Heat was the limiting factor on days one and two. It wasn't a problem on day 3, with a vengeance.
Once again, I'm up at 6. I stay away from the eggs this time, and have oatmeal instead. (Much better.) I get to the bike a bit before 8, only to discover that I have a flat rear tire. Bummer. I have everything I need to fix it (tools, pump, spare tube), but I lose half an hour dealing with it. All the while, it's cool and drizzling lightly; not bad conditions if it stayed like that. Alas, it didn't.
Around 8:30, I finally leave camp. About one mile out, the sky lets loose with rain. Lots of rain. We're riding through Tropical Storm Fran. (It had been Hurricane Fran, but the winds had slowed by the time it reached Connecticut.) I put on my rain gear, but discover that the big Ziploc bags that I planned to cover my feet with weren't in my bike bag. (Probably forgot to pack them.) So most of me stays somewhat dry (though not as dry as I would like), but my feet get thoroughly soaked. (And I don't have any dry shoes, so they'll be soaked on Day 4 as well.) It's at its worst at lunchtime; I have to hang out at the lunch stop for an hour and a half, because it's just plain raining too hard to ride safely.
The riding today is very hilly, and because of the rain it's a lot tougher than it would have otherwise been. You can't take full advantage of the downhills, because you have to keep your speed down for safety.
Finally, coming up to the last pit stop, the day clears. The rain stops, and a bit of sun peeks out. We're riding on a lovely wooded road, along the side of a lake somewhere in Westchester County (we've crossed the border into New York by now). This was my most magic moment on the bike during the entire trip; I suddenly knew that I had survived this ordeal, and I would make it to the end.
I was nearly wrong. I got into the last stop a bit past 5:30 (it had been a slow day on the bike because of the weather). When I tried to leave, they didn't want to let me ride out -- somebody had decided that it had gotten too dark, and with the busy road conditions ahead, they didn't want to let us ride. Me and a lot of other riders disagreed with this decision, and piled up in a pack near the exit. Finally, The Powers That Be relented and let us ride the last 10 miles. As for the busy road conditions, they were nothing at all to a Boston bike commuter!
Getting off the bike and into a hot shower was sure welcome. First time I felt warm all day.
You could feel the change in mood in the camp that night. On the one hand, people were tired and wet. On the other hand, we all knew that we had Broken On Through To The Other Side -- the only thing left between us and the finish was a flat 50-mile ride. Piece of cake! The camp population seemed thinned out (some riders had probably given up somewhere during the day), but the ones who left were happy and proud.