June 11, 2018 Waynesville, MO to Sullivan, MO

80.0 miles. As I write this, I am exhausted. Today may have been the toughest 80 mile ride of my life. I was gassed at 35 miles, but I kept going. I don't know if it's cumulative fatigue, my age, or the fact that it was the hottest day of the year in this area, or the stifling humidity, but it took all that I had to finish. Pam offered to come and get me, but it was just time to man up, because I don't know if I will ever do this again. The fact that I got through today without cramping up, is testament to the 'Extreme Endurance' pills that I have taken the last couple of times I've ridden long distance. I discovered these pills at Landis bike shop in Phoenix, and they are loaded with the minerals I need to keep from cramping, and they also keep lactic acid from forming, which makes your muscles sore. That's why cumulative fatigue gets my vote as a reason I bonked. There was just no juice in the legs, especially on the hills. And, oh, what hills there were! I only climbed 3200 ft, but there were three hills where I climbed 250-500 ft in a mile, or a little more. It was epic tenderization of my quads.
Now, for the details. I was out the door at my normal 7:30 a.m. or so. I had a sweat going before I got out of the campground. It was near 75 degrees and 75 % humidity. The first six miles were pretty much downhill into Waynesville, but the first of the big climbs from downtown Waynesville to St Robert, took more of a toll than I would know. As I was leaving town, I got the fifth flat tire if the trip. I have no idea what caused my back wheel to go flat, but it set me back about a half an hour.  I was sweating so bad I had a hard time getting things together, and it wasn't yet 9 a.m. US 66 was not in the best of shape for this entire ride. There were some stretches of origional concrete in the early one third of the trip, but they weren't in the greatest shape. It felt like I hit a frost heaves or a crack every twenty feet for 80 miles. That's an exaggeration, but you get the idea. My butt only has so many positions I can sit in, and even my wrists bothered me for the first time in this trip. I stuck with the RT 66 biway signs, and even took stretch of 1926 to 1941 road that was really rough, because I wanted to find out what Devil's Elbow was. It was a bend that went around a hill with a wall holding the road up. It then descended quickly to a nice river, and an old bridge with a new surface. An old, origional stretch of four lane road, provided the second big climb of the day. It didn't look terrible, but it felt terrible. When I got to the top of the hill, old 66 was eaten up by I 44, and the 66 biway signs disappeared for the first time in Missouri. I was baffled at first, but I broke out the Adventure Cycling Assn. map for one of the few times I've had to, and the road veered quite a bit away from I 44, on RT J, to P, to T (Missouri roads often have letters instead of numbers, and they really don't  make much sense to me) RT P took me down, and rode along quite a stretch through what I believe was the Mark Twain National Forest. Huge oak and pine trees kept the road semi shaded. It was mostly flat and quiet, and I even saw a deer cross the road in front of me. It was definitely the coolest part of the ride, in both senses of the word. P took me through the small town of Newburg, and there was a pretty good climb up to the small town of Doolittle. From there I was back on 66, and the biway signs reappeared. I ran parallel with I 44 until another leg smashing climb into Rolla. At this point I stopped for lunch at an Arby's, and tried to cool off and regroup. I was only 35 miles into it, and I was running on fumes. Rolla had a nice college, Missouri S & T, which I had never heard of (Science and Technology), but it had a huge and nice πka house, which is my fraternity, and in the past I have seeked the houses out on the campuses I explored.
The last half of the trip just went on forever. There was zero wind all day, which made it seem hotter. I dreaded every uphill, and took quite a few short breaks in each small town. It really leveled out ( as much as Missouri does), but the damage was done. I limped into the Flying J parking lot, which is where we stayed, in Sullivan, nestled amount the big trucks, after 8 1/2 hours to do a measly 80 miles. What a struggle it was.