A 200k to Acushnet

The ride

After last weekend’s ride, I was excited about Southern Massachusetts. I wanted to get back to narrow, stone wall lined roads, canopied by trees. I set out this Saturday on a ride to take me back while also upping my mileage.

I rode the first sixty miles without taking a break. I made good time, averaging 15 mph. I rode past the Blue Hills Reservation, the skyline trail, a Ferris wheel by the side of the road, and on into the small backroads I wanted to see.

My route then took me through the appropriately named Lakeville. I crossed a narrow sliver of land separating two large bodies of water. Blue herons stood one-legged, keeping solemn watch.

I stopped at my halfway point in Acushnet, a town that my sister and I had ridden through the weekend prior. I pulled over next to the long and squat Acushnet Rifle and Pistol Club which looked like a converted chicken house.

After eight minutes off the bike, I tried to pedal away. My legs came close to seizing up, the tremors of cramps running up my calves and hamstrings. The day before the ride, I had done over six hundred kettlebell swings. This was approximately five hundred more than usual. My legs objected to this harsh treatment. From then on, I pedaled off slowly from every stop, paying close attention to my hamstrings.

In Weir Village, a man in a top-down convertible passed me and yelled, “good job!” He had two chihuahuas in the car, yapping the entire time. I pulled up behind him at a stop light and he turned around. “That looks like so much fun”, he said. “I like your bike, especially the [gesturing at my aerobars] handlebars.” I said thanks, and he went on, “I’ve always wanted to get into biking, but I never have.” I told him I hoped he would. The light changed, the chihuahuas yaps rose in pitch, and he drove away.

The route