I should have known better. I should have known not to trust Trickster Clifford. He likes letting someone approach and then innocently accelerates. He thinks that’s a big laugh. Cliff had a surprise for me alright.

Linda and I left the house at 7:45 but I began to worry that I hadn’t given myself time to get Deary City Park in time to be ready for the ride. When I pulled up behind a silver car, I thought it might be Debbie. Doesn’t she always get a ride with Cliff? Has Cliff cancelled out, I wondered?

But no. There was Cliff sitting in the shade at Deary Park. Calm and collected. The first to arrive. Debbie had stopped at the convenience store. Nicky and Mike pulled in with Tamara. This was Tamara’s first ride on the White Pine drive and it was a glorious morning. Everything is still full green and flush.

Nicky wanted to take a book to read. Her back up plan was to sit in the shade and read while Mike finished the ride and came to pick her up. In a stunning display of fortitude, Mike made her leave the book behind. “You’re going all the way,” he said.

It was a day for male assertiveness. Even Sean had gotten permission for a Sunday ride.

But where were Wendy and Dave? I expected them to bike in from Harvard but instead they drove. Wendy whined a bit about getting Dave started in the morning. Something about a trimming of the beard. Should I have shaved?

And Laureen made 11. She’s still planning to work in a century. Cliff and I offered to take her on one of our weekend jaunts, but I think she’s holding out for a supported ride. She finished today’s grueling ride in better shape than I did. I declare you ready for that century Laureen.

Wendy prefers the counterclockwise loop going out to Boville first since this eliminates the most heavily traveled road early in the day. Dave was still preparing himself when everyone else gave up waiting and headed out. Dave and I did the ride to Boville alone though we spotted Cliff, one of the last to leave, a couple of times. We regrouped in Boville where it was already 80 degrees.

The next 15 miles took us through the mountains. This is a challenging route going clockwise. The hills were more gentle in this direction. A slight head wind cooled our bodies. We road through corridors of evergreens and climbed short rollers only to fall further on the otherside. Sean reported at Harvard that we had actually descended more than ascended for the day. I had told Nicky this was mostly a downhill ride.

Several times today Sean remarked that Cliff “must be feeling his oats.” Cliff was always right out in front. We began calling him Chris. There’d be the pack and 10 or 15 feet in front was Chris, er, Cliff idling along one hand dangling at his side as he rested while we struggled to keep the gap from growing. Only on hills did he ever fall back enough for me to pass him.

Watching Linda and Cliff play pool was like climbing a steep hill. You're so relieved when it is over.

We had lunch in Fernwood at the Frosty Mug. It's a pink building but the burgers are good. Linda has some bad habits beginning to show. Only last month she and her mother hit Vegas together and those pool tables just called out to her today.

Folks in Fernwood asked if we didn’t think it was too hot for riding, but with only 35 to 40 miles to go were almost halfway and feeling good. Several shorter climbs lay ahead of us before we would begin to really climb up White Pine. I remembered that climb as being “not so bad.” Perhaps that’s why I tried to hold 10 mph. The top seemed always to be just around the next bend but always the next bend revealed another bend. I collapsed in the shade at the top to wait.

Mike had a better idea: Get water at White Pine Campground. The descent through the shaded evergreen lanes was cooling. The water from the well won through pumping a lever was cold. Everyone took a turn soaking their heads. The faint sulfur odor didn’t bother me though the Chem Prof refused to drink the water. Nick pronounced the ride worth while just for White Pine Campground. She didn’t even regret not having her book.

In Harvard she was rethinking that position. “Wouldn’t this be a nice place to sit and read?” she asked. It was Dave who helped us summon the strength to go on by promising us beer in Deary.

Sean and Tamara lead us off followed by Cliff. They made the turn up the hill out of Harvard well ahead of us and kept that lead. I was feeling spent but kept my pace steady finally catching and riding with him for a bit. Sean and Tamara topped out first and disappeared. Could I catch them? Perhaps if Sean were riding at Tamara’s pace. She’s a strong rider but likely they’d be talking. It was only their lead that kept them out in front. I knew there were rollers that would probably slow them down but did I have the strength to take adavantage of them? I didn’t have the strength to hammer but I didn’t maximize the downhills and gradually I closed the gap.

A couple miles out of town Sean spotted me and suddenly abandoned Tamara—what has happened to chivalry? The rollers continued long after I had lost all enthusiasm for them. Tamara broke her pace a bit and let me catch up. “My legs are done,” she announced. And yet there was another hill, and another and still another. “Are we almost there?” she wanted to know. And we were. I lost her at the intersection and couldn’t find the strength to catch her. She headed directly to the grocery. I went back to the park, rolled my bike into the shade and collapsed. Had this only been 83 miles?

When Tamara showed up with an Alaskan Amber, I began my slow recovery. Cliff rolled in complaining about those rollers. Only Sean said he felt like he could do more. Nicky had found the strength to finish but had earned a cramp in doing so. Laureen came spinning up the hill looking fresh. Dave got his beer and Wendy made it a two SoBe day.

Linda’s completed two 80+ mile rides in the heat. She just keeps coming. I still think she needs to do more biking early. She had trouble with her shifting again. Dave thinks I need to take it into the shop and stop being a cheapskate.

“Corrie, something’s wrong with my computer. Come look at this,” Cliff called. In the 100 degree sun it was hard to make out the figures on his computer. “10 miles?” I said. “Something’s wrong alright.”

“No. One, Zero, four,” Cliff read. “That’s 104 miles. I was here at 7 and rode to Boville and back. That’s why Debbie didn’t come up with me,” he gloated.

Who puts in 20 extra miles before the club ride? Oh, guess I don’t want to ask that question. I couldn’t have done it today. I’ve felt better after centuries. Maybe it was the sulfur in the water.