Breakfast is served at 5a. You'd think that's early, considering that you have another 90 minutes before the ride starts, but it isn't. People line up in the hundreds before 5a, and volunteers take pity on you and open as soon as they can.

The problem with the lines is that most people just aren't able to function at 5a. One morning, I saw a guy spend 2 minutes (I was waiting for a friend at the end of the line, that's how I know) in front of a basket filled with identical single-serve portions of strawberry jam. He just couldn't choose which one he wanted.

The drama is annoying. I wished ALC would simply prepare plates with the different options on them and allow a little of the food to go to waste, especially considering that some volunteers make high drama when you ask for a double scoop of anything. Since the morning eggs are the only copious source of vegetarian proteins, I didn't have the option of going to an outmeal-and-cold-stuff express line.

Next on the drama show is the beverages section. Ok, I'll confess, I am a morning caffeine addict. I need my 10,000mg of caffeine before I board my bike. For some reason, though, ALC provides a double whammy of barely brown water passed off as coffee, and the tiniest cups short of the gargle cups at the dentist's office.

Ah, the days of Marco walking around with a teeny cup filled with steaming brothy brown stuff. It is a mile (so it feels) from the beverage stand to the tables, plenty of distance to have half the content spill over my fingers while I hold the plate with the food in balance on the other hand. By the time I got to the tables, I had half the coffee in the cup, half on my fingers and sleeves, and a few breakfast items dropped in the grass. Easy solution? Move the beverages to the other end of the mess hall, so that you first drop off your plate, then retrieve the drink.

The next thing I found out was that I was not the only one exhbiting an interesting pattern. Turns out that the more you eat, the more you, well, excrete. On a typical riding day, I'd spend twice the normal calories, which means I'd eat twice as much, which means... mountains of fertilizers in the port-a-pits. Bon appetit!

Don't forget to pack your bags, at this point, put the tent back in its own bag, and march the whole thing to the trucks. Nobody is going to do that for you.

At this point, it's all back to the bikes, as described in the section above.