Nearing the end of Saturday's ride from Manhattan to Montauk, I pulled the camera out of my jersey for a shot of the final descent into town and accidentally snapped this shot. One grimy, sweaty, muscled and extremely tired leg, working the big ring and zipping along on the Griffen. This was the knee that had the arthroscopic surgery eight months ago, pedaling without pain for 237 km.
This is the ride to Montauk on the longest day of the year, which was true in so many ways. The sun was working overtime on Saturday, coming up as I was crossing the Williamsburg Bridge leaving Manhattan before 0600 and, without a cloud to hide behind, was a constant companion till the end of Solstice Saturday. This was also the longest distance I had ever ridden in one day (237 km). And, since this ride took almost nine hours to complete, there were a couple of hours in the afternoon, after being on the bike for six or seven hours, that were very, very long hours. It was a long damn day! 
I left home just after five o'clock in the morning, rode to Penn Station with my change of clothes and computer in a gear bag, which I threw in the truck for the ride to the finish. After getting my wrist and bike tags, I was off down 34th Street with about a hundred other riders who were doing the whole enchilada... the entire 145 mile ride. Most of the other cyclists at Penn Stationwere having their bikes taken to spots out along Long Island where they would pick them up after getting off the train. We were the purists: no trains, no shortcuts, just keep pedaling east until you run out of road.
Just after this rest stop (above), with about 130 km to go, the wonderful people at Blue Point Brewery had set up some kegs at their brewery in Patchogue. My feeling has always been the glycohol and glycogen are only a happy molecule different and a beer or some wine on a long ride goes straight to the muscles, screaming for energy in whatever form they can get it. So, beer is just sugar with benefits! I had two beers with some of the other maniacs hammering the whole enchilada and felt pretty damn good at 11 in the morning and 100 km done.
However, by this point in the ride, after far too many hours in the saddle, I was really exhausted, baked in the 34 degree heat, dehydrated despite the beer and sports drinks (one bottle of bright red Gatorade each hour since dawn) and quite ready for a shower and a meal.
The numbers: 138 bpm average for the first 160 km and then I took it a bit easier for the last 80 km and kept it under 130. Total calories: 8492. Moving average 26 km/h and total moving time was 9:06 including the ride over to Penn Station.
Having learned my lesson from the Cape Argus classic, where I re-hydrated with beer and not enough food, I headed for the food line first and then drowned hamburgers and chicken breast sandwiches with copious amounts of free Blue Point Brewery Oatmeal Stout and some delicious IPO. But, by about four thirty, I was toasted and rode over to my room at the Solé Beach Motel for an overdue shower and four hours of comatose sleep. At nine o'clock I woke up, hungry again and went out for pizza and beer, feeling fairly springy despite having propelled myself the length of Long Island that day.
The next day I went out for coffee, pancakes, home fries, toast and then ordered an omelet just because I was still hungry. My legs were not sore, but walking a few miles down the beach in bare feet was really a great way to get the byproducts of aerobic overkill moving out of the muscles and into the kidneys.
There were several other riders who had not taken the buses and trains back the day before and the LIRR was packed with bikes. By six o'clock I was back at Penn Station and riding home in the pouring rain.
Glen Goldstein, who puts these and several other large cycling events together, really does a great job. His company is Bicycle Shows US and he is also responsible for the Farm Ride and the North Fork Century. The motto for his rides is simple:
Ride Hard
Have Fun
Don't Act Like a Jerk
I had a spectacular day on Saturday, but evidently some people did not. Ride organizers do not have superhuman abilities and sometimes, well, shit happens. Trucks break down, trains don't go on schedule and people fall over while riding two wheeled vehicles. My day was the purists' day, just riding from Manhattan to Montauk without relying on the LIRR or trucks to get my bicycle from Penn Station to a short-cut to the finish. Most people can adapt, adjust and cope with the glitches, since they realize that nobody is purposely delaying their ride. But there are others who just like to bitch and gripe. Glen should add one more line, "No Whining!"
Now, Montauk 145 miles + two days and I'm going to be sloth-like, sitting in my recliner computer chair (web cam shot), trying to move as little as possible. Sensible plan.
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