Day 17: Whiteville, North Carolina to North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. 58 miles. Pretty darn flat.

A nice greeting from the management of our hotel today.  The term "resort" is used loosely.

No photos of goats, horses, turkeys, chickens running around front yards, cattle or small yappy dogs running after cyclists on back country roads.

Okay, I did have to take this one shot along the route as we crossed the state line.  Mandatory.

Today was a combination of racing to get into Myrtle Beach before the forecasted rains would arrive in the early afternoon (they didn't, by the way); trying to overcome a morning of low energy owing to another sleepless, cough-filled night; and just trying to get this trip over and done with.  Certainly not the positive attitude to take into a day of riding.

The storms out in the Atlantic were whipping around, sending clouds and potential rainstorms our way.  The sun barely shone throughout the morning.  That kept the morning cool and breezy, with temperatures only in the mid-70's.

My riding this morning was labored so it was a blessing to have basically flat roads all the way to the ocean.  I just kept pedaling and counted down the miles.  I wasn't about to stop to snap shots of roadside attractions.  Then again, you've all probably seen most of what I would have taken pictures of from past rides.

Arrived in North Myrtle Beach, right on the ocean.  Not a bad view from my room!

Somehow, it didn't dawn on me that I'd ridden all those miles over these past 17 days.  Not sure how they all added up but as I rode my bike into the hotel parking lot, it finally hit me that I'd again accomplished what I set out to do.  Maybe not quite the way I wanted to do it nor the full amount of miles I intended on riding.  But I still feel good about the trip.

Tonight, a bunch of us hopped from one beach bar to another, then went out to dinner together for one last time as some of us are departing in the morning.  The half-mile walk back to the hotel was filled with laughter that carried through the night beach air.  Listening to the talking and the laughing, rejoicing in the sense of camaraderie, made me appreciate this ride in a different way from past efforts.  I'll likely not see most of these people again.  But I will keep the memories of our shared good times together for years to come.

I made it!  Dragging my sorry, coughing ass through the Carolinas, but I made it.

Tomorrow, it's a flight back to New York and back to the real world.  So endeth the journey.  Epilogue and final thoughts to come shortly.

Day 16: Warsaw, NC to Whiteville, NC 73 miles, 1370 feet of climbing

For the third time along these rides, I found a Tesla charging station.  They are situated near major Interstate highways, but always in some remote, rural area.  As first blush, you start to wonder why Tesla would have a station here when no one in 25 miles of this charging station owns a Tesla.  But here's where Elon Musk makes us all look stupid.  Not only will Tesla drivers eventually use these stations but, in the meantime, these stations, charged totally by solar power, are selling back their excess energy capacity to the local power grids.  These things aren't just sitting around.  They are making money!!

Today was a tale of two rides.  A morning 47-mile ride under a cool, cloud-covered sky.  Temps in the mid-70's.  No real wind of any kind.  And nice, gentle rolling hills.  Popped in for lunch at the Corner Cafe in Elizabethtown, along with numerous other riders, as we had entered the coastal regions of Southeastern North Carolina.  When we emerged from lunch, the clouds were gone.  The temperatures had spiked up into the low 90's and the winds were now in our face for the remaining 26 miles of today's ride.

We've been passing signs for "Butterball" along the past few days of this route.  Today, we finally saw the turkey farms as advertised. Here's the sad part.  If you click on this photo, you'll see just how tightly packed those turkeys are in that barn.  

Of all the things on the list of things to do to recover from an upper respiratory virus, you can bet that long-distance cycling isn't one of them.  My agitation from riding in the van waiting for my fever to break or my virus to just go away made riding yesterday all the more an act of determination.  Today, I merely was trying to recover from both my lack of breathing as well as the exhaustion in my legs from yesterday.  I got better in both cases.  But I do think it also had a lot to do with the NyQuil I took last night.  I actually got a good night's sleep for the first time this trip.  Drug-induced, sure.  But at this point, I was happy to take any method possible.

I realized today that I've been talking about passing tobacco farms and hadn't taken a picture of what a tobacco plant actually looks like.  It's not the best shot I could have taken, but this was the only farm we passed today.

In truth, I did feel stronger today.  Both from the recovery from whatever virus had hit me as well as a renewed strength in my legs from the cumulative riding over the past two weeks.  The ride organizers  always tell you not to consider training while you ride, but it always seems the case that we all get stronger the longer we're on these bike trips. Today's ride clearly proved that.

The Corner Cafe in Elizabethtown, North Carolina.  Our lunch stop for today.  Beats the hell out of PB&J's as SAG!

As many of us are leaving the ride after tomorrow and not continuing on to Jacksonville, Florida, we had a pizza and beer party for dinner tonight here in the motel to celebrate one last time together.  Dinner was filled with lots of laughter, lots of camaraderie, lots of remembrances of earlier exploits (both on this and past rides) and a shared sense of accomplishment.  For some, this was their very first long-distance tour.  For veterans, this was just another notch in their gun belt.  But newbies and veterans alike all took the same measure of personal joy and pride for what's been done.  And many will leave after tomorrow with an expanded list of Facebook friends.

Ridin' the seams.  Unlike most of our time in North Carolina so far, much of today was ridden on chip & seal roads.  The rough pavement makes it harder to keep up a high speed as the uneven surface grips our tires.  Sometimes, we get lucky and find seams (look at the lighter colored lines on the road surface) where the grittier portions of the chips have either been worn away or not properly sealed into the road.  We'll try like hell to stay on these seams as it's a smoother, faster ride.  As I was riding on this seam, I kept singing the Grateful Dead's song "Casey Jones":  "Ridin' that train, high on cocaine, Casey Jones you better watch your speed..."

While I am looking forward to getting back to the real world, there is a part of me that is echoing a feeling I've had before on these penultimate evenings of the ride...a desire to just keep riding and not end at our final destination. There's a part of me that gets used to the routine, even if the next day's ride is over some mountain or goes more than 100 miles.  It's just something that you start to program yourself into acceptance and turn your brain off to the other issues that surround your life.

You forget what day it is.  You forget about work.  You forget about politics.  You start to see the world with a different set of priorities.  What matters most is the next fifteen feet in front of your front wheel, not what some politician or celebrity just tweeted.  You don't care about your favorite sports team.  You don't even remember if that sport's season is still going on.  You remember that the simple joys in life come from total strangers waving 'hi" and saying "good morning" to you as you pass them in the coolness of the morning as they walk down to the end of their driveway to retrieve their newspaper.   You appreciate the amazement in the little boy's eyes when his father lets him stand among 27 cyclists as they gather, adorned in their spandex regalia, to depart from a motel en masse at seven in the morning.  You notice the smells, both fragrant and foul.  You are grateful for that gentle breeze that cools your sweat-soaked bike jersey.  You don't go running for shelter when a light rain helps relieve the oppression of a 90+ degree day.  You embrace it all.

For all the miles I ride.  For all the hills I climb.  As I pass from one rural community to another across this country, I am thankful for so many things.  To be in good health to be able to ride the different parts of America.  To be able to afford the time to do these tasks.  To be able to witness all of the darkness and the beauty that this country has to offer. And to do it in the company of some very talented, very funny and very warm, caring and welcoming people.  It is an adventure I will never forget.

Tomorrow, onward to South Carolina and the end of this journey.

Day 15: Battleboro, North Carolina to Warsaw, North Carolina 101 miles, 1700 feet of climbing

If there's ever such a thing as an easy century ride, this was it.  Virtually no climbing to speak of (except a few overpasses from I-95 and I-40), a low, but steady tailwind and milder temperatures.   All in all, it made for a good day, especially as I was up half the night coughing my lungs out.  Whatever this virus is, it's not going away without a fight. Tonight, I'm going with NyQuil again in hopes of a better night's sleep.  Load isn't until 8:00 tomorrow, so I might actually be able to sleep in.

For the first time since we started, we enjoyed a tailwind.   A light one to start with, by noontime, it was a strong breeze heading, fortunately for us, in the right direction.

Today was all about four things, as pointed out by the collective of riders:  Horses, humidity, dogs and Baptists.  We passed dozens of horse farms along this morning's route (and another tip of the hat to the North Carolina roads -- for the most part, they were in excellent condition).

For the second day in a row, the humidity index was near 100% when we left our hotel.  Within five miles, our bike jerseys looked as if they were sprayed on our bodies.  Either that or we had all entered a wet t-shirt contest.  Every time we stopped for a traffic light or stop sign, our glasses fogged up from the humidity.

Bike portaging.  For the second time this trip, we were able to ride through a road construction detour.  And for the second time, we had to carry our bikes across an unfinished bridge.  This one was a bit hairier than the first as we walked across an improvised wooden footbridge meant for the construction workers, not for carrying bikes.  Still, it cut off a 10-mile detour.

We used our dog whistles twice this morning.  In the first incident, two dogs came running up from their yard and were stopped in their tracks by the whistles before they reached the street.  The second case was far more serious.  When the dogs are barking to begin with, they usually tend to be playful and want to get in the fun of running alongside the bikes. Dangerous as that can be if they cross our paths, those dogs are usually harmless.  But, if a dog comes running towards us without barking, especially in this morning's incident when the dog ran through a thicket directly onto the street, it means business.  And not in a good way.  Again, the whistles slowed, then stopped this larger dog right then and there.

We passed by numerous small community churches along today's ride through the countryside.  Maybe it was because it was a Sunday or maybe it was just that we paid closer attention, but many riders were amazed by the various Baptist churches along the route.  Missionary.  Free Will.  Southern Baptist.  You name it.  All shapes and sizes of churches from one-room affairs to huge buildings with overflowing parking lots.  This is a very God-fearing part of North Carolina and the country.

When I saw this, I stopped to appreciate the optical illusion.  Not sure I was able to properly capture it on my smartphone, but the deconstructed railway bridge in the foreground looks as if it's been extended by the newer bridge in the background.

Today's ride was also a bit of a race against time.  While it was foggy this morning, the sun broke through and the skies cleared by 11:00 am.  However, rain was predicted by 4:00 pm so it was important to stay dry and make the distance before the showers came.  Proudly, everyone made it in on time and stayed dry.

Tomorrow's another moderately easy day before our final leg into Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

Day 14: Emporia, Virginia to Battleboro, North Carolina 60 miles, 1100 feet of elevation

Today was probably the easiest day we've ridden so far.  Sixty miles are basically flat (and very well-paved) roads.  A slight crosswind.  But some serious heat.

Emporia, Virginia at 6:00 am.  Notice that regular gasoline down here is selling down here for less than $2 a gallon!

I couldn't spend another day just sitting in one of the SAG vans.  I still had a bit of a fever this morning, but I was champing at the bit to get back on the road.  I soon realized that the riding wasn't going to affect my breathing, just my energy levels.

One more state down, one to go.  We keep sneaking into cities, towns and states through the back door.

We spent the morning riding through small, one block long towns as well as out in the country.  Lots of empty spaces in between small, country towns.

A lot of today's ride was along these country roads.  In the mornings, these backroads provide a significant degree of cooling before the sun gets too high in the sky.  The riders collectively thank the North Carolina Department of Highways and Public Works for such well-paved roads today.  Much appreciated!

We did have a chance to use our dog whistles this morning.  Michelle and I were riding through a very rural area when three dogs began running out of their yard towards us.  I really think the first dog would have stopped had it not been for the other two dogs behind it wanting to get into the action.  Before long, the three had bolted across the front lawn and to the edge of the road when Michelle, whose reaction time was quicker than mine, blew her dog whistle.  I followed shortly thereafter with a toot from mine as well and the three stopped right in their tracks upon hearing the shrill sounds.  So, yes, the dog whistles worked!

When we emerge from underneath the trees, we come upon these small, block-long towns.  As has been the case in many parts of the country, these are the communities hit hardest by tough economic times.  Many boarded-up store fronts.

Apart from tobacco and cotton farms and the occasional solar farm, there wasn't much to today's surroundings.  This was your basic "head down and pedal on" kind of day to get from point A to point B.  That and dealing with the heat.

Which way!?  It's tough enough following the cue sheet every few miles for another turn.  It's even harder when you have to deal with confusing signs such as those above.

At one unplanned watering stop where the SAG van had positioned itself to supply us with extra water, Michelle and I stopped to refill our bottles.  While I was waiting for my water bottles to be refilled, I was attacked by a swarm of some kind of huge horse fly.  Easily the size of a half-dollar, three of them were on me as I attempted to swat them away.  One bite me but good near my knee.  At first, I didn't think much of it until Michelle notice the blood seeping down my calf from the horse fly bite.  Later, that turned into a dime-sized black and blue mark.  No pain, but just an odd occurrence.

Yes, you are reading that correctly.  With about five miles to go, my bike computer (verified by two other riders on theirs as well) hit 108 degrees at 1:05 pm this afternoon.  I stopped to take this picture as proof.  Bike computers are picking up the temperatures from the road.  The air temperatures are usually 6-8 degrees cooler.  It still made for a hot day.

Tomorrow, the temperatures will return to normal (only the mid-80's), but it's a 101-mile day into Warsaw, North Carolina.  Should be interesting.

About 12 miles out of this morning's SAG stop, Michelle and I stopped for something cold to drink and to refill our water bottles.  We were drinking quite a lot to stay hydrated and cool.  As I was waiting for her, I noticed this sign on the front window of the convenience store.  There are always some cute and/or funny signs along any bike route.  This one surely was the funniest one I've seen so far.

Day 13: Mechanicsville, Va to Emporia, Virginia 0 miles, 2500 feet of elevation

I woke up again this morning with a fever and significant chest congestion and coughing.  Were it not for the fact that a number of other riders felt the same way, I think I might have been quarantined to the bumper of one of the vans for the day's route into Emporia.

Today was singularly the hottest day on this tour.  The temperatures hit 102 degrees by the time we arrived mid-afternoon in Emporia.  But it was a dry heat. ;-)

We rode past a number of Civil War battlefields throughout the day, from Peterborough to Cold Harbor to Gaines Mills and the Seven Days Battle.  Some say that if the Union forces had anyone else in charge instead of General McClellan, the war would have ended years sooner.

There were a lot of old groceries, gas stations and other buildings along the route that seem to have gotten lost in some time warp back to the 1930's.  This was the best example of the lot.

Tonight at route wrap, the ride leaders handed out to all riders a new tool for our journey into North Carolina...a dog whistle.  North Carolina is notorious for not having leash laws for dogs.

In years past, we've been lectured about how to handle a charging dog.  We've been told to use our bike pumps or water bottles to ward off an oncoming dog.  In truth, that takes more time than we actually have if the dog's intentions are to inflict damage.  And there is practically no way to outrun a charging dog.  Worse off, the dog may run in front of our bicycles and cause a nasty spill.

I hope I don't have to use this.  But, if I do, I certainly hope it does its job effectively.

As some veteran readers of my first blog up the Mississippi River will remember, Rollie and I were part of a convoy of five or six riders in Missouri, if memory serves me correctly, when a pit bull came charging out of the brush and bit a rider right in front of me.  The rider was out of commission for three days to heal from the dog bite as well as to confirm that the dog wasn't rabid.

More examples of yesteryear.  

The dog whistles we were issued apparently have a major effect on a charging dog.  They've been used on past rides and will cause a dog to stop in it's tracks and turn away.  Although these are not the ultra-high pitched whistles that can only be heard by animals, these whistles were originally used for naval purposes, being able to signal an oncoming ship during a fog.  Whatever the rationale, if they work, we'll use them.

I'm hoping my fever breaks so I can get back to riding tomorrow as we cross into North Carolina, dogs and all.

Day 12: Fredericksburg to Mechanicsville, Virginia 0 miles, 2800 feet elevation

The early morning view of last night's dinner locale, across the parking lot from our hotel.  The riders revolted last night, refusing to go to Golden Corral and opted, instead, for this burgers & beer biker bar (alliteration not intended).  The bikers  (those on Harley's, not Cannondale's) quickly adopted us as kindred spirits and rounds of beers were bought for all.  The music, piped outside on that terrace, made for a very long night if you didn't have earplugs!

Yes, you read that correctly.  Zero miles.  I woke up this morning with a fever and a sore throat.  The latter was no big deal, but the fever and chest congestion immediately ruled out riding today.  And I really wish I had ridden because it was a nice ride.  Not much elevation.  No steep climbs.  Just gentle rolling hills as we headed south towards Richmond.

This morning's departure took us through parts of the Fredericksburg Battlefield.  These long-range cannons were brought in by General Lee to rain holy hell down on the Union positions over a mile away.  The battles were fierce and deadly.

Instead of cycling, I rode with Shane in one of the SAG vans.  As a result, I got a very close up look at the day in the life of a tour ride leader.

Shane likes to take pictures as much if not more than I do.  When we passed this sign, we turned around to get a better look at what it said.

From the rider's perspective, we see the vans passing along the route us to check if we're okay.  Or, we see them at the SAG stops every 25-30 miles for water and food refueling.  Once inside the van, I got to see things from the leader's point of view.  It's a lot harder than it looks.

The signage was great.  The inside of this old rambling house containing antiques didn't live up to our expectations.  But it was still worth the stop, if nothing else than for that image of two frogs on a bike.

The two vans play hopscotch along the route.  The SAG van with the luggage will always handle the first SAG stop of the day while the second van (mechanics van), unencumbered by the luggage trailer, can drive around, make quick turns to rescue or retrieve a lost rider, and just scope out the chain of riders along the route.  And that chain is often what's most difficult to manage.  At the second SAG stop, the mechanics van will serve as host, allowing the van with the luggage trailer to proceed to the evening's hotel site.  That's if all goes normal.

As the late morning temperatures started to climb, nearly everyone took advantage of a Subway/Dairy Queen shop along the route.  Some had sandwiches.  Most had something cold and sweet from DQ.

We are not a homogenous group of riders.  We don't all ride at the same pace or with the same degree of talent and experience.  Some of our riders speed along, hell bent for leather, at above a 20 miles per hour pace.  Others will ride, either in small groups or as individuals, in a moderate 14-17 miles per hour pace.  Still others take more time and cruise at a 10-12 mile per hour pace.  If you think about our now 25 riders (plus three guests today) going along a common route, within one hour from our start hotel, we could be over five to seven miles apart.  That means either one or both vans must keep track of all those riders along that accordion-like chain.  Now multiply that by three or four hours and you see how the challenges of managing our group become compounded.

If a rider goes down or has a flat (which I finally did yesterday morning), that holds up the chain (as usually one or more riders will stop to help a fellow rider change a flat tire).  And, if the van shows up, that's longer that the lead riders will have separated themselves from the remaining riders.  Coordination can be a nightmare.

That nightmare is further compounded when the slowest riders are also those who stop to take more pictures along the way (there's an inverse correlation between the riders speed and their desire to take photos -- the faster they are, the less inclined for sightseeing).  Or if they are slow and they want to stop for a leisurely lunch en route.  Either way (or both in some cases!), it puts more pressure on the ride crew to manage all riders.  Add a very hot day (as was the case on our very first day of riding) and you'll double the pressure as the crew want to add mini-stops in between scheduled SAG stops to refill water bottles.  After spending the day with Shane, and later Mike, I had a new found respect for their efforts.

Going to take some NyQuil and hope for the best in the morning.

Day 11: Washington, D.C. to Fredericksburg, Virginia. 93 miles 4500 feet of elevation.

The mass exodus this morning.  The trick was waiting for all the riders as we kept getting strung out between blocks due to traffic lights as well as general rush hour traffic congestion.  We also picked up four new riders last night.  All are from Toronto.

Today was unusual in that we disrupted what has now become a standard routine with two major changes.  On normal days, we eat first (6:00 or 6:30), go back to our rooms to collect our bags, load bags  45 minutes later and take off whenever we want thereafter.  Today, we loaded at 6:00, had a review to today's route at 6:15, ate breakfast at 6:30, took a group photo at 7:10 and left the city en masse at 7:15.  A group ride out is unusual and only used when we need to leave a major city as a collective in order to provide better safety as well as ensuring that we all get out of town in one piece.

Saw this on the side of the Four Seasons Hotel in Georgetown while we were stopped at a light.  Loved the imagery .

This morning, the first 16 miles were flat as a pancake as we rode through Georgetown to ride along the Potomac on both the Washington, D.C. and Virginia sides.  We passed along the Kennedy Center, the Lincoln, Martin Luther King and Jefferson Memorials, then crossed a bridge (wasn't paying attention to know which one) and rode along the Virginia side as we circumnavigated Reagan National Airport.  Sixteen miles after we started, we were in Alexandria and on the Mt. Vernon trail.  From then on, it was all riders to their own speed and pace.

The Potomac River from the Memorials side early this morning.  So calm with only a handful of rowers making waves.

I wish there were nicer shots to show you, but it seemed as if we passed near but not next to most major attractions along the way.  Close to Mt. Vernon, but not there.  Close to Quantico (where we could here the loud bangs from artillery practice) but no signs of the actual facilities.  Close to downtown Fredericksburg, but we snuck in the back way and saw little of the actual town or welcome signs.  Even the horse farms along the way were bereft of horses.  Nothing grazing out in the pasturelands.

The SAG stops were spread out at 30-mile increments, so many of us sought additional liquids along the route.  The one provided just the right stuff around mile 50.

The temperatures were relatively warm today but comfortable.  Mostly the high 80's.  The next few days are expected to be scorchers again, with forecasts in the upper 90's by Friday or Saturday.  Then there's this storm brewing in the Gulf.  Who knows where that'll end up!

Ten years ago this summer, Jesse and I took a road trip in honor of his high school graduation.  We toured much of the South and, owing to a bit of fortune and serendipity, wound up here as our first Civil War battlefield tour.  Unlike Shiloh or Gettysburg, much of the historic Fredericksburg battlefield has been consumed by the expanding civilization.  As the Park Ranger pointed out back then, "Behind where you are standing, the artillery of Generals Lee, Beauregard and Jackson waited for the Union Army to advance.  If you look down the road at that third STOP sign, next to that blue Buick, you can see where the Union forces were pinned down under the hail of enemy fire."  You don't get that kind of intrigue at Gettysburg!