Pan Mass Challenge 2017 - Trials and Successes

Friday

As has happened in prior years, my training for the 2017 Pan Mass Challenge bike ride was all over the place. Over the winter, I attended indoor cycle training classes (Computrainer for those who know what that is) in an attempt to keep my fitness level in a somewhat steady state. That worked well but, in late January, my travel schedule for work escalated and suddenly I was on the road almost constantly for the next four months. Although I frequently packed work out gear in my suitcase for the many trips I took, the sneakers, shorts and t-shirts inevitably stayed right where I had packed them. The lack of exercise and many, many restaurant meals took their toll and, by mid-May, it was as if I had taken a whole year off from training. So, it was time to start from scratch and get out on the bike as much as possible. At first the rides were short and slow but, within a few weeks, I felt like I was coming back. My initial goal was to ride at least 100 miles per week and I found it relatively easy to achieve that goal. As my training continued, I started to feel back in shape. The rides became longer and I added hill climbs and speed work in addition to the long rides and, by mid-July, I felt like I could do the PMC.

I have ridden the PMC with the same team for the past five years. The members of Team Five and Dime (Velominati rules 5 & 10 for those who know the rules) are great friends as well as great riders and I always look forward to time on the road with them. This year, we were fortunate to add a new team member, Jessica Madsen. Each year, the team dedicates our ride to a PMC “Pedal Partner”, a child who has fought or is fighting cancer. This year and last year, our pedal partner has been Addy Madsen, a delightful young girl who has fought cancer for almost her whole life. She has a bright smile, a sparkling personality and inspires our team whenever we see her. After the PMC in 2016, Addy’s mom, Jessica Madsen decided that she would ride the PMC in 2017 and joined our little team. She bought a bike and trained hard in Maine where she, Addy and the rest of her family live and committed to riding the full two day Sturbridge to Provincetown route. Not an easy feat for someone who hadn’t been on a bike in years. Earlier in the spring, I had offered to Jess that, if she would come down to Massachusetts, we would ride the first portion of the PMC day one route starting in Sturbridge. The first forty miles of this route contain most of the significant hills and, prior to the first year I did the Sturbridge to Provincetown route, I had done this trial run so that I would know what I was in for. Jess agreed to this plan and, on a hot, airless Wednesday, Gail dropped us off in Sturbridge and we set off. It was a long hot, hilly ride but I told Jess that, if she could do it under those conditions, she would be just fine on PMC weekend. I was right.

The week before PMC weekend on August fifth and sixth, I dialed back the rides as I have done in past years. Despite the usual anxiety I encounter just before the event, I know I was reasonably prepared both mentally and physically. The fundraising was going extremely well (thanks to all who donated and, to those who haven’t, there is still time) and everything seemed to be under control. I had experienced no accidents nor suffered any injuries during training. In fact, I had had only one flat tire during the entire season. My friend and coach Scott had given the Colnago a tune-up and both bicycle and rider were ready for the big weekend.

The day before the ride, all participants pick up registration packets at the location from which they will start. I went to Sturbridge, checked in and picked up my ride “bib” which is the ID card which goes on the bike as well as an official PMC cycling jersey and other things I would need for the ride. I met up with the rest of my team members who were starting from Sturbridge (some team members elect to start from Wellesley) and we enjoyed conversation and comradery with the thousands of other riders who start from Sturbridge and perhaps a beer or two was consumed as well. It is important to carb-load before an endurance event.

The opening ceremonies for PMC are a big deal. The founder, Billy Starr, hosts the event which is held in Sturbridge and is broadcast live over the local CBS affiliate in Boston. Two of the news anchors at the station ride in the PMC so David Wade and Lisa Hughes were there helping Billy with the MC duties. Since Jess was not only a first time rider but also the mother of a pedal partner, Addy, who had been featured in the previous year’s opening ceremonies, PMC staff gave us four front row seats at the opening ceremonies so Jess, myself, Neil (team captain) and Tony (founding member) all enjoyed the music, testimonials, speeches and videos that make the ceremonies the adrenaline fueling event that it always is. Jess was even recognized by Billy as part of the event and we had a great time. 

                         Me, Jess, Neil and Tony with Billy Starr at the Opening Ceremonies

After the ceremonies had concluded, Jess and I headed back to Holliston where we would spend the night at my house. Most team members elect to stay at a hotel in the Sturbridge area so they can get a little extra sleep but I have always preferred to spend the night before PMC weekend in my own bed. Not that I really get much sleep but it seems to me to be better than sleeping in a room with a bunch of snoring cyclists. Fortunately, Gail always agrees to drive me to Sturbridge at four o’clock on Saturday morning and this year she agreed to transport Jess and me so that we could meet the team and be ready for the 5:30am start.

During that final week, I watched the weather forecast for Saturday deteriorate with growing trepidation. The likelihood of precipitation kept increasing each day but, at the opening ceremonies on Friday night, the local CBS weatherman announced that he thought that the storms would stay north of us and our ride would be clear on Saturday and Sunday. Boy did he get it wrong.

Saturday

I rose at 3:00 Saturday morning. I had been awake off and on most of the night as I was very concerned about sleeping through my alarm. I had been wide awake since 2:30am. I got up and got my cycling kit on and went to the kitchen for coffee and to eat something before we headed out to Sturbridge. I am not a breakfast person. I usually need to be awake for a few hours before I am ready for food but, on Friday night, Gail had made a coffee cake with fresh blueberries which looked delicious. It was!! I had a couple of pieces along with some fruit and a lot of coffee. Jess had gotten up shortly after I did and Gail made sure that we had plenty to eat and drink before we piled into the car for the forty five minute journey from our house to Sturbridge.

As we drove, I noticed rain sprinkles on the windshield. It was intermittent and we were traveling at 70mph so I thought that we might be ok for the ride. I don’t mind riding when it is sprinkling but by the time we arrived at Sturbridge and met up with our team mates, it had stopped. I abandoned the idea of wearing any rain gear and we got ready to launch. Gail took a team photo and she headed to the car for her return trip home. She would meet us again later that day. As we listened to the National Anthem and then lined up with all the other riders getting ready to head out, the rain returned. It was a light summer rain but it was an ominous way to start the 110 miles that lay before us.

The Sturbridge Team Five and Dime on Saturday morning. 

Our jerseys are a Hawaiian theme for Addy and we have 

hula girls attached to the top of our helmets.

There are approximately 2,800 riders who start in Sturbridge and, with that kind of volume, it takes a while to cross the starting line and actually be able to start pedaling. It took us almost 15 minutes to cross the line and get on our bikes and under way. Finally we began in earnest.

As I have stated in previous PMC narratives, the first five miles of PMC day one are a good warm-up. It is mostly flat but there are a few relatively easy climbs that get the muscles used to working. It is also a good time to get used to riding with a crowd. Most of my riding is done solo or with one or two others so it was good for me to get back into the mode of pack or peloton riding where you need to be hyper aware of, not only what I am doing as a rider, but also aware of what everyone around me is doing or could do. One short lapse in attention can lead to a fall or worse. By the time we started on Saturday, the roads were wet which adds an additional element of concern. Asphalt can get slippery when wet and the yellow and white lines painted on the road get very slick. I spent those first miles monitoring my pace (slow due to the crowd and the weather) and watching out for any potential threats from other riders.

At right around mile six, there is the first real climb of the day. We climbed up a short hill, made a hard right turn and then started our ascent. The elevation grade is low at first but increases for the duration of the climb that lasts just over a mile. This climb serves to thin out the pack as many riders settle in to their lower or easier gears and spin their way to the top. I was glad that my legs had warmed up over the first few miles and I found this climb relatively easy. By the time I reached the apex, any lingering doubts about whether or not I was up to the task of my 8^th PMC were vanquished and I settled into a more aggressive pace as we cranked along the beautiful countryside of eastern Massachusetts. The towns of Charleton, Oxford and Sutton passed beneath our wheels and, though fewer than in previous, more sunny years, there were a number of folks by the side of the road cheering us on. The rain made our focus on the road and the ride more acute but the sound of cowbells and the cheers of families and thanks from survivors brought a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. I was very proud to think that the dollars that you contribute and the effort I put forth help to keep some of these valiant people alive.

I rolled into the first water stop in Whitensville feeling strong but hungry. It was time to get some fuel before heading back out onto the road for the next leg.

After connecting with the team and getting some food (first fluffernutter of the day!) we rolled out of Whitensville for the short 15 mile stretch before the second stop. The weather had improved a bit, from rain and drizzle to just overcast sky, so the riding was easier and I could wear my glasses again. This portion of the route is mostly flat but there are a couple of challenging hills mid-way through in Mendon. I remembered these climbs from previous years and was prepared for them. Once again, the pack thinned out and I was able to get up the hills with no problem. After Mendon, it was nice easy rolling terrain through the back roads of Bellingham and into Franklin. The day was shaping up to be a good ride for me and I was enjoying the temperature, the groups of well-wishers by the side of the road and my fantastic bike. I kept thinking to myself “What a great day to fight cancer”. We got to the water stop in Franklin and re-grouped for a quick bite and a photo opportunity.

Franklin Water Stop

I have to say a huge thanks to the volunteers at the Franklin water stop and all the PMC volunteers. They make sandwiches, fill water bottles, stand by the side of the road and direct us and always with a smile and a “Thank you for riding”.  It doesn’t seem to matter if it is 90 degrees and humid or 65 degrees and raining, these wonderful volunteers are there to support us, wish us well, make us smile in the face of adversity and help motivate us to do what we set out to do. These selfless volunteers are the unsung heroes of the weekend.

After eating, getting bottles filled and posing for photos in our Super Hero Addy garb, we rolled out of Franklin in good spirits. We all knew that we would soon be on Cherry St. in Wrentham which is a hallmark of the event and a great time to see friends, supporters, musicians, cow-bell ringers and to get a boost to push us on to lunch in Rehoboth.

That portion of the ride was dry and easy and we stopped to regroup at the mouth of Cherry St. As I have mentioned in the past, Cherry Street in Wrentham, MA is special because, each year on PMC weekend the residents all come together to wish the riders well and support the cause. This is, in part, because more than 75 percent of the families living on Cherry St. have been affected by cancer. They go all out and dress in costumes, bring in bands to play for us and stand by the roadside to cheer us on. This year was no exception. There was a steel drum band, an octogenarian in an Uncle Sam costume, a drum and bagpipe band, and countless families and friends by the side of the road cheering us on and expressing their support and gratitude. Gail, Meg and Alan were there and our clan of Super Hero Addy riders stopped to say “Hi” and enjoy the moment. It was a great stop but little did we know what would await shortly after we left that joyous street and our ardent supporters.

Within about two miles after we left the festivities and support of Cherry St., the skies opened up and it rained. Not just a light sprinkle or drizzle as we had encountered earlier that morning, this was a full on rain storm. The roads were wet and slick and caution was the watchword. I put my glasses in the back pocket of my jersey and rode along with an extremely heightened sense of awareness due to the deteriorated road conditions, the fact that I was riding with a huge number of people that I was confident had never ridden in wet conditions before and knowing that my sight was diminished by about 30 percent because I could not ride with my glasses on.

These conditions continued for the next twenty plus miles through country that would have otherwise been delightful but the main focus points on the day were the road conditions, the other riders and our own safety. We rolled into the lunch stop soaked, tired and hungry. We knew that only one of those conditions was likely to be remedied very soon.

The riders who launch from Wellesley join the Sturbridge riders on the route just before the lunch stop at Dighton-Rehoboth Regional High School. Needless to say there are suddenly forty percent more riders than we had seen at the Sturbridge start but we were also able to connect with the rest of our teammates. When we arrived at the crowded tent that held the food, drinks and riders we knew that we were almost seventy miles into our first day goal of 110 miles. We were chilly and drenched but our spirits were high. We gathered with our friends and team mates and it was great to be all together at one location, compare stories and fuel our bodies with food and our souls with friendship and camaraderie. An added bonus was that Jess’ husband David was there with Addy and her sister Casidhe so that we were all able to see them and enjoy Addy’s enthusiasm and energy. It was just what we needed before we headed out to the next stop in Lakeville.

The water stop in Lakeville is home to the Pedal Partner tent: a gathering spot for cycling teams, their pedal partners and families. At the tent, groups gather for photos and so that the teams can show their support for these brave children and their families. Several of the families of our team members also were there so we had a pretty large crowd for Addy and all the Madsens. The weather cleared a bit and there was even some sun peeking through the clouds. Even though we had just seen Addy, Casidhe and Dave fifteen miles earlier, we laughed and enjoyed their company as if we had not seen them in years. Then it was time for a group photo with all the riders and Addy.

We left the Lakeville stop smiling and somewhat dryer knowing that we had only about twenty five miles left to go. There is one more water stop in Ware but we always forego that one in favor of our own traditional “water” stop at a little pub called the Narrows right on the water in Onset, MA. We rolled into the parking lot which had many bicycles already parked outside the bar and went inside for a well- deserved Guinness (also known as a post ride malt recovery beverage). Our team mates arrived in waves and soon we were all there for a brief rest and a beer before remounting our bikes for the last eight miles to Bourne and the day one finish at Mass Maritime Academy. 

My friend George and I decided silently that this would be a good time to pick up the pace, the first chance we had to do so all day and we cranked along averaging almost 20mph. It felt good to really put our muscles to use and the final few miles clicked by rapidly. Before long, we rolled into MMA and there was Gail waiting for me as she has done for all eight years of my PMC participation. She was a sight for sore eyes and shortly after arriving she whisked me off to the inn we had booked for the night for a shower and then to our favorite restaurant for a wonderful dinner. Finally, at about 9pm, it was lights out for us both as we knew that Sunday would be another early day. Launch time on Sunday was, once again, 5:30am which meant leaving the inn at approximately 4:30 and I needed some rest before then.

Sunday

Gail drove me back to Mass Maritime Academy on Sunday morning and dropped me off there just as light was beginning to creep over the eastern horizon. There were many riders already heading out at 5:00am and the roads were already crowded with cyclists and a few cars trying to make their way through the throng of bikes.

I connected with the team and, at 5:30, we were all assembled and ready to go. We managed to head out within five minutes of our desired start time, a first for our little herd of cats, and we made the slow trek to the base of the Bourne Bridge. The Bourne Bridge is one of two that span the Cape Cod Canal and is on the west end of the canal. It is not overly long but the grade is somewhat steep getting to the apex and riders are restricted to one lane. An early climb in a confined space makes for slow going. Some riders actually get off their bikes and walk up the ascent which makes the going for those behind them even slower. However, we made it to the top and, on the descending side, I found an open area and was able to move forward.

Shortly after leaving the bridge behind us, we are able to enjoy the Cape Cod Canal Path, a section of wide flat paved path which rolls for about five miles between the Bourne and Sagamore bridges. This section of the ride is fantastic as it allows riders to ride easily, warming up the muscles for the ninety miles that lay ahead and to do so at a brisk pace. The sun was rising over the canal and it was a beautiful morning. I had checked the weather forecast the night before and was reasonable sure, as sure as one can be as respects New England weather, that the day would be bright, sunny and warm. The complete opposite of the day before.

As I rolled along, the morning stiffness left my legs and I felt strong. I picked up the pace and decided to push myself a bit. It felt good to be able to ride faster after the perilous conditions and slow speeds of the previous day. Once we left the canal path, we entered the beautiful, rolling countryside of Sandwich. By that time, well-wishers carrying mugs of coffee could be seen at the side of the road with words of encouragement for us all. When we encountered a length of scenic, tree lined road, it seemed that we were all experiencing a sense of quiet determination as the most predominant sound was that of the whirring of wheels, chains and gears with the occasional quiet call of “On your left” as one rider passed another.

There is a road in Sandwich which parallels Route 6 named Service Road. This road used to be a main connection between towns before Route 6 was built but now is more lightly used, especially at six fifteen in the morning. What I love about Service Road is that it is a series of rolling hills which allows cyclists to gain great speed on the down-hills and use that momentum to climb the next up-hill stretch. Doing this requires some planning and good use of gear ratios but, when done correctly, it is great fun and very fast. I don’t know if it was luck, skill or a combination of both, but I felt perfectly in sync with the road and my bicycle and flew over the 6.5 miles of Service Road. It was a great feeling and it would not be the last time I experienced it during that fine summer day.

When I rode into the first stop of the day in Barnstable, I noticed that I had done the first 24 miles of the day in just under ninety minutes. Knowing that the first 3 miles took almost a half hour, I quickly calculated that my pace for the next 21 miles had been around 19mph. Not bad for an old man.

Shortly after I arrived, the team started rolling in. Everyone was in high spirits and enjoying the sunshine, the warmth and the cheers of supporters and volunteers who greeted us at the entrance to the stop. We chatted, topped off the tires with air and the bottles with Gatorade and water. I ate fruit like it was the last time I would have the chance. Peaches, plums and bananas all tasted wonderfully sweet and satisfying. If only I had found a cup of coffee, the moment would have been perfect. Then, it was back on the bikes for the next, somewhat shorter, leg of our day’s journey. Fourteen short but fun miles to the next stop at Nickerson State Park in Brewster. The sun was rising higher and the day and the faces of those at the side of the road cheering us on were bright and cheery. We thanked supporters for coming out to see us and for helping to further the fight against cancer. I felt great and the miles seemed to fly almost effortlessly by. Before I knew it, we approached the grounds of Cape Cod Sea Camps and one of the favorite spots of the days’ ride: da’ Hedge!

Located in the town of Brewster is Cape Cod Sea Camps. Founded 95 years ago, CCSC is renowned for teaching young adults to sail and appreciate each other as well as a wealth of other activities. One of those activities, on the first Sunday in each August for the past twenty years, is cheering on PMC riders and acting as important participants in PMC weekend and the fight against cancer. The large campus of CCSC has approximately a two hundred yard frontage on Route 6A in Brewster. This border is lined with a four foot tall boxwood hedge and it is behind this hedge that the campers stand, shouting and cheering encouragement to all PMC riders as they pass. It is controlled chaos. Moderate mayhem. In summary, it is a wildly exuberant explosion of enthusiasm which is always appreciated by PMC participants. My friends and I stop at da’ Hedge each year and share high fives with the campers and get a photo amid this celebration.

Team Five & Dime at da' Hedge

Just a short mile or two down the road, was the next water stop at Nickerson State Park in Brewster. Once they have arrived at that festive location, riders know that there is only about 40 miles left in our journey. Nickerson has a real party atmosphere because, in addition to the food and beverages offered in quantity by the wonderful volunteers, a local radio station sets up a broadcast booth and pumps music into the air. It is a somewhat surreal experience to see hundreds of lycra clad middle aged riders dancing away to bike themed tunes from the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and more. While I will not readily admit to busting a move with friends (or strangers), I will say that I can get down with my bad self. ‘Nuff said.

Another delightful offering at the Nickerson stop is the towels soaked in ice water that brave volunteers with really cold hands distribute to any rider wishing to cool down. The sun was strong by mid-morning and the temperature was rising accordingly. A cold towel on the back of the neck was a delightful treat and helped keep my body temperature down to a reasonable level. We ate, drank, filled our bottles and then headed out once more. 

Upon leaving the state park, the route takes us on the Cape Cod Rail Trail for several miles. As we have done in the past, a number of us formed a pace line and cranked along at a nice, accelerated pace. The rider in front did short ½ mile pulls which prevented him from getting too fatigued and still allowed the four riders behind him to ride fast with a greatly reduced effort level. Then the lead rider would drop to the rear and the next rider in line took the lead. We rode this way for quite a while continuing after the rail trail ran out and we moved onto the coastal roads in Wellfleet. 

There are some rolling hills in Wellfleet that, once again allowed us to use momentum generated on the down-hill sections to help propel us up the inclines. It was an exhilarating, high speed roller-coaster of a ride and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Just before the final water stop, there are two more challenging hills but, once we had put them behind us, it was a quick ride culminating with a sprint into the school yard which held our last water stop of the day. Once again, there was music, dancing, food, Gatorade and more. A unique addition at this stop are “ice couches”.

Having spent the better part of two days sitting on a hard, skinny bicycle saddle, some riders experience quite a bit of discomfort on their backside. The ice couches are bags of ice cubes stacked about two feet tall and covered with a tarp or sheet for the purpose of giving those riders who need it a cool place to sit for a while and ease the discomfort. I have never needed to use these cold seats but, I can tell you, they are always full.

In addition to the food, beverages and ice couches, there is also a tent offering massages which is also always full. Many of my team mates took advantage of the opportunity to have the knots kneaded out of their necks, backs and legs by the skilled hands of volunteers who, with smiles on their faces, helped the riders get rid of the kinks which can develop into cramps and muscle 

spasms if not attended to.

We were finally ready to tackle the last segment of our two day journey and our commitment to continue fighting cancer with the PMC in 2017. We mounted the bikes and all headed out toward the hills of Truro knowing that some nice climbs and a stiff headwind lay ahead. All except me, that is.

Just as I climbed aboard my bike, I rotated the pedals backward so that I could lock in the cleat on my left shoe. When I did this, the chain came off the chain ring in front and wedged itself between the chain ring and the bottom bracket. This has happened once or twice before but this time it was wedged so securely, I could not get it free. The team was out of sight and all I could do was head to the mechanical tent and hope that the volunteer mechanics would be able to get me back on the road quickly. All I could think about was how difficult it would be to catch my friends at the pace at which they cover ground. The mechanic who took charge of my bike, like all volunteers, helped me quickly and with a smile and easy conversation. As he worked, my phone rang and I noticed it was my team mate Tommy calling. I answered and he asked if I was ok. I told him what happened and he said he was waiting for me about 200 yards down the road. I suggested that he ride on and told him that he did not have to wait for me. He responded by saying, “I am staying right here and waiting for you. You don’t want to fight the headwinds alone”. That is the kind of friends with whom I ride: selfless, dedicated and caring. Thank you Tommy.

I left the mechanic’s tent after just a couple of minutes and quickly found Tommy waiting at an intersection down the road. He waived me by and then quickly caught up to me and the two of us picked up speed and began the final twenty miles toward Provincetown and the culmination of our trek.

The countryside on the outer Cape is beautiful and we rode past marsh land filled with birds and waiving grass and verdant forests shading the road from the late morning sun. It was a perfect day and Tommy and I flew down the flat pavement enjoying each other’s company and the beautiful ride.

About five miles into this last section, there are a couple of hills which you do not expect to encounter on Cape Cod. These climbs come in stages and, although they are fairly short, they are steeper than you would anticipate and include twists and turns that make it hard to see the crest of the hills. Add a little headwind and it was even more of a challenge. All I could do was drop into a lower gear and grind it out. I was starting to feel tired which made the climbs feel longer but I got through them. There are always a few families who line the sides of the road on these hills and encourage us by telling us we are almost at the top and that there are only a few more miles to go. Sometimes, the former of those statements is not always true but I am grateful for the attention and support of these folks and the distraction that their cheers provide even if there is still another hundred yards of climbing to do.

Once we got through the Truro hills, we turned onto Route 6A and headed straight toward Provincetown. The road is wide open on both sides and provides no break from any wind which may be encountered. A good portion of this section is long low grade hills which, normally are not too bad. But, if you add a seven to eight mile an hour headwind into the mix, these low grade climbs become more of a slog. Several of us formed a pace line once again, although this time it was at a much lower pace, so that not everyone had to deal with the headwind head on. We pushed through the next few miles until we saw where we would make the final stop as a team: the Welcome to Provincetown sign. 

After our “photo-op” at the PTown sign, an annual PMC tradition, we knew that we had about eight miles left including a ride through what are known as the Provincetown dunes. As I have mentioned in the past, these are not sand dunes as you would normally think of them but a road through a series of rolling sand hills which, at the end of a ninety mile ride, seem like a pain in the rear end. They are, however, a reminder that we need to keep up the fight against cancer and give all that we have to beat that awful disease. My goal, each year, is to end the ride on PMC weekend with nothing physically left to give. When I cross the finish line, there should be nothing left in the can.  

Some folks opt to skip the dunes as it is an optional addition to the ride. They can head straight in to the finish at the Provincetown Inn or the Family Finish at a nearby park and be done with the event for another successful year. This year, about half of the team opted to ride the dunes, myself included. We regrouped at a couple of spots so that we could ride the last, long climb up the paved path on the mountain of sand. A final sprint to the apex of the hill and we were on flat road once more. 

Most folks had opted to end at the Provincetown Inn which is reserved for riders only (no families allowed). However, Gary and I both opted for the family finish where Gail was waiting for me and Gary’s daughter and son-in law waited for him.

With my spirits buoyed by the knowledge that I had accomplished my eighth PMC, I sprinted toward the finish only slowing for the last two turns before we reached the hundred yard ride to the finish line. Gary and I rode in together, just as we had done last year, to the cheers of hundreds of well-wishers. But for me, the only one that mattered was seeing and hearing Gail with a brilliant smile and a happy cheer for me. 

I was tired, hungry, sweaty, hot and elated. I had accomplished my physical goal and was continuing to accomplish my spiritual goal of continuing to fight cancer. Gail gave me a big hug (despite my condition) and then it was time for a shower and a beer. 

I had given the 2017 PMC ride my all and knew it would not be long before I started thinking about the ride in 2018.    

Pan Mass Challenge Year 7: Always Something New

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 5^th

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 7^th 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.

            

Day Two: “I Thought the Cape Was Flat.”

We agreed to meet at 4:45am on Sunday, August 7^th 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!