Alaskan Pack Fodder

I'm not that guy anymore. Too much time off the bike, too much sitting around, too much extra weight. Too little aerobic capacity and lean muscle mass. I've been tooling around the Biloxi area in the small ring, trying to train away my natural tendency to grind, which uses muscles I no longer possess. My average speed for these jaunts was pitiful, but it was more about getting out and building some sort of a base of cycling fitness. From pretty much nothing. So obviously it was a great idea to tag along on a weekly hammer ride. In the dark. On twisty roads I didn't know. With riders I didn't know. Having flashbacks of my last crit crash, the one that effectively ended my racing days. I was a ball of tension, redlined and closing gaps I should have never let open. Yeah, I was dropped. Once we re-grouped, I hung on. Once on familiar roads, I did ok. I wasn't at the front, but I wasn't dropped, either. The saddle sores I have been cultivating were screaming every t

  The last time I was in Biloxi was in November of 2016. I was recovering from a broken collar bone, but otherwise was relatively fit, lean, and getting fitter and leaner. Because I had nothing else to do and energy to burn, I rode a lot. It was wasted effort that translated into burnout during the trainer season, but I really didn't care. I hadn't been riding at all. A handful of road rides before the season ended. A couple fat bike rides when the trails near my house were packed well. Mostly I've hiked, cross-country skied, and sat on my fat ass. Primarily the latter. I knew I was going to be spending the month of February in Biloxi. I swore I was going to get back on the trainer in preparation, but I never did. I came in cold. I packed all sorts of warmers and raingear and stuff that I have yet to use.I forgot all sorts of tools. My tires were excessively worn and my tubes weren't in great shape either. I ended up buying new ones after a horrible first ride led to 4