.: Day 4 :.

Mansfield to Williamsport About 92 miles

Well, I thought I wouldn't get wet. But I did. I didn't much care about the bag being wet. But it was kind of annoying to roll over into a wet, squishy bag and pillow. But I can't explain how cool it is to watch the sun come up, and the fog burn off so early in the morning. I also can't explain why I literally got up seven times to pee last night. Kind of concerning, but I know that at least I'm not dehydrated. Maybe it was just my body getting rid of the 5 beers I drank last night.

As Taylor and the old Heads on the ride mentioned, today is the day Jerry Garcia was born in...whatever year he was born. No big deal for me.

Breakfast was at the school, and I tried to get as much in me as possible, but I know it's never enough. So I was sure to load up the bag and pockets with additional food for the ride. Again, the Mayor was there to see us off.

This morning we were the very very last to leave to start the day of riding.

An executive decision was made to head into town on the way out in order to hit the coffee shop for some much-needed caffeine. Hell, I was still in need of a nap, so I had my third cup EVER of a coffee beverage. Actually, I didn't finish it. But I did have about five sips of a double shot of espresso. I donated the rest of it to Heath.

The coffee shop was nice, had the usual art for sale and comfortable seating. So comfortable that after I finished my drink, and while the others made love to their coffees, I sat down on a couch and got some brief eyes-closed rest.

Soon enough, we were on our way out of Mansfield.

Eric Loch, our man who set up all the routes and mapping, told us that today would be an awesome day of riding. And he wasn't lying. We went through some really nice country. There were a couple of hills...like Devil's Elbow, but nothing too bad. And the downhill rewards were well worth it.

I mostly rode with Joachim and Christine again today.

The first group out left really early this morning so they could finish early and beat the heat. Too bad they were stopped by PennDot, who were in the process of tarring and chipping one of the roads we were riding. Man, does that stuff suck. But it sucks even worse that this group tried to get a head start on the heat, only to be stopped for an hour while the road crews screwed up the road for us.

So when we rolled into lunch, pretty much the whole group was there.

There was a nice little general store here. Heath bought Taylor his case of Monster energy drink, or one of those disgusting things he's addicted to. What's even worse is that at $57, this case of energy drink is more expensive than most cases of beer.

We were really lazy at lunch, and took our time. But our original morning group...which had split earlier...waited for us to finish lunch. In no time, we were back in the saddle, hammering.

Soon after lunch, Taylor passed our group. He slowed down to about 30 miles per hour, and eight of us fell into a double-file paceline behind him. Basically, without much effort, we used the draft of the car to ride along at a clip of 30+ mph. It's pretty scary at times. The two guys directly behind the car are no more than 6 inches from his bumper. Then everyone else is a few inches off each wheel of the person in front. It's nuts. But we rode this way for at least five miles. There is not much room for error here.

It was definitely a hammer fest, then Taylor took off and we all continued to throw the hammer down. We dropped a couple people from our original group. After about 5 more miles of this fast pace, I backed off.

I just decided to wait for the Daves and Christine. I took a photo, and Pryor came raging past me with a look of fury in his eyes, and without a word.

Joachim and Christine came through a bit later, and we kept a nice pace.

We met up with the rest of the group, sans Pryor, about 20 miles later. Selene stayed on with us for the rest of the day, but I sensed there was tension with her.

Turns out I was right. Dave was pissed they waited for us at lunch, and then we did a raging pace and left a few people behind. He used that bottled rage and blew the doors off everyone, and passed us. He later said he calmed down, but was riding so hard, so well and felt good, that he just kept the pace until the end.

He later told me at the bar about all of this. It wasn't completely my fault about everything, but I wasn't innocent, either. We all should have just kept a nice, normal pace for a while. But all was fine by the time we all finished the ride.

Anyway...it was a nice ride, and it was kind of cool to roll into a real city, knowing the nightlife would be good. And that there was a real brew pub in town!

We rolled up to some church, which is where we would stay the night. This town is not a place conducive to sleeping under the stars. So I went in, found a dark hallway, and set up my space. I was kind of excited to sleep inside again...again close to a remote bathroom that not too many people would use.

My stomach was feeling kind of not right all afternoon. There was only one shower in the building, and the other showers were at the Y a few blocks away. I wanted to shower before my massage, but I wanted the massage more. The woman was fine working on me in my truly disgusting, road-dirted up state. But, wow did she do a good job. I really needed it. I felt great afterwards, though I think the massage released some toxins that my stomach could no longer take.

At this point, my stomach was in real bad shape, and of course, I had to deal with everything that comes with intestinal issues. To put this as mildly as possible, this is not what you want to be going on with your backside when you still have about 150 miles of bike riding to do in the next two days. You want to be very careful with what goes on back there, and take very, very good care.

I was scared things were going to get ugly.

Things were manageable with my stomach early in the evening, so I felt fine enough to go to the Bullfrog Brewery with Taylor for some drinks and some food. I figured some food would help a lot. Taylor and I had a race with the seven beer samplers we tried. He won. It was only equal to about 2 and a half beers, and they have some great beers there.

I had two more regular beers, and a quesedilla. By this time, most of the ride had taken over the bar. But it was time to head to dinner. And this is where the guts really started to bother me.

We all walked down to the Young Republican's Club of Williamsport. As we walked in, all the patrons at the bar stood and gave us a standing ovation. It pretty much floored me.

Determined to mentally beat my stomach into submission, I dove into the pasta, bread and yes...beer that Budd Coates basically would not let me turn down. Fine.

I was definitely feeling ill in that place. Then we had our meeting, and it was a tough one.

With the portraits of FDR, Kennedy, Clinton and others watching us, we went through the usual business. Then Kelly Cary stood up to tell us the story of her brother.

Kelly did this ride in 2005. A few months after she returned from the ride, her older brother was diagnosed with a very rare cancer. And within a year, he was gone. And he had died a few weeks before this year's ride. It was a very emotional story and the tears were flowing from just about everyone in the building.

Thankfully, Budd got up and talked about the funny story that happened earlier in the day on the ride. Funny, but still moving. Here's the story...as best as I remember it:

As happens about once a day, someone drives past and gives us shit. One particular guy rode past a group in which Budd was riding. They guy yelled out to the group: "Get out of the way, you bunch of assholes." Or something very close to it. As we must, you just wave and say thanks...you don't provoke these people.

As it turns out, the car with the heckler was stopped by the same PennDot crew that stopped the group of bike riders. So Budd's group rolls up and the heckler was stuck with nowhere to go.

Budd decides to go over and apologize to the guy. Honestly apologize. He knocks on the window and the guy just looks forward with a bad look on his face. And his wife is riding shotgun.

Budd knocks again. Keep in mind that Budd is a very animated person, and can tell a great story.

The guy rolls down the window, and yells "WHAT!?"

Budd apologizes for having been in the way, and explains that we mean no harm, and that we're riding across PA to raise money to fight cancer. The guy then proceeds to say, "Then I'm the asshole, huh? Budd tells him, no that's not the case, and apologizes again.

The guy then reaches in and pulls out $20 and hands it to Budd. Budd tried to decline and say it wasn't necessary, but the guy insisted. Budd then asked for the guy's contact info so he could give the guy credit, etc. The guy refused and said. "Just give donation recognition to 'The Asshole.'"

So anyway...dinner ended and I high tailed it back to the church because I needed to visit the porcelain reading chair. I was definitely not feeling good at this point.

I decided to bail on my plans to go over to the brewery to finish out the night. I was scared, running to the bathroom and not happy. I was really worried that my ass would literally shred before I even got on the bike tomorrow. And if I did, that I would be dehydrated.

Not good. So I just lingered around the church, and called home and my parents, etc.

Joachim called me a few times, and finally I decided that I mentally needed to beat this. So I walked over to the brewery, but didn't have any beer. I told them what was up. Thankfully, I had a chef and the Fitness Chick in my group of friends. They understood and made me eat some potatoes and drink water. So that helped a little bit.

They all left, and I sat with Taylor for a bit. He was on a mission to have some fun, and was intent on staying at the bar until close. I left, and he stayed until close.

I rolled back to the church, got some stuff together quietly and then went to sleep. I crawled into the sleeping bag, worried and then fell asleep.