approach it from the other side where it's not nearly so burly.)

Monday afternoon, we mountain biked from the Chickadee Trailhead up by Sun Mountain Lodge where all the rich folks get to stay. We also had the unique opportunity to find out just what you do when the derailleur snaps off the nine-year-old's bike. You ... anyone? ... that's right, you carry the bike yourself and have your son ride yours. (That's Bake riding me K2 Lithium.)

Day two, after dropping Bake's bike at Methow Cycle and Sport, we headed east, up over Loup Loup Pass to Omak because there's a skateboard park there. Kinda. Pretty run down. Pretty depressing. Pretty much wanted to get the heck out of Omak almost as soon as we got there. But hey, it killed a few hours and Loup Loup is definitely something I shall return and ride someday. Perhaps soon. (The Methow's Fall Bike Festival www.mvsta.com/summer/bikefest.html?)

Back at our Methow motel, Bake swam ... ... then we picked up his bike--now with a new derailleur--and headed back up to Chickadee. Pedaled 'round Beaver Pond then climbed to Sun Mountain Lodge from where we enjoyed a screamin' descent back down. The boy's new derailleur worked like a charm.

Back to B'ham this afternoon. A great trip!

TWO WEEKS 'TIL RIDE 542

2008-08-24T18:07:00.000-07:00

The sassy John Clark and I rode once again to Artist Point for probably the last time before the Mount Baker Hill Climb which takes place Sept. 7. Came across lots of folks on bikes climbing and descending. Met up with Randy Olsen who was riding with (but on his own bike) the above tandem, powered by a very nice couple whose names unfortunately, escapes me.

Muriel Handschy and a friend were also up there. She's doing Ride 542 which should be a piece of cake for her. Click here http://www.bellinghamherald.com/513/story/488745.html to read about her family's epic six-week European bike vacation through Austria, Slovakia, Poland, Czech Republic and Germany. (Our sons are classmates and pals.)Bake and I are likely off to Winthrop tomorrow for a couple days of mountain biking and sleeping on the hard ground. That's right; we're camping, baby!

HIDDEN LAKE HIKE

2008-08-21T13:32:00.000-07:00

With hiking season being upon us, I thought it might be useful to revisit some stories I've written about my favorite places in the mountains. This one focuses on Hidden Lake Peak, a spectacular hike just east of Marblemount off Highway 20 in the North Cascades. Along with a really cool fire lookout cabin--that you can stay in overnight--it offers spectacular views. (You can read about it below or in my North Cascades book there to the right.)

In this story, me partner in crime is Rick Lingbloom, a super nice guy and teacher at Northern Heights Elementary School in B'ham. Unfortunately, ol' Rick has gone on to the dark side: he's no longer a trail runner but rather an elitist surf skier.

Here's the story, which first ran in The Seattle Times:

Lookout above: A classic North Cascades destination and a reminder of why to go

"Our mothers would not be happy right now."

That's the third time my friend Rick Lingbloom has said this, and like the two other times, it's not left me all a-burst with confidence. He's about 30 feet above me as we scramble up Hidden Lake Peak, a pyramid of rocks that tops out at 7,088 feet, about 15 miles east of Marblemount, Skagit County.

For a moment, I raise my eyes from the rock and wow as my personal IMAX-mountain-vision includes an all-star line-up of North Cascade peaks — Eldorado, Torment, Forbidden, Boston, Sahale, Snowking, Baker, Glacier, even Rainier. This is manna from heaven for mountain lovers.

This isn't a technical climb (no ropes needed), basically just a hands-and-feet crawl up a 500-foot pile of car-door-sized granite slabs that happen to lie on top of each other more or less horizontally. Holds are huge and we stick to the rock like Velcro, so it's a mostly safe-feeling climb. Except for when Rick, who like me is much more a hiker than a rock climber, steps on a slab that rocks a little bit.

"I don't know about this," he says. "Our mothers would definitely not be happy."

Usually, though, he's laughing when he says these things and that removes any fear that we'll end up in Outside magazine, the subjects of an "Into Thin Air"-type tragedy.

We set out early this September morning on a trail run/hike to Hidden Lake Lookout, a retired fire observation station built in 1931 and maintained for the past 30-plus years by Friends of the Hidden Lake Lookout, a Skagit County Group. The Hidden Lake Trail is steeper than I remembered — I'd hiked it before but not tried running it — and about a half-mile from the trailhead, our trail run morphs into a speed-hike. Which is fine, because not long after passing through a forest of silver fir, we begin a switchbacking, elevation-gobbling ascent up the Sibley Creek basin.

With the sun rising above the Hidden Lake Peaks — there are actually several Hidden Lake Peaks; the one we eventually climb is the most prominent — we ascend a grand amphitheater of purple lupine and crimson paintbrush, mini-waterfalls and jagged crags. Cheeky marmots, fuzzy lumps lazing on boulders in the sun, whistle at us from across the valley.

After about 2.5 miles and 1,800 feet of climbing, the grade eases as the trail traverses south across heathery meadows and granite boulder fields. We're running again and are rewarded with emerging views to the west of Mount Baker and Twin Sisters, and deep down into the evergreen valley of the Cascade River. About a mile farther, after a couple rock-garden switchbacks, the lookout comes into view a few hundred feet above us. I spot it before Rick and am impelled to pull one of the oldest (and dumbest) tricks in the book.

"Look out!" I yell, as if he were about to become prey for a low-flying pterodactyl.

"Oh yeah, there it is," Rick says, ignoring my attempt at humor.

After ascending a short, snow-filled, rock-rimmed gully we reach a notch at about four miles (6,500 feet) and are instantly awash in North Cascade peaks. It's all bright sun and glaciers, valleys, forests and sky-kissing spires as far as the eye can see. Below us, jewel-like Hidden Lake — the lake and peak's namesake — sparkles in the sun, a few mini-icebergs afloat in its shallows.

With the lookout in sight, we head to the right (south) and climb a technical trail that snakes through boulders and is at times hard to follow. It's about a half-mile more and 300 feet higher to the lookout. Fading red dots spray-painted on boulders at key spots lead the way, as do cairns placed by those who've gone before. After a hands-and-feet crawl up the final few yards, we reach the lookout: a small wood box bolted to a pile of rocks. It's available for overnight stays on a first-come basis and in fact, just as we arrive at about 11 a.m. on a Saturday, a couple who'd spent the night are heading down. "There's no charge if you're poor or a college student, but most people send between $10 and $25," said Dr. Fred Darvill, a Northwest climbing legend and author who heads up the Friends of Hidden Lake. "Of course if you're Bill Gates or someone like that, you probably should leave several thousand dollars."

(EDITOR'S NOTE: Sadly, Darvil, a true Northwest legend, recently passed away.)

Darvill said it costs about $300 a year to maintain the lookout. There are pre-addressed donation envelopes inside. We also find a double bed, blankets, dishes, propane stove, pots, pans, maps and 360-degrees worth of mountains — a room with a view if there ever was one.
A bookshelf stuffed with paperback bestsellers and mountain guidebooks offers a title that catches my eye: "The Madams of San Francisco" by Curt Gentry. Something to curl up with on a lonely night in the mountains, I suppose.

Rick and I made pretty good time to the lookout, so we spring for dessert — the scramble up Hidden Lake Peak. As the raven flies, it's about a half-mile northeast of the lookout and, at 7,088 feet, about 200 feet higher. First though, we descend to the notch where earlier we went right toward the lookout. Once there, we find a trail heading up in the opposite direction, which soon turns to large flat boulders and from there, we're pretty much on our own. We stay to the left of the ridge (the Mount Baker side) and are able to find mostly big, bomber-hold rocks — that only occasionally moved — all the way to the top.

"This is the peak, baby!" Rick calls back to me after about 20 minutes of scrambling.

I look up and above the large granite flake where he's perched, I see nothing but blue sky. A couple minutes later, I join him. Though it doesn't seem possible, the views, which were stupendous at the lookout (and the notch below the lookout), are even more so from the peak. It's like we've stepped out onto the wing of an airplane. Wedged in the rocks we find a plastic tube containing the summit register and while I click off photos, Rick fills it in.

"What kind of trail run is this, McQuaide?" he writes.

An amazing one. A little steep maybe, but amazing nonetheless.

TO GET THERE: For the Hidden Lake Lookout hike, take Interstate 5 to Exit 230 at Burlington, Skagit County, and go east on Highway 20 (North Cascades Highway) for about 40 miles to Marblemount. Just past Milepost 106, go straight onto Cascade River Road where Highway 20 takes a hard left. Cross a bridge over the Skagit River and continue on Cascade River Road for 9.8 miles to Forest Road 1540. Turn left and follow the rough, narrow gravel road for 4.7 miles to the road-end trailhead. Elevation: 3,500 feet. Northwest Forest Pass required for parking.
Statistics: Nine miles round-trip; add about a mile if you scramble up Hidden Lake Peak. Elevation gain: 3,400 feet. High point: 6,890 for lookout, 7,088 for Hidden Lake Peak.
Safety: This hike/run/climb took place on a windless, sunny day when there hadn't been precipitation for at least a month, and the trail was about as melted out as it ever gets. Snow, rain or any kind of bad weather will raise the difficulty level significantly and raise safety issues as well, especially the higher you go. Check the weather forecast and the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest Web site (www.fs.fed.us/r6/mbs) for the latest conditions, or call Mount Baker Ranger District, 360-856-5700. And always go prepared with the hiker's Ten Essentials (maps, compass, flashlight/headlamp, extra food and water, extra clothing, sunglasses, first-aid kit, pocket knife, matches and fire starter).

THURSDAY'S SEATTLE TIMES

2008-08-20T19:11:00.000-07:00

Check out Thursday's Northwest Weekend section of the Seattle Times (http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/outdoors/2008127969_nwwbakerride210.html) for my story on this year's Ride 542 (http://www.norkarecreation.com/) coming up Sept. 7. Charlie Heggem's added a century ride for folks itching to ride to Artist Point twice (as well as ride the Powerhouse Hill twice), and a 10K Trail Run. And, like last year, there'll be a cyclocross race at Silver Lake Park the day before the hill climb. (If they could only have the 'cross race the day after the hill climb, I'd be all over it.)

FAIR DAYS OF AUGUST

2008-08-12T14:28:00.000-07:00

Northwest Washington Fair last week. Lotsa heat, lotsa sun, lotsa Bake spinning 'round and 'round on the Sizzler. Kid next to him looks like she's holding on for dear life. Or trying to get comfortable so she can take a nap; one of the two.

Rode from Glacier to Artist Point Saturday during what passes for a heat wave here--temps in the 80s! Didn't hear from John or Scott so I headed up on my own. First time riding a big mountain since the Cayuse crack at RAMROD a few weeks ago. Felt good to get this one under my belt. Met a guy named Bob from Edmonds. (That's him below.) He was on his annual birthday ride wherein he rides twice as many miles as his age. He was doing 110 that day. From Maple Falls (I gather) to Artist Point, back to Bellingham and then Lummi Island. Kind of a cool idea. I didn't talk to him that long but he said he'd ridden the Alps, the Pyrenees, Alpe D'Huez, etc. Said he didn't do RAMROD this year b/c he was riding in Colorado and he's not doing the Mount Baker Hill Climb because he'll be in Japan. So I think he's some sort of captian of industry who spends his disposable income in the same way I would were I to have some.

CAMP MUIR - MOUNT RAINIER

2008-08-08T08:18:00.000-07:00

So intrigued was I by the big mountain during last week's RAMROD that on Wednesday past I headed down to Mount Rainier for a story I'll be writing for the Seattle Times about day-hiking to Camp Muir. It's an incredible place, the Paradise area of Mount Rainier, akin to Mount Baker's Heather Meadows-Artist Point Area. Only bigger. Much bigger. Below, a field of magenta paintbrush, which are everywhere up there right now.
From Paradise, elev. 5,420 feet, I set out for Camp Muir, elev. 10,000 feet, just a hair lower than Mount Baker's summit. Once on the Muir Snowfield (not a glacier so no crevasses to worry about), I followed boot track and wands that were still in place from earlier in the summer.
It's a strenous hike--about 5 miles with 4,700 feet of climbing one-way--but after about 3-1/2 hours I arrived at the below-pictured Camp Muir. It's base camp for most of the 10,000-plus folks who annually climb to the summit of 14,441-foot Mount Rainier.
Camp Muir is a whole village unto itself with climbing rangers (who pretty much live up there and have their own hut), a stone shelter for those who want to stay inside away from the elements (and likely wrestle with mice all night long), and several privies.
Below, check out the trail runner descending Camp Muir. I've no idea if he ran up too.

RAMROD 2008

2008-08-01T15:26:00.000-07:00

Team Unattacked attacked the big one, Mount Rainier, on Thursday as Johnny "America's Little Buttercup" Clark, Scott "Pink Boy" Young, and Mike "Cayuse Pass's Whipping Boy" McQuaide, took part in the 25th annual RAMROD (Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day).
At 151 miles with 9,750-feet of elevation gain, it was killer strenuous but truly spectacular. The best ride Scott and John had ever been on, they said. Above, we're about to start our journey at 5:15 a.m. under cover of semi-darkness. Below, check out the cool lenticular cloud hovering like a halo about the summit of 14,410-foot Mount Rainier. The thing grew and expanded throughout the day and at one point looked almost like the rings around Saturn.

Put on by the Redmond Cycling Club (http://www.redmondcyclingclub.org/), RAMROD is certainly one of the best events I've ever participated in. The food is good, the organization and volunteers are tops, and the course can't be beat. There're two big climbs--10 miles up to Inspiration Point and 11 miles to Cayuse Pass, both which top out at roughly 4,700 feet. In between, there's a smaller one to Backbone Ridge, which is fairly harmless.

Below, please note musicians who were up and playing for the pre-ride breakfast at 4:30 a.m. That's a tough gig. (I said to Scott, "Can you imagine having to play music at 4:30 in the morning?" To which some guy who overheard me, said: "Can you imagine having to listen to music at 4:30 in the morning?")

The first climb doesn't start 'til about 60 miles in so there's lots of time to eat, drink, try to warm up (it must've been in the high 40s at the start), as well as find lots of other wheels to tuck in behind. I did RAMROD four years ago and then we road all the way to Paradise, this time they had us top out Inspiration Point, about 600 feet lower. Which I was kind of glad about; for whatever reason, I wasn't feeling super stellar. (More on that in a moment.) The following descent was ridiculously fun, fast, and most important, felt relatively safe, wrote this author who's usually a pretty conservative (not politically, er anything) descender. Smooth roads, not a whole lot of turns, zero to very few cars, and long, long straightaways where you could see far ahead of you.

"There's no amusement park ride that's as fun as that," Scott said. (All the descents were like that in fact: screamin' meamie fun.)
After Backbone Ridge came the 11-mile, 2,500-foot climb to Cayuse Pass where I partook in an involuntary reenactment of Floyd Landis's famous crack on La Toussuire during Stage 16 of the 2006 Tour de France. (That's the one that spurred his epic beer-, testosterone-, whatever the hell else-fueled comeback the following day.) At the bottom of the hill, which starts at about mile 100, I didn't feel good. A mile into it, I felt less good and a mile later, blurted out an inadvertent "Oh fudge!" (or something that sounded like "Oh fudge!") and told the guys, Sorry, but I'm cooked, cracked, knackered, and no good to nobody nowhere. I was like a balloon with the air let out; I had no power at all.

John and Scott were great, super patient and just hung with me as we conquered the hill at a blistering 7 miles per hour! Oh well, as Tony Soprano would say, What'ya'gonna do? Below, see photo of a completely spent McQ after having finally made it to the top.

After the descent, we were treated to sandwiches of our choice and the best tasting icy cold can of Coke I've had in my entire life. From there, it was about 30 miles of downhill and flat during which the indefatigable John and Scott pulled about eight of us into the finish at Enumclaw. Below, that's us at the finish. Our stats: 151 miles with 9,750 feet elevation gain. Eight hours 57 minutes of riding time, about 10 hours and 15 minutes total time. (We finished at about 3:30 p.m.)
Coming up in the next few days: the harrowing story of lost motel reservations, our new digs next door to a casino and airport, and Mike wrestles with a roll-out bed. Here's a photo to whet your appetite:

YET MORE ARTIST POINT

2008-07-21T17:39:00.000-07:00

We tried riding Bellingham to Baker and Back (BBB) back in Juneuary and were rained-, chilled-, and winded-out just past Maple Falls. (Not to mention that John didn't have fenders so every time I rode behind him I'd get a faceful of water; great for a moisturizing my skin but otherwise quite unpleasant.) Recently though, we've had nothing but glorious weather for about three weeks straight, so last Wednesday we got 'er done. An added bonus: we were able to ride all the way to Artist Point. Total ride stats: 120 miles with 7,600-plus feet elevation gain. Photo below is of Artist Point with Mount Shuksan in the background. (Not sure what to make of my somewhat defiant-seeming posture and expression. ) Above, a short vid of John on the final three-mile stretch.

Had another one of those funny (albeit a tad uncomfortable) happenins at Graham's in Glacier where, for whatever reason, they seem to hate cyclists. (Or just us; I'm not quite sure.) On our way up the mountain, John handed the clerk a five dollar bill to which she said, "Y'know, nobody wants your sweaty money. A plastic bag would be nice." She then made a great show of placing the bill in her till as if she were disposing of a dead mouse.

It's not the first time we've earned their ire. And believe me, we wouldn't spend our money there if it weren't the only game in town. (And perhaps some of the folks there wouldn't be so surly if they had a little competition.) But Glacier's got Graham's and Milano's--a great Italian restaurant--and that's it. As it was, we had to stop there on the way back and reload. (I was seein' spots and needed to eat.) Luckily, the dude working there this time was fine.

Finally, my Tour de France prediction made on Monday, the final rest day: Menchov first, Evans second, Van deVelde third.

We're off to New Jersey for family function to say good-bye to me da who passed away in May. (Take it easy, PJ!)

ARTIST POINT ABOUT TO OPEN

2008-07-13T20:59:00.000-07:00

Above, Bake and I sumo wrestling. (No explanation needed.)
On Saturday, I made it to Artist Point for the first time this year. The road is clear, not yet for cars, but good enough for me and the dozens of walkers I saw taking advantage of the stunning weather we've been having lately. (I assume the road will be clear for cars by next weekend, about a week earlier than last year. Kinda surprising given this rainy, damp spring and Juneuary we whined about just weeks ago.)

Below see bulldozer poised to doze some of Artist Point's 10-foot snowpiles. It was important to get in some big mountain climbing; RAMROD--Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day--beckons in little more than two weeks.Our lovely sis Kath was here for a visit and of course we took her up the Mount Baker Highway. (Not on a bike, mind you; this photo is about five days previous.) It was a wonderful visit; as usual, way too short, but long enough for her to get hooked on the Tour de France and "Deadliest Catch," and also to look at a few neighborhoods if she decides to relocate out here.
The boy Baker--he of skateboarding fame--and I have been riding lots to Galbraith and the back trails at Padden.
Here he descends Padden ...
... and here he finishes off climbing the Wall at Galbraith which, if you can climb that, you can pretty much climb anything there. Good job, boyo!

JUNEUARY NO MORE

2008-06-29T16:17:00.000-07:00

Summer came to Bellingham this weekend and this time it seems like it's here to stay. John Clark, America's Sweetheart, and I took advantage and headed up the Mount Baker Highway as far as it's plowed, just past the upper ski lodge. (See video above.) It was John's first time up with his compact crank, which I ask him about, and as I pull ahead I make some unintelligable comment about how he better get used to this view.

Here, the boy Baker flies high at the Burlington Skatepark, about 25 minutes south of B'ham. Nice blue sky, huh? We've had it for a few days now and I think we've got two more coming. Last week, the McQuaides welcomed a new addition to the family: a Specialized Tarmac Pro delivered via craigslist. That's me (the proud papa) below trying to nudge John out of the photo opp. Up at the ski area, we went around the gate and kept riding for as far as we could. As you can see the snow banks are still pretty high. Great day. Great ride. About 45 miles with 4,400 feet climbing. Felt pretty darn hot, actually, which isn't too common out these parts. We saw many riders just heading up as we were finishing and we didn't envy them at all.

It won't be our last time up. We've got RAMROD in about a month so we've got to get some big mountain mileage in our legs.