We’ve just exchanged bikes again at the top of a small climb in the middle of the descent down the back side of Mt. Hood. David is shedding his arm and leg warmers while we hang the T-Rex back on the bike rack and hand over the Litespeed. Bert runs to refill David’s water bottle and Justin hums merrily as he picks up the recently cast-off lycra limb warmers. As usual, I am dutifully snapping photos, although I’m feeling that my role is slightly more auxiliary in terms of its relative criticality. Still, I’m here to support my father in his efforts in any way I can, and after the innumerable hours of his personal time he donated to me in my sporting careers while growing up, joining his crew for the race is the least I can do, and I’m happy to be here.

Suddenly I realize the familiar tune Justin has been humming is a sea shanty, one of those commonly used in children’s cartoons and fictional pirate lore. I chuckle; Justin’s good humor is infectious and it’s hard not to be excited and jovial with him around. One of the vans parked behind behind us begins blaring Gloria Estefan from its hood-mounted speakers to provide encouragement for the rider its supporting; it’s hard not to laugh and smile.

After David finishes his pit stop and exchange, he hurries up the road to make up for lost/ground and time. We follow suit, quickly overtaking him and speeding up to the next turnout point. Most of our stops are purely for regular moral support and encouragement, and to determine whether we need to prepare anything for the next stopping point. The answer is usually “nope!” accompanied by a large grin.

Shortly after pulling out, our handheld two-way-radio starts spewing static and occasional feedback for no apparent reason. At first we think perhaps David’s radio button is being held down accidentally, but we determine quickly this is not the case. About four or five minutes later it stops, but over the course of the next half hour it periodically repeats the cycle. We’ve no idea if it’s being caused by interference or some strange glitch, but currently our best guess is that aliens are responsible; after all, we are supposedly traveling through an area rumored to have sightings of bizarre lights in the nighttime sky.

Whatever the cause, it doesn’t keep us from actually communicating, so it’s not so much a problem as it is an anomaly…or just a curiosity. For now though, we remain focused on the route and have our eyes set on the first Time Station about 20 miles from here. Onward!