Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there.

Mine was great.  Got lots of love in the morning and headed out for a bike ride at about 9:30.  I was home in well under three hours, so there was plenty of day left.  My parents and sisters (two out of three) came over in the evening for dinner. 

Here's the route I took.  It's a beautiful ride, especially with all the rain we've had lately:

I have not made pizza in a long time, and I was kind of craving it tonight.  So I whipped up some dough and made a couple for dinner.

I didn't have any dough ready, and I certainly didn't have 8+ hours to let it rise.  I found a great recipe for grilled pizza dough in a book my sister gave me for my birthday.  It's fast, quick to rise, and works perfectly.  I used pizza screens, and cooked them on the upper shelf of the grill. You could probably also cook it on one side, with the burners on the other side (For indirect heat).

Cooking the pizza on the grill is a big win, because cranking up the oven to 450+ does not help keep the house cool in the summer.

We arrive at the Dairy Creek store, sprinters first, followed the stragglers, the kids, and finally the white VW van full of spare wheels, tools, and a water cooler.  The team regroups, gets some water, and Phil walks around his athletes, offering advice in his no-holds-barred way.  If you did something wrong, you will probably hear about it.

Sometimes a rider is told to ride in the hooks.  Sometimes to wear proper clothing.  Bend your elbows, spin faster, adjust your helmet properly, eat real food.  That's right, we eat real food.  I have seen Phil throw someone's snack in the ditch because it was not real food, handing him a medjool date and whole wheat fig bar in its place.  I once rode the Cascade Classic with a big chunk of ham in my jersey pocket.  Phil did not mind. 

As Phil makes his rounds, a new kid pulls out an energy gel and slurps it down.  He is about 13 years old, and has chocolate all over his face.  He will get chastised for this, for eating plastic.  I tell him to never bring this on a team ride again, and why.  I suggest we keep it to ourselves, and tell him to go wash the chocolate off his face.

Refueled, Phil tells the group our next destination: Pumpkin Ridge.  We gather ourselves and spin off down the road, Phil following behind in his van, making sure our juniors are riding in the hooks and spinning a sensible gear.

Tuesday's race at PIR was the last time most of us at the BBC would see our buddy Jerome for a long time, as he is heading home to France.

We tried to get him the win a couple weeks ago, but it didn't work out.  I had a new strategy this time around, and should have used it, but didn't.   The race was shortened to 12 laps, which was definitely not to our advantage.

We tried to get away numerous times, but people were more attentive to our moves this week.  I thought we had the win sealed with a four man break that lasted 1.5 laps but were caught at the end of the front straight with one to go. 

The team worked pretty well together.  We lost Joe, our strong kid, when he slid out on a tight turn leading to the back straight.  He's thankfully okay, but will be nursing some road rash for a few weeks.

I got a very good workout riding in and off the front so much, but not much to show for it other than tired legs.  Even the best plans don't always work out.  That happens quite a bit in bike racing.  Getting Jerome the win would have been nice, but I enjoyed giving it a go anyway. 

Jerome: Bon voyage, bonne chance.  We will miss you.