Crusty Cassette

Touring, touring. I've fallen in with bad company. After having resisted blandishments from Sean and Steve to outfit myself as a tourist--you know the drill: panniers, racks, trailers, gear to weight you down and prevent that feeling of regained youth and mobility a good road bike delivers.

After resisting such blandishments I find myself actually considering a tour in Death Valley of all places. Last year it was McCracken who kept getting me in trouble. This year it looks to be Doug. He's got his friend Scott and his fiance, Jen, as well as Steve all lined up to drive to Death Valley in the middle of February.

So I'm looking at trailers-Burley, BOB, Extraheel and studying weather and road maps for places as welcome sounding as Furnace Creek and Funeral Mountains. The ground temperature at Furnace Creek was 206 degrees once when the air was a cool 128 degrees. Okay so the forecast is for more than average rainfaill--over 2 inches when the average is 1.6 per year and February is the rainiest month of the year with an average of .35 hundreths of an inch.

But Funeral Mountains?

What am I thinking?

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.