Playing In Traffic: 2018 Harbor to the Bay

My full write up of the 2018 Harbor to the Bay. What an incredible ride! Great day on the bike.

2018 Harbor to the Bay:

The apex of my cycling year is the Harbor to the Bay. A one day 125 mile charity ride from Boston to Provincetown benefiting four local HIV/AIDS charities. The ride is all volunteer staffed and run, so 100% of the money raised goes to the beneficiaries. Additionally, if 125 miles isn’t your thing, there’s a 68 mile route from the bridge to Ptown.

It really is the apex of my cycling year. Every ride I do I think of as “a training ride for the H2B”. This year that was 4,878 miles of bicycling since January first. It’s a big deal for me! :-)

This year a coworker from my company’s Munich office signed up and rode with me! Paul had been a bike racer in his youth, but hadn’t done much long distance cycling in the recent past. In the month leading up to the ride he did a few long distance rides, culminating in an 85 mile solo effort. Given how much other exercise he does, I figured he’d be OK.

The day before the ride I went down to Club Cafe to finish registration and pick up my rider packet. It had the ride jersey, a wrist band, and my rider number which I had to pin on the jersey and bike. That night I had my go to pre big ride dinner: gnocci with marinara sauce. I’ve never had a bad ride the day after eating gnocci.

Gatorade, shaken not stirred.

Really cool quilt made from H2B shirts

Checking in.

My wife and kids had left earlier in the day for a bonus day in Provincetown. It also meant that I didn’t have to worry about waking anyone up at 5 AM. I pumped up my tires, laid out my bike gear, and got the coffee maker all set for the next day. And I tried to go to sleep. I probably drifted off after 11 PM and then woke up with the power went out. I spent a bit of time worrying about that and then I figured if the power was still out when my cell phone alarm went off, I could have breakfast and coffee at the start.

Anyway, at some point that night the power came back on and for some reason one of the lights turned on (smart devices). I turned it off and worried a bit about my bike shoes. Did I accidentally throw them into the luggage my wife took to Provincetown? What if I didn’t fall back asleep? Somehow I drifted back to sleep and when my alarm went off I felt like I had some semblance of a good night’s sleep.

I turned on the coffee maker and checked that my bike tires hadn’t gone flat overnight. First things first. Don’t laugh. One year that did happen to me, but since I checked my tires first thing I had plenty of time to fix it! I made my breakfast: fried egg and cheese on an everything bagel. Hey, my sister had recently come back from New York and brought some really good bagels with her. What a treat.

I could not be happier at this hour of the morning.

I got out the door and on my bike by 5:30. It was dark, but not that cold. I wore my wind vest, but kept my knee and arm warmers rolled up in my jersey pockets. As I rode to Trinity Church in Copley I thought about the Midnight Marathon Ride earlier in the year. How I rode that same stretch of road at 2:30 in the morning in the freezing rain with numb hands and feet. What a year it’s been for bicycling for me. This morning was quite different. It was humid and in the low 60’s. I arrived at Trinity sweaty!

Bike Parking!

Paul & Yoshi!

Paul was already there -- another one of our coworkers, Yoshi, had generously gotten up at this ungodly hour of the morning to drive him in. After greeting them both, I ducked into the church, where breakfast was being served. I wasn’t planning on eating anything, but I wanted to see who was there so I could say hello. Given the different paces everyone rides and the way some people leave right after the finish, it might be the only chance you get to greet a friend.

I saw a bunch of people -- and it was a damn good thing I said hello to my friends since it did turn out that I barely saw any of them out on the road! It was great to see Andi, Carolyn, Tina, Heather, Tim, Yeongbae, and a number of other people.

Andi & Carolyn -- I'm already sweaty

Tina!

Mass Red Ribbon Ride Socks, circa 2005

Opening ceremonies were very quick this year. 6:30 AM or so we were on the road. With Paul on my wheel, we were quickly moving up through the group. There must have been another group or two ahead of us, but we were in a fast moving pack that included Robb, a friend I had met on a training ride earlier in the year.

Jim Morgrage and Joe Richard getting ready for opening ceremonies

Yeongbae engrossed in his phone.

It was quite misty and foggy as we rode through the South End to Dorchester and then Quincy. The road was wet and in one spot I did have to hit my brakes hard and I felt the bike fishtail a bit. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, but worrysome all the same. We were hammering hard -- something that is easy to do at this early stage of the ride.

Paul and I chatted a bit about the pace. I said I didn’t intend on riding this hard the whole way, I was just getting my ya-ya’s out. OK, I was kind of lying. I didn’t intend on going all “shut up legs” for the whole day but I really did want to push it as best I could. My strategy for the day was to maintain the best possible pace on the bits that suited my strengths and limit my loses on the bits that didn’t (i.e. sections with significant climbing). On a long ride like this, you really want to avoid going anaerobic and burning too many matches. 125 miles is a long day in the saddle.

We were coming to some of the earlier climbs. In particular there’s a big climb after Quincy Center, after crossing some railroad tracks and it usually serves to break up groups. My friend Yeongbae was with me at this time also and heard me reference this big upcoming climb that was going to sort out the group.

As I’ve mentioned a few times in this blog I’ve dropped 40 pounds this year. It makes a big difference on climbs. Going uphill on a bike is all about power to weight ratio and setting a pace you can maintain. This year I can go quite a bit faster and not blow up.

Just after that big climb we made a fairly hard right turn into another climb. It’s a short steep climb that goes past a nursing home. There’s always a few residents outside smoking cigarettes. And I do mean always. Not only does the route to Provincetown go past it, my regular training route out to Nantasket Beach goes this way. Anyway, I always say hello to whoever is out there.

Our group had just about stabilized to around ten people. Aside from Paul on my wheel, I can’t recall if there was anyone else I knew. I tried to draft on this section as much as could. The ride has some motorcycle escorts from the outstanding Moving Violations club. Their help was really appreciated throughout the day.

It seemed like in no time at all we reached the first pit stop. I wasn’t remotely hungry, though I did take the opportunity to finish the coffee I had in my second bike bottle and refill the bottle with Gatorade. I also got to say hello to my friend Pete. He’s done the H2B in the past, but this year he was crewing. Paul and I agreed to get back on the bikes and roll onto the course before we cooled off too much.

On the left is a rider from the amazing Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.

Pete at a foggy pit one.

The section of the course from pit one to pit two is flat and we were able to raise our average pace from just under 15 mph to 16.5 mph. In other words, we were on the rivet hammering. The group we were in was yet smaller. As we’d approach a green light we’d pick up the pace to try and make through and as we’d approach turns, I’d yell out what was coming. “WE’VE GOT A RIGHT TURN AT THE FORK.” or even better I’d take the lead on tricky bits like the weird rotary around Hanson. This section of the course I know very well -- and I love it since I can also make up some time on it. Even at this speed we made a great effort to ride carefully and safely, calling out obstacles and approaching cars & pedestrians in the road.

Raising the pace like that meant the 14 some odd miles between the pits just flew by. Pit two was really misty and foggy. They had some excellent homemade cookies: oatmeal and peanut butter. They also had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I had some of each. Paul had one cookie. I have to say, I was wondering what he was thinking. It’s a long day and the food you eat at the start sees you through to the end. Or so I had learned. Bike tech had someone’s bike up on a stand and was working on it.

It's foggy! And I'm enjoying a selection of cookies.

Keeping our visit short, we got back out on the road. In the next roughly 14 mile leg between pits we raised our pace further to slightly better than 17 mph average. For sections of this we did ride with other cyclists. It was interesting to contrast the younger cyclists with the older more experienced cyclists. The younger people had a lot of motion in their upper bodies and often their heads would bob and they mashed on the pedals. The older cyclists were generally much more fluid pedaling and had very still upper bodies (like my friend Robb). This kind of efficiency of effort is really important, particularly on long rides.

Between pit two in Halifax and pit three in Plymouth the fog started to burn off. My friend Pete who I had seen at the first pit set up an unofficial water stop around here. Next year Pete is going to be doing three different HIV/AIDS charity rides including the H2B. It’s going to be something like 900 miles of cycling in events alone! Anyway, we kind of blazed past him before I even realized it was him!

When the fog finally did burn off, it turned into a really nice sunny day. It was only 9 AM. I remarked to Paul that normal people would only just be waking up and would have no idea how foggy it had been. Around Plympton and Plymouth there were police controlling a couple key intersections, so what could have been tricky left turns were an opportunity to capitalize on momentum.

Dogs! In! Plymouth!

The location of the Plymouth pit isn’t that inviting, so after a quick break for food & fluids we were back on the road. The next chunk of riding was one of the tougher bits of the course. Some overbuilt sprawly mall next to a highway interchange followed by some rolling hills. In the back of my mind there was the outside chance that we could get to the next pit -- right by the bridge -- before the second half of the route opened. We had about an hour to do it. Wouldn’t it be funny to get to the bridge in time for the opening ceremony for the people riding the 68 miles from the bridge to Ptown? This was about all the incentive I needed and I really put the hammer down on the next section. I lost 1 mph from my average, but a 16 mph average wasn’t too shabby.

Paul looking happy about that PB&J

Outstanding & helpful volunteers at every pit.

Lots of boxed lunches.

Trampolina!

We got to the lunch pit just as the bridge riders were being released to go over the bridge. It was a damn good feeling. I had been riding so hard I wasn’t hungry, but I grabbed a boxed lunch and some Gatorade anyway. Paul and I sat down and took our first longish break of the day. Kind of incredibly, I didn’t eat everything in the box, only the sandwich. I passed on the cookies and potato chips. Go figure. After about half an hour we got up to get a move on. The rules are we had to walk our bikes across the bridge. We even heard a National Park Service ranger go on about having to walk our bikes across the bridge. I don’t know why this is so. We walked our bikes across the bridge. Getting to the other side we took a couple photos. Paul oggled the majesty that is the Christmas Tree Shop. I guess in Germany they don’t shop for Christmas year round.

ON THE CAPE!

It took a while to loosen up again, but eventually I began to feel comfortable on the bike again. Conceptually, if not literally, we were in the second half of the ride, on Cape Cod proper. I was still feeling pretty good and so we continued to set a strong pace. We were again facing a few miles of rollers gradually ascending to the highest point on the ride. After this we had to deal with what is hands down the worst section of the ride: seven miles on Route 6A in Barnstable. It’s narrow and the drivers are often impatient and unsafe. The best you can do is ride fast. Well, we did. Hammering through this section as best we could. I can’t tell you how fast we were going because I stopped taking photos of my bike computer, so I don’t know my splits for the second half of the ride. Oops. At least this section of the ride has a pit stop in it.

Almost too gross to get into if you aren’t a cyclist was my impromptu alteration of a spoonful of sugar from Mary Poppins. Yeah, it’s too gross. At least I’ll remember this incident when I read this down the line. We were definitely seeing the same faces at every pit stop at this point. I don’t know who was leapfrogging whom, but if we all had any sense at all we would have ridden together from this point on. In particular I regret not talking to Robb and getting him to stick with Paul and me.

Harwich! Paul got a kick out of the Olde New Englande town names throughout the day.

We pulled out of the pit and got back on 6A. Just a couple hundred yards out of the pit a car passed us with windows open and people leaning out yelling… “GO PAUL! GO!” It was our coworkers -- other managers from offices in France, Italy, Japan, and India who were in town for the same meeting as Paul. They had rented a car and came out to root us on! How about that? We pulled over to chat for a bit and got back out on our way. They passed us a couple times and got some nice photos.

Francesco Giving Paul an assist

Paul and I continued to maintain a good pace. Getting through 6A as quickly as possible was an excellent incentive. I was very happy to feel like I still had good legs and a lot of energy left in the tank. It was great feeling to finally get off of 6A in Yarmouth. There were a couple hairy moments and it took a lot of concentration to ride that section of the route safely.

6A It's narrow, but good to see that white car giving a wide berth.

Paul on his rented bike from Landrys.

Taking the lane when necessary.

The next pit stop was where we hit the Cape Cod Rail Trail in Brewster. I grabbed some food, some Gatorade, and sat down in a chair. Sitting down for just a few minutes really makes a big difference for me. I chatted with a couple fellow riders as well as Jim Morgrage, who is the head of the organizing committee. Paul and I rode out with Robb and chatted for a while. The rail trail is fairly simple -- no turn -- but you do have to watch out for wobbly inexperienced cyclists and you have to be really careful and polite while passing pedestrians. Otherwise, it’s all pine trees, kettle ponds, and after you pass Orleans, some tidal flats. The last might smell a little like sulfur at times, but it’s something that I strongly associate with the outer Cape.

Jim Morgrage taking a break!

Robb! Meanwhile I'm busy eating something.

After briefly stopping at the Brackett Road pit in Eastham (saw it coming a mile away thanks to the shimmering outfit of a friend of mine from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence which I stupidly didn’t get a photo of), we pressed on. I was talking about stopping at the PB Boulangerie at the end of the rail trail and skipping the pit stop, but I was fantasizing about a chocolate frappe. They don’t have frappes at the boulangerie, so the game plan was an almond croissant and a double espresso. I was over 100 miles into the day, and my split was my best pace for 100 miles in many years, beating what I had done the week before in the Ride for Angels century.

Robb was back with us at this point. We had an interesting conversation about repeating experiences and expecting the same feelings/outcomes -- it was sparked by my description of a post ride frappe from earlier in the season and my transcendental reaction to it. Let’s say that after 140 miles on a hot summer day drinking a cold chocolate frappe from JP Licks resulted in an experience like Dave Bowman going through the star gate at the end of 2001:A Space Odyssey.

We checked in and out of the Wellfleet pit while rolling through (each pit requires a check in/check out). There was no queue at PB Boulagerie, but Robb didn’t join us. A mistake I thought. It was wonderful to sit down in the Adirondack chairs and enjoy our deluxe break. Paul got a chocolate eclair. We got a wonderful send off from some people who asked how far we were riding “THEY’RE RIDING FROM BOSTON TO PROVINCETOWN IN ONE DAY, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?” Gotta love that ego boost.

Gatorade, double espresso, almond croissant: the pause that refreshes.

Eclair at mile 110 or so.

Delicious!

So happy to take a break in those chairs.

Consider the eclair if you will.

Time to put the ride to bed. Big rollers on Route 6. Got down in the drops and put the hammer down. I think for a while we picked up a straggler, but we ended up spitting him off the back. Route 6 might seem a bit intimidating -- there’s fast moving traffic -- but it’s got a very wide shoulder that’s designated as a bike lane. It works for me. That double espresso was the go juice I needed. I dumped the contents of my second water bottle. It was nothing but dead weight at this point. What an incredible feeling to make that right turn off of 6 onto the road that hairpins past Highland Light and leads to the last pit stop in Truro.

I texted my wife and let her know how close I was to the finish -- just a few scant miles remained. I chatted a bit with the people staffing this last pit. Paul and I remounted. A couple hills remained. We crested them and had our first view of Provincetown past Beach Point! The weather was perfect and the view was terrific.

Sailing through Beach Point we had to stop and get a photo at the town line. Then there it was. The finish line at the Harbor Hotel. Outstanding. We hoisted our bikes over our heads and got some photos. Our coworkers were there -- and a few minutes later so was my family! Pool time was over, kids. I changed out of my cycling clothing and had a couple slices of pizza. I said goodbye to Paul -- he was heading straight back to Boston with our coworkers.

I was beyond pleased with my pace. It was my best pace in many years -- 15.7 mph. Later I found my Boston to Provincetown ride time from 2001. I was 15 pounds lighter, but only six minutes faster. So, it's a lot to be happy about. This year's ride has really raised the bar for me performance wise -- or returned the bar to where it used to be.

What perfect day for a long bike ride and doing miles to kilometers conversions in your head!
It's what happens when an American & South African/German ride together.

FANTASTIC!

Strength to spare!

I went to my motel, took a shower, and relaxed by the pool. I got a chance to talk with some members of the outstanding motorcycle safety crew from the Moving Violations club. I also had some extremely painful cramps in my quads -- but a few sips of pickle juice settled that right down.

If you're going to pick a spot for painful leg cramps, you could do worse than this.

That shower felt SO GOOD.

I returned to the Harbor Hotel for the last mile or so of the ride: the night time parade down Commercial Street to the Boatslip for closing ceremonies. I realized I’ve been doing bike rides against AIDS for 20 years and I thought about all the miles and the commitment this has become. So, at closing ceremonies they had a sign with the date for next year’s ride. It’s already in my calendar.