Sure, Cycling 127 Miles is Tough, But Have You Tried It On No Sleep?

So, almost every year my family and I take an end of the summer long vacation in Provincetown at the end of Cape Cod.  I kick this off with an unsupported ride from my home to Ptown.  I was pretty excited for this year's ride.  I had resolved to take my time; stop for coffee when I felt like it, take photos of things, that sort of thing.  Given that I had done the route on Outriders earlier in the summer and that I had ramped up my mileage nicely, I felt good and ready for the ride.

A couple years ago I saw a GCN video about the aerodynamics of a trunk bag in place of panniers.  I dug around trying to find my old trunk and couldn't find it.  Maybe I gave it to a friend at some point?  As a result, I continued to do these long rides with the aero profile of a billboard.  The huge capacity of my panniers also lend themselves to overpacking.  A couple bottles of gatorade? Why not?  My kindle and street clothing? Heck, if I have a mechanical and have to wait for a ride, I'll want that!  And so on.  Well, this year I caved and got a small trunk bag. I took one extra water bottle, some food, and some warm cycling kit in case the forecast was wrong and it rained or something.

I wrote up my packing checklist, got everything set and went to bed early for my 5 AM wake up.  Perfectly planned and executed, thank you.

And then I woke up at 11 PM.

And could not get back to sleep.

....

Maybe I dozed a bit here and there, but no. Just a lot of tossing & turning.  And not like the song.  Heck of a night for insomnia.  I got out of bed around 4:40 feeling like garbage.  The only good thing was I'd get out on the road early.  Heck, the thought had crossed my mind around 3 AM to just get on my bike and start riding then.

I was rolling by 5:30.  It wasn't just pre-dawn, it was dark out.  I had to turn my headlight on high intensity.  Oddly, I passed a group of serious road cyclists stopped on the bike path by the Riverway working on a flat tire.  Yes, I made sure they were all set as I passed.  I have to say with a lighter load in the trunk bag the Secteur felt great.  I've ridden it plenty of times without panniers and it just felt different this time. I, however, felt TERRIBLE.  

The sun came up as I was rolling through Dorchester.  Traffic was light, but it was a bit surprising to see how many people were out at such an early hour.  I took a straight shot down 203 to hook up with route to Ptown.  There's no shoulder, so getting through this section safely was something of a concern for me.  When traffic is heavy it's a stretch that a cyclist is wise to avoid.

I'm so tired; I haven't slept a wink

I got through it and hit the bridge over the Neponset into Quincy.  Just beautiful.  It was easy cycling with very light traffic.  The weather was comfortable, overcast, low 70's, but very humid.

As I rolled along I sipped coffee, water, and grabbed a few nuts & dates from the snack box on my top tube.  I was TIRED.  I got to the pond by Wamsutta park in Halifax.  I sat down and polished off the rest of my heavily sugared black coffee as well as a Clif bar.  I swapped out my empty coffee bottle with the full water bottle from the trunk bag.

It had been a long long time since I'd done anything this physically demanding on so little sleep.  As long as I judged I was riding safely -- not wobbly, not failing to notice cars/obstacles -- I'd continue riding.  

Anyway, this area of the ride is really scenic. There are farms, horse paddocks, I think I saw a donkey in a pasture, in short, it's lovely.  This continues until you go through Plymouth where the suburban sprawl on the outskirts is sadly typical (box stores, franchise restaurants, multilane roads that look like highways).  Fortunately, you pass through that quickly.  Around here I leapfrogged with another cyclist who gave me a friendly hello, but didn't stick around to talk any time we passed each other.  The mild weather meant I didn't have to stop to refill my bottles and I pressed on toward the Cape Cod Canal.

After the fun rollers leading to the canal I arrived at the Dunkin Donuts.  I got a coffee, an egg & cheese sandwich, and refilled my water bottles.

Yeah, I wanted an iced coffee, but I correcting my order just seemed like too much of a hassle.  Taking off my shoes & sitting on the ground seemed like luxury!  FWIW, I'm still not doing any kind of indoor dining due to Covid rates in eastern Massachusetts.  Yeah, I'm fully vaccinated & boosted, but I don't want to lose a week or two of cycling to a bad cold (or risk long Covid).  While I was sitting there I saw four or five cyclists going by heading to the bridge. You have to wonder on a nice summer weekend how many people are doing some or all of the Boston -> Provincetown route.

After this nice break, sufficiently caffeinated, I crossed the bridge and was on the Cape proper.

I'm smiling, but really I hate crossing the bridge with its too narrow sidewalk.

Six different cycling arrows on the ground after crossing the bridge. I was following the green one.

Sandwich on the Cape was its normal picturesque self with just a bit too much car traffic.  Fortunately, I hit the access road soon enough.  I elected to follow the Outriders route with its squiggle down to Hyannis instead of the terror inducing shorter route on route 6A in Barnstable.  Hyannis traffic is busy and unpleasant, but I think it's the better of the two options.  Perhaps some day the access road will cut directly to the trail head of the rail trail in Yarmouth.  

And speaking of, I hit the rail trail!  Yay, smooth sailing off the road.

There's no sign to indicate it, but this trail in Falmouth cuts by a golf course and leads to the actual Cape Cod Rail Trail.  There weren't too many people out on the rail trail, so I was able to make good time (while being careful & polite while passing other trail users safely).

At some point a cyclist who I'd passed caught up with me.  He was a young guy who had just started bicycling earlier in the year (Jai was his name, I think).  Jai was riding about 60 miles -- from somewhere west of the bridge to Eastham where he was meeting his wife.  He was very strong and fast.  I kept up with him for a few miles, but I had to let him go ahead.  I was also out of water.  Fortunately, it was only a couple miles to the bottle filling station across from the Hot Chocolate Sparrow in Orleans.  I crossed the hundred mile mark for the day around here too. [Edit, somehow in 2023 Jian ran across me on social media. He rode 63 miles from Kingston to Eastham]

I pulled over at the picnic tables by the water fountain/bottle filling station (I know they are pricy to provision, but I really wish water fountains were a standard feature on rail trails & town centers).  Before I even dismounted a guy started talking to me "I really like your jersey."  Well, after I gulped down my first bottle of water (maybe I hadn't been drinking enough on this not to warm, but still very humid day) I started talking to him.  I probably even started making sense after I wolfed down one of the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches I'd been carrying in my trunk bag.  As it turned out this guy and his wife were from Sacramento, California and were planning a bike tour for a group of 30 in the Cape & Islands.  Nice people.  They had a bike wrecked in shipping, unfortunately.  I wish I had exchanged contact info with them.

With two full bottles and some calories on board it was time to continue to the end of the bike path in Wellfleet -- and a pit stop at PB Boulangerie!  During the first winter of the pandemic I had rented a place in Brewster right on the rail trail.  The ride out to Wellfleet had been my daily spin.  If I woke up early I could even extend it out to Truro.  When I was planning out my route for the ride I had intended on taking Ocean View Road all the way out to Newcombe Hollow Road and then heading east on Route 6.  This is some of the loveliest roads for cycling.  Unfortunately, given my lack of sleep I had to change my route.  I opted for Route 6 all the way until I got to Highland Road in Truro.  Far less scenic, but shorter and with just a bit less climbing.

But first, espresso, Gatorade, and a chocolate almond croissant at PB!  The line was kind of long, but it was worth the wait.  I also had a fun conversation with the nice people behind the counter and the other customers when they asked me how far I was riding.  For a charity? No, 125 miles just for fun? Really?  

Double espresso, aka go juice

Sufficiently caffeinated it was time to nail the rest of this ride.  My family had already arrived in Provincetown and was waiting for me.  I was TIRED.  I couldn't remember how many miles were left and I couldn't do the math to figure it out.  Still, I rode along spinning away the miles.  Finally, I crested the last hill in Truro and saw Beach Point with Provincetown just beyond it.  I zipped up my jersey and whooped it up punching the air.  The last couple miles just flew by and I was done for the day.  A shower and pizza awaited.  Then, the sleep of the just.

 

2022 Blazing Saddles Ride

Up at 4:10 AM.

OK, that was not my plan.  After taking three days off the bike to be fresh, making sure I was well-rested, I was up well ahead of my 5 AM alarm.  I tried to get back to sleep, but to no avail.  Up & at 'em at 4:45.  The coffee maker already had coffee & water in it -- prepped from the night before.  My bagel and plate were by the toaster.  Also laid out the night before.  Full water bottles were in the fridge, two for the bike, one for the drive to the start.  The bike was already on the roof of the car.  My duffel was packed with everything I needed for the day, from charged accessories to a post ride change of clothing.  All this organization and prep meant I didn't have much to do before I had to be in the car at 6 AM for the drive to Byfield for the start of the North Shore Cyclists' annual Blazing Saddles Century. 

And that was OK. The morning of the event is not the time for running around and trying to figure things out.  So, I had my breakfast while reading Neal Stephenson's "Termination Shock"

The forecast was for a hot dry day, so I didn't need arm/knee warmers or even a vest.  Kind of unusual for this time of year in New England.

I got to the start after an easy drive.  A good crowd of cyclists was already in evidence.  People were getting into their kit, talking, pumping up tires; the usual scene.  I registered, got my goodie bag and cue sheet.  The one thing I forgot was my cue sheet holder!  I folded up the cue sheet and put it in the plastic bag with my phone.  As it turned out I didn't need it at all throughout the day.  The arrowing on the route was superlative.

After getting everything situated on my bike I rolled out just ahead of the official 7 AM start time.  I was joined by nice guy named John on a Ritchie Logic steel bike he had built up himself as a pandemic project.  Strong rider.  We were setting a really nice pace.  I forgot how much easier it is to ride in the slipstream at speed. 16 mph just felt like noodling along when I wasn't in front.  Sadly, I knew I'd be going backwards on any climb at all, so I let him know it was OK for him to break off when I was going too slow.  Sure enough, we hit a bigger roller and he was off.  I didn't see him the rest of the day.

Going over the Merrimack River I just had to stop for a couple photos and missed a bunch of cyclists who were probably going too fast for me to join anyway.

For a while I joined up with a couple - at least I think they were together.  Mostly I drafted off them.  They had quite the involved conversation, so I didn't feel right riding with them too much more.  We got to the first pit stop at mile 26 and I kept it really quick there, so I left before them. 

Pretty much for the rest of the ride I rode on my own.  For a brief bit I was joined by another cyclist, Kurt (whose name I misheard as Kurn, as it Worf's brother on Star Trek).  To make the Kurn connection stronger, Kurt was the kind of guy who calls you "brothah".

Today is a good day to ride.

It had been cool at the start.  Around 70F/21C.  Very comfortable.  Almost cool enough for the cycling vest I had left in the car.  It had been warming up a bit and then suddenly, it was HOT.  Like someone had thrown the "summer" switch.  It stayed around 95F/35C per my bike computer for the rest of the day.  

After going up into New Hampshire for a bit the route came back down in Massachusetts.  The scenery was just gorgeous, if a bit parched in places from the ongoing drought.

One of my favorite bits is a road that curves past some pasture, you bang a left and you're on a straight section that cuts through tidal flats. It finishes with a little climb and returns to amazing olde New Englande scenery with a neat farm and stone walls.

Some bits of the route are a little more heavily trafficked, but that's unavoidable.  The majority of the century route is on quiet back roads.  It skips back and forth across a bunch of rivers, including the Ipswich and its tributaries. 

There's a wonderful spur out & back on a little peninsula with jaw dropping views of the coast.

After that first pit stop in New Hampshire it had seemed like we were hitting pit after pit.  I'd barely finish a water bottle when we'd roll into the next one.  "We" is kind of theoretical about all the riders.  I had been pretty much on my own.  Around here I polished off one bottle and was working on my second on the bike bottle.  Given the heat I decided to drink as I saw fit.  If I ran out, I'd take a peek at how far it was to the next pit or just stop somewhere to buy more fluids.  The heat was really impacting me.  I unzipped my jersey all the way, so it was just flapping around.  I ran into another rider on a time trial bike and asked him if he knew how far it was to the next pit.  It was just a few miles.  Whew!  I pounded the last of the water I had with me.

This pit stop was the last one on the route.  It's around 75 miles into the ride.  Always a tough point mentally as a rider.  I zipped up on the approach to the pit.  You can't pull in look looking like crap, you know.  As was true of all the pit stops on the ride, there were lots of volunteers energetically staffing the pit.  They made sure everyone took off their cycling gloves & hit the hand sanitizer.  Not effective against Covid (it's an airborne aerosol, not a big deal outside of crowds), but a good idea for other icky stuff that can spread via touch like norovirus.

Anyway, I filled my bottles with gatorade & water and sat down at a table, chatting with another cyclist.  The guy on the time trial bike/triathlon bike I think.  Kurt also showed up.  Then one of volunteers asked me if I wanted iced coffee.  She said my eyes light up when she asked me.  I almost told her I loved her.  Yes, I wanted iced coffee.  Badly.  It really hit the spot.  Kurt expressed similar sentiments ("You can just inject it into my veins.").  So, I got some caffeine, ate some food, and finished a bike bottle of gatorade.  After re-filling my bottle I got back on the bike to finish off the last bit of the ride.

There were more quiet roads.  And few that were kind of busy.  The starch was definitely out of my legs.  I watched my average speed decline.  Well, what can you do?  I saw a couple other riders take impromptu breaks by the side of the road.  My feet were really feeling it and I sort of wished that I had taken a break somewhere along mile 90 as well.

Finally, mile 100 rolled around with it, the finish.  There are so many century rides that are plus or minus five miles, it's great to ride on that comes in at 100 on the nose.

You can almost see the salt stains on my left side.

What a relief to finish!  I rode to my car, got my beach towel out, and changed into street clothing.  What a sweet feeling to get those cycling shoes and socks off my feet and peel off my cycling kit!  The NSC does a great post ride spread.  I had some veggie dogs, pickles, and watermelon. It was all so good.  A very long bike ride is the best appetizer.  I sat with Kurt who rolled in a bit after me.  I also met another cyclist, Cece.  I hadn't seen her out on the route because she was doing the 68 mile ride and started well after me.  It sounded like riding exclusively in the heat of the day had been quite tough.

While my pace for the day had been on the slow side I was very happy.  It was great to be back out on an organized group ride.  I was also thinking about the days in the late 90's when the NSC held this ride on Saturday AND Sunday.  For a single entry fee you could mix and match the short, medium, and long routes.  Some years I did back to back centuries -- and I'm kind of amazed I was ever that strong/able to recover from hard efforts so quickly!  Looking forward to my legs bouncing back from this ride in time for next weekend's solo ride to Provincetown!

The Big Push

 So a couple weeks ago my wife mentioned that the North Shore Cyclists 100 mile ride "Blazing Saddles" was approaching fast.  And the week after that I have my customary solo ride out from Boston to Provincetown for our family vacation on the Cape.

This meant it was time to stop taking it easy with 40 mile weekend rides and up the volume.  In short order I did a 62 mile ride followed by a 72 mile ride the next weekend.  More importantly I increased the number of days/weekly mileage.  It was a tough period to do this since it included a fairly intense heat wave with temps on the road getting up to 104F/40C.  

By the time I got to that 72 mile/116 km ride I was already TIRED.  I made sure to get quality sleep -- including a nap on the weekend.  I also steered clear of alcohol which really negatively impacts my recovery time, sleep quality, and resting heart rate.  It kind of didn't matter.  I just had to take a few days off the bike.

Which I've done and now I'm ready to get back in the saddle and get those big rides done.  All leading up to my big event of the year, The Harbor to the Bay charity ride.

Finally Got to Ride With a Fan

 One of the interesting things about commuting by bicycle is you become familiar with the other cyclists, pedestrians, and sometimes even the car drivers who share your route.  Over the past few years I'd get waved at by a guy & a young child in a minivan.  When they finally stopped at a red light the same time/place as me, we chatted.

At some point the kid convinced her dad to try and bike her to day care!  And he did a couple times a week in one of those Burley cart type of trailers.  Anyway, they mentioned this to me & apparently she really wanted to ride with me some time.

I kept trying do so, but you know that entails getting out of the house fifteen minutes early.  What are the chances of that happening?

Then I found out she was finishing up pre-school.  Next year she's going to kindergarten and I won't see them!

So, her dad & I exchanged phone numbers and we made it happen. I got out of the house early and got to ride with them.  How fun is that?!  

2022 Outriders: This is where I want to be, this is how I want to get there.

 It's a big deal for me.  Boston to Provincetown in one day.  Outriders.  I've been doing this event since 1999 (almost every year).  125 miles/200 km.  It's a long day in the saddle and I spend my spring getting ready for it.  Ideally, I'd have done a 100 mile ride in May.  As it turned out, my longest ride this year prior to Outriders was 87 miles.  There was some question in my mind whether or not I'd be able to do the whole thing in the saddle.

Spoiler alert: it was a great ride!

The night before the ride I packed my bag.  My family was driving to Ptown and we were going to stay through Monday.  I also prepped my bike and kit.  My tires were pumped up.  Bottles were filled (one with water, one with sugared coffee).  My clothing for the ride was set out.  I cooked a breakfast and popped it in the fridge.  The coffee maker was set to brew a couple cups.  In short, I would not have to think about much when I woke up the next morning at 4:50 AM.  Just start the coffee maker and pop the egg & cheese sandwich in toaster to warm a bit.  I went to bed early to give myself the chance to get a full night's sleep.  In other words, I did my best to ensure a low stress morning.

Kind of amazingly I got to bed OK.  I'd had butterflies all day.  I couldn't tell if it was excitement or nervousness.  

I was up like a shot when the first alarm went off.  I checked that my tires were still up to pressure and got the breakfast & coffee going -- trying to be quiet the whole time and avoid disturbing anyone in the house.

I got out pretty much when I wanted, 5:30 AM.  The streets were just about empty as I softly pedaled downtown to the start.  Around Kenmore Square I was passed by a couple cyclists who were also going to do the Outride.

There were a lot of cyclists at the Cyclorama (OK, OK, the Boston Center for the Arts) and quite a few red shirted volunteers already checking people in even though it wasn't quite 6 AM, the official start time.

I am wide awake. Yes, wide awake.

Not even 6 AM and people are getting checked in

Everyone was pretty groggy, but still in a good mood.  There was a spot for baggage to be taken to Ptown & picked up at the finish.  I ran into my friend Richard who does both Outriders and the charity ride I do in September which goes from Boston to Provincetown, The Harbor to the Bay.  Since Richard is quite a bit faster than me, I told him I'd see him when he caught up with me later.  I checked in, got a copy of the cue sheet, and had my rider number drawn on my leg.  And then, off I went.  No mass start for Outriders, just show and go.

I rode for a bit with the couple I ran into around Kenmore.  They were Spanish speakers and obviously very very fit.  We were talking at a red light when I realized I didn't have my sunglasses!  They noted that were weren't too far from the start and I could always ride back there.  I was sure I'd had them in my jersey earlier.  Fumbling with sunglasses before the sun is fully up is such a pain in the butt, but you really need them for such a long day.  Anyway, I was loathe to backtrack even a couple miles and just figured I'd get them back after the ride if someone turned them in.  Anyway, they were off.  I didn't try to keep up at all.  And sure enough I never saw them again that day.  Like I said, they were both obviously very strong.  My goal for the day was just to ration out my effort and make it to the finish.  If I averaged an embarrassingly slow 12 mph, that was going to have to be OK.

For a while I rode with a pack of maybe five other riders.  We made it through to Quincy (where I saw one of my favorite pho shops is still "temporarily closed").  This section includes one of my least favorite bits of the ride, a steel grated bridge.  Sure, the weather was sunny and dry.  I've gone over this horror show in the rain.  No matter what, I hate it.  25mm tires and steel grating make for a special feeling.  Anyway, I got over it OK.  Whew!  Somewhere along here the group dropped me. 

I was kind of surprised that Richard hadn't yet caught up to me.  Like I said, I know he's a lot faster than me -- even in years when I'm stronger.

After Quincy the route starts to get a bit less urban feeling and more suburban becoming rural.  Somewhere around here two things happened: Richard finally caught up with me.  The other thing was I started feeling a sharp pain in my left ... how can I say this? My left butt cheek with every pedal stroke.  I was flummoxed by this.  I ride the same model saddle on both my bikes and it's pain free.  I just couldn't figure it out.  Anyway, Richard and I chatted the miles away while we rolled toward the first pit stop in Halifax.

We got to the first pit and the mystery of the painful pedaling became evident.  It also resolved an earlier question -- how did I lose my sunglasses?  The answer to both is I had stowed my sunglasses in the cutout of my Terry Mens Liberator saddle!  I had been sitting on them for two hours!  And they were no worse for the wear and tear!

Why do I feel a sharp pain every pedal stroke? And how did I lose my sunglasses?
Oh.  That's how.

While I was in the pit I met Richard's wife who was crewing.  I also chatted a bit with Lew Lasher who helps organize the ride and map out the route.  Richard wanted to take a bit longer in the pit than I did, so we agreed that I'd take off early & he'd catch up.  He was also more accustomed to riding on his own and didn't always feel comfortable trying to ride together.

I'd been chatting so much with Richard that I kind of forgot to eat by clock.  On a very long ride like this you want to stay ahead on eating and drinking.  I had finished my coffee and drunk quite a bit of my water, but I hadn't eaten anything since my egg and cheese breakfast sandwich.  I had grabbed a little croissant in the pit, but that wasn't much.  While rolling out of the pit I ate a few dates and almonds out of my top tube snack box.  The Clif bars and Rx Nut butter packets in my jersey pocket went untouched.  Underneath all the dates and almonds I had a bunch of peanut M&Ms which were a treat for later in the day.  The next pit stop was another 30 miles along, in Sandwich on the Cape itself.

Richard caught up to me and we had a nice time rolling along a very pretty section of the ride.  Going through Plympton there are a number of small farms, some paddocks with horses, and woodsy bits.  There was a slight change to the route in Plympton.  It was odd suddenly riding on a strange road during an event which I've done since 1999. We hit the descent into Plymouth which I LOVE.  It's got a nice turn and it's a good long plunge.  ZOOM.  We then had to climb out of Plymouth, go through the ugly mall area, and then hit the rolling hills which lead to the Cape Cod Canal.

The Saltonstall Bike Route to the Cape

All day the weather had been outstanding.  It was warm, sunny, and we were benefiting from a nice tail wind.  I made it through the rollers without burning too many matches.  Richard had split off to make a pit stop, but once again caught up to me.  I even made it up one of the tougher climbs.  It's a sort of a sudden affair, devoid of shade and steep.  I've been working on losing some of those pandemic pounds with a bit of success and I really felt the payoff.

We got to the bridge over the canal.  As per the rules we dismounted and walked over. Oh well.  It had been a while since I finished my coffee so I fished out a Forto coffee shot and had one.

Dismounted and walking over the bridge.

.  

Making it over the bridge and onto the Cape is a damn good feeling.  It's a wonderful aspect of doing a point to point ride, like Outriders.  After a 60 mile loop you're back where you started.  On Outriders after 60 miles or so, you're on the Cape!  

Even nicer, in short order we were at the second pit stop of the day in Sandwich.  I grabbed a PB&J and sat down on a bench.  Most people were standing around eating and chatting, but I try to make a point of sitting down when I take a break.  I really want to get the stress off my legs.  It's in line with the dictum: don't stand when you can sit.  Don't sit when you can lie down, preferably with your legs elevated.  While refilling my bottles with water & Gatorade respectively (I'd drained the two bottles before getting to the pit and had a third while eating my sandwich), I think I annoyed a fellow rider with some dumb sarcasm about the poison ivy at the location of the next stop in Yarmouth. Oh well.

Pit Stop 2. The grass was kind of long this year.

I like to keep my stops on the short side.  I tend to cool down quickly and it takes me a while to loosen back up, so keeping the stops short helps prevent that.  As a result, once again I left the pit well before Richard.  Riding up away from Sandwich we hit the service road.  Again, it's a lot of rolling hills gradually ascending until you hit the highest point of the ride.  Generally, you want to sprint on the downhill to get as far up the next climb as you can.  And again, Richard caught me on this section and we continued to ride together.

The next key bit of the ride was the biggest departure from the traditional route. Instead of hooking south to ride on route 6A, we continued toward Hyannis.  The seven mile stretch of 6A is a nightmare.  20 years ago when I was stronger, would get down in the drops and time trial my way through it as fast as I could.  Narrow, twisty, with barely a shoulder, it's a terror.  The drivers take no quarter on this section.  Every time I ride on it I have a close call or two.  Suffice it to say, I hate 6A from Barnstable to Yarmouth.  This year we rode north into Hyannis and then back out in a big V.  We were going to pick up the bike path at the Yarmouth/Hyannis border.  Hyannis was unpleasant to ride through, but it was not anywhere near as dangerous as 6A.  I'll take it.

Sorry Barnstable, I'm riding through Hyannis this year.

We got to the bike path & I felt great.  We had something like 30 miles of easy rail trail to Wellfleet.

Richard and I at the very start of the rail trail

OK, the section of the trail in Yarmouth is not technically part of the Cape Cod Rail Trail.  It's got some whacky features which force you to dismount when you cross a road.  And I can't see how they are ADA compliant because anyone in a hand bike (or a tandem) would have a heck of time negotiating them.  Well, whatever, it's better than 6A, that's for sure.  We also got to another pit stop in Yarmouth (a different location than the traditional stop near Setucket Road, so no poison ivy).  I downed my second and last Forto coffee shot, thinking maybe I could stop for an espresso at PB Boulangerie in Wellfleet at the end of the rail trail.  

Again, I grabbed a spot to sit down and relax while eating and drinking (more water & another PB&J from the pit).  All day I had been playing leapfrog with a group of three, a woman, a guy on an ebike, and another guy who looked to be the strongest of the three.  It turned out that the guy on the ebike had a heart condition and the bike enabled him to be out on the ride without exceeding the heart rate guidelines set by his doctor.  

The bike path was generally relaxing, though you do have to watch out for kids and inexperienced adult cyclists.  Of the latter we ran into one super aggressive guy on a class three ebike and another rude/aggressive guy on a nice road bike with cages & straps on the pedals.  I had some good laughs at their expense.

All day all the riders and crew (all volunteer) I talked to were in an excellent mood.  Outriders was canceled in 2020 and 2021 due to the pandemic. I know I really appreciated being back out on one of the best organized bike events that I do.

100 miles for the day so far! 29 more to go!

I also told Richard about how the owner of Arnold's Clams in Eastham was an enthusiastic attendee of the January 6th riot/coup attempt (ha ha, funny Civil War 2 tshirt, buddy).  More like Benedict Arnold's, am I right?

Rolling past the spot in Brewster where I spent my first pandemic winter was ... interesting.  From November of 2020 to February of 2021 I rented a place there, so we were crossing into territory that had been a daily ride for me for months.  Ah, for the days when I'd wake up extra early, ride 13 miles or so to PB Boulangerie and have a coffee & croissant for breakfast before work,

File photo from winter 2021!

Anyway, we got to the end of the bike path in Wellfleet.  And a weird thing happened.  While I was eating some Fig Newtons and a packet of RX Nut Butter, I felt sick to my stomach.  I could barely choke down what I was eating.  I downed some water, but I felt terrible.  Ironically, I just explained the concept of the "no whining zone" to another rider, so I didn't really tell anyone.  The best I could do was to tell Richard that I was going to be riding the next bit a lot slower and that he should go on without me.  I sat for a while longer waiting for things to settle down.  Maybe that's why I didn't check out the situation at PB (or "The peeb" as we caffeine addicts say).  Finally, I felt well enough to press on with the last 20 miles of the ride.

The last 20 miles of the ride have some amazingly gorgeous scenery that's some of my favorite miles anywhere.  Ocean View Road in Wellfleet, Long Pond Road, Pamet Marsh, even the insultingly steep climbs by Tower Road and Corn Hill.  Well, normally, that's all the case, but as I discovered this past winter when I did some Presidents' Day weekend cycling in the area, there's construction on Tower Road and bits of the route are closed.  We re-routed around them by going on route 6 a bit -- where my family caught up with me in the car!  They pulled over and we got to chat for a bit.  No, I did not Rosie Ruiz it.  Though yes, in some little sick corner of my mind I thought about it.

My stomach had settled down quite a bit so I dug into my snack box for some almonds and those treat peanut M&Ms.  What did I find?  A couple more dates too!  It was all a very nice treat.

The tail wind had turned into a head wind, but no matter; I had rationed out my effort well and I had plenty in the tank to fight it as I rode along Beach Point.  What a great feeling.  I started the day unsure if I'd really be able to do the whole thing and here I was putting in a better time than expected, with plenty of strength to spare.

I pulled into the new finish line, the Surfside, and I was done.  My family was there to greet me.  129 miles (including the ride from home to the start).  An excellent day all around.

See you back out there for Outriders 2023 on 17 June!

56 Miles in Dutchess County

 "I want to encourage you to bring your bike to NY. When you see those rolling hills and back roads you will be sad not to have it."  So said my wife in an IM a week before our trip to upstate New York for her college reunion.  She included a link to the Dutchess County tourism bike page: https://dutchesstourism.com/listings/biking 

I took a quick peek at that page, the forecast, and agreed; the bike was coming with us.

The bucolic roads of Dutchess County

We were staying at a lovely inn in Pine Plains and I wanted to check out the Harlem Valley Rail Trail.  Now, when you're in one place, and the place you're riding to is named "valley" you generally have to go over some hills (maybe mountains) to get down into the valley.  And, as it turns out, this was very true in this case.

Google Maps gave me a couple options.  Surely, the route that goes closer to the start of the path and isn't on a numbered route would be better. Note that it's shorter too!  As I popped out of the Inn's driveway Google Maps prompted to me to take a right, not a left. Oh, silly Google Maps, directing me down that longer/slower numbered route.  I took the left instead and I was off.

Uh, am I going the right way (as it turned out, no, I had to double back
 and take that right turn)?

The roads were beautiful and quiet.  I was only passed by a handful of cars.  Shout out to the upstate NY drivers.  Almost as rule they give you at least half a lane to safely pass.  Throughout the day a closer pass was almost always done by a car with non-NY plates.  I also saw a number of other (maybe more serious looking) road cyclists.  From time to time I had to stop to consult my phone and make sure I was on the correct route.  When I got to McGhee Hill Road a local cyclist saw me make the turn up it & said "that's a serious climb".

Yeah, truth in advertising.  McGhee Hill Road was a long very steep climb.  I've been dropping my extra pandemic pounds this year, but I'm not back to my BeforeTimes weight just yet.  And damn, I felt it.  The pitch of the climb increased until finally I'd had it.  I dismounted and started walking.  I haven't had to walk up a climb in I don't know how many years.  More than 20.  Sheesh.  Yeah, I haven't done my winter leg training in the gym since the pandemic started too.  Well, what can you do?

I was sweating buckets just walking up the hill.

Finally, I got to a spot where I thought it went from outrageously steep to normal steep and got back up on the bike.  It was a good call because, holy crap, the hill just kept on going up.  I passed a guy doing yard work and said "that's a heck of a hill you live on" and he assured me the worst was behind me.  Whew!

I got to the top of the climb and started the very long descent.  Like I mentioned, I was thoroughly sweat soaked.  It was a long descent.  Despite it being 87F (30C) and sunny, I started getting chilled as the sweat rapidly evaporated.  If I'd had my cycling vest with me, I would have put it on and zipped it up.  It was all worth it.  The scenery had just been spectacular so far.  Another cyclist zipped past me on the decent.  Not knowing what was ahead on the somewhat twisty roads, I had to feather my brakes a bit.

Am I going the right way?

Finally, I got to the rail trail.  It had only been about 11 miles, but wow, I felt those hills in my legs.  I had just about finished one bottle of water and started thinking about stopping for more water and maybe some coffee.  I rode south on the bike path to the end in Wassaic, but didn't see any stores adjacent to the path.  Other cyclists didn't know of anything close by.  So, I doubled back and rode north.

All along much of the bike path caterpillars were dropping from the trees on their silk.  It was pretty damn gross.  In a more interesting animal encounter I was almost hit by two deer crossing the bike path.  One went in front of me, the other made a quick turn and went behind me.  

I talked to another cyclist who said my best bet for a coffee would be in Millerton, a few miles up the path.  Sure enough I got there and it was a town of some size.  I rode up the hill and found "Irving Farm Coffee".  The kitchen was closed, so I couldn't get the egg sandwich, but I had good scone and an excellent cold brew coffee.  They also had a water dispenser, so I was able to fill my water bottles.  While I sat outside eating my scone & coffee I had a nice conversation with another cyclist I had leapfrogged a couple times.  Her daughter was getting married in Boston in June.  Then it turned out the guy on the bench next to me had lived just a few blocks from my home until recently.

Coffee break in Millerton

Fully caffeinated I continued north on the path.  The path up until this point had been very nice.  There was a cool section where the original railroad had carved a path through some very rocky terrain, so you were biking through some high narrow rocks.  North of Millerton though it became incredible.  It went through some wetlands and the valley opened up so you could see the mountains on either side.  It was spectacular.  It made me want to bike forever.

Doesn't convey how neat this section was.

There were purple phlox in bloom all over the place

Unfortunately, it was getting kind of late in the day and I still had to ride back to Pine Plains.  I stopped to check what the route would be, but my phone didn't have any signal.  A group of four local cyclists stopped to help me, but in the end I just decided to ride back to where I initially joined the path and ride back from there.  I knew my phone had connectivity most of the time from there, plus I had some rough written notes about that route -- even if it meant going back up that leg breaking climb.

As it turned out, Google routed my via route 199, which was a heck of a lot easier than McGhee Hill Road (I did have an atypical unpleasant interaction with a group of motorcyclists).  So, I was able to get back to the inn, not negatively impact my family's dinner plans, and not be totally wasted from the day.  It was a fantastic ride and I'm just sorry I didn't have more time to explore the roads around there.

.

You Keep Rides Like That In Your Back Pocket

A friend posted about getting back on the bike after being away for a few years.  He rode about six hilly miles and suffered.  It seemed like he felt guilty about letting himself become so unfit and having such a tough time of it on the bike.  My reaction?  I told him that rides like that are ones you keep in your back pocket forever.

After an unforgettable 135 mile ride

Rides where you suffer and finish - or heck rides where you suffer and fail become your index rides.  Back in 1995 I did a five or six mile ride after taking some time away from the bike.  I couldn't get down in the drops in my bike because my gut got in the way.  Afterwards my back hurt for days!  I've done a lot of very tough rides since then.  Freezing cold, crazy hot, stupid far.  Each of them was a deposit in the bank of mental toughness that I can make a withdrawal on.  But that spin out to Newton from Allston in 1995? That's an index ride.  I can measure how far I've come and how little I'm suffering in comparison.

So, seek out and treasure those tough rides.  And for so many of us they start with that five mile ride that lays you out while a butterfly passes you as you creep up a steep climb.