(In response to an invitation to recount his remembrance of the test
after a lapse of four years.)
"CENTRE BRIDGE, PENN.
"MY DEAR MR. FLETCHER:
"My remembrance of the trip is as follows: On August 10th, 1899, I
was spending the summer at Brolles, on the border of the Forest of
Fontainebleau in France, when you came to visit me and enjoy the forest
at the same time that you were conducting some chewing exercises and
planning an endurance-test on bicycle on the fiftieth anniversary of
your birthday. You were quietly living then according to the regimen
with which your name is now connected and I was pursuing the ordinary
habits of life which are common to artists abroad. The test was not
only to determine the endurance of yourself, but to furnish a contrast
with ordinary conditions of nutrition. We were eating at the same
table, with the same food available to each, and were taking about the
same amount of physical exercise. We turned in at night at the same
time, as people are apt to do in the country, and it was my custom to
rise at or before daylight. This habit of early rising came natural
to me from my farmer education and habitual practice, and yet I never
could surprise you early enough to catch you asleep. My first thought
on getting out was to stop under your window and chant the refrain,
'Mr. Fletcher, are you up?' in imitation of the catch-line of a popular
song of the year. Frequently the click of your typewriter warned me
that you were already at work, but you were always awake and ready for
'anything doing.'
"I was, at the time, thirty years of age and thought myself in good
condition and strong even for a farmer's boy; had previously done
considerable long-distance road-riding, including League of American
Wheelmen runs, etc., in competition with the 'cracker jacks'; and, to
be frank with you, thought the agreement to pace you on that particular
day a 'snap,' and I expected to lose you in the woods before long.
"The day was perfect, rather warm, as I remember it, and with little
or no breeze. Our start was made at 3.55 A. M. (arose at 3.30). Course
selected: To Fontainebleau and thence across country to Orleans, about
one hundred kilometers distant from Brolles. I considered Orleans the
limit and fully expected to have you return by railway from there.
"We were running at the rate of twenty to twenty-two kilometers the
hour, and from time to time I would look back for Fletcher, but he was
always at the same place at my rear wheel. A puncture delayed us for
some fifteen minutes, but when the great cathedral bell of Orleans
struck nine we were already there taking our first food of the day,
coffee and crescent rolls.
"We again started, after a short rest, down the Loire, always holding
the pace of twenty kilometers or better the hour in spite of the
undulations. We stopped occasionally for water and milk, a single
tumblerful of which satisfied both the thirst and the hunger of
yourself.
"To me, the ride, at about this period, became a grind, but Fletcher
seemed to get stronger and stronger and occasionally led the pace at a
terrific clip. My condition, as we neared Blois, became more than bad
with cramps in the legs. I had to dismount but couldn't stand up, and
for awhile, I thought they would have to carry me home. I appreciated
the kind inquiries sympathetically made and oft-repeated by yourself
as to my condition, but had you known, at the time, how I was cussing
your healthy appearance and impatience to proceed, you wouldn't have
bothered me so much with your sympathy. After a partial recovery and
the slow ride into Blois, six kilometers away, I left you, taking the
train back to Paris, you having decided to go it alone for the rest of
the day and thus complete the test.
"The arrival at Blois was about 1.30 P. M. (170 kilometers--a little
above 100 miles) and took about nine hours, including stops, to
accomplish. The next morning we received your dispatch from Saumur,
nearly another hundred miles down the Loire, telling us that the run
to that point had been completed by 10.10 P. M. that night, and Mr.
Fletcher returned the next day as fresh and as strong as I had ever
seen him at any time during the summer.
"Starting the day following with wife and daughter for a bicycle ride
through France to Switzerland I accompanied your party as far as
Geneva, and the only thing I couldn't discover was how a man who ate so
little could travel so far and seem never to get tired.
(Signed) "Very sincerely,
"E. W. REDFIELD."
"Sept. 17th, 1903."