Old Dog Learns New Tricks
By: Melissa Rosaaen“Do you think we should pay attention to that sign?” Rick says just a little sarcastically as he pedals up next to me. “What sign?”, I gasp, as I down-shift. He laughs. “Oh, you know. The huge one back there that reads, ‘Trail Closed’”. We had been training for our big ride across Europe for about 2 weeks, but this was our first fully packed and loaded “shake-down cruise.” That means we are carrying everything we thought we might need for our upcoming adventure and riding the minimum number of miles we expected to be traveling daily. We chose a course with a difficulty of about a 5 on a 1 to 10 scale. The math was perfect. It all worked out on paper. Park our car at a friend's house in Port Angeles, Washington, ride about 30 miles to the town of Sequim, Washington, on the gorgeous Olympic Discovery Trail, spend the night and then ride back the next day. An actuary’s dream. All the numbers added up to the ideal trial run. No problem. Except this is the Pacific Northwest and the Olympic Peninsula no less. We’ve seen plenty of road closure signs in the past and are frankly quite happy to get due warning. I mean, every cycling excursion we had in SE Asia always, and I mean always, had some sort of surprise. Trail ends suddenly at a newly constructed cement wall. Potholes that we nicknamed Elephant Footprints because they spanned the entire width of a road just beyond a blind turn. Or the trail that runs right through a military base and to continue, you must ride by the monkey-infested trees hoping they (the monkeys) are friendly. No, a sign is a good thing. And what we’ve learned is that these signs, at least in the US, are set up about a mile ahead of whatever the problem is. Cause we’ve seen these signs before - a few times. So, what do we do? The obvious. We continue riding. |
