Roanoke to Roanoke

I love me a theme for a ride and I’ve had in mind for a while this one: Roanoke to Roanoke, by which I mean, east across the I-90 bridge to Mercer Island and the Roanoke Inn, a charming (almost too charming) little pub I had never, much to my amazement, been to in a decade and a half of living in Seattle, then back west, along the lake for a bit, then through Interlaken to the Roanoke Tavern, on 10th Avenue, just a few blocks from where Jen and I lived when we first moved here, but which I’ve also tended to overlook, having been in there fewer than a handful of times, even though, it was once, and for almost five years, the closest watering hole to my home.

So, on Friday, after I finished up most of the rest of my end-of-quarter grading, I set out, under fair skies, on this little excursion and it didn’t disappoint. Heading east along the I-90 trail, I had to fight a bit of a headwind, but as I was in no particular hurry, I didn’t very much mind.

I was impressed with how lively the Roanoke (east) was at around 3:00 on a Friday afternoon: a couple tables full of business types, making deals, some retirees enjoying a leisurely afternoon meal, and even some spandexed bikers finishing up their training ride with a cold one. I had an IPA at the bar and found out from the bartender that the picturesque front porch is usually available in the evenings, information that may be useful for some upcoming .83 ride.

Thereafter, I made my way west across the bridge, then wound around north along Lake Washington before ascending through Seattle’s oldest bike path (I’m told), the Interlachen trail to the Roanoke Tavern on 10th. It was closed, though, so I wasn’t able to complete the beer cycle, not until I rode over to the Elysian, anyway.