My 2016 Pan Mass Challenge started almost as soon as the
2015 event was over. The ride in August 2015 for Debbie DiPerna was
inspirational and I decided, at that time, that I would be even better in 2016.
My goal was to be better prepared both physically and mentally, and so, I
continued to train and ride through the Fall. I even participated in an
aggressive indoor training program at my local bike shop in November, December
and January.
I registered for the 2016 PMC in early January and felt
pretty good about how I was doing in terms of my strength and ability. Then in
February, travel for my job heated up and continued through mid-May. I was all
over the US and UK and was hardly home for more than three days at a time.
Although I always took my workout gear with me, there were no rides, certainly
no long rides, for weeks on end. I slowly watched my cycling fitness level and my
self-confidence slip away. During this time, we learned that my sister-in-law,
Cheryl, had been diagnosed with lymphoma. Her treatment was going well but the
threat of cancer looms large for her and her family and I knew that my ride
this year would be for her. By the time I was home and able to start training
again, it was the third week in May and only about eleven weeks before the PMC
on the first weekend in August and the 200 mile event for which I had signed up.
YIKES!!!!
One of the PMC key phrases is, “Commit. You’ll figure it
out.” I knew I was fully committed and
so I knew I had to figure it out. With thoughts of Cheryl on my mind, I went
back to Training 1.0 and slowly clawed my way back to fitness, relying on what
my coach, Scott, had taught me the year before. I alternated speed work with
grinding hill climbs. I rode in heat and rain and gradually increased distances
from 20 and 30 miles to 45, 60 and 80 miles. The legs slowly came back which
lead to my confidence returning as well. By mid-July, I thought I might
actually be ready by the first weekend in August.
Another aspect of the preparation for the 2016 PMC was that
I was not just thinking about my own performance.
My PMC ride last year was dedicated to a wonderful person
and close family friend, Debbie DiPerna, who was taken from us by cancer in
late June, 2015. Debbie’s spirit was with me during the 2015 ride and helped me
to conquer the hills and push my limits for speed and efficiency. She was my
inspiration. Debbie’s husband, Gary, watched the PMC riders last year with the
pain of losing his wife fresh in his heart. He watched, cheered, rang a cowbell
and supported the PMC riders whose goal was to eliminate the disease that had
taken his wife. Gary decided, on that Saturday in August, to participate in the
Pan Mass Challenge in 2016.
Gary is a strong minded person who enjoys a challenge. A
professional percussionist, Gary knows the pressure of performing complex works
of music with major orchestras and the grind of being on the road for months on
end with touring companies of major musicals. When Gary commits to taking on a
challenge, he is committed one hundred percent.
Gary had not ridden a bicycle for any long distance in a
long time although he was a runner so he knows how to push himself and to be
alert to the messages his body sends. But this challenge was different. Not only is the Pan Mass Challenge a long,
grueling bicycle ride, but you have to
do this with 6,000 other riders in weather conditions that you may not know
until a day or two in advance. Hot, cold, rain, or clear skies, you will ride with seasoned
veterans who expect you to know what you are doing and folks that may not have
ridden in a large group ever before and have no clue what to do when they are
in the midst of lots of other riders. Sort of like mixing Formula One drivers
with a bunch of students from the Acme Driving School. And every level in
between.
I went bike shopping with Gary, talked to him about training
and, I hope, helped him to have an idea what he would face. I felt responsible
for Gary even though I knew he was capable of preparing himself.
And he did.
By the time we got close to PMC weekend this year, Gary had
trained hard on hills, ridden long distances, ridden in blinding downpours and
even had a fall or two. He set personal goals and achieved them one by one. He
prepared himself in every way. He was a rock and he was ready.
Friday, August 5th
Gary came to my house mid-day on Friday and, after a quick
tune up of both our bikes, we put them on the rack on the back of my car and
headed for Sturbridge Mass to pick up our registration packages and meet up
with our team-mates. I had introduced Gary to several of the folks I ride with
at the time of the 2015 PMC. As these kind and generous folks had done with me,
they welcomed Gary into the team as soon as they found out that he intended to
ride. We did a training ride as a group in mid-July in Maine so our little band
of riders knew each other well. When Gary and I got to Sturbridge and were in
line to pick up our registration packages, we ran into Neil (the team Captain
and a great friend), Tommy, George, John and Dan. We were like teenagers with
our enthusiasm and high spirits flowing in abundance. It is hard not to be
excited at PMC registration and even harder not to have a good time when you
are with these really great guys.
When a rider who will participate in the PMC for the first
time picks up his registration packet, the support staff ring cowbells and
shout “FIRST TIME RIDER!!!” and the large conference hall explodes into cheers.
It was no different when Gary picked up his packet except that he was
surrounded by team-mates who were louder than anyone else in the room. Welcome
to PMC world, Gary.
While several of our team mates had reserved hotel rooms
nearby, some folks had signed on to stay with Gail and me in Holliston. As a
gang we had some laughs and a couple of beers and, shortly thereafter, Gary,
John, George and I hopped in the car and made our way back to Holliston for a
great meal (lots of carbs) with Gail, Meg, Alan and our friend, Judi. We
watched the PMC opening ceremonies on WBZ television as we ate, drank and
chatted. Our house was full of laughter,
high spirits, thoughts of those lost and hope for an end to this disease. Shortly after the end of the broadcast, we
all decided that bed was a good idea and at about 9:30pm, we headed off to get
whatever sleep we could before our agreed upon wake up time of 3:30am.
Saturday, August 6th: The Journey to
Bourne (or finding
our Bourne Identity if you prefer)
I never sleep well the night before the PMC start. Even
though I know what the route has in store for me and that I am ready for the
challenges that lie ahead in the next two days, the anxiety gets to me and I
worry. I had finally fallen asleep around 11:30 pm but slept fitfully,
concerned that I would oversleep and miss the start and concerned that I would
make the start but fail to finish the ride. When the alarm sounded at 3:15 (I
wanted to be up early to get breakfast ready), I was jolted into reality and
was up and getting dressed before I was really awake.
It seems to me that most of the early morning before the
start is me on auto-pilot. I am awake and aware but just going through the
motions of what I know I need to do to get myself and others ready. Getting
dressed, making coffee, getting the food out; it’s all just doing what needs to
be done and, for me, part of the waking process.
The gang slowly appeared. Most admitted that they had not
slept well either but we put that behind us and had a breakfast of fruit,
bagels, toast, peanut butter and lots of coffee. We had all donned our team
jerseys and hot pink socks (I’ll explain later) and we all double checked that
we had what we needed for the next two days. Then it was into the car and off
for the 45 minute drive to Sturbridge and the start of day one of the PMC.
The morning of the PMC start in Sturbridge is unique for me.
There are literally thousands of cyclists making final preparations for the
ride and the focus and intensity of those mental, physical and mechanical
preparations is palpable. There is lots of laughter but the underlying
seriousness of what we are about to do is evident. As the sky started to
brighten in the east, our team gathered and Gail took a team photo. We did a
final check of the bikes and ourselves. I turned to Gail no less than three
times in the final few minutes before the start and quietly said “Holy
CRAP!!” After I finally calmed myself
down, I checked in with my friends. We were ready.
PMC founder, Billy Starr, welcomed everyone, gave a few
words of caution and encouragement. As dawn was breaking, Andrew Garland, a
world renowned baritone and a colleague of Gail’s, sang a beautiful rendition
of our National Anthem. Bravo, Andrew. Then, after a final countdown, we were off.
The first few miles after the start are all about getting
the feel of the bike, the feel of group riding, the feel of the road conditions
and most importantly, getting the body warmed up and functioning smoothly. We
need to get used to all of these things and to be prepared to deal with them
for many hours. Settling into a pace and a groove that you can sustain over the
long miles is essential. Push too hard early on and you will fail before the
end. Go too easy and you will find yourself at the back of the pack wishing
that you were not and push too hard to catch up. Adrenaline is always a factor
and can be your best friend as long as you don’t allow it to drive you too
hard. If you let it, that natural adrenaline will become your worst enemy
causing you to push beyond your long term capabilities and will lead to your
body shutting down or “bonking” in cyclists terminology. Gary and I found a groove
and a pace that was comfortable but slightly faster than normal and decided to
go with it.
The initial climb on day one is at mile five in Charlton. This is
a long gradual hill which starts after a slight rise and a hard 90 degree right
turn, so there is no ability to get any momentum before the start of the climb.
All you can do is drop a few gears and grind it out. I was pleased that, while
other riders were really challenged by this early climb, both Gary and I conquered
it relatively easily. Once over the crest, the road levels out and our spirits
were buoyed by the folks at the side of the road cheering us on. Their smiles,
waves and shouts of encouragement put a big grin on my face and, I have to say
that even though this was my 7th year, it felt just like year number
one to me and my heart swelled with joy and pride. I was so grateful to be able
to participate in this wonderful event again and so glad to introduce Gary to
the promise of hope that is the PMC.
The first twenty five miles include rolling hills and
idyllic countryside. We passed farms and forests and ponds all of which made
the ride very enjoyable. We heard roosters crowing, cattle mooing and car horns
honking (in support of us). This year the weather was almost perfect and the
rising sun added to the beauty of the day. We rolled up hills and down and after
a couple of hours, we pulled into the first water stop of the day in
Whitinsville. The day was warming up and it was good to know that we were
almost one quarter of the way through day one.
After a brief stop to fill our bottles with water and
Gatorade and our stomachs with fruit and fluffer-nutters (mmmmmmm), we were
back on the road and headed to the next stop in Franklin. The road rolled along
beneath us. We went past a large pond and, even at 7:30 in the morning, there
were folks on boats in the water waiving and cheering us on. There were families
by the side of the road that, while the parents waived as they sipped morning
coffee, the kids banged cowbells or held signs with “GO PMC RIDERS” or other
phrases of encouragement in large, colorful letters. What a day and what an
event.
The miles flew by and I was pleased to see that Gary was
able to continue at a pace that was faster than he was used to riding. This
section of the course has some challenging hills. Some are long, gradual climbs
that require endurance and tenacity and others are short, steep hills that
require strength. Gary would occasionally, after one of these ascents, ask me
if there were any more hills we would encounter that day. My response was
usually something along the lines of “Nothing major” or “We are pretty much
done with hills for the day”. Gary soon learned that I was sugar coating things
a bit but he never failed to rise to the occasion. Although some stretches of
the route were tougher than others, he continued to seem comfortable with the
effort and, before long, we found that we had done another seventeen miles and
that we were at the water stop in Franklin, MA already.
I will, once again, take a moment to describe the water
stops and the wonderful volunteers that man them. Picture a large school parking
lot that can accommodate several hundred cars. Now, picture that parking lot
filled with over a thousand cyclists at any one time for over three or more
hours. Imagine how hungry and thirsty those riders are and how much food,
water, Gatorade, and other nutrients are needed to fuel those riders. These and
many other needs are all met by a legion of volunteers who not only man the
tables where the food is served, but who carry trays of fruit and sandwiches
throughout the crowd of riders, carry gallons of water and Gatorade to fill
bottles, provide medical and mechanical services and do it all with smiles and
words of encouragement. At many locations, they do this in costumes. Think hula
skirts (even on 60 year old men), Hawaiian shirts and leis and everyone with a pleasant
demeanor and a smile. But they do not
only serve the food and drinks, they prepare it as well. In one recent year,
volunteers prepared and served 19,000 bananas, 14,000 bags of trail mix, 9,800
hamburgers, 7,000 Cliff bars, 6,800 slices of pizza, 5,500 hotdogs, 3,000
bagels, 3,000 lbs. of chicken, 1,600 loaves of bread, 1,400 lbs. of pasta,
1,300 lbs. of peanut butter, 500 lbs. of sliced turkey, 500 lbs. of sliced ham,
275 watermelons, and, after the riding is done for the day, 160 kegs of beer. By
the way, leftover food is donated to local food banks.
At the stops there is motivational music pumped out over
(very) loudspeakers and everywhere you look volunteers, riders, friends and
families are dancing. It is a party atmosphere but with an underlying
seriousness in tone. We all know that, after a few minutes of relaxation and
fun, the riders need to get back on their bikes and the volunteers need to get
back to work. There are over 4,000 volunteers that help us riders in many ways and
we are extremely grateful for the long hours they work and the positive
attitude and energy that they all show as they cater to our every need. Bravo!
We rolled out of the Franklin school yard and got ready for
the excitement of Cherry Street in Wrentham. As I have mentioned in previous
narratives of my PMC participation, Cherry Street is famous with PMC riders.
The history is that a high percentage of families who live on this rural, country
road have been touched, either directly or indirectly, by cancer. As a result,
they are all longing for a cure and they come out in full force to cheer us on
and show their support as we pedal by. This year there was a steel drum band
playing Caribbean music, oriental drummers thundering out a rhythmic tattoo, a
jazz trio, a pipe and drum corp. (bag pipes are always cool) and lots and lots
of families. There were folks in costumes, kids holding signs, more kids
offering “high-fives” and lots of clapping and cheering. In all, hundreds of folks
from Cherry Street and the surrounding area come out to see us. It is an
awesome experience.
Toward the end of this entourage of support were Gail, Meg, Alan,
Gary’s son Gary Jr. with his wife Stacey and their daughter Charlotte and
Gary’s daughter Fran with her fiancé Mike. Everyone had a cowbell which they
rang ferociously. You could hear the din from a hundred yards away. As Gary and
I approached, they went even more wild and, as we stopped to say “Hi”, we were
both grinning from ear to ear.
There was time for photos, hugs, some laughs and lots of
loving support but, before long, it was time to mount up and get back to work.
We still had over twenty miles to go before the lunch stop but we were still
smiling as, one after one, the miles slid past. This section of the route is
relatively flat and rolls through tidy neighborhoods, by beautiful golf
courses, wooded countryside and large working farms. The day was getting warm as the thin cloud
cover that was present for most of the morning had finally burned off. I
reminded myself and Gary that it is extremely important to hydrate while
riding, especially as the temperature climbs. I was feeling hungry and
remembered that I had stuffed some nutrition into one of the back pockets of my
jersey so I reached back and found a package of Shot Blocks which are a
nutrient loaded gel cube and downed one. I like them because they are easy to
chew and digest and, with some water to wash it down, it will give me what I
need to get through more miles. Not as good as a fluffer-nutter, but it did the
job.
There are a couple of significant climbs within the last
five miles of this segment. The first one starts out shallow and then increases
in grade as you climb. It is a long slog. Once over the top of the hill, there
is time to recover until, about two miles before the lunch rest stop, there is
a fairly short but very steep climb that had a lot of riders walking to the
top. Neither Gary nor I needed to get off the bike as we managed to muscle
through these last two rises and, after that it was a pretty fast couple of
miles until we saw the volunteers ahead cautioning riders to slow down and make
the left turn into Dighton-Rehoboth High School and the large tent behind it
that held lunch for us.
With seventy miles behind us and the bikes parked, we made
our way into the tent and both of us downed water and then looked for some
sustenance. Unfortunately, by the time
we got there the pickings were somewhat slim. The sandwiches being offered were
Turkey and Seafood Salad. The turkey sandwich consisted of one thin slice of
dry turkey breast on a bulkie roll. No lettuce, no tomato, nothing. Just a dry
thin slice of turkey on a roll. The Seafood salad was even less appetizing as
it was a mayonnaise based concoction which had been sitting out in hot weather
for quite a while. I choked down a turkey sandwich with some mustard to moisten
it a bit and then went for several pieces of melon and other fruit. More water
completed my meal but, unfortunately, I finished feeling pretty unsatisfied. I
understand that it is hard to estimate the volume of food required for this
location and also to know the timing of when it will be needed. No complaints
about the volunteers, but the lunch was lack luster and disappointing. Gary and
I finished up and did the usual routine of topping up our bottles before
heading out. Just before we left, I noticed that my rear tire was a bit soft
and so I stopped by the mechanic’s tent and borrowed a floor pump to add some
pressure. With no more thoughts about it, we set off to the next stop,
Lakeville, with eighteen miles to get there and only forty miles until the end
of day one.
The next portion of our journey was relatively uneventful.
No steep or grinding climbs to deal with and all went pretty well until I
noticed that the back of my bike was feeling squishy. I asked Gary to take a
look as we rode and he confirmed that my rear tire was nearly flat. We were
about five miles from the water stop and I contemplated just filling the tube
with air from one of the CO2 cartridges in the small repair bag under my bike
seat but decided that doing half the job was not the way to go. I pulled over,
pulled the back wheel off the frame and, using the tire irons from my repair
kit, I had the tire off and tube out in no time. I found the tiny hole in the
tube but found no evidence of what had caused it on the inside or outside of
the tire nor on the rim itself. I had a replacement tube which I always carry
with me and got that installed in the tire and got the tire back on the rim
just as a PMC support vehicle came by. They offered to inflate the tire with a
floor pump (much higher pressure than my CO2 cartridges can supply) and with
that, I put the wheel back on the bike. Less than ten minutes after we had
stopped, we were back on the road. For a short while.
Less than two miles down the road, I noticed the same
squishiness from the back of the bike and I was forced to stop again. Same
issue but this time a support vehicle came by and not only supplied a new tube
but also gave me a new tire. We agreed that there must be something in the
tire, like a tiny piece of wire, which would continue to puncture each new tube
I put in it. I was grateful for the replacement equipment and they even gave me
another spare tube “just in case”. Back on the road, after another ten minutes,
and then it was into the water stop in Lakeville in short order.
Lakeville is a special stop for many PMC riders as that is
where we meet up with our Pedal Partners. For many years, the organizers of the
Pan Mass Challenge have worked with Dana Farber Cancer Institute to identify
children and their families who have been stricken by cancer. With the
permission of these families, the PMC puts them in touch with teams of riders
who have agreed to ride on behalf of and in support of these children or, as
they are known, Pedal Partners. Our team had been put in touch with Jessica and
David Madsen, the parents of Addy Madsen, a delightful 5 year old who had been
in treatment for cancer for most of her young life. Addy is remarkable in that,
she is so happy and full of life, it is hard to imagine all she has gone
through. Her parents and her sister Casidhe are loving, caring and genuinely
nice people that have weathered the storm of treatments, hospitalizations, side
effects and the exhaustion that comes with fighting cancer with indefatigable
strength, grace and humility. We were delighted when they allowed us to call
Addy our Pedal Partner and getting to know them all has been a real joy.
For the past three years, Neil, our team captain and I have
designed a jersey for the team to wear based on colors, images and concepts
that are special to our Pedal Partners. Neil discovered this year that Addy
loves the colors pink and purple, Super Girl and especially loves to dance to
“Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift. Neil suggested that we develop a Super Girl
themed jersey and adopt the name “Super Hero Addy’s Cancer Shakers”. Below is a representation of the final product
which we wore when we met Addy and her family at the Pedal Partner Party at the
water stop in Lakeville.
We donned the hot pink socks I mentioned earlier, wrapped
our handle bars in pink bar tape and even rode with little playdough containers
(empty, thankfully) fastened to the tops of our helmets because playdough is
Addy’s favorite toy. We received lots of
compliments on our cycling “kit” from other riders during the day and many kids
along the route had nicknamed us Team Playdough but nothing compared to seeing
Addy and her radiant smile in the Pedal Partner tent that afternoon. If I ever
have even half the strength, resolve, tenacity, compassion and spirit that Addy
and her family possess, I will consider myself a truly rich man.
When it was time to leave, we headed out for the last twenty
two miles of the day. There are some busy streets and traffic to deal with on
this last leg but no hills to speak of. We ticked off the miles without a
hitch. No more flat tires or anything. (Whoopee!!)
Our team of cyclists has a tradition of regrouping at a
small pub in Wareham called Narrows Crossing which is located on route 6 where
it crosses the Wareham River. The “Narrows” is about four miles from the finish
and gives us the opportunity to ride together as a complete team for the last
few miles. It also gives the opportunity to get off the bike for a minute or
two, share a laugh with friends and have a Guinness, one of my favorite
beverages. We did all those things and then it was time to push on to the Mass
Maritime Academy and the end of our journey on day one.
As Gary and I made the final right turn and rolled up the
driveway to MMA, we found Gail, Gary Jr. Fran and Mike waiting for us with big
smiles and warm hugs (despite the fact that we were really sweaty). We crossed
the finish line and congratulated each other on getting the job done. Soon
after, we parted ways for the evening. Gary and his family were going to stay
with a relative on the Cape and Gail and I had a room booked at an Inn in
Falmouth. I was looking forward to a shower, a good meal and a good nights’
sleep. Sunday morning would come early and I wanted to be as ready as possible.
We agreed to meet at 4:45am on Sunday, August 7th
at Mass Maritime for a 5am launch on day two of our epic Pan Mass Challenge
journey for 2016. Through some miscommunication (and lack of efficient
cat-herding) our team was finally all assembled at about 5:30am. Everyone had
experienced a good evening and gotten a reasonable night’s rest and we were
finally set to go.
We launched at a good pace down Main Street in Bourne and,
just before we were to turn onto the access ramp to cross the Bourne Bridge, we
came to a grinding halt. There was a traffic jam of cyclists going in one
direction and cars going in another. The good news is that the cyclists far
outnumbered the cars (and there were police working to assist us) but the bad
news was that a three lane road full to both sides with hundreds of riders needed
to condense down to one six foot wide lane to cross the bridge. We were like
cattle being herded into a chute and we were all subject to the speed of the
slowest riders ahead of us. Needless to say, it took a while to get onto and
over the bridge.
Once we reached the apex and started the down side descent,
however, the pace did pick up. We left the bridge and, after a couple of turns,
we headed for the Cape Cod Canal: a long, flat stretch of wide pavement that
lets riders open up a bit and enjoy the beautiful view as the sun rises over
the canal way and Cape Cod.
This is where I made a tactical error. When we were
ascending the bridge, Gary and I got separated and I thought he was behind me.
In reality, he may have been, but he must have passed me on the descent and
continued on. I did not know that he was ahead and so, before heading onto the
canal path, I stopped and waited for him. Five minutes, ten minutes and then I
figured I must have missed him and launched onto the path to make up some time.
I was cruising along at 20mph or better and kept looking but never caught up
with him. Not wanting to leave a first time rider behind, I stopped at the end
of the canal path and waited again. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes. When I
heard a volunteer say that there was almost no one left on the path, I realized
that Gary must be far ahead and hopped on the bike to make up for lost time.
The PMC has, for two years in a row, advertised a rider tracking app which, in
theory, would allow friends and family and other cyclists to check on the
location of any particular PMC rider and see where she/he is at any point in
time. The 2015 app was an abysmal failure (it required the rider to leave their
phone on and connected via cell net at all times thereby crushing battery life
within a few hours and still not providing accurate tracking data). This year’s
app was not any better from a functional point. I tried to locate Gary in
relation to my position but the app told me my position was 16 miles away from
where I actually was. I contacted Gail and some other folks to see if they
could track Gary or me. One person told me Gary was 8 miles behind me, another said
he was 45 miles behind me and the others could not find him or me at all. So
much for cutting edge technology.
The reality was that Gary had gotten onto the Canal Path and
cranked away at 16-17mph. Even though I was traveling faster, it is hard to
make up fifteen minutes at a 3-5mph differential. When there is only eight
miles to do it in, it is impossible. So, I finally realized that I was a full
45 minutes behind the group with 12 miles to go before I got to the water stop
where they had just arrived and were waiting for me.
I decided, probably foolishly, to drop the hammer and get to
the water stop in Barnstable as quickly as possible. There are some great
rolling hills on the Service Road between Sandwich and Barnstable and I used
the momentum of the down side of the hills to help propel me up the steep following
sides and did this mile after mile maintaining a high speed. Even after the
Service road ends, Route 6A is conducive to a good steady high speed pace and I
flew the last few miles to the stop to catch up with my team mates. When I got
there, I had ridden 12 miles in one half hour: a personal best for me (and my
legs could feel it).
I found my friends patiently waiting for me at the
Barnstable water stop and, not wanting them to have to wait any longer, I
quickly grabbed a peanut butter sandwich (not even a fluffer-nutter!!), a
couple of pieces of banana, topped off the bottles and, five minutes after I arrived,
we were off. Our team hung together as a group for a little while but, before
long, we found our individual paces and the fast guys were off the front. I had
not had a chance to ride with my friend Tommy yet on this PMC weekend so I
decided to hang on to him for a while trusting that Gary was a strong enough
rider to take care of himself.
Tommy is an elite rider (he and Captain Neil are, in my
opinion, the fastest and strongest riders in our little gang) and he lead me
along setting a pace between 17-20 mph for a good long while. Then I took the
lead and tried to keep a similar pace for the next eight plus miles. Tommy
stayed there with me when I slowed and was always right there with me when I
regained strength and we sped along the mid-Cape roads through East Barnstable,
Yarmouth and into Brewster. My need for speed was being met in good form and I
was pleased that I could hang in there with Tommy as we crushed this portion of
our trip.
There is a special place mid-Cape for PMC riders. The true
name is Cape Cod Sea Camps and it is
a summer day and resident camp which has been a training ground for young
sailors for over 90 years. They have a beautiful campus in Brewster with
approximately 200 yards of frontage on route 6A with a beautiful 3’ tall box
wood hedge squarely manicured just at the edge of the roadway. On PMC Sunday,
the campers and counselors come out in full force equipped with signs, cowbells
and extremely exuberant spirits to cheer on the riders. They yell, chant and
scream their support for hours on end and their efforts truly do drive us on
toward the finish.
Over the years this wonderful and inspiring spot,
affectionately known in PMC circles as “da Hedge”, has become a hallmark of the
ride. It is less than two miles before the water stop in Brewster but our team
always stops there to shake hands and high five the campers, revel in their
cheers, thank them for their support and grab a photo. This year was no
different and, once we all had arrived, we asked a passerby to snap a photo for
us with these wonderful sea-campers behind us as a memento of how great they
are.
We left “da Hedge” and headed to the stop at Brewster for
just a few minutes before leaving to travel to the last stop in Wellfleet. I
have to say, however, that I cannot sell the Brewster stop short. The
volunteers are fantastic, the food was plentiful, the music was dance inducing
and, the best part, ICE WATER TOWELS!!!
A small group of volunteers deals with large buckets of ice
water for many hours and hands out towels that are soaked in that wonderful
cold water to any rider who wants one (or two). At this stop, many riders
wander around with white towels draped over their heads looking almost nomadic.
The cool water helps reduce body temperature and gets us ready for the last
forty miles of our two day trek. Bravo to these wonderful volunteers who must
have frostbite by the end of their shift. You are all heroes to us.
The team grouped by the beginning of the Cape Cod Rail Trail
as it exited the Brewster State Forest and, once we were all together, we
launched on the penultimate phase of our 200 mile journey. The Rail Trail is about
ten miles long, very flat and straight. It is an opportunity to get some speed
going and increase one’s average mph. I looked for Gary but did not see him
and, not sure if he was ahead or behind me, I just decided to ride. In past
years, several members of our team formed a pace line, a tightly packed line of
riders (often with only 3” to 6” between the wheel of the rider in front of
you) and use drafting techniques to take advantage of the flat terrain and the
opportunity to gain some ground with reduced exertion. This year, I lost the
rest of my gang and, although I was comfortable in riding at a very brisk pace,
I missed the fun of being part of that pace line and rocketing down the trail.
As most of my training rides are solo, I didn’t mind riding on my own and had
plenty of other PMC riders to chat with if I felt like it.
Upon exiting the Rail Trail, the course dictates a right
turn and then a quick left turn and then we ride along the shore on Ocean View
Drive. This is a beautiful stretch of flat road where one can relax, pedal
easily and really enjoy the view of the gorgeous Atlantic Ocean as it falls
away on our right side. WRONG!!!
Ocean View Drive is a long 6% grade hill which deceives a
cyclist by hinting that, after the first, steep quarter mile, the climbing is
done. The reality is that, while the grade may decline from 6% to 3%
periodically, there is a lot more climbing to do than one would expect.
I finished the long climb on Ocean View Drive and, although I was not
riding with my friends and team mates, I made the most of it and cranked
through the rolling hills of Wellfleet, enjoying the speed, the nicely paved
roads and the smell of the warm forest on either side of the road. It was
pretty perfect. The miles flew past and, after two good climbs just before that
portion of the ride was over, I pulled up the hill into the school yard that was
the final water stop of the day.
I found Alan, Neil, Tony and Tom and shortly after that we
were joined by John, Gary, George and John. It was clear that we were all
getting tired but we also knew that there were only about 20 miles left before
we would arrive in Provincetown. I think we were all tired of peanut butter
sandwiches and Gatorade but we ate and drank just the same. No one wanted to
run out of energy when we were so close to our goal. Before long, we grabbed
the bikes and, just before we headed out on the final leg of our trek, Gary
pulled a t-shirt out of his jersey pocket and put it on. On the front of the
dark blue shirt was the Pan Mass Challenge logo and, on the back, simply “I
ride for Debbie. 6/29/15”. It was a beautiful testimony to Gary’s love for his
wife and a fitting tribute to a wonderful person.
Shortly after leaving Wellfleet, we entered Truro which is a
quintessential small Cape Cod town. The route took us through back roads which
were pretty but I knew what lay ahead. About five miles into the route, there
is a series of two hills back to back. The first one is tough but doable. The
next one, which is just a few hundred yards after the first, is longer and more
intense. This is where Gary looked at me for the second time that day and said
“I thought the Cape was flat”. I was about half way up the second hill when my
chain departed the front chain ring and I had no power. I had to stop, get off
the bike, put the chain back on the ring, mount up and start half way up the
hill from a dead stop. Good fun.
We crested the hill and enjoyed the descent on the other
side which took us back down to Route 6 where we made a left turn and, thanks
to the local and State police, we had a dedicated lane just for cyclists for a
while. Traffic can be bad on Rte. 6 anywhere on the Cape but, approaching
P-Town, it is the only major access road so most summertime traffic travels
that route. Despite heavy volume, the traffic was made easier as many of the
cars passing us in either direction honked their horns or had people cheering
to us through open windows. There are a few long shallow hills on this final
section of the PMC route but nothing that gave us any problem. Before long, we
arrived at the top of one climb and we could see Provincetown in the distance.
Like a shining city on a hill, it beckoned to us and we knew that we would get
through this event and, even more importantly, that it was well worth the
effort.
The last group event of the day was that our team always
meets at the Provincetown town line where they is a large sign and painting
welcoming all to that town at the tip of the Cape. We gathered there and, once
again, found a person willing to take a photo of our motley crew.
From there it was just a few short, flat miles to the Family
Finish were Gary and I found Gail, Fran and Mike and were quickly joined by
Gary Jr. who all congratulated us on achieving our goal. We were all especially
happy for Gary for doing so well on his first long distance endurance event and,
more importantly, for making that event the Pan Mass Challenge. Well done!
We showered, changed and regrouped at a local bar for lunch
and a beer with the gang. After relaxing and unwinding, with a bit of
perspective on what we had done over the previous two days, someone asked Gary
if he plans on doing the PMC again next year. He thought about it for a moment
and then, with a wry smile on his face, he said “Yeah, probably.” Even before
he made that admission, I knew he was hooked. Me too. Next year will be number 8.
On to PMC 2017!
No comments:
Post a Comment