It's been a while since I've done a Why Cycle Wednesday post, but a recent ride on Cape Cod provided the perfect inspiration.
My big Christmas present from Mrs. SOC this year was this painting by Johanna Bohoy titled "To the Lighthouse." The story behind this painting is here, but suffice it to say that the Mrs. had it done special and shows me riding to one of my favorite places on the planet - Highland Light in Truro, MA.
The only problem, which the Mrs didn't know at the time, was that this had never actually happened. As much as I've ridden my bike on Cape Cod - and even rode through Truro once - I've never ridden to the lighthouse. A few weekends ago, I decided to do something about that.
So early on a Saturday morning, the last day of our visit and before the Mrs woke up, I kitted up and left our hotel in West Yarmouth, pointing my bike east/northeast toward the sunrise and Highland Light.
There are a few "Yarmouths" on Cape Cod - West Yarmouth, South Yarmouth, Yarmouthport - but no actual "Yarmouth" that I've ever found. There's no "East Yarmouth" either: East of West Yarmouth is South Yarmouth, which is where this cool Victorian shop is located, right before crossing the Bass River into West Dennis.
Emily Dickinson wrote "There's a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses..." I cannot imagine an antithesis so complete as the light on a summer morning. No matter whether it's clear or cloudy, a summer sunrise fairly pushes you out of bed and into the fun of the day. This is the view of one such summer sunrise from the bridge over the Bass River.
And the boats on the South Yarmouth side, patiently awaiting their next adventure.
One of the greatest things about a long bike ride "down Cape" (anywhere between Hyannis and Provincetown) is that you can take the Cape Cod Rail Trail (CCRT)- the first bicycle "superhighway" in the country. Here's the trail head - about 5 miles from our hotel. Words can't adequately describe the feeling of traveling on a dedicated bike path, for miles and miles, early in the morning, with no cars and only the sound of the wind, the humming of your tires, and the whhirrr of your gears disturbing the tranquility of the ride.
The path takes the route of the New Haven Railroad's Old Colony line for 22 miles from Dennis to Wellfleet. There's even a branch off to Chatham, at the elbow of Cape Cod, using one of the only bikepath rotaries you'll ever see (look for it in Harwich). Click on the pic above (or any of the pics) to get a larger view - in this one you can get a nice overview of the trail, as well as a very early example of women's cycling.
The main reason for the railroad pushing out onto Cape Cod - other than for general transportation (it was faster than horse and wagon) - was to take cranberries to market. This is one of the old cranberry warehouses that's still around. It's been a bike shop and ice cream stop in the past, but I'm not sure what it's used for these days.
Shortly after I took this pic - which is very typical of the scenes along the CCRT - I startled a robin that was right in the middle of the trail. He took off and flew a little further up the path before he landed and had to take off again to avoid me. He flew down the path and I was able to draft him for 100 meters or so before he pulled off. The short pull was ok - he wasn't much of a draft anyway.
Although the trail goes through the middle of the Cape, far from its famous beaches, there's plenty of water to see along the way. Kettle ponds and lakes dot the landscape all along the way, along with dozens of cranberry bogs. And just past Hinkley's Pond, in Harwich, you'll find this throwback to a simpler time - the Pleasant Lake General Store. True to its name, you can stop here for just about anything - but their ice cream is especially good. And they have ample bike racks (just be sure to use them).
This is Long Pond, just a little further down the road, er, path.
As you saw at the beginning of the trail, there are a number of informational signs along the way, especially suited for the thousands of casual tourists that ride the CCRT each summer. You can learn a lot if you stop to look and read. And even though I wasn't toodling - wanting to make good time to my destination - I stopped from time to time to check them out.
And a good thing too - I not only would have missed this scene, but wouldn't have learned a thing about it. Namskaket Creek, Brewster, just past Nickerson State Park.
As you come into Orleans, you pass this lumber company - another former railroad customer. But fortunately, unlike the railroad, it's still in business.
Sorry for the backlit view (if you tilt your monitor, you may see it better), but this is Orleans, trackside (trailside). That's Orleans Cycle - one of two bike shops here. The other shop is just out of view to the right (and is where I rode my first fixie - which almost launched me over a parked car).
As beautiful as the CCRT is, there's nothing very remarkable about the portion from Orleans to Wellfleet. It heads north through the back country and tends to be more undulating as it goes over the little hills made by the dunes.
To continue Down Cape, you leave the rail trail and take a left out of the parking lot, and a right onto Route 6A. The "Old Kings Highway" is particularly scenic from Sandwich to Orleans, all tree lined road and old colonial houses. But the Rt. 6 limited-access highway merges with 6A from Orleans to Provincetown, and while the scenery is still lovely, everything is a bit more sparse, and the road is a LOT more busy.
It's also very hilly - or at least seems so after 22 miles of relatively flat rail trail. But the shoulders are wide and once you get over the shock of having to share your ride with cars and trucks, it's not a bad route. Frankly, it's pretty much the only route if you want to get to where I was headed.
Obligatory town line shot. No, I didn't sprint (that would have looked pretty foolish), but stopped to take a picture instead. Only a few miles left to go!
To get to the lighthouse, you turn off Rt. 6 at the "wrist" of the Cape - more particularly, South Highland Road. After a couple of miles, there on your right, you'll see the turn for the Highland Golf Course and Highland Light.
Taking this turn will offer you a menu of attractions all out of proportion to the small, obscure location. In addition to the Truro Historical Society (located in the old Highland House, a throwback to the early 20th century), you can see Jenny Lind Tower. Rising 55 feet, it looks like a Norman outpost, but it's actually part of the old Fitchburg Railroad station in Boston. Jenny Lind, a famous Victorian Era opera star, had sold out the local concert hall and didn't want to disappoint the hundreds of fans crowded outside. So she went to the railroad station next door, and sang from the top of the tower. It was moved here, stone by stone, to North Truro in the 1920s.
The Tower overlooks the oldest golf course on the Cape (and one of the finest 9 hole layouts in the country, according to Golf Digest). When you're golfing at Highland Links (as it's often called), you'll think you're in Ireland or Scotland. There are hardly any trees, just gorse and sea breezes. It's the perfect links course. In fact, the 5th hole plays along a high bluff overlooking the ocean - just be careful not to slice your ball into the Atlantic or you may hit one of the whales that are sometimes seen along this shore. The best shot off the 5th tee aims for the lighthouse. It's almost like playing a giant's mini-golf course. Fortunately, there are no clowns.
As wonderful as they are, these attractions weren't my reason for pedaling over 40 miles. This was:
This is the approach to Highland Light from the road. The Atlantic Ocean is on the other side.
If you continue past and around the lighthouse, you can follow a path to a deck on the bluff overlooking the ocean. This is the view back to the lighthouse from the deck. Click on the pic for a larger view, and check out that rock (with the plaque behind it) - that's where the lighthouse USED to be. Years of erosion on the bluff had threatened to topple the lighthouse into the drink, so in 1996 it was moved back 450 feet.
This is the view from the deck. You can't quite make out Morocco, but it's over that horizon (quite) a few miles away. The cliff is just past the bush there.
Looking a little more northeast, towards France, maybe England. You can hear the surf breaking, if the wind isn't too strong.
The plan was for me to ride to the lighthouse and have Mrs. SOC meet me there with the car. That would serve a two-fold purpose: 1) I'd be able to take the car back to the hotel so we could checkout on time, and 2) Mrs. SOC could commit to, er, "film" the image in her mind when she commissioned my painting. . .
I, for one, think she and the artist did a fine job.
Nice write-up, Chris. This part especially resonated with me -- "Words can't adequately describe the feeling of traveling on a dedicated bike path, for miles and miles, early in the morning, with no cars and only the sound of the wind, the humming of your tires, and the whhirrr of your gears disturbing the tranquility of the ride." One of my most memorable rides was out on the CCRT, early in the AM on a winter's day before the sun came up under the light of a full moon. The tranquility that you described combined with the moonlit images made the ride almost surreal.
Posted by: Dennis Desmarais | June 30, 2010 at 01:17 PM
ThanksDennis! Id hoped to convey a little bit of what I was feeling while riding that morning. The winter morning ride you describesounds absolutely wonderful and beautiful (if a LOT more cold .. .) The CCRT is an amazing resource - Cant wait to get out there again (just a week and a half away!)
Posted by: suitcaseofcourage | June 30, 2010 at 02:43 PM
This post makes me really happen. To see the photo of you and the painting.
You lucky man you.
Keep riding and writing. Preferably not at the same time though.
Posted by: Rishabh | July 07, 2010 at 10:34 PM