This day’s riding was tough, especially since it
immediately followed the sweep day from hell. The first third of each ride tends
to be my favorite, because the morning glow over everything makes the scenery
dazzle, I’m feeling rested, and the heat and wind are bearable. There were
rolling hills that were spectacular. After first lunch, things changed. The
rider I was with began to feel sever stomach issues, and was crying and vomming
(what we call vomiting here, but more on that later) all while biking. She
pulled over and I called the van for her to be picked up. The van soon came,
and then I was on my own. The terrain: one straight road for fifty miles. Only
huge trucks passed. A lot of the trucks were loaded up with cows. On the left was
a long series of factory farms, and I could hear pigs squealing. Because of all
of this, the road stunk and I was reminded why I’m vegetarian. The headwind
kept me, and most other riders, from going over 11 mph. This made an 80-miler
at least an 8 hour day, without breaks. The heat picked up quick en route to
Spearman, Texas. I got really bored on this road, and began reciting poetry.
I looked down and realized I had a flat on my back tire. The
only shade around was an abandoned grain feed with the word Monsanto on it. It
reeked, but I needed shade. I’m getting pretty quick at changing flats now, but
my pump was not cooperating. I thought I would have to ride the next 8 miles
into second lunch with a deflated tube, when Lacy rode by and let me use her
pump. Life saver.
Second lunch was free food at Dairy Queen. Huge mistake. Don’t
eat a bucket of ice cream in the middle of an 85 mile ride. We still had 27
miles to go. I tagged onto a group rolling out of second lunch, but I couldn’t
keep up, for I could only push against the wind at 7mph. Something in my mind
fell apart then as I watched everyone disappear to the vantage point. Then, I
accidentally reset my computer, wiping away any tracked progress of the
50-something miles I’d just completed. The temperature by this time, 3pm in
Texas, was at least 108. I thought maybe I’m struggling because of the rough
sweep day I’d had before. So I texted Marcus, “I don’t know if I can do this,
but I don’t want to call the van and be picked up.” Waiting a bit for a
response, I looked ahead and behind me. There
are no cars, no people, no intersections, no debris, no turns. I can probably
just close my eyes for a few seconds here and pedal… I opened my eyes and
realized I had to call the van then. I told Ethan that the landmark I am near
is where there are no landmarks. There was literally nothing around because I
was in the desert. I propped my bike against a telephone pole, and laid down on
the ground. I wrapped a bandana around my eyes and rested my head on my
backpack and actually forgot that I was laying in the desert at 3:30 in Texas
in 105+ heat.
Suddenly, I hear the amiable honking from the van as it
pulls off into the shoulder of the road. Emma hops out of the van and says, “Just
casually napping in the desert?” What I didn’t realize until after this ride
was the roads were not flat. They were actually a very low incline, and we had
been climbing the whole time, which is why I never coasted. I also didn’t
realize that so few people actually finished the ride – no more than ten riders
out of twenty eight made it into the host site. No one really wanted to talk
about biking at dinner.
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