If you’re expecting a story about Britney, forget it. This is my story of again doing a day’s ride - over 200 miles. Because the first day of summer fell on a Friday this year, and because of my brother’s schedule, I decided to take a day off and try the ride on the true longest day of the year, as it should be. My concern with this was that I might run into “rush hour” traffic. Especially since this was to be a round trip, instead of the one-way it was last time.

The day started as it did two years prior with an early wake-up. The slight chill in the air told me the temperature would not be as hot this time, as it was the first. I even started with a newspaper up the front of my jersey to shed the cold. It was an hour before I was to remove it.

The other change this year was my bicycle. Instead of the Serotta, I rode my new Trek 5500 carbon. Believe it or not, the Trek shaves six pounds due to a lighter frame, lighter wheels, and new, lighter components.

The traffic was much better than expected. My timing put me through Winchester after the morning rush. Crossing the Potomac is always nice. My first thought had been to see the Potomac and turn around. But then I got bullheaded about making Pennsylvania, so I decided to go to Hagerstown and then the state line. I reached Pennsylvania and decided to take State Line Road (PA 163) west a few miles, then cut back south on Maryland 63 to miss Hagerstown and come out again in Williamsport. The light that was out as I went north was still out as I returned south, and the traffic had gotten worse. But the cops directing the traffic got us through it eventually.

Turning back onto Maryland 63 is where I found out about the wind. I also was reminded that I had been traveling downhill until that point. The wind would tease me with sometimes feeling like it was behind me, but would also turn quickly and be in my face. And after crossing the Potomac again, I had to climb and climb again. The climbs really weren’t bad, but after already putting in over 100 miles, the undulations of the valley get to wear on you.

At about 150 miles, my left knee started giving me some pain. By 180 miles, my right knee joined in the pain. Time-wise I was doing well and could make it back to Harrisonburg before dark with a total of 235 miles. But by Woodstock I was fighting it too much. I pushed on to New Market, called my ride, and waited to be transported home to a much needed shower. Still, I had ridden 215 miles (two miles further than my last try). Though I vow not to try this again, maybe the third time’s the charm.