April 9th, 2011, 10 a.m.: "Just two more miles to go." That's what I told myself when I hopped on my bike at a Cary Starbucks and started a training ride.
Around 1p.m., a convenience store clerk in Broadway asked how far I was riding that day, I told her, "Just two miles."
Ten minutes later, I realized I'd missed a turn. The blessing of a GPS-enabled cell phone got me back on track. While I was on my unexpected detour, I told myself: "Just two more miles to go."
I pulled into Jitter Bugz in Sanford about 3 p.m., and settled in for a lunch break. It has a nice atmosphere, and the espresso was excellent; I'll have to go back again. I finished my lunch, hopped back on my bike, looked at the hills ahead of me, and started riding the last two miles.
Around Five p.m., the hail started; it was hardly enough to wet the roads as it melted, and it stopped after 15 minutes. I kept riding, and told myself "I just gotta ride the last two miles."
At Six, as I was winding my way between Jordan Lake and Shearon Harris, it began to rain. The forecast had called for isolated thunderstorms, which come and go very quickly. I only had two more miles to go, so I put on my rain gear and just kept riding.
By Seven, while I coming into Apex, the rain transformed into a torrential downpour. But it was no big deal, because I only had to ride the last two miles.
By seven-thirty, the lightning started; it was getting dark, and the rain was so heavy that I had trouble making out the street signs. But the lightning was far away, and I was relatively warm. I had headlights, tail lights, and my rain gear was just only starting to soak through. As I backtracked through Apex due to a wrong turn, I reminded myself that I just had those last two miles to go.
August 17th, 1985. I woke up early, rode to Richard Barkschat's house, and we went for a ride. Like many Saturdays, we had no particular destination in mind. We ambled along Pacific Coast Highway, inland to visit a few friends, had pizza at our favorite place near the college, stopped to catch a movie, and finally turned our wheels home at sunset. When I left Barkie's place, his odometer read 95 miles. When I got home, I'd ridden an extra 3 - two miles short of a full century. It was dark, I had no headlight, and safety was a concern; I called it a day. Soon after, my bike was stolen; unable to replace it, I gave up cycling.
By Eight O'clock, I was back in Cary. the rain was still coming down hard, & the lightning was getting close. I was soaked to the skin, & my feet were floating in my cleats. I could no longer see well enough to avoid the rain-slick lane markers on the roads; Again, as it was twenty-five years earlier, I called the ride due to safety concerns, but I'd already completed the goal I'd set out: my odometer said I rode 101.7 miles, but as far as I'm concerned, I simply finished the last two miles of a ride I started twenty five years ago.
THIS is absolutely and positively awesome!
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