70 miles in 5hrs 25mins (incl. a few muffin stops and a couple of
miles of pushing)
Total Distance - 3,713 miles (yesterday's total was 10 too high)
It was in the bag. I felt considerably better this morning than yesterday. Still very sore but that 'Friday feeling' of it being the last stage before a rest day was going to get me through the day. The only thing that could stop me clocking up the triple century was some major mechanical issue, I thought as I rolled out across the bridge into the already warm and humid morning air. No, don't think that Fraser, I told myself. A slight headwind and the last of the rolling hills before hitting the flats of the delta plains made for a slowish start but after 35 miles I was muffined up and all set to rejoin the interstate for the 65 mile run onto Vicksburg on the east bank of the Mississippi. I'd barely got started though when the twang of metal fatigue rang through the air. A spoke finally going I assumed as, I'll be honest, I'd been quite amazed that said spokes had held up quite so well given the abuse I'd been putting them through, particularly in light of the numerous spoke breakages and wheel rebuilds the old machine had on the way down the pacific coast. So I'd expected these new lighter weight wheels to spit out spokes for fun, hence the large quantities of spares I was carrying. I jumped off the bike to survey the damage. The spokes were all ok but when I set off again there was a definite wobble. Surely not another frame. Nope, it was fine, but as you can see from the pic, the hub was far from so as those star bits should be attached to that round bit. Cr@p! I was sixty miles from Vicksburg, and six miles from the nearest exit. Could I still ride it though? Only three and a half of the six bits were broken so I might as well try. What was the worst that could happen? Well the other bits could suddenly shear off sending me headlong in front of a truck. So, I figured I might as well try. And I could ride it albeit not on the interstate as a state trooper stopped to inform me. It was five miles to the nearest small town on the side road so I rode on. It was now down to two out of four and the next town was a further 16 miles away. If you don't at least try you're bound to fail, I thought. It managed another 15 miles of gentle riding with me standing putting as much weight as possible of the front wheel before number five snapped. There was no point in carrying on on the one remaining as it was bound to fail in a few miles. There was no sign of any of the pickup trucks stopping that I tried to hitch a lift from as I pushed into the town of Delhi and reluctantly, but out of necessity, called a taxi to take me the final 35 miles of the stage out of Louisiana and across the Mississippi into state number twelve
The bad news didn't stop there though as the bike shop that I thought was here isn't any more. As a result I've got a number of options but the most appealing is looking to hire a car tomorrow and run into Jackson to try and pick up a new wheel there.
But on the bright side, I was due a rest day here and much, much more importantly it ain't 'dry' here, cause I need a drink.
