Awaiting the judge's signal to start at the NY/CT state line.

For perhaps the first time in the 13 state crossings I had attempted since my first just over a year ago, I felt a moderate unease in the gut, perhaps from too much veal parmigiana and pasta the night before and not enough sleep (2 hours). The weather was cool and clear at start time, cool enough to start out with long tights and long-sleeved jersey. According to weather reports, there should have been a very light quartering tailwind of two to three mph but I couldn't feel it. Later in the day on the return, I battled a much more aggressive headwind (reported to be around 9 - 10 mph) and a hot sun with no clouds to offer relief. The route features some very big hills, especially in the western and eastern quarters of the state. Traffic, including many large trucks, was surprisingly heavy for the start on such a relatively remote reach of highway at that hour of the morning. Unfortunately, traffic remained heavy for nearly the entire ride except late at night on the return trip — not terribly surprising given it was a work day.

Why do a record attempt? Breaking or setting nine state crossing records in one week (even if only in two of the smallest states in the Union) seemed like a worthy adventure, but I've been asking myself this question more and more every time I get 80 to 100 miles into a ride. I'm learning that I am not an especially gifted ultramarathoner, and by 80 - 100 miles, most of the fun has evaporated and been replaced by serious discomfort and often real pain. From then on it's a slugfest between the pain nagging at me to give up, and pride, fear of failure, and something else I cannot quite as yet identify, perhaps simply my sense of adventure, urging me on. A definite factor has to be the sense of urgency visited on a man on arriving at his sixth decade of life — the sense that there's a big ending coming up sooner than later, so let's make the best of what one has left to give. During a ride (and at other times as well), I often find myself pondering the value of this and hoping that this hard adventurism is pleasing to God.

Finishing the W-E leg at the CT / RI state line. Note huge, adoring crowd to the right.

I've always been fascinated by just how far and fast this union of body, mind, and spirit we call a human being can push itself, with or without the mechanical leverage provided by bicycles, sails, paddles, skis, or wings (soaring was my all-time favorite sport, but athleticism is definitely tertiary to the mind and spirit — excepting the occasional forced landing far from help of any kind). I was a runner and speed hiker for many years (twice held the record for hiking the 70-mi length of Great Smoky Mountains National Park for a total of 16 years and the first transit in less than 24 hrs). Cumulative damage to my knees eventually led to surgery and no more running. Frustrated at having nothing to do athletically while my wife Mikki won race after race in track and road racing in Senior Games around the country, I noticed many of these events had cycling, which I had always thought would be even more satisfying than running because of the speed and reduction in joint trauma. So, at the ripe old age of 60, I took up road cycling, did my first century and the 12-hour Sebring bike race in the same week in February 2006 (won my age class), discovered the UMCA web site and found there were still state crossing records to be set.

I rode my Tennessee-designed and -built Litespeed Teramo titanium bike (purchased from West Bike of Knoxville) with mostly 10 speed Ultegra components, Speedplay X2 pedals, Ritchey WCS compact crank assembly, SpeedCific wheels and hubs built by Mike Garcia of Odds and Endos, and, because long reaches of the road consist of fairly rough pavement, 26-mm Michelin Pro Race tires for the entire ride.

As for food and drink, I did not get enough! Food, that is. Two or three Ensure Plus's or Equate energy drinks, chocolate milk (low fat), Gatorade, a large Coca-Cola from a fast-food joint, water with a pinch of salt, banana, two Marathon bars, a Cliff Bar, M&Ms, and a few other items I can't recall. Perhaps related to the unease I felt that morning, I simply could not consume enough calories for best performance.

Finished — 50 miles post-bonking.

The beauty of the Connecticut countryside was the best part (although urban/suburban sprawl is taking a terrible toll). Lovely river crossings, small hamlets with beautiful old homes and taverns, and the amazing frogs of Willimantic especially caught my eye. The generally courteous motorists and their passengers who not only drove carefully and gave me a wide berth, but also cheered, applauded, and gave thumbs-up and other morale boosting gestures. I have to admit it was a real hoot having car-loads of young high school girls cheering a grizzled old cyclist on to victory! On the other hand, perhaps they just thought it was a really big hoot, watching an old coot toiling up route, in a spandex suit! . . . Nahhh . . .

The toughest part was the final long hard climb up to the New York-Connecticut state line (during the roundtrip of Connecticut) in the cold and dark of night after laboring over 200 miles, much of it under a very hot sun on a completely cloudless day. My pace fell to a crawl; the last hill (really a mountain) seemed to never end — I thought I had entered an evil twilight zone where the hill went on for eternity. Scores of traffic lights, stop signs, heavy but fast traffic, and a worsening asthmatic cough also made the ride more difficult than it otherwise would have been (tree pollen levels were horrendous). I do not believe I ate adequately and that may have contributed to a major meltdown in the last 50 miles or so of an already slow return trip. Shortly after my return home, my asthmatic cough degenerated into a miserable and painful swarm of severe flu-like symptoms including acute bronchitis, eye infections, sinus infection, etc., requiring multiple antibiotics, a cortisone shot, and bronchodilators, among other therapies. As a result: almost no riding in the last two weeks since the record attempts.

One of the infamously disdainful and uncaring Willimantic royals.

High-speed descents at night were an absolutely frigid experience, especially after laboring in the hot sun all day. Moreover, I had to scrub off some of my downhill speed at night because the bike light was not up to the task of illumination at high speeds. The behavior of most motorists ranged from neutral, to courteous, to expressions of cheerful encouragement for the rider, but . . . the fantastic frogs of Willimantic showed nothing but disdain for a lone cyclist struggling by under the hot sun. There were very few dogs and no bad encounters. Back in Tennessee I seem to average about a half dozen unpleasant encounters with dogs per ride (one of which led to serious injury).

My heartfelt thanks to my crew captain and bride, Mikki Eddlemon; outstanding crew-woman and ultramarathoner Martha Gingrich of Chappaqua, NY; and UMCA official, and most professional Judge, Dr. Mark Cristy of Oak Ridge, TN. Mikki's and Martha's generosity in time, encouragement, and support, and Dr. Cristy's professionalism and attention to the details of officiating were, of course, absolutely essential to the success of these record attempts.

A very special thank you to Dewey and Candy Ewing of Stratford, CT. Their gracious hospitality in putting up two near-strangers in preparation for the Connecticut double crossing was most helpful to the success of those rides (and most appreciated by the rider and crewchief).

Official Record: Connecticut W-E, 103.6 miles, 7:22, 14.06 mph
Start: CT/NY state line on State Hwy 343 west of Sharon, CT
Finish: CT/RI state line on State Hwy 14/14A west of Greene, RI
Official: Mark Cristy

Official Record: Connecticut E-W, 104.5 miles, 9:07, 11.46 mph
Start: CT/RI state line on State Hwy 14/14A west of Greene, RI
Finish: CT/NY state line on State Hwy 343 west of Sharon, CT
Official: Mark Cristy

Official Record: Connecticut W-E-W, 208.1 miles, 16:58, 12.27 mph
Start: CT/NY state line on State Hwy 343 west of Sharon, CT
Turning Point: CT/RI state line on State Hwy 14/14A west of Greene, RI
Finish: CT/NY state line on State Hwy 343 west of Sharon, CT
Official: Mark Cristy