We did it!
We got up at 2:30 am, smeared peanut butter on bagels outside the Barclay’s Center, boarded a minivan to Babylon, Long Island, and proceeded to ride our bikes 108 miles to the end of the line. It was Saturday, May 21: the Montauk Century 2016.
Known to some nipple balm endorsers who shall remain nameless as “an old man’s ride,” this hundred-ish mile pedal-fest to the tip of Long Island has been happening in some form since 1964 (and I’ll have everyone know we only overheard one conversation that referenced “taking fiber”). Seeing as how I got just about all the physical exertion I can imagine wanting in one day from this experience, I say you can take your longer, hillier, spicier, juvenile delinquent-age rides and go ride them yourself, hot shot.
As for Jonathan, Andy, Arthur, and I, we soaked in the sights as we made our way eastward, sights that included:
- Potato fields
- Mother goose and fuzzy baby geese!
- Signs offering free mulch and mulch at a price
- Guys in full spandex with beer guts passing us
- Mansion-dwellers getting their new Lamborghini (or something) delivered off a semi truck whose hubcaps were decked out with six-inch chrome spikes
- One or more of us belting out Twisted Sister lyrics to keep the energy up
To be honest, much of it is already a blur. The hypnotic effect of spinning mile after mile, enveloped by the twelve-foot-high, super-coiffed hedges of Amagansett, Water Mill, and Southampton turned much of the day into one great green undulation. Even at the 50-mile rest stop, we were getting pretty dopey!
But when we pedaled through to the finish line—which on this posh ride meant beer, massages, ice cream, and a mobile shower unit—the stiff knees and sore bum readily gave way to excellent new feelings of accomplishment, relief, and the various chemical buzzings that result when you put things like beer and ice cream into your body. Ahh!
Would I do another one? Sure. Would I use the free sample of chamois cream next time? Maybe.
8 thoughts on “The Montauk Century: 108 miles, two wheels, no chamois cream”
During my massage therapist days, I had a client who’d just finished a bike journey of several months across the country. The concave curve in her lower lumbar had inverted, and she’d lost her butt. I hope you guys returned with all your faculties intact. Love, Zach
My goodness! Yes, just a bit of soreness and stiffness for us, thankfully. Unless “lost butt” is a condition that takes time to show itself, I think we’re safe :)
Read the first line a bit to quickly: I thought you ‘smeared’ yourself with peanut butter. Thought ‘that’s some kind of ride I’d like to go on!’
Ha! I think I’m in your camp, though—sounds like a delicious ride.
I am definitely impressed.
If I got on a bike these days, I’d collapse after — what? — two miles. Maybe three.
Hey, don’t sell yourself short! You know what they say about riding a bike: it’s like riding a bike.
Hey, Arthur. I like that blue and white bike top. Looks good but what am I going to wear when I go kayaking this summer? Oh, well. I enjoyed the several years of usage and that’s what you get for leaving it here when you left for the big city! Love,Mom
Arthur says: “Can you close this post to comments?”