Mike's Adventure
“ We should make the route go down to Cape May. I want that 200!”
When I decided to take the plunge and signed on to ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ I thought my planned route was massive. I quickly realized I had potentially picked a too enthusiastic partner for the big day. Davey and I finally met in the middle. Our compromise: 161 miles for me, 200 for the overachiever.
When we woke before dawn on the morning of our big day, a fog hung low over the city skyline. The Philadelphia streets were damp and eerily quiet. The Delaware River resembled stainless steel as we crossed over the Benjamin Franklin Bridge into New Jersey and I was pretty sure there weren’t enough Wawa soft pretzels or Coca-Cola Classics in the world that could fuel me for this long of a day on the bicycle. My worries were amplified by a sudden hissing sound and the circular spray of sealant. Two flat tires later for Davey and an assist from a gentleman in a panel truck who just happened to have the correct tools (and who was in no hurry even though admittedly quite late for work), we made it back on the road. Now I wasn’t worried if I could pedal that far but if we could finish the ride at all.
The third flat tire, on a recreational trail that was not ironically hosting a 5k walk-a-thon in the midst of a global pandemic was the final nail in the coffin, er, final glass shard in the tire. We called everyone we could think of but were 40 miles from help. With a $10 bill folded between the slash in the tire and our final tube, we soldiered on. Then our luck took a turn. As we neared Ocean City, our tire literally hanging on by a thread, we got a boost. The Director of Enthusiasm, Paul, was rolling our route in reverse with a brand new tire in hand. Saved at last.
With new tire and new energy, we smashed into the beach town and met up with more familiar faces. CJ had a car full of snacks and Cokes. We had enough time for a quick hoagie stop (hold the mayo) before rolling back inland pushed by a solid tailwind and pulled by Paul and Bill. Davey and I settled into a delirious rhythm trading 10 minute pulls until I finally admitted I was cracking 115 miles in. We eased up for the next 15 minutes and eventually rolled into another Wawa for another soft pretzel and another Coke. Back on the road I was now hanging on by a thread and Davey announced that maintaining a 20mph average for the day was our new super-fun objective.
Rolling back over the Ben Franklin Bridge at dusk, the sense of accomplishment was massive. The original goal felt stupid-hard but we did it and had averaged 20.5 mph to boot. As we turned the corner onto my street we saw my wife and Lobster Roller Brian and his family waiting with balloons and signs and cupcakes. It was the perfect end to a perfectly imperfect day. And yes, my too enthusiastic riding partner rode into the night until he eclipsed 200 miles and managed to make it home with a 20mph average. Way to go, Overachiever.
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