Zucchini Pizza

This summer our dinner are improvised at the level of the TV show "Who's Line is it Anyway". Sunday dinner is a good example. Brenda had set out chicken breasts for us to grill. But after getting home from the Royals game and having had popcorn and an after-game sundae (thanks to a Royals score in the 7th) we weren't all that hungry. We put the chicken back in the fridge for another time. I got out my garage-sale bread machine and got it started on making pizza dough. When Brenda came back in the house she asked, "But what are you going to put on it?". I said, "How about if I grill some onions and peppers and cut up some zucchini?" She didn't think that squash on pizza sounded very good. I thought it was a creative way to use up some of the abundance of zucchini from our garden.

I was starting to think about "Plan B" and how I could avoid making a trip to the store. After a few minutes Brenda announced that she had searched online and found a recipe for zucchini on a pizza. Being the typical male I didn't look at the recipe but proceeded with my improvisation. The rules are simple: use only what's in the fridge, pantry, or growing out in the garden. The result was a surprisingly good pizza. Here's what I did:

I followed the recipe for pizza dough that came with my bread maker, but I added a teaspoon of Italian seasoning.
I cut up green peppers and onions and cooked them until the onions carmelized.
I slice zucchini and fried it in butter until they were browned. I ground pepper on the slices as they cooked.
I spread out the dough and drizzled on olive oil. I then put on creamed cheese and sort of spread it out on the dough.
I placed the onions and peppers around the pizza and laid on the zucchini like pepperoni.
The cheese I had available was the Mexican 4-cheese blend, so I put on a good layer of that.
I then went to our herb garden and got some fresh parsley and basil. I put on a little parsley and then laid on the basil leaves to almost cover the pizza.
I baked it at 425 degrees for 20 minutes.

The result was surprisingly good. We could only eat 2 pieces. We've got leftovers for tonight.

Thoughts from 2008 Tour de France

I started following the Tour de France in 2004 when Lance Armstrong won his 6th tour in a row. It seems like such a simple thing. A bunch of bike riders see who can have the fasted overall time. The best man wins. But it is much more complex than that. I'm still learning the language and the strategy of the race. The winners of the race and the winners of each daily stage get the glory and attention. But they never get to that place by themselves. They can only reach the podium of victory through help from both their team members and their competitors.

Two days I've watched a lone rider break away from the pack within 10 miles of the finish line. He rides strong and fast and develops a commanding lead. He seems to be in position to win the stage for that day. Both times the lone rider was overtaken by riders working in a group. The instance that made the most impression on me was seeing the lone rider be eclipsed by a group of 3 competitors working together. The lone rider had to fight the wind on his own. The 3 competitors took turns in front to break the wind. The cooperated even as they competed to win the day, and they were able to go faster working together than any of them could have on their own. When they got to within 500 meters of the finish they then sprinted to the finish, and may the best man win. The lone rider finished far behind them.


The winning rider also relies on his team for support. The term used to describe the team's role is domestique, meaning "servant". They drop back to the team car and get water and food for the leader. The cars can't drive up through the pack of riders to get to the leaders so the domestiques ride up and back. The domestiques also work to break the wind and provide a "draft" for the leader. Sometimes they sacrifice themselves by breaking away from the pack and forcing other teams to expend energy to chase them. The role of leader and domestique can switch sometimes. For example, in 2005 Lance Armstrong served as a domestique for George Hincapie in some of the classic one day bike races, because they were more important to Hincapie and less important to Armstrong.

No matter who we are or what we accomplish, we should never forget that we didn't get here on our own. There have been "domestiques" all along the way who gave of themselves to make our way easier. On the other hand, we need the grace to stay quietly in the background and rejoice when those we have served get their moment to shine. It's more difficult to acknowledge the role of our opponents and critics in our success. As the writer of Hebrews says, no discipline or hardship is pleasant at the time, but both our character and our success are forged in adversity and struggle. Not many can be world-class bike racers, but all of us can learn from them. May we all have our times to stand on the winner's podium.

On a Plateau

Competitive athletes peak. Amateurs plateau. I've never peaked, but I've plateaued many times. A plateau in geology is an elevated, level piece of ground. You have to exert some effort to get there, but once you do, it's flat and easy going. A performance plateau is much the same. You expend the effort to get in shape, lose weight, eat healthy, etcetera, but after some success your subconscious tells you that you're "good enough" and you plateau. You never know how big the plateau is or how long you can stay at that level. But usually you end up going down the other side and wind up about where you started.

Sometimes accomplishing a goal can cause a plateau. I did that years ago when I set a goal to get in shape and run a marathon. I accomplished my goal and stepped onto a plateau. I kept running for several more years, but I gradually did it less and less. The plateau ended and I went back to my old, out-of-shape self.

As I said goodbye to folks I'd met on the 2008 BAK, I asked if I'd see them again next year. Many of them answered "yes". After a few days of rest, I got back on my bike and set in my mind that I'm getting myself ready for next year. I'm not taking any chances on seeing a plateau here. I'm setting a goal to participate in several other bike events as well.

Now, I just need to apply this to all the rest of my life. Hmm.

Saturday - Horton to the Missouri River

The consensus in our group was that the accommodations for the tenters were primitive enough that we were truly camping. Tent city was set up in a low-lying area below the public swimming pool. We were to use the pool's showers and toilet. (No plural for the toilet--there was only one.) After a shower and a short dip in the pool I decided I'd walk the 4 blocks to the school rather than use these facilities again. I heard reports that the toilet plugged up sometime before morning.
Horton was our lunch stop for the BAK last year. I visited a store I found last year called "The Electric City Emporium". They have an assortment of odds and ends, from tools to party supplies. I found a figurine of a turtle playing an accordion. It's perfect for a "white elephant" gift.
I met up with some of the group I met last year. They were on their way to dinner & I went with them. We found a hole in the wall cafe. It was called "The Hole in the Wall". The food was pretty good. I took a risk and ordered steak. You never know how talented the cook is. Can he cook your steak the way you ordered it? It wasn't overdone, so I was pleased. "Medium rare" usually gives the cook a wide enough target to hit.
Back at tent city the night was noisy. A band played a few blocks away, making it hard to get to sleep. At 10:30 I heard the singer say they were going to take a short break. I thought, "I've got about 15 minutes to get to sleep before they start up again." But someone must have given them the word to turn the volume down. They were much quieter in their second set.
At 4 a.m. I woke up to an owl hooting. It was a pleasant way to be awakened. I hiked to the school to shave. I found that there are no lines for the toilets and sinks at 4 a.m. When I got back to my tent I decided to sleep a little longer. We only had 28 miles to the Missouri river. I didn't need to get an early start. Suddenly a dog chorus let loose a howl like I've never heard before. It sounded like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, that is if the choir were made up of dogs. I was glad it only lasted a minute or so.
BAK provided breakfast for us: Chris Cakes. They bill themselves as "pancakes with attitude". They specialize in tossing pancakes. When I went back for seconds I merely held my plate and the woman tossed 3 pancakes from 8' away and hit my plate perfectly with each one.
The Missouri river was a flood stage so the city of Atchison said we shouldn't go to the river and dip our tires in the water. Most of the riders did it anyway. I'm sure they were worried about liability issues if someone happened to fall in. The water did look treacherous, so we were careful.
A lot of people talk to me as if they think biking across Kansas is a long, slow trip. But when I get to the end, the week went fast. I'm glad to be home, but part of me feels as if it was over too quickly. Even traveling at under 15 mph I find that there are a lot of sights I miss. As I say goodbye to folks I'm sure I'll see a lot of them next year. There will be a new roads to travel, new sights to see, and new people to meet.

Friday - Sabetha to Horton

After riding 155 miles in 2 days, I expected the 47 mile for this day to be easier. I didn't feel as if I had to push myself. There were plenty of hills, but they were manageable. Even though I took my time I still ended up at the lunch town by 10 am.
Hiawatha was our lunch stop. There was a SAG on the west side of town. I got my water bottles filled and went in search of an early lunch. It had been years since I was last in Hiawatha. I had forgotten how dreary a town it is. It seems to be a town without a soul. The business district looked bleak and utilitarian. No cafe nor restaurant was to be seen there. I found a Sonic, a Subway and Pizza Hut on the far edge of town. It was too early for Pizza Hut to be open. So I ordered a hamburger at Sonic. I figured I could take the risk because whatever I ate would be burned up before it had a chance to give my stomach fits. My usual term for Sonic burgers is "gut bomb". I later found that I missed a great cafe just down the road from the Sonic.
I had read about the Davis memorial in our route guide. John Davis built it for his wife, Sarah, who died in 1930. Eleven life-sized Italian marble statues depict the stages of John and Sarah's life. I found the memorial a very sad place. John must have loved his wife because the memorial shows his grief at losing her. But none of their statues show them in close proximity to each other. The depiction of them as a younger couple has them sitting at opposite ends of a bench. The others have them looking at each other from opposite sides of their graves. I was left wondering what they had really been like. The memorial was built before John's death. Why had he arranged their likenesses in this manner? I wished I could ask him.
After more miles of hills I had a 2-mile downhill run into the town of Robinson. Here was a main street with soul. Businesses on main street were well past their heyday, if they ever had one. I saw riders coming out of one of the buildings with "bomb pops", frozen sugar water on a stick. I went inside and saw that this was not quite a grocery store. It wasn't even quite a convenience store. There was on shelving unit running down the middle of the store and a couple of freezers and coolers against the wall. It was a place to buy milk or eggs when you ran out and didn't want to make the drive to Hiawatha or Horton. A woman was at the checkout counter "scooping" ice cream out of a square cardboard container with a fork. I stepped up and asked for an ice cream cone as well. I asked her, "How much?". She said she was asking for 50 cents but that people had been giving her a dollar. I told her I'd give her a dollar if she piled my cone high. She asked me to hold the box while she dug with the fork.
I sat on the curb and ate my ice cream. I chatted with others who had stopped and watched riders go on by. I didn't expect it and it seemed an unlikely place, but this was my moment. When I think back on BAK 2008, this is the moment I'll remember first: eating ice cream on the curb of a bucolic little town no one ever travels to. I think this is the real joy of riding the BAK, encountering these moments, however fleeting, when everything feels right with the world and you can just be in that moment and nothing else intrudes. These moments are blessings to be savored and remembered.

Thursday - Washington to Sabetha

The BAK followed Hwy 36 for much of the route this year. As we got farther east the traffic increased. That often meant hugging the 18" of asphalt to the right of the white line as traffic whizzed by a few feet away. Some drivers don't even bother to move to the far side of the lane, so you have to pay attention. This resulted in less looking at the sights unless I pulled over and stopped.
Marysville was the first town, 22 miles distant. I planned to stop there and see a few things of interest. A youth group had an ice cream sale and I stopped for a bowl. It was home made and very good. I stopped at the Pony Express museum. It was poorly done and not worth the time nor the $3. The Koester house was my next stop. The yard is a beautiful sanctuary filled with statues and featuring a fountain. The house is a Victorian style filled with period antiques and decorations. In the back, by the carriage house, I found an old bicycle. The brake worked by pulling a lever that pushed a rod down on the front tire. I saw another museum as I rode out of town, but I had 50 more miles to go and had to pass it up.
Lunch was in Seneca, another 25 miles away. The winds and hills took their toll and I started to bonk about 6 miles from town. I pulled out a ziploc bag of trail mix and ate most of it. That gave me enough energy to go on. There was pie for sale on the west edge of town. I decided to eat dessert first. Further into town a civic group had bierocks for sale. I had 2 and was still hungry. Vallentinos pizza was next door so I went to the buffet and had 4 slices of pizza, a chicken breast and mashed potatoes and gravy. I was finally satiated.
Sabetha, our overnight stop, had music and food downtown. They blocked off the streets and shuttled us from the school. Again, I ate well. I burn about 3600 calories a day, so whatever I eat is used up in a hurry. Some have said that this tour should be called "Eating Across Kansas".

Wednesday - Beloit to Washington

Our modern lifestyle insulates us from the effects of nature. My travel journal last year was filled with entries about the terrain and the wind. Driving a car, these are not big factors. But when you are self-propelled, these become front and center in your life.
We had wind in camp at Beloit. It blew dad & mom's tent hard enough to snap one of the fiberglass poles. I'm glad Jay had a backup tent. It was smaller, but we were able to keep dad & mom from having to sleep in the car. We moved the Expedition and the trailer to provide a bit of a wind break and watched as a thunderstorm skirted by off to the south.
The wind blew hard all night and was still blowing in the morning. We faced our longest day of riding: 84 miles. Our first leg went north to Jewell, so riding with a 30 mph tailwind was a breeze. I was glad to see a woman selling cinnamon rolls at the edge of town. I hadn't eaten enough breakfast so was hungry. I ate two. We turned east and everyone struggled with the wind. Our lunch stop was 65 miles out, so I made sure to stop at the SAGs and eat. I also had trail mix and jerky with me.
Lots of people SAGed in after a few miles of facing the wind and the hills. Vans and trailers stuffed with bikes passed me on the road. I realized the wind had less effect on me when late in the afternoon I was passing people. I rarely pass people. But the wind wore everyone down so they were riding slower than me.
I arrived at Washington to find a note on dad & mom's car saying that we were advised to all sleep in the gym. There were storms coming with hail and damaging winds. These were the storms that brought tornadoes to Manhattan and Chapman. Dad and mom had secured a place for us on the gym floor.
After dinner we went to the parking lot to eat the pie and dad & mom had purchased that afternoon. As we sat in our chairs enjoying the strawberry/rhubarb pie, some of the boy scout troop came with a box of pie slices, selling the leftovers from dinner. He walked up to our group and said, "Do you want to buy some pie?" We told him we already had pie. Josh told him it was strawberry/rhubarb. The boy replied, "Wow! That's a lot better than what we've got. All we have is apple and cherry." We all had a good laugh.