Crusty Cassette

Doug's email wasn't firm. "I'll try to be at the boat launch at 11," he wrote.

My reply was even more ambiguous. "Watch out for wet weather." I really had meant to confirm that I'd ride Saturday morning. Honest.

After a week of cold, clear days, the weather turned threatening. In retrospect I'd probably have been better off cycling in the sunshine. The wind had been minimal. By 11 am the wind was significant.

Doug had brought along his friends Scott and Jen. This was perhaps Scotts second ride with the club and Jen's first. Doug wanted to stay close in to town in case the weather delivered on its rainy promise. Scott suggested reverse Lapwai but thought better of it when he learned it was 42 miles. "Too far to go on a cold day." Yeah, it is 31 degrees on the reader board on Southway. And then there was the wind chill.

We headed out to the Casino into a strong east wind. The return trip on the frontage roads was great and we went on around Red Wolf. I decided to ride back to the boat launch with the group before riding home for about 34 miles.

My toes were cold inside my wool socks and booties. But we had a good ride. Companions can keep you warm.

Bikes abound as sun comes out.

Linda and looked about in dismay. Not a single cyclist in site at the boat launch when we arrived.

But then Chris pledaled up saying he'd seen Doug heading for Hell's Gate. By one the four of us were ready to start. Chris and I had done Lewiston Loop three weeks in a row. I suggested Evans, Clemins, Asotin Creek which has mild climbs and 30 miles. Chris wanted to add on the Rose Garden.

Linda said she'd meet us going up Evans.

Doug took the lead up separator grade. Never let Doug lead. He has no judgment. Chris hung back. By the time I got to the top I was blowing. On the flat Chris took the lead. We were working hard the entire way. We did make a potty stop at Roosters, but no Linda.

Chris took off on highway 12 and I dropped back to ride with Doug he promptlly went around me and headed off to catch Chris. What the heck, I thought and dropped in behind to draft.

But again no Linda at Evans road. By the time we hit Clemens we had given up finding her. Surely we would have caught her by now.

It wasn't until just before the Y on Asotin Creek that we saw her yellow jacket ahead of us. Wither her was Bill. He'd missed our start watching a playoff game. At the Y Linda insisted she had too ridden up Evans. Shle headed hojme, while the guys went on to the end of the pavement, this time with Bill setting the pace.

The sun made the 45 degree temps seem warmer though on Asotin Creek in the late afternoon, we found ourselves often in chilling shade. Still Chris and I had taken off our jackets and kept them off. Doug refuses to remove anything even when he is too warm. His balaclava stayed on all day.

The beautiful day appears to have been all across the state. Gene Bisbe who writes Bicylcing Bis posted this blog with a picture of Lake Washington in the background.

For the ride of it.

"There's a biker up there," Linda said as we joined the bike path at the foot of Critchfield.

I couldn't see anyone but then I can't see any way. But soon I did spot a figure moving away quickly in the distance. Linada and I weren't going to catch him.

Helen, whose been on absentee list recently, had promised to show up but I expected no one else. The sky had been clear all morning but cold. By ride time though it had clouded up and the temperature was at a rideable 42 at my house.

Linda and I usually hit 129 to get to Southway rather than that steep twisty trail. As I passed under the bridge about to swing onto the bike trail, a cyclist came up the trail and headed across the bridge.

He was on an older bike, had one black shoe and one white--looked like a tenny runner and he had skinny legs like Mike Warnock. He foold me though since he was riding platform pedals. Turned out is was Mike on his winter bike, an old Schwinn. Still looked pretty light though.

Chris had driven down from the frozen north. Said he had five inches of fresh snow in his front yard this mroning. Chris only gets to ride when he comes to the vally but he still disappears out in front.

I suggested that Helen and Linda meet us somewhere for coffee assuming they'd ride the Clarkston Loop but Helen wanted to do Lindsay Creek. Chris, Mike and I headed up Tammany.

It wasn't long before the clouds cleared off and we found ourselves casting long dark shadows. No snow line appeared on the hill and most of the snow melted from the bed of Chris's pickup before we got back. I saw one reader board that claimed 53 degrees. It always lies though. Let's say 45 degrees. Not bad for the first week of January.

We didn't have enough light for a stop at Polar Bear and riding home so we scratched the snack.

Nice to have a crowd.