Crusty Cassette

I hear chimes.

I hear two chimes. Its not my watch which chimes twice on the hour though I can't spare a glance so focused am I on keeping the pedals turning. Its my GPS. I've set it to stop recording when I drop below 3 mph. It chimes politely to let me know its on the job, a kind of electronic salute.

I can see 16% grade showing on the GPS. I must have dropped below three for a second. I'm at 102 miles and climbing the last hill up from the Spokane River Centennial Trail route west of Spokane. Behind me Tibbals is just starting this climb on his recumbent with legs he claimed had been pushed too far 25 miles ago.

"The climbing's not so bad," Dave reported before we started this morning. "I used Map My Ride to map it." And he is right. This scenic ride along the Spokane River has no Spiral Highway, no Wawawai Canyon, no Old Winchester Grade. Spokane cyclists always ask if we really ride the Spiral Highway. They are impressed by the length.

The Lilac Century does include one long climb of 11 miles ending in Reardon, WA, but it is 2% to 4% rising through a twisting tree lined valley. This is a ride in the park by comparison with our climbs.

On the other hand the ride along the Spokane river rollercoasters suddenly and steeply, leaving quads quivering. Even 5,000 feet of climbing spread out over one hundred miles of short climbs can look pretty flat on an elevation map. Don't believe it.

Dave and I are pretty much dead last. That doesn't mean we are alone. The Centennial Trail along the river is only a few miles from downtown Spokane and popular with cyclists, runners, families. The river is runs wide and smooth here and offers dramatic vistas from forested slopes.

But the rest of the century riders have pretty much left us behind. We started at the back of the pack to be sure and we did average over 17 mph most of the way to Reardon. But somewhere along the line we got dropped. Recumbents don't do well on those 12% climbs and Dave's legs were played out. I stopped at the tops of the hills and then chased him on the downsides. We were having fun and didn't need no stinkin' racers anyway.

We made that 10 mile loop seeing only a single rider ahead of us. Just before the last rest stop we caught a single woman rider. She's from Colfax and I gave her a club card. She seemed tired but pulled off before us saying she'd see us when we caught her again. She was at Fort Wright when we got back. She probably found new strength trying to get away from two old men.

Once again, Linda did the 50 miler starting an hour later but not before she went to Lourdes Cathedral for a little pre-ride helping. You train your way, I"ll train mine.

I'm pleased with my ride. I felt strong the entire way though the legs complained, they never quit. Two weeks ago I wasn't sure I could do this ride. My foot was better but the only post injury century I had done was with Dave the Saturday Steve was here. The last 30 miles was flat and I was tired. The foot still troubles me walking but on the bike, its never an issue and with Lilac I've completed a century in just over six hours. Chris wouldn't be satisfied, but I am.

Is that a chime, I hear?

Dark, dense, clouds cling low over the Lewiston Valley off to my right. Tell-tale vertical streaks suggest rain. The sun almost shines on me, however. I'm approaching MacIntosh having just come up Lindsay Creek with a bit of north wind to help. The weather's fine thank you.

Not so true at 9 this morning, though. Nicki called to report snowflakes in the Orchards. "But Debbie and I are going anyway," she says. And I assert my intention to join them. The sky is dark, gloomy but I see no snowflakes and I've eagerly anticipated this ride which usually brings out a number of folks from the valley as well as a few who meet us in UnionTown from the Palouse.

Doug and Jen and I did this ride on Wednesday leaving my legs pretty tired but I'm anxious to try them again on a long hill.

At 9:30 Linda comes back from her run saying "it's snowing." Sure enough the flakes are coming down, leaving the road wet. We decide to skip it. When the snowflakes fly, Linda says, there's no easy does it ride. We call Nicki and Scancel. She threatens me with a blog. Do your worst,Nicki.

10 am finds both Linda and I at Helen's. Quilting and her new TV are on our agenda. Now the snowflakes are really falling and we're glad to be inside. By 10:30, however, the snow has stopped and the sun's trying to shine. Still cold and windy--not biking weather.

It's after 12 before I get a chance to go out. I put on the wool socks and scull cap but bring only the summer weight longfingered gloves. I figure to do 40 miles around Lindsay Creek and Evans in a figure eight. But as I climb Lindsay, jacket rolled in my back pocket, sweat band replacing my skull cap, the number 50 starts nagging at the corners of my mind. From my house Sage BAkery is closer to 50 than 40. I could add Peola road at the top of Evans. I consider ten miles of Peola and doubt I'd actually do it. I could go over Web Ridge and around Lapwai. That'd be closer to 60. I have time and light, but it is cold.

What about Waha? I wanted to do a climb today? Spiral is 8. I've done 5 on Lindsay Creek. I don't usually like the Climb up Waha but this gives me the ability to control my distance so I arrive at home without having to add more miles. I figure I'll need to get to 25 miles even though I'll be returning by Tammany--a bit shorter but not by much.

Mistake!

The climb was fine. I've lost 20 pounds and felt good on the mostly 5 percent climb. Even after the first steep section, the road though appearing flat continues to climb at 3% before finally dipping down into a flat before the trees and the real climbing.

I call Linda. "What's the weather doing?" I ask. I'm guessng I'll likely get wet before I get home. "It's dark," she says but no, it is not raining.

I'm actually enjoying myself. I know the wind will be in my face when I turn North but it will be downhill. I'm not worried. Should have been. Maybe the fact that I could see my breath should have been a hint. I put the jacket back on and the skull cap and head down.

Not long and I'm holding one gloved hand under my armpit, then switching off. My toes are cold and I'm glad for those wool socks. At Web Ridge intersection, I stop and blow on my fingers, put them under my shirt. It isn't just he cold either. For some reason riding into the wind always makes me feel as though the rear tire is flat. Every bump feels like the rim is on the road. It is unsettling and so is the roar of the wind. For a time I'm in my own world, cold, noisy, disorienting. I can't hear traffic which shakes me when it roars around unexpected. I stop again at McIntosh to warm my fingers.

Tammany is lower and warmer but the wind is now coming from the West. I can't catch a break. Back on the bike trail at Hell's Gate the wind is out of the south and I'm comfortable again. I ride clear to the boat launch before turning around to make sure I'll hit the magic 50 miles.

Suddenly my bike is making a squeak with every pedal? Dry chain. I have to believe so though I've lubed recently. I stop, adjust my pump which has slid down and is affecting my shifting. I think perhaps the pedal is squeaking against the foot of the pump but it isn't. I'm no longer tired. I'm focused on the noise and figuring out what's wrong. I'd thought to clean the chain in the morning, but now I know I'll put the bike on the stand immediately.

The sun has come out. I remove the jacket and cap for the ride up Peasly and enjoy the last 2 miles home. My toes and fingers have forgotten the cold. I've seen no snow nor rain. But yes, I'm a wimp. I don't mind 'cause the squeak was just the pedal.

For the ride of it.

Corrie wimps out!

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