It's a sign...

Day 66, Stage 44 - Vicksburg to Prentiss
102 miles in 7hrs 50mins (incl. just muffins and juice stops once again)
Total distance - 3,815 miles
...all I was thinking was 'No it's not. Can I please get going?' I was being tag-teamed but more on that later.

Even when I set off at just after nine this morning the air already had a warm viscous feel to it. Not unpleasant but enough to mean that really pushing it was out the question.

Things weren't just physically draining but there was the mental drain of the logging trucks again, especially given the lack of any shoulder lane here which really wasn't fun. The bike was also worrying me as well as I wasn't entirely convinced the new rear wheel was the best built piece of kit. And after a pitiful 30 miles my fears were confirmed as it had already started to develop a slight wobble and by the time I stopped for muffins after 40 miles it was stuffed necessitating a lengthy rebuild. This time it wasn't Tourette's - for a very brief moment I was actually angry. I'm of the view that anger isn't a very useful emotion so I decided to channel it into aggression that I was going to take out on the pedals of the bike, driving them round and me down the the road. Which I did as I continued on repeatedly checking my mirror for what was on it's way down the road. But when I looked back ahead this time, while it was a straight road I was heading straight off it at 20 mph. My years of cycling have taught me that the best course of action is don't turn, don't panic and hit the brakes slowly. It was a heck of a rough ride but I came to a dusty and bumpy stop still on the bike which was surprisingly unscathed. I sheepishly got back on the tarmac which was a fantastically quick surface as it had recently been resurfaced. A few miles down the road I was held up at a one mile stretch that was down to one lane due to it being resurfaced. I was let through by the flagman at my end, but so was the traffic at the other end. Now I've unintentionally played chicken with a van many years ago. However, this time I could see it coming so I switched across into the tarred lane and cycled through the gloop which was slow-going but not half as slow-going as when the coating of tar on my tyres picked up a layer of stones, a lot of which are still there.

But it was the next one-lane section where the tragicomedy for the day unfolded. I was stopped by the flagman so was chatting to him when his colleague pulled up in a pickup.

"Have you seen a deer like this size before?" He asked waving a picture of him with a mounted stag's head.

A proud hunting man, I obviously reasoned. Fair enough. I'll be on my way soon enough once the flagman turns the sign.

"Tell me. Do you know Jesus?" He then asked. And, out of either amusement or Christian duty his friend wasn't turning that sign.

Don't get me wrong. He was a perfectly nice, well-meaning bloke but the, what felt like well over five minutes before the sign was finally turned was up there as one of the most mentally tortuous moments of the trip.

Bite, lip, resist, fish, barrel. Don't Fraser, just don't.

I didn't. Even despite the astonishingly misguided interpretation of the big bang theory that he gave. As I stood there I was half listening to him but also half listening to the tunes coming out of my unplugged earphones, desperately hoping that the next song it skipped to wasn't the Depeche Mode classic, 'Blasphemous Rumours'. As I finally rode on I was very nervously looking over my shoulder just on the slim chance he was going to try to prove his "are you ready to face god if you're run over on the rest of your cycle trip?" point.

On the topic of misguided messages. I spotted this one a couple of days ago outside one church. I was ending myself when I cycled past it.

I arrived in Monticello which I didn't much like the look of so decided to push on to clock up another century to the start of the Longleaf cycle track at Prentiss.

One small issue is that, with all the running around yesterday to get the new wheel, I didn't have time to do any laundry, and despite much searching I haven't been able to find one tonight. 'highly aromatic' is probably the best way to describe my room tonight.

M I S S I S S I'm a bit P'd off

Day 65 - Reflection day
Not much, but the triple century was the last real 'little' cycling milestone that I'd set myself on the trip so to have worked so hard at it only for the bike to stop me short has made for a slight air of disappointment today. Still, trying to stay positive I managed to get a new wheel today in Jackson so I'm all set to go tomorrow morning and I also just found out that there's a 40+ mile cycle track that I'll be able to take on Wednesday which is something to look forward to.

The bike fixing has meant that I've had very little time today to see the town here which is a real shame as it looks an interesting part of the world with the ominous vast dark bulk of the Mississippi slowing gliding through and past the banks on which are filled with relics from the US Civil War (worringly some of the locals apparently still refer to it as 'the war of northern aggression'). All this is mixed together in the hot and oppressively humid air which is still almost too warm as I sitting out on the veranda of the excellent Bell of the Bends B&B having watched the sunset over the river and now listening to nature's white noise as the air fills with the calls of seemingly millions of unseen creatures.

Man vs Bike: 2-0 to me

Day 64, Stage 43 - Farmerville to Delhi
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.

Take me to your dealer

Day 63, Stage 42 - Hope to Farmerville
114 miles in 9hrs 40mins (incl. just several snack and juice stops)
Total Distance - 3,653 miles
I think I considerably underestimated the state of Arkansas - both how pleasantly scenic it would be but also how hilly that scenery would be. Not major hills at all but seemingly endless of those short 30-50ft rolling hills that are probably mostly too small to have registered on the mapping software I used when planning the trip. Much tougher than I expected.

I felt ok this morning, not great but I figured I'd feel better once I got the pedals spinning. But after about 10 miles things didn't improve, if anything they'd got worse and I was back to that feeling of heavy eyelids. The decline continued over the next few miles so I decided it was time for chemical stimulants for only the second time on the trip. Given the only other time I succumbed to caffeine was on the stage into Ferndale when I ended up violently sick I wasn't keen on taking this option but, today, drugs were 'necessary'. Therefore, a can of Red Bull would be purchased at the next shop I passed. And then started my search for a 'dealer' of said beverage. However there was nothing. Not a lack of Red Bull, a lack of shops. None until I reached the village of, eh, Village, after 50 miles. I was tired, hungry and for the first time since the 'dull' day through Eastern Arizona, I was worrying about whether I had enough daylight to get me where I was planning on going. Still, I was moving onto a more major road for the next 20+ miles into El Dorado so I expected a faster road. But it was anything but as the shoulder lane was rough, filled with gravel and slow. Halfway along I stopped to chat with a group of local cyclists - the first cyclists I've seen since leaving Albuquerque 1,000 miles ago! I pressed on past the city of El Dorado, sipping on Red Bull as I went onto yet another state line as I crossed into Louisiana and finally onto the city of Farmerville just before seven.

Now I just need to get some sleep then do it all again tomorrow as I try for a hat-trick of century rides.

I believe in a place called Hope

Day 62, Stage 41- Mena to Hope
110 miles in 8hrs 30mins (incl. two punctures but only a brief few
muffin stops)
Total Distance - 3,529 miles
It hadn't been a bad dream, it had really happened. I still couldn't believe it when I finally woke this morning. No beer! Understandably, I was happy to be moving on this morning, albeit a couple of hours later than planned - yesterday had obviously tired me out more than I thought.

It was near perfect conditions as I set out; around 25C with no wind and not a cloud in the sky, and things essentially stayed that way all day. Things weren't quite as quick as I was expecting as the stages was filled with a lot more 50-100ft climb/descent stints than I'd expected. It also included one totally unexpected wall-like 200ft climb into Umpire that almost became the first hill all trip to get me off my bike and pushing. But, with a struggle, I made it. Scenery-wise, it was just like being back in Washington again with quiet roads winding through trees, lots of trees, and where there's trees there's logging trucks. Lots of logging trucks.

The trees gave way to lush dairy pasture in the latter miles, which then gave way to caravans - thousands and thousands and thousands of FEMA caravans and mobile homes just outside Hope. Quite a surreal sight.

I finally arrived in Hope around six and headed straight for the various Bill Clinton houses and sights dotted around town. Love him or hate him you can't help but be amazed and inspired that he got where he did given how and where things started for him.

On a different topic, I was delighted to switch on the Weather Channel to discover that, after four weeks of chasing shadows, the Vortex 2 team today finally got themselves a major tornado to track. I think I must have been the only person watching for the past few weeks who's been wishing for them not to have anything to chase. But, now I'm out The Alley I'm more than happy if it all goes funnel-shaped.

Need to get myself some sleep now, I'm afraid, as another 110+ mile day on the cards...with a slight headwind...and 90F.

King of the Roads?

Day 61, Stage 40 - Talihina to Mena
64 miles in 7hrs 10 mins (with only snack stops)
Total Distance - 3,419miles
Today basically started well, then got better and better.

Firstly, apologies for the investment chat in the next bit but its been an important 'hobby' for me while I've been on the road. As with so many weekdays on the trip I awoke early and couldn't resist checking up on my Bloomberg app. to see how the little hedge fund (and I mean little!) that I've been keeping going since just before I left was doing. After two of it's poorest days in quite some time on Tues & Wed I was a touch worried. Today, though, was a very good day, taking it up through the 50% return on invested capital since it was 'founded' at the end of Feb (and for the finance folk amongst you, that's not just from playing the market rally as it's been broadly market neutral on a beta-adjusted basis - though, obviously cause it's been working it's become a bit net long so the long Sanofi position got trimmed down today - and yes, that's yet another Sanofi trade I've made money on Messers Gestrin and Baker). Excited and delighted I couldn't get back to sleep, especially given the stage that lay ahead.

Now back to the cycling - As I set off at nine, the clouds looked thicker than I expected, especially over the ridge I was heading for. Before leaving Talihina I got confirmed what I'd heard - there was no food or even water stops all the way along the stage until a dozen miles short of Mena. As a result the panniers were promptly filled with large quantities of juice, water and snacks making the bike the heaviest it's been since the 'death' stage out of Vegas to Kingman. But I was in no rush what-so-ever. Today way about enjoying the journey on what was to be my last day of big climbing for the trip with over 5,000ft vs the average 1,000ft days that lie ahead into Miami. I slowly covered the 9 miles to the start of the Talimena Scenic Byway and paused for a moment to take a few pics beside the 'Warning: Gradients of 13% Next 21 Miles' sign. This was going to be a challenging but fun day.

The road promptly went steeply upwards and I more than happily ground the gears round realizing that I was, perhaps strangely, really enjoying it. The road was empty with the first traffic I saw being a coyote trotting along a hundred yards up ahead. Then, a matter of seconds later, a roadrunner shot across the concrete into the trees. Couldn't have scripted it better. That was my only company for the first hour or so until I reached the first summit of the ridge when I was passed by two bikers just as the road dropped away as steeply as it had gone up which made for a 35-40mph two mile chase of the motorised wheels. I guessed they must have been surprised to see me still in their mirrors at the end of the descent and, when I bumped into them hours later, they confirmed they had been. That first taste of the ultra fast, steep and winding downhills had definitely been at the borderline of control and at the top of every descent for the rest of the day I had a feeling if nervous anticipation about what was down round the next corner, and more importantly, whether I could make it round it.

And this was the story of the day; insanely steep, but just ridable climbs (such as the pic), mad descents and a rolling road through the trees along the ridge complete with the pleasantly overwhelming aroma of the newly cut verge. The regular viewpoints dealt up spectacular views despite the still overcast skies and poor visibility. I was absolutely loving it and coasted along just enjoying the ride, in as little a rush as I've been all trip. More than once I found myself briefly wanting a puncture so the day would continue on for longer. The near solitude continued for hours as I looked on to see the vast expanse of trees with only what looked like the occasional brush stroke of grey through it that was the road ahead.

After five delightful hours I cycled across the state line out of Oklahoma into the tenth state of my trip, Arkansas before zipping down into the town of Mena

I was even asking myself the question; Is this the best road of the trip? I have to say it's definitely up there. And I imagine that on a cool, crisp early autumn morning when the colours on the endless views of trees are turning I think it would be top of my list. Somewhere that, without hesitation, I'd definitely come back to, but know that, in reality, I almost certainly won't. If you're ever in the area, though, take the detour.

On a different subject, though, I've just discovered I've made a gargantuan error in my planning. Having done my laundry and with three consecutive century days lying ahead I decided it was time to unleash the buffet ninja in me once more and just hope I don't have another 'Lemond moment' tomorrow. I walked into the Chinese restaurant and took a seat....

Waitress "Can I get you a drink sir?"
Me "Yes, a beer please"
Waitress "ah, what was that sir?"
Me "Just a beer of some sort please"
This brought nervous laughter from said waitress followed by "Eh, this is a dry county, sir"

Stunned, silence; feather, knock down

And I thought I'd been speechless when I saw the Grand Canyon! I know I was going slowly today but didn't realise I'd been going 'backwards'. I honestly didn't know that anywhere left in the civilised world that was 'dry'. I thought that whole experiment was pretty convincingly proved to be a failure about 80 years ago. All of a sudden I'm very suspicious of this place. And let's be honest we know why it's dry, and in my book any belief system that results in you not being able to have a beer is seriously suspect.

Looks like tomorrow I shall be setting off in search of an Ice Cold in Arkansas.

A beautiful day under skies of gray

Day 60, Stage 39 - Holdenville to Talihina
101 miles in 6hrs 50mins (incl. one non-Subway footlong sub - a poor imitation)
Total Distance - 3,355 miles
It was a restless night last night as the thunderstorms that started at 9pm continued to roll around til at least 4am depositing copious quantities of rain which wasn't falling quietly. The rain was still coming down heavily at 6am so I checked the radar loop on Weather Channel which suggested it would likely move on in an hour-or-so, but was being followed by another band of rain about 50 miles behind. I went back to sleep with the idea being to set off into the wedge of dryness when it passed overhead - if this plan worked I figured I'd have the right to feel suitably pleased with myself all day.

Setting off just before nine I could see the rain falling way up the road ahead and the clouds behind me looked like they weren't keen on staying airborne. But I was dry and I stayed that way through the first 25 miles through lush, damp green tree-lined fields. I pedalled on happily smug then realised that the cows in the field I'd just passed were all lying down, as were those in the next field, and the one after that. The dark clouds had almost caught me and the cows knew what was coming. But the road was turning to take me across and away from the rain if I was lucky (and fast enough). I was both and reached McAlester around noon where the inferior sub was consumed. The road then rolled on through more of the same green and pleasant land under heavy skies the morning had taken me through.

All day I had to continually avoid the innumerable armadillo remains yet again today but thankfully I actually saw some live wildlife crossing the road today including a deer, a tortoise (which I suspect may not have stayed live for much longer) and then, very much to my surprise and shock, a tarantula - or at least an enormous hairy spider, and another, and another. Four of the 10-12cm arachnids over the 60-80mile period.

The town of Talihina arrived after 96 miles just before 4pm as the light drizzle started falling so I sought out somewhere to stay. This proved more difficult than I expected. The first motel had the 'No Vacancies' sign up despite having only a couple of cars outside the ~15 rooms. So I decided to follow the 'downtown B&B' sign which took me down a road and out the town. Next option was the worrying looking place advertising rooms and showers on a mildew-coated sign. 'Ring the bell' it said on the door pointing to the two bits of painted wire. I knocked on the door then opened it expecting to find a front desk of some sort, but found a front room of some sort. I retreated quickly conscious of the fact that around these parts of the world they shoot first and ask questions later. With the gps suggesting the nearest place was some 19 miles away I decided to chance to luck and head further out of town and thankfully stumbled upon the Lazy R Inn almost an hour after I'd first rolled into town.

Forecast looking ideal for tomorrow's short-but-tough jaunt up and along the Talimena Scenic Drive - a stage I've been really looking forward to since I first drew up the plans for the trip.

And as for today's picture. It's just the humour of a biking scientist - apologies.

Stormschasing

Day 59, Stage 38 - Oklahoma City to Holdenville
86 miles in 6hrs 10mins (incl. only one quick bagel stop)
Total Distance - 3,254 miles
Mixed feelings this morning as I woke in time for another very early start. While I was delighted to be getting back on my way, especially on a route away from the interstate, I was more than a little worried by the weather forecast for today. A cold front was to move in today and the computerized voice from the Weather Channel last night had been going over in my mind warning of scattered thunderstorms, some with severe winds and hail. Now the definition of 'severe' in this part of the world is somewhat different from the UK - severe rain = several inches fin a couple of hours, severe winds = possible tornadoes and severe hail = golf ball to baseball sized. I was definitely nervous, especially when I set off just before seven and could see I was in the middle of a vast horseshoe of menacing looking clouds. There was nothing to do but pedal and hope. After about an hour the horseshoe had been left behind but one arm had curved round to move between me and the rising sun. The rain started to lightly drizzle down and I was expecting to get wet. Then, to my surprise, shards of sunlight started to cut through the cloud and quickly carved it out the sky. Looking round I guessed I had at least another couple of hours of dryness. So I pressed on, fighting, with the Garmin gps as I went - piece of ******* junk that it is. The clouds then started to gather ominously again, but this time the road turned to take me south-east into the sunshine instead of the wall of dark grey that headed off north. To make it even better, the headwind that I was expecting to strengthen during the day began to wane giving me a more than pleasant run into Holdenville. To be honest, I hadn't had particularly high expectations for the scenery on this part of the trip but it turned out much better than I expected - not it any way stunning but nice, lush, green, gently rolling, quiet roads.

Then came my dilema for the day. It was 1pm and I had just over 80 miles chalked up. I felt good and wanted to carry on for a few more hours. However, the next town of note was almost 50 miles down the road. While the skies looked good I couldn't be sure they'd stay that way for the 3-4 hours I'd need. So I reluctantly called an 'early' end to the day. And when the thunderstorm rolled in two hours later as I was devouring my last slice of pizza, I was pleased I had.

Speaking of good decisions, I was chuckling to myself about the sign in the pic. as does a storm shelter not become a septic tank as a tornado passes overhead?

Looking ahead for the rest of this leg I've got a tough five days tentatively pencilled in as I try to squeeze what was six stages into five taking me down to Vicksburg on the Mississippi. As a result I'm looking at hopefully doing centuries in four out of the next five stages, with the remaining day being a +5,000ft climbing day - tough. Good news is the weather is looking pretty good for the next week - warm, but with the exception of tomorrow, dry. And the best weather news is that tomorrow will take me out of the 'Vortex 2' tornado hunt region (the Weather Channel has blanket coverage of this V2 project), which I'm assuming is the area in which said spinning things are most likely to occur.

One other quick point is I've got to give a special mention to the folks at the Wheeler Dealer bike shop in Oklahoma City who took delivery of my broken Cannondale yesterday and gave me a lot of help in stripping it down and getting the parts boxed up and to the Post Office. Thanks again and best of luck with the expansion into the new shop folks.

I'm considerably less grateful to the assistant in the PO who told me I couldn't send then package cause it was 1" over the 108" (length + girth) size limit, especially as her colleague had already measured it at 107". Some vicious slashing and re-taping got it below the limit (even further) so it should be arriving back in Balerno in a couple of weeks.

Snack time

Day 58 - Waiting for FedEx
...so nothing to do round here but eat.

Nice weather, except for ducks

Day 57 - The 'burbs
90F, dry with a 20mph southerly has been ideal weather for a day of refuelling (though not for the little, lonely feathered creature in the pic). And I've been refuelling considerably with as much food as possible. Speaking of bulking up, I finally found a set of scales for the first time since I set off and I'm down 7kg (1stone) to bang on 14 stone. I must be honest, I'd have thought it would have been down a bit more than that. None-the-less it's the lightest I've been in about 10 years and the 7kg doesn't take account of the fat-to-muscle weight transfer that's bound to have happened. As an aside, my BMI is now a fraction under 25, meaning I'm just below being classified 'overweight', apparently. Does the BMI scale really have a shred of credibility left? Hmm, I think not.