Segment 2: Ride Day 7 - A Slightly-Crazy Almost-Century Ride

Route: Montgomery, AL to Demopolis, AL ( Fairhaven Baptist Church)

Distance: 91.01 miles (of the 101.1 mile total)

Riding Time: 6 hrs: 15 mins

Average Speed: 14.5 mph

Max: 35.5 mph (yeah more hills!)

Weather: Very humid from the get-go (like 90%?)... and that's all there is to say for now...

Things that Happened Today

•          So, clearly there aren't many bikers 'round these parts. As we rode out of Montgomery two tweenage kids sauntered between our line of bicycles and said, with a whole lot of certainty, “Y’all gon’ git killd… uh-huh y’all gon’ git killt." Well, maybe they know something we didn't, but as it turns out the drivers on the side of Montgomery either hadn't had much coffee yet and had a bad case of the grouchies, or they just plain had never seen so many people in spandex before. Whatever the case, we heard some choice words, a water bottle or two (or maybe an empty coffee cup?) were thrown... but it all turned out alright and we wound our way out of the city without too much excitement.
•           Later, as we made our way towards Selma on HWY 80 and the worn-down, slumped-over city neighborhoods gave way to rolling farmland the drivers became much more courteous, for the most part and a farmer (who was out getting ready to plant sesame seed - who knew these grew on bushes?!) let us stop near his equipment shed for our first break.
•           At some point before the town I realized we were going to drive through Selma - THE Selma, Alabama that played such a crucial role in the civil rights movement and was the starting point for the historic 1965 marches from Selma to Montgomery. It was strangely ordinary to bike through this town which looked just like any other southern town we have biked through so far, knowing that this place played such a crucial role in the Civil Right's movement. So much has changed since then in some ways, but in many ways precious little really has...
•           This morning we had a special pre-ride meeting because, as it turns out, our route to Demopolis would go directly through Uniontown, Alabama - a town which is known for it's voter fraud, nonexistent churches (where we couldn't stay), and for its gang and drug activity which resulted in the state taking control of the city a year ago. Not a great place for bikers. So we planned our stops carefully before and after the town to ensure that no one would go through alone and everyone would be accounted for on the other side and away we went: Do not stop or pass go or collect $200 from anyone (no matter what). I went through with three other guys I was biking with... and nothing exciting happened. It was pretty much your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, economically-depressed, slightly saggy southern town whose main source of employment appeared to be a prominent Catfish food manufacturer. So we went on our way...
•           ... and that is when the sky started to get dark. At first we were awfully excited because rain sounded like a wonderful, cool thing indeed, but as the sky grew darker and darker and thunder started rolling in the distance... and then closer... and then bolts of lightning started striking less than a few miles away the excitement of our situation became quickly obvious. My 3 riding buddies and I kept riding for a little while until we realized just how stuck we were: in the middle of nowhere, on a pretty-flat road that was higher than any trees around, riding on hunks of metal. Awesome. So we did the only thing we could do - we headed for the ditch and turned our backs to the rain that started pelting us in what were later rumored to be 50-60mph wind gusts (I don't know how fast it really was, but it sure felt like hail). What ensued was probably the longest 15 minutes of my life as I tried to keep my ears plugged (I am crazy scared of loud noises) and head down and prayed my most desperate prayers I have prayed in a long time and tried to telepathically tell everyone I love that I do love them so dearly... just in case the lighting struck too close. After what seemed like an eternity of watching cars zoom right on past, a big red pickup truck pulled to the side and out jumped some other riders to load up our bikes and take us the last 9 miles to our church for the night. And where was this good-Samaritan driver from?? None other than Uniontown.
•        Along with the Good Samaritan from Uniontown, our support van showed up, packed to the gills with wet people and bikes, and took the rest of us (who couldn't fit in the red truck) to the church. Thank you Kert for letting me give him a big huge hug when I jumped into the van just as lightning struck what seemed like feet from the fan. The rest of the night involved sleeping and drying off. Enough said. Here is what the day looked like in pictures:

Nope, it's not raining. That, my friends is humidity. 8AM.

Rest stop with the sesame farmer and his lovely green tractor (Sorry, Uncle Lowell :-)

My biking buddy for the morning: none other than the Geezerman!
(Note: He is 71 and awesome to ride with and usually has a stash of vanilla oreos)

This was one of the only pictures I stopped to capture on the ride this morning.
The irony would only become apparent much later in the day.

Aaaand, several hours later, Alex stops to take a visit to some nearby bushes and
the color of the sky begins to catch our attention... and we get excited about the idea of cool rain.

Aaaand... this is an hour later, after the scariest 15 minutes spent on the side of the road in my life
and a pretty dramatic rescue. (Steven, Alex, and Tom: I freakin' love you guys!)

At the church. Nothing like humor to make things a little better.