I've left Blue Mt. Cafe in Anatone late and am trying to catch the group which has become two groups: Linda and Karen and ahead of them, Bruce, Carol and Debbie. And what's this? It is Carol who leads the pack, Bruce happily accepting a pull. Out front 50 feet is Chris.
A Saturday wedding (all in orange)kept Chris from joining us this year but not from riding out 55 miles to meet us at the Joseph Overlook.

Soon the world rights itself and Bruce takes the lead but Carol and Debbie don't fade and it is all I can do to hang on to this pace line. We are doing 28 to 30 mph headed for home. Bruce has Chris in his sites but he also wants to provide the Bruce Express. Carol fades briefly and I bridge the gap. She is back and Debbie right with her.

Bruce makes a move on Chris which has the effect of dropping the three of us but we hang on to a 27-28 mph pace and the five of us start down Anatone Grade together, the ladies leading.

Bruce ascends Anatone Grade. He had no hotshots to challenge him this year so he provided rides on the Bruce express.

The sun is brilliant. The air has an October edge. We've just blown whatever was left in our legs after our ride to Joseph and back and we are full of ourselves and the pure joy in motion we have been enjoying. We stand about at the Asotin Market retelling the story of our grand chasing of Chris who has disappeared off to the boat launch.

This has been a gleaming diamond of a weekend.

Jan and Becky kept us watered and fed and confident that we'd not be left by the roadside.

Chandler road the entire first day and Becky provided a second sag. Great to ride with you Chandler and thanks to you, Becky.

Jan got to ride some too. Thanks for the sag, Jan.

Linda and Chandler do Anatone together.

Linda returned to this ride a bit apprehensively as last year she'd felt pressure to keep up. Perhaps from me but also from herself. The mix was different this year and her riding has so improved that she rode everything but Bufford Grade on Saturday and finished smiling. Now, if she'd break that nasty running habit, we'd get her a new bike.

We had a huge turnout by this summer's standards. I don't like riding alone. That was never a problem this weekend.

Sadly we lost Steve and Chris by calling the ride for the first Oct. weekend, but we got a clean, crystalline weekend and Chris was able to join us, too.

We enjoy new riders. Karen was a delight always with a smile despite descending Rattlesnake in a tank top while I shivered for an hour afterwords.

The beautiful scenery made up for the near frostbite I suffered riding down Rattlesnake grade on Saturday. Brr. I'm still shivering.

Karen joined us from Pullman and rode both days only allowing her bike to rest on the biggest climbs. Hope to see you again soon, Karen.

Sean rode a mt. bike last year both ways. This year he had his new Lemond but a burger at Bogan's held him back on Bufford and a pulled thigh muscle slowed him down. He turned his weekend into a diamond by spending it with Carol. The two had a romantic afternoon together on Saturday and took turns riding on Sunday. And by the way, Sean is too "emotionally available" to Carol.

Emotionally is not the only kind of available Sean is.

We had plenty of sag. Well, perhaps too much. Lance's pickup has an amazing capacity to accept one more bike, one more sagging rider including the intrepid Lance himself.

Look at the all the bikes in the back of this rig! I guess bikes deserve a break too.

These people are having way too much fun.

Though he had not planned to attempt Bufford Grade, the chill in his bones after descending Rattlesnake on Saturday teased him into the attempt. But not for long. One major turn and an increasing pitch and Lance said "I quit." He didn't even keep riding until the sag arrived. He just quit.

Then Wendy sabotaged her own bike by shifting her chain into the spokes bending the derailleur hanger and leaving all the king's men (Lance and Sean) unable to put it right again. The club wasn't letting her off so easily though. Immediately the loan of bike by a sagging rider put her back on the road though soon six bikes graced Lance's pickup. They harrassed Chandler and me along the top before the RimRock Cafe.

I gave Lance such a bad time about sagging, that today he felt he had to climb Rattlesnake grade today. He promised to ride at 7mph and we started out following Wendy on Jan's bike and Debbie. But Chris came by and Lance went with him. Wendy said something about testosterone but I stayed back. Last year I hurt a knee on this hill and I wasn't looking to do that again.

Up before the sun, the club prepares to go to breakfast.

Keep your eye on Lance's pancakes.

Huge pancakes though they were, there is not need to play with your food, Lance.

Wendy tried out several bikes but seemed to prefer Jan's bike. However, Jan took it back at Blue Mt. and rode on in with Lance. By now Lance realized that he was going to end with just 95 miles. Despite he and Wendy having given me grief just Saturday about my having to read a century, now Lance, too, began hhis collection of centuries. When I celebrated the weekend by adding another 5 miles to the ride to get home, Lance was there with me.

Careful, Lance. Those centuries can become addicting. You can't ride just one. They are collectible but not transferable. Each one you collect, is yours alone though you allowed me to share your first.

Chris had lunch at Bogan's but the rest of us ate lightly before tackling RattleSnake. Notice that ice cream pie Wendy's eating? I had one two. Great energy source. I recommend it.

So what is it about 100? It is just a number. But what a number, round, even, substantial, complete. Lance and Wendy taught me a lesson this weekend. I'm not one for ceremony having little patience with weddings and funerals and birthdays and anniversaries. But correctly they point out that my 100s are a ceremony themselves.

And they are right. Linda may not see my centuries or even her own as a diamond, but I do. And this weekend was a double diamond for sure with great companions, weather crystal clear but with a touch of smoke to add value and character.

Hey, and Mt. St. Helens didn't spoil the show.