(This is a long post and it will take me awhile to get the grammar, e.g. verb tense/flow, worked out. I’ve worked on it here and there all week and it seems that one day I am present and another I am past.)

It was a beautiful day, the last warm one this week; it was last Sunday. I rode the X-Stream, taking the opportunity to play with the seat angle, still trying to find that magic position. If I adjusted it upright my butt hurt, as a result of more weight on it. The narrow seat did not help. If I laid it back a lot then my butt was OK but my neck hurt, as a result of holding my head at an angle I was not use to. When I got it just right, somewhere in between the extremes, then my butt hurt and my neck hurt. But all that adjustment was yet to come.

When I started out I felt like it was going to be a fast day. It wasn’t. Even after warming up I found it difficulty to hold 16 where I normally would be at 18 mph. I don’t mean it was difficulty to hold 16, I mean that at 16 my heart rate was high, i.e. greater than 85% of max. I have been trying to hold to 85% or as low as 75%, trying to stay in that could-ride-all-day zone. There are three conditions I allow myself to exceed that effort, i.e. 1: climbing hills, 2: when someone is coming up on me from behind, or 3: when I spot a fast rider ahead, i.e. a rabbit. I realize that “2:” and “3:” may be a little childish, but hopefully I just like to demonstrate that recumbents aren’t necessarily slow.

So, I start my ride from home, as I usually do, and ride across campus to the trail head. There is very little traffic as is typical of most Sunday rides. It is only about 1.4 miles to the trail, not nearly enough to get warmed up. As I go through the dedicated parking for trail users I see Joon’s truck, so, I figured I’d see him and his wife within the first 15 miles as they rarely go past Sumrall. I knew how it would happen. First I’d see her coming toward me, recognizing her by her Sun trike. I would wave well before we meet, giving her plenty of time to recognize me before speaking as we pass. She would not slow, nor change her path, nor converse beyond a simple greeting. I always have the feeling that there is somewhere she has got to get to, just like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. Joon will most likely not be right behind her, only on occasion, not within sight even; “how far back” being the only variable. Joon especially likes to stop at the Beaver Pond and observe nature. He likes to talk to other riders. He gets behind. She does not slow, nor wait. At least once she did not even wait at the truck but just keep on riding, all the way home. Joon and I often refer to her as the energizer bunny. He loves her very much. That’s exactly how it happened Sunday. I found Joon at the Beaver Pond. I first saw his bike, a Rans Stratus that he bought from a co-worker. Then there was Joon returning from the water’s edge. He told me that he was just talking to a couple with two kids who came up from Louisiana to ride the Long Leaf Trace for the first time. He said I would probably catch up to them just ahead. We had a nice visit, and a hug. I had not seen him in a while, a very nice guy.

Up an incline, around a curve, and just ahead from Beaver Pond is Epley station. I was looking for a couple with two kids and there they were. I came to a stop, my bike getting their attention. I asked if they were from Louisiana and he replied yes, but with an expression that asked how I knew, or maybe it was why I was looking for them. I could help my self, I said something like “I just received a phone call to be careful, that there were some people from Louisiana on the trail”. I didn’t give them more than 5 seconds before I told them I was just kidding. Then I got some smiles. I also told them of my conversation with Joon about them being on the trace. As it turned out they were deciding whether to turn at Epley or go further, and where to eat lunch, it being lunch time. I told them that Sumrall was less than 4 miles further on and there were at least three eating opportunities there, i.e. Ward’s, Subway, and Lau Tori’s. I added that Lau Tori’s had a nice catfish sandwich that was just right for a mid-ride lunch. He asked about securing their bikes. I told him of the bike rack and that they may be able to get a table by a window to keep an eye on them. I later found out that she had the fish sandwich but he had something else (don’t remember what) along with a desert he had not run across at home, a pineapple strudel (maybe). I headed on to Sumrall, stopped briefly for a water refill but was gone before they arrived.

Leaving Sumrall I was a little slow and not particularly comfortable. So, I got to thinking that I might as well take the time to “tune” the bike, the seat angle anyway. I stopped at what we call Llama Station or Emu Station, about 5.5 miles from Sumrall. (It is a rest stop just feet from a farm with, you guessed it, alpacas and emus). In order to lower the seat I loosen the seat slide clamp, loosen too bolts/screws, and pull too pins; reversing the steps after changing the angle. Loosening the clamp prevents a little wear as I rotate the seat and is necessary to move the seat forward/backwards after the incline is changed. Changing the incline seems to change the effective distance to the petals; go figure. The two bolts hold the seat braces to the rear wheel drop outs. These braces are round but are flattened where they screw to the drop outs. On the X-Stream the flat parts are too short. As a result the round parts conflict with other support members and, thus, the bolts must be loosened to allow the small amount of rotation involved at the drop out. Or maybe my seat braces are screwed to the wrong holes on the drop outs. In any event, the screws are too short. When I loosened one the nut fell off. I didn’t notice until after making the seat adjustment. At this rest stop someone put down gravel that is about the same color as metal. I couldn’t find the nut.

I’m looking for this nut, feeling like a nut, when a car pulls up. A couple about my age gets out along with a young girl, perhaps their grand daughter. The girl then rode a small bike on the trail, back and forth but not out of sight, as I talked to her escort. They sat on the second of the two benches. We had a most enjoyable conversation as I took a break from the bike. I learned that they often walk on the trail but don’t ride on it, don’t even own bikes. Very, very friendly. After a while I started looking for the nut again; he asks and I explain what happened. He says “I may have something” and goes to the car. I’m thinking that he is going to bring back a selection screws and nuts, but, instead, he brings back one of those magnets-on-a-rod thingies. He starts scanning the ground and finds the nut, but not with the magnet. The magnet does not attract the nut. It feels very light weight, must be something like Titanium. Soon after I got on my way to Bassfield, the turnaround for my 60 mile ride. As I ride off, the young girl tells me that when she grows up she wants a bike just like mine.

On the way to Bassfield I come to the conclusion that the new seat angle is not for me, not at this time. My neck is at an angle I’m uncomfortable holding. However, it might be OK after building a whole new set of neck muscles. Or, after installing a neck rest.

At Bassfield I find an attractive woman resting on one of the station benches. She and her husband came down from Atlanta for the weekend; to ride the LLT. They had recently retired and sold their bike store near Atlanta. On Saturday they rode out of Hattiesburg and that day, i.e. Sunday, drove to Prentiss and rode from there; but after 11 miles she was exhausted. Her husband had gone back to Prentiss for the car. She asked for eating suggestions. Garraway’s store for the day, as was Ward’s, and most likely the Trace Café. She said she understood there was a grocery store a little ways down the road, but I recommended the Texaco service station about 2 blocks away, especially recommending their fried chicken. She said she was a vegetarian and I added that their vegetables were well prepared and that sometimes I only had the vegetables. She asked if I was going to eat their; I said no but I would be happy to guide her. She indicated that would not be necessary but did ask if there was ever any trouble. I told that I had never seen anything to be concerned about and that they were very friendly at the service station. She got on her bike and I watched to make sure she made the right turn. I then ate my banana and has a gel pack, second guessing my lunch choice.

Just outside Bassfield on my return I met two riders, a man and a woman. I recognized the woman. She works at a local bike store and organizes a number of weekly rides. I like her and the owner/mechanic of the LBS, despite a bit of possible bike prejudice. In her recent ride announcements she has specified “road bikes only”, which in and of itself is not an indication of a negative bias. However, there have been a few little things. For example: I think the owner is probably the best mechanic in town. He has been very helpful to me with advice and giving me a missing screw here or there. I’ve bought a few little things from them such as bottle cages and gel packs. He’s given me good service and I’ve wanted to give him some business, maybe let him tune the front wheel on the XP; it has a little wobble to it, not a large amount. So, I told that I’d like to give him more business and asked him what kind of work he liked to do. He didn’t say but he did say that he did not like to work on “Walmart bikes”. I don’t know if he meant it personally or not, if he was even referring to the bikes I ride or not, but I live by a guiding principle that says “don’t get angry at a good mechanic”. So, I will still try to give him some business, as soon as I figure out some business he wants. In any event I’ve been looking for her and her group on the trail in order to demonstrate the value of the bikes I ride. Unfortunately, so far, I’ve always been going in the opposite direction. Speaking of her group, where were they. I discovered the paceline a little further along as they crossed on one of the county roads that shadows the trail in a criss-cross fashion. I’ve noticed before that road bike riders often prefer riding on the road.

Now, this is where much of the above comes together.

I’m away from Bassfield and approaching the llama station when I decide that if I don’t want a cramp in my neck then I’m going to have to raise the seat. I pull over, reminding myself to be careful not to drop a nut. I loosen the seat clamp, loosen the two seat support screws, pull the pins, raise the seat, and … the two road bike riders go flying by. They had been to Bassfield, turned, and caught me. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for. They need to be a little ahead of me, but not too far. Out of sight would be good, so that I appear to come form out of nowhere and zoom past on my Walmart bike (not). By the time I tighten up it will be about the right time. I push the pins in … No I don’t. The one on the left side will not go in. When I raised the seat it rotated the seat braces forward just enough for more conflict between the round part of the seat brace and the round part of the drop out. The left brace twisted so that the holes do not align. Darn. Shucks. I had to loosen the left nut just a bit, not too much. There, the pin when in. The nut fell off. Shuckie pooh. I had previously removed the leaves and other debris from under the wheel and found the nut in no time. Obviously that screw is too short. By the time I got the nut on they had much too much of a head start. I was thinking “By the time I catch them I will not have a lot of bling left.” (“Passing with bling”: It is not enough to just pass, you must pass with a significantly higher speed and with no noticeable effort. When you speak you must not be out of breath and must speak in a cheerful, “isn’t this a nice ride” voice.) I jumped on the bike and was off to a flying start. Week or strong, it was all down hill to Sumrall and I should be able to stay close to 20 mph. Of course they will be taking advantage of the down slope also. I kept thinking that around each curve I’d see them just ahead. Didn’t happen.

Then there was Sumrall. If they had been there I would have passed and played the other game, i.e. the “last you will see of me game”. They were not there and I didn’t need no stinking rest stop. I should have eaten more gel, or maybe a Boost drink. I was too week to do more than 10-to-12 up the slope going east out of Sumrall. Then it occurred to me, they may rest at Epley, especially if one of them was having a slow day and, maybe, that was the reason they were not with the paceline. Getting up to 17 or 18 in places but mostly grind, grind, grind. As I come to the crossing just before Epley I slow down to get my breathing under control, and there they are, about to get back on their bikes. I go on by, waving without taking my hands off the handlebars, most likely giving a slight nod as I commonly do. I think she recognized me. So, game type two was on. In this version “bling” is not important, but you’d better not let them catch you, for the rest of the entire ride. I though to myself “this is going to hurt”. It is down hill all the way from Epley to Beaver Pond. My fastest average for the 11 miles from Epley to USM is probably close to 20, not sure. I know it is 18+ from Sumrall and that includes the slow climb. In any event I am gone; even with a week rider recumbents are fast down hill. After Beaver Pond I drop back to 16-to-17 mph. My heart rate was running well over 85%.

Just before Jackson station (about 7 miles from Epley) I slowed down a bit because of walkers and casual riders. Then I saw him, well back, in my mirror. I couldn’t tell if she was tucked in behind him or not but I recognized his jersey; also there were not many road bike riders on the trail at the time. I crossed the road at Jackson station and took off. This was a section that I normally did an interval on and normally at about 20. However, I held it to about 18 to kept my heart rate down. I figured that was good enough; I had already estimated their speed to be 16+, not counting the burst coming into Jackson station. I wondered if that was an effort to catch me. If so, too little too late.

I continued my pace until I hit the Hwy 59 bridge. There they were. Not the road bikers, the Louisiana family. She was at the bridge waiting for the kids to catch up; he was riding slowly ahead. I pulled up beside him to talk. I was a little apprehensive but didn’t want to blow by them. This is when I found out where they went for lunch and what they had to eat. A nice guy. I also liked talked to her at Epley, especially liked it, but tried not to be obvious about it. After a bit he said he should wait up and I said I should go on. I was thinking, “where are those guys”, “could they have passed me and I didn’t notice”, “Nah”. I pulled into USM, averaging close to 16 mph for the 60+ miles, not my best.

From the USM station I usually cross directly over to the campus but the traffic was light so I rode west on 4th street and then turned into campus. At the bottom of the hill, there they were, getting back own their bikes after pushing them across the road (it appeared). She and I exchanged verbal Hi’s, almost face to face. How did they do that? Did they turn off the trail early? A number of possibilities, e.g. some people stop short of USM these days because of the construction there. At least she knew they didn’t leave me in the dust; that I didn’t ride a Walmart bike.

Note: Walmart, I think your bikes are great entry level bikes. No offense intended.