While biking, I realized my mind had warped into iTunes 12.2.1.1

Almost to the top of Cayuse Pass looking down the valley to where I started.

Biking up Cayuse Pass, I realized my mind had warped into the latest version of iTunes, stuck on the same song playing over and over because I no longer knew how to change it.

All the screens were unfamiliar, the buttons had been moved around, nothing was where it used to be. Just like Apple does when the algorithm they have tells them their millions of users have become comfortable with the last set of changes they made in the program.

That’s when they find some wonk back in their skunkworks who is spending too much time battling orcs and tell him, “Change the looks, put the controls in different places and make it look like improvements have been made, just like we did with iPhoto.” Half hour later, the programmer is back in the Alterac Mountains, and millions of iTune users are trying to get their devices off the song they were playing before they hit the “update” button.

For me, on the bike ride, that was Joe Ely singing “The RoadGoes On Forever,” which is a helluva song and an appropriate one for climbing up a mountain pass. On iTunes 12.1,000,000 I could only recall the chorus: “The road goes on forever and the party never ends.” I had no idea the lyrics are about robbery and murder until I got back home. I once owned a 410, but I swear I never shot a lawman of any kind.

The Cayuse climb came on Tuesday, the last day of what was supposed to be a four-day ride. But it got cut short on the front end when I woke up early Saturday morning with diarrhea and decided spending the day on a bike was not a good idea (and as my friend Fred pointed out, it would have been even worse for riders behind me).

So Saturday and my portion of the Seattle to Portland ride was out. I was feeling better by late afternoon and wanted to make use of the remaining three days. I bought an Amtrak ticket to Kelso, WA, rode to the King Street Station in Seattle on Sunday morning and arrived in southwestern Washington mid-morning on Sunday. It cost me $5 to stash the bike in the baggage car, and I caught a glimpse of some of the 10,000 or so riders in the STP somewhere around Napavine.

Appropriate size for bike riding.

My plans took me off the STP route, down through Kalama and Woodland, then up to Cougar, WA, where I spent the night in a bed and breakfast. This was what Moss, a sometimes spin-class colleague, calls a “credit card” ride. The only gear you carry is your wallet, tooth brush (I used to laugh at hikers who cut their brushes in half to save weight, but I did it for space on this ride) and tooth paste. Stop for a meal before you arrive at the night’s destination, check in to the hostelry, shower and pass out. No evening clothes for the Cougar Bar and Grill.

Lake Merwin on the Lewis River.

Two bad things happened that first day: The hill up Lane Road north of Woodland and the Ariel Tavern being closed. The tavern is the annual site of the D.B. Cooper Fest, and attendees swear the infamous plane hijacker always appears at the party although he never reveals himself.

Day Two took me through the Gifford Pinchot National Forest on the east side of Mount St. Helens. Another big climb but the reward was an amazing descent down into Randle where I spend an hour eating lunch and dinner before pushing up to Packwood. Thank you, Washington DOT, for the wide shoulder on Highway 12.

Elk grazing in a Packwood yard.

Then came Cayuse Pass. A friend says I would enjoy my rides more if I dumped the odometer and just rode. But I rely on it to give me at least an inkling of how far I am from anything (I guess you meant it when you said, “Get lost”). I admit that checking it constantly does constitute an obsession, one that I could not overcome on Tuesday. My concession was to take off my watch and not keep track of the time it took to make the climb. It was just Joe Ely and I, four passing bike riders, a few vehicles, two elk and a coyote on the way up to the junction with Highway 410 where I checked my watch. Four and a half hours to go 24.5 miles. Slower than slow.

The next 24 miles to the Naches Tavern in Greenwater got done in one hour and 20 minutes. A half-pound hamburger and a bowl of beef noodle chili fueled the 64 miles into Seattle for 111 miles on Tuesday. Add that to 62 on the first day and 82 on the second. Lots of quiet mountain time, some rain on Monday when I turned 67 and no more diarrhea. Could I ask for anything more?

Yes, change the music, please.

 

Back in Seattle: Native American canoe on Lake Washington, the city of Bellevue in the background.