Day 16 Fort Smith AR (109 miles)

After yesterday's killer 146 mile ride, it was nice to look forward to something more manageable.  Not sure when a 109 mile ride fell into the "more manageable" column, and I'm pretty sure its not going to stay in that category once this trip is over.

At the end of yesterday's ride, I stopped to watch Wolfgang change his tenth flat, and we biked the last 8 miles to the hotel together.  I really enjoyed that section of the long ride, and I vowed to be a better person and stop more often for disabled cyclists - if only to provide moral support.  That vow would be put to the test today.

Throughout this trip, I have found the hardest part of the day to be that moment when I wheel my bike out of my motel room and let the door shut behind me with the motel key inside.  There's no turning back at that point.  No more warm comfortable room.  No more hot shower.  The soothing voice of Sponge Bob quickly becomes a distant memory as I head out on a long day on the bike.  Today... it didn't feel so bad, even though it was the best hotel room I've had on the entire trip.

Mechanical repairs are usually in the evening.  However, due to yesterday's long ride, they were put off until 7:15am this morning.  There were several of us in need of some sort of work.  I had a small ding in my wheel from my blowout and I needed to replace my rear tire.  Mike quickly fixed the wheel, and I set about changing the tire and tube.  Several other riders also had small problems.  This trip is hard on equipment, bodies and minds.

We all started off from the hotel at the same time.  There is something about this group - they really like starting the morning en mass.  Like on several previous occassions, I took the initiative to get us moving and led the procession.  About 100 yards from the hotel, I made a wrong turn.  Do you know what is like to have 14 cyclists all yelling "Hey hardcore guy, you went the wrong way!" at you?  Fortunately, they were all stuck at a red light, and I was able to quickly resume my forward position.  I was determined to get this group going.  Not sure why.  Usually about the time their legs are just warming up, mine are blowing up.

I stayed out front for about 2 miles before the paceline caught me.  I snuggle in the middle, and we're making good time.  Russ is out front, and while he is perfectly capable of leaving us in his dust, he sets the most perfect pace.  We're traveling along at about 22mph, and best of all, I'm able to breathe somewhat normally.  With each successive rider taking his turn at the front, the pace continues at that perfect pace.  Then it is Per's turn and I'm right behind him.  Per can set a grueling pace, but he is content to continue at this wonderful pace.  I can tell Rick is behind me; not because I looked, but because I know the sound of his rear cassette.  In a paceline, the perfect place to be is that second spot.  You get the draft.  You can see upcoming obstacles.  And most importantly, there is none of that yo-yo-ing that goes on as you move further back the paceline.

Finally, Per peels off and it is my turn.  The first position is my second most favorite spot in the paceline.  In this case, it is like you're the engineer on this large train.  You set the pace, and I continued to keep it at that same speed - about 22mph.  Faster on the descents.  Slower on the climbs.  This goes on for several miles until we hit a particularly steep section of road.  Like I said, I know Rick is behind me and I think I know the pace he likes. Which is right below my anerobic threshold.  Works for me.  However, as we crest the hill, the fast riders decide that they've digested enough of their breakfast and it is time to crank.  The paceline breaks apart.  I drop off the back, and Rick manages to hang on.  Oh, well.  I don't mind biking solo.  I know that there are several riders about a mile or so behind me.

The day is really nice.  The air is crisp but warming.  Sun is shining.  And I'm in short-sleeves, which is the only way to bike.  Up ahead, I see Rick by the side of the road changing a flat.  And I remember my vow to give moral assistance.  I stop.  After a while, the other riders come along.  Scott also stops.  He really doesn't like to see anyone stranded.  Rick changes tubes, and we head off as a three-man paceline.  It works just fine.  Until this horrible sound comes from Rick's bike.  Turns out he's picked up a nail in his rear tire and it sounds like he's lost a spoke.  I've never seen a flat like this one.  I took a pic.

His second flat in about 20 miles.  Ok... my vow to "aid" was being put to the test.  Then came flat #3.  And flat #4.  Which actually came while he was changing flat #3.  Seriously.  If it had been me, I would have taken the hint and assumed that God wanted me in the van.  But Rick just kept on smiling and changing flats.

Jay is riding sweep and stops as well.  We assume that flat #4 is being taken care of (Mike and the van are there) and the two of us pace into lunch.  Jay says "Pick a number".  I say "21", and he sets a pace at 21mph.  The next 12 miles fly by - he is the easiest person to pace behind.  His upbeat attitude is constant and infectious.  At stoplights, he strikes up conversations with guys on Harleys.  I'm trying to avoid eye contact, and he's joking around with them and leaving them all in smiles.

It is at lunch that I discover why leaving my hotel room was so easy this morning.  I still have the room key sticking out of my shorts (our shorts have no pockets).

Rick and Scott join us at lunch, and the three of us (sans Jay) set off for the final leg to the hotel.  We're perhaps an hour behind the lead riders at this point.  We hit a detour, ride down a road that is torn up to the bedrock, get lost and somehow manage to end up on the right road.  It is hot.  For the first time since California, it is hot hot.  After about 15 miles of this, Scott makes an excellent decision and we pull into a convenience store to cool off. 

Turns out that most of the prior riders had done that same thing because the exuberant redheaded Amazon behind the counter shouts out "Y'all are way behind."  She knows where we're going (i.e., Savannah) and asks "Y'all doing it just for fun too?"  We explain that yes, it is all for "fun" and we have been plagued by flats today.  "Ain't no surprise", she says.  "We have the worst roads here in Oklahoma".  She is absolutely correct.  Except for a few very golden sections, the roads in Oklahome have been terrible. The scenery and people have been great, but the pavement sucks. But I don't want to simply agree.  I want to say something nice - but all that comes out is "Oh..... you....."  I almost say "Yes, but you sure have a lot of roadkill."  Thankfully, I bite my tongue just in time.  However, that is true as well.  Oklahoma has more roadkill per linear mile of highway than any other place I have ridden.  It is mainly possum, armadillo and skunk - three species whose natural defenses fail miserably against a '92 Buick Roadmaster.

Finally, we leave the convenience store and head for the hotel, which is about 15 miles away.  My natural shower instinct takes over, and I leave Rick and Scott in the dust.  Not very nice.  I will try harder next time.  Somewhere around 10 miles from the hotel, we cross into Arkansas.  But we are on very, very back roads and there is no sign.  But there is a change in pavement.  It is better pavement; however, it is about 50 years old.  What do you expect on these back roads?  Very soon, I'm into Fort Smith rush hour traffic (yes... there is such a thing) and bicycles are out of place.  This is where the route sheet comes in handy, because there are about a dozen turns in the last 4 miles.  At the end of a century ride, biking in heavy traffic, looking down at a route sheet precariously clipped to your handlebars and scanning ahead for road signs is tricky.  But I make it to the hotel, which has ice water and cookies waiting.

Tomorrow is our rest day.  Heck yeah!  And Jay, who is from Arkansas, has arranged for three massage therapists to come to our hotel.  Most of us have signed up for an hour.  Randy has signed up for two hours because that's just the kinda guy he is - he's going to do twice as much as the next guy. 

We have our evening meeting and Jay's mother is there to give him a lift to his house up in Fayetteville (about 60 miles north).  I get to meet her and tell her how wonderful he has been to ride with.  I then ask her if she has a tattoo on her arm that says "Son".  (Don't tell my mother, but I think it makes for a wonderful Mother's Day gift).

For dinner, eight of us hit the Olive Garden and devour the "all you can eat" salad and bread sticks, before consuming big plates of pasta.  There is not a crumb left on the table.  Usually, eight people at a table is a little over-whelming for me.... but it is just perfect with this group.  We then head to the Braum's ice cream parlor next door, where we get sundaes and (just to be safe) an ice cream cone to go.  We found three other riders doing the same thing.  Each one of us eats like a horse.  I heard one rider say "I was 163 when I started this trip.  I'm now 164."  For the record, if I ever get down to 164, I'm going to have it printed on a tee shirt.  The weight doesn't start dropping off until late next week.  At least, that's what I've been told.  It better.

I'm looking forward to my day off.  Fort Smith is a really nice, clean town - the perfect place to unwind.  15 days of biking down; 10 to go.  And we're in the South, y'all.  I feel at home.

Day 15 McAlester OK (146 miles)

If biking 146 miles is on your bucket list (i.e., things to do before you die), take it off and replace it with something simplier.  Like eating a gallon of Chunky Monkey.  Or if you really think you must, bike 12 miles a day for 12 days and call it close enough.

Our motel in Chickasha OK last night had an indoor pool.  Half the rooms were inside and organized around the pool; the other half were on the outside of the motel facing the parking lot. The pool had a jacuzzi, picnic area and ping pong table. In addition to us cyclists, the motel was housing about a dozen little league baseball teams that had come to Chickasha to play in a tournament.  That meant that the pool, jacuzzi, picnic area and halls were full of about a hundred 8-12 year-olds having a great time.  My room overlooked the pool.  The kids were really good, but kids are kids - and they were a little loud.  I was tired, and the sounds of all those kids playing was actually soothing.  It sounded like I was on vacation.  All that laughter made me so relaxed.  I went to sleep about 9pm - a full hour before the pool closed. 

We are all getting a little brain dead from these long days.  Our breakfast was the usual self-serve variety; but you needed to ask the waitress for milk.  Per, from Denmark, came in a little late.  He came to our table, looked down at my cereal and said, "You found the... cow?".  I looked down at my cereal, then up at Per and said, "You mean you want the cow juice?"  "Yes, yes.  The cow juice."  So I handed him my container of milk, which will henceforth be known in my family as "cow juice".

Today's ride started out on the cool side, but the skies were clear.  We left the motel as one big group.  No one got an early start.  It was Sunday morning and we were traveling out of town sort of through an industrial park.  Four lanes of no traffic.  We weren't biking as a paceline.  Instead, for the first time we were biking as a peleton - just one big group.  It was great.  I was in the middle, and the people to my left and right were so close that I could reach over and change their gears.  "You're going a bit too fast.  Let's downshift you."

About two miles into the ride, David sprints away.  No one answers.  As far as I know, that's the last anyone saw of David all day.  I spent all day yesterday with him, and it left me exhausted.  Where did all of that energy come from?  Maybe being super athletic and 20 years younger had something to do with it.

The fast group picks up speed.  I'm chatting with Jay, and it quickly gets to a point where I need to make a choice.  Keep talking or breathe.  Survival instincts take over, and I shut up.  The pace is very fast, and then we hit the hills.  Each climb leaves me anaerobic.  I last for the first 8 miles, then the group slowly pulls away.  We are travelling over long, rolling hills, and I can continue to see the group for about an hour.  But there is no way to catch them.  I continue to try.  I am biking like I'm on an 18 mile training ride - not an 146 mile painfest. I decide on another tactic: short SAG stops.

At each SAG, I wolf down food, fill my water bottles and leave with some of the faster riders.  Inevitably, I will get dropped - but it helps me keep my pace up.  I know that at any time there are at least four riders behind me, and I want to stay in front of them.

After lunch, Randy misses a turn.  He realizes his mistake after a few miles and gets on the correct road.  He sneaks up behind me and reaches over to give me a push up the hill.  Instead, he gooses me and I shoot straight up.  Guess you had to be there.  We continue to bike together on some gorgeous, empty country roads.  The road surface isn't great, but the views and company are.  You could be anywhere in the southeast.  It is sunny, warm and green.  Wildflowers are blooming everywhere.  Another one of those days I envisioned when I decided I wanted to bike across the country.

We finally get on a highway.  For the most part, the Oklahoma roads we've been biking have no shoulder.  You're biking on the white line.  But we find ourselves on a beautiful wide and smoothly paved shoulder, and Randy offers to pace me into the final SAG.  He asks how fast I'd like to go.  I say about 20 - 21mph.   We bike at that pace for a while.  Like six seconds.  Then Randy's natural tendencies take over and we're blasting down the highway at 32mph.  I keep up until my route sheet flys off my handlebars (where it is clipped).  I brake to get it... there are a ton of turns in the final ten miles that get us to the hotel.  By the time I stop, the route sheet is a quarter of a mile back up the road.  My bike goes east. Occassionally, it goes north or south.  But my bike never, ever goes west.  We've been west and don't need to go back.  I figure I can make it to the final SAG and get a new route sheet there.

On the last leg from the final SAG to the hotel, I hit a rock while going down a steep hill and blow out my rear tire.  I have the wheel off the bike and the tire off the wheel when Mike and Karen pull up.  My new wheel has a ding that we will have to straighten out later.  The tire has a small tear, but I can make it to the hotel.  The tube is toast, of course.  Bummer about the new tire - they cost as much as a car tire.  Again, not a cheap sport.

Mike and Karen pull off after a while, and I continue biking towards the hotel when I see Wolfgang on the side of the road changing a tire.  He had two wires in his tire.  In the last two weeks, I think he has had at least ten flats.  Wolfgang is one of my favorite riders; just an absolute workhorse.  I stop to make sure all is OK.  He is about finished with the tire change, and then Mike and Karen pull up.  The four of us bike the final eight miles to the hotel, which is great because we don't need to consult our route sheets.

I finish the ride right at nine hours; that's nine hours in the saddle.  It was was more time out on the road due to SAGS and the flat.  We had battled a pesky headwind for most of the day.  Sometimes it increased to "annoying", but never "soul crushing".  We had about 5000 feet of climbing, mainly in the form of these long rollers.  If they had been a little closer together, I could have used the speed coming down one to help get up the next.  But they were spaced too far apart.

I have developed a soreness in my right calf, which is good for two reasons.  First, it takes my mind off the pain in my left thigh.  Second, it means that I'm spinning more.  To be a really good cyclist, you need to pedal at a relatively high cadence (rpm).  When you do that, you bring your calf muscles more into play.  If you've ever been to a spinning class, you probably know what I mean.  If it didn't happen to you, then you probably saw some newbie jump off the bike after fifteen minutes, grabbing a calf and screaming.

Today was hard.  All the days are hard, but this was really long.  But I'm getting stronger and mentally tougher.  There's not a day that I don't think I could finish.  I was beat at the end of today's ride, but I could have continued if it was necessary.  Tonight we're at a really nice Holiday Inn Express.  The room is new, modern and huge.  I don't want to leave it.  We have a "normal" day tomorrow, and then it is our rest day.

As a final note, I hope all the family in Tennessee is dry and safe.  That storm system in front of us is flooding that area pretty bad.

Day 14 Chickasah OK (123 miles)

I just wanted to let you know about the calibre of the cyclists participating in this year's event.  There are two riders that I haven't really mentioned.  Nico is originally from Chile, but now lives in northern California.  He is using the ride to train him for his third FULL Ironman Triathlon.  That is: swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles and run 26.2 miles. It is quite an achievement just to qualify.  The other cyclist I wanted to mention is Reem from NY.  She is the only woman on the trip this year.  Not only is she an accomplished triathlete, but she also co-owns a company that trains other triathletes.  Reem was also a professional road cyclist; she was paid to race a bike.  She's the one that keeps us in line with those complicated pacelines. 

Yesterday's average speed was almost 22mph.  Last night, my thighs were screaming in rebellion for these past few days of hanging with the big guys.  It was hard to sleep, but I managed by elevating my legs.

Today, Dick and Pacific Mike got the early start.  The rest of us pulled out as a group and soon separated into smaller groups... but all within sight of each other.  Today's route was through back country roads, with lots of turns.  I joined up with Rick, David, Scott and Russ to form a paceline.  Not a killer pace (thank goodness), but enough to keep us moving along at a good clip.  Russ peeled off to wait for Reem and pace her back to the front pack.

The weather was cool and overcast.  We were hit with intermittent rain... nothing like is going on in Arkansas and Tennessee.  We are chasing that huge weather system that is moving east and throwing off dozens of tornados.  The scenery was just country roads through beautiful farmland.  It was just the picture of what biking across America should be like.  Except, it was overcast and cool.  And, could you lop off about 100 miles?

We continued with that four man paceline through the first SAG and lunch SAG.  I can't explain how enjoyable it is to work with these three other guys in such an organized fashion for hour after hour.  The first man sets the pace... and that is just as important as the draft he is creating.  Biking on your own, you will inevitably lose focus and slow down from time to time.  In the paceline, it is the job of the guy up front to keep to a steady pace.  Each time he peeled off and went to the back of the line, it was always a round of thanks.  "Good job." "Great pull."  We each took turns at the front working in the same order.  Scott, David, me and Rick.

The big news of the day is that we hit the official half-way spot before the lunch SAG.  We were not spread out too far apart ... all the riders made it there within about 15 minutes of each other.  That was a major accomplishment; not sure that we've ever all been that close together after 3 hours of biking.  Lots of photos were taken by Mike (Team Leader Mike) that will show up in the DVD after the trip.  I can't believe we've reached the half-way point of our trip, and it was great to have all of the riders together for that occassion.

Shortly after lunch, we lost Scott.  I turned around and he was nowhere in sight.  Word was that he had a tight hamstring and had to drop out of our paceline (he made it to the motel with Dick and Pacific Mike).  The remaining three continued onto the third SAG, which was set up at a "fast food" shop in the middle of nowhere.  Seriously.  We were about three miles outside of Nowhere OK.  It was a Dairy Bar.  We all picked up a milk shake,even though we were all cold.  The place couldn't have been more of a dive... and we were all happy to be there.

The three of us left the Dairy Bar together and continued to work as a team.  About 15 miles from our final destination, we came up on Randy.  He had been dropped from the team he was with and was bonking.  David stopped to give him a gel pack with caffeine, and that perked him up.  Rick and I had slowed to a chatting pace to wait for David and Randy.  They soon joined us and we all paced into Chickasha together.  I am never happier on this trip than when we're about 5 miles from the motel - especially if I'm coming in with other riders.  The day is almost over; there is an incredible sense of accomplishment; and a shower is just around the corner.  My energy levels pick up, and I could practically sprint to the motel.

I've said it before.  If today was the only lengthy bike ride I took all year, I'd be talking about it for months and remember it clearly for years.  It was a great experience working with the other riders - they're tremendous.  Over seven hours in the saddle.  However, I'm sitting here at 8pm and can't remember large sections of the ride.  The days are running together at an alarming pace.

Tomorrow is our biggest mileage day - 145 miles.  Today was "only" 123 miles; I could have gone another 22 miles, ... but I was so glad I didn't have to.

Day 13 Elk City OK (100 miles)

I woke up in Pampa TX to the sound of howling winds outside of my motel room.  Just what direction?  We had a late load - 7:30am.  Practically a day off.  I'm sleeping better; a good 7 hours or more per night.  Exhaustion has won out over the fear of the next day's ride.  I did wake up about 1am with throbbing thighs.  The trick is to lay on the floor and put your legs up against the wall - or, in this case, lay in the bed and put my legs up against the headboard.  It lets the blood flow down.  Not a terribly comfortable position, but I went back to sleep like that.

The temp this morning was 48.  But with a 30mph wind, it felt like 12.  All this cold weather; and it is almost May.  When is it going to warm up?  With all of my riding in Bermuda, I thought I was halfway decent at biking in hot, humid weather.  However, after biking in the freezing cold, snow and sleet, I've come to realize something altogether different.  I'm really, really good at the PlayStation.  What the hell am I doing out here?!

Our route today took us south back into town, straight into the headwind.  We left sort of as a group - but some of the faster riders got a jump.  I took off to catch up with them.  I wanted to get back into the pack.  There's safety in numbers.  Big ones look after little ones. And... to avoid confusion... in this case, I'm a little one. 

Randy was also a little late leaving and I hopped onto his wheel.  The trip back into town was only 3 miles, but it was a long, cold three miles.  Especially when you're all in shorts.  We caught the group at a stop light where we turned east.  The blasting headwind became a blasting crosswind.  We biked out of town at a pretty reasonable pace and eventually formed into a traditional paceline.  That is basically a single file with the rider at the front doing the brunt of the work.  When he get's tired, he peels back and rejoins at the end of the line.  It is then the next rider's turn.  There were seven of us.  One rider before it is my turn, we form the circular rotating paceline again.  We were making good time at an average speed of 22mph.  Very good considering the blasting crosswinds.

We continued like that until wind and steep hills separated us slightly.  We all made it to the first SAG at mile 33 effectively together.   We left a little more spread out, but hooked up again to form a paceline to the lunch SAG at mile 66.  Texas gave us a nice parting gift in the form of the smoothest road we've riden to date.  It was like silk and made riding so much better.  The pace got a little tough, and I dropped off.  But several of us met up at the OK state line, which was just about 5 miles from lunch.

After lunch, Paul, Brian, David and I set off for the final 32 miles to the hotel.  It was a straightforward paceline working at a nice clip.  Per caught up with us and the pace quickened.  I managed to hold on for about 20 miles, but the pace was just a little too fast.  In these pacelines, some guys are working at about 85% of their capacity, while others (me) are at 99%.  I can keep up, but it is a lot of work.  Whenever we top a hill after a long climb, it is easy to pick me out of the group.  I'm the only one gasping for breath.

"Hey dude.  You gonna live?"
"Probably ...[gasp]... not"

As we came into Elk City, I manage to catch the group due to traffic lights.  Once again, we met up with Route 66.  In fact, Elk City has a large Route 66 museum that I'd like to see some day.  Brian actually peeled off to take a look.  I'm comfortable running into a convenience store or fast food restaurant in Lycra, but walking around a museum in skin tight clothes is where I draw the line.  So I took a pass.

Scenery today was farmland.  Some of it even looked a little like south Georgia in places.  We hit another cattle feed lot and the smell was enough to knock me off of the bike.  The sky was clear and blue, but the real story was the wind.  The word all the cyclists use to describe it is "relentless".  It was coming from the south and we were heading east.  So that meant that it was in the right ear and out the left for most of the day.  Except when the road made a slight deviation north or south.  Then it was either a slight tailwind or a partial headwind.

I'm feeling pretty good these days.  My left thigh is sore when I push it... and that's what it takes to keep up with the front pack.  In the evenings, I'm exhausted and ache... but I've made it a point to go out to dinner with whatever group is headed out.  It is one of the best parts of the trip.  We got quite a group.

Tomorrow is 125 miles through the farmlands of OK.  It will be a lot of turns and navigation.  Then, on Sunday is our longest day... 145 miles.  That has got several of us worried.  We have another tough one on Monday, then a rest day on Tuesday. 

Day 12 Pampa TX (112 miles)

The day started out in Dalhart TX - a cattle town.  It is not a bad town, but the smell of the cattle feed lots permeates everything.  It smells like a stale, wet diaper.  Not quite nauseating; but definitely not pleasant. 

The hotel was a little old, but the staff were great.  We had water, fruit, snacks, rags (for cleaning our bikes) and even wine waiting for us upon arrival.  The bad thing about the hotel is that it is right next to the railway tracks.  And the tracks cross over a major road right by the hotel.  And the trains are required to blow their whistle when approaching the crossing.  Our rooms would actually shake with each passing train and the whistle blow would wake the dead.  The trains ran all through the night.  Funny thing is... I didn't hear any riders complain about it.  We all talked about it waking us up throughout the night, but we're so exhausted that we're all right back to sleep.

Luggage load was a 6:15am.  Considering the time change, we were loading a full two hours earlier than yesterday.  When I opened my door at 6:10am, I immediately noticed four things: 1) it was pitch black, 2) it was cold, 3) the wind was howling, and 4) nobody had changed that baby.  We loaded our luggage and walked our bikes a quarter mile down the road to a restaurant - no riding in the dark. 

By the time we finished breakfast, it was light and everyone was ready to go.  That's when I realized that I had two left gloves. You just don't ride without gloves - mainly because your palms will blister by the time the day is finished.  Mike let me use a pair of his, and I was able to leave with the group.  We almost immediately separated into two groups, and I was with the faster group.  Jay led us out, but set a pace that no one was able to match.  Finally, Russ took off after him - not sure if he ever caught him though.

The rest of us (there were nine) formed a double-line circular paceline.  We had an incredible crosswind, and this type of paceline reduced its impact.  There are two lines of cyclists riding in parallel.  The line on the left is slightly faster that the line on the right.  Once the first rider on the left passes the first rider on the right, that rider peels off and joins the line on the right.  About that same time, the last rider on the right moves to the left line and accelerates.  When the paceline is working right, it is a constant circular motion of cyclists and looks like a dance.  We were able to travel much faster than anyone of us could on our own.  We could only have this double line of cyclists because Texas has a very wide shoulder. Unlike smaller pacelines, the spacing between cyclists increases - we're not two inches apart; more like a foot or more.

We rode in this pattern for nearly two hours.  It is a great way to travel, but requires tremendous teamwork and concentration.  We were making great time, and I was able to hang with these fast riders.  I don't know if it is the new wheels or if I've just rode myself into shape, but I'm riding much faster.  We were traveling at about 25mph - a great speed considering the 20-30mph crosswinds.  When we pulled into the first SAG, Jay was there (see below) and said "Way to go dude!  If you come in first again today, we're going to make you pee in a cup." (a drug testing reference)

After the first SAG, we started back on pacelining.  Unfortunately, we had lost Wolfgang and Nico.  Both have their bikes set up for time trialing (i.e., solo riding) and wanted to ride on their own.  We were down to a group of seven, and the work was a bit harder.  I was able to hang, but the speed was picking up.  Once we hit about 31mph, my left thigh was starting to give out on me.  I had to drop back.  However, I had ridden with these guys for over 50 miles and was very pleased.

Right about this point, tragedy struck in that my Garmin Cycle Computer's display mysteriously cracked.  The computer was a gift from work (thanks Crystal and Sheila), and is a slick piece of machinery.  It shows my speed, my cadence, my heartrate, rate of climb, altitude and a lot of other cool statistics.  Furthermore, after the ride you download to your computer and the GPS element lets you see where you rode.  It does so much more than I just described, and it is my favorite toy.  I believe I can get it fixed, but I will probably need to ship it back to Garmin.  Bottom line: I will not know how much climbing we've done each day.  I have a simplier back-up computer (the one in yesterday's pic) that will get me through the ride.

Scenery today was just vast open pasture land.  We're starting to see oil rigs and modern windmills. Wind today was a real problem.  If it wasn't a crosswind, it was a headwind.  Like I said, it was blowing at 20-30mph ... and we had gusts of 50mph.  The toughest section was the last ten miles into the lunch SAG (at mile 82).  I caught up with the fast group (they had stopped for something or another).  The paceline was gone; the wind was just too tough and pushing everyone around.  Plus, we had hit the big climbs of the day.  So we were spread out over about a two mile stretch.

After lunch, it was just a 30 mile ride to the motel.  I started out with Jay and Karen, but just couldn't keep up the pace when we hit the first hill.  I just don't have a climber's physique.  I need to be 30 pounds lighter.  While we're at it, can I be a bit taller as well?  Don't think either is going to happen.  Mike joined up with Jay and Karen, and while I couldn't keep up with them, I could keep them in my sights.  They paused for some photos, and the four of us rode into Pampa together.  It is another pretty clean agricultural town.  I peeled off a couple of miles before the motel when I saw an ice cream parlor. 

I didn't come in first, but I was very pleased with today's ride.  It was great riding in the group.  I know I keep saying it, but... they're all a great group of people.  I was with a great group last year, and I lucked out again this year.

Tonight, we're at another Best Western and again they had drinks and rags waiting for us.  A bunch of us had dinner next door at a steak place where we learned that this horrible wind is a constant.  The staff there said that they get used to it.  Tomorrow, it is another "short" day.

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. 

Day 10 Tucumcari NM (112 miles, 3547 feet)

Overnight low in Las Vegas was 23 degrees.  Not sure what that is in Centigrade, but it's gotta be about absolute zero.  By the time we loaded our luggage, it had warmed to a balmy 35 degrees.  I had broken out the leg warmers; I had hoped they were gone for good.  After yesterday's killer ride, I was moving pretty slow.  About two-thirds of the riders had left the hotel before I got on the road.

Today is a route for the navigationally-challenged.  Left out of motel; two miles up the road and another left; then straight.  That's it. 

I've read various ABB blogs about this day's ride for years.  It is supposed to be one of the best rides on the whole trip. I'd say it pretty much lives up to the hype.  And yet it was nothing like I was expecting.  Shortly out of town, you're into vast prairie country.  No trees... just grasslands for miles in all directions.  It is a climb at first; then it levels off after about 20 miles. 

You come around a corner and realize that you've been riding on top of a plateau and the bottom-land opens up beneath you.  It is a killer descent on a smooth road with curves and steep drop-offs on your right.  Unlike the similar descent on Day 4, it is not absolutely freezing and the roads don't have ice.  So, you're able to open it up.  Top speed was 46mph.  I'm still in search of the elusive 50mph.

Before I can get off the plateau, the headwinds start.  The lunch SAG isn't until about 80 miles into the day.  That was a long, long way to lunch with those headwinds.  You've heard me complain about them for the past few days.  I have found websites that give all sorts of metrics on how much power is wasted in headwinds.  But instead of boring you with all that, let me just say that on a day like today, it takes about 30% off of your speed.  So if you would normally be going 18mph, now you're going 12mph.  It really lengthens the day and builds character. 

We also had a pretty rough road surface.  In south Georgia, this would be the road surface used on very secondary roads.  A "chipped seal" is what I believe it is called.  It is a bit like riding over mini-cobblestones.  Tends to jar the rider and slow down the bike.  You could really tell the difference on the few concrete bridges we crossed.  All of a sudden, it would be like you're riding on a cloud; and moving fast.

About five miles from the lunch SAG, the road changed direction and the surface improved considerably.  We now had a tailwind and a smooth ride.  Whoa... what a difference.  I flew into the SAG all smiles and upbeat.  After the SAG, it was a strong crosswind.  In some places, I had to ride with my bike tilted towards the wind to keep from being pushed into the road.  About ten miles from town, the road surface was covered in small gravel (on the shoulder) and the wind was back into my face.

The town of Tucumcari is another small town through which Route 66 passes.  I've seen throughout New Mexico that they are trying to revitalize towns along Route 66 and the road is actually called "Historic Route 66".  Albuquerque had huge Route 66 neon signs that spanned over the road.  Anyway, Tucumcari is a pretty clean place; not prosperous by any means, but tidy.  There is an interesting story on how the town got its name.  The following is from English Mike's blog (Mike rode last year's Fast America Ride) and is used with his permission.

An Indian Chief had a beautiful daughter called Cari. Two young Braves wanted to marry her and the Chief decided that they should fight to the death for her hand in marriage. One was the love of her life, called Tucun (don't know what the other was called, Roy, Adolf) Anyway they had the fight and Tucun was killed. Seeing her one true love dead, Cari killed herself and fell onto the body of Tucun. Hence they called the town Thatdidntgotoowelldiditsville. This was later shortened to Tucuncari. Such a pity he wasn't called Cashun.

I really like this hotel.  It is a Best Western and they had rags (for cleaning the bikes) and a food spread waiting for us.  And it took the woman at the front desk about ten seconds to check me in.  After riding 112 miles, that's what you really want.  Despite all the wind, I made really decent time and arrived here right about 3pm.  What a change from yesterday.  
 
I'm suffering a bit from sensory-overload.  This ride today was truly gorgeous, but I've seen so many great things (especially here in NM) that it is hard to remember them all - let alone describe them.  I was thinking as I was riding today that if I only rode yesterday's or today's ride, I'd be talking about it for years to come.  But when it comes on the tail of eight days of 100+ miles each, it becomes something of a blur.
 
Tomorrow is supposed to be short - only about 100 miles. And we're supposed to have kickin' tailwinds.  I've heard that before.