The school gym, where we will all sleep (apart from those people who headed for Long Beach Island hotels, and those brave few who ventured across to the high school) is now colorfully decorated with everyone's wet clothing hanging from every conceivable place around the walls, climbing ropes, basketball hoops, bleachers, tennis nets, etc. I play cards with a group of people who have selected the same corner of the gym floor to sleep on. It's the corner farthest from the door & the locker room, that way no one steps on you in the middle of the night. Lights out is going to be at 10 but by 9 I'm ready to sleep, I remembered to bring a radio and headphones, this works great to cut out any noises and I sleep well until 5.

Sunday morning we awaken to hear the rain pounding on the gym roof, it sounds brutal. I think that was enough to persuade some people not to ride. I'm looking on the optimistic side again (hmm, you'd think I would learn!) and decide that however bad it is today it couldn't possibly be worse than yesterday. I decide to do without the wind jacket today, all it did was keep me wet. I reason that bicycle clothing is designed to dry quickly, normally so that you don't get soaked in sweat, so it should dry quickly if the rain stops, right? 7:30 we get our route notes for the day and those of us who haven't the sense to stay out of the rain, (did I mention it was pouring again?) head off for Cape May 84 miles away. I reason that the secret to surviving today is to keep pedaling as fast as possible, I hook up with another couple of riders and we are pacing through the pinelands at 21 mph, we skip the first rest stop and I stop at the second. All that cold & rain coupled with several cups of tea for breakfast means that the provision of portable toilets at the rest stop is much appreciated. Of course, one of the problems with wearing bike shorts and riding in the cold and rain is that it causes significant shrinkage and this can make the bathroom visit a bit of a challenge, kind of reminiscent of that parlour game, 'hunt-the-thimble'!! Enough said.

Miraculously the rain gradually tapers off and the day turns into a great riding day. Couple the change in weather with the long flat stretches of road though those south Jersey shore towns, and a wonderful tailwind and the weekend ride begins to seem like a good idea. Because we were hastened on by the early rain, we arrive too early for lunch, the sandwiches have not arrived, so we content ourselves with PB&J on white bread and more bananas. Most of the riders I spoke to agreed that they see so many bananas on these rides that they can't look at another one for weeks. No ducks swimming across the road today. The bridges on this ride are all metal grate type, so that involves dismounting and walking across each one, as the day goes by it gets increasingly painful to walk, but the alternative is to risk ending up like a piece of cheese on a cheesegrater. Not a pretty sight. I've seen it happen, and would rather be safe and walk.

I make the mistake of tempting the fates by thinking to myself, that I'm quite surprised that I haven't got a flat tire, so many people do on this ride. Perhaps it is because I have new tires, and all those other riders took the risk of running on worn treads. Still, it's now only a mile to the last rest stop and then on the to the finish line 10 miles beyond. Something starts to feel a little different. I think at first it might be my saddle, but I had tightened that up at the last stop, because it had become a little loose. Perhaps the roads are becoming rougher, that last bump was awfully harsh. I glance down at my rear tire, and notice it looks a little soft. Oh no! Perhaps I can make it to the rest stop it's only half a mile away, but no, the tire goes flat. I can't risk damaging it, so I stop at the side of the road and unpack a spare tube, tire levers and pump. I whip off the back wheel and remove the inner tube. Luckily I easily find the hole in the tube and find the small piece of glass that has cut through my tire. A few minutes later, after a dozen riders pass me and inquire if everything is okay, I'm back on the bike and stop at the rest stop where a full size pump enables me to put some proper pressure back in the tire. It's so hard to pump to 110 psi with a tiny pump, even if it is double action.

It's time to head for the finish line, covered in road dirt from the roadside repair. The last 10 miles was great with the image of a tall glass of Killians ale beckoning me on, I hope they have it? If not I'll have a Guinness, if they have that... Just to be on the safe side I decide that I will have a bottle of each. The hardest part of the whole 170 mile ride was the last 1/2 mile straight to the finish line, we had looped around and now had a headwind, which took me completely by surprise, so much for my plans for a high speed finish, I barely top 18mph.

The FINISH. Lots of cheers from the crowd. I'm sure they cheer everyone, but it's nice to pretend it's just for me. I sign in, I'm one of the first few in (I think 15 people are ahead of me) so I am allocated a place on the first bus back to Sandy Hook. It's scheduled to leave at 3:30pm so I grab a hamburger from the barbecue, and jump on the bus that is ferrying us to the showers at the local high school, I say local, but it seems like a 20 minute ride. Once again it feels good to be in clean dry warm clothing. We catch the bus back to the Coast Guard Base (that's where the finish line is). I head for the bar and enjoy both those cool well-earned beers. A couple more hamburgers and the 3:30 bus is ready to load up bikes and riders and take us home. I sleep on the bus ride back. We arrive in Sandy Hook around 6:30, unload the bus & load up the car. After a frantic fruitless search for my car key, I use my spare key. Back to Flemington by 8pm. I wonder how the kids survived without me?

All in all it was a great weekend. I had more fun than last year. It just shows what getting in shape, training and a faster/lighter bike can do. I knocked a total of 11 hours off my time for the same route last year! At this rate, if I do the tour again next year I should be finished before I start.