Steve, Peggy, Nelson, Ray, Greg, Paul, and I left Bolivar this morning at 6:30 am to ride Ray’s new St. Jo 125k permanent. This route an out and back that goes through Forestburg, then on to the turnaround control at St. Jo. It’s plenty dark at 6:30 am these days. Lights were definitely needed for the first miles.

It’s pretty steady elevation gain from Bolivar to Forestburg. I pushed pretty hard to keep from falling too far back, but lagged behind anyway. We made an unofficial stop at Forestburg, then rode on to St. Jo. There are some pretty tall hills between Forestburg and St. Jo, made even more scary by wildly driven trucks hauling some kind of wide load monstrosities. They looked poised to tip over at any second going down these hills. I didn’t see it, but heard that Ray got a closer look at one of them than he wanted.

Nelson had some bike issues starting in St. Jo. I struggled coming back on the hills to Forestburg, but there’s lots of downhill on the rest of the route, and I finally started to feel like I was moving decently. This was a truly beautiful day, mostly cloudy with a low in the upper 60’s and a high in the lower 80’s and not much wind, just great riding weather.

I was a tired camper by the finish, and a cheeseburger from the Valero that’s the start and finish control was very good. I finished in 5:35, ended up with 78.6 miles, and had an on the bike average of 16.8 mph. It was great company as usual with this bunch, thanks everyone. To rest and recover from this hard ride, I went home and hung a ceiling fan. Nothing like relaxing on a Saturday afternoon…

Between my move and the rain, my total riding mileage for the first 14 days of September was less than 60 miles. It was raining when I got home today, but I decided to ride anyway. If it’s never going to stop raining, I’ll ride in the rain. So I hopped on the SXP and took off.

I can get out of town quickly from my new place in Crowley, and I have worked out a 25 mile route for evening rides that I like (Greg, you’ll be happy to know that there are, indeed, some trailer houses on the route). You can see it on bikely here. It has a little over 800 feet of climbing, quite a bit more than the flat 25 mile Arlington route that I’m used to, but it’s not like I couldn’t use the extra hill work. It has even more blind turns than the new TTTT course, so it’s not a great speed route, but I still like the small county roads better than anything else. It’s going to be exactly 25 miles, if I can get to the point where I quit missing turns (got .2 in bonus miles today).

It starts with a mostly gentle incline for 5 miles, then has rolling hills until mile 18, then finishes with a long mostly downhill run. The elevation profile is shown below. Do you ever ride these county roads west of Burleson, DJ?

The rain was light, and on and off, for the first 12 miles, and the roads were wet enough in a few places to bother me a bit, but not too bad. Then the rain quit, and the pavement dried out very quickly. I thought I was going to get home dry, but it wasn’t to be. With 4 miles left, I was hit by sheets of rain while riding against a 30 mph north wind. I was drenched when I got home. If this had been the usual rain coming from the south and west, this route would have had me moving away from it at the end, but this strange backing in system had a howling NNE wind in my face at the end of the ride.

Why the title of this post? At mile 14.6, I hit a rock that squirted out to the side in such a way that it loudly hit the side of a pickup that had just passed by, coming from the opposite direction. I figure that’s revenge for all the rocks that trucks have hit me with over the years.

I moved from Arlington to Crowley this week. The big casualty of the move, it’s the legend of the headless cyclist.

Here’s the other main casualty of the move. When I take that tape off, the toenail will likely come with it. Ah, the joys of moving…

This is such an event, everyone should go ride it at least once. Wichita Falls really goes all out for it. There were apparently over 14,000 riders this year. I got there Friday afternoon and walked a few laps around the bike consumer show, after picking up my t-shirt and registration stuff. It’s always fun to wander through that much cycling stuff in one place.

The rec center outdid themselves again this year. This year, they added a pizza dinner Friday evening, and a breakfast with all kinds of choices for Saturday morning. The gym was cold, as usual, and I remember tossing the covers over my head a few times during the night, but I slept pretty well.

I took the usual 6:00 am route to the ride start, cutting across Wichita Street, which takes you to Scott Street in front of the start. There were no recumbents and tandems on the Wichita River bridge this year; everyone was lined up at the start line just before the bridge. As I approached the start from the front, it reminded me too much of a can of sardines, everyone was so packed in, so I turned around and made my start from Wichita Street.

This is a flat route and has great traffic control, so I always use it to try for my best century time of the year. I made it past the thickest bike traffic at the beginning ok, and settled in to see how fast I could finish the ride. I have been slower this year, and today was no different. The past two years, I made it past mile 90 before my average speed dropped below 20 mph. That happened today before mile 70.

But my real problems came at mile 74. I hadn’t made a stop yet, even though my arse had been hurting for more than a few miles by then. I think the filter foam seat cushion is completely worn out on the Roadster, and that may have a lot to do with what happened. At mile 74, I had the strangest muscle spasm I’ve ever had, such a serious cramp in my right arse cheek that I stopped. As soon as I stopped, a knot the size of a pear showed up, just beside my tail bone.

I layed on my side in the ditch with the ants and goatheads for 15 minutes, before a SAG vehicle showed up, policed me up, and hauled me back to the rest stop at mile 68. There, I was tortured by a massage therapist for 20 minutes or so, but the knot just wouldn’t go away completely. There was just no way I could sit on the bike, so I asked to be SAG’ed in, and was told a SAG truck was on its way, so I waited.

And waited and waited. Every 15 minutes or so, I would sit on the bike again to confirm there was no way I could ride it. Finally, at 12:45, after an hour and 15 minutes of waiting for the SAG truck, I sat on the bike and said, “Maybe”. So, off I went.

It’s a very different view of the ride that I got, riding during hours when I’m usually finished. I figured I’d better keep a moderate pace to better fend off further cramps, but even with a moderate pace, I was pretty much passing everything on the road. 6 hours after the start, it seems there aren’t too many racer types left on the course. Riding with the strong riders that I do, I feel pretty slow, but passing all these bikes today was a reminder that slow and fast are relative things.

And it’s a different style of riding at this time of the ride. Many riders just ride side by side, and are pretty much oblivious to anyone coming up behind them. You need to use the oncoming lane for most of the passing you do. And at every rest stop that I rode past, at least one rider pulled out directly in front of me.

By mile 98, I was starting to cramp pretty seriously again. When you cramp at mile 98, there’s only one thing to do. I stopped and had a free beer. Unfortunately, as soon as I stopped, the knot showed up again, and the beer wasn’t nearly enough to numb the pain as I took off again. But within a short distance, the cramp was better, and I was pretty sure I could finish.

When I crossed the finish line, I didn’t stop, for fear of a knot again. I just made a u-turn, and rode slowly back to the rec center. I ended up with 107.8 miles (rode from mile 68 to mile 74 twice), and a total time of 7:50. That likely qualifies this as the slowest century I’ve ever done.

The last few miles, there were more than the usual number of comments about how comfortable my bike looked, and offers to trade bikes. But they didn’t bring the smile to my face that they usually do, because on this day, my arse was likely hurting just as much as their’s was.

14,000 riders at the start.

31 riders turned out for this 200k brevet. We left out of Lynn Creek Marina at Joe Pool Lake at 6:30 am. The first 51 miles of this ride is mostly elevation gain to Rio Vista, and against the kind of south wind we had today, is really tough. I rode out with the intention of trying to stay with a group of riders for a little help in the wind as much as I could, but was dropped pretty quickly by every group, so was on my own for most of this stretch. You have to be able to hang onto a group on the hills, and I have a tough time doing that. Once I was out in the wind, there’s no way I was going to catch anyone.

I did manage to ride some with Steve, Peggy, Mark M, and a few others from before Venus to most of the way to Alvarado, but on the first hills of CR 401 after Alvarado, I was dropped and riding straight into the wind.

I was even more discouraged when I turned onto FM 916 at mile 37, and found it was new boulderseal all the way to Rio Vista. I slowed down on this stretch. Between fighting the wind and boulderseal, and thinking I had probably put out too much effort early in the ride trying to stay with other riders, easing up seemed like a good idea on this stretch. It’s really hard to ride an easy pace against the wind on boulderseal, though. You seem to be getting nowhere. I really felt slow, like I had no strength at all, and couldn’t keep up with anyone. Looking back, I think it was just the wind, and the fact that there were a bunch of strong riders on this brevet.

I didn’t make a stop until the first control at Blum, at mile 57. I left this control with a group again, but again was soon off the back. At Covington, mile 69, the route turns south on SH 171, and it’s a tough 4 miles to Osceola straight against the wind. It was on this stretch that I had started to crater the last time I rode this route, from too much effort with a low tire against the wind. Today, I paced myself on this stretch.

At mile 73, as I got ready to turn east on FM 934, I saw Steve, Peggy, and Greg coming from the opposite direction and also turning onto FM 934. I pulled up along side Steve and told him that if he would just miss enough turns, I thought I might could keep up with him. After Itasca at mile 78, it’s on to Orphan Hill. I took my time spinning up this hill. Rio Vista Rumble isn’t a route with a brutal amount of climbing, but the toughest hills are all after mile 80, and it was starting to get very hot. Managing my effort seemed like a good idea for these hills.

I pulled into the Maypearl control at mile 93 at 12:47 pm. In spite of my inability to keep up with anyone, and not feeling very strong, 93 miles in 6:17 isn’t all that bad, and the idea that I might be able to complete this 200k in less than 9 hours started to creep into my head. I had not managed a 200k in less than 9 hours since having my lung sliced and diced on, and this seemed like a worthy goal and accomplishment for the day if I could do it. But, there were tough climbs up Old Buena Vista Road and Singleton Road waiting, and I knew I’d need to not blow up on these hills to have a chance.

I needed a good cool off break at Maypearl, and some time with my shoes off, and it was 1:08 pm when I left the control. Still, if I didn’t completely crater on the last part of the ride, under 9 looked possible. Old Buena Vista Road is always tough for me, and when I got a hint of a leg cramp on the hill, in spite of how slowly I was climbing, I started to have my doubts about how much I had left. But after an also slow trip up the Singleton Road hill, I felt good, and I started making calculations about how much time it would take me to finish as I rode toward Midlothian.

On the downhill stretch toward Midlothian (I made it past that circle driveway without stopping this time, Nelson), I felt great, so I started to push a little more as I rode through Midlothian, still trying to ride within myself well enough to finish strong. As I approached the turnaround at Mt Lebanon Road, under SH 67 at mile 114, with only a short stretch against the wind remaining before an easy downhill then flat finish, I was thinking that I was going to get this done. As I rode under the underpass on the turnaround, I was surprised to find Steve, Peggy, Greg, and Mark stopped here.

I stopped for just a few seconds, then continued on to try and complete my quest. The rest of the group started up again just after I did. I really pushed hard against the wind on the short stretch before the turn onto Lake Ridge Parkway (Steve easily caught me, anyway), knowing that it was all big downhills and flats after that.

But if I thought this was going to be an easy finish, I was seriously mistaken. At 30 mph going downhill on Lake Ridge at about mile 116, when I hit a bump, my seat reclined more. When I hit another bump, it reclined even more. I could hardly reach either the pedals or the handlebar. Steve and I stopped at the bottom of the hill, and I saw that my seat clamp had moved, but didn’t really find the problem until a stop a half mile further along.

My seat recline system on the rear seat stays had collapsed, and there was nothing keeping the seat from reclining onto the tire. I had always wondered if the little pneumatic cyclinders I had used for this were strong enough. This wasn’t exactly their intended application. They lasted for thousands of miles, but on this day, they were done. I didn’t see a ready fix, so I got back on the bike to try and finish the ride. The only way I could ride was by pulling myself forward enough with the handlebar to keep my back off the seat. I sat on the very front edge of the seat to help rock the seat forward, and thus take less effort to keep myself pulled forward. This is not an easy way to ride a Corsa.

Another mile or so down the road, Steve pointed out to me that my Fastback bag was rubbing the rear wheel. I instinctively reached down to feel the bag over the wheel. Let me take a moment here to recommend against doing that. I decided that it hadn’t been a good idea right after my left ring finger hit the spokes, which promptly lopped a small chunk off the tip of my finger.

Now, I’m hanging on for all I’m worth, trying to keep my back off the seat, while bleeding all over the handlebar. Yes, just another easy finish to a randonneuring ride. And finish I did. I ended up with 124.8 miles, and finished in 8:44.

One last thing: why is it that the guys using GPS’s to navigate usually seem to get more bonus miles than anyone else on these rides?

This is NOT what you want your seat stays to look like after a ride.

Rio Vista Rumble route

Steve, Peggy, Nelson, upright rider William, and I rode out of Cleburne at 7:00 am this morning to do the Cleburne Goatneck 200k permanent. This route is an out and back from Cleburne to Glen Rose, then from Glen Rose to Bluff Dale, then back. I knew this would be a tough ride. The roads from Glen Rose to Bluff Dale were already pretty rough, and quite a bit of the roads from Cleburne to Glen Rose have just been re-paved with new boulderseal. The route has 7,500 feet of climbing with some pretty tough hills. As the elevation chart below shows, there aren’t many flat stretches. Add all that to a 100 degree afternoon, and you’re sure to have a tough ride.

My plan was to stay with a pace I could sustain, and not worry about trying to keep up with anyone, or even stay close. Steve had said that he and Peggy and Nelson weren’t going to be in a hurry, so I figured they’d probably be waiting for me at most of the controls. We stayed together at the beginning until the hills started to get tougher at around mile 11. By the time I started down Goatneck Hill at mile 17, there was no one in sight in front of me.

The new boulderseal started at mile 9 and went most of the way to Glen Rose. We regrouped at the control in Glen Rose at mile 37, and left together for Bluff Dale. I had everyone in sight in front of me until the tough climb up Dinosaur Hill at mile 43, and I was on my own again after that. As the chart shows, the real climbing begins on the trek from Glen Rose to Bluff Dale. I made a point of spinning up these hills and not getting carried away with my effort, and still felt good after the fast descent into Bluff Dale, the turnaround point at mile 64.

William DNF’d at Bluff Dale. I can’t remember exactly what he said hurt, but he had an event coming up and didn’t want to take a chance on injuring himself before it. Steve, Peggy, Nelson, and I left Bluff Dale together, but with the big climb that starts instantly at that control, and goes on for a couple of miles, I was by myself pretty quickly.

There are some great views on this part of the ride. Tall, rolling hills are everywhere. You could see where a recent fire had charred a lot of trees on Chalk Mountain Hwy. I huffed and puffed mostly at 4 mph up Dinosaur Hill at mile 85. It’s even tougher on the return leg. It was getting pretty hot at this point, and I kept pouring water on my arm coolers. That did seem to help.

I still felt good when I reached Glen Rose again at mile 91, although I did want to sit down long enough inside to get cooled off well. Steve, Peggy, and Nelson were already doing that, and said they didn’t mind staying longer while I cooled off. Everyone had gotten hot enough that when we left Glen Rose, the pace eased, and we rode together all the way to the New Hope Baptist Church, which was the starting point for past TTTT’s, and we stopped there for a break, at mile 110. Peggy was overheated, we were all hot and tired, with aching feet from all the rough roads.

It’s only 18 miles from the church to the finish, but it’s a tough 18 miles, with a climb up Goatneck Hill as soon as you leave the church, and mostly uphill riding to the finish. I still felt good at the stop, but knew my pace on all the climbing that was left would get me dropped, or hold up the group, so I took a shorter break than everyone else, and took off up Goatneck Hill, figuring everyone would catch me somewhere on the climbing.

With 5 miles to go, I was still riding alone. It seemed only fitting to finish together, and I started debating how to wait for everyone else. I was almost out of water, so stopping at a store had more appeal than just stopping in the shade and finishing my last bit of water. But the ride finishes on Nolan River Road, which really doesn’t have any stores before you reach town. I wasn’t sure if there was even a store before the finish. So, I just slowed my pace (pretty easily done, as tired as I was getting), and sure enough, just a couple of miles before the finish, Steve and Nelson caught up with me, and informed me that Peggy had had to give up on trying to finish on this brutal day, and stayed at the church (dangit, so sorry, Peggy!).

Steve, Nelson, and I pulled into the Cleburne control together to finish this epic ride at 6:13 pm, for an 11:13 ride time. Total miles were 128.5. Someone remind me again why it is that we like rides this tough…

From my Garmin:

Goatneck 200K

Greg and I left downtown Mansfield at 7:00 am this morning to ride my Mansfiend Mambo 128k permanent. It was obvious from the beginning that this humidity was going to have me wheezing more than usual, and I was slow right from the beginning. Greg said an easy pace ride was fine with him, so we took our time as we headed southwest toward Rio Vista.

We stopped at a store at mile 19 just west of Alvarado. The weather radar on their tv caught my attention. It showed a line of storms approaching Fort Worth and Denton from the west. It looked like we might be just south of all the rain, so we rode on, hoping to stay dry (at least as dry as a bike rider can stay on a humid day like this).

We turned onto FM 3136 at mile 20, and wouldn’t you know it, the entire 6 mile stretch of this road that the route travels is now fresh boulderseal. The closer we got to Rio Vista, the darker the northern sky got. There was obviously some serious rain north of us. We thought we might be able to dodge all the showers, but just 3 miles short of the Rio Vista control, the downpour started. We took shelter on a porch for a few minutes until the rain let up, then rode on.

When we left Rio Vista to ride 6 miles east on FM 916, we discovered that, you guessed it, that entire stretch is also now fresh boulderseal. If we thought our complaints with the condition of the roads were over, we were mistaken. When we turned left at mile 56 on CR 204, we discovered that it had had fresh gravel spread on it, but the new sealer hadn’t been applied yet. Right where the loose gravel was the worst, I encountered two large dogs who easily caught me, with my slow speed in the gravel, and seemed determined to dine on bike rider. I believe it was the first time I have ever stopped and charged a dog, brandishing my bike as a weapon, and it was an effective tactic.

At the next control in Venus at mile 67, we ran into Jerry Trimble and some FWBA riders having lunch. We chatted for a few minutes, then rode on against the north wind, noting how hot and humid the afternoon had become. We finished at 1:45, for a total of 79.8 miles, and total time of 6:45. After a very unhealthy lunch at a nearby DQ, I headed home. Despite the rain and road challenges of the day, it was a fun ride. Thanks for joining me, Greg!

I headed down to Cleburne this morning, to ride the 69 mile route at Goatneck. Like most rides like this, this one was crowded at the beginning, especially with how far back I started, and so it was a bit slow the first few miles, before things started to thin out enough for me to be comfortable speeding up. It’s a pretty hilly route for a hill slug like myself, but it’s a fun ride with great scenery. I was taken with how low the Paluxy River was; that’s the lowest I’ve ever seen it. But the Brazos was flowing nicely. There was a stretch of new chipseal on the 69 mile route, but most roads were, as Robert said, in great shape. And the traffic control was great.

It was the usual challenges of riding among thousands of uprights on hills. I would pull out and pass everyone on the downhills, then watch most of them pass me on the uphills. I didn’t stop until after Glen Rose, at around mile 40. Greg was at the stop, but I only talked to him for a second before getting in line for the porta potties. After a quick pit stop and downing two bananas, I checked how long the lines were, waiting for water, and decided to ride on. I had planned on making this my only stop, but now would need to stop again for water.

At the mile 50 rest stop, just before the Goatneck Hill climb, I stopped, and found a woman waiting with a pitcher of water, so it was a quick Camelbak fill up, and I was on my way. The south wind was picking up a lot by the time I reached Goatneck Hill, but you never seem to get much wind on the steep part of this hill. It was a bit hot climbing it, along with a couple of the other steeper hills, but I never felt overheated. In fact, I felt good the whole ride, but I did start to fade at the end.

I finished at 11:41, with a total of 69.3 miles, 3:58 on the bike time, and a 17.4 mph average. I put my bike up and headed for the shade to down some fluids and relax. I ran into Mark L and Dan D, but didn’t really see anyone else I knew. Mark and I talked and cooled off in the shade, and as it became obvious that no one else we knew was going to show up any time soon for a lunch trip, the nearby chicken sandwiches got to looking pretty good, Mark bought me one (thanks, Mark), and we sat and had a sandwich.

This is always a fun ride, and like all summer rides around here, there were plenty of people who seemed to be reaching beyond their capabilities mileage-wise, and some were in difficulty beside the road near the finish, even as early as I came in. Goatneck always seems to be well run and attended. I’m going to try and make this ride every year.

Goatneck route

At 7:00 pm yesterday evening, somewhere around 40 riders left out of Italy to ride the LSR night brevets. There were ride lengths of 216k and 300k. I rode the 216k length, as did Steve, Peggy, and Nelson. This route is an out and back that goes from Italy, southwest to Abbot, with the second control at mile 32, then on to Valley Mills, with the next control and turnaround at mile 68. The humidity was a bit high, and it was pretty warm before dark, but it turned into a beautiful night, dropping quickly into the 70’s.

With an easterly tailwind, Steve, Peggy, and Nelson set a pretty brisk pace. I was with them at times on this first leg, but spent more time off the back. Some elevation gain the last few miles before Abbot slowed me down some, but I still arrived at Abbot with an 18.7 mph average.

It was dark by the time we left Abbot, so after turning lights on, we rode on toward Valley Mills. The stretch from Abbot to the Brazos River crossing at mile 46 is rollers with a lot of elevation loss, so we were flying again. After crossing the Brazos, though, it’s a long uphill stretch until mile 64 where the highest elevation of the ride is reached. I fell well back on that stretch. After a couple of big downhills, the route crosses the Bosque River just past mile 66, and then it’s on into Valley Mills, where Sharon had the festive turnaround control set up at a baseball park.

We left Valley Mills to start the ride back, but just before I had ridden a half mile, I realized I had left my bottle of mix at the control, and turned around to retrieve it. So I rode this 36 mile stretch alone. It was a dark night, with just a sliver of moon showing up later, and I was surprised at how little wildlife I saw. The dogs, though, were definitely out. The climbs out of the Bosque River valley, then the Brazos river valley, are steeper on the return leg, and my legs were feeling the fatigue after making these climbs. The wind had swung to the south a little, but was still from the south south east, so much of the return ride was against a quartering headwind.

At mile 97, I hit an armadillo. I was climbing slowly (which is pretty much the only way I climb), probably a bit too close to the shoulder, when I saw with my peripheral vision, something coming onto the shoulder from the right just in front of me. There was no time to react. The armadillo ambled onto the road straight into my bike. My front wheel missed, but the rear wheel struck a glancing blow, instantly knocking the wheel a couple of inches to the left. I did not go down, and heard sounds of frantic paws on pavement after I hit it, so the armadillo may have survived his encounter with a Corsa.

The Abbot control is a truck stop on I-35W, at mile 103. You can see the I-35 traffic miles before you get to the control, and even see the truck stop lights from a long ways away, but it’s miles of an uphill false flat before you get there, and I just kept pedaling and wondering if I would ever get to that control. Steve, Peggy, Nelson, and Pat, an upright rider with them, were almost ready to leave when I got there. Peggy, Nelson, and Pat went ahead and left as I was finishing up my stop; Steve stayed back and rode the rest of the way in with me.

I like this route. The boulder seal on SH 34 and US 77 at the beginning and end is a beating (literally), and FM 56 north of Valley Mills has more high speed traffic than I would like, and little or no shoulders, but all the other roads are great. I was thankful that I turned off of FM 56 well before bar closing time.

I ended up with 137.1 miles, and finished at 4:30 am with a total time of 9:30. Steve, Peggy, and I grabbed a fast food breakfast before heading home. It was a fun ride, and as usual, the company was great. Thanks, Steve, Peggy, and Nelson.

Italy Night brevet route

Yesterday morning at 6:30 am, Steve, Peggy, Nelson, Ray, and I rode out of McKinney to do the Boomer 200k permanent. This route is an out and back that goes north to Tom Bean, then west to Collinsville, then back. Like these long rides have a way of doing, this one turned into an adventure.

We had a tailwind as we rode the rolling hills north to Tom Bean at mile 33. We rode a fairly easy pace, and it was a pretty much uneventful leg of the ride until a scary moment coming into Tom Bean when I had a close call with an old man in a Dodge pickup. He probably should have given up driving years ago, and on this morning, he passed me just before a stop sign, then cut in front and slammed on his brakes.

On we rode, turning west toward Collinsville. Just after we crossed US 75 in Howe at mile 42, we hit a 5 mile stretch of gravel. Worse, they had just poured water on it, so it was gravel over slick mud. By the time we got past this stretch, my bike was the dirtiest it’s ever been, with dried mud everywhere. It took serious cleaning on my bottle and Camelbak bite valve just to be able to drink from them again.

Scary moment number two came just a few miles before Collinsville. I was on Peggy’s wheel, when she looked over at horses on the right and made a comment about them. I turned my head to the right and looked at them. What I didn’t realize was that Peggy had stopped pedaling while I kept pedaling. By the time I turned my head back, I had pulled up halfway alongside Peggy, just a couple of inches to her left. When I saw how close we were, I was so startled that I jumped, wobbled the bike, and hit Peggy’s left arm with my big chainring (sorry, Peggy!).

Thankfully, neither of us went down, but when I looked at her arm, I saw a chainring tatoo, and a trickle of blood running down her arm. Once we got to Collinsville at mile 62, and she got her arm cleaned up, I could see that it was a scratch that wasn’t very deep. I was glad of that, but still felt bad. I’ve never hit anyone with a chainring before. It’s a reminder of how careful we need to be when we’re riding close together.

We headed back east toward Tom Bean. Steve and Peggy went off the front for a few miles, and we regrouped in Dorchester. Scary moment number three came just a couple of miles before Howe when, riding beside Steve, he did a big wobble as he was fighting off a bug of some kind. It was really getting hot by now, and we made a quick unscheduled stop in Howe. Ray was having trouble with his knee, and I stayed back near him most of this stretch. I didn’t mind the easy pace on this hot day. It appears that if I want to survive these really hot days without cratering myself, this is the kind of pace I need. I did kick up the pace for the last mile or so to Tom Bean, at mile 93.

The remaining 33 miles back to McKinney were brutal. It was against the wind, and another over 100 degree day where you could really feel the heat radiating off the pavement. And there are no stores on this stretch for an unscheduled cool-off stop. Steve and I rode off the front, and at mile 115 got a call telling us that Ray was at a Mexican restaurant at Westminster and mile 103, and was going to DNF. Steve and I rode on, and my energy level was fading fast as we neared the end of the ride, but we reached the last control in McKinney at 4:30 pm.

We debated the easiest way to get Ray and his bicycle back to the start. An Xstream won’t fit just anywhere. But Ray had given Nelson his keys, so we ended up just waiting on Nelson and Peggy, driving all the vehicles back to Westminster, and Ray treated us to dinner at the Mexican restaurant (thanks, Ray). I ended up with 126.3 miles, and finished in 10:00. Thanks for the great adventure, everyone, and I promise to try hard not to tatoo anyone else with my chainring in the future.