I refuse to say “Power Bar”… it makes me think of that chalky crap bar they sling.
Via Bitchin Camaro (a new one for me).

These bars are AMAZING, plain and simple. I know Elvis wasn’t a health nut, but if he rode brevets (or ran marathons), this would be his bar. I’m sure he would have one of his chefs whip it together. Me, I have to dig out the cookware myself. It is a rough life.

I tried out a couple of different recipes with success, including these bars from Grit and Glimmer. They were very good as well (especially the medjool dates), but these are just outstanding. I have a love for the peanut butter and banana combo though, so I may be biased.

One thing you want to keep in mind with both of these recipes, it really helps to spend some time chopping the nuts with a knife. I could never get the “pound out with a roller” technique to give me very consistent sizes. It seemed like they were either smashed to a fine powder or completely whole. As soon as I switched over to a good, sharp chefs knife, everything kind of fell into line on that front.

Some of the ingredients might cost a bit up front (brown rice syrup, specifically), but you will have plenty left over for another round of awesomeness. For what it’s worth, I omitted the vanilla and don’t think I lost too much. I had the agave nectar on hand, but I’m definitely going to try a batch with some honey next time.

As always, the bulk section is your friend on this. PCC has an amazing spice and grain bulk section that you should hit up. I personally don’t need a whole bottle of ground cardamom sitting around collecting dust. Just pick up what you need for a few cents.

I’ve been completely ruined by a stomach flu for the past few days. I first noticed it on Saturday morning before my ride and chalked it up to nerves or maybe dinner the night before. Midway through the pre-ride though, my body was starting to shut down. Every time I’ve eaten since Saturday, I end up with a weird gaseous, pukey feeling that doesn’t stay too long, but makes it hard to get excited about food. Today is actually the first day that I haven’t felt it, so things are looking better already. Too much information?

Saturday morning Chris and I packed up his car and drove out to the start at the top of the tallest hill in Kent to pre-ride Greg’s wonderful Chili Feed 200K course. This was my third time on the route and I was happy to get back into the randonneuring season. The first time I rode it was my first 200K ever, and the second I set my fastest 200K pace so far. There are plenty of memories on this route, and it appears that I now have more to add to that.

Somehow I messed up navigation to the start so we were really close to being late, but just snuck in on time. I had to pull up my knee warmers on the road. There were an astonishing number of riders for a pre-ride (close to 20) and everyone was a pleasure to ride with.

Everyone stuck together for the most part leading in to Dash Point. A couple of the more serious climbs split us up, but the faster of the bunch couldn’t resist the siren call of coffee at the first control.

Most of the day seemed to work like this (from what I heard/saw). The super fast riders shot out front and towed a few of the relatively fast riders, maybe dumping a few here and there. They would converge on a control and bunch back up like a slinky, only to do it all over again to the next stop.

I got snapped off that slinky in Auburn at 5 or maybe 9 terrible back to back stop lights with a couple of other riders. I lost my rhythm pretty quick, but I knew I just had to keep my own pace for a bit. I didn’t want to cramp up like I had the Sunday prior, and I could feel some of the tenderness from that ride in the back of my legs still. That was fine, except I couldn’t quite keep up with the other two I was riding with, so I ended up in kind of a no man’s land (riding solo) for a while.

Going down Green River Valley, the route stuck me dead in the middle of an official time trial race. I had to slow down so I wouldn’t hit a woman turning around to finish her race. It was really surreal to ride down the road and have these super loud carbon bikes (disc wheels and all) whip by you like you were standing still. The really crazy part was actually crossing the finish line though. People were in folding chairs, waiting for loved ones and snapping photos. I’m sure they saw my bright orange, handle-bagged bike and just shook their heads. What a waste of a digital photo.

I made it to Black Diamond Bakery with one thing on my mind – DONUTS. I bought two donuts and a chocolate milk for $2.50. That place is a steal! Amazingly, everyone else was still there. They were wrapping things up, but it was good to know that I wasn’t that slow. I crammed a donut down and chugged my chocolate milk so I could get back on the road with the group.

Within 2 miles, the group had dropped me. I just really didn’t have it that day. It wasn’t a huge deal though. The sun was out and it was turning into an outstanding day. I found myself in between the lead (main) group and a bit slower group for a long, long time. I was actually really enjoying my solo ride at that point.

At one point I called Jane just to say hi. I think that I usually only contact her when I’m in some emergency situation, so I figured I should change that up a bit.

The climb from Enumclaw into Greenwater is always kind of a slog. It is a scenic one, but I always expect to see the return riders on the decent, taunting me with the fact that I still have X amount of miles to the top. None of the pitches are very steep though. If  you are feeling good, you can climb the whole thing (17 miles) quite fast. I wasn’t feeling good though. My legs were just naturally sore from the lack of distance riding and the Sunday ride prior and my stomach was starting to rumble like it has in the past.

Right before I made it in to town, Geoff and Lynn caught me on the climb and seemed to shoot by me without too much effort. I saw the lead group starting to descend at around that point as well. I wanted to keep the stop short, but I didn’t have it in me. I took the time to rest, hopefully settling my stomach with a Sprite and some light food. 1 million K Vincent rolled up (surprisingly) around then and had a snack and talk with us.

We all rolled out together, and I was dropped again, this time on a downhill. That is extra embarrassing for me, because there is nothing this beer gut does better than whip downhill.

My stomach never settled down though. I fought with it all day to keep everything inside. Once again, I wasn’t able to eat very much. I had the best luck with gel packets though. That is something I’ll keep in mind for the future. They tasted awful, but seemed to really help get some needed calories in me. I spent the rest of the ride basically by myself. I saw Geoff and Lynn pulled over for a flat, and they quickly passed me again after it was fixed, but that was it. I was nursing myself in.

10 miles from the finish, I kept looking at soft grass spots in the sun. They all seemed so appealing. After maybe a mile, I pulled over and flopped my bike down. I sprawled out in the sun and just laid there. It was an amazing feeling. A random bicyclist pulled up and gave me a “Dude, are you okay?”. I gave Chris a call and let him know that I was coming… just very slowly. I spent maybe 5 minutes or so there, it is hard to say really.

I figured that would be enough, but literally 2 miles from the finish, I stopped again. This time it was in front of a fire station. I flopped out again onto the lawn. My stomach felt great until I had to get back up again. I pretty much limped in to the finish. I was a pretty pathetic sight. Bob Brudvick grabbed my card for me and I bee lined to the bathroom.

Doesn’t that make you want to do this ride? It should.

Chris made this amazing drawing and I added some fonts and what not. We are thinking it would look pretty kick ass on some jean jackets. I’m not sure how that is going to work exactly…

If you really like it, I’m sure Chris would be willing to tattoo it on you permanently for a small fee.

The Friday of the ride, we are taking the train down with our bikes for a 2pm start with Joshua in Portland. We should have a couple of hours to impress the locals with our charm. I’ve heard they don’t see many bikes down there, so those will be a hit, I’m sure.

Last year I rode with a bunch of flatulent, chatty randonneurs that were sure that breakfast was in “the next town”. It wasn’t. It never was!

I have no idea how this year will shake out, but I guarantee it will be an experience. Expect all of the gruesome details (hopefully no vomit involved) sometime in April. I have a bad history with night starts, so I’m looking to correct that. Still, it wouldn’t be a rando ride if I wasn’t questioning my sanity at least one time along the way.

Special thanks to Jane and Norman for once again helping drive us back home. I’m sure they will have a crazy weekend harassing the local hippies. I expect nothing less.

I know one thing is fact, I will be eating nachos at least once when I hit the finish. Olympia Hot Dog Company, here I come!

Cliche as it seems, this dream was directly related to where my head has been at in regards to randonneuring. There has been a lot of second guessing and fear at my lack of fitness these days. Last years slacking is definitely showing this year. I haven’t finished a 200K since November and every time I get to around 50 miles, my body punishes me. The dream was appropriate though. I just need to keep at it, slow or not. The goal will be achieved.

SIR’s Spring Populaire (100K) was on Sunday. We decided to ride out to the start since it was only 10 miles away. I surprised myself by actually waking up early enough to eat a decent breakfast and have coffee. Chris and I left a little earlier than necessary but it gave us time for even more coffee near the start.

There were probably around a hundred people, possibly more at the starting line. They organized a bagpipe sendoff for the group that was pretty surreal. If I saw it on paper, I might have thought it cheesy, but in person it was pretty amazing.

There were tons of people to talk to right off the bat. It is always great to catch up with friends(at least at the start and finish) on these rides. It was a stunningly gorgeous day, especially for a Seattle February. It threatened to get close to 60 degrees and everyone was in great spirits.

I felt strong out of the gates and figured I should hang on to that while I could. I’m pretty aware that I have a limit these days, so I might as well knock out the miles while I can. I dropped Chris for a little while and hung with some faster riders than I usually do.

There was a soul crushing climb near Cougar Mountain that really seemed to suck my energy quickly. I kept eating some homemade energy bars and tried to stay hydrated. It was near the usual Zoo hill climb, but not the same one. It was less scenic and the grade was more steady and headache inducing. It would make a fine training hill.

I kept attaching on with Joe Platzner, then losing him again. His fancy blue Pegoretti kept him one step ahead of me. I’m pretty sure that’s how it worked, anyways.

Somewhere along the way, my legs started to give me grief. Surely they were complaining at the lack of distance training and overall general neglect. The muscles were pinching behind my knees and acted up every time I hit a hill (and this was quite often towards the end of the ride). I had to stop and stretch three or four times. I lost the great group of guys I was riding with, but I knew that I just had to do it at my own pace. Much like my Sisyphus dream the night before, I had to get there one pedal stroke at a time.

My general mood was greatly enhanced by the wonderful weather and amazing ride support. No matter how many times I had to stop, I knew that I was getting there.

I caught a bit of a second wind on the bike trail leading to the finish. A child on a BMX bike started a sudden 180 and almost nailed my front wheel. I briefly considered just pushing him over. Is that mean?

Finally I got in, alone, to the finish at the Dog and Pony in Renton. Beer was in need to sooth my aching muscles.

It was great to see new and old friends. A big thanks to everyone that had a hand in putting together a wonderful permanent. The cue sheet was perfect, the weather was amazing, and the turnout was great.

Pasta is one of my favorite meals, ever. I really should cut back. I blame pasta and beer directly for my pear shape and lack of a real climbing ability. That said, maybe you have a better moderation ability than I do.

This recipe would be wonderful with any pasta. The original shows orecchiette, which is wonderful, but I find can be a little pricier than others. I had my father up from San Diego, so I went a little fancier and made some homemade pasta noodles. It takes a bit more time, but I’m getting faster at it.

The original recipe also doesn’t have the meat in it, but I know that sausage and broccoli rabe are a classic Italian pairing. Feel free to omit the meat if you want to make it vegetarian.

• 1 bunch broccoli rabe (about 1 lb.)
• 4 Hot Italian sausages, casing removed
• 1⁄3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 6-8 cloves garlic, smashed with the side of your knife
  
• 3⁄4 tsp. crushed red chile flakes
• Around 1 lb. pasta of your choice
• 2 tbsp. lemon zest
• 4 oz. goat cheese

Prep the broccoli:

Get a large pot of water boiling with some kosher salt and boil the broccoli rabe for about 4 minutes, until tender. Transfer rabe to  a bowl of ice water. You are stopping the cooking process and making sure that it keeps a nice green color. Drain and pat dry on some towels. Chop the broccoli roughly into bite sized pieces.

Start sauce:

Heat 2 tbsp. oil over medium heat in a large skillet and add the Italian sausage. Break it with the back of a wooden spoon as it browns. Add the rest of the olive oil and the garlic. Cook for roughly 3 minutes to let the garlic brown and the olive oil pick up the flavors. Toss in the chile flakes and cook until fragrant, roughly 30 seconds. Add the broccoli rabe and toss until all the flavors incorporate. Remove from heat.

Cook pasta and combine:

Boil a large pot of salted water and cook your pasta as long as required for your preferred style. If you make fresh pasta, boil 3 to 4 minutes. If you have dry pasta, it usually takes 8 to 10 minutes. Once done, drain the water but save a cup of the pasta water to add to your sauce. Dump the drained pasta straight into the sauce along with some of the saved water (start with 1/4 cup) and lemon zest. Toss everything together and add more pasta water as needed.

When serving, add a few small dollops of goat cheese to each plate. A little goes a long way.