I had always wanted to do the Mt Baker climb (Kulshan) but had only ever been up there by car for hiking. So when it popped up as a July brevet, I could not resist. For reasons I won’t get into, the days before the event were really, really not conducive to a restful leadup. So I showed up on Saturday morning, kind of sort of just barely ready to go. It was already hot at 6:45am, which was a bit ominous. Andrew regaled us with tales of roasting on the previous week’s pre-ride, and just before pulling out, Mike H. muttered ‘not looking forward to this’ and I knew this was shaping up to be a very long day.

We worked our way east through the Fraser Valley, heading towards the Sumas border crossing. The ride along Zero Avenue with Colin was quite pleasant, with light traffic and plenty of bikes. We were passed by a number of club pacelines, as well as by occasional triathlon time-trialers. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but the tri crowd seems to take themselves very seriously. The full extent of a typical interaction out on the roads is usually a barked command—'ON YOUR LEFT’. But to each his own.

Over the border, the agricultural geography continued, but not for long, as the road steepened on the climb up to Silver Lake. This turned out to be a very pleasant and quiet 2 lane spin through forest and rural properties. Much of this part fortunately was shaded as well. At one point, I spied someone filling up jugs of water from a pipe emerging from a steep slope. I stopped to check it out and the woman told me it was the best natural spring water available, so I had a quick refreshing ‘shower’ and enjoyed the coolness which lasted nearly until Glacier.

From Glacier on, I tag-teamed up the climb with Benjamin, who was wisely going at a measured pace. I would pass him, then stop at any little stream to soak my cap, neck gator, and jersey, and then he would pass me, and so on. I really do not like riding in intense heat, and my strategy was to do everything I could to keep a lid on body temperature. When the climb popped out into the alpine, the road was totally exposed, and it felt like riding in a rotisserie—albeit with a really nice view. A number of stops to stuff snow down the back of my jersey helped to some extent.

Mike and Andrew had a welcome tent at the top to get out of the sun, which was much appreciated. I pulled out the one piece of gear that I never thought I would have needed on a bike ride—a pair of ballet tights (that my wife kindly volunteered), stuffed them full of snow, draped them around my neck, and proceeded down the long descent. The snow and cooling effect lasted until Glacier. Incredibly, by then the snow had all melted and everything was nearly bone dry. The descent was long and fun, but the road definitely was not as smooth and predictable as the local Vancouver mountain roads.

The heat and effort was messing with my gut--solid food of any sort had become nauseating, and I could barely even stomach electrolytes. As it turned out, I rode the last 150kms drinking only water and the occasional swig of electrolytes, which was really not ideal. In retrospect, I should have swilled a Coke at the summit, and then survived on sugar beverages for the rest of the journey, but my heat addled brain was not working at full capacity.

I don’t know what it is, but I always breathe a little easier on the Canadian side of the border, and that was without hearing about the Trump assassination attempt until I was back in New West. I started the zig-zag back through the baking Fraser Valley but was feeling like crap, so figured it was time to switch things up. I pulled off the road, found a shaded patch of grass, lay down and almost immediately drifted off. It was like finding a lush oasis after wandering in the Sahara, and I seriously considered spending the night. It was very hard to leave.

By now I had given up any hope of a speedy finish, and my objective was to just finish period. The temperature was dropping a bit, and it continued to get more and more reasonable as the evening set in. To my surprise, this turned out to be some of the most pleasant riding of the day—quiet rural roads, with rolling agricultural fields in the foreground and jagged silhouetted mountains on the horizon.

And then it was just a matter of getting through the Surrey maze. I was surprised at the extent of cycling infrastructure, which included separated bike lanes, clear signage, and mostly quiet routes. At one point I was parched and out of water, but while riding through Tynehead Park came across drinking fountains specifically for cyclists. I nearly wept with gratitude. In the same park, I was also accosted by many kamikaze bunnies who would dart in front of me at the last second. I’ll take bunnies over cars any day.

Overall the route was great, and had the novelty of a border crossing and a long climb up a volcano. As usual, thanks to the organizers and volunteers. And congrats to the other randos—I was pleased to see there were no DNF’s in spite of the hot weather.

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