How have I not been to Nashville before? I mean, a city that is all about live music, BBQ'd meats, letterpress printing, and cowboy shirts?! I feel like nothing short of a conspiracy has kept this place off my radar until now. How fortunate though that I finally am experiencing this national treasure. While I have a pretty plush perch at the Hermitage, just blocks away, I have been headfirst into the grungy honky-tonks, record shops, and western wear stores that, if you know my wardrobe, are an indulgent dream.
These last 36 hours have been time off to recover from another week of intense riding. The mileage hasn't changed, but the landscape introduced a lot more climbing, and the deluge of rain didn't necessarily make it all easier.
I finally got my Trek Madone 6.9 back in action this week (many thanks to John Burke at Trek Bikes, Lance Armstrong, and the Trek Travel mechanics, Dan and Berkas, who pulled together to get it back on the road). That bike is so damn fast that I felt I just needed to push myself to put in some performances worthy of it. Thus, the last few mornings I ignored all advice to pace myself and just went out of the gate with reckless abandon. And, oh boy, has it felt great to push my heart rate into the red and keep it there for 100 miles.
Of course, there is absolutely no reason to blow through our routes quickly. We start so early in the morning that when we arrive at the next town, rarely are our rooms ready to be inhabited. So, greasing the course only exacerbates the waiting to be done on the other end. But, there has always been a certain competitive/self-destructive/extreme gene in me that just needs to push the envelope. In that light, while my body is indescribably sore, the last few days of riding into Nashville have left me feeling alive and strong.
Tomorrow, we strike back out toward the Atlantic. Just a week left now. It has been such a privilege to explore this great country so far and I am continually digesting both the celebration of, and concern I have for, our uniquely storied nation. For now though, I want to call out a couple more of the reasons why I am riding:
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Last, I need to point out that the supercool jerseys in these two photos were among those made for me by Hincapie Sportswear. Hincapie has consistently produced the best kits in cycling for years and each of their jerseys I wear while on the road invariably sparks a conversation from folks I meat along the way. George Hincapie is one of the most famous and accomplished cyclists in the world and, he and his brother Rich, take that same drive and put it into all the apparel they produce. I am beyond grateful for the chance to get suited up in Hincapie gear everyday. Be sure to check out what they can make for you.
And, on that note, I am shutting the lid on this laptop because a mere 126 miles await me in the morning. See you in Crossville, TN.
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