Mmmm ... 5-cent Powerbar

Date: July 12
Mileage: 30.1
July mileage: 335.7
Temperature upon departure: 55

If you ever make it down to the End of the Road, Alaska, the Homer Tribune just published my own limited and subjective Biking Guide to Homer. Those are the trails. Here's the mountain/road package. Hey, I tried.

Theroretically, I should be entering the "peak" of my summer bicycling season in the next few weeks. It's hard to peak out when there aren't any more hours in the day to train. Since I still only have about an hour or two each weekday to ride, I've been trying to up the intensity - more hills, more attempts at speed, etc. I'm not all that savvy as to what these efforts have won me in fitness, but they sure do make me voraciously hungry.

This irritates me, because the hunger binges are becoming harder to avoid - and doing so just makes me grumpy. If I actually sit it out long enough, my appetite returns to normal and I can be satisfied with the appropriate number of calories. But if I don't sit it out, it's all-out, hands-in-the-Froot-Loop-Box binging. Must ... resist.

Geoff recently returned from Utah. Before he flew home, he made a stop at Market Square in west Salt Lake. Market Square sells discount food in the academic sense - although as far as quality, it ranks somewhere below a church food pantry but above the City Dump.

Anyway, he returned with two huge sacks full of assorted energy bars: some mashed, some melted, most expired, but all well under a dime a piece. I ate one yesterday - I believe it was flavored like Honey Nut Cheerios - and to my astonishment, I didn't feel the urge to double over or sprint frantically to the bathroom. At least I know they're probably safe. Geoff has many dozens of these bars stashed around the house, so my new plan is to regulate myself to these when I feel the urge to binge - by carrying them on rides and also by setting up a strict, self-regulated rule that only the bars are available for an hour after a hard ride. My hope is, that when left to the choice of waiting out my cravings or choking down some unidentifiable 5-cent barwith French packaging and the look of a Tootsie Roll that has spent the past decade eroding beneath a couch cushion - that I'll take the path of easy resistance.

Baiku 2

Date: July 10 and 11
Mileage: 18.4 and 30.6
July mileage: 305.6

The mileage stacked up

Over these thoughts, stashed wayside

And still I rode on

Tour de Point

Date: July 9
Mileage: 66.2
July mileage: 256.6
Temperature upon departure: 60

Today I latched onto the Sunday ride of local road cycling club - the "Homer Cosmic Hams." With about nine or ten regular members, they comprise the only club in town - although that's one more club than I thought there was.

Not that I'm all that familiar with club riding, but this group seemed to have a particular tint of good ol' Alaskana. For one, half of the "road" ride was on a pockmarked stretch of gravel that I had previously only dared to ride on my mountain bike. (I rode my road bike today, because I figured these guys knew what they were talking about. My lower arms are still tingling.) For two, most of the members showed up on all manner of Frankenbikes - an old Cannondale mountain bike outfitted with slicks and a strange single front shock, a 1970s green Fuji with a much newer red front fork, etc. And three, after finally getting into a groove in our paceline on the descent into Anchor Point, the guy in front yelled "Espresso stop, half mile!" and everyone fanned out into a breakaway sprint that I haven't seen since the last time I snuck a peak at OLN highlights.

But these guys and one woman - three in or around retirement age - sure could haul. Not that they even cared. Besides the coffee break, there were three or four other stops at the top of hills while we waited for the rear to catch up. I was pulling when we reached the end of the loop and no one even raced in front of me. There never seemed to be even a hint of competition, despite the fact that the group is currently training for the Ride for Life and the MS 150.

But the best parts of riding with this club:
1. Before we left, they made clear that under no circumstances would I be left behind if I didn't keep up.
2. They didn't act surprised when I actually did keep up.
3. They were very tolerant of my total lack of paceline experience, even as I coasted as many as two bike lenghts behind the person in front of me (I know ... the nerve!)
4. The chided me for the state of my helmet, which means
a. They care; and
b. They know what they're talking about.

We rode 28 miles together and it took a nearly 2 1/2 hours. But my bike computer registered an average moving speed of 18 mph, and that's factoring in the gravel and the huge hill climb. These are cyclists who know how to enjoy the ride.

I thought my reputation as a local journalist and somewhat notorious winter cyclist would precede me, but sadly, no one had ever heard of me and most were surprised to learn my true mission - which was to write an article about the local bike club. Interestingly enough, most of them had heard of Geoff, thanks to this article, and his penchant for standing out as the only classic skier during this past winter's very popular nordic ski races.

"Oh, you're that running guy's girlfriend."

Sigh.

So if I ever meet up with these guys again, I'm gonna rock that paceline.