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 CRW Cape in a Day | June 2015 | photo gallery |
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BEST OF TIMES Marc and I rolled over from Cambridge in time for the 5:15 pre-ride instructions. Ellen G briefed the 30 or so assembled riders in the Gillette World Headquarters parking lot (no charge for CRW cyclists courtesy that fine company) and we were off. The temperature was arm-warmer cool with a forecast of a mid 60s high, light winds, and little risk of Sunday's impending rainstorm arriving early. The first part of the route was Dunkin Donuts, Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, Dunkin Donuts, Dunkin Donuts as the latter built an insurmountable 5-1 lead on our path south to Quincy where I lost interest in keeping score. And it was Quincy that served us up the BEST. As a group of 15-20 of us sped down Hancock Street, a Quincy Police Department SUV (one of the town's 68 cruisers, their web site informs) passed us on our left and triggered its flashing lights. Traffic was light at such an early hour and we rode in reasonably tight formation, so there didn't seem much basis for my first thought, "citation." And a citation was not to be. Instead, the officer paced us to a red traffic signal, stopped traffic to allow us to cross, then repeated the favor at the next major intersection. Nicely done, Quincy, nicely done. You're the BEST. WORST OF TIMES A few more miles loomed ahead before we'd meet up with the worst of times. The Quincy group of 15-20 splintered a bit with our bunch settling down to 8-10 through Plymouth, across the Sagamore Bridge, and into Sandwich. We slow-rolled our way through a craft fair on Route 130, crossed under Route 6, and climbed to the Service Road rollers for some high-speed pacelining. Marc and I and our new friend Chris (riding his first-ever century and prepping for the July 26 Lake Placid Ironman) split off from the group in Barnstable for a quick lunch stop, then continued on: Yarmouth, Dennis, then onto the crowded Cape Cod Rail Trail in Brewster through Orleans, Eastham, and Wellfleet. The hills of the Outer Cape began with Ocean View Drive and its spectactular Atlantic vistas, then continued after Wellfleet Center into Truro. We stopped at the home of friends Andy and Laura to say a quick hello and pick up a pre-arranged pack holding a change of clothes. We summited the last hill at the Salty Market (formerly Dutra's) before descending to the flats of Shore Road past the iconic Days' Cottages and the welcome "Entering Provincetown" sign. A pleasantly surprising moderate tailwind pushed us along--too often, that stretch delivers a fierce headwind. The tailwind failed to save us from being "panniered," though (actually, "half-panniered"--the rider who breezed past us was laden with only one of his two rear bags). The ride concluded with a slow roll down a bustling Commercial Street to the incomparable Pepe's Wharf Restaurant where we changed and started in on the first of several margaritas over lunch. All great so far. We reserved the honor of WORST for the "service" that Boston Harbor Cruises would offer and then withdraw like a cruel Matador (or is that redundant?) taunting an innocent bull. We boarded the ferry, stowed our bikes at the bow, and settled into our seats for the 90 minute cruise back to Boston. The Concierge's voice came over the PA with a number of routine announcements ... plus one that was out of the ordinary. "If anyone knows what satellite channel the Women's World Cup game is on, we'll be happy to show it." A quick smartphone search later and I found the answer. I informed the Concierge who then disappeared through the door of a curtained crew-only room. After several false starts, he found the channel: Australia facing Japan in a quarterfinal match. Twenty or so minutes later, without warning, the channel changed abruptly to the Red Sox at Tampa. I'm not sure what's uglier--the Red Sox play this season, the dingy Tropicana Field, or the Rays' horrible 1970s throwback jerseys (odd for a team founded only in 1998). In any event, America's Pastime was ugly in every way that the Beautiful Game is not. I stopped a passing crew member to ask if he might switch back to the soccer. He proudly admitted to being a big baseball fan and to having changed the channel. Hints at our dissatisfaction didn't work, nor did the direct approach. We suffered the Ugly Game the rest of the voyage, consoled only by the knowledge that when our travels next take us to or from Provincetown, we'll have the option of taking the superior Bay State Cruise Company. Boston Harbor Cruises, you're the WORST. The Numbers
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