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number, anyway?"
    "Very helpful boss at shop." That grin was pure cat-got-the-cream. "Happy to know Antano-Clark riders get great
    service." Luca clipped one shoe into the pedal.
    If Christopher were late and explained why, Brendan would probably look the other way. Still best not to press it. "Okay. And thanks.
    You're headed back?"
    "Not yet. I ride an easy hour, then home and pack. Team goes to Snow Mountain Ranch for high altitude training. Roads are clear, no snow
    forecast. Go for three days."
    That would give them another three thousand feet of elevation, even on the relative flats from Winter Park to Granby. Christopher had to admire the
    training that would give them the sort of boost others had to resort to banned drugs to get. Altitude or EPO? When riders could prove they were at
    ski-resort altitudes to explain their performance, no one should ask them for blood samples twice. "Great. Wear a lot of sunscreen, the snow will
    focus the sun on you and you'll fry." Christopher recalled what Luca had bought at the store.
    "I will. I need another tube when I return. Maybe..." Luca paused. "We ride again after?"
    Again! Hell yes! But-- "Your teammates may not be happy with that." Having no illusions about his performance or his luck on
    catching Luca on recovery ride days, Christopher also didn't want a charity ride. Luca would ride with him and then go train for real.
    "Then maybe... we go to dinner without team?" Why did Luca look braced for a "no"?
    Maybe because the shock kept words stuck in Christopher's throat. "Yeah. Sure," he finally managed to stammer out.
    "Love to."
    "I call you." Luca pushed off from a standing start, gaining speed across the parking lot in a way that could have almost been fleeing.
    On his way back to town, Christopher thought half about his pedaling and half about the promised evening with Luca. Their first date. It was a date, right?
    Luca did have people to hang out with if that's all he wanted, didn't he? As Christopher surged down the road with his new technique,
    he had to correct himself. Dinner would be their second date.

Chapter 5
    "Did you eat the batteries or the whole damned rabbit?" Stu draped over his handlebars, head bowed and chest heaving. The bike looked
    like the only thing keeping him from toppling over. They rested on the shoulder of Highway 93, where Christopher couldn't decide which view was
    prettier: Coal Creek Peak or Stu gasping for air. Christopher wasn't even breathing hard.
    "Fricasseed with a side of carrots." The last three days of riding had been spent practicing Luca's instructions; Christopher
    had made endless back and forth passes on a relatively flat and very deserted country road east of town. Concentrating on technique left him without a
    brain cell to spare on traffic, so he'd made sure there was none to be wary of. Starting slowly, as his second recommended day of recovery
    riding, he'd picked up speed almost without realizing it. The additional power he could give the bike made his first choice of gear too
    easy--in order to keep the rpms down, he had to gear up. And up. After three days on the flats, Christopher could turn over the same rpms in a
    substantially higher gear, with a corresponding increase in speed.
    Out on the road today, he'd still needed to adjust technique constantly to make sure he hadn't reverted to his old patterns. No wonder
    Luca said they spent hours practicing.
    "Seriously, what did you do, pop some steroids?" Stu looked like he might stand up straight again any minute.
    "Nothing that easy for you to duplicate. I got some coaching. Still working on being consistent. Here's what he told
    me..." Christopher explained; the satisfaction of whupping Stu once was sufficient.
    "Obviously it works." Stu was back in the upright and interested position. "So the effort to your leg changes so the power to
    the pedal doesn't, okay... This makes more sense than what we were reading. You should write this up for one of your articles.