Bee time

Last week I spent a morning with two men who moved a bee colony from an old stump to a new home.

I doubt I've mentioned this before, but I find bees fascinating and I love honey (I put it in my coffee every morning).

I have to admit, I did suffer an injury. I am slightly allergic to bees, but the last time I'd been stung was more than 1o years ago. On little guy got me Thursday, between my middle and ring finger on my right hand. As a result, my hand was swollen all weekend. It's back to its normal size now.

Considering the men were chain-sawing the stump apart, I count myself very lucky these bees were relatively docile.

I wore a mask during this operation, which made taking pictures very difficult. I couldn't bring the viewfinder to my eye. So I would take a photo, see how it turned out, adjust, and take another. The result was a LOT of photos.

A story did run on Saturday, but I'll post more bee photos this week here.

Enjoy

So long, cyclists

These are my last CROC photos.

I wanted to enter a one or both of these for the newspaper, but I worried the cyclists would be too small to show up in newsprint.

I had fun with perspectives on the first photo, making the sign for Missouri Gulch large, the cyclists small, and even smaller (squint!) a kite tied to the sign.

I'm sure that kite was a welcome sign to riders after 20-or-so miles cycling.

The second photo is from another boisterous volunteer, cheering a bicycle rider on as he left the rest area.

It was a fun weekend, for all involved, including myself.

A bad influence

What could this member of the "Bodine" family (the "white trash" name the volunteers give themselves at the rest area for the CROC ride) be pulling from her handy pocket?

Why, cigarettes, of course!

Just kidding. These are candy cigarettes.

I didn't know they even made them, or sold them anymore. I vaguely remember candy cigarettes from when I was a kid, but I thought government regulators pulled them for being a bad influence on children. I never understood that. I wanted the candy cigarettes because they were candy, not because they were cigarettes.

Nevertheless, someone had found them and brought them to the rest area. Even better, they were "Round Up" candy cigarettes. What could be more perfect for Pendleton?

I especially liked this shot for a to show a bad influence. The volunteers gave the candy cigarettes to the bike riders who, just like everyone did when they were kids, pretended to smoke them. It might be hard to see in this photo, but the volunteer is raising a candy cigarette right to the waiting lips of the cyclist.

Fun atop Cabbage Hill

I visited the "white trash" rest area for the CROC last Sunday. This is the stop all the riders and volunteers were talking abut - the one they said I shouldn't miss.

There the volunteers dressed in their backwoods party best, though they had to layer up because the temperatures were in the 40s.

Last year's theme was a shotgun wedding, so this year they celebrated the "burf-day" of the new "baby." In case you can't tell, the baby is the red-haired doll in these photos.

Goofy stretch

Goofy is drawn to goofy, I guess.

Saturday morning Pendleton on Wheels member Chuck Wood, dressed in a CROC hat, showed some stretching moves to the five cereal guys.

Five guys from the Vancouver area (and one from Athena) dressed in cereal jerseys: Apply Jacks, Smacks, Corn Flakes, Frosted Flakes, and Pops. They were total hams, ready for a photo, or two, or 10. They even had me pose a photo with one of them.

CROC: Century Ride of the Centuries

I spent the weekend with cyclists taking part in the Century Ride of the Centuries - a series of rides through Umatilla County covering land from the wheat fields to the Columbia River to the Blue Mountains.

In the photo above, Herb Bitting, my unofficial guide to the event, holds up one of the patches cyclists can earn. This one, conquering the Blues, is for riding all the way from Pendleton to the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center past Cabbage Hill. There's another one for conquering Cabbage Hill, and a third one that says, "I'm a weenie, I drove Cabbage Hill." That one is for riders who drive up to Deadman Pass, then bike to the interpretive center.

Below are a couple riders getting their start on Saturday at Tamastslikt Cultural Institute — the starting point for all the rides.