When I checked the weather this morning at our depature and arrival cities (Brinkley AR and Senatobia MS, respectively) both had high wind warnings... along with all points inbetween. At last night's route discussions, we were promised tail winds. The winds didn't get the memo and were blowing out of the SSE. We were headed SE. So... it was pretty much a gruesome headwind all day long. It was 20-30mph winds battering us relentlessly. Five of us got an early start, before the winds hit 20mph. We were going at a comfortable pace. A bit too comfortable, in fact. I could tell, because nothing was hurting a heck of a lot. That would soon change.
Believe it or not, I have been told several times on this trip that I'm the happiest rider around. People say, "You're ALWAYS smiling". The truth of the matter is that when I'm in pain, my face contorts in such a way that it LOOKS like I'm smiling (in Korea, this means help). And when the staff is on the side of the road and yells "How's it going Mikey!?", I always yell back enthusiasticlly "It's going GREAT!" At that precise moment, dozens of voices in my head shout out in unison "HE DOESN'T SPEAK FOR ALL OF US!"
Back to today's reenactment of the Bataan death march. The wind kicked into high gear around mile 40, and our pace slowed to 10mph. And now we were pushing it. And what appears to be a smile came over my face. We had been on the road for over 3 hours. We had 70 miles to go. And we were going 10mph. At this pace, we were going to be on the road for.... a long, long time. A faster paceline came by (going 12 mph), and I hopped on. But there was simply no escaping the wind. Because it was coming at us from a slight angle, we needed to ride in an echelon (diagonal) pattern to get any relief. The road would not allow that. At least for me. Others had squeezed out a spot, but I just couldn't manage to find a position that didn't put me out into the road. So, I fought on.
Every once in a while, the road or route would turn to the east or, better still, northeast. When that happened, speeds increased to over 20mph. But I was so exhausted by that point, that I'd ended up biking alone.
A few days ago, I vowed to stop for any cyclist who was pulled over on the side of the road for mechanical issues (e.g., flat tire) and give moral support. That really didn't work out so well (e.g., four-flat-Rick). So I made another vow. I'd stop for any cyclist who had pulled into a convenience store for drinks and a snack. Shortly before the Mississippi River, I spied Dick and Wolfgang at a small convenience store. They were standing out front with drinks and snacks, and I went into the store in order to alleviate that uncomfortable silence that comes when it becomes apparent that they aren't going to offer me any. The woman at the cash register immediately picked up the conversation she must have been having with Dick and Wolfgang before I arrived. "What do y'all do when the weather's bad?" "Where y'all sleep?" "Y'all doing this just for fun?" She was very pleasant and came outside to see us off. "That's so cool. Y'all be careful." Very friendly people here in Arkansas.
Right after the convenience store came the Mississippi River. In all honesty, I had been dreading this crossing for over a year. There are limited number of bridges over the Mississippi, and each one is heavily trafficked. This was an ancient narrow two lane bridge. The crossing itself wasn't that bad. But once we reached the Mississippi (state) side, the road itself was very narrow with absolutely no shoulder. Just a four inch drop off onto sharp rocks. What state lines the side of their roads with sharp rocks? This wasn't gravel; it was like broken pieces of flint. For 6 miles, we biked on this narrow road with tractor trailor trucks blasting past. And we were in the road. This was definitely not fun.
The second and final SAG came at mile 73. I was beat. I was sore. For the first time all trip, my lower back was aching from grinding out against the wind all day. The SAG was out in the open, and there was no escape from the wind. The strange thing about the day was that is was bright sunshine. There is this huge low pressure system pounding the northern midwest states and it is just sucking the hot air off the Gulf. I think I would have almost felt better if it been raining (I'm going to regret saying that). I grabbed a few cookies, refilled my water bottles and hit the road. I wanted to get today over with. I wasn't into taking pics and only took a couple of really bad ones (one of which is below). The stop sign at the lunch SAG was blown nearly over and shaking in the wind so much that it looked like it was going to sail at any moment.
The motel was 42 miles away, and I was biking solo. Not much to say about this part of the country. It looks like the South. Big, open fields. Nothing blocking the wind. Every once in a while, I'd cross over a creek where there'd be a grove of hardwoods. Then the wind would stop and, for a few seconds, you'd be in Huck Finn country. All bucolic and serene. And then that refreshing moment would be over.
The road finally turned in a northeast direction and I could pick up the pace. However, by this point, I was in a foul mood and nothing was going to change it. Especially the hills and severe case of hot foot I had developed. I pulled off the road about 12 miles from the motel, took off my shoes and socks, rubbed my feet, and put my shoes back on without the socks. Most bike shoes are somewhat mesh and allow for some circulation. It helped. Minimally.
At 10 miles from the motel, there was a turn off onto the worst "paved" road I have ever ridden. I swear it was just a gravel road that someone had spray painted black. After 5 miles of that, it turned into a perfectly paved road. Perhaps just by comparison that road seemed "perfect". But even the "perfect" roads in Mississippi don't have shoulders. It just isn't a "bike-friendly" state. They're probably dealing with more important issues.
I think that one of the things that made today so terrible was that it was supposed to be a relatively "easy" day. It was "only" 115 miles; there was not a tremendous amount of climbing; and we were supposed to have tailwinds. In reality, there simply are no "easy" days out here. Each day brings its own set of challenges.
At the beginning of this trip, Team Leader Mike said that we'd be biking "outside of our comfort zone". I was "outside of my comfort zone" when I learned my flight from Bermuda to Newark did not include a meal. By this point in the trip, my "comfort zone" is just a fuzzy memory. I seem to recall that it is a leather Scandinavian chair in front of a big screen HD TV with a Playstation controller in my hand and a plate of nachos at my side. Today was the antithesis of my comfort zone.
Team Leader Mike is also fond of saying "the worst day on the bike is better than the best day at the office". You've seen that expression before, probably with "on the bike" replaced by "at the beach" or "fishing" or "chewing gum". It doesn't apply to me. Over the years, I've worked with a number of really great people, and I've had some tremendous days at the office. But, ... if you're one those people for which that expression applies... and we were talking about today as your "worst day on the bike"... and it was better than "your best day at the office"... then your life truly sucks. 'Cause this was one grueling day.
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