The 1997 Pan Massachusetts Challenge
August 2-3, 1997


Introduction and Summary

The weekend of August 1-3, 1997, was a very exciting one indeed. This was the 18th PMC, and my 7th. This story details the events leading up to the 1997 PMC and the ride itself. Before I get to the story, however, here is an "executive" summary which will list a few important ride facts:
  • First, the most important part: fund-raising is going incredibly well. At this writing, I've got commitments for nearly $6000 in individual contributions. This is far above any previous year.
  • The new bike arrived in Massachusetts in one piece, although the rear derailleur cable was kinked and had to be fixed.
  • The weather was good (no rain), but can best be described in one word: HOT.
  • The ride went very well. My knees were 100%. My goal was to finish Saturday's ride (112 miles) in 5 hours, but for a number of reasons, I was not able to execute on that plan (you'll have to read the story!). Even so, I still had a top-30 finish of about 5:40. Sunday was a very pleasant ride.
And now, the story.
End Cancer

Where the Heck is River Street???
A Story About The 1997 PMC

Any event the size, scope, and magnitude of the Pan Mass Challenge is going to generate a lot of stories. 1997 was a particularly interesting year for me. It was my 7th PMC. I had agressive goals, both for fund-raising and for riding. There were several surprises this year, both before, during, and after the event. These would become the high and low points of the week.

East Meets West

Even before I arrived at Friday's opening ceremonies for the PMC, there was exceitement everywhere. During the week, as usual, I cruised around Mass, meeting old friends. This year, I had arranged to stop in at my company's Burlington office to meet Naaz Page. Naaz and I share a common interest: funding for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute, and, in particular, breast cancer research projects. We were discussing a proposal to get corporate backing for such a project at DFCI. Before I left California, Naaz told me that she had gotten "a few" of the Synopsys folks to sign up for the PMC. I thought this was great. When I got there, I was completely stunned as she handed me the contributions from 23 colleagues! Synopsys Burlington really went to bat for the Jimmy Fund, and I'm very proud to know these folks.

Mallory

I met Mallory Haggart through the web. She stumbled onto my web site, and decided to sponsor me. Her dad, Bob Haggart, had died of multiple myloma in February of this year (1997). Bob was originally diagnosed in 1988, and given a few years at most. He was treated at Dana Farber in 1991, and was in remission for the next 5 years.

As a columnist for the Syracuse Post Standard, Bob wrote many columns about his battle with cancer, and about others battling the disease. Bob became involved with the PMC in 1993. He felt he was not strong enough to ride, so he volunteered instead - helping stage the event during the week prior to PMC weekend, and working at water stops during the event.

Mallory at 9
Miata
Mallory, 1993 At Mallory's request, I carried pictures of her and her dad (shown here) throughout the 1997 PMC - so he could continue his involvement with the PMC. I found this to be a very moving experience, but there was more. While at the opening cermonies, I was in the exhibition suite, looking at bikes, and half listening to the opening statements. At one point, I realized that Billy Starr, Executive Director of the PMC, was talking about "friends of the PMC" who had lost the battle with cancer this year, including "Bob", a columnist from Syracuse, New York. It took me until Sunday afternoon to confirm with Billy that he was indeed talking about Mallory's dad! It seemed very fitting that Bob was remembered by the PMC in this way.

Where are we staying, anyway?

John Kowaleski, Bob Hwang, and I meet at Chris Spear's house to stage for the event. This year, John and his girlfriend, Donna Drvaric, offered to drive us to Sturbridge. Bob was arriving from Singapore and was going to be a bit late. John and Donna showed up with the car, and ... what's this? He's got a brand new LiteSpeed titanium bike! I believe this is the first material shift for John (he's always been an aluminum man) since he started riding the PMC 12 years ago. Bob showed up with a different bike as well (a Trek 5000). So, John, Bob, and I were all riding new bikes for 1997. However, in my case, it was not by choice (want to know what happenend to my Epic?).

As we arrived in Sturbridge, Chris realized that he didn't really know which hotel we were booked into. Thankfully, it was the second one we tried. The best part about this place was that it was right next to the main PMC hotel (the Host), and they were also accepting reservations for next year!

After checking in at the hotel, we hit the Host to check-in for the ride and join in the traditional pasta dinner. This year, dinner was served in the "jungle" - the interior courtyard of the hotel. There were people everywhere. Including riders, volunteers, and guests, there were probably 4000 people. Rumor has it that the official rider count was 1998. I'd guess that there were 1600+ volunteers.

We dropped by the exhibition suite to check out the offerings from the PMC and various manufacturers, including Merlin, Trek, and others. We drifted in and out of the opening ceremonies and headed back to our hotel at about 9.

Saturday

As usual, we were up at 4AM. Staying at the hotel right next to PMC-central has its benefits. We brought the bikes down and deposited them at the front of the start line, and went it to grab a quick breakfast, then back to the room to grab the luggage and bring it down to the luggage trucks.

The morning was warm and clear. Chris, John, myself, and Bob posed for this traditional starting-line picture just before getting the "green light" at 6AM sharp. We finally convinced Chris to get a new helmet this year. Maybe new glasses next year? My plan was to ride the 112 miles in 5 hours, non-stop. I had two large bottles of power-water, a 70 ounce Camelbak full of water on my back, and a dozen packets of GU (an energy gel-food-substance). Given the right conditions, an 11 AM finish was possible. I jumped up to to lead group, just behind the police escort, and the pace was a little over 23 mph - very fast. Although my legs were strong and I felt fine aerobically, I didn't really feel 100% - maybe too much breakfast. Anyway, I was determined to ride hard.

The start

The First 60 Miles

The lead group of about 30 split in two in the hills of Mendon after about 12 miles. I ended up in a smaller group of 7, passing the 20 mile stop averaging 22.6 mph. Two of us continued. This is the hilly part of the ride, and we were still maintaining about 22 mph through the 40 mile mark. Right on target. The hills continue between the 40 and 60 mile points. We picked up two other riders to help pull. After 60, it was back to two, and the average was only down to 21.5 mph. With nearly 80% of the climbing down, I was psyched.

I was feeling much better at this point, but although it's only 8:50, the day was starting to warm up. I had plenty of water - one entire bottle and lots in the Camelbak. And then, - oops - I dropped bottle number one. Since there was very little left in it, and we were on a mission, I left it. We were nearing 72 miles and Bridgewater, and that sign post up ahead ... it's the TZ

The Twilight Zone

Signs are posted all along the PMC route. These signs are a simple black background and orange arrows, and they are nailed to trees, telephone poles, and the like. The route does not change a lot from year to year, but it is a long route with many turns, and difficult (for me) to memorize. But there are times when you get that sinking feeling that you don't recognize the street. Being out front compounds the problem, because looking behind for other cyclists doesn't help.

River Street So, after 70+ miles, we determined that we were off course, and had to stop to check the map. Of course, Massachusetts is well known for having signs only on cross streets, so we weren't quite sure what road we were on! We decided that we had made a right turn at the previous major intersection, and should have gone straight. We returned to last intersection, and went off for another half mile in yet another wrong direction. No PMC signs in sight. Another stop, another look at the map. We decided we needed River Street. So, I started flagging down cars, asking "Where is River Street?" No one knew. We rode back to the intersection, and found one person who knew how to get to River Street. We followed his directions, and finally ran into a small group of PMC cyclists. About 20 minutes had been lost. And, all of the starting and stopping isn't exactly great for the muscles. And it was frustrating.

I would learn later (after the ride) that a few riders from the lead group had made the same mistake, but had recovered faster. I guess I shouldn't have given away my copy of the map on Friday night! Also, in retrospect, when we stopped to look at the map the first time, a simple right turn (from 106) would have gotten us very close to River Street. Oh well. Next year, I'll review the route before the ride.

You're Crampin' My Style!

Now back on course, I tagged along at the back of a pace line, recharging with some GU and fluids. Average speed had suffered, and a 5 hour ride was out of the question, but 5:15 was possible. I decided to pick up the pace and charged to the front of the pace line. I led at a faster pace for about 2 minutes, then moved left to "drop", that is, rotate to the back of the pack, and let the next guy take over and pull. And then, a vicious leg cramp. All I can say is "Ow". This was the muscle which runs along the inside of the left knee (Vastus Medialis?). This had the effect of dropping my speed significantly, and I lost the draft. We were at 80 miles, and I was alone.

After recovering from the cramp, I recharged and managed a smile. I dropped to the aero bars for the next 12 miles, trying to keep up the fastest possible pace. Since cramps are a possible sign of dehydration, I drank more water, but still fought off an occasional cramp. I met up with two other riders, and tried to organize some cooperative drafting, but this didn't last long, and I found myself alone again at about 102 miles. It was hot. There was a bit of a headwind. I was getting a little low on water, and I wasn't quite sure how many miles were left - somewhere between 10 and 15. It was 11:00.

Home Stretch

After navigating through the cars and flea-marketeers in downtown Wareham, there was a long stretch where I expected to see the "5 miles to go" sign, but didn't. I recharged and got down on the aero bars to pick up the pace. Now it seems like it wasn't such a good idea to drop that bottle. The Camelbak was empty, but I had a little left in my remaining water bottle.

Once I hit Onset, I knew I was nearly done. I got out of the saddle to do a short climb and made the second to last turn with about 1.5 miles to go. I sprinted to the finish, jumping the speed bump at the entrance to the Mass Maritime Academy. I arrived around 11:40, about the same time as in 1995. About 27 other riders were already there. I downed about a quart of water while signing in. I had ridden about 115.5 miles, 3.5 from the detour. Without the detour, a finish at 11:15 was possible. Oh well. There's always next year. I deposited the bike in the outdoor racks and headed for the quad.

Mass Maritime

MMA

The Mass Maritime Academy (MMA) has 6 dorms and a training ship. For the first time in 7 years, I landed a spot on the ship. Aside from the precarious gang plank, it's a pretty nice place to stay. I showered up and headed for the massage tables. Chris showed up while my shoulders were being adjusted. He and Bob had finished at 12:20, an excellent time. This was particularly significant, however, since one of my sponsors had tied his pledge to "minutes finished before Chris"! (I maintain that I had nothing to do with this idea.) I selected this time to inform Chris of the deal, and everyone got a good laugh, including Chris.

MMA

As you can see, it's quite the circus environment. The BBQ was in full-swing, and there was a truck full of "Nantucket Nectar". There was everything you'd ever want to eat or drink, except for one thing: no carmel-colored-caffeinated beverages. Donna was there, waiting for John, and I mentioned my desire for caffeine. She loaned me $1 for the soda machines in the dorms, but I never got around to using it. Below, the view from the ship shows the Bourne bridge looming the the far background (behind the railroad bridge), and thousands of bikes stacked up on the right.

MMA

John arrived around 1. The bands were playing, and the 5 of us meandered around, eating, taking the occasional siesta, and cheering riders as they arrived at MMA. In particular, I made sure we were available to cheer in Barb Asketh, a friend from Mass who was riding in her fourth PMC. She had had knee problems in previous years, but some bike adjustments this year seemed to have cured that. But she was a little overheated, and reminded me that I had requested a hot day (but not this hot!).

As if we hadn't eaten enough, we grabbed dinner at about 5:30. I ran into a friend from the lead group, and found out that they had arrived at MMA at 11. Had they not gone off course, they would have arrived at about 10:50. We also found out that about a dozen people were taken to area hospitals for various problems: a few crashes, but mostly heat related. We turned in at about 8:30 after a long, hot day.

Sunday

We woke at 4, as usual, and went down to the cafeteria for a quick, LIGHT breakfast - a PMC McMuffin and some coffee. Loaded the bags onto yet another semi, and we were ready to roll at about 5:20 AM. Bob, Chris, John, Barb, and I set out on a strictly warm-up pace and stayed together for a few miles, until the base of the Bourne bridge. We were in good spirits, evidenced by this silly pose, taken by Bob (though this could just as easily be a picture for the next chapter). You can make out the Los Gatos Cats on my Crossroads Bicycle's jersey. Not bad for a disposable camera.

By the time we turned onto the Cape Cod canal service road, we had spread out a bit, as expected. The sun was rising - a muted red ball on the horizon - visible for the first time in several years. It was another warm, clear morning.

Silly

Don't Panic!!

I raced up to join Chris and Bob. They were a few yards ahead when a good size pack started passing on the left. Then, trouble. Thankfully, none of us were involved in the accident that was about to happen. A few people were cheering us on from the left. A cyclist to my left and one bike length ahead took her eye off the road, and veered to her left. Realizing she was getting close to a cyclist on her left (we're nearly 4 across at this point), she locked up the brakes for a second. The woman behind her (on my immediate left) ran into her rear wheel, overcorrected with brakes and steering, and fliped over. While all of this is going on, I'm powering ahead to avoid the crash. The last thing I saw was the follower's rear wheel up in the air. Traffic behind stopped. She was basically ok, and I heard that she continued the ride.

This does point out how important it is to know where you are relative to the other riders around you: ahead, behind, left, and right. Further, don't panic! Practice riding with larger groups, and train to develop bike handling skills as well as endurance.

Texas to Quebec

I waited for John at the 20 mile stop while Chris and Bob went on ahead. John and I essentially rode together for the next 60 miles. It was a very enjoyable ride. John does not yet have a computer on his new bike, so I was able to drive up the pace occasionally.

One of my sponsors tied part of his pledge to the number of out-of-state license plates I could count. John and I found this very entertaining, and it really gave us a charge going up route 6 into Provincetown. "New York!" "Pennsylvania!" "Quebec!" This was really a great idea. In all, we counted about 120. Something of a challenge to keep it all separated by state, but that wasn't a requirement...

I took one good sprint at the usual place. On Pamet Road in Truro, we go under Route 6 and head up the steepest hill of the day. I sprinted out of the saddle in a very big gear. There's always a pretty good crowd on that hill, so that makes it even more fun. And, there's an impromptu water stop there, so I grabbed a drink. John crested the hill, and we continued on into P-town, taking time to talk to some first-year riders as we went.

We rolled through the Race Point hills with 6 or 7 riders, and did a short sprint to the finish where hundreds of supporters cheered. It had been a great day. We finished at 10:19, which ain't bad, averaging about 18. I drank 1/2 pint of water, and poured the other half over my head. It was hot.

It's the Real Thing, Baby!

The Provincetown Inn was controlled chaos, as usual. This is not a huge area, but there is a huge amount of equipment packed into it. I counted 9 tractor-trailer trucks. The National Guard's shower tents were up. The circus tent was up, and the BBQ was smoking away. A steel drum band was playing. A real festival atmosphere. John and I dumped the bikes, and picked up our bags. We found Donna, and after congratulations were passed around, she presented me with: a COKE! Nothing better after a long, hot ride, and another good laugh after Saturday's non-Coke finish. Of course, I paid for it with the $1 she had given me on Saturday!
coke

Donna and Chris Bob
and John

We hit the showers, and ate and ate. Shown here, from left to right, are Donna, Chris, Bob, and John (with camera), enjoying the excellent food. The Legal Seafood's Chowda Van was there, and Bass and Guiness were on tap (what could be better?). Also, there was some Alden Merrill chocolate cheescake, which I couldn't resist. I had everyone looking for Billy Starr so I could confirm that he had been talking about Mallory's dad on Friday night. I found Billy, and I after confirming that he had been talking about Bob Haggart, I spent a few minutes sharing Mallory's story with him.

We loaded up John's car once again - 4 bags inside, and 4 bikes on the back. Donna drove us back. Since it was not raining, there was no early exodus from the Cape, so traffic was light. Surprisingly, I did not really have the urge to sleep. Back at Chris', we started making plans for next year as the sun set over another successful PMC weekend.

Wrap it Up

It's hard to say anything but good things about the 1997 PMC. I met a lot of fantastic people. And, fundraising is going very well. At the close of the 1996 PMC, I was barely walking. This year, I finished strong, and was back on the bike within a week. Saturday may have had some frustrating moments, but I was able to recover and post a strong finish. Similarly, the fight against cancer has its frustrating and devastating moments, but those who are in the fight must continue, because the the cure is out there somewhere, and we get closer to it every year.

T H A N K S !

Although I do the riding, I like to think that we all participate in the PMC, and I have a lot of you to thank:

To date, my great sponsors and I have raised about $6000 for 1997, and fund-raising continues through November. In 7 years, I've raised over $25K! The PMC will probably net over $5 million this year. Keep your eye on this site - I will post the official numbers when they are released in early December.

I sincerely thank you all for your support, and I hope you will all continue to support me as I continue to ride to end cancer.