Not One Cookie

This has been the oddest holiday season yet. I did not bake one single cookie. I did make a couple batches of peppermint bark, with one more to go, but not one cake, not one cookie, went into my oven.

I also haven't been on the bike in weeks. The main reason for both: exhaustion. It's amazing how tired you can get from standing on your feet for six hours and talking about kitchen equipment.

I love Sur La Table; it's my favorite kitchen store and I've been working there for the past couple months, part time to supplement a very slow healthcare pr practice. I look forward to going into the store. I can be having a lousy morning but when I get to Sur La Table, surrounded by baking sheets and good olive oil, my demeanor takes a decidedly turn upward.

By and large the customers are terrific. They want to hear my opinion and they are sincerely interested in cooking and setting a beautiful table. Of course, there are always the ones who don't like anything they are shown and no matter how hard I try, nothing makes them happy. But those folks are few and far between, and I really get a lot of joy from explaining how the Jura Capresso works or finding the perfect gift for a young woman's boss.

I refer to the group I work with as a happily dysfunctional family. They are smart, talented and by and large, energetic men and women. Lively senses of humor abound and we really do have fun. We laugh a lot and the hours really do seem to fly by. There are a few kids working for the holiday season and they are a joy. They don't take themselves or what they are doing too seriously, but they are killer workers. Oh, to have that kind of energy again.

But the job is taking its toll on my legs. When I get home all I want to do is get horizontal. First, the couch, and then some tv watching in bed until I fall asleep, which is generally early. While I might have had the time to bake, I have simply not had the strength or energy.

I am curious to see how riding the bike will feel. While I surely have been using my leg muscles, I haven't exercised them, and my fear is that the first big hill will be torture. But then, my hope is, the muscles will loosen up and remember what they are supposed to do.

Since today is Christmas, my guess is that after my six hour shift in the store tomorrow, I will no longer be working 30-plus hour weeks and I'll have some recovery time between stints selling Cuisinarts, and life will get back to a little more semblance of normal. But it's been fun and I hoped I helped a lot of customers have a little happier holiday.

No Riding, but lots of (talk about) Eating

It rained most of the weekend so the tandem stayed dry and cozy, hanging in the rafters of the garage.

Sunday is our usual riding day but with the rain and a scheduled meeting, we had a lazy morning reading the paper and then a nice lunch/brunch at Comfort Food Cafe. I had a blackened chicken sandwich with avocado, pepperjack cheese, chipotle mayo and lots of lettuce. It was a bit much, but it was good.

The afternoon took me to Peets in Novato to meet with a group of ALC riders. We are planning a "Crab Feed" to raise funds for AIDS Lifecycle.

Back east we call them "crab feasts" and we have the smaller Chesapeake Bay blue crabs, which will always be my favorite. In all my years in California I've had Dungeness crab only a couple of times. They are good, but I guess my heart belongs to steamed crabs, covered in spicy Old Bay.

That being said, a group of us are hustling to put together a fundraiser in what could be record time. We want to have it late January or first week in February, which, in reality, is not a whole lot of time to find a place, organize it and get lots and lots of silent auction items.

We'll have a live auction as well, but that will have only a few select items. Two already on the list are a house in Tahoe for a week, courtesy of Robin's ex husband, and an aerial tour of the bay, courtesy of my husband. Two down, two or three more to go. Our big hope is to get a chef to do a home dinner, but despite all of our fabulous connections, we discovered we don't know one with a "name." Back to the drawing board on that one.

I discovered there is a traditional menu for a crab feed: crabs (of course), pasta, salad and bread. Easy enough.

Since they seem to be incredibly popular in Sonoma County, my hope is that we will sell out, raise lots of money, all going to my very favorite cause-- helping people with HIV and preventing more people from contracting the virus.

So what could be a better fundraiser! Food, bikes and the AIDS Foundation. A winner all around.

Tiburon Loop and Bread Pudding

You'd think by now we'd be tired of Tiburon Loop, but we took a different route, at least initially this time-- we headed around Roque Morais, or as I call it, Croque Monsieur. We hadn't ridden that stretch for a while, so it seemed new and fun.

Tib Loop is not the most challenging route we ride, but it was a great day to really stretch out on the flats and rollers. We continue to build speed and Jerry and I felt particularly in synch. It was a brisk, sunny day and getting out in the clean air felt wonderful. We were definitely chilly in the shade, but our speed kept us moving into the sun.

We thought we might meet up with an ALC training ride, but we didn't see anyone until we were actually close to finishing our ride. They probably took a different route-- down Blithedale instead of Croque Monsieur. I like our route better.

Since we weren't riding with ALC'ers, we didn't feel obligated to go to Shark's deli, the usual stopping place for training rides. The stop used to be a coffee shop in downtown Tiburon, but a training ride leader felt dissed by them because they stopped putting out a big crock of water, so she unilaterally changed the stop venue. In reality, I really don't like Shark's. I don't like the food and on a chilly day there is only outside seating, and I wanted to be inside and cozy.

So we stopped at the formerly sanctioned stop whose name I forget. But they have inside seating, great coffee, and I discovered that they have wonderful bread pudding. I think they must make it from leftover cinnamon rolls. It's not too sweet, but it's crusty and has just the right amount of egg and milk. It's served room temperature and it was the perfect snack.

We shared a table with two other cyclists and had a nice chat with them. They were younger and definitely more fit than we are, but they didn't look down their nose at us and seemed to enjoy the chat. It was a time that I wished I had our ALC cards with our donor site on it. We've got to get those made. I have yet to raise a dime and need to get on the stick.

When we arrived home I was in a far better mood than when I had left. I've got lots on my mind and really needed a ride to clear out the negative thoughts and troubles. And the bread pudding didn't hurt, either.

29 Miles; 29 Years

Yesterday was one of the more important rides I've been on in a while. It was the World AIDS Day ride-- Nov. 29, 29 miles, for the 29 years of the AIDS pandemic.

More than 100 of us gathered at McLaren Lodge in San Francisco, many of us wearing red. After the usual stretching and safety speech, we joined hands and had a moment of silence to honor and remember those we have lost to this horrible disease. I thought of Jimmy, of Andrew, of Ricardo and many other friends and acquaintances whom we have lost. Some died peacefully, some in terrible pain and anguish. Some surrounded by friends and family; some alone. No one should die alone, and I so look forward to the day when no one dies as a result of HIV and AIDS.

One member of the Positive Pedalers told his story of how the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, through services and support, helped him get sober and healthy. Now he rides and is strong.

Treatment has come a long way in the 29 years since the virus was discovered, but we're not there yet. We have no cure, nor no guarantee that the current drug regimen will continue to work or cause other health problems. And every day, people continue to be infected. Even some people I know, who in their hearts knew better, have become infected in the last few years.

Fewer children are being infected, which is wonderful, but again, through education and medication, we can stop children from being infected. The disease still takes huge tolls in other parts of the world, and it is still killing many many people in the United States.

AIDS can never be an afterthought. It can never be a disease that is forgotten, until there is no more AIDS.

Yesterday's ride was short-- only 29 miles, but next to my 545 mile ride I'll take in June, it's the most important ride I do.

Fairfax and FKV

Well, this post might cause some consternation among some folks, but I feel it's something that I need to say.

What is it with cyclists wearing kits? Do they really think that the Marin bike path is part of the Tour De France? Or that Camino Alto is closed to cars so they can pedal up the hill in a Pelaton?

Jerry named them Full Kit Vermin today. These men and women may be perfectly nice (or not) when off their bicycles, but something must happen to them when they put on their Dolce Vita jerseys and shorts. Or their Fizik jerseys and shorts. Or whatever. They have never uttered the phrase "on your left," and stop signs and red lights are for other riders, or perhaps just cars. And "car back" means pull out in the lane.

The FKV are the riders who give the rest of us a bad name, and I, for one, am sick of it, but there's not a darn thing I can do, really. True, there are a few of them who are polite. They will say good morning on the way by to let us know they are passing and they don't come back over so close that we are afraid our front wheel is going to get clipped.

We have been dissed by FKV, but that just makes me think they are immature brats, and I don't really care about that. What I care about is their unsafe riding, and their endangering our lives and others.

We saw a sign on the road today that said "Same Road, Same Rules," with a picture of cars and bikes. But I think signs like that just goad them into riding even more impolitely and dangerously.

Jerry and I tend to avoid the Golden Gate Bridge to steer clear of the majority of the rental bike riders. We have had some close calls with them and so we tend to join rides at the north parking lot. But there's really no way to avoid the FKV on a beautiful fall day.

Jerry and I will never ride as fast as those riders. Hell, we don't ride as fast as many of the cyclists we train with. We have our own tandem pace which is slow up hill and fast down, though we try to stay safe on our descents. I've got no problem with people riding as fast as they can safely ride, but it doesn't help any of us when they block vehicles that can outrun any of us. And it surely doesn't help us when they come close to running down pedestrians in crosswalks.

So, all that being said, Jerry and I actually did have a lovely ride up to Fairfax today. The return trip for me was better than the way out because Jerry raised my seat a little. My new saddle is a lot slimmer than my old one, so raising it another quarter inch helped. The saddle is leather and very slippery so I found myself pushing myself up and back even after it was moved, so I might have him tip the nose a trifle up to keep me from sliding down it so much.

Next week will be a longer ride that should give me a chance to really see how the saddle is doing. Looking forward to it.

Tiburon and Pumpkin Muffins

It was a beautiful day, perfect for riding, so Jerry and I loaded up the tandem and headed for the Golden Gate Bridge parking lot to join up with an ALC training ride. We waited but realized we weren't seeing any bicycles come through the lot. Seemed that the west side of the bridge was closed so we weren't going to see any of the ALC riders. We headed down the Sausalito hill and stopped at Mike's Bikes, hoping to run into one of the training ride leaders. We weren't sure what direction they were doing the loop, so we thought we'd wait to find out.

Turns out they weren't actually doing the whole loop and took a route we normally don't take. So the ride was a good bit shorter than we thought it was going to be. Glad we parked at the bridge instead of Mike's. The Sausalito hill was going to be our only real climb of the day.

The ride was very pleasant, though short, and we joined up with riders at Shark's Deli in Tiburon. The odd thing was, we did not know any of the riders. One of the ride leaders was supposed to be our friend Angelo, but he had to back out last minute. It was kind of strange not knowing one single person in the group, but it also means there are new riders and that's a good sign.

I brought some pumpkin cupcakes I had baked for the annual cul de sac Halloween dinner and wait for the kids to come and trick or treat. They were cute, but I think my toffee bars have gone over better in the past. Live and learn. I had bought Halloween cupcake liners and wanted to use them, and thought pumpkin cup cakes would be just the thing.

I actually like them a lot. They are really pumpkin bread I made into cupcakes. Once, quite by accident I left out the eggs when I was making them so they were vegan (the recipe uses oil) and they were quite good. I haven't repeated the no egg method; I'm too afraid it was a fluke. But the pumpkin cupcake/bread is full of walnuts and to me, very satisfying.

After the stop at Shark's we headed onto the loop but took the Trestle Glen shortcut. The entire ride was only about 30 miles, but a pleasant 30 miles. We averaged close to 14 miles per hour, but I think that's due to not many hills.

In some ways, I feel as if our training is going backwards. We seem to be doing shorter, rather than longer, rides. But in reality that's our choice and we can do longer rides if so inspired.

The World AIDS Day 29-mile ride is coming up at the end of the month, and while that's a short ride, it's an important one. I'm working with the Positive Pedalers to see if we can get some media attention for it. And I'll continue to work with them because 2010 is their 15th anniversary. A big deal and I hope I can tell their story to as many people as possible.

European Chamois Butter and Beer

I was getting low on Chamois Butter, so while at Sports Basement the other day I thought I'd pick some up. There was the usual tube, but then I saw a container with a screw top lid and it was Chamois Butter, but said it was European style. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I really liked the idea of using a jar rather than a tube. I have two partial tubes of Chamois Butter right now but it's so darned hard to get the last bits out, I thought I'd try something new.

And try I did. Today was the AIDS Lifecycle kick-off ride and I was actually trying lots of new things. Today would be my first ride on my new saddle-- a Selle An Atomica. I was trying new bottoms-- Sugoi knickers in this case that came highly recommended. I initially thought that I shouldn't try out the new knickers and saddle together. After all, if I felt great, how would I know which was working.

But have no fear, it didn't matter. Had I read the label, I would have discovered that "European Style" Chamois Butter has menthol in it. Yes, MENTHOL. The first little rub brought back memories of using Dr. Bronner's soap in the 70s. It might be good for a lot of things, but not on private parts.

The same can be said for this Chamois Butter. That "cooling sensation" made the lips of my vagina feel as if they were on fire. And of course, I had spread some on my chamois as well, so it wasn't coming off easily. I rubbed and wiped, but to no avail.

So I spent today's ride from the Presidio and around Tiburon Loop feeling as if someone had decided to build a campfire in my crotch. Delightful, eh?

But in reality, I think the saddle helped. Since there is a large cut-out right below my private parts, the pressure was less than it would have been so the pain could have been even worse. This new saddle looks a whole lot like an old Brooks saddle with a big old slot in it. No padding, but I don't really think padding helps that much.

For much of the ride I did manage to keep my mind off the pain and enjoy the pedaling and scenery. It was a lovely day for a ride and though Jerry and I had not ridden in a couple of weeks, once we got warmed up we enjoyed ourselves and pedaled somewhat effortlessly.

Back at Sports Basement, there was an array of junk food, soda and beer. I'm not a real big soda fan and while I drink maybe three beers a year, it seemed more appealing than a sweet Coke. I popped the top off of a Sierra Nevada and I admit, it tasted pretty good. I accompanied it with a couple pieces of cheese and way too many potato chips. My standard joke is that I ride for potato chips, and today, it seemed to be true. But after a couple of handfuls in combination with the beer I felt bloated and overfull. Not sure which was to blame-- the beer or the chips-- but I think I'll lay off both for a while.

I chatted with my friend Beau, who is co-president of the Positive Pedalers. This is their 15th year and my hope is to get some really great press for them because they deserve it. I can confidently say that the Pos Peds have saved lives. Being diagnosed HIV positive is not only a physical challenge, but it can be devastating emotionally. The support and encouragement these men and women give each other cannot be overestimated. While they may not have saved my life, they have changed it dramatically. More people need to hear their message of hope and confidence. I will do whatever I can to help them do that.

Fault Lines and Smoked Salmon

I didn't actually ride fault lines this weekend, but 60 riders participated in Seismic Challenge, a ride that crosses four, I think, fault lines around the Bay area. The ride is a two-day 200 or so mile ride with some lovely vistas and challenging climbs.

Jerry and I joined the Positive Pedalers at the rest stop they were staffing-- Rest Stop 3, in Petaluma. The rest stop was in the yard of a tiny school that looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie. We set up, cut up oranges and bananas and arranged other snacks, including potato chips, Clif Bars and the ALC favorite, peanut butter and jelly on graham crackers. And we waited.

And we waited some more. Beau and I drove into downtown Petaluma and went to Peets to get some coffee and we ran into a couple more people we knew who were putting up road signs for the ride.

Beau bought us all coffee and we headed back to the rest stop, but even in the few minutes we had, Beau and I had a good talk. I feel he is one of my closest friends, even though I don't see him that often. But when I do, I can really tell him anything and he listens and always has a good response. It was wonderful to spend a little time with him today.

Bob, one of the other staffers, brought his dog, Brodie. a little Scottie. He had enough energy for all of us, chasing balls and playing a one-dog game of tether ball. He was adorable and Beau had such a good time playing with him. Beau's wonderful dog, Henry Earl, died a few months ago and he misses him terribly, but I understand he is not ready to get another dog. But I hope Beau decides, sometime, to bring another dog home because it would be a blessing for both of them.

The riders finally arrived looking like they'd been through a war. The day was kind of chilly, they had already ridden quite a few miles with lots of them into a headwind. They snacked, they stretched and some hung out for a while, not looking forward to the climb out of the rest stop. But with any luck, they would be getting some tail winds down the road.

The Seismic Challenge is another fundraiser for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, but in reality, I doubt it raised much money. In its second year, it actually had fewer riders than in its first year. Perhaps it's the economy, but I'm not sure how they went about recruiting riders. I was disappointed that they hadn't tried to tie it into the 20th anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake. I wonder if they will do another Seismic Challenge. The AIDS ride is really the best known AIDS-related event, and I do believe they are diluting the brand by doing another cycling event. They have also added at least one marathon, and I think a triathalon, but I think they are viewing fundraising events like these too narrowly. Time to think outside the serious athletic realm and get creative. By doing these athletic events all they are doing is drawing people away from the premiere event and I think it's a mistake. But that's just my opinion and if I'm wrong and they are raising a ton of money through these events I'm thrilled. There is no better cause.

After we broke down the rest stop, Jerry and I didn't really feel like going home, so we stopped in at Rest Stop 4 in San Anselmo. They were grooving to an 80s theme, and Annette, one of the staffers, looked like she stepped right out of Flashdance. We hung out a little then headed to downtown San Anselmo.

After strolling a bit, we stopped in at a cafe we frequently cycle by. Usually, there are a gaggle of cyclists out front, drinking coffee, but this being around 4:30, there were only two bikes in the rack.

We hadn't eaten much lunch, so we wanted a bite, and I wanted more coffee. Jerry got a bowl of clam chowder and I got a bagel with lox and cream cheese. Jerry's soup was full of clams and he enjoyed it. My bagel and lox came with capers, thin sliced red onion and tomato. I hadn't had that treat in quite some time and it tasted great. And the coffee was good too.

We're home now and I'm sorry to say we did not ride at all this weekend. Next weekend is the ALC kickoff ride, and I'm looking forward to getting on the tandem and trying new shorts and a new saddle.

Biketoberfest and French Fries

Today was Biketoberfest in Fairfax, and a good excuse to take a short ride and look at what the vendors had to offer.

It's so hard for me to get motivated when I'm not riding an organized ride, and Jerry and I dragged our feet getting out of the house this morning. We mostly rode the usual route through downtown San Rafael, then San Anselmo to Fairfax, although at one point we did take a little detour to ride some new back roads. Nice to look at different houses for a change.

When we rode out it was quite chilly so we had on our caps, jackets, long sleeve jerseys and pants, but it didn't take long for the sun to break through and make us wish we weren't quite so bundled up. I did take my cap off at a red light and the ventilation definitely helped.

We rode to Fairfax and the Marin Bike Coalition had bike parking, so we left our tandem in their capable hands and headed across the street.

By far, for me, the most interesting booth was Calfee. First of all, they had a tandem that weighed in at 24 pounds. A real beauty, but at $18,000 we'll stick with our CoMotion and lose weight to make up for the extra poundage.

In addition to that beauty of a tandem, they had Selle Anatomica saddles, which are basically Brooks saddles with a large slot cut into them. The guy at the booth said it's the most comfortable saddle he's ever used. It's definitely on my wish list, and we might see if we can find one used. I am still on that endless quest for the perfect saddle. They all seem to work for the first 40 miles or so, but shortly thereafter the ride turns uncomfortable, and then painful. There's got to be a fix.

We entered Sports Basement's drawing for a gift certificate, and then headed out to our favorite lunch spot-- Theresa and Johnny's Comfort Food Cafe in downtown San Rafael.

We availed ourselves of the bike rack at Mike's Bikes across the street, though we did ask permission first.

While earlier in this post I talked about losing weight, I'm sure not doing anything about it. For lunch I had scrambled eggs and French fries. Yes, French fries. At least I didn't eat the toast. The short ride we took today by no means made up for what I ate for lunch, or for the huge number of tortilla chips I ate yesterday.

You'd think admitting this on the Internet would help me change my ways, but so far, it's not working. I think other things in my life need to change before my eating habits improve, and I'll leave it at that.

Tailwinds, Levi and Paella

Up before the crack of dawn yesterday to head to Santa Rosa for the Gran Fondo, a ride sponsored by Levi Leipheimer, which raised funds for a couple of groups, including animal rescue.

We had signed up for this ride months ago, and at times it almost became an afterthought, but our Road IDs arrived this week and the ride became more real. I hadn't realized there would be 3500 riders, so we drove to Santa Rosa with at least a bit of trepidation, wondering what a mass start of that size would look like.

We arrived early enough for me to exchange the meal tickets-- they gave us the wrong ones-- and wander around a bit. Ran into some friends, and the next thing you know, it was time to climb on the bike.

And wait. And wait some more. They released the riders slowly, which certainly was a good idea. Although I think perhaps they did it backwards. They had the self-identified slow riders in the back. I know at least one person who had to be swept because he lost time waiting to be released. But I kind of get why they had to do that. The fast riders would have steamrollered over the slow ones. There's probably a solution, but since this was the first year of this ride, there's time to work out the kinks.

Jerry and I pushed off about 45 minutes or so after the "start," but we were not doing the 100 mile ride, just the 62 mile ride, so we knew we'd be fine.

It did seem kind of funny having lots of folks lining the first couple miles of the route to cheer us on. After all, it was just a day's ride, not a week long ride to LA, and while we were raising money, there didn't seem to be anything monumental about the whole thing. But I suppose it's good that the Santa Rosa folks were excited by the ride. I'm sure we caused much havoc on plenty of people's Saturday routines, since there were road closures and cops stationed along the route waving us through stop signs and red lights.

It was a sunny, chilly day in Sonoma, and Jerry and I wore our ALC jackets and we were glad to have them. There was also quite a bit of wind, sometimes making the pedaling difficult.

But the most difficult pedaling came at Coleman Valley Road. We had never ridden that particular stretch of Hell, and until I'm strong and am not coming off of being sick, I don't want to ride it again too soon.I neglected to mention I was pretty sick on Friday and had gotten dehydrated. I decided I would see how I felt Saturday morning. If I still felt crummy, I was going to send Jerry to Santa Rosa on his Bianchi. In many ways it was good that I went. His Bianchi does not have the gears to climb the worst hill we've ever rode. Or walked part of.

Yes, for the first time ever, we walked part of a hill. Never on White's Hill. Never on Quadbuster. But we walked perhaps a couple hundred yards of Coleman Valley. It was just too steep for the tandem. And we certainly weren't alone. There were some riders who appeared to walk the entire hill.

Occasionally, a tail wind would appear and give us a little boost. That was a godsend and we only hoped for more. They were few and far between but oh so welcome when they arrived.

After the worst part of the climb there was still some more climbing, and by then the winds had shifted and we had more cross wind than we would have liked, But we persevered and kept riding while others walked.

Once that was over it was smooth sailing until we hit a gravel path. I figure they took us off roads because the good citizens of Santa Rosa could only take a morning of bicycles taking over their town, but the gravel path was hideous. By then our butts were incredibly sore and the bouncing on the gravel surface made those few miles unbearable. So glad when we got back on pavement.

Shortly after, we arrived at the finish line and could dismount. There was a long line at bike parking, so we decided to risk leaving our bike unattended with no ill consequences.

Then, meal tickets in hand, we headed over to the supper tent. We had three choices: Mexican, Italian and Paella. The Italian seemed too generic, Mexican risky on a recently ravaged gastro system, so we went with the paella. Definitely a good choice. It was fairly bland, which normally I'd complain about, but it was like a big plate of comfort food. There was no sausage, which was fine with me, and the rice was incredibly comforting and filling. We had a coupon for a free beer, which I gladly handed over to a tablemate. We had sparkling lemonade to complete the meal. Just fine by me.

We did a little walking around the festival, visiting with one dog up for adoption and a bunch of bike-related booths. But after just a little while we knew it was time to head home.

Back at the house, we forced ourselves to stay up until almost 9 pm, but justified the early to bed time by remembering we had been up at 5:30 am and had ridden the hardest hill we had ever ridden. Next year on the AIDS ride, Quadbuster will look like a piece of cake. With no chocolate frosting.

Wild Salmon and a Birthday Ride

This was a nonstop weekend, but what better way to celebrate my birthday.

Celebrating began on Friday with the out of town guests pre-wedding dinner at Thom and Jeff's. Though they couldn't make it legal, my friends decided to go ahead and affirm their love and commitment to each other and they enlisted Jerry and me to prepare dinner the night before their wedding.

A couple of weeks ago, Thom and I got together to discuss the menu, and we decided on things that he and Jeff would like, but would be easy buffet food.

This is how the menu ended up:
Cold poached salmon with sour cream dill sauce
spanakopita triangles
cold pasta with pesto and artichoke hearts
roasted asparagus
roasted potatoes
toffee and butterscotch bars

Everything came out beautifully and Thom's friends were pleased and impressed. Jerry and I really worked well together to make this a great meal. I did the spanakopita triangles earlier and froze them unbaked, and made the toffee bars a couple of days ahead. We bought gorgeous wild salmon fillets that morning.

The trickiest part of the whole meal was transferring these beautiful, large salmon fillets to a platter without breaking them. We had three spatulas, and as gently as we could, we slid the salmon over. We were successful, mostly. One fillet got slightly damaged, but we pieced it back together pretty well.

On Saturday, Thom and Jeff got married at the Cliff House. As we rode across the Golden Gate Bridge into the city, we could see the fog lifting and knew they would have a perfect day.

The wedding was on a patio that overlooked the ocean. The weather was perfect, the guys looked handsome in their matching linen suits and their mothers sat together, proud of their sons.

Friends of theirs sang their song, "Happy Together." I'd forgotten what a great song that is. In addition, another friend, who is a professional singer sang a couple of songs and there were readings. Thom and Jeff exchanged leis and rings. They are both known for being prolific tweeters and Facebook posters, and while they didn't do any posting during the ceremony, the officiant encouraged the attendees to "tweet away," and several did.

The ceremony was followed by lunch. There were three choices, and Jerry and I had salmon, again. It was quite good, though if I may toot my own horn, I thought the salmon I made was moister and more flavorful. The herbed potenta that accompanied the salmon was very nice-- on the soft side and the accompanying vegetables were also okay. Not great, but okay.

Since Thom and Jeff are very into the 50s and Tiki Bars, the cake and decorations reflected the theme. It was a fun, joyful atmosphere. Jerry and I opted to steer clear of the fruity drinks, but I must admit we overindulged in the red wine. Not enough to get drunk, but more than we'd usually drink on a Saturday afternoon.

We felt the overindulgence only slightly on our ride today. Today was the AIDS Lifecycle thank you ride. For the second year running, it has fallen on my birthday, and I like to think of it as my birthday party. We did a short ride to Mill Valley, then headed back to Crissy Field for a barbecue. It was great to see old friends and talk to some new riders.

Jerry felt a little bonky going up Sausalito Hill, but we still made very good time. Not bad for a couple of old farts who drank too much wind and didn't eat dinner the day before.

Tonight, to finish the celebration, we're going to a movie and will have one of our favorite dinners-- popcorn.

A Discombobulated Ride. And Ice Cream

Yesterday's 60 mile ride was, well, how shall we say, a little odd. Not that the ride was odd, but what happened even before we started kind of set the tone for the day.

This was a Seismic Challenge training ride. Deyon, who is a great leader, was in charge, and she and another ride leader took us through the route, exercises and the safety speech. Just as we were finishing, two riders showed up, clearly not ready to ride. They were too late to be "official," but that didn't stop them from getting Deyon to help them change a tire, and basically, get their bikes ready to ride. Now mind you, Seismic Challenge is in just a couple of weeks, and by now, these riders really should know how to change a tire.

Deyon, being who she is, stayed behind to get them ready to ride, despite them not really being officially on the ride due to their tardiness.

The rest of us rode out on the usual route to Fairfax. I'm happy to say that for the first time in weeks, I didn't get lightheaded and a little nauseated on the way up Camino Alto. It only proves that my head was ruling my sweat glands and stomach. We rode up at a pretty good pace and got to Fairfax and headed to Fat Angel for a bathroom and muffin break.

At Fairfax, Mary, another TRL reported that one of the tardy riders had almost crashed, and she wasn't sure if he was going to continue, and she was going to go back to see what was going on.

Turns out they didn't continue, but this was only part of the story. The troubled rider was riding very erratically, almost crashed, and on top of it all, he had a radio strapped to his handlebars and had it on. All very big no-nos for an official ride, and pretty much a no-no in general, particularly for a guy who is not a very good rider.

Deyon finally caught up to us and we continued on to Nicasio. White's Hill had its usual difficulties. We did make one stop to rest our behinds but got up it at a pretty good clip. We sailed down the other side hitting a top speed just over 40 mph. We do fly down those hills! I really dreaded climbing Nicasio Valley Road, but that, too was more mind than matter. It has its moments, but it really wasn't that bad. After a short Portapotty break at Rancho Nicasio, we headed to Pt. Reyes Station.

With the Underachiever Rider no longer with us, this leg of the ride was pretty good. We all got to Pt. Reyes at around the same time and had a nice lunch under some trees. We climbed back on the bikes to head back.

Temperatures had climbed significantly during the ride, so I did get a little concerned. I tend not to sweat very much and I can get really overheated, but many of my sweat glands seemed to be cooperating and did okay.

The route back takes us through Samuel Taylor Park, and the entrance is easy to miss, as is the turn to head to the park. If you go straight, you end up at Stinson Beach. Which is exactly what one rider, Dinesh, did. This caused Deyon more angst and kept her on her IPhone more than she would have liked. But she did get hold of Dinesh and he figured out how to get back to Sausalito.

I don't know the Stinson route, but one thing Dinesh missed was Olema Hill. Not a steep climb but a very loooong one. It did seem to go on forever and when we finally finished it, we got to do some coasting, which felt great.

When we got to Fairfax, Jerry and I both had sore bottoms and decided we needed a break. There's a little ice cream shop that makes a handful of flavors and they had two of my favorites-- coffee and rum raisin. It brought back some very old memories of my days in Helena, Montana. When they first started carrying Haagen Daz it was a big deal, and I'd buy two containers-- one coffee, one rum raising and would manage to finish them both in a matter of days. Fortunately I didn't do that too often.

We sat on a bench and I ate my coffee and rum raisin and Jerry had a dish of cookies and cream. Other riders went ahead because they were going to stop at Peets.

Ice cream finished, we got back on the tandem and headed back. The last climb, Camino Alto was more uncomfortable than difficult. Once again, I'm having saddle issues. I had hoped the Selle San Marino was the answer, but I think I'm going to go back to the Specialized Jett.

When we got back, we saw on the sign out sheet that Dinesh had returned, along with a couple of other riders. I'm sure Deyon was relieved to see Dinesh's signature on the sheet when she returned as well.

At home I took a tepid shower, then hit the quads with a roller to try to break up the lactic acid. I really felt my quads working on this ride.

Jerry whipped up a large pot of beans and rice with some chicken sausage tossed in. A good after ride recovery meal, I think, though it's an area I want to do more research in.

Next week is a very short ride and I'm kind of looking forward to fewer miles.

Birds, Cows and Spanakopita

A couple times a year, our friend John Hershey sponsors a ride that leaves from his and Ted's house in Bodega Bay, with a mandatory stop at Wildflour Bakery. After the ride, there is a potluck at his house.

And it seems that no matter when he schedules this ride, it rains, and this past Sunday was no exception. Jerry and I cut the ride short, so didn't get caught in the downpour that some of the other riders experienced. We skipped the big climb that even without rain, I wasn't up for doing.

The ride was short but nice. Jerry and I continue to pick up speed on the tandem. The ride had lots of rolling hills, some steeper than others, with a very steep climb right before returning to John's. It really took our average speed down, but we still did pretty well for a couple of old geezers on a tandem.

Ted was glad to see us return a little early because he wasn't sure if it was time to take the spanakopita I had made out of the oven. I looked at it, and indeed it was at the perfect golden brown it should be, and out it came. I had put the dish together the day before and froze it. It was part of a spanakopita triangle frenzy I was working on. I am catering the out of town guest dinner for friends who are getting married on Sept. 26 and I made about 100 spanakopita triangles to serve at that Friday night dinner. I plan to have cold poached salmon with dill sauce, marinated green beans, pasta and pesto and I'm not quite sure what else at this point. But knowing how long the spanakopita can take, I wanted to get it out of the way and frozen. With that done, the rest won't take long.

The potluck at John's was lovely. Lots of good food and great people. John had put his photos from this past year's ALC ride on a disk with music, and we watched that while we ate. He and Ted had two house guests and they made two lovely gallettes-- one with pears and one with plums. The crust was a pate sucre that was delicious-- almost like a butter cookie. I need to make one soon. I want to try one without peeling pears. I figure if I slice than thinly, leaving the peel on should work. We'll see. I really hate to peel fruit. I love the texture the peel gives, and I feel it's such a waste to not leave it on.

After the potluck we headed to Jerry's sister's house. His mom and her husband were there and we had a light dinner. That was fine, because we had certainly eaten enough at John's.

Jerry came home and we went out to lunch today, to a new place in the little shopping center near our home that houses Trader Joe's. The place, Cafe Trio, occupies a spot that has seen a succession of failed restaurants. I think part of it is location, though there is a Pasta Pomodoro at one end that seems to do fine. This nice little place is run by a Palestinian and Yemini, and their influence is seen on the menu. I had a wonderful asparagus lemon soup and felafel. The felafel is worth commenting on: it was cooked really nicely, not too long, which can sometimes result in the little garbanzo balls turning into hockey pucks. Also, the sauce was a light mint yogurt, with a dollop of hummus on the plate itself. So often, the sauce on a felafel can soak through the pita, making it difficult and messy to eat. That was definitely not the case. It was delicious and reasonably priced, and to top it all off, the coffee was very good. I think Jerry and I will be returning.

I just started working a few hours a week at Sur La Table, a cooking supply store. I have to wait to see if I am scheduled for Sunday. If I'm not, Jerry and I will be riding once again to Pt. Reyes. If I'm scheduled to work, he'll make the trip out there on his single, and he'll get to ride with the Big Boys.

Fruit Cobbler and Bees in Pt. Reyes

Yesterday, Jerry and I joined a small group of riders for the longest ride we have taken in some time. We did a 60-miler from Mike's Bikes in Sausalito out to Pt. Reyes. Beau, a Pos Ped, had organized the ride, and last minute he got eight cancellations, but six of us rode out and it was a great little group.

For some reason, for the last couple of times we have climbed Camino Alto, around half way up I start getting queasy. I think it's just nerves and anticipation of something much worse than it is. I never get these feeling when climbing tougher hills; I think it's because it comes right at the beginning of a ride, I'm not warmed up and again, the anticipation is worse than the reality.

But once we were sailing down the other side, all was right with the world and we pedaled on. After a brief stop in Fairfax to share a muffin with Jerry, we tackled White's Hill. We were slow but steady and it felt just fine.

We were doing the counter-clockwise route to Pt. Reyes, which is my favorite way to go. For some reason, I hate climbing Nicasio Valley Road right after White's Hill, and counter-clockwise takes us through Lagunitas and through Samuel Taylor Park, with its magic bike path. I swear, that path is downhill no matter which way you are going. I love it. I also love the beautiful trees and greenery that surrounds you as you ride that path. On a hot day it is welcome, and on a lovely, breezy day like yesterday, it was simply beautiful to look at.

After the park, we headed up Olema Hill. We hadn't ridden up that hill in a couple of years, and while it was no picnic, without the construction of a couple of years ago, it wasn't bad at all. From there Pt. Reyes Station was just around the corner.

Secret plans were in the work at Pt. Reyes Station. Grady, another Pos Ped who was supposed to join us yesterday but was running a fever, had ordered a fruit cobbler in celebration of Beau's birthday, which was Saturday. Shawn and Mark sneaked off to Cowgirl Creamery to pick it up. They had even gotten "gay" (rainbow) candles. Though it was too windy to light them, Beau, happily surprised, pretended to blow them out, and we dug in. The cobbler was huge, but we managed to devour almost the whole thing. We shared it with some other cyclists who were perched on the ledge with us, eating lunch.

The cobbler was delicious. Very simple, with a few late summer fruits-- berries and pears mostly-- in a very light sauce not overly sugared. The streusel on top was also not overly sweet and we all appreciated its crunch. It was just the way a cobbler should be.

There was no question I didn't need a second helping, but I had one anyway and was sorry once we rode out. Too much food in my stomach coupled with bike riding is not a happy combo for me.

We stopped at the local park which has rest rooms and for the first time, there were actually separate lines for the boys and girls. Usually, people just get in one line, and since the bathrooms are all single-seaters, the next in line just takes whatever is available. A couple of the guys I was riding with told me to get in line with them, but I felt that with all those other women waiting, it just wouldn't be fair, and I dutifully waited my turn in the longer line. I should have listened to the guys, because while I stood in the longer line a yellow jacket must have thought my calf looked delicious and he came for a little snack, and decided he should sting me before he left. It's been years since I've had a bee sting and I've forgotten they can really hurt! With no ice to numb the pain I just had to be stoic.

I'm convinced riding after a bee sting is good therapy. I figure that all that motion gets the blood, and in turn, the toxin, moving, so it's not concentrated in that one spot. Today it itches like crazy, but it's not really swollen, and it's just a tiny red dot.

The last 10 miles or so Jerry and I were riding with spaghetti legs. We were really worn out. Not bonky in the least, just muscle-tired and overworked. The last climb up Camino Alto seemed like it took forever, but once we were coasting down the other side we knew we were almost home. Getting off the saddle at Mike's never felt so good. My new Selle San Marco saddle is doing a pretty good job, but I'm convinced that no saddle, no matter how good, really does a good job after around 40 miles.

Next weekend is a 30-mile ride and a potluck afterwards. Sounds very good indeed.

Hot Ride and Cold Dinner

Since it was predicted to be hot yesterday, Jerry and I carted the tandem up to Nicasio and took off from there to Pt. Reyes. But even up in the usually cool and breezy West Marin, the temperatures soared. We rode only 20 miles, and while our average speed was good (no real hills to speak of) it was a painful ride because of the heat.

Jerry doesn't suffer from the heat as much as I do, so I would periodically ask, "the next time you spot some shade, stop." We'd rest for a minute just so I could get my body temperature down a degree or two. I also discovered what a good insulator my Camelbak is. Ice I had put in it hours earlier had not melted, so I needed to add water to it. My biggest problem is, I don't sweat very much. The only two places I seem to perspire appreciably are my scalp and under my boobs. No underarm sweat, and certainly none on my extremities, thus, no cooling evaporation to lower my body temperature. While some folks would consider no sweating an asset, I look at it as a major cycling hindrance. Going to have to do some research to see if I there is anything I can do to rectify the situation.

When we got home, we took tepid showers, and then I hit the kitchen to prepare a cool dinner. Beau, Grady and Buz were coming to dinner before a party, and since it was still quite warm, I thought a cool dinner would be just the thing.

But that didn't stop me from heating up the kitchen to prepare stuff. I baked bread, which had the oven set at 450, and I sauteed chicken breasts and boiled pasta for pesto. But once everything was cooked, it went into the refrigerator. I also made a salad of tomatoes, basil and fresh mozzarella, topped with balsamic vinegar and a little olive oil.

It was great to have the guys over. I'm really close to Beau, and I hadn't seen him in ages. We talked a little bit about strategies for doing some publicity for the Positive Pedalers' 15th anniversary, and I'll follow up with him later to develop a plan. This group, HIV positive riders and roadies on ALC, are really the face of the AIDS ride, and their cause is perhaps the most important to me.

But back to dinner. For dessert, I took a carrot cake out of the freezer. I had made two a few weeks back. The interesting thing about this recipe is that it uses olive oil, resulting in a light, not too sweet cake. I really like it. I accompanied it with lemon sorbet I made two days ago. It was really delicious and for me, hit the spot with its tartness and coldness.

After cleaning up, we met up with the guys at a fundraiser, birthday party held my two of the Seismic Challenge riders. Seismic Challenge is a mini-AIDS ride: a two-day 200 mile ride in the Bay area that is a fundraiser for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. Saw lots of friends, but didn't stay long. I felt that despite the heat, I was ready for a good night's sleep.

Today is much cooler, but no plans to heat up the kitchen. We've got way too many leftovers to think about cooking for the next day or two.

Peanut Butter and Jelly Legs

Jerry and I took a little ride this morning. We left from our house-- an unusual occurrence, rode through the Canal, onto the freeway for one exit, and around China Camp. It was only 16 miles, but I really felt it.

Not sure what the cause was, but we did put a new seat on the tandem this morning. A Selle San Marco that is supposed to be wonderful. I'm willing to give it some more time, but we raised it a bit and I was still feeling sore in my you know where parts and my shoulders. It might need some more adjusting, though I'm not convinced that a seat exists that will make me comfortable.

Around five miles from home I felt like I had really run out of steam. I had two pieces of toast with peanut butter and jelly, so there's no reason I would have run out of fuel, but the last couple of climbs-- and they are not very big climbs-- felt really difficult.

It was also a coldish, clammy day. I was wearing new-to-me Sugoi long bike pants and a new-to-me yellow and black long-sleeved, fairly heavy weight Pearl Izumi jersey. I'm proud to say the total cost for both was around 10 bucks. I do love Goodwill! Both looked as if they'd never been worn, though I did throw them in the wash before I wore them.

After the ride when I was stripping off my bike gear, it was obvious from my sports bra that I had sweat! This is a big deal for me and made me extremely happy. Sometimes, even on the hottest days, I barely perspire. I think there's something a little wacky about my internal thermostat. It almost caused heat stroke on a hot ride to Petaluma. So I was more than pleased to see the wet spots on my bra.

Sharing my joy, I hopped in the shower with Jerry, who was already lathering up. We made sure all our parts were squeaky clean, then I got out so he could shave.

I believe the answer for me, to increase my stamina, is cross training. I have a Pilates dvd I should find and use.

What I will be doing the rest of the day is baking two loaves of bread and roasting a chicken for dinner. I made a batch of pesto the other day, and I'm thinking of pesto mashed potatoes, or more simply, throwing it on some orzo as a side dish. We've got lovely cherry tomatoes, and I thought I'd cut them in half, toss them with balsamic vinegar and maybe some garlic, as a side.

Did I Earn that Turkey Reuben?

Probably not. The eating is still dominating the riding. and something's got to change.

Yesterday, Jerry and I rode for the first time in probably a month. We started at Mike's Bikes in Sausalito and rode out to Lagunitas. We intersected a Seismic Challenge ride, and chatted with that small group at the Coffee Roastery in Fairfax. They had only about six riders. Not much of a showing considering their ride is coming up in October.

Our average speed was down a bit, but in general, we did pretty well. The first climb, up Camino Alto, was actually welcome. It was really cold out and even a little drizzly, so raising the body temperature felt pretty good. As we headed north it got more sunny and a little warmer-- that was welcome as well.

The climb up White's Hill felt pretty draggy. Neither of us was anywhere close to our peak. I pushed hard, trying to get some of that quad strength back. It felt like a long slog and the descent on the other side was glorious, particularly when we took time to coast and stand a bit to relieve our seats and other chafing parts.

Speaking of chafing parts, while my Specialized Jett seat is pretty good, I have one more in waiting to try. Can't recall the make, but it's a pricey women's seat that I got on Freecycle. While I know there is no perfect seat, I'm looking forward to trying out this one. I use chamois butter and that helps up to a point, but I really am striving for more comfort.

After the descent, we stopped at the market in Lagunitas and split a small container of tabouli. While the food is good, I'm generally getting a bit fed up with the Lagunitas market when it comes to their bathroom. The latest is, it's locked and is not available to the public. What gives? We go there and spend money and after riding and hydrating, I need a rest room!

But I think I've found an alternative to the Lagunitas Market. A new cafe has opened in the little strip mall next door. The woman there was happy to let me use her rest room even though I hadn't purchased anything, and next time, we're going to stop there for lunch or a snack. While it's true you can't buy Gatorade there, you can get a snack and yes, they have a lovely rest room and I filled my Camelbak there. I'm sure if I had asked her for ice she would have been happy to oblige. So between the Nuun tablets in the trunk of the tandem and the sink in the rest room and what looks like a very nice menu, we are set. I recommend it to other cyclists who are looking for a change. And "facilities."

Jerry and I both realize we are out of shape and need to work on it. Since we are both grossly underemployed we've got time, so we are going to ride on Wednesday, after he gets back from visiting his Dad in SoCal. Jerry left this morning on Air Mooney, our little four-seater that's hangared at the Petaluma Airport.

I considered going, but have enough around here to do to keep my pretty busy. One thing I want to investigate is a new espresso chocolate cookie. The ones I made at Balkan Camp were not to my liking-- not that I tasted them. But the way they look and spread was not acceptable to me. I think it was one of those recipes that on a small scale is fine, but when you go to make more than 300 of them, something doesn't work well. I also want to get a quart of pure lemon juice-- not that "realemon" crap, and experiment with lemon-thyme sorbet. Lisa had some when we went out to lunch when we were back east, and I'm anxious to give it a try.

Whaddayamean, no peanuts???

So Jerry and I flew back to the bay area today. We were so ready to be home. We got up at what was the equivalent of 3 am California time. Knowing there would be no "real" food on the plane, I raided Len and Lisa's refrigerator so I could fix us peanut butter and jelly on bagels.

No sooner are we seated than we hear an announcement that someone on the flight is allergic to peanuts, so anyone who has nut products with them-- you're out of luck. So, we had Doritos munch mix and persevered. We ate our bagels as we waited for our luggage.

This was an interesting trip for me. Interesting is part euphemism, part, I can't think of the word for how I really feel about it, mostly because I feel so differently about different aspects of the trip.

I am now pretty sure I don't want to move back east. I really hate summers there, and on a more difficult note, I'm not really sure I have a home there any more. True, I own a condo in Baltimore, but I'm just not sure the area means to me what, at least in my mind, it has meant for many years.

That being said, there are some people there I truly love and wish I saw more of. But perhaps those stretches of time between seeing people has really changed my relationships with them. I'm going to give this a little more time to percolate, but right now, I'm just not all that sure where home is.

My time baking for 300 hungry Balkan music and dance students and teachers generally went pretty well, though in the heat it felt more tiring this year. At least once I skipped lunch just so I could get horizontal for a while before returning to the kitchen. But most of the desserts were quite successful. No failures, but nothing much new either. And one of the new desserts-- a blueberry cobbler with a biscuit top was far more work than what it yielded, in addition to it not making enough, despite producing 12 hotel pans' worth. If I do go back next year, I'd like to come up with some new desserts that challenge me and delight the recipients.

This year's recipes, as usual, were heavy on chocolate. If people don't get chocolate at least once a day, they threaten to riot. So, I made brownies, blondies with chocolate chips, chocolate espresso cookies, chocolate peanut-butter fudge, chocolate chip cookies and a few other things I'm forgetting. Non-chocolate desserts included my favorite ginger cookies, almond crescents and apple crisp.

My consistent help in the kitchen was Barbara, a camper who volunteers most afternoons for a couple of hours. I've known Barbara since we were kids, so it's fun to talk and also wonderful to have someone who knows what she was doing.

The kitchen was full of kids who come from other places for summer jobs, the majority being from Turkey, with a few from South American and one from Hungary thrown in. They were enthusiastic, hard working, and the Turks and the Hungarian were thrilled to hear music from home.

Now I'm home with a kitty on my lap, and so glad to be here. I'll figure out the future another time.

Eating and talking about riding

Last night was "bridge" at Loretta and Tony's house. There actually was a hand or two of bridge played by a few people, but mostly it was a wonderful excuse to get together, eat great food, drink great wine and talk to friends.

Tony is Italian and he loves to cook. We started with several very good Italian red wines and some good cheeses. Dinner started with a lovely soup full of vegetables and grains. It had basil in it, but the underlying hint of rosemary made it really special. We then had a delicate poached cod, corn and a salad full of colorful peppers and tomatoes. Dessert was ice cream and blueberries. The coffee, though decaf, was full bodied and strong.

Grey, who I haven't known all that long, lives with my friend Leslie. He likes to bike just about as much as he likes small-brewery beers. It was great to have someone to talk about the Tour with. We're both interested to see what kind of team Lance builds. He was more forgiving of Contador than I was, and he made some good points. I worked hard to talk him into coming out for a visit. Leslie said we could all go cycling and she'd stay home and pet the cats.

My friend Arna is in town as well, and she'll join us for dinner tonight at Janet's. Janet runs the kitchen at Balkan Camp and we'll talk menu and particularly, what I'll be baking. We usually do a little bit of shuffling at this point to make sure my work flow goes well, while also making sure the desserts work well with that particular dinner. This will be the last evening I'll see Arna. She heads back north to her daughter's in Cambridge, and then she heads back to Norway. She's been here all summer, and while she has loved seeing friends and her new grand daughter, there really is no place like home and sleeping in one's own bed.

Today, once I get my act together, I'm going to do a little second hand store shopping, and maybe make some ice cream to take to Janet's tonight.

Flying, but Always Thinking About Riding

Last night, I flew JetBlue from Oakland to Dulles. The flight was delayed taking off about an hour, but I really didn't mind that much. It just meant the flight would get in at around 7 am, instead of 6.

I dosed myself with Benadryl and miracle of miracles, I slept for a solid four hours. My two seatmates were in awe and were envious. The plane had not one empty seat, so that made it even more of a miracle that I slept so well. I brought a little pillow with me and had a window seat. I think those were the two deciding factors. Having a comfy perch for my head made all the difference.

When I woke up at around 6 am, the young man in the middle seat told me of his admiration, and jealousy. He said he'd look over at me periodically, and wished he were the one sleeping so soundly. We both talked about how we were not all that fond of the travel part of traveling, though we both loved to go places. He then mentioned how he had recently driven to LA from Oakland, and kind of enjoyed it. That was my entree into saying how I hated driving to LA but loved riding my bike there. His eyes got wide and the talk moved to ALC.

Talk about someone who was intrigued, I have a feeling I may see this young dreadlocked man on either training rides, or maybe as a roadie on next year's ride. The thought of raising $3,000 seemed a bit intimidating, but I assured him, no matter how he became a part of ALC, he was in for the experience of a lifetime, and that no matter how many times one participates, the thrill never dissipates. I didn't get contact information to follow up, but my hope is, he will do that on his own.

So, now, I am comfortably ensconced at Len and Lisa's house in Silver Spring. Lisa is home sick today. She wasn't feeling all that well last night, and needed to catch up on sleep today. I too, caught up on even more sleep, and then she made us quesadillas for lunch. Lisa is now on the computer, caching up on work emails. Lisa works for Search for Common Ground, an amazing NGO that has offices all over the world promoting peaceful dialogue and interaction. She's just back from a recent trip to their offices in Morocco and Guinea, to help them with offices practices== filing, record keeping and the like. Those things sound so mundane to an organisation like "Search," but is honestly the backbone to keep them going and successful. People like Lisa are the unsung heroes of NGOs.

Alas, I won't be riding for the next couple of weeks, but the ride is never far from me. I hope to finally finish up all my thank-you notes for my donations from this year's ride, and have brought all my ALC t-shirts with the hopes of striking up conversation about the importance of what we do when we ride from San Francisco to LA.

A Week of Sausage and China Camp

I ate sausage three times this week. One chicken and two pork. That's three more times than I usually eat sausage in a month and about a gazillion more times than I ever eat pork of any kind.

What possessed me? Well, the sandwich special at Theresa and Johnny's Comfort Food Cafe sounded too good to pass up. Crumbled spicy sausage, a couple different kinds of greens, mushrooms, a smattering of good parmigiana on an Italian roll. The second time I ordered it I got smart and cut it in half and had the second part for dinner.

Does this mean my eating habits are changing? I don't think so, and I certainly hope not. I'm normally a chicken and fish-atarian. Other than skim milk in my cappuccino and some occasional feta in my salad I don't eat much in the way of dairy, and I'm heavy on the fruit and vegetables. And, oh yes, bread. If it were nutritionally sound I could live on good bread, olive oil and red wine. But it isn't so I don't.

But it was an odd week, I suppose. I made a really wonderful pasta sauce with crumbled chicken sausage, lots of onion and garlic, oregano, tomatoes, and a bit of red wine. Cooked it slow and easy for a good while and it was delicious.

Jerry had some leftover pasta with sauce for breakfast yesterday so he wouldn't bonk on our 45-mile ride that meandered around our neighborhood and out to Fairfax. A small group started at Mike's Bikes in Sausalito. We rode through San Rafael, around China Camp and then out to Fairfax and back. We were both in not great moods (so what else is new?) and the ride made us feel much better. A little of the strength I had seen waning last week returned yesterday. We're still dragging up hills, but we are starting really fly on the flats, and, of course, on the downhills. As I've thought before, the only thing that's going to help us on climbs in losing weight. And eating sausage isn't going to do much for that.

But yesterday, I didn't really overeat, though I'm not sure what is is they put on movie-theater popcorn, even with no butter added. Why does it taste so good? I'm sure it's full of some sort of hideous artificial flavoring full of calories and carcinogens. And it's what I had for dinner.

With our friends Sha and Lora, we saw (500) Days of Summer last night. It was my kind of movie, quirky, sweet, with a bit of an edge. Not a profound movie, but fun and not entirely predictable, though perhaps partially so. But that's not altogether bad.

After the movie we went to Aroma cafe and I had a ginger biscotti (or would that be biscotto?) and yet another cappuccino.

Today, maybe a little ride on our singles and more coffee and the Sunday Times crossword puzzle.

Tough riding; Too Much Eating

Though the scale hasn't changed, I am feeling really blobby lately. Could it be all those fresh blueberries. Probably not, but it could be the homemade ice cream beneath those fresh blueberries. And that tuna melt I needed after having a really crummy day.

By and large, I eat a very healthy diet, but of late I know I have been eating a bit too much of those healthy foods. Life, and the stuff that goes with it, has not been all that cheery, so to make up for that, I seek comfort in comfort foods. I haven't gotten out the blow torch to make the top of macaroni and cheese crisp yet, but believe me, I've been thinking about it. I haven't said no to fries at lunch, though I split the order with Jerry and we always have fruit at Comfort Food Cafe. But we've been eating too much cheese and I haven't resisted the tortilla chips (albeit with no salt) at Trader Joe's.

Something's got to change. We rode out of the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge yesterday and headed up to Woodacre Market, just the other side of White's Hill. The ride there was not too bad, though I was far more short of breath than I can remember being in a long time. I blame part of that on "that damn trike." (Its official name.) I never got winded on the trike because I didn't use my whole body to ride. Just my legs, pumping and pumping and pumping. Back on the upright, I'm getting a much better workout, which is great, but I'm feeling it.

And Jerry and I were both feeling it on the way back to the bridge. Though I felt as if I had eaten enough, I really felt like I was bonking at a couple of points. I also ran out of water, which didn't help, though I did still have some Nuun solution in my bottle. I ate some dried fruit and nuts and we kept going. But neither of us was our perky selves. I partially blamed it for not having done a real ride in two weeks. But there's more to it. Other than cycling once a week, I'm doing not much more than sitting at a computer all week. The little jaunts around the neighborhood on a half bike don't count.

So time for a change. I love my new ice cream maker and I love ice cream, so I'm going to look for recipes that are lower in fat and calories. And on warm days I'm going to hit the pool. I'm not much of a swimmer, but it's something. And gotta work that core.

I'll start baking with more chocolate and giving it away as well. I love to bake too much to give it up.

Confidence and Ice Cream

The How to Ride a Bike class I took from REI on Saturday did wonders for my confidence, if not my riding.

They started the class by taking the pedals off our bikes and lowering the seat. We duck walked around a loop at the Corte Madera DMV, then slalomed in and out of mini traffic cones. They took us around front and we coasted down a small incline and learned to slow our selves down feathering our brakes.

After I'm not sure how many times going down that incline, I was able to do it without touching the ground, propelling myself about halfway back up on the other side. I was ready for pedals.

The pedals went on and we made rode a small circuit; our seats still low and our concentration as steadfast as a neurosurgeon's. Finally, the seat was lifted in increments and I knew I was ready for the incline.

For the next-- oh I don't know-- maybe hour, I rode around the parking lot, gaining speed and confidence as I went. I felt great.

When Jerry got home from his ride to Lagunitas, I couldn't wait to share my excitement. We decided that on Sunday we'd ride around the neighborhood.

We crawled into bed fairly early and watched the film of the stage version of Rent. It was so wonderful, but trying not to cry too hard gave me a headache. That show will never cease to make me cry.

Sunday started with going out to brunch at Comfort Food Cafe and a trip to the Goodwill, where I got a Krups ice cream maker. I don't think it had ever been used. Thought it was a pretty good $9 investment. I made ice cream with it today and while it probably costs more to make ice cream at home, who cares! It was fun.

But back to yesterday. When we got home, Jerry and I took our bikes out for a little jaunt around the neighborhood. He said he could see a real difference in my skill and confidence. I didn't start out so slowly that I was in danger of falling over, and I kept up my speed. I even signaled for turns and for slowing down. I still have a ways to go, but at least now I feel that I'm on my way.

Yesterday was Jerry's birthday and we went to Katia's Russian Tea Room in the City. It was our first time there and I think we'll return. Jerry loved his pelmeni and my blini were very good. When the server heard it was Jerry's birthday my espresso was free and Jerry got poured another glass of wine. Needless to say, I drove home.

So right now, homemade vanilla ice cream is in the freezer getting firmer, and there is aged gouda I bought as a birthday treat for Jerry. That, and a bottle of Cabernet Franc is on the counter. I think I know what's for dinner.

Fear, Trepidation and Fruit

Tomorrow I get on a single bike for the first time in more than a year. I am taking a How to Ride a Bike Class at REI in Corte Madera. Intellectually, and probably physically, I know how to ride a bike. So what is keeping me from riding? Mostly fear.

I took a bike skills class from Velogirls more than a year ago and did really well. But then I didn't get on the single for more than a week and all the fear and unsteadiness came right back.

It's been two years since I crashed, but it's still fresh, somehow. I ended up at Marin General with stitches and a damaged cranial nerve that left me seeing double for six months. I have no idea what happened. I don't remember being put in an ambulance and taken to the Emergency Department. I don't remember giving them Jerry's cell number. I don't remember being taken to a room. The first thing I remember is seeing Jerry hovering over me, asking me if I was okay.

So, yes, I'm scared. But I rode a bike when I was a kid, and when I lived in Montana, I took hail storm money and bought a really great Trek. We had a killer hail storm in 1980, or maybe 81. My little Honda looked like someone had gone beserk with a ballpeen hammer. I got insurance money, paid off some bills and plopped down $400 for a really great bike. That was a lot of money for a bike in 1980. But it was a great bike. I rode all over Helena, and then when I moved to Missoula to go back to school, I didn't get a parking permit for campus. I either rode my bike, or if there was too much snow or ice, I walked.

It's true I was younger than, but in reality I wasn't a kid. So why is riding a bike so scary now? Besides the crash, it's becoming accustomed to being a stoker on a tandem. All I have to do is pedal. I look around, side to side. I don't have to steer; I don't have to shift gears; I just pedal. It's mindless. I joke and say Jerry's the brains and I'm the brawn. He, in reality is both, but I kick in as much as I can. And I love it. But it would be great to get out there on a single every now and then, if for no other reason than to see what I can do on my own.

Along with cycling on my mind, so is the abundance of wonderful fruit this season brings. I have yet to overdose on strawberries, blueberries and cherries, though it seems I have been eating them nonstop. I bought a large container of blueberries the other day, thinking I would bake a gallette or pie with them. But I'm enjoying them so much just as they are. I can always bake a blueberry something with frozen ones after the season is over. For now, I just want to enjoy their unadulterated goodness.

Fairfax, Tiburon Loop and Meat Loaf

Seismic Challenge is beginning its training rides, and Jerry and I have been riding with them. Today we did a 45-mile ride-- first out to Fairfax, and then Tiburon Loop on the way back.

The quads are still strong and our speed is still up, though we started to drag on the way back. We lost a lot of our zip on Sausalito Hill. Jerry jokes that we should have kept the trike to ride a month before AIDS Lifecycle. It did get us in great shape.

I hope the couple that bought it really enjoys it. I, for one, was not sorry to see it go.

But, as far as today's ride went, it was great to do, but we were both happy when it was over. It did tire us out. At our stop in Tiburon, I wasn't really hungry, but I had a Luna Bar. That being said, when I got home, I was ready to eat.

I had made a turkey meatloaf the other day, so I had leftovers for lunch. To the turkey, I added an egg, garlic some matzoh meal and some pinjur, which is similar to ajvar. It gave the meatloaf some zip. I heated the leftovers in the microwave and wrapped it in a tortilla. I had some tortilla chips with it, and I ate too many. There wasn't enough to save but I really ate too many. I'm feeling it now.

I hope Jerry and I can keep riding at least once a week. Our quads are strong and I'd like to keep them that way.

Mill Valley and Guacamole

Today, we once again rode to Mill Valley, but this time we started from Sports Basement. We rode the Seismic Challenge Kick-Off Training Ride, even though we are not going to be riding Seismic Challenge. The thought of asking friends to donate money again, just on the heels of AIDS Lifecycle is unthinkable.

Seismic Challenge is a two-day, 100 mile a day ride tracing fault lines. It looks like a fun ride, but I don't see it in our future. But, their training rides will be every weekend, so it's a chance for Jerry and me to ride with an organized group.

Today's ride was not very long, but it did have some climbing, so it was a good way to see how Jerry's shoulder would do going up hills. And I'm happy to report his shoulder, and the rest of us, did great. We rode faster than we generally ride. I think this is due to the incredible workout our quads got on the trike. We are strong, and I really hope we stay that way. I think if we continue to ride at least once a week, we'll be in the best shape ever.

At the end of the ride there was a burrito, guacamole and salsa lunch back at Sports Basement. Jerry had started to get hungry just as we were climbing the Sausalito hills, so it was definitely a welcome site. We had a nice lunch, visited with friends then headed home.

The ride today did so much to raise our spirits. Both Jerry and I had hard weeks, and cycling cleared our minds, got our endorphins flowing and made all those troubles float away.

A Ride, A Wedding and Beets

I know a lot of people don't like beets, and I really think that's a shame. They are beautiful, they are good for you and I think they are delicious.

They played a part in a wedding buffet I worked on this weekend. I got called last minute by a caterer I met recently who asked if I could help out with a wedding on Saturday. The wedding was at Dunsmuir Estate in Oakland, in the carriage house. It had been pushed up a year because the bride's mother was recently diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer and had gone down quickly. They weren't even sure she'd make the wedding, but she was there, albeit in a wheelchair.

The buffet was all cold foods, most of it prepped ahead of time. Three of us were there to basically, assemble. Not the most creative job in the world, but still fun. I diced tomatoes and onions and arranged trays.

The beets were part of a green bean vinaigrette. I think I detected sesame oil in the dressing. Besides the beets, the beans were dressed with goat cheese. A pretty successful dish, I'd say.

The main dishes were beef, chicken and salmon. The salmon had a corn relish, which was not really to my liking, but the chicken had a nice dressing with capers. The beef had an onion and mushroom sauce, but I can't really comment on that because I don't eat beef.

Earlier Saturday, Jerry took our first ride since his crash on our Co-Motion tandem. It was a little-bitty ride-- just around 10 miles from Sausalito to Mill Valley. But it felt great. Jerry's arm and shoulder ached a bit, so I was glad we did a short ride. He has yet to make a physical therapy appointment, and I have been nagging him a bit about that. But I think in weeks to come he will get stronger and our rides will get longer. I can't wait.

Post-Partum De(com)pression

The ride has been over now for more than a week, but its spirit is still dancing around inside of me.

I haven't had any work to speak of since I've been back, so it's given me lots of time to reflect and think about what to do next.

With the economy the way it is, and with California's budget in crisis, it's clear funding for organizations that do HIV/AIDS prevention and education services, as well as those that provide direct services to people with HIV/AIDS, are going to take big hits. So, I'm starting to think about creative ways to raise more money for next year.

It's ironic, because, of course, everyone has less money, so it makes it all the harder to raise. But I'm not about to roll over and give up. While I have the time, I'm going to research and try to come up with new ideas. We don't have our rider numbers yet-- we won't have them until sometime this fall-- but as soon as we do, I'll get a page up and start the ball rolling.

I've also started on my thank-you notes to send to my donors. It's really hard to express in a couple of sentences, without sounding overly dramatic, how important those donations are. There are so many good causes out there, but somehow I've attached myself to this one, and I think my friends realize how important it is to me, and for that I'm grateful.

Also, while I have the time, I'm going to do a little experimenting in the kitchen. Friends have asked me to cook for the dinner they are having for out of town guests the day before they get married, so I'm going to play around with some recipes. They are not expecting a huge crowd for that dinner-- maybe 20 or 30-- so it should be relatively easy, but I want to make it very special. Thom and Jeff are very special people, and they deserve nothing less.

Tonight, I'm going to make beans and rice with chicken sausage for dinner. Not exactly a low-cal meal, but it's healthy and certainly better than grazing on snack food. We do that way too much and we're trying to turn over a new leaf. If we can each lose 15 pounds in the next year, it will make cycling up steep hills so much easier.

The End of the Road

Day Seven

While the Ride for me is almost a spiritual event, this year I was actually looking forward to it being over. Though I knew I would miss the community, the not-the-real-worldness, I knew I really wanted to get off that trike.

It's ironic, because in some ways, the trike is easier to ride. No sore butt, never having to stop on hills, and oddly enough, easier to park; that's because, when we'd pull into a rest stop, the roadie at the entrance would look at it, look at us and invariably say, "put that thing anywhere you want."

But I hated its weight, its slowness, its ungainliness. Perhaps when Jerry and I are octogenarians we might want a trike to tool around, but for now, as soon as Jerry is ready, we are climbing back on the Co-Motion.

We discussed that today, and we decided the best way to make the ride even better, would be for us to lose weight. We're seriously investigating Weight Watchers. While we can get stronger, the easiest way for us to climb hills better is to get lighter.

But back to Day Seven.

As usual, we were up early and hit the road somewhere around 7 am. Our plan was to get moving and get close to the ride finish and stop for lunch.

Much of the last day is spent riding on the Coast Highway. The ocean is beautiful, but most of the time Jerry and I are on the lookout for car doors, surfboards and cars making u-turns to zip into a parking space. It's a pretty stressful ride.

We stopped at the lunch spot to use the Port-a-Potties, but ultimately got trapped there. There were not one, but two bike accidents on PCH, so we were held until helicopters could land and take the cyclists to medical facilities. That ruled out lunch elsewhere, so we collected our sack lunches and parked ourselves on a bench. The lunch stop was on a ball field, so we were behind a fence. Our friend Duncan joined us. We ate, we chatted and waited to be freed.

Finally, we were allowed to continue. We got to the Va Center, with the road lined with well-wishers, cheering our arrival. Rather than taking our bike to the corral to wait for closing ceremonies, we took it straight to shipping. We had decided to skip closing ceremonies this year. We had to catch a shuttle by 5, but we thought that we might even be able to get on an earlier flight.

After we dropped off the bike, we went and picked up our "victory" shirts. We were deciding what colors we wanted this year, but discovered, due to budget constraints, all the shirts were white. Then, we discovered the typo on the back. The website reads: aids lifeycycle. If it was the printer's fault, I hope they get the shirts for free, or at least for a substantial discount, and I hope they lay claim to that website!

Shirts in hand, we headed to the gear trucks, and then to the shuttles. We caught a shuttle pretty quickly, and arrived at LAX much earlier than our flight. Southwest wanted to charge us an exorbitant amount to change flights, so, we headed to the Food Court instead.

The Food Court quickly turned into an ALC reunion. There was quite a crowd of us there. We drank cappucinos, beers, and I even had a lemon drop, graciously bestowed on me by a rider I didn't even know.

When we finally got on our flight, there was a host of white victory shirts. Our friend John Hershey sat with us, which made the flight home wonderful.

We got home that night to yowling kitties and a real bed.

Despite what I have said about this not being the ALC of my dreams, Jerry and I are signed up for next year. To rejigger a cliche-- the worst week on ALC is closer to Utopia than the best week anywhere else.

And there still is no cure for AIDS, there are horrendous budget cuts coming to AIDS programs, so we'll keep riding and doing whatever we can until there's a cure.

I want my HIV positive friends to die of old age.

I See Red People

Day Five

The famous "Red Dress Day." A sea of red. A sea of glitter, platform shoes with cleats, tutus, men with dresses, men with skirts, men with boobs and hairy chests. A gloriously spectacularly photogenic day.

Jerry and I were kind of toned down this year. No tutus on the recumbent, and Jerry didn't want to wear his spangly top because the spangles would dig into his back. He did wear a skirt, and we both wore fishnets and elbow length red opera gloves with the fingers cut out. The fishnets stood out nicely over our black legwarmers. But otherwise, we were pretty invisible.

The route changed this year, so it was 20 miles longer and a lot hillier. Wouldn't have been a big deal on another year, but on the trike, as always those hills were time killers.

Also, we did not go through Casmalia, a town that generally has a barbecue fundraiser and we dance in the street. The combo of the additional hilly miles and no dancing in the street made this, for me, not the Red Dress Day of my dreams. My understanding is, it was Casmalia's decision not to have us. I heard a couple of version as to why, and perhaps none is true. I heard they had a new principal at the school and he didn't want all those homos in his town; I also heard that school was still in session so the principal didn't want an event to disrupt the school day. Whatever the reason, I really missed Casmalia.

So, instead of dancing in the streets in Casmalia, we dined under a tent on a dusty field in Solvang. Nope. Not the same.

The afternoon was long, although we did get back to camp at a decent time. This year, perhaps there were more shower trucks, but I never had to wait in line more than five or 10 minutes for a shower. That was a real plus. But as the week went on I became more and more tired of my long hair, counting the days to get home and cut off about a foot. I can still put it in a ponytail, but it's so so much easier to deal with... But I digress.

So while Red Dress Day was fun and some people preferred the route, I heard more grumbling than not about the longer length and more hills, and no chance for a lot of stuff strutting as there always was in Casmalia.

So, as usual, we got back to camp, showered, had dinner and retired early. Except this was the first night in many years it rained, and many people woke to find most of their possessions floating on

Day Six

We were on a fairly thick air mattress, so we stayed dry and our suitcases are water tight, so we did pretty well, But our bedding was wet, or mattress was wet, and the tent was definitely soggy.

What to do, what to do, when we began to stir at a little before 5 am. The rain was coming down fairly steadily, easing up a bit, then coming down a little heavier. Jerry and I realized all 2100 riders couldn't possibly be sagged, plus we were riding the Behemoth, a very difficult cycle to move. So we got up, put on our bike clothes and headed to breakfast. One of our wheels was out of true, so it was at Bike Tech and it had not been covered with the thin ponchos we had been using. They were still in the trike's trunk, which was actually fortunate. We put them on, and at about 7:30, we rode out.

As we left, we noticed a lot of tents were still up, and we weren't exactly sure what the day would bring. But we soldiered on.

After riding around 10 miles, Robert, one of ALC's biggest cheerleaders, drove by in his truck, pulled over and waved at us. We stopped, and he told us that there had been a big accident (cars, not bikes), the route was closing and we should head back to camp.

By now the rain had almost stopped. We had, as usual, climbed some big hills, but we took it easy riding down them as the roads were still pretty slick. And the rain must have washed up a lot of debris, because we, along with probably 30 or 40 other cyclists that day, got a flat. We had a spare tire and tube with us, and Jerry, my hero, changed the flat.

The roadies and staff who figured out the logistics of transporting 2100 riders, their bikes and 500 roadies did an amazing job. As we waited for buses, our lunch was delivered, our bikes were loaded on gear trucks and hauled to the next campsite. Considering nothing like this had ever happened before, it was nothing short of a miracle.

And while the rain stopped and the sun came out, no one faulted staff for deciding not to let us ride. We only had to think back to Day One, when it was misting and roads were wet. There were several accidents, and one very serious one. David is still as SF General and we are all praying for his recovery. We just heard that while he still cannot speak nor is he fully conscious, he can respond to some commands. That is very very good news.

What we were sorry to miss was Paradise Pit in Santa Barbara. Volunteers serve us ice cream, have massage tables set up and last year, beside porta-potties, they even had sinks! While we didn't get ice cream, they did send home made cookies to the camp.

We got to the campsite in Ventura around 4, so we had plenty of time to dry out our mattress, sleeping bag and assorted other soggy items.

Ventura is where we have the candlelight vigil on the beach, but I decided that I was going to skip it this year. I was trying to make the ride this year much more about life, and while I realize the vigil, in memory of all of those whom we've lost to AIDS is important, I just felt like it was not where I wanted to put my focus.

Evil Twins, More Pizza and Janine

Day Four has a couple of highlights, both positive and negative. It is the day of the Evil Twins, two back-to=back hills, the halfway point, and a very long sweeping descent.

Again, the hills were not hard, just long and tedious. We cranked and cranked and cranked until we got up them.

Then to the halfway point. This is a pull-off on the left side of the road, where people climb a pile of rocks, hold their bikes above their head above a sign. At one point we thought it might be fun to get a half dozen folks to hoist our trike, but decided that we'd forgo the halfway point and sail down the hill.

And sail we did. We swooped past everyone as we rolled down the decline. The road was not nearly as twisty and turny as what we have experienced in the bay area, so no worries about leaning into turns, and very little braking. I didn't check the cyclometer, but I'm sure we approached 50 mph at times.

We continued the ride until we were a couple of miles from the lunch stop, and we decided though we had had pizza the night before, can anyone really get too much pizza? So we stopped at the same pizza place as we had last year. There were riders already there, and a few more trickled in as we ate.

But I suppose I discovered you CAN have too much pizza and spent the rest of the afternoon with a bit of an upset stomach. I have what Jerry calls "the dotted line." I'll try not to get too graphic. But basically, if too much goes in, or goes above the "dotted line" some of it has got to come out. And it did in fits and starts as we rolled down the road. Not the most pleasant thing, but I made every effort to make sure no one was too close behind us.

Because of the way I was feeling, we also skipped the Cinnamon Bun stop in Pismo Beach. So we got to our next climb a little sooner. Agony hill, Pismo Bitch... it goes by many names. It is not that long, but it is ridiculously steep. Cyclists were falling over because they were riding so slow. It was almost too steep to walk; besides, there was no shoulder. But once again, the trike made it up. We cranked and cranked and cranked some more. My quads and calves were screaming at me, but we made it.

Oh, and this was also the day I was not Carol. I was Janine. Seems that the daily newsletter, the Daily Spin, had an article about a pair of tandem riders, Clark and Janine. We hadn't seen it, since we had princessed, but we heard all about it. While the article was all about them, the photo that accompanied it was a picture of Jerry and me from last year. Not wanting to miss such an opportunity, I went to the medical tent at Rest Stop 1, got a piece of tape and a pen, and changed our license plate for the day so that it read "Jerry and Janine." The next day I went back to Carol. Had I seen it and known, I would have changed Jerry's name to Clark. The folks who told us about it couldn't remember his name.

Potato Chips, Oatmeal and Flat Tires, Continued

I would be remiss if for my Day Two post I did not mention the Ugly Mug in Soquel. Every year, they give free coffee and tea to the riders. Jerry and I had never stopped, but this year we were on the road early enough for there not to be a crowd. I had three cups of their wonderful French Roast, which is part of why the day, until the dreaded flat, was going so well. Thank you, Ugly Mug!!!

Day Three

Oh, the more time from the ride, the harder it is to remember. But what I do remember is, that Day 3 is relatively short. It is the day of Quadbuster, the infamous hill that in reality, is a chance to get your photo taken by Brian Hodes. Brian is a cyclist, but on this ride he uses his skills as a professional photographer. He shot God knows how many thousands of photos on the ride. He then sells them with the profits going to ALC. I worked with Brian on World AIDS Day, helping him with publicity, particularly for his 24-hour bike ride. Yup, that's the kind of guy he is.

For us, Quadbuster was long and tedious, but on the trike, immensely doable, just as all the hills are. We are heavy, slow and we work our quads to their limits, but we truly can do any hill. And we "did" Quadbuster. Robert-- anyone who does the ride knows Robert-- pushed us a little near the top, and it was fun to get above two miles an hour for a couple of seconds.

The other side of Quadbuster is not that steep, so we sailed down without braking much. Much of the day is not very difficult, so we were back to camp fairly early. A real treat in many ways, because this was the night on the ride we were staying in a hotel, otherwise known as princessing. We were staying at the Hotel Adelaide, which was walking distance from the ALC Camp. We grabbed what we needed for the next day so we didn't have to lug our suitcases and hoofed it over to the Adelaide.

The Adelaide was the sister hotel to the Best Western next door. It was small and very pleasant. Jerry and I brought swimwear and headed to the hot tub. The trike was really doing a number on our legs, and the swirling hot water felt wonderful. We relaxed a while, then headed back to the room, got naked and ordered in pizza.

Pizza never tasted so good. There was a small refrigerator in the room, so we stashed the leftovers for breakfast.

The best part of the hotel experience, beside not having to schlep our gear and set up a tent, was not having to use a headlamp to get to the bathroom. I think I got up three times that night. Peeing was never so luxurious.

We got up at our usual 5 am, threw on our bike clothes and headed out. There was a Starbucks next door to the hotel, and I joined the line with all the other princesses and got myself a giganto cappuccino. Or whatever Starbucks calls it. Why do they have those ridiculous names. Starbucks; get over yourself. Starbucks is never my favorite coffee, but it tasted great that morning.

Time for

Day Four

The Week of Potato Chips Part II

Before I have to start organizing for a trip to Boston, leaving later today, I thought I'd try to jot down some more notes and memories, before they become even more of a blur. In any case, I'll probably get days and events confused as it is.

But back to Day I

Being slow, Jerry and I got into camp a good bit later than others. The good part about that is being able to see the Tent Grid take shape. It's always fun coming into camp on that first day and seeing the Tent City, along with the myriad other service tents-- medicine, massage, chiro, Camp Store, Media, Pos Peds. It really is a moving city. The Roadies who get that built are nothing short of Iron Men and Women. Cheryl, who I met when I spoke at a fundraiser for her and her husband Lee, was on my Gear Truck, Truck F. They hung a blow-up monkey on the truck and gave us monkey bracelets. The monkey was cute and it really did make finding the gear truck easier. Several roadies on our truck were female. More power to them, and I mean that in both the literal and figurative sense!

Our bags weighed just under 50 pounds, but I heard from other roadies that there were people who went over the 70 pound limit. I had a hard enough time with our bags; I can't imagine hoisting those 70-plus pound bags onto the truck. I think weight limits and perhaps even sanctions for overweight bags needs to be considered.

Anyway, we got back to camp, showered and had dinner. I sign up for vegetarian, and I'm generally glad I do. There isn't that much red meat during the week, but for those few occasions it's a safer bet. Plus, the vegetarian food on the ride is really good. Even dreaded lunch, which is day after day of sandwiches, is a little better. This year at lunch vegetarian options included hummus, rice and bean wrap and tabouli and feta wrap. They only served the mozzarella and basil sandwich once, and yes, the dreaded peanut butter on walnut bread was back. I love peanut butter, but I really do NOT like that sandwich.

Bedtime on the first night, and generally every night was about 8:30. It was a bit odd going to sleep before it was totally dark, but not all that difficult, especially since we were getting up at around 4:45. Since we were riding slowly, we wanted to hit the route by 6:30, and on most days we made our schedule.

After we set up our tent the next step was setting up the Maryland flag. The flag served a couple of purposes. First-- it draws the Marylanders to us, and on occasion, I even get to talk Bawlmer. But the most important reason is the ease in which it allowed us to find our tent. After dinner-- there was our flag flying above our tent, and even better, there it was after those 3 am port-a-potty trips. Our neighbors loved it as well.

Day Two

Day Two is the longest day on the ride, so we were up bright and early and ready to tackle the more than 100 miles. In reality, Day Two isn't anywhere near the most difficult day. A lot of it is flat, rolling through fields of strawberries that smell heavenly.

We rode well and felt really great until... we had a flat. And not just any flat. The gravel on the side of the road-- we tended to ride way to the right so others could pass--- really ate up our tire, so it wasn't just the tube that needed replacing. We tried to put a "boot" in the tire, but to no avail. We did have a spare, but it was back at camp. So, for our very first time, and at about 60 miles, we had to get sagged back to camp.

We tried to look at it philosophically. We didn't give out; our bike did. The most interesting and difficult part of it all was how the roadies were going to get the trike back to camp. Ultimately, they loaded it on the large truck on TOP of the other bikes that were padded with blankets. It took a crew of them to hoist the behemoth up there. Again, we were so grateful to those roadies for taking care of us.

Back at camp, Jerry put a new tire on the bike and figured out a way to hook a spare tire onto the trike-- I know I alternate between calling the machine a bike and a trike. It really is a trike, but my fingers almost automatically type bike. Old habits die hard. Forgive me. We looked a little like Grapes of Wrath with the tired on the back of our trike, but fortunately, we didn't need it until Day 6, but that's another story, which I promise I'll tell later.