Tour Day 77 Running On Fumes Sept 10 2010

I woke up today and was in one of those moods. I was so comfy I did not want to move. My mind got the better of me and I got up figuring I was already up so why just lie there and do nothing.

When I got on the road I was hit with a heat wave… again. It was leg zapping because I was dripping in sweat and it was 7am. Mentally and physically I was cooked. I made the choice that today was going to be a rest day, and I was going to finish at lunch.

Each km was a struggle to keep up to a pace I deemed acceptable. I kept pushing and pushing until I felt my calve start to tighten up. I stretched it for 30 seconds and kept going. When the stretching didn’t help I had flash backs to Regina back on day 13 (I think). I then made the choice to make my pit stop early… mainly because my stomach was getting the best of me.

At the rest stop I saw these delicious looking things called honey buns. This snack was about the size of my palm and an inch thick. Looking at the size I got three of them. When I was eating the first I looked on the package to read about it and started to laugh at what I found. Each one was 800 calories, and contained 187% of my daily fat intake. I may have laughed but I needed those calories because I was running on fumes. I could tell I was running dry not only by my computer, but also by the way my mind was working. I kept wanting to stop and rest. I kept wanting to give up.

After I got some food I thought ok I can make it to lunch no problem. At lunch I got to talking with another guy thinking about doing some touring. It is always nice getting to geek out for a few minutes and tell him how much I love all of my gear.

With some lunch in me I thought ok lets go for another hour and that will make it an average day. At the 30-minute mark I decided to look at my map and saw that the next town that had anything was 30 miles away. I then decided to stop complaining and just put in the miles. I picked up my pace and was making surprisingly good time. It looked as if I was going to make it to my stop before 3pm, which meant it would turn out to be a rest day after all.

About 10 miles out I got hit by a sudden rainstorm. Now it was not really a problem because it was light and it was still 97 degrees outside. The only thing was once the rain stopped it became even more humid. With the heat index it was 107 degrees. Which translates to hot.

I had the shirt unzipped and could tell my chest was burning but I did not care it was not worth zipping the jersey, and I was so sweaty that sun scream would have just fallen off. I was just thinking about a cheap motel and how awesome it was going to be. I saw the signs for the town and was even more exited. Then I heard POP, tick, tick, tick. I thought the worst “my ear wheel is toast”. When I looked my wheel was fine. Instead I got a lovely nail from the construction site I had passed.

It is over 100 degrees; I am dripping sweat all over the curb, and changing a rear flat. Knowing I had no spare tubes left I was forced to use one of my crummy peal and stick patches. I knew it was going to going to fail, but I was hoping it would stick.

I was back down the road and could feel my tire loosing pressure slowly. The only problem was I was 13 miles from the nearest town that had any bike supplies. At this point I had done 180km and was beat. I decided to try to flag down a stranger to help me. 5 minutes in no takers. Then a lady pulled up and said throw the bike in back ill take you to my bike shop.

What a stroke of luck. She took me to her motorcycle shop which was a heaven for British motorcycle people. The whole place was lined with BSA and Norton bikes. I got to talk with her about my little British car back home, and swapped stories of my travels. She then drove me the local mass merchant store, which we both hated because we work with local shops, but it was the only option.

Once back at the motorcycle shop I changed the flat and she offered to take me to the local motel down the road in Cocoa. This was an offer I could not refuse because it was 5 pm and I was cooked.

Now I am bad with names and I did not write down this strangers name I believe her name was Beth, but her husband runs Ronnie’s Motorcycle Service in Titusville.

Beth was a native to New Orleans and made me really stoked to see that area for the people because the people here are very set on doing only what they are doing, and not what a strange bike tourist is doing.
Trip Distance: 185km
Ride Time: 8:05hr
Avg. Speed: 22.95km/h
Total Distance: 11445km
Total Ride Time: 535hr
Destination: Cocoa, Florida