Orny's Cycling Journal

For the past four years, I’ve ridden the two-day Escape to the Lake MS Ride, which goes from Lake Arthur in Moraine State Park, through rolling Pennsylvania farmland, finally dropping gently to the shore of Lake Erie in at Conneaut Township Park in Ohio. It’s been the first big ride of each summer century season since I moved to Pittsburgh back in 2015.

Of course, it was cancelled this year thanks to the still-prevalent Covid-19 pandemic.

Per my M.O., I chose to do makeup rides on the indoor trainer using Zwift, donning my in-game BikeMS kit and adding the #VirtualBikeMS hashtag to my name. My intention was to cover the same distance and amount of climbing as the actual course.

For Day 1 I consulted my new Zenturizer page to figure out what Zwift route would most closely match last year's 102.8 mile route with 6,024 feet of climbing. It recommended 3.2 laps of Watopia’s Dust in the Wind route, which begins with Titans Grove, climbs up and does the jungle circuit in reverse direction, goes back to repeat Titans Grove, then finishes through the desert flats.

Upon completion, I’d ridden 104.14 miles and gained 6,020 feet: a very accurate prediction from the Zenturizer! Even more impressive: my elapsed time in Zwift (6h 57m 13s) was just four seconds longer than my time on the IRL route in 2018… although I did spend 16 more minutes off the bike at rest stops during the real ride.

The real and virtual routes also required the same extreme level of effort. I definitely do not recommend any route that requires you to do the heinous rolling hills of Titans Grove seven times!

With temperatures in the high 80s, my biggest lesson learned was to have more ice and drinks on hand than you think you’ll need. Having fresh strawberries and pineapple straight out of the fridge sure helped, too!

That’s the story of Day 1, which was my sixth Zentury of the year. (link)

For Day 2, the Zenturizer suggested four laps of the more mellow Greatest London Flat route.

However, that route’s plan is an absolute mess, so the numbers didn’t work out as expected. After three laps, it was obvious I wasn’t going to have done enough climbing, so on my fourth lap I veered off course and ascended Leith Hill. I had been targeting 63.75 miles and 2,234 feet of climbing; at the end of four laps I finished with 64.03 miles and 2,431 feet of climbing. That’s not bad, but if the course had been properly laid out I wouldn’t have needed to take the detour up Leith Hill. The Zwift course overall took me 15-25 minutes longer, depending on whether you use moving time or total clock time.

Between the flatter and shorter course, slightly lower temperatures, and a more moderate pace, Day 2 felt much easier than Day 1.

And around Mile 50 I finally reached Level 40 in Zwift, which was my last lingering indoor goal for the spring training season. (link)

That’s a convenient segue to talking about what’s next, which is a transition from almost exclusively indoor training to mostly outdoor riding. Pittsburgh has moved to “green” pandemic status, so I feel a little safer, but I’ll still be riding alone and avoiding the bike paths. Having done a grand total of three outdoor rides in the past seven months, I’m really looking forward to getting back outside, even if group rides aren’t in the plan just yet.

And I’ve recently acquired this hydration pack, letting me handle longer expeditions without having to stop for fluids at convenience stores.

In another Coronavirus-induced blast from my Boston past, a couple weeks ago I saw a posting about Zwift meetups organized by the Pan-Mass Challenge, the cancer charity ride I devoted 14 years to. I’ve joined them for two informal meetups, and it was great talking to folks about shared memories. But even more noteworthy: this week they got Zwift to add a permanent PMC group ride to the calendar, every Thursday at 5:50pm Eastern. You can look for me there!

Like the Escape to the Lake, the PMC is another huge charity ride that will not go on this year. They’ve always offered a “virtual ride” for people who couldn’t make it, and I’ve been giving the virtual PMC serious consideration, both as a reason to spend time in the saddle, as impetus to reach out and get in contact with old friends, and as a way to help fundraise for an important cause. So don’t be surprised if you find a note from me in your inbox in the next month or so!

That’s where things stand now, as of early June. Nothing has been normal this year, and we’re all still making it up as we go along. Stay healthy, and stay in touch with one another!

There are two kinds of rainy days on the bike. There’s days with passing showers but things dry out quickly; and there’s day-long pouring rain that leaves you no choice but to slog through to the end of the ride.

This year’s Escape to the Lake MS Ride had one day of each kind.

To be fair, it’s been that kind of year. As I wrote in my last post, my week in Tuscany was almost exclusively rainy and cold; and our horrible spring weather was the topic of the post before that.

Rolling thru the second rest stop

A wet, grim start to Day 2

Midway thru a very wet Day 2

After a disappointing week in Italy, I had two weeks to train up (and then taper for) the annual two-day Escape to the Lake MS Ride.

I stumbled into some form by doing a slow ride up the Montour Trail with Pittsburgh Randonneurs Bill and De’Anna, for her last warm-up ride before her first 750-mile event. Understandably, it was a casual ride, but on the way home, I vectored off on my own down Bunola Road, which brought me up to an even hundred miles: my first century of the year. It’s nice to be able to do a century, completely unplanned!

Three days later I did a metric century up Sun Mine and Guys Run, which was pleasant. I had just enough ascending to earn Strava’s May climbing badge, in addition to their gran fondo distance badge. It was the first month that I’ve earned both badges since last August.

A week before the MS Ride, I did the regular moderately-paced Saturday morning group ride out of Performance Bike, but also did their inaugural fast-group ride on Sunday, which was fun. Then, a week before my event, it was time to taper my training.

I hate having to register for events (or reserve hotel rooms) ahead of time. You’re forced to gamble on having good weather, and monitoring the long-range forecast occupies me in the lead-up to any event.

After waiting, I registered for the MS Ride a week before, when the forecast said there’d be a small chance of rain and summerlike temperatures. Over time that changed to likely rain on Saturday and clearing on Sunday morning. We’d be directly beneath a stationary front, which would oscillate north and south all weekend, with disturbances traveling along it.

That was the story Friday night, but on Saturday morning’s forecast shifted most of the rain to Sunday. When riders lined up for the 7am start on the lakefront at Moraine State Park, it was a cool and dry 59°, but heavy overcast with ominous clouds.

The first segment was lots of up and down, and there was a patch of wet, puddle-filled roads where we’d just missed a shower. We got through it without setting soaked, but on one steep hill my slick tires kept trying to slip out on the wet pavement.

As usual, I skipped the first rest stop, which put most of the pack behind me. The crowds thinned out, and a group of a half dozen guys and I passed each other back and forth until the second rest stop, where they pulled off while I rolled on.

Mostly-shootable rolling hills punctuated the third segment. A group of five guys blew past me in a paceline, but those were the only other riders I saw on that entire 13-mile run. There didn’t seem to be as many riders on the road this year, which was probably attributable to the weather forecast.

After the steep ascent into Mercer, I took my first rest of the day. I was ten minutes behind my schedule, but that was fine, because I wanted to conserve my strength, being so under-trained this year.

The soaking-wet roads were reinforced with another round of sprinkles as I rolled along the up-and-down farmlands of the next leg. I arrived at the Sandy Lake lunch stop at 10:20am, still trailing my goal by a few minutes, so I had a quick ham sandwich and carried on.

After the lunch stop, the route follows a major road that carries high-speed traffic. It’s not my favorite part of the ride, but it does end in a ripping downhill to the Cochranton rest stop at mile 65.

But in cycling what goes down must come up, and there are two long, legendary hills leaving town, after which the small number of us on the full 100-mile route vector off on a big loop to add the extra miles.

At mile 77, my GPS told me that I was no longer on the route provided by the ride, so I backtracked a mile to the last intersection to verify the route markings. Okay, I continued, again leaving the GPS route, but after a couple miles with no signage, I stopped and started to call the support number to verify that I was on course. But another rider rode past, so I followed him until more signs appeared. It was probably a short detour, but I was uncomfortable that we weren’t on the route I’d downloaded.

Not long after, we rolled into an unexpected rest stop, where I learned that both the route and the mile 83 rest stop had been moved at the last minute. The town had stripped one of our roads and had planned to resurface it the day before the ride, but had been delayed.

At the ad hoc rest stop, I had to admit my fatigue and accept that I’d have to plod and nurse my way over the last 20 miles. The final rest stop at mile 91 came just before the last big hill, and I took a ten-minute rest there before setting out.

The last segment was a painful challenge, but I made it to the top of the ridge and enjoyed the final 300-foot descent to the finish line at Allegheny College in Meadville.

I arrived at 2:42pm, which was the slowest of my three times doing this ride, but most of that will have been due to added mileage from the detour, combined with my confusion and backtracking along the route. Although there had been sprinkles and some roads were wet, the predicted rain had held off. It was still really cool and overcast, but that had protected us from the summertime sun.

Evening was predictable. I checked in, got my bag, stored my bike, got into my dorm room, showered, and collapsed until suppertime. The food’s always good, and I shoved down a tray full of chicken, rice, pickles, berries, ice cream, and a cola. Afterward, I relaxed and watched a New England Revolution soccer match on my phone.

I also checked the weather. Originally, Sunday was supposed to be clearing and approaching 80°, but the oscillation that had given us a mostly rain-free Saturday was about to reverse. That was verified when, after a fitful night’s sleep, I got up at 5am to steady rain and a gusty breeze. Between the cold, wet weather, an aching back, and an unsettled stomach, I was not looking forward to setting out.

After breakfast, I kitted up with all the gear I’d brought and set off with the rest of the unfortunates at 7am into a heavy, soaking rainstorm. The worst part about riding in the rain is the initial getting wet, because once you’re soaked through, no amount of rain and puddles and road spray is going to make you any wetter. At only 54°, the first segment was just miserable. My only consolation was that I’d only have to ride in it for 65 miles: about four and a half hours.

After skipping the first rest stop, the rain lightened to the point where you could almost convince yourself it was going to stop. But the sprinkles returned throughout the second segment.

At the second rest stop, I gathered strength for the ride’s final noteworthy hill. Continuing through serious farmlands, I distinctly recall the absurdity of passing a group of a dozen girls in simple Amish dress, sitting in three neat rows on what looked to be a small choral riser by a driveway. I weakly waved a greeting and they all called out cheerful hellos. It was absolutely surreal.

After having slackened for a while, the skies opened up again after the final rest stop. However, the ride was almost over, and the final ten miles were mostly downhill. I arrived in Conneaut and rolled down into the lakefront park at 11:26am with no ceremony, but delighted to get out of the rain.

After steady rain and temperatures that never exceeded 57°, I spent no time enjoying the lakefront reception. I grabbed my finisher’s medal, a small square of oregano-laden pizza, and a Dilly Bar. Once the ice cream had disappeared, my only goal was to get warm and dry. So I biked up to the upper parking lot, grabbed my bag, commiserated with other finishers in the changing tent, loaded my bike onto the truck, and hopped on the chartered bus that would bring me back to the start line.

With Inna out of town, I couldn’t repeat what we did last year: staying in Erie and spending a leisurely Monday on a lakefront beach before driving home. Having left my car at the start line in Moraine State Park, the only way back was the bus. That was for the best anyways, because it was terrible beach weather, and I just wanted to go home and dry out.

Obviously, the ride’s salient element was the weather. The ride itself went well enough, and I’m glad to have a second century under my belt for 2018. But the rain and cold temperatures took most of the fun out of the experience. Happy to put the event behind me, I drove 45 minutes back to Pittsburgh, where—lo and behold!—I returned to a very welcome 80° and sunshine!

One of my cycling goals for 2017 was to ride both days of this year’s Escape to the Lake MS Ride.

Last year I rode the 100-mile first day, which was brutally hot and my hardest ride in more than seven years according to Strava’s “Suffer Score”, but I avoided the logistical challenge of riding the 65-mile second day.

However, this year I convinced Inna to provide the extra support I needed to make riding both days possible by holding out the carrot of spending an extra day after the ride on the beaches of Lake Erie.

Ornoth riding MS Ride Day 1

Bike MS Century Challenge medal

Ornoth crushing a hill

Ornoth finishing MS Ride Day 2

Ornoth at Lake Erie with finisher's medal

As the ride approached, I had three serious concerns: whether we’d have a repeat of last year’s brutal heat; lack of training from having been off the bike for five months this winter; and not having ridden more than 72 miles at a time so far this year.

To address my fitness concerns, I focused on training, and specifically the TRIMP charts provided by Strava and Stravistix, which I described back in this blogpost. It’s a model that provides quantitative metrics for fitness, fatigue, and overall form.

By keeping an eye on my numbers I could strategically decide when to train hard and when to rest. I arranged things such that I came into the ride about 4 percent more fatigued than last year, but that was more than offset by being 20 percent more fit. Numerically, Strava said my readiness had gone from last year’s -3 to a +7. Stravistix used different numbers but came to the same conclusion: an improvement from -6.7 to +9.9. The TRIMP charts were comforting and remarkably effective in getting me where I needed to be.

Saturday morning Inna drove me up to Moraine State Park where I checked in and got ready to ride. Right at 7am, just as I was about to line up, a thunderstorm came through, delaying the start by forty minutes while I scurried back to wait in the car.

After the storm’s passage, I found myself lined up at the back of the pack. Once we departed, I concentrated on making steady progress toward the front while simultaneously rationing my effort. Skipping the first two rest stops were helpful in that regard.

The first segment was more up-and-down than I remembered, and the roads were slick from the rainfall. But that soon burned off, and the terrain flattened out for the next two segments. The only curveball was a short detour in the middle of the third segment that added about a mile to our route. Finally a big hill led us into the third rest stop, where I quickly refueled and headed out. I was joined by a guy named Jay for the painless fourth segment, which led us into the lunch stop. By this time my stomach was starting to feel a little ooky, so I downed part of a ham and cheese sandwich and continued on alone through the fifth segment, which featured a few long, gradual hills.

Leaving the Cochranton rest stop at Mile 63, the landscape decides to assert itself. A very steep climb out of town eases off a little before continuing on for some distance, followed by a second long, slow climb. Then the 100-mile route forks off into open, rolling farmland punctuated by some leg-sapping spikers. By that point, my legs were tiring, but nothing like last year, and surprisingly no one seemed to be passing me!

After a brief rest at the Mile 81 rest stop, I pushed on through a very manageable penultimate segment, breezing past a couple of last year’s forced resting places. I stopped at a new rest stop at Mile 87 before climbing the big hill that followed. My power was down a lot over that last segment, but I successfully (i.e. without stopping) dragged myself over another long climb that heralded the final descent into Allegheny College, where we’d stay overnight.

I arrived at 2:43pm after 7 hours and 3 minutes, averaging 16 mph and 57 feet of climbing per mile over 102 miles: finally completing my first century ride of 2017! Between better fitness and a temperature that was 12-15 degrees cooler, I was a lot less blown at the end than last year. My 2016 ride’s “Suffer Score” of 465 still stands as the hardest ride I’ve ever recorded on Strava, while this year’s 305 only ranks as my 27th hardest, despite having shaved more than half an hour off last year’s ride time!

I checked in, stored my bike, got my bag, found my room, showered, and ate dinner. I felt good, but still decided to forego swimming and massage, choosing instead to relax in my dorm room and recharge my phone and bike computer.

I slept poorly, so at 5am Sunday morning I got up and had an early breakfast before getting kitted up, packing, putting my bag on the truck, fetching my bike, and lining up in the first group to depart at 7am.

Right from the gun, I concentrated on getting over the first big hill of the day and putting some space between myself and the rest of the riders. I skipped the first stop and made a quick in-and-out at the second. My legs were good, and I had little problem getting over the only other big climb of the day, at the start of the third segment. From there, although the route trended downward, it featured many more leg-sapping rollers than I had expected.

The penultimate section was bound to be difficult, turning west, straight into the teeth of an 18 mph headwind; however, it was nothing like the stories I’d heard about 2016’s Day 2 headwinds. The temperature was heating up, and at the final rest stop I washed off with an ice water towel and stuffed ice into my jersey pockets to melt while I rode. That last leg—finally crossing into Ohio!—was an easy descent to the lakefront park at Conneaut Ohio, aided by a tailwind and the absence of rolling hills.

I was one of the early finishers, completing 63 miles at 11am after 4 hours of riding, averaging over 17 mph and only 33 feet per mile of ascent, with a much more pleasant Suffer Score of 121.

I had time to wade in Lake Erie and take in some food—including two Dilly Bars!—while waiting for Inna to pick me up. I also chatted with my friend Kai and a couple other guys from the Saturday Performance Bike group rides, who all seemed in good spirits.

After the event, Inna and I reconstituted a tradition my friend Sheeri and I used to have following my Pan-Mass Challenge rides: taking Monday as an extra day off to play tourist and relax on the beach… With the obvious difference that this year we were on Lake Erie rather than Cape Cod.

Our Sunday night hotel room had a jacuzzi, but I didn’t have the time or energy to put it to use in-between dinner and two significant sporting events: the US men’s soccer team earning a draw in Mexico in World Cup qualifying on an astonishing goal, and the Pittsburgh Penguins scoring in the waning moments of regulation to win a second consecutive Stanley Cup title. Monday was spent enjoying one of eleven beaches on the peninsula of Presque Isle State Park before driving back to Pittsburgh for a good night’s rest.

Overall, it was a great weekend. The MS Ride was successful, enjoyable (i.e. much less painful), and a really great experience. I got plenty of sunshine, fresh air, and exercise. The saddle time will put me in better shape for the numerous long rides scheduled in July, August, and September. And I had a great time with Inna, both in terms of her support for my ride as well as sharing some fun times together afterward.

One of the ironies of being hired by Buildium was that they field a team for the Cape Cod Getaway MS Ride. Being well-known for my cycling, I was pretty much obligated to ride, despite having made a big deal about quitting the PMC—the big charity ride I’ve been involved with for 14 years—last year. Nonetheless, I was looking forward to the MS Ride, which took place a week ago.

Another interesting bit is that it is kind of a clone of my yearly Outriders ride. Both go from Boston to Provincetown, and the two rides take place on consecutive weekends. The big difference is that Outriders is a single 130-mile day, while the MS Ride is 175 miles over two days. Or at least it’s supposed to be…

The day before this year’s ride kicked off, the weather report was bad enough that the organizers decided to pre-emptively cancel Sunday’s 75-mile leg up Cape Cod from Bourne to Provincetown. They expected driving rain and winds above 50 mph, which made it impossible for the ferry to run and bring riders back to Boston.

Since the storm wasn’t going to arrive until Saturday night, they decided to still hold the first day’s 75-or-100-mile leg from Boston to Bourne. It dawned comfortably cool and somewhat overcast. After getting up early and packing my bag, I hopped on my bike for a 4-mile warm-up ride down to the start at UMass Boston.

At the start I met up with the rest of the Buildium team, including former Sapient colleague Andrew Blackwell, whom I hadn’t seen in more than a decade. In addition to local and remote employees, our 60-person team included friends and relatives, people from the Seattle-based company we recently acquired, and investors. I also spoke to old friend Johnny H, who was manning the Quad Cycles repair tent.

Finally the starting time came, but not before some speechifying. Near the end, the captain for Team Velox Rota spoke in memory of Bobby Mac, the Quad Cycles ride leader in whose memory I’d devoted last year’s final Pan-Mass Challenge ride. He quoted two of Bobby’s most famous sayings: You can go fast, you can go long, but you can’t go fast for long; and: Ride with love in your hearts and smiles on your faces. I was taken completely by surprise, and had to stifle the tears it evoked.

Finally we took off. The team rode together for the first 20 miles, giving me a chance to socialize and take photos (Flickr photoset). One of my favorites is of Sapient alum and Buildium founder and CEO Mike Monteiro riding the first dozen miles in his rubber Crocs, having forgotten to bring his cycling shoes.

When we reached the first rest stop, I took one look at the line for porta-potties and got right back on my bike. I was destined to leave the group behind at some point, because I was the only person who planned to do the 100-mile route rather than the 75, and it made sense to push on now, rather than hang around in line at the rest stop. But as I rode through the far end of the rest stop, my bladder was gladder when I saw another whole row of porta-potties with no lines, no waiting! After a quick pit stop, I took off, picking up speed to ride ahead at my own pace.

Over the next couple segments I paid the price for having ridden slowly with the rest of the Buildium team. I skipped the second rest stop and sliced my way through packs of hundreds of riders, getting myself up toward the front. Then I saw three team members at the side of the road, fixing a flat. While I stopped to make sure they were all set, I watched as hundreds of riders I’d just passed returned the favor. Hoping not to lose too much ground, I set back off again in pursuit.

I pulled into the lunch stop at mile 40, hoping I was ahead of the bunch, and only stayed long enough to eat a bag of chips and fill my water bottle with ice and cola. I saw two Buildium jerseys there, but quickly pressed on.

Between fast riding and brief (or skipped) water stops, I was finally outpacing the main body of the ride. The roads finally opened up a bit for me, to the point where I was often riding alone, with only a couple other riders in sight.

About 50 miles in, near the point where the 100-mile ride forked off from the 75, I finally recognized one of the roads we were on. For most of the morning, we’d taken a much more coastal route than the more-familiar Outriders ride, which goes inland quite a ways. The route had been interesting, although the crowds hadn’t given me much opportunity to sightsee as we passed through unfamiliar towns like Cohasset, Hingham, and Marshfield.

As I passed (and skipped) another water stop, the road I was on ended in a T. Both the Outriders ride and the 75-mile route went left toward Plymouth, while the 100 turned right, adding an extra 25 miles of new and unknown roads. Those back roads circled around through cranberry bogs and into the sandy woods of the Myles Standish State Forest before popping back out for a short stretch on a familiar favorite, Long Pond Road.

On that extra 25-mile spur, I stopped to refill at the 60-mile water stop in Middleboro, but skipped the next one at mile 74. At mile 82 the routes merged back together again at another rest stop. As I rolled up, I heard someone exclaim that there were just 16 miles left of the ride, and I still had a full bottle, so I decided to just push on, skipping both remaining stops.

Although I’d been riding fairly strong up until that point, I was starting to tire and lose power, and a stiff headwind kicked up in advance of the evening storm. As I plodded my way into Bourne, I passed the scene of an accident, with police attending to a rider lying on his back in the middle of the road. Fortunately, I later learned he was okay.

Just a couple miles later I turned onto Academy Road for the familiar approach into Mass Maritime Academy, where the PMC also overnights. I rode across the line at 1:58pm, having ridden 102 miles in a surprising 6 hours 11 minutes. I checked in and picked up my event tee shirt and finisher’s medal. And in a riding sense, that was the end of my first MS Ride.

Originally, between my company beach day and Outriders and the Cape Cod Getaway, I had been targeting riding over 400 miles in eight days. However, with Sunday’s 75-mile ride to Provincetown cancelled, I wound up with only 350, which isn’t that stellar an achievement; after all, I did 300 miles in three days for last year’s PMC!

More importantly, after spending time in Provincetown after Outriders, I wasn’t going to get back there again after all. A week earlier, I’d said some tentative farewells to Provincetown, and it seemed like those would be my final goodbyes. “P-town” and the ride up Cape Cod are among the things I will miss most about New England when I move.

Having arrived at MMA, I tried to follow my tried-and-true PMC arrival ritual: pick up my bag, shower, and find the massage tent. The bag was easy. The shower was a little more difficult because I first had to find my room in the maze of MMA dorms, but I eventually found the right undifferentiated passageway and the nearest men’s room. The showers were hot and semi-private, and very welcome.

The next order of business was finding the Buildium team tent, which didn’t take long. There were a couple riders there from our investors, but I was the first employee to arrive, and with four idle masseuses, I stepped up and took a well-earned turn on the table.

Then there was some food and socializing, but it was a good two hours before any other teammates arrived. After canceling Sunday’s ride, the organizers had allowed people to ride the 100-mile route even if they’d only signed up for the 75, and a large number of Buildians took advantage of that offer, most of them doing the first century of their lives. I was really proud and impressed with them, and glad to see them finish the day smiling.

By 8:30pm, the promised sprinkles began, the party started getting sloppy, and I chose to go back to the dorm to get a head start on sleep. As usual in the dorm, sleep was a rare commodity. I don’t think I got more than a couple hours of it before loudspeakers started barking instructions at 5am Sunday morning about gathering bicycles on trucks bound for Boston.

I went down to the cafeteria and discovered that some of our team had already hopped buses north, so apparently it was every man for himself. I went back to the room and packed up, then met up with Tora on her way out.

We went straight to the buses waiting outside, but despite having an umbrella, I wound up soaked to the bone by a wind-blown deluge. The wind gusted up to 57 mph, and we set records for rainfall and the lowest high temperature for that date. As we waited for the bus to leave, our company president, Dimitris, dragged himself on board. So much for his advice the night before of sleeping in late and gathering as a team!

After an hour on the bus, I was discharged into the UMass Boston parking lot where we’d started. Thankfully, I immediately spotted my bike and got ready to ride home. Needless to say, I had to fight the rain and the wind all four miles back to my condo, and left large puddles marking my route from the building’s entryway to my unit.

But by 8am I was standing in my bathtub, stripping off my sopping-wet jeans and tee shirt. At least I had the rest of the day to warm up, dry off, and recover from my first MS Ride!

Here’s the Strava GPS log, and here’s my Flickr photoset.

So that’s the story; what about the summary?

Overall, it was a good experience. I’m really proud and impressed by the company, which fielded a team of sixty riders, many of whom rode their first centuries, and who raised about $83,000 this year, making us the fifth largest fundraising team in the event.

The ride itself was nice, and I enjoyed doing a route that covered a lot of new ground. Of course, I’m very disappointed to have missed what was probably my last opportunity to ride up the cape to Provincetown, but canceling Sunday’s ride was definitely the right decision.

Naturally, there are big differences between the MS Ride and the PMC, starting with a fundraising minimum of $500, rather than $5,000, which relieved me of the PMC’s huge fundraising effort.

Starting in Boston allowed me to ride to the start, rather than having to get a hotel out in Sturbridge. Giving each team its own little tent—and its own masseuses!—was different, and seemed to work well. And I have to admit that I’ve always been disappointed that the PMC doesn’t give out any kind of finisher’s medals.

But the biggest difference was that this was the first charity ride I’ve ever done as part of a team, rather than as an individual. Rolling out as a group was cool, as was riding together (at least as far as the first water stop). Seeing other riders along the route wearing our team kit gave one an instant icebreaker. And I was guaranteed to have a big group of friends to hang out with at the finish. Those all made this ride a very different experience from my 14 years as a solo PMC rider.

So overall, despite losing Sunday to a monsoon, I really enjoyed doing the ride, and—for the first time—sharing it with so many of my friends and co-workers.