PMC Trip Report - Sunday

Sunday morning came very quickly. Our alarms rang at 4:30 and we were out the door with Jane at about 5am. Texted Ted from the car - in the dark - and watched as the beauty of the Cape was slowly revealed as we travelled west to Bourne as the sun approached the horizon. As we came into MMA, bikers were streaming out in a steady gush. Ted texted us: “Where are you?” “Approaching.” Jane dropped us, we said our goodbyes, and swam upstream toward the baggage trucks, the huge tent, and the promise of a steamin’ hot egg sandwich, a Sunday morning biking staple. We found Ros - the most devoted and eternally delightful PMC volunteer I know - chatted and then ambled into the tent. Ted texted “Where are you?” “100’ behind you.” It was 5:45am. There were 6 people in the tent. We ate and saddled up by 6:05. There were only about 30 riders still milling around their bikes and we rode out with the sun just over the horizon.

We were almost alone, riding single file out of MMA and toward the Bourne Bridge. Up onto the bridge without a pause for bike traffic and right over the top and down. No brakes required for the descent to the Cape Cod Canal, except for the 120-degree turn at the bottom. Onto the Canal bike path and quickly up to 20mph. Still no traffic. This was awesome. We were riding with people, passing with ease, and being passed with ease. This was a delightful surprise -- in years past, we’ve come to a stop at the base of the bridge and then ridden 4-abreast for the first 20 miles.

Onto 6A in Sandwich where I’d seen Larry Lucchino a couple of times. There he was again, as incognito as ever, but ready for a soft “low 5” as we rode by. He’s a funny guy in person, and wonderfully supportive. Have to be to be out there from 6-7:30 in the morning.

The biggest hill of the morning comes just after the route passes under Route 6 -- oddly we cross and ride on the wrong side of the street before taking a left turn and climbing Service Road leading to six of the best miles on the ride -- rolling hills that are fast. Back onto 6A into Barnstable to the first water stop, which is at the bottom of a fun, fast hill. At the bottom, there was a wise volunteer cautioning you to slow down for the hard right turn and climb into the first water stop.

So as we arrived, having started “so late,” I noticed that there wasn’t much of a crowd, and that some of the volunteers had already started to knock down tables and consolidate. Made sense, given that 85% of the riders had already been there and gone. I got a drink and went for a piece of a Dunkin’ muffin -- wanted the donut but they never get eaten, so they’re not offered. The muffin lady was the only volunteer I spoke to at the stop. I noticed her nametag, “Alexandra,” said she lived in Osterville. “Do you know my great friend Jane?” I asked. “She’s one of my very best friends,” said Sandy. Jane’s husband Gary and son Robbie had been at their house the night before. I’d almost gone with Gary to meet Sandy and Rik Clark, both of whom are very strong PMC supporters. Rik had ridden Saturday and was the wise volunteer cautioning us to slow down just minutes before. I rode back out, met him, and then we left.

The second water stop is at mile 38 at Nickerson State Park, just after “Da Hedge” at the Cape Cod Sea Camp in Brewster.
“Da Hedge” is a hedge about 300 feet long that is manned by hundreds of screaming campers. There’s more energy there than anywhere else on the ride; they give you rock star treatment. Then we turned into Nickerson State Park for the water stop with the best music on the Cape. It’s also where I met Jack, a 13-year-old survivor who’s lived with cancer for 11.5 years. That brought me right back to the purpose of the PMC.

We were quick at the water stop because we were a bit late on our plan to meet Rob Rodgers and Rob Mosher at mile 52, just at the other end of of the bike path. We’d planned to be there between 9:15 and 9:30 and ended up arriving at 9:45. I expected to stop and start, but gave a call of “Avanti!” as soon as I saw their bubbly blue jerseys. They started rolling and we kept on going, having a nice reunion as we started and introducing Rob and Rob to Ted. Ted, by the way, is a Team Avanti guy now. Great fit. Funny, nuts, and thoughtful.

We rode together with a growing bunch of riders -- we were a bit faster than the average so we were gaining on folks -- through the first gorgeous piece through the dunes to the final water stop, famous for its ice benches and Gatorade Margueritas. Rather than continuing on the regular route which jumps back on 6A and then 6, we followed the Mosher Alternate Route which took us on the back roads through the hills of the Cape Cod National Seashore. It’s much nicer, and much hillier than the PMC route. It’s now a highlight, especially the hill that climbs to the first view of Provincetown right after a screaming descent.

The rest of the 15 miles is a wild mixture of experiences -- first on a bucolic suburban roll, then along Rt 6 with trucks and beach-goers passing you at 50mph, then a long gentle climb that we somehow were able to take at 21mph, then back into the dunes for the pristine approach to the Provincetown Inn. We stopped at the turn where Ted headed to the family finish and we pointed to the Inn. I challenged Rob Rodgers to race -- a very stupid idea, but I felt really good at the time. I got a good start and then he just dropped in behind me to draft. I gave that up quickly. Rob Mosher reeled us in and we approached the Ptown Inn. We stopped and they planned to turn for the ride back to their to their car at mile 52. With a lot of sadness, I crossed the finish line alone and handed my bike over to the PMC volunteers who’d make sure it got back to Wellesley.

Within seconds, my phone buzzed and Rob told me they were waiting for me in the beer tent. Note: If you’re attired like a biker, you can walk into the riders-only area -- at least this year. I told them not to feel guilty -- their big contributions to the PMC/Jimmy Fund plus their ride earned them a donated Harpoon. We hung out for a while and they departed. I reconnected with Joe, Lisa my classmate, and Lynda the Brevet rider who, quite literally, can ride 400k in a weekend.

After a relaxing afternoon, I ambled off to the Party Boat for the trip home, thinking that Joe Parrish was ahead of me. I walked out as Lynday did and then found Lisa. As we were walking, I called our classmate, Marie, who had told me she'd be in Provincetown too. When I called, she was about two blocks away and came to meet me and Lisa. We visited, briefly, then headed to the boat.


The Party Boat had, as usual, a great band that was tons of fun. As we arrived in Boston Harbor, the Boston Fire Department boat welcomed us, as is the tradition, with full water cannons -- always a spectacular site. The band tried to say "that's all folks" to raucous cheers of encouragement and came back about 5 minutes later saying "Billy Starr says the tradition is to play to the dock, so we're going to play to the dock."

After a long wait, during which I drove the bus a few feet forward, and then the sillies route ever through Weston and Wellesely, we arrived at Babson to gather our bikes and put a close to the weekend. Ros -- of course -- jumped on the bus and said, in her Scottish accent, “Ok, you’re my last! Find your bikes and go home. Then I can too.” It was a fitting end to a wonderful weekend. Again. Thank you for supporting me and the PMC.