I wanted to write about my experiences because when I looked for information on this ride, I couldn't find any. First I'll provide some general information then I'll give you the play by play.

The ride starts in Glacier, which is the last civilization before the ski-area. The ride ends in Artist's Point, located about 2 miles above the upper ski-area. Total distance one-way is 24.5 miles. The Mt. Baker highway is highway number 542, which is conveniently the same digits as the distance but backwards--a little piece of ride trivia for you.

The road is paved the entire way although there were a few sections of gravel that were still being worked on. They should be fixed before the ski season this winter. The last 5 miles of the ride up, the pavement gets fairly rutted; it takes a pretty good beating from the snow plows.

I practiced for this ride by riding various streets in Bellingham (my hometown) to get ready. Mainly I rode up and down Yew Street, my longest ride repeating from Iowa to Democrat five times in a row. To get the equivalent climbing distance you'd probably have to ride it eight times in a row, but I felt pretty good after five so I figured I would do alright. None of the pitches on the road to Mt. Baker are especially steep. Yew street hill and Alabama hill are definitely steeper. At the steepest it is like Barkley hill from Brandywine to Chandler, except about 2 miles long!

6:00 am - Wake up, final bike prep, eat half a muffin for breakfast. I'm incredibly nervous and can't eat much. It is dark and overcast. The bed of my truck has half an inch of water in it. I throw my bike in anyway as I've already paid my entry fee.

6:40 am - Depart Bellingham

7:30 am - Arrive Glacier. On the way I've traveled through a couple different rain showers. Sky is still dark and rain looks imminent. There are parking signs everywhere and it is obvious where the registration tent is. At least that part will be easy. I put on my clothes in the comfort of my truck.

7:40 am - I emerge from my truck and walk to the registration tent. It is raining very lightly. I stand in a big line which is for those who pre-registered. Those who didn't pre-register have almost no line. Ahh, the irony. Just before I reach the tent it begins to rain hard, so we all huddle under cover while we wait.

7:50 am - I return to my truck to get my bike and begin warming up. I am dressed like an alien. I have my long-sleeve jersey, a vest over that, and a waterproof coat over that. I am wearing tights over bike shorts. On my feet I have my standard mountain-style SPD shoes with waterproof booties over the top. I only take comfort in that fact that I'm going to be riding with a bunch of other aliens so I won't look so out of place.

At the registration tent they said you could put gear in two particular trucks and they would have it for you at the top. I had my pannier so I opted not to take advantage of it. If I had an extra bag I would have thrown it in because I would put my extra warm-up pants in there. But I figured that I'd be warm enough with the stuff I had so I didn't bother.

The road is wet but the rain is down to a sprinkle. I ride a few laps on the road to warm up. A pre-race meeting is called to announce that that the start time has been delayed from 8:00 to 8:15. There are a variety of bikes, both road and mountain of all different price-levels. I see some bikes worth over $2000 and some that retail for under $200. I think I'm the only one with a rack and a pannier and full fenders. I see a couple others with racks and a few more with fenders, but most are mountain bikes. I debate whether I should strip them but decide that it is not worth the hassle and the extra pound or so. I'm not riding to win, only to finish before the three-hour time limit.

I brought two waterbottles, one with water and one with PowerAde sports drink. Most people have two bottles or are wearing Camelbaks, so I'm in good company.

8:15 am - I remove my waterproof coat to start since you can see the first hill from the starting line. I am slightly chilled but know that I'll warm up quickly. For the start of the race we line up about three-abreast along the side of the road. I am probably at least one hundred bikes back from the start.

We go up the first grade and immediately everyone thins out. Mostly I just try to stay in a small group of about 10 near the back. There is really no pack here that I can see, just a long line of small groups. The first hill stretches out everyone and the sight distances are too small to be able to see the front of the ride. I talk it up with some of the folks as we ride. The first 15 miles follow a gradual grade with some rolling hills randomly interspersed. I gobble down a power bar and drink about half my PowerAde bottle. The rain has been pretty constant so far, just a medium rain with no wind.

After 15 miles our group is down to four, two mountain bikers and another road biker and myself. The mountain bikers have horns and bells and fenders so I fit right in. The road biker is from Kenmore and we talk about biking and kids. The grade begins to steepen and pretty soon we have left the two mountain bikers behind, although not far. We ride a few miles of steep hills and decide to stop for a quick stretch of our lower backs. As we stop and stretch, the mountain bikers go by, hooting and hollering.

I eat one of my granola bars while we stretch. We hop back on and ride for about ten minutes when we pass the mountain bikers stopped on the side of the road for a stretch. I ring my bell a couple times and we continue on.

At some point we pass the lower ski area. It is hard to tell how far it is from the top. The road condition begins worsen and there seems to be more rain running across the road. I am thankful for my full fenders. My feet still feel fairly dry and warm.

There are patches of gravel in the road where they are building culverts to divert water. These are somewhat tricky while going up but are going to be very scary when coming back down.

Up, up up. Finally I can see parts of the upper ski-area. The road turns into a one-way loop and it flattens out substantially. Apparently this is the calm before the storm because after you leave the one-way ski-area loop for the Artist's Point road, the grade becomes the steepest of the entire ride and you still have over two miles to go.

This portion is especially demoralizing. The rain is very hard now, almost a downpour. There is a sheet of water covering the entire road. I notice that the rocks in the road surface are green colored and I wonder if it is from local rocks (copper?). As you peer up the mountain you can see the road above you, very high up. Each time you reach that road it seems as if another one takes it's place. We are about half-way up this climb when the first competitive racer overtakes us as we cheer him on. At this point we are not sure if they were released at 9:00 as scheduled or late at 9:15 like us.

My riding partner stops to stretch. I want to keep going so I wish him luck and tell him that I'll see him at the top. I continue on, occasionally standing on the pedals to get a break for my lower back. My time is about 2 hrs, 20 mins, so I'm pretty confident I'll finish around my goal time, 2 hrs, 40 mins. As I stand up to pedal I can feel that I'm starting to cramp up. I stop and try to stretch my quads but my hamstring decides to cramp. I give up stretching and walk the bike uphill for a minute. I get out another granola bar and begin to eat that as I get back on the bike. That's when I get my photo taken for the "race photo", with granola bar sticking out of my mouth and one of my hands behind my back. Oh well.

11:00 am - Finally I round the final switch back and sprint to the finish line. I still have some energy left since I wasn't pushing 100% since I didn't know when the end would appear.

It is very foggy and pouring rain at the top. I can squeeze about a 1/4 cup of water from each glove just by making a fist. My riding partner crosses the line and we congratulate each other for finishing. I see the two mountain bikers cross the line. After about 5 minutes I decide that I'd better get down the mountain. So I stuff my extra plastic bag down my shirt, put on my waterproof coat and earmuffs.

Immediately I am freezing. The road is steep, rutted, and covered with a sheet of water. There is a slight breeze and the temperature is pretty cold to start with. I have to ride the brakes to stay in control. I stop a couple times to rest my shoulders and arms. I contemplate hitchhiking to get a ride down. As I get down to the level spot by the ski-area I stop under an overhang and wring out my gloves once more. I see a couple strapping a single bike to a car and wonder if I should ask for a ride. I am already shivering slightly. Thoughts of hypothermia cross my mind. I know what signs to look for, I think.

I warm my hands by blowing on them a bit and then set out again. I vow that if I have problems with numbness or difficulty concentrating that I will stop and hitch a ride. I am quite aware that I have basically no survival gear with me. As I round another switch back I stop to let a car pass and I can smell smoke. The kind that you smell when you leave your emergency brake on the car while driving. I figure it must be my brake pads from riding the brakes. I hold my hands near my front wheel rim and I can feel the heat radiating off it. I gather up some courage and actually touch the rims with my gloves and am rewarded with a pleasant heating effect. I rotate the rim and heat my hands again. And so it goes for the next 5 miles. Stopping frequently and heating my freezing hands on the rims of my bicycle.

I am officially past miserable. I have never had such a crappy ride in the rain, which is in such contrast to going up the mountain. Occasionally I stop and ride back up the mountain to regain some feeling. I feel like I am zooming up the hill. I am really just putting off asking for a ride.

Fortunately, the road begins to flatten out and I am able to take corners without putting on my brakes. I feel a definite warming as I begin to lose altitude. The rain lessens up. Pretty soon I am confident that I won't have to hitch a ride to make it down alive.

I keep riding and it keeps getting warmer. I am finally able to feel my hands again. When I come to the first flat spot my legs are stiff and dead and I can barely pedal. After ten minutes of pedaling I am getting back into form. The grade decreases again and soon I have to pedal to keep above 20 mph. I keep checking my odometer to see how far I have to go. Only ten miles, I keep telling myself. There are a lot more rolling hills than I remember on the way up.

I pass a car on the side of the road and someone asks if I am going to make it okay. I say "sure", thinking that if I made it this far, no way am I going to ask for a ride now.

After an extraordinary amount of time I finally reach the first signs of civilization and I know that the end is very near. I arrive without fanfare. There are dozens of people milling about. Most look like they've recovered nicely. I feel like a zombie.

I find my truck and get off the bike. It is difficult to walk. I throw the bike in the bed and open up the truck. Thankfully I have lots of warm clothes. I begin strip my wet clothes except for my bike shorts, socks, and shoes. I have to fight with my jersey, it is clinging to my wet body like a starfish to a rock. I finally fight it off and put on some warm clothes. As I remove my feet from my shoes to take off the tights I realize that they are numb and very cold. I hope they'll warm up soon.

I walk back to the cafe whose parking lot hosted the tent registration. I wanted to buy a cup of coffee or cocoa but it is too crowded in there. I decide to head across the street. I end up getting a cup of cocoa to go. I get in my truck and crank up the heat. I had forgotten to pack dry shoes (I had socks) so I just keep my bike shoes on. Once I get into cell phone range I call my wife and let her know that I survived.

What did I learn? What advice would I have given myself?

First, I did pretty well getting up the mountain. I was happy with my gear choices. I would now include a couple plastic garbage bags and some latex gloves, just in case it was really blowing up top.

Getting down was a whole different story. Next year I am going to try to secure a ride down the mountain. Even in hot weather, the steep grades make descending difficult and dangerous. I'd rather ride down in a heated car. I thought my idea of warming my hands on the hot rims was ingenious and it saved me from having to swallow my pride and hitch a ride. Despite that, I wouldn't recommend riding down.

If I was determined to ride down, however, I would put a bunch of gear in the "gear truck" and have it transported to the top. First, a heavy-duty rain suit (pants and coat). Second, a fresh pair of gloves and a pair of latex exam gloves to use as a vapor barrier. I would also bring a couple chemical hand and foot warmers. I might also consider a dry pair of shoes and socks.

I would also bring at least two plastic garbage bags. That way I could cut up one and wear it as a poncho and stuff the other one down my shirt.

It could be a very pretty ride given the right weather conditions. So I would put sunscreen in my gear bag as well.

Will I do it again?

You bet. It was a great feeling to have climbed the mountain. But I'll be a little wiser next time. I hope you benefit from my experience.