Harbor to the Bay: Sept. 21, 2013

My day started at four in the morning with that disorienting feeling you get when your alarm goes off in pitch-darkness.  I turned on all the lights to try to convince myself that I was really away.  I got dressed.  I drank a cup of coffee.  At 4:30 my ride arrived and I found Bobby Mac, the blind man who was the whole reason I was doing this ride this year, in the passenger seat in street clothes.  He was too sick to ride.  He was coming in to see me off and help with mechanical support at the start line, but then I'd be on my own.

Shortly before 5, I settled down to breakfast in the basement of Trinity Church.

Bobby sat across from me, looking like Death.  We had coffee and oatmeal.  Various people rushed over to fuss over Bobby and nod vaguely at me.  I told myself the coffee was working

Outside, things picked up when we encountered the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.  By themselves, they'd be a reason to do this ride.  They drive around the course, cheering on riders at pit stops.  They're a big part of the quirky spirit that makes me want to be a part of this event year after year.  Another rider caught a photo of me taking a picture of Bobby with a pair of Sisters.

Excitement mounted as the start time approached.  I found a Quad teammate to ride with.  Speakers reminded us that this is an all-volunteer ride, so 100% of the nearly $400,000 raised so far goes to charity.  I love the start-line feeling of people coming together for a common purpose, that ramping-up of energy and spirit that makes something daunting feel completely possible.  It's all the excitement of racing without the fear--just the sense, as you listen to hundreds of pairs of hands applauding through padded bike gloves, that you're part of something momentous.

The ride itself went well, though I missed Bobby.  On a ride of this length (120 miles) you really can't speed up or slow down for other people; you just have to do your pace.  So by Pit One, I'd lost my teammate, though I found more Sisters:

I rode alone for a bit, then spent about 25 miles with a guy who was doing a good pace for me.  On long rides, it's good to find someone who can ride in front of you and block the wind.  Rob and I took turns and this got us to the lunch stop, where we parted ways.

The next fifteen-mile leg was a bit depressing, as I wondered if I now had to resign myself to sixty solo miles into a headwind.  My speed dropped a bit as my motivation flagged.  At the Mile 75 pit stop, instead of quickly refilling my bottles, grabbing some sugar, and hopping back on the bike, I collected an assortment of snacks and sat down on the grass.

Which was when I saw Jane, the teammate I'd lost around mile 10. I was pleased to have found her, and even more pleased to see that she'd dropped her group, who'd been slowing her down.  We did the last forty-five miles more or less together.  Jane's stomach was bothering her--this can happen on long rides--and she dropped back a few times, but always caught up, and we chatted cheerfully for much of the ride while keeping up what I thought was a respectable pace.

Near the end, we came to the dreaded Hills of Truro.  Everyone talks about these with hatred and despair, and every year I sort of sail up them.  I always wonder if this is because of the adrenaline and sugar high, and if the next time I'll struggle.  But this year I finally had to conclude that the hills just aren't that bad.  And they're so close to the end--only five miles or so--that even if they were it really wouldn't matter.

Jane and I crossed the finish line together.  I did 120 miles in 7.5 hours of ride time, for an average of 16.1 MPH.  "Would you like some food?" a volunteer inquired.  "Oh, I'm not hungry," I breezily responded.  "We have some fresh, hot pizza," he offered.  I was halfway through my second slice before it occurred to me that maybe I should take my helmet and gloves off.

A gorgeous day!  A wonderful time for a great cause!  And you can still donate; just click here.  Thanks so much for all of your support.