Ask any senior what they most remember about their trip to Cape Cod on senior venture and they will undoubtedly reply “the bike ride”. 40 miles up and down the Cape Cod rail trail which runs along the coast of the cape through small New England towns that look just as old and rustic as you would imagine them.

For some reason, I was feeling extra motivated that morning and decided to head out on an early morning run--horrible idea. As I stepped out of the van into the parking lot of the bike rental place my legs wobbled slightly, just enough to spark a little voice in my head that seemed to think I was in for a long day. I was handed a bike and a helmet by an older guy with lots of tattoos and a scruffy beard he told me to ride around and make sure everything felt okay. Aside from the seat being a little to low, something I fixed on my own in just a few minutes, the bike was fairly comfortable. Little did I know the bike seat would become one of the most uncomfortable things in the world in just a few hours. Starting off the ride extremely ambitious, me and a large group of about 20 friends took off down the trail at breakneck speed--my second horrible idea of the day.

At this point in the ride the group had begun to break up, a few guys were up ahead still going at it, but most of us had fallen behind. After a few miles a bunch of people stopped in a rusted, barn-like store for some water, this is when me and three other guys broke away from the group and kept pushing through. At about ten miles we took a break to stop and have a drink, we had already passed most of the other groups on the trail. Knowing we were halfway there we were encouraged to keep pumping through the pain that was in our legs. All of a sudden, at about mile fifteen, my butt started to feel really funky. I hadn’t thought about it before but for however many miles we had been riding the seat had continuously been hitting me in the backside. However, with just five miles to go until the beach, I ignored the pain and kept pedaling. Turns out, we had missed our turn--we foolishly left the bike shop without a map--and biked an extra five miles past the turn for the beach.

Rolling passed the 20 mile mark we saw a few classmates of ours stopped on the side of the path talking on the phone. Curiously we stopped to ask them who they were talking to, Ted Dickson. Mr. Dickson informed us that we were about five miles passed the turn, the trip had just gotten infinitely longer. The pain in my legs and butt was now throbbing, helped along by the fact that, what I thought was the finish line was actually another ten miles back towards the beach. Coasting into the beach the complaints started rolling off my tongue, I was forced to walk in a waddling motion with my legs spread apart because of the attack that the bike seat had staged on my backside. The beach was actually very pretty; however, a major disappointment occurred when it was realized that the water was only about 40 degrees, and anyone who got in would surely not be able to feel their body for a long amount of time.

At this point people were tired and hungry, a combination that does not go well together, so we began to ride, slowly that is, to a big lobster shack that we had passed on our extra little adventure. Sitting down and getting some fresh New England food in me felt absolutely amazing. After lunch, we played a leisurely round of putt putt, and then slowly worked our way back onto the trail.

The trip back went much slower than the ride we had taken earlier that day. We stopped once again at a little ice cream store to get some of the famous frozen hot chocolate, it was essentially just a chocolate shake, but it did a great job of cooling me off. By now the groups had been weeded out with a large difference between the people who still had gas left in the tank and people who had no legs left, I was the latter. It eventually came down to me and my friend Gil slowly working our way up the path. We even stopped once more with about seven miles to go at a different bike shop. After buying drinks and performing a quick stretching session we mosied back on to the trail for the last few miles. It must have taken us the same amount of time to ride those last five miles as it did the first twenty. We inched along slowly and about an hour later, almost 5 hours after we had left the bike shop that morning, we rolled into the parking lot of our destination.

Looking back on things I am glad that I did the whole bike ride (we had the option of stopping and riding in the van) but moving into that parking lot I was cursing my stubborn self for sticking the whole ride out. I laid down on a bench for about thirty minutes resting my legs and waiting for the rest of our group to return. Getting in the van was a struggle, my legs wobbled like they had just endured a Bill Finneyfrock workout, and I knew that I would be in immense pain tomorrow. Although the bike ride seems like nothing more than an annoyance in what is supposed to be a relaxing vacation, I highly recommend sticking it out until the end because it is a great time with friends and it gives a great feeling of accomplishment.

Looking back on things I am glad that I did the whole bike ride (we had the option of stopping and riding in the van) but moving into that parking lot I was cursing my stubborn self for sticking the whole ride out. I laid down on a bench for about thirty minutes resting my legs and waiting for the rest of our group to return. Getting in the van was a struggle, my legs wobbled like they had just endured a Bill Finneyfrock workout, and I knew that I would be in immense pain tomorrow. Although the bike ride seems like nothing more than an annoyance in what is supposed to be a relaxing vacation, I highly recommend sticking it out until the end because it is a great time with friends and it gives a great feeling of accomplishment.