3 Monster Days

Day 14 125 miles from Elk City to Chickaaha in 7:10 averaging 17.5 mph. Tough tough wind, and foolish Eric hangs with Darrell to start, then James, Norman, and Pat ... three of the fastest remaining riders. Just cooked me completely. Not a wise thing to do pre-145 miler. We cross into some beauty, some green, some wheat fields that are salve to the eyes. Quiet country roads to enjoy with scant traffic. We hit the half-way point today.

Day 15 A monstrous 145 miles from Chickasha to McAlester in 8:45 averaging 16.2 mph. I'm cooked, ready to serve. I come in near the end, a slow slow day in the saddle. Pat and I ride together and at the end he blasts off while I slow pedal the last 20. Did I mention I'm cooked?

Day 16 110 miles from McAlester to Ft. Smith, AR. in 6:45 at 16.4 mph. This was my signature day, the day I overcame huge. I've immense pride in the fact that I rode and completed this day.

I had a pile of great reasons to not ride today, to sag it in. My heart rate won't slow at night, I barely sleep and awoke with the fright of an image of me crumpling at the front of a 25 mph paceline and taking a group down with me. I needed a bag something fierce as I was totally depleted, but knew if I asked for one I'd be held out and there was a rest day after this 'short' 110 mile day. Darrell's death was hanging heavy on me. And it was raining wild. Lightening strikes, cold, and an awful road. Plenty reasons to pack it in, and all of them good ones. Yet I rode, and somehow completed the day.


And I've not yet written of the two who had heart attacks and had to leave the ride. Andrew was the toughest of this bunch. He was a monster on the bike, but the elevation and accumulation of so many miles took him down. Greg was in the hospital after day 15, the docs sent him home given his heart pains. So now 5 are gone, the ride seems like a bad Krakauer novel, and we're all feeling jinxed somehow. Enough drama, we just want to ride and enjoy.

So we rest in Ft. Smith, while it pours and thunders outside.