Crusty Cassette

Is that all you've got?

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"Is that all you've got?"

I didn't actually see the fist shaken in the air, but I'm sure it was there.

Two hundred fifty Idaho bike Ride participants, SAG, mechanics, baggage handlers, and catering crew commanded Stanley City park atop a knoll with the entire Sawtooth range of craggy peaks arrayed before us north to south.

These young mountains are dramatic enough but today they put on a special show just for us.

All afternoon dark clouds swelled up to the south and flew directly over us dropping rain and hail one storm following har on another until finally the skies cleared bringing on that challenge to the gods.

Campers came out of tents and from under our dinner canopy ginerly surveying the damage left by rain and hail the size of marbles. Here a tent sagged; there someone pulled damp bags from another. My rainfly sagged against the tent producing a steady mist until I braved the storm and reset the stakes.

This had been our layover day in Stanley and some riders were still out on their own excursions caught in these mountain squalls.

"Is that all you've got?" struck me as a bit of unnecessary bravado. I figured one more good belt of hail would take my tent down.

But, in point of fact, that storm wasn't all the gods had in store for us on this 360 mile route from Carey through Arco, Challis, Stanley, Haily and back to Carey.

The 58 miles from Carey to Arco had a bit of tailwind, rolling hills, and a seven mile loop in Craters of the Moon.

IBR encouraged everyone to do the extra mileage. they need time to move camp--shower trucks, porta-otties, and camp central with tables, catering gear, and luggage. We'd outrun the luggage trucks on the last day.

Carey is at 5,000ft and we climbed from there. The second day was 85 miles. Linda and I planned to add enough for century rides but this day the gods had "more in store for us." More meant 50 miles of head wind to the high point. Throw in a rain shower wet enough to make me stop to put on my rain jacket and you have a very long day. Neither of us felt like adding more mileage.

The Salmon River headwaters near Stanley. The road from Challis to Stanley is narrow with little or no shoulder and replete with vacation travel trailers and a few big trucks. At 1 to 2 percent the 50 miles of mainly climbing doesn't sound hard but at elevation and following the tough ride the previous day, I found myself conserving my legs. Linda rode my slip-stream such as it was for most of the day.

The road winds around steep banks crossing the Salmon several times taking us up through forests and some steep climbing.

A few miles short of Stanley the road takes a bend opening onto your first view of the Sawtooths. Picture Opportunity.

The city park at Stanley is nothing more than an open field with wild grass and a couple of soccer backstops and a few wooden risers. But no one cared. Nothing blocks your view of those majextic peaks.

You sit and watch.

In 2003 IBR did this same route in 80-90 degree heat. The temps are cooler this year but at 6,000 feet the air is thin enough enough the sun is intense.

As with all our camp sites early arrivers grab the best camping spots. But here all is equally exposed. Not a tree in sight. Quickly tents popped up around the edges of the knoll. Gradually the field in-filled until one could scarcely find one's way back to his tent. No sense of urban planning in these campers.

Stanley was our layover day meaning we'd camp two nights at the same place. No rush to pack up in the morning meant a real break. Some signed up for hiking, white water rafting, rock clmbing or just chose to explore the three city blocks of Stanley and get some laundry done.

My plan was to do the optional layover day ride to Banner Summit on highway 21. Linda signed up for white water rafting. And now the gods got up close and very personal with the two of us.

I wasn't there to see it but I'm told Linda's expression was priceless when a sudden encounter of a very close nature sent her and another rafter into the ewater. A bit of pre-trip training and a guide saved her but not her sandles and hat. For that story you'll have to read Linda's Blog.

Banner Summit was indentifiable only by the road sign indicating a truck going down a steep grade. Well, that and the food stop at 25 miles. Only the last mile showed 5% on my gps. Most of the ride led away from Stanley toward a tree covered but modest 6700 feet. We'd climb to 8700 on the next day. This was a recovery day.

The return should have been easier still but a wind had come up forcing me to work harder going down than I had going up. that was the gods warming up. About 18 miles from Stanley I had what is prolitely known as an "accident" in my pants. I usually carry paper for the purpose but had none today.

Somewhere a God was laughing.

But he wasn't through. About 8 miles fron Stanley I noticed stiffness in my rear derailleur. That worried me since I've broken two rear cables in the last two years.

The gods had other plans. The front derailleur cable borke without warning. Now when the back one breaks, you are stuck in high gear but have full range in front. You are fine except for the steepest of climbs and I had none of those. Instead the front cable went taking with it all my high gears and I was descending but at 1 percent. I wanted to pedal. I wanted to spin, to feel the wind, crouch low in the aerobars, feel strong and free. Instead I coasted back to Stanley pedaling on little rises when I could.

The gods were getting a bit bored by now and though to dispense with me by slapping me around with a motorcycle.

In Stanley I stopped at atop sign like a good LCI. The streets are gravel and uncertain and I was about to climb a couple of hundred feet back to camp with a broken cable and a pant load when I felt pressure against my right shoulder. The pressure increased lifting my right foot off the ground leaving me clipped in on the left. I went down.

I looked up to see a motorcycle, engine off, its rider fitted out completely in leather and helmet.

"What are you doing back there?" he wanted to know.

From my position on the ground, I pointed. "I'm stopping at the stop sign. What are you doing backing out without looking?"

We decided no harm had been done but that's one stop sign I wish I had run.Not much fun for the gods though.

Just for practice, they threw in a thunderstorm before dinner. But I was clean, dry, and safely charging my gps at the library.

Given my day and Linda's, I didn't find the "bring it on" challenge as funny as I might have.

Thursday morning we woke to fog that made me think I was on the Oregon coast rather than in Stanely, Idaho. The fog finally lifted about 9 miles from town. Now we had Galena pass to look forward to. It's only 4.5 miles long and averages a little over 5 percent. But it does climb to 8700 feet. I had no trouble but neither did I feel I could reach down for more. That's pretty thin air.

The sun came out as we descended toward Ketchum and Sun Valley. We took the bike trail along a pretty stream through trees and grasses and camped in Hailey with lots of shade for everyone. The next morning we'd ride back to Carey on flat roads. The plan was to get camp moved while we were on the road. The shower truck made it and was ready for business when we arrived. The rest stop folks had motored on to Carey in the evening. A light lunch was available. But what good is a shower if your clothes are in the bags, in the trucks, on the road?

IBR organizers had not planned for the tailwind we enjoyed back to Carey. The one climb right before town wasn't enough to keep eager cyclists from rolling in early.

Some where the gods are pleased.

Here's Dave's brief account of STP from Saturday, the 17th.

Corrie,

My title of O.D.D is still intact. I did better my time from the last time I rode in 2003. First 100 miles in 5 hrs 30 min and the second 100 miles in 6 hrs. Average 17.6 mph.

Weather was about 55 when I started but seemed the temp dropped the some over the next few hours. It was totally overcast, not unusual for the coast, and finally burned off by the time I made it to Napavine so I finally got to warm up some. The crowds starting off on Saturday morning seemed larger to me. Made the start rather dicey. I'm not used to riding in such a large group especially with riders who cannot maintain their line in a pack. Instead of going with the flow and passing when safe they would dart around an through the large groups. Didn't get away from that nonsense till about the 50 mile mark. Never really got spread out so much that I could not see people ahead or behind me all the way to Portland.

I'll probably feel like doing it again in another 7 years of so

You and Linda have fun on the Bike Idaho ride. See ya in a couple of weeks

Dave

"This is an adventure," Linda enthused looking over the menu of the Whoopemup Hollow Cafe Sunday evening in Waitsburg.

"Frog's Legs," she finally announced.

Bill McPherson had eaten frog's legs and insisted they were just white meat, tasted fine, but didn't have much meat on them.

"Oh, ours are quite large," the waiter offered.

Jim and Wanda have led a club ride near Jim's home in Dayton for three years or so. Last year only Doug and I joined them. We had a hot day and a good meal but more riders would have been more fun. We were a bit disappointed.

We did better this year. Having a tandem rally in conjunction with the ride might have helped. Once Mike and Nicki had signed on, we got Helen and Bill and not surprisingly John and Carla from Spokane. Donna, Gary, Jim, Wanda, Linda and I had to do all our own work on signletons.

Jim had promised us a light wind from Waitsburg to Walla Walla and a tailwind on the return. He had no idea how right he was going to be.

Between Pomeroy and Dayton on the drive over we were treated to a blustery wind that made me wonder if we'd be able to ride. I wasn't too sure about driving in this wind.

We figured we'd suck a lot of tandem wheel today but the first hill out of Waitsburg proved too much for the tandems and Gary and I arrived first at the top. We stopped for picture taking before heading down into a strong headwind.

The route winds over routes used by the Walla Walla invitation race. Mike figured that first hill had been the prologue. The next one was clearly marked as a feed zone. But not for us.

We'd get sandwhiches and drinks at Safeways in Walla Walla and spent a pleasant forty minutes in Pioneer Park.

The temps had been mild starting at 11. The wind was cool. But at 2 as we left Pioneer Park the sun was plenty warm and even the shade had lost its edge.

Tailwinds are coveted by cyclists but on a warm day, you may not feel a wind at your back. The route climbs gently at 4% for several miles before desceding into the drainage leading back to Waitsburg. Each bend looks to be the last leading through golden wheat fields into the sky. But each bend reveals another which also must be the last.

I finally achieved the top but did't want to stand in the sun. Turning around I discovered a cool wind in my face. I couldn't believe how strong that wind had been blowing. I rode back down to the end of our group. Gary didn't believe we had a tailwind.

The descent is fairly short and swooping and sweeps the rider out to the Prescott Highway where we should have taken a right back to Waitsburg. Mike and Nicki got off quickly on their tandem and disappeared. When I got to the road, Gary and Linda were following Bill and Helen toward Prescott. I called Mike to make sure they hadn't gone to Presscott too. Regrouped, we cruised back to the park in Waitsburg, cleaned up and presented ourselves at the Whoopemup at 4.

The Whoopemup puts on a bit of high-falutin air adding 18% to the bill and providing only one bill to groups of 8 or more. We had some fun figuring our tabs and watching Mike and Jim count the lucre. They let us leave so we must have gotten it right.

Oh, and Linda never got her frog's legs. They had run out. Tough catching them big hoppers, I guess.

For the ride of it Corrie