At Compass Bicycles, we often get the question: “I am riding 23 mm tires right now, and I wonder whether a 25 mm-wide tire would make a noticeable difference.” The graph below, taken from the Spring 2013 issue of Bicycle Quarterly, shows the increase in cross-section, and thus air volume, as tires get wider.

Two millimeters may not seem like much, until you calculate the air volume of the tire. The air volume roughly is proportional to the cross-section of the tire. You can see above that a 25 mm tire has 18% more air than a 23 mm tire. Will you notice that difference? You probably will!

Going even wider, from a 25 mm tire to a 31 mm tire, you increase the air volume by more than half. That is not just noticeable, it’s huge. And even the difference between a 38 mm tire and a 41 mm tire still is 16%. No wonder the Grand Bois Hetres feel so much more comfortable than the Lierre and Pari-Moto tires, even though they use the same casing.

When you compare your average 23 mm-wide racing tire with the Grand Bois Hetre (above), you see why we love these tires so much. They roll as fast as a good racing tire. They weigh only a little more (the difference for two tires is less than half a water bottle). And they have more than three times as much air volume.

At which point does it no longer make sense to make the tires wider? I think there are two limiting factors:

1. Frame design: 42 mm is about the widest tire you can fit into a performance frame without going to wide mtb-style cranks.
2. Riding out of the saddle: For a rider my weight, a tire at less than 2.5 bar (37 psi) starts feeling squishy when riding out of the saddle. This means that beyond a 42 mm tire, there is a trade-off in feel. On a racing bike, I probably would prefer 38 mm-wide tires for their more positive feel, whereas on a randonneur bike (which doesn’t engage in sprints very often), the extra comfort of 42 mm tires are worth the small price in road feel during those city limit sprints.

For me, tires narrower than 30 mm are hardly worth considering. And even 30 mm tires feel compromised on many roads. 38 mm tires offer most of what I need, but I prefer 42 mm tires for the added comfort and safety they provide. If I were to go on a round-the-world tour, I’d probably use wider tires yet.

When I criticized the new “cycle path” in Seattle – the first of many that the city plans to install – I was surprised by the number of comments (more than 260), but even more about how much agreement there is between the proponents and opponents of separating cars and bikes. Since this is an important subject, I am summarizing the “take-home message” here:

Bad design: The commenters from all over the world almost unanimously agreed that the path I showed (above) is poorly designed. One Danish reader wondered whether it was an old path, since putting cyclists on the wrong side of traffic has been abandoned in Europe. (Unfortunately, it’s brand-new, and considered a prototype for future paths.)

Separate paths are less safe: Numerous people posted links to safety studies. There appears to be general agreement that separated cycle paths are less safe at intersections. Data from Berlin and Denmark show a marked increase of cyclist (and pedestrian) injuries at intersections after cycle paths were put in. (The results were adjusted for the increase in ridership.) The graphic above shows the relative risks for cyclists depending on where they are traveling. The most dangerous path is on the wrong side of the street. The safest is on the street.

(If you want to verify the above, check out this bef0re-and-after study from Copenhagen, as well as this study from Agerholm and this one from Copenhagen. The official Copenhagen study concluded: “The cycle tracks have resulted in increases of accidents and injuries of 9-10%.”)

Safety through Design: Several riders from Europe commented that some safety concerns have been resolved through smart design. Above is a brief Dutch video that explains how the separate path can be designed so that cyclists no longer appear from behind the turning car driver. This design does appear much better than the ones we are implementing in the United States right now. However, the Dutch design assumes that both car and cyclist arrive at the intersection when the light is red. Most drivers and cyclists try to time it so that they arrive when the light is green. In that situation, the cyclist again can find themselves behind the car, and close to invisible.

Another problem with separate paths is the inconvenience to the cyclist. Where a car driver can go straight, the cyclist has to make a right, a left, another left and finally a right turn to negotiate the intersection. And if the cyclist wants to turn left, she has to wait an extra light cycle, since she has to cross two traffic lights instead of one. For short bike trips, which predominate in the Netherlands, this is not a problem, but efficiency is key to making cycling a suitable alternative for the longer commutes that prevail in the U. S.

“Subjective” vs. actual safety: The advocates for separate bike facilities point out that most people feel safer on their bikes when they are separated from cars moving in the same direction. “Feeling unsafe” is the main impediment why many people don’t cycle, so getting more people on bikes requires making them feel safer while riding their bikes.

Data comparing different countries shows that increased numbers of people cycling generally leads to improved safety. It is important to make people feel safe while riding their bikes, so that more people ride, which in turn leads to actual increases in safety. In the long term, this may compensate for the decreases in safety due to the separate bike paths.

To me, the most important question is this: Are “perceived” and “actual” safety mutually exclusive, or can facilities be safe and feel safe at the same time?

Turn-around in Germany: Germany, the country that started the trend toward separating cyclists to clear the roads for cars, now is going the other way. “Fahrradstraßen” (bicycle boulevards) are streets that are turned over to cyclists as the main users. Cars are still allowed, but are considered secondary users. Munich, the largest city in southern Germany, is installing on-street bike lanes and signs that legitimize cycling on the street (above), even where there are separate paths. This approach has been successful: Cycling has increased by 70% in the last nine years.

In the next part of this series, I will examine whether Munich’s model may provide a better way forward for North American cities. It’s time to look at the data to see what works and what is safe.

The cycling cultures of Paris in the 1940s and early 1950s were varied and interesting. A few years ago, Bicycle Quarterly Vol. 5, No. 3 used this culture as a starting point to explore cycling for transportation. We started with the porteurs, who presented particularly fascinating mix of transportation and sport. The porteurs were newspaper couriers who delivered newspapers from the presses to the newsstands all over Paris.

What might have been a menial, minimum-wage job in other places evolved into a unique and even competitive facet of Paris’ cycling culture. For this issue of Bicycle Quarterly, I interviewed two porteurs de presse, Pierre Vitupier and Jacques Greiffenberg. Back then, newspapers published multiple editions every day, and delivery had to be swift. Couriers got paid per paper delivered, so the faster you rode, the more money you made. The best runs were those where the newsstands were just short distances apart. They were assigned by seniority… The two old porteurs explained how a good porteur could make more money than the directors of the newspaper where he worked.

Many porteurs were amateur or semi-professional racers who used their jobs for training, so it was natural to organize a race of the porteurs every year. The course started in the newspaper quarter of Paris, went around the Boulevards Extérieurs before climbing the hill of Montmartre. Riders had to carry 15 kg (33 lb) of newspapers. At the half-way point, they had to exchange their load for another pack of newspapers. Much of the course went over cobblestones, and not all were as smooth as the ones in the photo above.

Pierre Vitupier explained: “I figured I came from a strong amateur racing team, and thought I could win against the porteurs while pedaling with only one leg… I came 6th or 7th. [The following year] I trained for the Championnat des Porteurs like I would for a road racing championship, 8000 km training on the road… I won the race.”  The race was a big deal, with the main roads of Paris closed off for the event. The newspapers reported in great detail, as they would of a Tour de France stage.

Many of the best-paid porteurs had custom bikes built: one for the daily job with wide 650B tires and large fenders, and one for the annual race, much lighter and basically a racing bike with fenders and a big front rack. A replica of one of the racing bikes, built up from a genuine frame and rack (above), is featured in our book The Competition Bicycle.

In addition to the interview with the two porteurs, Joel Metz summarized the history of the Championnat des Porteurs in the same issue of Bicycle Quarterly.

Moving on to cycling as transportation, we tested different ways to carry a heavy load, and compared different geometries to determine which is best-suited to different load carrying configurations.

We do not say that you should ride your bike no-hands with 28 pounds of bricks in the front bags, but a good bike should make it possible to do so. That means that the bike will be stable in traffic, which increases your safety and enjoyment. We also found out why the old porteurs carried their heavy newspaper loads on a front, and not a rear, rack. It simply makes the bike more maneuverable, especially when riding out of the saddle in heavy traffic.

We did a comprehensive study of bicycle geometry under the title “How to Design a Well-Handling Bicycle.” We looked at historic examples of well-handling racing bikes, city bikes (above), randonneur bikes, touring bikes, even tandems and track bikes. We measured their geometries. We explained the factors that determine how a bike handles, and why some geometries work better than others.

Every issue of Bicycle Quarterly includes in-depth bike tests. For this issue, we tested three transportation bicycles:

A custom-built Ant “Basket Bike” designed to carry heavy loads.

Breezer’s Uptown 8, fully equipped for riding every day.

And the Jamis Commuter with a very affordable price tag.

To provide some perspective, we featured a classic Alex Singer city bike (above)>

Then there were more tests of tires, why tucking on downhills is faster than pedaling, as well as the columns My Favorite Bike, Builders Speak and much more.

Click here to order your copy of this exciting back issue (Vol. 5, No. 3) or to subscribe to Bicycle Quarterly.

In recent years, there has been a worrisome trend in the U.S. to advocate for separate bike paths (“cycle tracks”), or at least some visual barrier between bike and car lanes. An organization called “Bikes Belong” advocates for “protected bike lanes.” Recently in Seattle, guerilla cyclists installed pylons to separate a bike lane from the car lanes. Why do I call this worrisome?

At first sight, separate bike paths seem appealing. You are away from cars, riding by yourself. (The photo above shows that some riders still don’t feel safe on blacktop and prefer the sidewalk.)

Unfortunately, this idyllic view hides some very real dangers.

To understand bicycle safety, it is important to look at the actual, rather than perceived, dangers. The danger of being hit from behind or being “clipped” by a car passing too close is very small. It accounts for less than 5% of car-bike accidents.

Most accidents involving bikes and cars occur at intersections. Leaving aside accidents that are the cyclist’s fault (and thus more easily avoidable), there are three common scenarios:

1. A car pulls out of a side street and doesn’t notice the approaching cyclist who has the right of way.
2. A car is about to turn right and doesn’t realize that there is a cyclist traveling in the same direction in their blind spot on the right. The car cuts off the cyclist, often with fatal consequences.
3. A car turns left and doesn’t notice an oncoming cyclist. The car turns into the cyclist’s path.

In all cases, the driver did not notice the cyclist. This is the greatest danger for cyclists: being overlooked in traffic. Since drivers usually scan the road for cars, cyclists are safest if they ride where drivers look for cars. To be safe, cyclists must be an equal part of traffic.

Look at this view from a car windshield. You plan to turn right at this intersection. You see a car far ahead, but otherwise, everything appears clear. Will you realize there is a separate lane coming toward you, on the far right? Even though the cyclist is wearing a yellow vest, he is not in your immediate field of vision. A few moments earlier, the cyclist was completely hidden behind the parked cars. (At least the city doesn’t allow parking close to the intersection here.)

This photo also shows how misleading the term “protected bike lane” is. The protection ends right where you face the greatest danger: at the intersection.

Any barrier that separates the cyclist visually from other traffic effectively hides the cyclist. This is counterproductive to safety. Moving cyclists out of the roadway altogether, on separate bike paths, is even more dangerous, because drivers don’t look for (or cannot see) cyclists off to the side.

Imagine planning a right turn in the image above. You approach the intersection, the light turns green, you go. If you are vigilant, you can barely see the cyclist behind the parked car. Now imagine if the cyclist was still a bit further back. She’d be invisible. You’d turn right into her path. Let’s hope she has good brakes!

These are not hypothetical concerns. The police department in Berlin, Germany, found that on streets where “protected bike paths” were installed, the frequency of cycling accidents greatly increased. (The results are significant even when corrected for various factors, such as an increased number of cyclists traveling on these routes.)

In addition, this particular separate bike facility is counter to what we’ve taught cyclists for decades: it is dangerous to ride facing traffic. Doing so remains dangerous, even if the bike lane asks you to do so. And if you refuse to ride there, you incur the wrath of motorists. While riding around to take these photos, I had one elderly lady lean out of the window of her Buick and yell: “Now get in your bike lane!” 

A little further down the hill, the city hasn’t constructed the bike path yet (above). Riders ride on the street, where they are visible and expected. This is much safer than the separate bike path. If I were a driver planning a left turn into a driveway here, the cyclist would be right where I look for oncoming traffic. (Moving a little closer to the center of the street would make him even more visible.) I use this street frequently, and I am not looking forward to being pushed onto a segregated bike path on the wrong side of the street!

Separate paths are useful and safe where there are no intersections (above). Cross-country paths can provide a relaxing and safe alternative to busy highways. Trails like these also can be a good place to ride with children who are not yet in full control of their bicycle. (As long as there is little foot and bicycle traffic – busy trails with erratic users are the worst place for novice cyclists.)

On streets with frequent intersections, separate paths only make cycling less safe. I wish those who advocate for them would look at the data and stop asking for facilities that will cause more accidents.

An on-street bike lane (above, on uphill right side) is a much better solution to separating bicycles and cars. It keeps cyclists on the roadway as a legitimate part of traffic. To novice cyclists, it may be disconcerting to be passed by fast-moving cars, but it is safer to be an equal part of traffic than to pop out from unexpected places as you cross intersections on a separate path.

Separate cycle paths are appealing to many cycling advocates because they exist all over Europe. And in Europe, more people cycle, and cycling is safer. So it’s easy to think that the cycle paths are the reason for cycling’s success in Europe.

Having lived in Europe, I believe that cycling there is successful in spite of (and not because of) the bike paths. It may help to know that separate bike paths originally were not introduced to make cycling better, but to clear the road for cars (by the car-obsessed Nazis in Germany). For that reason, cyclists were required by law to use the bike path, whether it was well-designed or not. Other European countries quickly followed this “innovation.” It spread to yet more countries when Germany invaded much of Europe during World War II.

As early as 1936, the French Cyclotouring Federation lobbied for bike lanes painted on the road, instead of mandatory, but dangerous, bike paths. In Europe, that battle still is going on more than 75 years later, because the Nazi-era laws remain on the books to this day, even in cycling-friendly places like Amsterdam and Copenhagen. (To be clear, I am not implying that those advocating for separate paths should be in any form compared to Nazis. I only included this for a historic perspective on why European cyclists have to cycle on segregated facilities.)

As North American cyclists, we are lucky that we retain the right to use the road. Let’s not give it up!

Further reading: The most common bicycle accidents.

Last weekend we rode our 2013 Flèche Northwest. The Flèche is a wonderful event that combines much of what I love about randonneuring. You select your own route, you ride as a team, and you finish together.

Traditionally, the Flèche has had the goal to ride the maximum distance possible, but we’ve modified that goal to “the maximum distance possible on an interesting, challenging course.” So we mapped a course around the Olympic Peninsula that covers backroads almost exclusively, and which incidentally included a lot of climbing.

We met at 4 p.m. in downtown Seattle for a pre-ride meal. From left to right: Steve F., Hahn, Steve T., Ryan.

Our bikes have been honed through many years of long-distance riding. Three sported 650B wheels, and all had fenders and handlebar bags. Four were steel, one titanium. Having similar equipment is useful when riding in a group.

After taking the ferry to Bainbridge Island, we started our ride. We deliberately took it easy to avoid getting tired during these early kilometers, when we were excited to be on the road. Our first control was Port Gamble with its quaint store and museum.

From there, it was backroads for the next 90 km. Since the main road is shorter (and less hilly), we needed a few controls at intersections to show that we took the longer route and did the distance. Most of all, we enjoyed the ride toward the setting sun (photo at the top).

When we reached Port Angeles at 10:30, it was pitch dark . This brightly lit convenience store would be the last resupply until breakfast. It was the last outpost of a questionable civilization as we headed northwest, first toward the Strait of Juan de Fuca, then southwest to the Pacific coast. We took a slightly longer break here: 12 minutes exactly.

From then on, it was just us in the moonless night. Our Edelux headlights projected a narrow beam into the pitch-dark night. Above us were the stars – so many more than we ever see in the city.

There was little traffic – about a car every 30 minutes. Almost all of them gave us an encouraging little beep with their horns as they passed. It was nice to feel welcome out here, so far from home. Then traffic subsided, and for five hours, we did not see a single car. Our moderate pace during the early hours paid off, and nobody felt sleepy or had trouble keeping up.

After a quick stop in Forks – the only place with a 24-hour convenience store on this 200 km stretch – we saw the silver sliver of the moon rise above the Olympic rainforest. It was a magic sight toward the end of the long, dark night.

We reached the Pacific Ocean at dawn. We pulled into a parking lot on the cliff, climbed on a picnic table and looked over the waves. It’s always an incredible feeling to have ridden to the far end of the continent in just a single night.

At 7:28, we reached Lake Quinault and its wonderful National Park lodge. The restaurant opened at 7:30, so we were the first guests. Perfect timing! Forty-five minutes and a sumptuous breakfast later, we started the new day refreshed and in good spirits.

We took another lovely backroad into Hoquiam, and for the next hour, we speculated whether we’d get the forecast tailwind on our ride along Willapa Bay.

Willapa Bay was gorgeous as always, but the forecast turned out to be 180° incorrect. We battled stiff headwinds with nowhere to hide. Our pacelining skills came in handy here.

After a brief stop in Raymond, we headed into the Willapa Hills. The course included two gravel sections. Two years ago, we had been held up by a car rally that used these roads for a “special stage”. This year, we had made sure the rally was not on the same weekend, and all was calm.

New gravel the size of railroad ballast had been spread in places. Where the cars had compacted two tracks, it was fine, but in other places, we had to ride through the deep gravel. We found that even a 42 mm tire can pinch-flat.

Twenty-two hours into the ride, we stopped and signed each others’ route sheets at the mandatory “22-hour control”. We had ridden 512 km so far, and now just had to ride 25 km in the next two hours. However, on this gravel pass, our progress was slow. After 45 minutes, we had gone just 8 km. If we continued at this pace, we might not make it!

This is where the team came together. Helping hands were extended to those who needed them at various times.

Finally, 24 hours elapsed in the middle of the last gravel descent. We checked the distance – 540.2 km. We had made it! In fact, we just had bettered the previous longest ride in the Flèche Northwest by about 6 km. Time for smiles…

… and celebration. Another shared adventure has strengthened the bonds of our friendship.

In Olympia the next morning, all teams congregated and told their stories. We heard about beautiful roads, starry nights and wonderful teamwork. That is what the Flèche is all about. A special thanks to Josh Morse for organizing such a wonderful event. Maybe you’ll join us next year?

• More information on the Flèche is on the Randonneurs USA web site.

Many cyclists are tempted by the performance and comfort of supple tires, but they are afraid that they might get too many flats without puncture-resistant belts and reinforced sidewalls. Tire Wipers improve the flat resistance of your tires without detracting from their comfort and performance.

Few foreign objects are so large and so sharp that they puncture the tire upon first impact. Most require several revolutions of the wheel to work their way through the tire. When you roll over debris, you often hear the “pock, pock, pock” as the debris gets pushed into the tire with each wheel revolution, followed by a “pshhhh” as the tube deflates.

If you could get rid of the debris after it is picked up, but before it gets hammered into the tire, you could prevent a good number of flats. Enter Tire Wipers – small wires that lightly rub your tires and remove debris before it gets lodged in the tire.

Do they work? Flat tires are so random that this is hard to quantify, but the general consensus is that they do prevent many, if not all, punctures.

Tire Wipers have been hard to find in recent years, but Scott Gabriel is making them again. Compass Bicycles carries them, in two models. One attaches to the brakes of bikes without fenders, the other is installed at the exit (front edge) of your fenders (above). Click here for more information.

Many cyclists wonder whether it is safer to ride to the very right of the road – out of the way of cars – or whether they should “take the lane” and ride in the middle of the lane as if they were a car.

The answer is: “It depends on your speed.” If you are going roughly as fast as the cars surrounding you, you should “take the lane.” (If there is no traffic at all, then you definitely should “take the lane”.)

Being in the middle of the street makes you more visible, especially for cars coming out of side streets. Cars also won’t pass you and then cut you off as they turn right. Since your speed is the same as that of the cars around you, you aren’t holding up traffic.

In the photo above, I am riding down a steep hill, and I am taking the lane. The city has painted “sharrows” on the road to encourage me to do so. The sharrows also legitimize my being in the lane, which is important as it affects how drivers react. Rather than being perceived as an “uppity cyclist,” I am simply following the rules.

If you are going much slower than other traffic, it is best to stay out of the way as much as safely possible. For the uphill side of this steep street, the city installed a bike lane. Cyclists travel slowly uphill and can stop quickly if a car cuts in front of them, or if traffic exiting a side street does not see them. Taking the lane in this situation would greatly inconvenience faster traffic and provide few advantages.

Kudos to the City of Seattle for this inspired piece of traffic design, even if it came about because there isn’t enough room for two bike lanes on this street.

The same reasoning applies to route selection. If you are riding slowly, you most likely will be safer and more comfortable on small neighborhood streets (above). Here, you can “take the lane” to be more visible, and you still can stop if this becomes necessary.

However, if you ride fast, you are probably safer on a main street that has the right-of-way at most intersections. Take the lane, and your trip will not just be more efficient, but also safer.

For me, this means that in hilly Seattle, I use different streets for the same routes, depending on my direction of travel:

• For uphills, I prefer the quiet neighborhood streets.
• When going downhill, I stay on the bigger “arterials” as much as possible.

How do you select the safest routes in your city?

In the René Herse book, there is a chapter on the 1945 Omnium des Cyclotouristes, which included a climb up the steep cobblestone hill at Neauphle-le-Château near Paris. One of the riders, Paulette Porthault, remembered: “Oh it was awful, all those rough cobblestones which dated from the time of Louis XIV.”

Recently, Ivan Souverain visited the hill on his 1938 “Sans Peur” (Without Fear) 650B camping bicycle. He reports that it’s still as steep and difficult as it was in 1945.

In 1945, René André and Joël Simon were riding toward another victory for the René Herse team (top). The cobbles, the houses and the ancient wall all are still there 68 years later (above).

In 1945, many of the riders took to the side of the road, where the gravel and grass were smoother than the cobbles themselves. Above is the tandem of the Le Chevalliers, followed by Raymond Valance and his wife.

The sidepath now has been paved and is used for parking.

Ivan made it to the top, but his comment was: “The cobblestone hill is just not made for average rider like me.”

At least there is a Café nearby to celebrate his success. I have to ask Mme. Porthault whether they went that same cafe after the ride in 1945!

May is “Bike to Work” month. With winter weather behind for most of us, it’s a great time to use your bicycle more often for transportation, and not just for recreation. Cycling for transportation for most of us means that we often ride in the city. Safety is a major concern, so this month we are preparing a series of posts about cycling safety.

To start with, let’s look at one of the greatest dangers to cyclists: poor riding skills. More than half of all cycling accidents and 16% of cycling fatalities do not involve collisions with other vehicles. So how can you improve your riding skills and avoid crashing?

The biggest step is learning to control your bicycle with confidence. It may appear counterintuitive, but riding timidly makes you less safe. Not only is your bike more stable and maneuverable at higher speeds, but if you know its limits, you are better able to respond to unforeseen hazards. You can stop faster or change direction quicker without risking a crash.

Here are four things you can practice to improve your confidence in handling your bike. Do this only while riding on a traffic-free stretch of road:

1. Ride in a perfectly straight line.

• Why? Not wobbling will make you safer and more predictable in traffic.
• Where to practice: Ride on the white “fog line” at the edge of the road.
• How to do it: Relax your grip on the handlebars. Your bike will go straight, if you let it find its own way. As you sense your bike’s movements, decrease your inputs until you are riding in a very straight line.

2. Place your bike on the road with accuracy.

• Why? If you can place your wheels exactly where you want, it’s easy to avoid hazards like potholes and debris.
  
• Where to practice: To practice, go between two lane marker dots without touching them with either wheel.
• How to do it:  Your bike goes where you look: if you look at a lane marker dot (or pothole), then you’ll hit it. Focus instead on the gap between two lane-marker dots. Here, too, relax your grip on the handlebars. You only can go where you want if you don’t wobble.

3. Brake hard.

• Why? You will be amazed how quickly you can stop.
• Where to practice: Braking is best practiced on a downhill. Let the bike roll, then brake hard. Repeat and brake even harder.
• How to do it: Use only your front brake. Shift your weight back and lock your elbows to brace yourself against “going over the bars”. (This is the only time you want to grip your handlebars with force.) The photo at the top of the blog shows the correct technique.

4. Jump your bike.

• Why? Being able to jump over cracks, steps in the road or small potholes greatly increases your safety in traffic. Jumping also is helpful when faced with railroad tracks that run at an oblique angle to your direction of travel.
• Where to practice: First work on just getting the wheels off the ground a little. Then pick a line in the road and jump over it.
• How to do it: For those of us who did not grow up with BMX, this will work best with clipless pedals or toeclips. Make sure your feet are secure. Bend your knees and elbows, then launch your body upward. Your bike will follow.

Once you master these four skills, you’ll be a much more confident and safe rider. What exercises do you use to improve your confidence and ability to control your bike?

Ryan’s e-mail started like this: “I haven’t cycled on the San Juan lslands for a long time. We could leave in the afternoon and catch the 10:30 PM ferry to Orcas. We would be on top of Mt Constitution by 2 AM…”

I didn’t need to read any further. Instead, I picked up the phone: “Count me in!”

Climbing Mount Constitution at night sounded romantic. Add ferry rides, riding on empty backroads and eating good food… It had all the ingredients for a perfect day-and-a-half outing. That is, despite the weather forecast predicted a front coming in.

We met at 3:30 p.m. and left Seattle on familiar roads and trails (above). We crossed the Skagit River Delta through powerful head- and crosswinds. We explored a new bike route into Anacortes in the dark, which took us on an amazing pier across the bay. After 160 km (100 miles) on the road with a single, brief stop, we had an excellent dinner at the deli of a grocery store. Once again, we marveled at how efficiently good randonneur bikes can cover large distances.

When we reached the ferry terminal shortly after 10 p.m., there was a ferry at the dock, but we were the only people there. A sign on the toll both read: “Will be back at 4.” Huh? We double-checked the schedule and discovered the fine print: The 10:30 ferry only runs on Fridays.

Fortunately, the waiting area was open. The janitor showed up for work just as we started to get comfortable, and soon turned off the lights without asking us to leave. So we slept there. It was drizzling outside, so this was probably more comfortable than bivying in the forest on Mount Constitution.

We took the first morning ferry at 5:30. I had only cycled on Orcas Island during summer weekends, when the roads and ferries were crowded with tourists.

Today, we had the roads mostly to ourselves. The few local drivers were friendly and returned our waves. After the long winter, it’s amazing how green spring is. The early foliage has a more yellowish green hue, and the mist made it seem even more vibrant. The evergreen trees’ tips were also lighter, where this year’s growth is coming out.

After the dips and rises of island’s interior, the road wound its way along this magic bay, into a surreal landscape shrouded in fog.

We reached the turnoff to Mount Constitution almost before we knew it. From here, the road winds its way up the mountain to gain a total of 730 m (2400 feet) in elevation.

We had the road to ourselves, except for a single car that passed us on the uphill. We wondered what happened to it, since there is no turn-off, and it wasn’t at the top.

We pushed the pace, since this was our first mountain pass for the year – important training for the rides we have planned for the upcoming season.

The last bit was a steep gravel footpath. Nobody was around, and we rode up that as well.

At the top is an observation tower, built during the 1930 depression by the Civilian Conservation Corps, which put unemployed people to work. Usually, the tower offers grand views of the surrounding islands, the Cascade and Olympic Mountains, and even Vancouver in British Columbia. Today, all we could see were fog and clouds. Deserted and cut off from the world, it was perhaps even more special.

The downhill was exciting, and then we took a different route that led us through Eastsound, Orcas’ largest town. With some time until the next ferry, we decided to enjoy a good meal.

Orcas has enough locals to support their infrastructure without tourists, so we had no trouble finding a bustling café. We ate a multi-course meal that really made Eastsound a destination. Then we caught the ferry back to Anacortes.

On the ferry, Ryan learned that his presence was required at home, so we split up. While he headed to Mount Vernon, I continued with our original plan of riding across Whidbey Island.

I explored a new backroad on the way to Deception Pass (above), then headed along the coast of Whidbey Island, avoiding the busy highway that runs through the center of the island. The coastal roads are very hilly as they climb and descend one bluff after another. As a result, there wasn’t time for photos, but my pace into the headwind and rain had to increase the further I went.

I caught the ferry to Port Townsend with minutes to spare, and enjoyed a brief rest while the boat crossed the choppy waters. I love having all my stuff in a handlebar bag. While other cyclists fuss with their luggage, I just pull the bag out of the decaleur and head to the heated seating area of the ferry. (Except on this day, I was the only cyclist on the boat.)

Soon the charming town of Port Townsend came into view, reminding me of many wonderful vacations spent here.

This afternoon, my visit was limited to an early dinner at the excellent food co-op, before I took to the road again. Instead of taking the busy and relatively flat roads back toward Bainbridge Island, I re-acquainted myself with the wonderful roads that traverse the peninsula.

One of my favorites is Old Eaglemount Road (above).

We will head the other way on these roads during our Flèche 24-hour ride soon, so I got a preview in reverse.

I reached the 9:45 p.m. ferry at Bainbridge Island with barely enough time to buy a sandwich at the grocery store. Then, on the way home from the ferry in Seattle, it had stopped raining, and I had the first tailwind of the entire trip! By 11 p.m., I was in bed, after an exhilarating 30-hour vacation.