Today may have been the hottest day I have rode this year. I was distraught all week leading up to Saturday due to not being able to find my cold weather cycling clothing. The last week of September on the seacoast very rarely allows for t-shirts and shorts in the morning. However, the leg warmers and shoe covers would not be needed today. Copious amounts of water would be however, much to my chagrin after not having drank enough.

The Tri-State Seacoast Century got off to a terrible start with a ghastly head wind on the 16.5 mile Salisbury out and back leg. Winds gradually decreased as I gained tree cover and the less open stretches of Ferry Road. I took my first break when I saw my friend Sean in front of his house. After some short conversation, I was enjoying a slight tail wind back into Salisbury and Hampton.

The ride was on in earnest after a quick stop at Hampton Beach State Park for a bathroom. While I was trying not to ride too fast early, the flats and tail wind had my speed generally in excess of twenty miles per hour through the beach areas until Odiome Point State Park. I was passing other bikers regularly at this point so I could both keep up my preferred pace and also not take advantage of wheel sucking in an attempt to ride the century solo.

New Castle and the coast leading into Portsmouth was a real treat. Wentworth by the Sea is a striking Grand Hotel as seen from the southern bridge crossing onto the island. Most visually stunning is the unoccupied Portsmouth Naval Prison which stands defunct on the southeastern edge of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard (as seen below from the northern end of New Castle island.

The ride through Portsmouth reminded me how amazing that city is for its intesting combination of the urban and historic along side a wide variety of outdoor recreational opportunists. That said, biking through downtown Portsmouth was hardly enjoyable and I was glad to pass through Kittery as well.

After some hills, York Harbor soon gave way to Lobster Cove and the first stretch of beaches since Rye. While mostly rocky and generally devoid of sand, I found the York beaches much less tarnished than its bigger more well known neighbors to the north and south. Especially the commercial district which had a nice community feel rather than the strips of Hampton and Old Orchard Beaches. Nubble Point was a nice break with its picturesque lighthouse.

Up until this point, I was feeling great but that was about to change dramatically. After making the turn at mile 54, I realized that the ride was half over and I had not eaten much yet. So I stopped for a Gatorade but the line for sandwiches was too long for my liking. I grabbed a quick snack, downed my Gatorade, and peddled away from York Beach with a slight dread for the hills between York Harbor and Kittery Point.

After a particularly steep hill halfway between these two points, I had to stop and take a break. I was really starting to feel the heat which was pushing into the high eighties. My water stores were rapidly decreasing and I knew the toughest stretch of the century was just ahead. My head was really pounding with the onset of an effort headache. I was not sweating despite the heat and exertion. Heat exhaustion was setting in and I had a severe lack of fluids. I was able to refill my bottles at the Fort McCleary water stop and take a long break. But I knew that the final third of the ride was going to be very difficult.

Hills were requiring lower gearing at this point but I was still able to spin at speed on the flats. The Portsmouth and New Castle sections were actually pleasant enough. The real pain was yet to come. As I passed Odiome Point, I began to think about flat roads along beaches and a final push towards the finish. Almost there. But coming out of the woods along the beaches, I got a crippling head wind and what felt like a never ending elevation increase despite the oceanside road.

At mile eighty-five, I had had enough. I stopped at a food bar to snag a slice of pizza. Sadly, they were out of pizza. I tried for a hot dog and almost barfed after a single bite. If I could have ended the ridet at that point, I would have without regret. There was nothing but a needless suffer fest in store for the final fifteen miles. My legs were fine and my body was physically taking the miles fine with only minor hand fatigue. But my head was pounding, my body dehydrated, and my overall state was worsening fast.

I started cycling again, mentally cutting out an upcoming ten mile loop that extends the ride to a full century. I swore vigorously. I grunted and moaned. I peddled. I spun for the finish line as fast as my body would allow, which was not very fast at all.

Seven miles after my last stop, I needed another break in the shade. I started again and bypassed the loop extension turn without a second thought. I soon started sucking wheel on another group to help beat the wind. And finally, it was mercifully over.

All told, I actually logged almost 95 miles in just under 6:06 moving time with a total time in excess of eight hours. Hardly the performance I had expected even in my detuned condition. But I had not expected to do a late September century in the hottest weather that I have peddled in all year.

When I got back home, I canceled plans for the evening. My brother asked me if I had any regrets for not completing the full century. “Heck no,” I answered. “I would have stopped at mile 85 if my car was there.” Given a cooler temperature and better hydration, I probably could have completed all one hundred miles an hour faster than my route which was ten miles shorter. I will never have regrets for bailing on a goal due to heath reasons. There is never a need to literally kill yourself to hit an arbitrary number.