Day 11 Dalhart TX (97 miles, 1820 feet)

Before I begin with today's ride, I thought I'd briefly discuss the daily distances we're traveling.  Over the course of this entire trip, we average about 120 miles per day.  The century ride (i.e., 100 miles) is the cycling equivalent of running a marathon.  If you ever enter a running event that is a marathon, there are often half-marathon and/or 10k options.  Likewise, cycling events that have a century will often have 30 mile and 60 mile options.  Rarely does a person new to running enter a marathon right off the bat; instead they start with a 10k run and work up from there.  Similarly, cyclist beginning long distance riding will first start riding 30 or 60 mile routes before progressing to a full century.  There are actually entire books that are dedicated to preparing a cyclist for his or her first century ride.  It takes many months to build up to that level of mileage.  And usually, after a cyclist has ridden a century, they take a fair amount of time off to recuperate - like a couple of weeks, a month, a year or a lifetime (once was enough).

When put in that context, the fact that we ride so much day after day is sort of daunting.  I actually try not to think about it.  Most organized cross-country trips average more along the lines of 60 miles per day.  The company that runs this trip has two more cross-country trips each year that have that type of mileage.  This trip, however, is the Fast America ride.

I mention all of this in part because today's mileage of "only" 97 miles can appear somewhat puny compared to the big mileage days we've been posting lately.  But remember, it is only 3 miles short of a century, which is in itself a nice achievement.

The word for today was "speed".  I've been dead last reaching the motel in the evenings on most occassions.  I remember after the third day, I was sitting around talking with Jay in the motel's courtyard when Randy came up.  Randy is an incredibly intense cyclist from New Mexico.  He bikes only at one speed - full out.  He has it cranked to 11 all day long.  Randy looked at me and said, "Man... you're hardcore.  You're out there plugging away all day long.  You don't stop.  You're the first one out of the motel in the morning and the last one in each evening".  Hardcore, huh.  Where I'm from we call that "slow".  Now that I know, I will use "hardcore" in its proper context.  Like:

I would have been here sooner, but I got stuck behind this hardcore truck.

I tried to explain it to him, but he just doesn't get it.  He's a little... you know... hardcore.

Today was the day I was going to be first to the motel.  Mileage wasn't incredibly long.  Fairly flat terrain.  And we were due for some kickin' tailwinds.  I knew luggage load was at 7am; my baggage was there at 6:45am.  I was going to get a jump on everyone.  However, luggage load was not actually until 7:30am.  So I was outside pacing in my biking gear for half an hour before Karen came out to open the luggage trailor.  You can't leave until you've checked your luggage and signed the sign-in sheet. 

By this point, most of the really fast riders are standing around the luggage trailor and chomping at the bit.  Karen sees me and says, "You want an early start?".  I say "You bet".  She opens the trailor just for my stuff and shuts it back again.  Thanks so much Karen.  I'm going to get a good ten minute head start on everyone.  As I begin to start off, the other cyclists all wish me luck (they're truly a great group).  I hear one of them ask "Hey... why does he get to leave early?" and I could have sworn I heard Karen say, "He can get an early start because he's a little hardcore".

The route was fairly straight-forward.  We ride back into the town of Tucumcari, a couple of turns and then on the one road to Dalhart.  By the time I was out of town, I was flying.  I was giving it all I had.  It was early and the winds hadn't really kicked up yet, but I was really moving.  One of my cycle computers captures statistics in 5 mile intervals.  The first 5 miles, my average speed was 18.2 mph.  The second 5 miles, it was 20.4 mph.  By the third 5 mile interval, it was 25.7 mph.  On flat terrain.  I was biking way out of my element.  I might not be the first to the motel, but I was going to at least be the first to the first SAG, which was at mile 25. 

As I approached that first SAG, I thought of something. I had not seen the SAG van.  I was going to get to the SAG location before there was a SAG.  Just then, I hit a wall of a climb and the van passed me.  I pulled up just as the van was parking.  I was the first there.  I had to wait for Karen and Barbara to set up.  (BTW, Karen helps with the first SAG, then hops on her bike for the rest of the day).  They have it down to a science and, if you get in the way, you may lose a hand.  There is a procedure that us riders have to adhere to.  We have to wash our hands, sanitize them, sign the sign-in sheet and then we can get food and water.  My left leg had the beginnings of a cramp, so I quickly got down a very ripe banana.  I also ate a granola bar and a cookie, and re-filled my bottles.  And I was off.  Off before anyone else had even arrived.

Scenery in these parts is open pasture land.  It is slightly rolling, and trees only grow down by creeks.  I was riding on a nice shoulder - but not too wide.  Traffic was strictly tractor-trailors.  As I looked out into the pasture, I could see a few old-fashioned windmills.  They were pointed in the right direction.  Not a direct tailwind, but coming from the SW - and we're headed east, so that was good.

I have honestly never ridden so hard in my life.  I wanted to get to the lunch SAG before anyone else, and that was at mile 66.  At mile 54, we cross the Texas state line.  No time for a photo stop; I had to take a pic while biking at 33 mph.  The shoulder in Texas was wide as a lane and smoothly paved.  In Texas, they sometimes drive on the shoulder, so there is minimal debris on it (other than roadkill).

I made it to the lunch SAG still in first, but not by much.  Russ and David (a triathlete from Southern California) arrived shortly after I did.  It was at the lunch stop that I realized what a tailwind we had.  It was pretty strong.  Barbara had set up at a rest area with picnic tables.  Nothing was staying on the table that wasn't weighted down.  If you made yourself a sandwich, you had to hold down the bread or it would blow away.  I grabbed a few things and then was back out on the road.

The final 31 miles were pretty intense.  At mile 75, the smooth road turned into chipped seal.  At mile 86, we hit the cattle feed lots.  Cows come here to be fattened up before slaughter.  The aroma is over-powering.  At mile 97, I made it to the hotel still in first.  It was twenty minutes before the next rider arrived.  I had covered 97 miles in 3 hours and 40 minutes.  My average speed was 26.4 mph.  Never again in a thousand years could I ride that fast for that long.

We lost another hour coming into Texas (we need to be more careful with those things).  Early yesterday, we crossed our 1,000 mile mark - a third of our journey is over.

English Mike (from last year's ride) has reminded me that every rider has good days and every rider has bad days.  Today I had a very good day.  My left thigh is pretty tight.  My back is hurting.  However, I'm feeling really good at the moment.  Tomorrow I go back to being hardcore.