Ray is still cycling alongside us so a lot of contemplative silence on today’s ride. Black ribbon has been tied to our bikes which we’ll keep with us until the end and release into the Atlantic (although given Ray’s penchant for brightly-coloured cycle wear it should probably have been yellow ribbon).
On paper today’s ride – at 143 miles – was supposed to be the longest and, combined with 5,100 feet of climbing, one of the toughest. The “signature ride” as tour leader, Mike Munk had described it the evening before at the regular briefing meeting. But in practice it turned into a slightly less challenging 119 miles because we had to be bussed around a collapsed bridge.
A clear sign of how exhausted we are is that pretty much everyone fell asleep in the back of the support vehicle within a few minutes of climbing aboard. And now a sirloin steak, mashed potato and steamed broccoli later (not to mention the world’s hugest chocolate pudding) I can barely summon the energy to write this.
We’ve fallen into a cycle (if you’ll forgive the tired pun): ride, eat, sleep, ride, eat, sleep…A trip like this is very self indulgent. Cycling to the exclusion of almost everything else. And now, at only 8.30pm, I’m ready for the third part of the routine. Tomorrow we ride from McAlester to Fort Smith and then a rest day beckons. A massage might be in order I think.
