Rapha FAR 2025.1
Every time I prep for a significant Rapha ride, I know two things to be true: the route will be one of the most beautiful I’ve seen, and it will also be one of the hardest I’ve attempted. This balance of beauty and pain pushes me to go beyond my usual limits, into the FAR. Rapha Seattle’s first FAR ride of 2025 was no exception. 87 miles with 4,900 feet of elevation doesn’t sound too bad, but nearly all of that elevation came within the first 45 miles, with much of it above 10-11%. (If those numbers don’t mean much to you, let’s just say: steep.)
As with each of my previous Rapha excursions (2009 Oregon Manifest, 2017 Prestige, 2017 Transfer Ride, 2024 FAR), I knew the day ahead would be pretty tough for me. I however, decided to try and stick with the advanced “fast” group and see how long I could hang on. I’m not much of a training/prep person—the furthest I’d ridden in 2025 so far was just 45 miles—but I figured I could always drop back to the no-drop group if needed. So, why not try? Well, I quickly learned that the advertised 18-20mph pace for this group was going to be more like 24-25mph on the flats. It was certainly doable in a pace line, but I needed to conserve my legs for the 1,200-foot mountain climb ahead, with pitches over 20%. So, I let the group roll ahead on each shorter steep climbs, trying to reel them back in when I could. My bike handling skills were less beneficial to me this year compared to last years semi-gravel FAR ride, where power was less of a need than finesse.
Our first organized stop came at mile 30, at the Deception Pass bridge. Having never visited this part of Washington, I was blown away by the views. It’s an unreal experience standing up this high with water and peaks all around. I certainly plan to come back here again in the future to revel in the glorious nature this area has to offer. Knowing we had many miles still to come, we did not sit here for long. The group refueled quickly, did a quick over and back across the bridge, and headed into what I knew would be the biggest challenge of the ride: Mount Erie.
We had 5 miles of rolling incline from Deception Pass to the base of Mount Erie, a Category 2 climb that begins as you pass by Lake Erie. At this point, I lost touch with the group, but I was joined by another rider who was also struggling with the pace up the climbs. We rode the 3 miles of the mountain climb together, encouraging each other through every hairpin turn followed by another relentless gradient. Eventually, I reached the point of zig-zagging, giving everything I had just to avoid stopping. I finally crested the top, where the whole group was taking in the unique scenery. I found a good spot to snap a picture, drank some water, and then we pressed on toward our lunch stop at mile 50. Spoiler alert: I once again lost touch with the group along the way and arrived solo. They had accidentally passed by the lunch viewpoint and ended up backtracking to where I was.
One of the best parts of a ride like this is knowing that the logistics of food, snacks, and refueling are taken care of. Jack and Kevin, our support crew, made sure we were well taken care of. They also served as the sag wagon if anyone needed help or wanted to shed gear as the day heated up. When they arrived and set up the lunch spread with every snack imaginable, I was running on empty. The ride had already drained my legs, and I knew I’d probably end up riding the rest of the route solo if I stayed with the advanced group. So why try to stick with them? I think it comes down to the connection I felt within the group over the past few hours. The conversations while pace-lining, climbing, or refueling are what make these days so special. I love connecting with people who share this common bond, and I enjoy learning about them along the way. To be honest, a lot of my conversation today revolved around what I’m doing with Basic, and I’m okay with that. After all, rides like this are exactly why I created this bike.
The Rapha FAR rides are not races. They’re not about going as fast as you can. These rides are about exploring your limits while surrounded by stunning scenery. While a more aerodynamic or lighter bike might have helped, there’s no other bike I’d rather ride than my Basic. For me, it goes back to the beginning of Rapha in the U.S., to the Rapha Continental team—a truly inspiring period for the brand and for road cycling in North America. When it was time to create a bike I truly wanted, one of my first thoughts was, “What would the Continental team ride today if they were still around?” Surely, it would be something stylish, dependable, smooth, simple, and, most importantly, durable. A bike that can take you anywhere you want to go. Maybe I’m romanticizing it, and the team would actually be on carbon road bikes with electronic shifting and disc brakes, but in my mind, it would look something like a Basic.
After lunch, I managed to hang with the group for another 10 miles. As we snaked our way through Anacortes, the pace slowed, allowing me to stop and take a picture of Mt. Baker. We rode together across a wonderful pedestrian bridge over Fidalgo Bay, and exited facing north directly toward Mt. Baker. Back on more open roads, the pace ramped back up, and I slowly watched the group pull away.
As I settled in to take on the next 25 miles alone, I caught back up to a group of 3 who were fixing a fellow rider’s flat tire. I pulled off my frame pump, topped his tubeless pressure back up, and off we went. Having ridden with a few of these riders from last years FAR ride, conversation flowed easily and I was able to stay the pace for the next 10 miles. Just as I was about to drop off their wheels for the last time, I got a nice boost of fun powered wattage as we raced through the 2 mile gravel trail along Padilla Bay, but had to say my goodbyes once we reached the pavement that followed.
The final 17 miles through the fields and farmlands of Mt. Vernon were incredibly tough. I was running on empty, fighting against a relentless headwind, and struggling to push through each pedal stroke with the little energy I had left. With 12 miles to go, I took my last energy gel, hoping to keep my pace from slowing too much. My goal was to reach the finish line quickly enough that the riders I had been following all day would still be there. Despite the difficulty, this stretch of the route had the potential to be amazing—the views were stunning in every direction, and for the last hour, there was hardly a car in sight.
When I pulled into the parking lot after 5 hours and 20 minutes of riding, I was welcomed by familiar faces, smiles, a few fist bumps, and, best of all, delicious pizza. The group swapped stories of the day's suffering and highlights, and I slipped into a post-ride daze. I ate, chatted for a little longer, thanked Jack and Kevin for all their support, and then began the two-hour drive home. As I reflect back on the day while writing this, I find myself eagerly looking forward to the next FAR ride at Mt. Rainier on June 7th. I’ll probably try to ride with the advanced group again, pushing myself to my limits and accepting that I might not be able to keep up—and that’s okay because that’s what these rides are all about for me: the beauty and the challenge of cycling.
Strava of the ride - https://www.strava.com/activities/14092027196
Interested in doing a ride like this? Check out more at rapha.cc and find your local clubhouse.
All photos shot by me on a CampSnap camera, mostly while riding…