The North 40 (Edmonds - Everett on the Interurban)

Today Nick took advantage of his company's support for "work-life balance" and took the day off to just hang out. After some deliberation as to how he wanted to spend his day off, he opted to go for a long-ish bike ride. Worked for me! So, we put our kiddo in full-day summer camp and planned a route.

Coming up with a good route when we had hours of uninterrupted and child-free biking time was a bit daunting. We knew we would do better with a destination (our spontaneous ride around Edmonds a few days before had become a frustrating exercise in hill repeats--fine for my training but not exactly the bonding ride Nick, who loathes hills even more than I, was looking for). Nick set the awesome goal of riding directly from our house, not driving to a trailhead (don't laugh, serious cyclists - this is new to us). But I'm skiddish in high-traffic or low-shoulder areas, so that somewhat limited our route-options. In the end, we decided that we had both been curious about the Interurban Trail for some time, and it seemed like a reasonable ride from our house to the trail, so Nick printed out some maps and we got ready.

It turns out that not only is the ride from our house to the Interurban ridiculously quick, it's also very low on the intimidation factor. A steep but short hill got us to a decent bike lane that runs generally uphill (every road around our house runs generally uphill, since we live not too far above sea level). We followed the bike lane for awhile, turned along a few low-traffic side streets, dismounted to cross hywy 99 and then --voila!--we were at the entrance to the Interurban.

The first chunk was a bit stop-and-go, with lots of "Dismount and Walk Bikes" signs that we basically obeyed, and before we knew it, we had popped out in Lynnwood, near the 44th Street entrance to I-5. At this point the trail just went to hell. Or more accurately, disappeared into the type of on-road, heavy-traffic, no-shoulder riding I set out to avoid. I guess if I were a stronger rider and more comfortable with traffic, we could have just ridden along on street for a block of white knuckled terror, but instead we dismounted and walked along the sidewalk. I hope that there is a rerouting planned for this area of the trail. It's the only part along the whole route from Edmonds to Everett that really sucked.

Once we got back on the trail things really picked up, and we entered a fast downhill stretch that took us behind the Alderwood Mall and right to the doorstep of Gregg's Alderwood. I have never really appreciated how brilliantly positioned Gregg's is until now. It was so easy to run in, grab a Clif Bar, some Shot Blocks and a new pair of gloves (my 2 week old cut-off gloves had stretched out, so Nick got them, and I bought a pair in a smaller size) and get back on the trail. Genius!

From Alderwood to the Everett mall was mostly trail; with some on-road bike paths through Mill Creek. Everything was well signed, though Nick and I did get lost at one point when we simply refused to believe that the reconnecting trail shared an entrance with the freeway. We should have believed: along 128th the trail turns west (along the sidewalk) until you are inches from riding (or walking) straight into a freeway on-ramp. It was a bit disconcerting, but once we were back on the trail it was actually quite nice, running along I-5 for awhile before looping up and over the freeway, then pushing flat and uninterrupted for quite awhile.

During one of these long, gentle downhill straights I decided to get down into my tri bars (clip on do-hickies) and practice tri handling. Now, I've had these tri bars for about 3 weeks, and have spent about 9 minutes using them, so I have no illusions as to my handling ability while tucked down. Still, one has to start sometime, and a wide open straight-away seemed like a good place. So I tucked down and pretty quickly got up to about 28 mph (slight downhill, remember). At this speed, my eyes started to get really really dry and I realized my cycling glasses were handing from the collar of my jersey, where they had been since a water stop some miles back. What can I say, I was going really fast (for me) and I had this vision of road debris blinding me forever, so I panicked a bit and came up too quickly, reaching for my glasses at the same time. Big mistake. What happened next was like a terrifying, slo-mo impression of Weebles: I weebled, I wobbled, but I did not fall down. It was a big wobble, taking me perilously close to the drainage ditch on one side of the trail and back to the center line. I was unstable for long enough to think, "Well, this is it. I'm going to crash. I'm definitely going down, and I still don't have my glasses on." Somehow, miraculously, I did not crash. Thinking of it later, the only thing that kept me upright was my speed. I am positive that, had I been going a bit slower, I would have been on the pavement. The strange property of a bicycle to be more stable at higher speeds saved me, more than any jedi-like reflexes I possess.

Nonetheless, it shook me up (and Nick behind me, who's irritation with my zippity-go-wheee speed bender became terror that he would be scraping me off the trail with a spoon) and I continued on for the next portion of the trail in a fully upright and decidedly un-aero position.

The trail past the Everett mall moved more onto on-road bike paths, and at one point we missed a turn and had to cut back and around to get back on the trail. The trail was also interrupted with surprising frequency by these horrid gates that look like giant robot arms. The gates don't allow you to simply ride through some bollards. Instead you have to zig-zag through an opening that's almost big enough for a bike to chicane comfortably through. Almost. I got through the giant robot arms unscathed, but definitely had to put my foot down a few times to avoid ramming the far gate arm. Maybe there's a technique I don't know, because at one point a more advanced looking cyclist passed me and went through the gates just ahead of me. It appeared that he just breezed through the gates, totally clipped in and nonplussed by the whole giant-steel-bar in front of me thing.

We got the the trail end and it seemed to just....well....end. Perhaps there is more trail to explore further on, after some Everett road-riding. We didn't push on to find out, since it was about turn-around time anyway and we couldn't be late to pick up our kiddo.

The way back was into the wind and more uphill than down, and Nick was tired. He was hurting pretty bad through some of the more uphill stretches, but he powered through like a trouper. We rode pretty slow on the way back, but it was nice to be able to just chat and ride together.

All in all, I liked the trail a lot: it was mostly flat with rolling hills and a few short (and not too insane) climbs. Signage was good, but not perfect, and the road quality was very good-wide and mostly smooth, though frequently interrupted at beginning and end. The trail was as scenic as you might expect for a trail that basically follows I-5. A feeling of supreme utility made up for the lack of overwhelming natural beauty. It had a functionality I really liked, like this was the path you use to get places you actually need to go, and in that way it put ideas into our head about becoming less reliant on the car and adjusting commute patterns to incorporate some biking. Which is not to say that the trail was ugly: parts of it were quite lovely, with wooded areas and greenbelts alongside. I saw a one hawk swooping down from the trees South of Everett, and I couldn't count the dragonflies I saw zipping along.

Here's a map to the route we did. For more info on the Interurban in Snohomish County, check out this page. Total distance was just about 40 miles, at a very easy pace (about 11 miles/hr on average-on bike pace probably slightly higher because we did stop several times and walked our rides on multiple occations). Feel very good post ride.