Did you ever use the expression "it's a day's drive"? In older times, they used "a day's ride", meaning by horseback. But did you ever try to use it for bicycling? I read an article a while ago about a guy who uses the summer solstice to gauge what a day's ride is. He would start at sunrise and stop at sunset. The miles traveled would constitute his "day's ride". Well, I've often thought about that idea. And this year, after doing some good weekend riding (high mileage both days), and doing 61 miles one day after work, I had the idea that my time was now to see what a day's ride was.

I kicked around the idea in my head that I could ride back to Allentown, PA. Straight up 11 to Harrisburg, PA. Then onto 22 into Fredericksburg, PA. From there it's backroads I've ridden in the past to get to Allentown. My mapping program told me it was 260 miles. Doing some quick math, I didn't think I'd make it the whole way, so I called my brother and asked if he'd like to take a drive and help me on my quest. He agreed and I set the date for four days later on June 24th. Had I given myself more time to plan, I may not have even attempted the ride.

After a surprisingly good night's sleep (usually I toss and turn before a big ride), I awoke Saturday with some nervousness. But all signals said "go", so I started off at 5:38am. The cool air gave rise to some patchy fog, but the riding felt good, knowing the afternoon would get hot. Route 11 is actually a nice little road, until about 10am when the traffic starts picking up.

I made Winchester by 9am and refilled my water bottles. Hagerstown, MD was made around 11:30. 106 miles down. Good average speed (18.3mph). I'm pleased, and pleasantly surprised. I was expecting more hills, but 11 is relatively flat. Slowdowns occurred because of traffic lights. Route 11 seems to have quite a few. The wind was non-existent. After this point, I'd be in uncharted mileage territory. I lingered longer at this stop for a sandwich and more liquid. Pushing off again at noon, I had a small crosswind pick up, but just until I wound my way out of town.

After crossing the Potomac, it's one long, subtle climb to Harrisburg, with small hills intermixed. But now the wind started, and the way I liked it - from the southwest. I was surprised to be traveling at 20-26mph at times. The temperature had now reached 87. I reached Shippensburg, where my brother attended college, after two more hours. I should have stopped, but ended up pushing into Carlisle. The cold fluids tasted good, though I was beginning to like warm Gatorade. Of course, I was also juxtaposing "Take Me Home, Country Roads" with "Pour Some Sugar On Me" and believing they had the same musical structure. It's 3pm and I've done 160 miles so far. Still feeling good, but the rest sure helps.

Off again, and Carlisle's downtown was closed for a celebration. I lost my route for a few blocks, but found it again in a few minutes. I've decided on Route 614. It looked less traveled than 11, plus it might save some miles. My mind kept saying that I'd be going downhill soon because I was going towards the Susquehanna River. But the road kept saying "up". Through Camp Hill and a quick detour to my friend's house in New Cumberland. 4:30 and 180 miles. I had hoped he'd be home, but no one ever came to the door. So I continued into Pennsylvania's state capitol. Coming out of Harrisburg, I continued onto Route 22. I was hoping to refresh myself before getting out of the city, but I didn't like the looks of the neighborhood. So I pushed on. My mistake. Route 22 was a major road before I-78 came into existence. Now the gas stations/food marts were at the interchanges. So I pushed on. At 190 miles, I was getting tired. A little later I went to check the odometer to mark my double century, but I had already passed it. My water bottles were almost empty. The next stop I knew was further than I wanted it to be. But luckily, a place to stop came into view. It was 6:15 and I had 203 miles under me. It was time for a Yoo-Hoo. And time to call my brother. My back hurt, my shoulders hurt, my neck hurt. But mostly, the balls of my feet hurt, especially the right foot. I had a few more miles in me, but I figured my brother should start driving and find me.

Back on the bike, and for the first time my butt hurt to sit. It didn't help that the road had turned into a typical beat-up Pennsylvanian road. I did another ten miles into Fredericksburg. I had had enough. I found a phone and called my brother on his cell phone to give him a landmark to find me. It was just after 7pm. I had another hour and a half of daylight, but I had also had enough. My goal was at least 200 miles. I had 213 and still had my legs and knees. Another twenty miles or so wasn't worth it. Just over twelve hours on the bike at an average speed of 17.5mph. My brother showed up after about twenty minutes with food and clothing. We put the bike in the car, I washed up and changed, and we headed back to Harrisonburg. My day's ride was over.