A Ride to Remember, Part II

DAY 2

"It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." And 5:30 comes early.

It's hard to say why Saturday was both maddening to me and yet wonderful at the same time. Many frustrating events took place, both for me and for the ride as a whole. There were many, many flat tires spread out among the riders, some riders got lost, it was the hottest of the three days, and the riders were so spread out throughout the route that the support vehicles had trouble keeping up with all of us from beginning to end.

But allow me to start from the beginning...
Beth woke me up around 5:40. I didn't get up right away because I knew what was coming: more biking. Once I did finally get up, I grabbed a quick shower just to help wake me up, then headed off to breakfast. Remembering my extreme appetite of the previous day, I ate as heartily as I dared to start me off for the day. I probably should have gotten up earlier, or at least hopped out of the bed at the actual time I was awakened, because I felt kind of rushed once I got back to the hotel room. I had to repack all of my stuff I had strewn about from the previous day, refill my water bottles, put on sunscreen, and take everything down the elevator to the lobby by 7:00. Somehow I succeeded, though sluggishly. All the riders got together and pictures were snapped of the faithful pedalers before the start of the day's ride.

Over all, I was very surprised when I awoke to find that my legs felt okay. They were a little sore, but not so much that every stroke I took that morning was a painful one. And my face looked much less red that morning, which was a small comfort in itself. In fact, aside from being ridiculously sleepy, I felt great! I didn't have time to finish off my cup of coffee for the morning, so the caffeinated energy kick I was counting on didn't occur. When we started rolling away, I remembered my mistake of pushing too hard at the beginning of yesterday's ride and decided to take it easy for this day's beginning. I dropped to the back of the pack and pulled out my iPod once we hit the country roads. A nice country stroll with my earphones in place seemed to be just what I needed to get myself out of my sleepy funk.

I coasted along, enjoying watching the sun rise over the countryside and was able to remind myself of the reasons I wanted to do this ride in the first place: 1. Raise money and support for the Alzheimer's Association - they need our help! 2. Test my physical limits with my greatest cycling challenge yet. 3. Enjoy a ride across South Carolina - this chance doesn't come often. Once you get your priorities straight again and forget the possible pain and sacrifice that accompany them, life (and a bike ride) gets a little brighter.

Along I go, just pedaling to my own tempo. I don't see another cyclist anywhere in front or behind me and I have no idea where I am in comparison with the rest of the group. That didn't bother me; I just wanted to set the scene for you for what happened next. I was on a busy road (I don't know which one, I'd have to check the cue sheet) with traffic constantly coming both ways. The white line on this road was one of those rumble-strip-things. Honestly, I don't know what they're called, but they make a loud noise when your car goes over them in case you've fallen asleep and need to wake back up again in order to continue driving. I was not asleep anymore and thus had no reason to be too close to the line and hit the rumbly things. So, I stayed just to the left of the white line, trying not to get too far into the middle of the lane so the cars coming my way would have no trouble passing me. Lo and behold, I found out that the midlands of SC also has stupid drivers. In fact, if there were such an award, I would give this driver the "I thought I had seen everything; but you win!" award. A red, Ford F-150 coming towards me in the opposite lane decided to pass the car in front of him on a double yellow line. To the best of my current knowledge, this move is still illegal in South Carolina. Not only does he decide to make said illegal move, he decides to do it just as I am passing by at the same time. So he "politely" blinked his headlights at me to order me out of the way so he could pass someone on a double yellow line. You must understand that these cars were going much faster than I was and this whole ordeal happened in a matter of seconds. I had but moments to figure out what the heck the F-150 driver was doing, why he was blinking his lights at me, and get out of the way in time for him to pass me and the other car at the same time. Now, let me remind you that the white line was a rumbly one and in passing over it to get out of the way of the truck, I was lucky I didn't go flying off my bike from the sudden jolt of the raised bumps. It would be similar to hitting a rock in the middle of the path after sharply steering your bike to the right in order to avoid an oncoming wall that seemingly appeared out of nowhere...

Or something like that.

Either way, I was a bit shaken up by the incident and very angry at the total disregard for the traffic laws of South Carolina, my right to be on the road as a cyclist, and my daily wish to stay alive a little longer. Fortunately, I serve a big God and was glad He was around to give me enough wits to get out of the way fast. That was that and on we go...

At the next rest stop I fumed to the support staff about the above incident, scarfed down some Fig Newtons, once again sprayed on sunscreen, and went on my way. Soon after that, I noticed the Ambulance pass me on their way down the route. The EMTs for the day were friendly fellows and they waved as they went by (oh yeah, the Ambulance EMTs changed each day of the ride... forgot to tell you that). I continued following the path and eventually caught up with the Ambulance. When I finally did, I began to notice they were traveling quite slowly, always staying just ahead of me. Whenever a car came around me, the ambulance pulled off to the side and let the car pass them too. Every time I struggled up a hill, they would drive out of sight until I got to the top of the hill where I would see them waiting for me at the bottom. Then, as soon as I got close again, they would begin coasting forward as well, remaining within view but never close enough to draft off of. (Dang.) This situation seemed so bizarre to me (especially after having the Ambulance trail me the previous day), I was starting to wonder if perhaps Beth or the other support staff had given them explicit instructions to stick with me because of the crazy story I had just fumed about at the previous stop. But, after about an hour of following the Ambulance, I had gotten used to their presence and actually began to appreciate their indirect company. I didn't feel quite as lonely with them around, and was also beginning to see and appreciate the humor of my now 2-day personal relationship with the Ambulance.

They kept up with me to the next rest stop and decided to follow behind me after that one instead of being my guide. That was fine with me! Within about thirty minutes of that stop, I saw a lone rider in red traveling within view a good ways ahead of me. I caught up with him faster than I thought I would because he had to stop on the side of the road. I rode up next to him, checking to see if he was okay and realized it was Randall. He was fine - his chain had popped off for the second time that day and he was putting it back on. When I looked back to see where my Ambulance had gone, I saw the two guys walking toward us while the Ambulance itself was sitting running on the side of the road. Randall was back on his bike by then, so I yelled back to the EMTs that his chain had just come off and we were fine. They smiled, waved in acknowledgment, and headed back to their vehicle. "Haha," I thought, "I like these guys!" I hopped back on my own noble steed and chased after Randall.

Now there were three RTR vehicles riding along in our very own caravan - two bikes and an Ambulance. Fortunately, on this long, hot second day, the support staff had posted rest stops every ten miles. (I didn't know until later how difficult this had been for them as we were all spread out from beginning to end and some SAG vehicles were out and about looking for the few groups of riders who had gotten lost, making them short on vehicles and support volunteers for the rest stops.) Ten-mile rest stops were nice because it was a steamy day and hydration and sunscreen were imperative, it helped the miles tick by a little faster, and, if you've been riding alone for awhile, it was nice to have some human contact every 45 minutes or so.
Randall, the Ambulance, and I came upon one such stop about twenty minutes after we had all gotten together and pulled off for some much needed refreshment. I don't remember what mile it was (maybe around 40?), but I do remember being surprised at how good I felt. My legs still felt strong and I was much more awake now than I was at the beginning of the day. Also, it was about the halfway mark of the second day, so that technically meant we were halfway through the whole ride... right? Right! If I've made it halfway through, then I know I can finish this thing! And, as a bonus, I had heard stories of flat lands where bikes go fast and riders don't have to work as hard to power them. Being from the Upstate, I was skeptical of such rumors, but willing to accept their validity as soon as I could experience them.
At this same stop, one of the friendly Ambulance fellows inquired whether I was bothered by them following me. I told him it was fine as long as it wasn't because I looked sickly and/or dehydrated. He assured me it was not for that reason, but because when they saw I was riding alone, they were worried for my safety as a loner and decided to stay with me unless they were called elsewhere. Ah, human kindness still exists. I thanked him and assured him I wasn't bothered by their presence. Not anymore, anyway. :)

I refilled my bottles, put on my sunscreen, and downed a pack of Skittles (which you can afford to do if you're riding 85 miles) before we set off again. I was grateful for the company of Randall and for my body's strange enthusiasm for riding more miles. I actually felt happy about the day's ride and eager to get going again (must be those endorphins I'm always hearing about). Of course, that was then, and the day was not yet over. Not even close.

A few interesting events happened in the next 23 or so miles. Firstly, and worst of all, I lost my cyclocomputer (may it rest in peace). Yes, this is the very same computer I had just bought Monday specifically for this ride because my old one was messed up. I failed to mention that the screen had fallen off its handlebar mount the previous day, but it was recovered without incident. It apparently couldn't hang on this day either, though I don't know why. I hadn't hit a bump or anything to jar it - it was just a bad mount set-up, I believe. Anyway, I heard it drop and immediately squeezed my brake levers hard, making them squeal. I did a u-turn and stood on the opposite side of the road, having to wait for two cars to pass before I could try retrieving it. I saw it laying close to the white line and prayed the cars wouldn't hit it. The first car went by fairly slowly, probably wondering why I was just standing on the side of the road staring at them as they went by, and evaded my poor computer. The second car came flying by, and as it did, I witnessed my computer screen go flying too.

CRAP.

I sighed an anticipatory angry sigh and crossed the street to assess the damage.

CRAP AGAIN.

The screen was chipped and cracked and looked like one of those psychological ink blot pictures.
I was mad. I wanted to throw the screen as hard as I could into the field beside me, shout curses, and stomp my feet. But, as none of that seemed like it would help the situation and might alert the Ambulance people that something really was wrong with me, I just stared at the screen in disbelief for several seconds instead, then put it in my back pocket so I wouldn't have to see it again until the end of the ride.

I caught back up with Randall who had stopped when he heard my brakes squealing behind him, and explained what had happened. He then became our chief navigator and I was knighted our time keeper (it was all I could offer). We decided to work out a makeshift drafting system around that point, with each of us doing two-mile duty. I would lead the way for two miles, then drop back behind him while he led for two miles. The wind that day (and the next, for that matter) was pretty horrendous, so the leader of our two-man pack had a rough job. But it got us to the next stop safe and sound.

About the time my computer committed suicide, I started getting hungry. Not just, "Oh, I could eat lunch soon" hungry, but "Oh my gosh, I'm starving! When's the next stop??" hungry. Luckily, I had a Cliff bar in my pocket, so I munched on it 'til the next stop. Randall was really hungry too, and we both figured lunch had to be just around the next corner. We were both under the impression that lunch was to be given between the 50 and 55 mile markers and should be coming up soon.

We were wrong.

We found a rest stop waiting for us around mile 50. Just a quick stop, no lunch. We ate whatever they had laying around and refilled our bottles once again. We also took a slightly longer break under the shade of their tent because it was getting unbearably steamy outside. Also at this stop, one of the support people taped up my foot (there were no band aides) because I was developing a large blister on my right heel. Honestly, it only hurt when I walked, not biked; but, I let her tape me up anyway. I knew my sweat would render the tape useless sooner than later, but I figured it might last until at least lunch. By the way, "Where is lunch?!" I asked them. "Mile 63" was the answer. I noted that thirteen more miles was nearly another hour of riding and Randall replied that he didn't want to think about it in those terms. Oh well, here we go. Back to two-mile duty.

But it wasn't another hour. Once we left the rest stop in Pelion, we experienced one last big hill and then the landscape miraculously turned flat. That was a miracle in timing because without lunch we were running on fumes, and it's hard to make it up hills on only fumes Flat land is so much easier!

We finally made it to the town of North, mile 63 on our route, and refueled at their town hall. I ate a turkey sub, a bag of chips, and several pieces of watermelon for lunch. I also downed a whole bottle of Gatorade. Feeling much better after that, we rode off again with the knowledge that we only had a little over 20 miles left to go that day.

Our two-man team had grown to three after lunch and we drafted our way to the next stop which seemed to come out of nowhere. The roads were significantly flatter by then and our average speed had increased. The young ladies at the stop told us we had less than ten miles to go... Ten miles is nothing, let's go!
Somehow along the way, Geoff (our third man) and I got separated from Randall and we went the last five or so miles alone. I felt the need to keep up with someone since I no longer had a computer of my own to help guide me. We ended up riding along a very heavily trafficked road, complete with a Wal-Mart and several restaurants dotting the sides. This was probably the one road of the entire ride that I hated. We were surrounded by cars giving off hot fumes on an equally hot road on the hottest day of the ride. We stopped at red light after red light, hoping the cars would see us and not try to hit us out of spite. The worst part of the worst road was having to cross two lanes of traffic to get in the left turning lane. Just because you stick your left arm out to inform the drivers you want to turn left doesn't mean they care. Sometimes it's a particularly dangerous sport.

Don't worry; we made it. Only three miles left to go. Just keep pedaling. Let the sweat drip off your face because there's not a dry spot left on you to use to wipe it off. Breathe in, breathe out. We saw a water park on our right and I shouted to Geoff, "That's not fair!" He responded with a tired chuckle.

Then we finished! Sorry, that was a little anti-climactic. But we did, once again to the cheers of the riders who came before us. I propped my bike up against the hotel wall, shed my helmet, unzipped my jersey as far as it would go, and went in search of my flip-flops. I noticed that all the riders were still hanging around outside, mostly by the pool. In fact, many of them had freed themselves from their jerseys and just jumped in with their cycling shorts. I quickly surmised that our rooms weren't ready yet and everyone was just trying to cool off while waiting. I also noticed one rider sitting against a column, shaking. The Ambulance was nearby and the medics were setting up the stretcher thing to put her in the Ambulance. She had apparently just recently been put on a gluten-free diet which hadn't suited her well that day. She was very dehydrated and at a lack of adequate calories. After about two hours, they had nursed her back to health and she was able to go on and finish the ride the next day. Thank goodness for the Ambulance!

I didn't see Beth around, so I grabbed a bottle of water and laid down on the hotel sidewalk. I had to smile - I just completed two-thirds of the longest, hardest ride of my life thus far. And I felt great! In a manner of speaking. My legs were tired, but not shot. My back and neck were sore, but they could rest. I was hot, but in the shade cooling off. The only part of me that was in dire pain was my bottom. It had now endured twelve hours of sitting on a tiny seat being chafed by lycra. Poor bum.

Now, to speed things up a bit, here's more of a summary format of the rest of the evening...

1. Beth and I had some trouble getting our reserved room, but it all worked out in the end.
2. I took a shower - not as sunburned today.
3. Hungry again; ate half a sub and two bags of chips.
4. Watched TV while waiting around for supper.
5. Went to supper at 5:30; ate at the All-Star Deli; was really hungry; good food!
6. Went by Wal-Mart with Beth and Cindy after supper to buy a new cyclocomputer. Again.
7. Installed the computer, inflated bike tires, prepared everything for the next day.
8. Still felt good and excited, so I played cards with Beth until 10:00 that night.

Even Beth observed that I didn't seem nearly as tired that night as I had been the previous night. She was right! I was ready to finish off this epic ride and excited about doing so.

I slept well.. :)