I've been looking forward to the long weekend as the opportunity for three long rides in a row. Since I'm unfamiliar with the area, I checked the wind direction and mapped out what was to be a 70 mile route with the first half more or less into the wind so I could blow back home. At 9 on Saturday morning I headed out the door armed with sufficient liquid and food to make it back and my directions written large enough for me to read without my glasses. The first 15 miles of my ride were uneventful -- other than my legs were tired. I had ridden 35 hard miles on Friday night finishing about 8:30. Now on short rest, I didn't have much umph. Hills were hard work as was going into the wind. As I rolled up to a stop sign in a small town my phone rang. It wasn't a number I could recognize between the inability of my eyes to focus well and the brightness of the sun but I answered anyway. I was delighted to hear the voice of one of my French friends on the other end. I rolled my bike over to the shade and stood talking with her for over 20 minutes. She made no comment about the traffic noise which, at times, prevented me from hearing all she said.
I once again headed south, into the wind, and soon turned off the main road which led me up and down some short but steep hills. Three or four miles later I came to a T with road construction as far as I could see in both directions. I had no choice but to head back the way I came. The previous intersection left me with the option of heading back up and down the hills (the long way around) or cutting across to the main road on a mile of gravel. I opted for the gravel. Thankfully it was mostly downhill so I didn't need to pedal much. I didn't feel safe with my shoes clipped into the pedals since my back wheel threatened to go out from under me several times. I managed to stay upright and was thankful to be back on pavement. I bravely headed on into the wind until I heard a metallic ping followed by a clunk, clunk. I stopped and discovered a nail sticking out of my back tire. Another break from pedaling, not near as pleasant as the first one, spent changing my tire with no shade in sight.
Grateful to be off again, I was soon able to turn east and get some relief from the wind. However, as I looked at the miles adding up on my counter, and assessed my legs and energy level, I knew I wasn't going to make it all the way around my planned route. However, I didn't know for sure which road heading north would lead me to where I wanted to go. I eventually ended up in a town where I saw a man loading some things into his pickup. I pulled up and asked him for the shortest paved route back to the town where I live. At that point I had gone 57 miles. My stomach had been rebelling since 1 bite of an energy bar several miles back. Once I was back in familiar territory, I took a short break in a park, hoping my stomach would settle down. It did, until I was back on my bike. Thankful for the wind at my back, I managed to keep the legs going the rest of the 73 miles home.
Sunday morning, I did an easy 25 miles. I say 'easy' because I still didn't have much pop in my legs. I was tempted to take Monday off, but figured however many miles I put in today would pay off in a month or so. So off I went, armed with another set of directions that wouldn't take me as far afield since thundershowers were in the forecast. Thankfully there was only a light breeze but it was hot and humid. At times my counter read 90˚. After our late spring I'm not used to that. Though my legs were feeling better, I decided to cut my ride short from what I'd planned, thinking that 50 miles was enough. I did have other things to do before the end of the day and the clouds looked rather menacing.
Tomorrow (Tuesday) = a day of rest.
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