Seattle to Portland 2026: I did it

The play-by-play of the longest ride I’ve ever done. Seattle to Portland in one day: 206 miles.

3:45 AM. My alarm goes off. Saturday morning. I don’t feel like I’ve slept at all. Today’s the big day.

I take my water bottles out of the fridge, grab my Wahoo and derailleur battery off the charger, and put them on my bike. I pour myself a cup of cold brew and eat some overnight oats and a banana. I’m not that hungry, but I know it’ll be my only proper meal until dinner. I’m nervous and can’t eat that much, so I go to the bedroom and put my bike clothes on. Bathroom. Finish coffee. Bathroom again. Inflate tires. It’s 4:28 and I need to leave no later than 4:30.

Shoes on. Helmet. Wahoo on. Route loaded. Hydration pack. Keys. Let’s go.

4:31. It’s pitch black outside, so I’m glad I decided to bring my lights after all. I say goodbye to Kaelan–his group is meeting in a different spot. Down the road I zoom. No cars, but a few bikes already. It’s the emptiest I ever see the Burke. It’s 4:36 and my group leaves at 4:45 exactly, so I’d better not be late. I roll up at 4:40 and most of the group is already there. There is one more person coming. We chit-chat about how early it is. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten up this early for a bike ride before,” I joke. 

4:45. The last member of our group has not appeared, so Katie says we’re going. She doesn’t wait around. My Wahoo is already down to 88% battery after turning it on 30 minutes ago. I didn’t bring a portable charger. I hope this doesn’t die on me. I’m using my old Wahoo and have never had problems with the battery before, so I’m confused what’s going on, but I don’t really have time to troubleshoot. I turn my Garmin watch on, just in case I need a back-up recording. No way am I not having my longest ride ever recorded. Can you imagine? 

5:00. We’re about to descend to Denny Blaine and a huge group of cyclists start passing us in the dark. Oh, it’s Kaelan’s group. I try to keep my eyes on the bumpy, twisty road, but I keep looking for Kaelan. Finally, he passes me, and we wave. That’s the last I’ll see him until the end of the ride. He’s too fast! A couple people lose their bottles on the descent. It’s so bumpy. A little scary to be riding it in the dark, surrounded by 20-30 other people going faster than me, but at least I know it well.

Our group is going fast. Almost too fast. I knew 18 mph average would be fast, but we’re doing 22 or so along Lake WA blvd. We’re not drafting that well. I keep getting too close, then too far. Yo-yo-ing. I’m immediately glad I have my Camelbak because it’s hard to take my hands off the bars to take a sip. I want to take some photos and videos, but I’m terrified of being dropped and it feels like it takes all my concentration to stay on the wheel. Take a sip. Don’t get dropped. 

6:49. We’ve already gone 37.5 miles and our average speed is up to 18. I can’t believe it’s already been two hours. I turn my Wahoo backlight off and suddenly the battery is okay.

7:55. 55 miles in and we make it to the first stop. We have 10 minutes. I’ve got to rush. They’ve got loud dance music playing and it feels like it should be a lot later, not 8 a.m. I fill up my bottle, grab a banana, and run to the bathroom. I have a few seconds to slather some sunscreen on my face before it’s already time to leave again.

We roll out, and I can’t believe we’re already a quarter of the way through. I’ve told myself this is just four, 50 mile rides. I can do that, right?

9:00. Our pace is fast. We have a headwind. I’m trying to stay in the draft, but I’m still working a lot. I know I’ll make it to 100 miles, but I’m not sure I can hang with the group past that. I’m having to do a lot of surging to keep up. I keep losing a wheel and having to fight to get back on, wasting energy. A few times Katie has noticed and popped ahead of me, so I can grab onto her wheel and work our way back to the group. I’m not sure if I’m bad at drafting, or if our group is just bad at biking at a consistent pace. I think it’s the latter. And, we’re passing so many people, sometimes other groups try to hop in, but can’t stay on. Then I have to sprint past them and catch up to the group. It takes a lot of energy to focus on drafting well. My heart rate is higher than I anticipated–I’m working more than I expected, even with the draft. Just make it to the halfway point. 

10:29. 101 miles. It’s only 10:30 am. Our average speed is up to 18.4. I’m dying. We bike through the halfway point, and I feel a sense of relief, but we have 8 more miles until our actual lunch stop. I tell myself to just make it there and then I can decide whether or not I stay with the group.

11:11. Lunchtime! This time we’re stopping for 30 minutes. I grab some bananas and drink some pickle juice, refill my water bottles and Camelbak, and lie down in the grass. I’m cooked. I take my phone out of airplane mode and text a few people. I’m dying. I don’t think I can do this. I eat half of my peanut butter and honey sandwich with my eyes closed laying down. How am I going to finish this? I check my phone. A few friends have been dot watching me. 

“HALFWAYYY You’re a rockstar!!!!” 

“YOU GOT THIS YOU’RE MY HERO” 

Katie is also suffering a little bit, she says. She agrees it’s been a lot of surging. “Maybe we can take it a little easier until the next stop,” she suggests to the group. I eagerly nod my head. Please. Yes. The others agree and I breathe a sigh of relief. If we take it a little easier, maybe I’ll last until the next stop. We’re over halfway, and the next stop is at mile 145. I tell myself that’s about 30 miles. Easy. I can make it 30 miles, right? 

11:45. We’re off again, but already doing a better job staying together as a group. I’m feeling a little better. The next 30 miles fly by pretty quickly. We’re on the rollers–easy up, down hills. I remember this from when I did STP before. I can’t believe we’re already here. We get to the next “big” hill. It’s so much smaller than I remember. I try to keep pace with Katie on the hills. I’m the slowest in our group, but manage to keep up with her for the most part.

14:00. We make it to the next rest stop at mile 147. This time we’re a little more relaxed. We stop for 15-20 minutes. I eat another banana and drink pickle juice and refill my water. I think I’ll finish the ride, but I’m still not sure I’ll finish with the group. The next stop is only 30 miles away at 177 miles. I’m glad they’re closer together. It feels a little more manageable. The headwind’s been tough, and I haven’t even been in the front that much. 

14:33. We’re on the Lewis and Clarke bridge crossing into Oregon. When I did it three years ago, they had a police escort and closed a lane of traffic for all the cyclists. I guess for the one-day riders, there’s not enough of us to do that, so we’re riding in the shoulder across the highway bridge. There’s a lot of glass and debris. It’s loud as the cars and trucks whiz past. We ride single file. Katie says we’ll regroup after the bridge, as we all get somewhat spaced out and broken up on the bridge. We make it down the ramp to the other side, and Katie, Susan, and I are together. The two guys behind me are nowhere to be seen, and the two guys in the front of our group are long gone (they’re too fast). We plod on and a faster group starts passing us. Katie hops on their wheel and starts leaving us in the dust. I hear Kate’s voice from Titanic, “Come back, come back!” as she gets farther and farther away.

It’s just Susan and I along Highway 30 into the headwind. I’m glad there’s a lot of shade because it’s starting to get hot. I offer to pull for a bit and we swap. I can tell both of us are tired. I can’t really go faster than 15 mph into the headwind and start to despair that it’s just going to be the two of us the rest of the way to Portland. We pass a sign that says “Portland: 46 miles.” So close. 

Finally at around mile 172, we meet up with two guys from our group and I breathe a sigh of relief. Susan and I are exhausted. I’m grateful to have two more people to ride with and shelter us from the wind. Five miles to go until the rest stop. We pass a couple gas stations and I almost pull off to buy a coca-cola, but I don’t want to lose my group.

16:00. We make it to the rest stop at mile 177. I breathe a sigh of relief. We’re in the home stretch. I tell someone that I wish I could have a coke and they tell me, “Oh they’re selling it over there!” It’s my lucky day. I buy a coca-cola and drink the whole thing. It’s never tasted so good. I put more sunscreen on and add more electrolytes to my water. I don’t feel hungry at all, but I know we still have two hours of riding, so I’d better not bonk. Only 30 more miles. I can do this!

17:30. The next hour and a half is a bit of a blur, cruising along Highway 30. At this point I just want to be done. Mileage-wise, 20 miles sounds so easy. But depending how fast we ride, that could be one hour or an hour and a half. It sounds a little more daunting when I think about it in hours. The morning feels like an entire week ago. We’re making good time along the road, and I’m drafting pretty well. 

17:52. My bike computer hits 204.8 miles as we cross the final bridge into Portland. I’ve been biking 11 hours and 33 minutes. My average speed is 17.7. The last few miles feel painful. Are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet???

18:00. I hear an announcer in the distance and suddenly see the finish line. I can’t believe it. We’re here. People are cheering, and I slow down and look for Kaelan, trying to find him in the line of people along the finish.

I felt like crying all day–out of amazement that I was doing this–but can’t actually cry at the finish line. I hear some people shout my name, and there we are. We’ve done it! I look at my bike computer. 206 miles. I can’t believe it. I made it.