By BETH KOHN

SENTINEL CORRESPONDENT

Let’s just say I had no problems recruiting eager volunteers. Cycling works well on the reward system.

Two veteran biking buddies with antsy legs and empty bellies offered to lead me through one of their favorite rides, a tour of the grassy hills and back roads buffering Pescadero. It’s a respectable 30-mile loop, with a few moderate ups and downs warming you up for a single big climb. But instead of sprinting toward the finish line, my friends valiantly agreed to stop and sample culinary treats en route, and the Pescadero cycle-and-snack ride rolled into action.

We didn’t get too far before our nostrils called a time out for fresh artichoke garlic herb bread at Norm’s Market. Ravenously celebrating our debut stopover, we were soon grabbing warm fistfuls of cheesy crust, prowling for chewy artichoke hearts and staving off a potentially hazardous carb crash.

The old coastal highway and stagecoach route, Stage Road rambles through a tranquil eucalyptus grove followed by a hulking metal skeleton brandishing a machine gun, a startling piece of lawn art doubling as a “no trespassing” sign. Gentle hills rise and fall, and we meandered past bucolic scenes of slack-jawed cows and peek-a-boo views of the Pacific. As we struggled up a lengthy switchback, a red-tailed hawk taunted us overhead, effortlessly surfing the headwind.

On weekends, the San Gregorio General Store rejuvenates weary cyclists with energy-rich egg salad sandwiches and foot-tapping bluegrass and Irish music. A friendly community hangout since 1889, the mission-style landmark houses a cafe, bar and a bookstore. Jumpstart your granny gear with a mug of coffee at their wooden saloon bar singed by ranchers’ branding irons.

The steepest section of the ride is also one of the most lovely, with loose switchbacks threading through the humid redwood forest of Sam McDonald County Park. After panting our way to the top of Haskins Hill, we reveled in the cool descent alongside shaded creeks and quirky half-hidden houses, including one sprouting hundreds of pink flamingos.

With more than 100 varieties of dried beans lining the walls, Phipps Country Store is a legume-obsessed labor of love. Whitewashed bins overflow with heirloom varieties sporting names like Painted Lady, Desert Pebble and Eye of the Goat. About half the beans are organically grown on the Phipps family farm, and for the bean-impaired, the store thoughtfully furnishes cooking instructions. Between June and October, cyclists can pick their own organic strawberries, olallieberries and boysenberries, consoling themselves with jars of jam when the berries go out of season.

Wooden cut-outs of a goat and a girl clad in Wellington boots mark the entrance to the Harley Farms Cheese Shop, perhaps a nod to the owner’s Yorkshire heritage. A working goat dairy and artisanal cheese maker, the farm lures cheese-lovers with free weekend tastings, and tours for city slickers to milk the black and white American Alpine goats. Their most exquisite treat may be the Monet wheel, festooned with a rainbow of edible farm-grown flowers, but the apricot pistachio, cranberry walnut chevre and the unadorned feta make this a five star stop nonetheless.

In the same location since 1894, homey Duarte’s Tavern remains the buzzing foodie epicenter of Pescadero. We tucked into a mix of the cream of artichoke and cream of green chile soups before munching our way through artichoke ravioli and fresh fish. Of course we saved room in our spandex-swathed stomachs for the flaky olallieberry pie.

Mission complete, we savored our final prize and then waddled, bowlegged, toward home.

Contact Beth Kohn at fiercesf@igc.org.