Ride Report: Hub on Wheels

21 Sep 2008.

I was surprised. I expected the temperature to be cold, like it had been on my shakedown ride the day before. 40 anything Fahrenheit is not warm, yet as I stepped out of my car, I was surprised. The parking garage was surprisingly not cold. Pleasantly surprised, I opted to leave the leg warmers and cap in the car, and take only the arm warmers.

The cold really didn't seep into me until we were close to the start. The sun was obscured by the buildings that surround Boston's City Hall, and the wind that tears down those streets is brutal.

The start was... unique. Fast riders were to line up on the left (relative to the start line) and Slower riders were to line up on the right, the right being a far larger lane. No other guidance was offered, like, for example, what constitutes a fast rider.

Left to my own devices, I would say I'm a slow rider, 18+mph is pretty much my limit for long distances, and even that's limited (speed has not been a training priority for me). However there were people lining up in "fast" that claimed to have averages in the 12s. Not what I'd consider fast, but at least I knew I wasn't going to be the slowest fast rider.

5 Minutes to the start

The real reason I was lined up with the fast riders was I had met some nice cyclists while we were warming up in the few strands of sunlight that radiate across city hall park. One of which, George, a Marine from Hawaii, only started cycling this year and had already done the Mount Washington hill climb and a bunch of other charity and non-charity rides, including a century in Maine the previous weekend.

We, thanks to George, had lined up early and were only 20ft or so from the actual start line. It was assumed this would make our start much smoother than if we were farther back.

The Start Line

Behind us, there was a lady doing yoga in preparation for the ride. I never got her name, but she is a 4 season cyclist, or as she put it, "the fastest rider in February."

As the organizer took to the stage to remind the riders this was a "Ride not a Race," and introduce the Mayor of Boston, Thomas Menino, the energy changed in the peloton. Riders were now straddling their bikes, some had partially clipped in. The moment of truth was nearly at hand.

And then we were off.

After passing the start line it seemed like the majority of the slow riders drifted left, the organizers plan of fast-left slow-right a distant dream. I have never had to navigate through so many cyclists before. Despite being only 20ft from the front, we seemed to have at least a hundred riders in front of us. The problem with the slow riders isn't their speed, rather it's their inexperience. I can't zip by, I have to figure out what they are doing and plot the best course around them without scaring them. "On your left" only goes so far, especially in mass settings like this.

My solution? Expend a little more energy than I planned to break free of the group. Just after the on ramp to Storrow Drive, I switched to the big ring and powered it down the hill, a tad more aggressive than one would expect in a "ride." I quickly caught up with George who was waiting for others to join his intended break away.

We had three riders in our pace line and we poured it on. We rocketed by the "slower" groups in front of us. The best part of this being, as we did this, certain members of those groups would launch out to grab a wheel and join the train. In no time the lead riders were in sight.

It was at this point, as the road cleared in front of George, that I started having trouble keeping up. In traffic we were limited to around 24mph, but once clear George found another gear and took off. I kept close, to help the rider behind me, then pulled off, There was no way I was doing that pace over 50 miles.

I had planned my pulling off, so I was able to catch the wheel of a "slower" group, only going 20mph. Not that this was going to be a cake walk either, after D2R2 I hadn't really ridden my bike at all (Sept mileage: 18miles).

The problem with this group was they were inconsistent, sometimes blasting about 20, other times dropping down to 16mph. This meant that gaps were formed, and ever the good cycling citizen I took it upon myself to close these gaps. I figured it was the least I could do for hanging on everyone's wheels. Most of the time, when I tapped out my cadence I had a train following behind. A couple of times, unfortunately things didn't work out so well for the train, as I was let close the gap alone (i.e. didn't drag anyone else up).

The downside to this "good cycling citizen" behavior is you really start to wear yourself out. It is not easy to stay at the front of the train and close the gap. You can see the rider who's wheel you want, you stop thinking about the rest of the ride and become focused on his wheel. Energy conservation goes out the window.

In short order, I was dropped by this group as well. Left alone in no-man's land, I found a good recovery pace and just kept pedaling. At a certain point, I ran into George again. Turns out, someone up front gave him (and his train) a talking to about their pace ("This is a ride, not a race"). He grouped up with some others in our starting group and went on to enjoy the rest of the riding with them.

I soloed it to the first rest stop, choked down a gel and continued. The rest stop (like all first rest stops) was packed. I always hate stopping, when I start my legs are not there. To make matters worse, I was still smarting from my earlier efforts. It felt like this was going to be the hardest ride of my life.

One advantage, if you can call it that, of my predicament was my pace was slow, so I was passed by groups, groups whose wheels I could latch on to. One group that passed me (the only in this section, if my memory serves) was the Can Crash Cycling Club, known for their distinctive blue jerseys, with crash test dummy insignia.

the prophetically titled Can Crash Cycle Club

I paced them to the only real hill of the day. Of course, when I assumed pace setting duties, I wasn't expecting to be tested by a hill and unfortunately I popped. I hit the hill and had nothing for it. I pulled to the side, to let them pass, dropped to my granny gear and gutted it up the hill.

As I cleared the top I was pleasantly surprised to see most of that club on the side waiting for the last of their riders. Score. Unfortunately, I was not able to keep up with them as we approached the next bike path.

Unbeknownst to me, the lady from the start (yoga) was trying to catch up with me. She would commented later that I was a tough person to catch. The fact of the matter was I was consistent. I was feeling better and had found a good rhythm at 18mph, so that's what I kept tapping out. Later, at one point, she would blow pass me, only to be caught (and passed) a quarter mile or so down the road. Consistency has its advantages.

The bike path we were on was, simply put, a paved mountain bike path. Narrow, sharp corners and hills, a very technical path. It was in here that I caught the wheels of the Cans. A little aggressive cornering and hill climbing and I was back on their wheels.

At some point, I drifted off the back of this group as well, although I can't exactly recall when. Stopping for a red light, I was caught by another group, which included a fellow Mass Bike Pike Tour alum (with her distinctive Bianchi colored tires). She was hanging on the back of another group with a guy who had walked up the hill (at the time he said "I could ride up, but I want to save my legs to hammer later"). Anyway, on the back of this group, it was a different story ("You guys are way stronger riders than me.").

I digress, I dialed my cadence back to hang with this group (riding with people is far more fun than alone). However this didn't last long. We were entering some "hills" and the group was being splintered rather badly. At one point a lady with a white jersey (the lady in white), breezed past us. That's when I decided to pass. I slowly dialed the cadence up and easily passed the group.

At the top of the hill, we took a hard right, then had a pleasant descent. On the descent I could hear/feel the group catching up. I didn't want to get passed and have to pass them again, so I tucked in, making myself as aerodynamic as possible and succeeded in my endeavor.

Again, I was "stuck" setting the pace, maybe I should have let them pass...

After the hill, the 35 mile group merged with us. We're both going into the same cemetery entrance, albeit from opposite directions. Perhaps not the best way to merge the groups, neither group gave much quarter to the other. And what was worse from my perspective, now I had a full road of slower, sometimes inexperienced riders ahead of me. Needless to say, the pace dropped. Big time.

To the organizers credit, the duration of this chaos was limited. In short order we came upon the next rest stop. Which I skipped. I wasn't hungry, and I wanted clear roads. I didn't quite get them, as I still had to pass slower riders, but they were few and far between.

A little while after the rest stop (and after the rides had split again), I joined a spread out group of riders. A little boy and his mom were walking up the hill we were descending and the boy kept calling out "Hi!" to each passing rider. Unfortunately, no one was acknowledging his greeting. I don't think that's right. So after he called out his greeting to the person in front of me, I turned to him, smiled, waved, and said, "Hi!" His eyes brightened immediately as he enthusiastically waved back and said "HI!" to me. His mom, as well, smiled.

We would soon join the bike path that follows Neponset River to Dorchester Bay. The path was nice, roomy compared to some of the earlier ones, although this was the section the organizers had warned us about. There are two sections of this bike path that, for whatever reason, are not paved. The first section, early on, is a hard packed dirt/gravel mix. No handling problems for most cyclists, just a real fear of punctures. The second section was much trickier. It started as dirt. Right and proper hard packed dirt. Think walking path dirt. It then evolved into loose gravel. This is where your ability to handle your bike is tested. Unfortunately, again, the 35s and 50s were doing this together, so the trail was packed. I wound up riding on the grass to pass as many people on this section as I could, and ensure my own survival (touching wheels = bad).

The Reward: Boston's skyline

After taking in the sites on the water, we had to rejoin traffic on the roads. As we motored on the streets (again I was setting the pace for someone), we came to Morrissey Boulevard where the organizers had put out cones to separate us from the traffic.

It's funny, looking back with full knowledge, you pick up on things. One of the flag men telling something to a rider in front of me, who then pulled off the road after saying "thanks." Other riders were stopped in strange places with odd expressions. At the time I assumed they were tired and waiting for a friend.

The drawbridge in view, we can see a cruiser parked on it with an ambulance. Wow, a car accident, bizarre place for that.

That is when you see the body.

The legs outstretched covered by shorts of that distinctive blue.

The sight is only for a second before your position changes, making the ambulance obscure your view. A rider asks an officer, "Is he ok?" - "No."

On the side of the road, the whole Can Crash crew and some others, an officer crossing to talk with them. "He's our friend." The fake grass lain across the bridge for bikes to pass on. And you clear the ambulance.

The rider is face down, he is conscious, but the EMTs are not letting him move. Next to him a board, for him to be strapped to; they must be fearing a spinal injury.

As of this posting, I don't know his status. But based on conversations after the ride, I can piece together what happened. The draw bridge has slats for drainage, unfortunately they are North/South instead of East/West, meaning they go with traffic, put another way when a bicycle tire slips between the slats, it immediately stops and throws the rider. From what I heard, "He was thrown in the air" this must have been what happened. Given the organizers provided a safe lane for bikes to travel on (the fake grass), we can only wonder why he wasn't on it.

Sufice it to say, passing that scene dealt a big blow to the mood of the ride. It would take me a few minutes to recompose myself and get back on pace. I still wasn't 100%, until my favorite rabbit passed me again, the lady in white.

Eager to shake the funk, I jumped hard to catch her wheel and did it without any difficulty. A new invigoration filling my veins, I vowed at that point to jump at every opportunity.

Shortly after she passed me, she was caught out by a slower rider and I took the lead. Unfortunately, I missed the fact we were coming off a sidewalk and I probably should have looked for a ramp.

To late I saw, height difference. Off the curb I went. I believe she muttered a curse; I know she was far enough back that she would plot her course a little more carefully than I had. No worries for me, no harm done. I had enough time to post and bunny hop, just not enough to change course.

The rest of the ride was fairly uneventful, save we were riding through heavily trafficked roads in Boston's Financial district. We managed to navigate without much difficulty. Kudos to the Boston Drivers for putting up with us and the snags we caused (more correctly stated our marshals caused by stopping traffic).

The finish was setup brilliantly. Since this was a "Ride not a race," the organizers didn't want sprint finishes. The best way to accomplish that is to change terrain again, from roads to brick sidewalk and to fill the road with volunteers, including City Sports had employees who handed out musettes, Tour food station style. Very cool.

Two thumbs up. The course was extraordinarily well marked, with marshals at every "tricky" corner (and many not-so-tricky corners). The police were extremely helpful, closing some roads, and stopping intersection traffic at others. The views on the river were awesome, the woods were equally enjoyable. The food and drink was plentiful at the rest stops.

Distance:  48.45 miles
Climbing:   N/A
Ave Speed: 15.5 mph
Max Speed: 30.4 mph
Time: 3 hours 7 minutes 34 seconds