Pan Mass Challenge 2018

Dark clouds, bolts of lightning and heavy rain were ahead. It was a gloomy ride out to the western end of Massachusetts for me, Reno and Alderman to start the Pan Mass Challenge. Daniel was apparently ahead of us and said the storm was so strong that it “looked like the end of the world.” We were just looking for the end of Massachusetts.

Thanks to my supporters, I had raised enough money to qualify as a Heavy Hitter for the Pan Mass Challenge so I committed to riding an extra day. This year that “Day Zero” would be from the New York border on Friday to the official Day One start in Sturbridge.

Alderman had arranged for another dozen and half riders to join the three Team Kinetic Karma riders at the New York border, mapped the route, arranged for rest stops and coordinated all the details. Reno convinced his wife to drive us to western Mass and to ride support. I supplied a truck.

We woke on Friday morning to a foggy, humid day. The forecast gave us an 80% chance of thunderstorms with flash flood warnings. It had rained overnight, but it was not raining as we got ready. Reno, Alderman, Daniel and I jumped on our bikes for the 10 mile ride from the AirBnB to the rally point at the New York border.

Day Zero: New York to Sturbridge

There was a long series of emails over what we were going to wear. We could have been mistaken for teenage girls going to a One Direction concert.

We decided to ride in our Sheldonville Bike Repair jerseys as a memorial to our fallen teammates: Danno – who died doing what he loved, Jeff – cancer, and Patrick – cancer. Danno loved the Day Zero ride. It puts the “Pan” in “Pan Mass.”

The climbing for the day started after about 12 miles. That splintered the group. Reno had the strong legs. He had been riding hard all Spring, and it showed. He joined with an “A” group of a half dozen riders. They quickly rode off the front.

It was a fast pace. It was too much for me. I was not willing to start lighting matches with another 270 miles of riding ahead. I dropped back with a “B” group. We kept a peppy pace, but a more reasonable pace.

Eventually, we came to the Becket town line sign. I had to stop and take a picture to send to my son in memory of his summer at Camp Becket. Lance came along and we finished the 10 mile climb together.

After the rest stop we had 15 miles of fast descending. The skies had cleared and we had blue skies. We could go fast. We were bombing downhill between 30 mph and 40 mph. The we faced another big climb into Westhampton coming up out of the Westfield River valley into the Connecticut River valley. On top of the summit, we were staring out at thick clouds that looked like trouble.

We descended into Northampton, grabbed the rail trail through downtown and across the Connecticut River. We had a big stop at Atkins farm set up by the Alderman’s mother and father. There was a plethora of donuts. That has become the mascot of this Day Zero ride, leading to its new name: the Donut run.

The clouds of the morning had given way to a blazing sun, high heat and high humidity. The rain held off. As we came closer to Sturbridge, I began wishing for just a little bit of rain to cool me off. It never came. A post-ride dip in the Super 8 pool was incredibly refreshing.

After cleaning up, we gathered under the tent in Sturbridge as more Team Kinetic Karma riders arrived in Sturbridge.

It was time to refuel with a few passes through the dinner line and few beverages. We mulled around for the opening ceremonies, gaining inspiration for why we ride: Fighting cancer. The opening ceremonies underlined that. Then it was an early bedtime.

Day One: Sturbridge to Bourne

We were up before dawn, squeezing into the tight PMC jerseys. We strapped unicorn horns on our helmets to celebrate our Pedal Partner, Maya. She loves unicorns, so we turned ourselves into some semblance of unicorns to get a smile on her face.

As the sky began to brighten, we heard the Star Spangled Banner. The police escort fired up their motorcycles. We followed the rumble of their engines under a flag hanging from a Sturbridge fire department ladder truck. Amid the flashing lights, I quickly pulled to the right with Reno and Alderman. Mrs Reno had iced coffees waiting for us. I took a water bottle out of the cage, tucking it in my rear pocket, and replaced it with the dewy cup of iced coffee.

Now the challenge was trying to ride faster to catch up to the rest of the team. Plus, we had to find the team. On Day One, 99% of the riders are wearing the PMC jersey. It’s a sea of the same colored jerseys. The unicorn horns helped me spot fellow Team Kinetic Karma riders on the road. Once we had a critical mass, we pedaled hard to stay near the front of the throng of PMC riders.

We had two surprises at the Whitinsville rest stop. Teammate Dawn was not riding this year, but she and her husband were there to greet us with big smiles and big hugs. The other surprise was somber. Patrick’s wife and small baby were also there. Patrick, a member of Team Kinetic Karma, had finally lost his battle with cancer earlier this year. His brother, Alec, had joined the team to ride in his memory this year.

We were off on the next leg, to Franklin. My wife and kids were waiting there for me.

A few miles past the Franklin water stop is Cherry Street. Year after year, the street comes out to throw a party for the PMC riders that flood thorugh their bucolic street. There is music, bands, bagpipers, bubbles, cheers, signs and the yells of supporters.

At the end of the street is the former location of Sheldonville Bike Repair. Danno’s former neighbors on Cherry Street still put out the Team Kinetic Karma banner. They also put up a memorial sign. Danno will always ride on.

Onward to the merge. Just before the lunch stop, the Wellesley riders and the Sturbridge riders merge together. You can tell them apart because they looked less tired.

The lunch stop offered a chance to refuel and for the teammates to gather together again. We had a special appearance by PoPo and baby PoPo.

We had been warned that rain was a certainty today. It was likely to be heavy. My phone went off with a flash flood warning for the area. I looked up at dark clouds ominously rolling towards us. I nodded to Captain Dave that we should get going to stay ahead of the heavy stuff. The rain started before we could get to our bikes.

It was a sloppy, splashy ride to Lakeville. A special thanks to the partying spectators who set up the Hop Stop at mile 80, handing out some Belgian Gatorade.

At Lakeville, we got see Maya, our Pedal Partner. It was amazing how much better she was doing now that she had finished her treatment and seems to have kicked cancer’s ass.

The rain was only getting heavier. We were soaking wet. Maya and her family were trying to fight off the rain. Heavier rain was supposed be on the way. Sadly, we all knew that we had to be brief and get back on the bikes.

As we rode to Wareham, my phone kept going off with warnings of flash flood warnings and tornado warnings. At the Wareham stop, a volunteer had the weather radar up. There was a big patch of yellow and red coming towards us.

Even with the heavy rain, C1 was waiting at the Bourne finish line for us. A ray of sunshine through the gloom.

It was time to hydrate, shower, eat and refuel. Sunday morning would be early.

Day Two: Bourne to Provincetown

The rain broke the heat, but the air was still saturated. It was foggy and soupy as we woke before dawn. We assembled for our usual Team Kinetic Karma picture on the mound by the baseball field.

As usual, we are late to get out of MMA and were trapped in a slow roll to, up and over the Bourne Bridge. We had a brief hello with C1 as the start of the Cape Cod Canal Rail Train. Then we got into a paceline, a long line of riders in our blue, yellow and white. Each one in front of the other, blocking the wind. I was up front. Slowly cranking up the speed. Pushing along the wind and the pace for the riders behind. Navigating our line safely through the stream of PMC riders.

From there it was the rollers of the Service Road. The team fell apart as we took the climbs at different speeds and sped down the descents. More family was ahead at the Barnstable stop.

We could regroup in our usual spot by the fire station. We got our champagne glasses ready. Ahead was the hedge. The Cape Cod Sea Camp lines up along the hedge that borders the PMC route. It’s a roar of campers and a highlight of the weekend. We raise our champagne glasses to them as we pass as a salute to thank them for coming out.

Through Brewster to the outer arm of Cape Cod, to Wellfleet where the Alderman’s family was handing out Twizzlers to all the riders.

My legs were very tired as we hit the rolling hills of Wellfleet and Truro. It was no time to quit now. The sun was finally out and the skies were blue. The last ten miles start with a make or break section in Truro. The winds can be brutal as you pass East Harbor. Thankfully, the flags were not flapping. No headwind to battle this year.

There was one last stop for a team photo at Herring Cove Beach. Champagne flutes out, of course.

One last mile of cycling into Provincetown to the finish line. We pulled out our champagne flutes for a final toast to the spectators at the finish line.

After 283 miles over three days, I ran out of Massachusetts. There was just the Atlantic Ocean ahead. One last group photo under the official banner.