The day started (around 7.00 am) in an eventful way as, after getting ready to start our next stage, we soon discovered that we were off the official route and therefore in the wrong place to meet Jon and Coz. We quickly put the bikes back in the RV and tried to remedy the problem. After a couple of wrong turns, some panic, and several miles in the wrong direction, we finally managed to locate the gang, thanks to our on-bike GPS systems. Jon and Coz had done a great job of riding through the storm apart from one mishap. Somehow, in the midst of one of the changeovers Jon as usual had removed his front wheel (to enable his enormous bike to fit in the SUV) and then managed to depart in the SUV with the wheel still in the road. On realisation of their error (around 40 minutes later, as a result of Corrine getting a puncture), the crew (including Jon and Coz) returned as quickly as possible, only to find that the wheel had been crushed by a passing (possibly several) vehicle. Amidst all the shenanigans, we were once again passed by our German rivals. Anyway, back to the stage: after a moment of confusion with the GPS at the start of my first leg (lots of confusing turns), I pressed on along a quiet ‘English countryside-like’ road to the first changeover in Greenfield (OH). After taking a few minutes to swap over drivers, we set off after Tom only to discover that we’d lost him. We’d only made one turn since the changeover and presumed that Tom had failed to make the same. Fortunately, as we retraced our route, Tom, having realised his error, appeared on the road in front of us. The incident highlighted the need for better (or at least some) means of communication. In effect, despite the walkie-talkies that we’d brought and the mobile phones which we’d bought, neither were proving effective as a means of communication.

Shortly after the next changeover in Chillicothe (OH) (just before TS42) there was a strange junction which I very nearly got wrong. I knew, from looking at the route before this leg, that we were following the US 50, and there was a sign for that road pointing right. However, as soon as I made the turn as spotted the error on my GPS and quickly corrected my mistake. Not much of an incident really, but I was so pleased that I’d taken the correct route when, about 10 minutes later, I passed a race marshal parked at the side of the road. I wondered how many others would be caught out at this point of the route. The same marshal was to pass us several times in the next few miles, at one point to witness Jess, Alice, and Tom doing ‘the robot’ at the side of the road. I also passed the leading female solo rider during this leg.

Tom’s second leg involved a steady 300 ft climb and descent and we only just caught up with him in time after being held up for around 10 minutes at some road works. Jess and Alice were having a great time competing to see who could get the most trucks to sound their horns as they passed. Due to the lack of a better changeover point, we made my next change just behind the marshal’s car. I wasn’t worried as I felt confident that our changeovers were slick and ‘by the book’. However, I learned afterwards that the crew set off after me with the boot of the SUV open (oops!). Although my leg started with a climb, most of it was rolling terrain and I was making good progress until I had another GPS-related incident. While the route map clearly stated ‘follow sign to US 33 East. Do not bear right onto the freeway ramp’, I didn’t realise until it was too late. What’s worse was that we were due to make a changeover and in my attempt to recover the situation I’d somehow missed the crew. Presuming that they were still ahead of me, I continued on feeling really pleased with my speed and with the fact that I managed to subsequently negotiate the considerable road works in the busy city of Athens (OH). However, after another 20 minutes or so of riding, and with no sign of the crew, I got progressively more worried. In the end, since I felt that they must be behind me, and that riding on would most likely exacerbate the problem, I pulled over and sat by the side of the road. In the meantime, the crew, who had at first retraced their route thinking that I must have punctured, finally turned around and caught up with me. It was great to see them again, but we’d lost about 25 minutes as a result of the incident.

Whilst waiting for Tom during his next leg I devoured a big bag of ‘Cheetos’ (my appetite now well and truly restored) and the route continued to be pretty lumpy and quite busy as we neared the start of the Appalacians. My final leg, in particular, involved cycling along a number of major roads and negotiating several slip road entrances and exits. We finally rendezvoused with the rest of the team in Murphytown (WV) just after crossing the state border. It had certainly been an eventful stage. Instead of heading straight to bed as usual, I offered to buy everyone pizza as a treat. Unfortunately, we drove for over an hour before we found a suitable venue. Moreover, we had to wait for 20 minutes before our order was ready. Although the pizza, garlic bread and coke was great, it meant that I lost about 2 hours of sleep time, an issue I was to regret by the end of the next stage.