Day 26: Marysville, Ohio to Wooster, Ohio

Distance: 105 miles
Average Speed: 20.5 mph
Terrain: 4000 feet
Winds: Moderately favorable all day

Man, what a great day of riding. Incredibly diverse—lots of climbing, lots of speed, lots of weather, feeling absurdly strong. Today will likely be in my top five for the whole trip. Remember how when you were ten and your best friends would stop by your house to see if you wanted to come out and ride bikes and your mom would let you? That’s what it felt like all day for 105 miles for me. I’m going to ramble a bit so watch out.

First, we started with a rain delay. We never cancel a ride, but there was a front rolling through Marysville from 6:00 to 7:00 so why not just wait until 8:30 when the rain and lightning has let up a bit? Besides, on the back end of that front we would be getting some decent tailwinds. I know, you’ve heard me bitch about headwinds enough that I have to offer equal time to favorable winds. Today was a favorable wind day. Anyway, I went back to my room at the lovely Super 8 and copped an extra hour of sleep.

A thought on motels: the presence of a number in a motel chain name, eg. “8” or “6”, does not bode well for quality or luxury.

I rolled out at 8:30 into a light rain. By mile 8 I was fully warmed up, down to shorts, jersey, and arm warmers and screaming down the road. By mile 15, I had caught back up to the weather front and was getting fully dumped on. But you know, it wasn’t cold, there wasn’t a headwind, and I had an hour more sleep than usual. I felt incredible. Besides, there is a maximum to how wet you can get. When the SAG stop came up at mile 28, I wasn’t ready to stop, but I had to anyway because there was a big Bridge Out barrier that I would have crashed through otherwise.

Road tip for cyclists: water bottles become little germ cesspools on a long tour where germs circulate amongst a group and immune systems are in shambles. How do you avoid getting sick from your bottles? Fill them with warm water and drop in an Efferdent tab. I’ve been really fortunate in not catching anything, and I ascribe it partially to this.

Some other riders came in while I was at the stop, and I rolled out with three other guys—Ron, Tom, and Sam. There were some hills right out of the SAG so I went ahead and dropped those three, but kept them within sight until they could sort themselves out. This is kind of a game that a cyclist in front can play, applying a hard effort and then sitting up until the group behind breaks up a bit with the efforts. The goal is to pull out the rider that you want to ride with so that you can go faster than you would by yourself. Sam’s a wheel sucker despite being quick, and Tom wouldn’t be able to go with it for long and can be kind of negative sometimes. But Ron brings a ton of power over the flats and will bury himself, and he looked determined to try to latch on and hang in. I sat up, got him on my wheel, did a long pull so he could recover from the chase, and then we raged for the next 35 miles over flat to rolling terrain. I don’t think we dropped below 21 mph during that stretch. I did more of the pulling, but I would not have gone as fast on my own. As we were accelerating the sun came out and the day warmed up. We seperated when the hills started for real at mile 70. Ron’s a horse, not a mountain goat, and his power doesn’t necessarily translate to hill climbing. With that mercilessness typical of cycling, I rode off when he couldn’t help any more.

I am going to make this trip without SAG-ging an inch. That’s the goal. It’s going to happen. I need a few things to go right, but I am accountable for everything—my machine, my health, my legs, my choices. If I get sick, that’s my fault. If I get hit, that’s my fault. I’m paying close attention to Sexybike. “EFI”—Every Fantastic Inch, according to the tour company. My “F” stands for something different. I’m the only rider not to spend a mile in the SAG van, and I’m not going to. I’ve gotten superstitious about it. I won’t even look at the damn thing.

The last 35 miles was all up and down. The infamous Ohio 603 features long ramps over 12% on dead straight roads that you can see coming from a mile away as well as sharp descents into sharp ascents where you clear the top out of the saddle in the top gear and pulling negative g-forces. The roads all the way into Wooster do the same thing—rapid climbing, rapid descending, tight turning. You use every bit of your range and every bit of your bike. I used every gear on Sexybike over the last 35 miles.

I know I said the winds were moderately favorable today, but that 20.5 average is legitimate. My last 30 miles, with the hills, were faster than my first 30. My legs are like alien beings whose absurd strength I can no longer contain. They’re like the fuzzy little creatures in that crappy movie of the mid-80s Gremlins. Whatever you do, don’t get them wet.