The Phantom Cyclist

Wonders of the Cape Cod Bike Trails 6

The purpose of this series is to give you a look at some of the remarkable sites along - or near - the Cape Cod Bike Trails. They're a part of the rich history and charm of Cape Cod not recorded in the works of H. D. Thoreau, Joseph Lincoln, Henry Beston, Mary Higgins Clark, Robert Finch or Robert Crais. By reading about them, I hope you will gain a closer, more imtimate and meaningful appreciation of this unique little island paradise, as you pedal merrily along its bike trails.

Bob's Discount Appliances, Eastham.

  Empty the station wagon and make haste to the town dump

Bob's Discount Appliances, located at the back of the Eastham town dump*, has been a bargain hunter's paradise for decades. And, unlike BJ's, Costco or Sam's Club, you don't need to buy a membership. Just walk in. Pick up your treasures. Pay - and head for home with that glint of sheer satisfaction in your eyes. You get great bargains - for a fraction of what it would cost - even at Sears Sale Days, Joblot or Christmas Tree Shops.

I first discovered this hidden gem while riding along the Cape Cod Rail Trail's upper portion. Now into its second generation of ownership, Bob's caters to families on a budget - who know a good bargain.

When I was writing, hosting and producing "Redneck Gardening" for cable TV, I learned a lot of creative ways to re-use everyday household items. And with the treasures waiting to be found at Bob's, I guaranty you there is no end to the variety of uses you can put these old appliances to.

So, what has Bob's Discount Appliances got for you? A better question is: What hasn't Bob's got?

Need a beer or beverage cooler? Try one of Bob's top-loading washers. Just add ice - and voila! You're in like flint! Tired of opening all those cans of Hawaiian Punch for your Summerfest with a puny hand crank or punch type can opener? Just pick up an old Yamaha 185 HP from Bob's 'marine shed', place it in a 55-gallon drum, toss in the cans, fire up the engine - and watch the propeller blade neatly slice the tops and bottoms off instantly! All you have to do is remove the metal pieces - and your ready to make your Summerfest guests as 'Pleased as Punch'.

And, how could I forget those electric can openers. They make great finger and toe-nail trimmers. Be sure to buy several boxes of band-aids, just in case. NOTE: The ASPCA asks that you please don't use these for trimming your pet's claws.

Need a new TV stand? That old front loading washer will do nicely. And when you get tired of flipping channels, you can watch your own reflection in the door glass. "Look Ma!, I'm on TV!" The FLWs also make great tropical fish tanks. The only problem I've encountered so far is in feeding the fish. Whenever you open the door to put in the food, the water - and the fish - escape quite rapidly. Perhaps some creative thinking would solve this problem. But, not being a collector of fish, I'm afraid this is a bit outside my area of expertise.

Used stoves make great TV stands, too. And the doors/drawers in front can hold videos and video components like DVD players, Nintendo games, etc. Stove doors also make great coffee tables - or dinner trays for 'real men'.

And what about those heating elements from the stove top? Well, they're a little bit too large for the 'fashionistas' to use as ear, eyebrow, lip or nose rings. But, they are great for something else - instant wall sculptures or coasters for soup bowls. You can even paint them. And what about that stove clock? How about using it for a tongue ornament? When somebody asks you what time it is, you just unroll your tongue and answer their query. There's a piercing salon right next to the swap shop that will be happy to accommodate your request.

And speaking of salons: How about saving big bucks and doing your hair at home. One of Bob's used clothes dryers fills the bill nicely. After you've dyed and rolled your hair, just place your head inside the dryer and turn it on. In just 10 minutes, your hair is ready - and your wallet is still full. This sure beats the old 'dry your hair in a microwave' method first made popular by those country and western belles.

Restauranteurs 'in the know' are aware of how well Bob's clothes dryers function as salad spinners -- if you remove the heating element. For that reason, they get snapped up almost as soon as they arrive. If you're lucky enough to get one, be sure to clean out the lint trap and any dead animals before using.

Need an 'entertainment center' that's also a conversation piece? Look no farther than Bob's. They've got a great selection of old refrigerators that you can cram a studio's worth of entertainment electronics into - including your TV. Most of the doors have been taken off these for safety reasons, but if you scout around I'm sure you'll find one there. For an extra special 'crème-de-la-crème' entertainment center, look for an old LG fridge with the freezer part below. You can store your cold beer there for when you're watching NASCAR races, and never have to leave the room - except to take a wiz. If you're into watching PBS instead of NASCAR and 'reality shows', you can chill several dozen bottles of wine in the lower fridge. Truro Vineyards, just up the road, has some excellent choices.

Another great use of the refrigerators is replacing those old 'bathtub madonnas'. Instead of letting "Maddy" fry in the sun, get drenched in the rain or freeze in the snow, you can keep her nicely shielded and out of harm's way. Just put one of Bob's fridges in the back yard, place the Madonna in it - and all your wishes will come true if you also tell 7 friends within 7 days of doing so. This 'transformation of the refrigerator' has become so popular, there is a rumor circulating about bringing back the "Blessing of the Appliances" day that was once a fixture of Cape Cod life. Let's hope/pray for the best.

Bob's is also a feast for the fashion conscious. Into decorating your own clothes? Bob's want's to be your fashion supply store. Sequined jeans are out - knobby jeans are in! For that exclusive 'Cape Cod Country Look', just sew - or hot glue - a variety of appliance knobs onto your faded jeans. You'll be the talk of the town. Guaranteed.

Bob's Garden Center adjunct also offers some prime items. Need an air conditioner, but you're turned off by expensive electric bills? Just mount one of Bob's old 'pre-owned' lawn mowers in the window, fire it up and begin sucking that hot air out of your house instantly. Even with gas hovering just under $4.00 a gallon, you'll still be on the plus side with cash when compared to the Cape's electric rates. Be sure to use a blade guard - something from a charcoal grill, perhaps.

Need a cheese grater, but you're not inclined to pay Williams Sonoma prices? Bob's Garden Center has the answer. That old Scott's lawn spreader is the ideal way to spread Gorgonzola, Mozarella, Parmesan, etc. Fill it up with cheese, heft it up to your shoulder, - and crank away! If you set the spreader dial at '6', you won't even have to move around the table. You can spread the cheese to every plate right from where you stand. Be sure to wear a large plastic raincoat -- and warn your dinner guests before you start cranking.

Bob's Discount Appliances is so popular that it hasn't gone unnoticed by some outsiders. Now there's hidden market well below the radar: Foreigners. With the weakness of the dollar, many people in foreign countries have discovered that the treasures of Bob's Discount Appliances can be bought cheap - and sold dear in their countries. They arrive in their Armani suits, load up the rental truck - and spirit their finds off to Logan airport to be shipped home. Some of them spend their whole vacations at Bob's. And I can tell you that this is really helping to decrease our trade deficit. Hurray for Bob's!

There also seems to be a new trend in motion, right here on the Cape. The Rich nobs with their Trophy homes are trying to fit into the neighborhoods better (trying to be more like the locals, to ease tensions) - and they've taken up decorating their lawns and back yards with appliances from Bob's. But, in my opinion, I think they've just run out of expensive things to buy - and broken appliances are the last bastion of acquisition for the rich. That's my take on it, anyway. Or, maybe they've gotten to the point where they just have to have everything - period! They usually drive up in an inconspicuous 5-toned (4 shades of rust) Chevy Lumina wagon; but their Sydney Bespoke custom-tailored shirts and Di Fabrizio shoes are a dead giveaway as to the social class they inhabit. The old faded 'Billionaires for Bush' bumper sticker is also an instant clue.

If you're ready for bargains galore at way below discount prices, empty out the station wagon or van and make haste to Bob's Discount Appliances at the town dump* in Eastham. Happy shopping!

Hours are:

Summer Hours: (Begin 7/7/2008)
Friday - Wednesday
7:30 AM - 4:00 PM
Closed Thursday

Winter Hours: (Begin 9/5/08)
Saturday - Wednesday
7:30 AM - 4:00 PM
Closed Thursday & Friday

Swap Shop Hours:
8:00 AM - 3:00 PM

Closed all Holidays

Don't forget the 5% sales tax, if you're a Massachusetts resident.

NOTE: All items sold 'as is'. No returns. Some items may be exchanged at the discretion of Bob's employees.

*Now called the 'Transfer Station'. This term has caused some confusion among the Flex and Breeze bus riders -- and a new name may be needed to help eliminate the long lines of pedestrians waiting outside the gate.

-- The Phantom Cyclist

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Wonders of the Martha's Vineyard Bike Trails 1

The purpose of this series is to give you a look at some of the remarkable sites along - or near - the Martha's Vineyard Bike Trails. They're a part of the rich history and charm of this wonderful little island not recorded in the works of Judy Blume, Art Buchwald, Walter Cronkite, Spike Lee, Shel Silverstein or William Styron. By reading about them, I hope you will gain a closer, more imtimate and meaningful appreciation of this unique little island paradise, as you pedal merrily along its bike trails.

The Marvelous Mini-Hilton of Martha's Vineyard.

Fairly new on the landscape in Martha's Vineyard, this quaint cyclist's hotel almost goes unnoticed - except for a small plaque near the side door. You'll have to bend down or kneel to read it - and it will truly snap your mind to attention. What appears to be a beautifully designed dog's water bowl next to the door is actually something of a different matter, which I'll explain shortly. The small silver rack with pink and blue packets, which looks suspiciously like a table top holder for Sweet 'n' Low and Equal, requires further explanation, and I'll come to that later.

Designed by French artist/architect Toulouse Low-tech, the hotel defies logic, when you think that its small footprint and height could accommodate 800 guests in 400 rooms - and that includes copious closet space and a private bath; plus cable TV, swimming pool, dining room, dance hall, gift shop, movie theatre and a gym. All the beds are full-sized, and that adds even more mystery to the matter.

This hotel is truly a mind-bender, and has already garnered an impressive set of nicknames. Many call it the Alice in Wonderland Hotel, Mickey Mouse Marriott, or Ramada of the 7 Dwarfs; while others refer to it as the LSD Hilton - in honor of Dr. Timothy Leary. Whatever nickname you prefer, this charming little oasis has become the rave of the cycling world!

So, what's all the commotion and hype about? Well, the operative word here is, downsizing - and if you're in the corporate world, you're more than familiar with the term. But, this downsizing is good downsizing - as opposed to the other kind. And there's more to it than first meets your eye.

Upon arrival, park your bike at one of the racks behind the building and to the left (near the collection of metallic looking frisbees), then head for the side door (which is actually the main entrance). Drop your cell phone and wallet or pocketbook in the chimney slot. (Trust me, it's safe! And I even got back a better cell phone than the one I deposited -- and a wallet with more money.) Then pick up one of the small pink (for women) or blue (for men) packets from the rack.

Next, unzip your pants or cycling attire (don't worry, you won't be arrested and hauled off to jail for doing this in public). Then pick up the dog's water bowl and take a small sip. Be sure to put the bowl back down immediately - to prevent injury. What happens next will be mind-blowing for first-timers, but exhilarating for return visitors. Faster than you can say "Politicians are a waste of space," you'll shrink down to 1/6 scale and be ready for your new maxi-adventure in mini-land. And a truly exhilarating one it will be.

Next, climb out of your full-size clothes by your shirtsleeve or pant leg (They'll be whisked away to the dry cleaners and be waiting for you when you're ready to leave in the morning). Hold the pink or blue packet over your 'naughty parts', duck into the outdoor shower stall by the door, open the packet and put on the Mini-Hilton robe. Depending on the season, your robe will either be light silk or a heavy cotton/wool blend.

Now enter the hotel, where you'll be warmly greeted by Mr Ivah Warmhand, and his lovely wife Noxzema, who immigrated to Martha's Vineyard early last year from Marshfield, MA. Both seem to have an ingrained speech impediment and pronounce Martha's Vineyard as Marsthas Vineyard. Don't let that, or their third eye, put you off - as they are both genuinely lovely people.

What's so neat about this transformation is that as you shrink down, so do your cares and worries. Left at the doorstep are those troubling thoughts of 'the Boss from Hell,' 'Oprah dissing your book,' 'The neighbors from K-Martville,' 'a dozen new Car salesmen jumping into the shower with you,' '$40.00+ a gallon gas,' 'a third term for George W. Bush,' 'John McCain or Sarah Palin pushing the red button,' and many others equally as frightful - but too numerous to mention.

According to the hotel brochure, the shrinking formula was originally discovered in a packet of Gorton's of Cloucester fish sauce and manipulated into its present state by adding extract of squid and a few ounces of Offshore ale. Believe me, it doesn't taste bad. And I must admit that its 'mad-dog' frothy head didn't deter me from taking a huge swig the first time. So, sip, shrink, -- and in a wink, you'll be ready to roll!

The hotel's interior and rooms are decorated in the latest style of feng shui, which seems to be cultural shorthand for wind-water. The gentle sounds of moving water, accompanied by a tantalizing breeze that lightly touched my skin, drew out the last vestiges of strain from my past work week. I felt like I had gone to the Jiffy Lube, had my oil and filter changed, my radiator flushed, my windshield wiper fluid topped off and my transmission fluid replaced. It was marvelous!

The hotel's furniture is post-Raphaelite in design, and made in Japan for the Mattel Toy Company. It can best be described as no-frills retro-70's -- with a slight touch of Pier1 chic and Pottery Barn constraint. It's actually quite comfortable - while the shrinking formula still has a hold on your metabolism. The bed sheets are soft and light and have a large decorative mark that says Kleenex. Sounds hi-tech, if you ask me, but they served their low-tech purpose well.

Rumors of using the shrunken guests for lab experiments by Martian visitors are unfounded. And I can assure you that I awoke the next morning after a peaceful sleep and the only evidence of any somnambulant encounter were two large mosquito bites on my neck, one on the tip of each toe and finger and one on each side of my navel.  There were several other bites; not to be discussed in mixed company. I must have a word with the hotel managers about supplying mosquito netting.

Even though my sleep chamber did not have a window, I awoke to beautiful sunlight, which was supplied by 'sun tubes' that drew the day's splendor into each room. I like that touch. And, who needs a window at night anyway?

After shaving, showering and dressing in my robe, I ventured out to the guest patio with its lovely ocean view. The patio was dotted with pastel colored chairs, tables and umbrellas. Around the perimeter were gaily colored, spotted mushrooms. The music of Mozart emanated gracefully from flower beds placed near each table.

I was truly in heaven and quietly enjoyed my sumptuous breakfast with a fantastic water view. A small note at each place held the secret to re-sizing for the biking adventure later that day. It quite simply stated that I should take a bite of one of the mushrooms near the perimeter, but to first go to the rack behind the bushes and pick up my freshly laundered clothing. I thought, 'This is really first-class.'

But, a word of caution here. I had no sooner finished breakfast, when a large hawk swooped down and carried off one of the guests I had just started conversing with. I was totally unprepared for this and it took me completely by surprise. A guest at the next table then leaned over to me and said, "Probably another one who exceeded his credit card limit - or let his credit score drop." 'Thank God,' I said to myself,' I'm glad I pay my balance in full every month -- and also return my library books and DVDs on time.'

Moments later, a squirrel bounded in and whisked off another guest. My heart started pounding rapidly. What was happening here? A nearby guest quickly supplied the answer that set my mind and heart rate at ease. He said, "The squirrels don't like Republicans. They can spot them a mile away."

Thank God I'm an Independent. And it's nice to know that somebody is trying to reduce the Repubulican population. This incident also made me think more kindly toward squirrels. Heck, they can raid my bird feeders any time, now that I know their true purpose in life. Chow down my frenetic furry friends --- and go at 'em!

When you've finished your breakfast, you have two choices. You can hop into one of the hotel's 1/6 scale BMW Z3 pedal cars (also made by Mattel) and drive along the sidewalk, Or -- hop into your clothes, bite the mushroom, return to normal size,-- and head out on a wonderful biking adventure. Edgartown, I hear you calling!

Some guests have complained that the transition back to normal size does not always go smoothly, and their feet sometimes come out in their shirtsleeves, or neck holes. This is something that cannot be avoided, but if you are prepared for it, you will not mind so much. A Japanese friend of mine says this is the haiku of clothing and gave an example:

Against the bright sky,

my arms become tangled.

I unfold wrongly.

Well, my narrative is winding down now, but I must add another word of caution about this otherwise lovely and relaxing place. While you're in a downsized state, do not, under any circumstances, agree to engage your services to anyone asking you to go to a bar with them and play the part of a "12-inch pianist." 'Nuff said.

So, if you're looking for the ultimate in stress-free relaxation, check in at the Martha's Vineyard Mini-Hilton. And start living by the words of comedian Steve Martin, who encourages us all to make positive changes in our lives when he says, "Let's get small."

Oh, and what did that plaque near the side door say?

"Most often, it's the small joys in life that have the greatest meaning."

-- The Phantom Cyclist

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Toting 'doggies' in baskets.

One of neatest things I've encountered while riding the bike trails is people carrying their dogs in baskets -- either fore or aft. It gives me the 'warm fuzzies' all over to see that they share their love of the bike trails with their favorite pet.

But, this presents a dilemma of sorts -- for those of us who are new to 'doggie toting' while cycling. How big a dog should you carry in your bike basket? I really don't have the answer -- and I'm sure the decision rests with the individual cyclist/dog owner. So let's see if we can sort this out and set some kind of standard.

Starting with little frou-frou dogs: These take up no space at all -- you could even carry two in a basket. And, if your butt gets sore from sitting on that rigid narrow seat, you could always plop one of the little critters down on it to cushion your ride. Be sure to switch them every few miles so the ASPCA doesn't get on your case.

MY VOTE: YES for little frou-frou dogs.

Cocker Spaniels: These loveable little dogs have the greatest ears. It's neat to see them dancing in the wind like dish towels trying to escape. You could even train your Cocker Spaniel to lean to the left or right giving turn signals for you. One per basket (fore or aft) should be a standard carrying load. Or, use a dual pannier system on the back and place a 'signaling' Cocker in each one.

MY VOTE: YES for Cocker Spaniels.

Scotties: These children's sweaters with legs have been one of my favorite dogs for a long time. I can't really explain it -- and if I did, I might embarrass myself. Suffice it to say that Scotties are perfect bike basket companions.

MY VOTE: YES for Scotties.

Miniature Poodles: I'm not going to go there.

Chihuahuas: A true yap-fest in a fur suit. Chihuahuas are great safety devices. Train 'em to yap at cycles and you won't have to constantly yell out "On your left..." all the while you're on the bike trail. You can even dress them up in Mexican hats to add a festive aire to your bike riding. Or dress 'em in some primo attire and sunglasses -- and have a 'chichuahua'. 4 per basket is a reasonable content limit.

MY VOTE: YES (But, with a caveat. I've seen several chihuahuas that look like they've bulked up on steroids. I'm not too keen about that idea. And suddenly, my ankles feel very vulnerable.)

Dachshunds: Possibly. But you'll have to fold them double to fit in a bike basket. You might want to use an umbrella stand instead.

MY VOTE: Maybe.

Now, let's look at the results:

Frou-Frou's, Cocker Spaniels, Scotties and Chihuahuas all fit nicely into the niche of 'totable doggies' on the bike trails.

Dachshunds are a 'maybe'.

What about larger dogs? Well, only you can answer that question. Picture yourself riding with a Boxer, German Shepherd, Great Dane, Retriever, Rotweiler or St. Bernard on you back or in a basket: It looks pretty silly -- doesn't it?

And hauling that 55 gallon 'pooper bin', plus a 'doggie' mit the size of a Rawlings or Wilson baseball glove, tends to lessen the pleasure of cycling.

None of the larger breeds are ideal 'basket dogs'. But, if you're going to haul one, you might want to put a helmet on it --

-- and ride a tandem.

Or, get your large dog his -- or her -- own bicycle.

So, there you have it. I hope I've been able to help set some standards. Let's try to tote doggies within that framework.

~ The Phantom Cyclist

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Wonders of the Cape Cod Bike Trails 5

The purpose of this series is to give you a look at some of the remarkable sites along - or near - the Cape Cod Bike Trails. They're a part of the rich history and charm of Cape Cod not recorded in the works of H. D. Thoreau, Joseph Lincoln, Henry Beston, Mary Higgins Clark, Robert Finch or Robert Crais. By reading about them, I hope you will gain a closer, more imtimate and meaningful appreciation of this unique little island paradise, as you pedal merrily along its bike trails.

The Laughing Bridge of Bourne

The interesting story of this bridge is also a cautionary tale: Don't pay a designer or builder until they are finished and you are pleased with the results.

The original impetus for this bridge began with a request from the Boston & Cape Cod Railroad for "something that will get our passengers who can't swim across the canal over to the island." A request for designers/builders was published in many newspapers here and abroad - and the most interesting response came from France.

The letter was from one Marcel Finis Non-Sequitur, purportedly a well known French engineer/designer whose most recent accomplishment was the Larch de Triomphe. The letter was accompanied by a fine vintage bottle of Chateau Sur Merde '94. Thoroughly impressed by this credential, the Railroad Committee immediately engaged his services. And that's when the trouble began.

In retrospect, it was discovered that Non-Sequitur's Larch de Triomphe had been confused (at least in the minds of the RR committee) with the more famous L'arc de Triomphe. Non-Sequitur's famous Paris structure was nothing more than a slightly altered Larch tree that had been blocking a lane on the Champs de Lysées for three hundred years. Marvelous Marcel had bored a large hole through the tree that would accommodate a mere two cyclists at a time - only one, if the cyclist carried pannier baskets or a baguette. He was given a Croix du Fromage medal, plus 3 cartons of Gauloises, a new beret and year's supply of baguettes for this accomplishment.

Now, let me explain that Non-Sequitur suffered from mild bouts of insanity. That, coupled with his penchant for drinking up to a case of champagne a day, did little to ensure that his Railroad Bridge design would be functional in the real world. Misfiring synapses could also explain the end results. But, in actuality, it was later discovered that pickled - or sober - Non-Sequitur only saw trains in liquid form. This could have been a result of his eating too much overly fermented cheese as a child.

Non-Sequitur's design was for the train to roll up to the bridge, turn 90 degrees upward, travel to the top, turn 90 degrees downward, etc. until it was merrily chugging along to Boston on the other side - or vice versa to destinations on Cape Cod. This was never divulged to the Railroad Committee. And even if it had been, they would not have understood. None of them spoke French. I'm not pointing a finger at Non-Sequitur or the Committee, just presenting the situation as it was.

When Non-Sequitur's original bridge design was shown to the Committee they looked at it a bit warily (possibly because it was drawn in crayon on a paper bag), but concluded (after several cases of champagne and many toasts) that the design was an improvement over no link across the water - and that everything would "sort itself out during construction." They paid him in advance. Big mistake.

The work progressed, the champagne flowed, and many months later the day came for the Grand Unveiling. All the local citizens and dignitaries, plus a feathered and bejeweled group of Boston Brahmins, Brahmatrons, Brahmisses and Brahmistresses, turned out to witness the momentous event. An entourage of local bands struck up some very inspiring music as the large gray canvas that had been draped over the now completed bridge began its glorious unveiling ascent. When it reached the top a chorus of voices from the crowd chimed in to accompany the music with a loud, resounding, multi-layered shout of….WTF????!!!!!!!

Now, bare in the glistening sunlight, the structure pierced the sky with a time-halting presence. Spectators stood motionless as the bridge revealed itself to be of a completely immovable design, with railroad tracks running up and down both sides and across the top.

No words could explain the shock and mortification of the onlookers. They departed in silence, shaking their heads in disbelief. Shortly after this scene, members of the Railroad Committee and their families departed town by night - and were never seen again. Some say they were done in by local contributors to the building fund. But I believe, in my heart, that they moved to "Upper Bourne" and were later responsible for hiring an Italian designer to develop the traffic rotary.

Needless to say, the bridge, like most fruit cakes and punch bowls, never went into service. Today it stands as a monument - and a reminder - to always be clear on your design and never pay for the work until it is finished and approved.

The railroad station, specially constructed for the new bridge and affectionately named the "Toot Suite," was later purchased by President Grover Cleveland and moved close to his summer residence near the Cape Cod Canal. You can see it from the bike trail there.

The failure of the bridge design, coupled with the loss of vast amounts of donated construction money, left a pall over the town of Bourne which it has, to this day, not fully recovered from.

The town's pride and status have been somewhat elevated and enhanced by the recent building of the Cape Cod Tunnel; where passengers can now exit trains on opposite sides of the Bourne Bridge and walk across to a waiting train ready to speed them on their way.

Today, if you go down to the bridge where the tracks end, you can put your ear to the rail and hear the ghost of Marcel Finis Non-Sequitur laughing in a drunken stupor. That is why it is called the Laughing Bridge of Bourne.

C'est finis.

--- The Phantom Cyclist

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Wonders of the Cape Cod Bike Trails 4

The purpose of this series is to give you a look at some of the remarkable sites along - or near - the Cape Cod Bike Trails. They're a part of the rich history and charm of Cape Cod not recorded in the works of H. D. Thoreau, Joseph Lincoln, Henry Beston, Mary Higgins Clark, Robert Finch or Robert Crais. By reading about them, I hope you will gain a closer, more imtimate and meaningful appreciation of this unique little island paradise, as you pedal merrily along its bike trails.

The Abominable Sandmen of Provincetown.

There's been a serious outbreak of 'rumpy-pumpy' in the dunes. Oh, no! Not again! Well, this seems to be a recurrent theme - and, perhaps, it's just summer re-run time.

As recently as this past June, a number of 'abominable sandmen' have been observed by cyclists and hikers in the Dunes. The sandmen romp around stark naked, engaged in sand ballet, leapfrog, hide the gerbil and other outdoor sports not usually performed in polite company.

The locals call them sandmen for the simple reason that they are like a desert mirage. One moment you see them. The next, you don't. When you shout, "Hey you! Stop that, it's disgusting!" they seem to disappear into the dunes; somewhat like the Clay People in those old Flash Gordon serials disappeared into the rock walls.

Now, let me state that nudity doesn't bother me. In my youth I once streaked a Baskin- Robbins in Greenwich, Connecticut. That was because the Boodles restaurant entrance was being guarded. (I think somebody tipped them off). I'm also a staunch heterosexual - and that's probably because I can't stand either the Republican or Democratic party the way they are today.

Anyway, public nudity does bother a lot of people. And nudity in the dunes, with its accompanying gymnastics, can be very disconcerting for most of the general public. It has been a problem in Provincetown for quite some time. And it doesn't seem likely that it will go away soon. The town has tried many different ways to stop it, but all of them have been only 'mildly' successful.

The most egregious display of the "Sandman Circus" (as some locals call it) happened last year when a nice family, just like yours or mine, was hiking in the dunes. Their little boy was running ahead and then darted off into the bushes to play 'hide and seek' - and pop out at his parents and siblings as they strode by. What he got was the surprise of his life - because he had just stumbled upon a group of 'sandmen' en flagrante delecto.

He literally bounded over the bushes - hair standing on end, arms flailing like helicopter blades - and ran up to his family screaming those words a parent never wants to hear: "Mommy, there's a bunch of naked men behind the bushes - and they're playing Twister!"

The parents later wrote a letter of complaint and were responded to with an official apology, plus tickets to all the events at the next Provincetown Carnival Week. The little boy has been receiving counseling and seems to have readjusted to his normal life.

Another notable incident happened last August, when a whale-watch boat was passing Wood Lighthouse. The captain and some of the passengers witnessed a group of 20-30 sandmen "playing around." The captain got on his bull horn and shouted out, "Stop that! You're scaring the fish away!" The men continued their romp -- and several excited passengers jumped overboard to join the activities.

I have it on 'good authority' from an aquintance who knew somebody, who knew somebody who knew somebody who was there, that the cause for the 'romp' around the lighthouse was a celebration. It seems that a group of Provincetown entrepreneurs had all launched their new "." com companies the same day. They wanted to celebrate their IPO's and decided that this was an ideal venu to 'go public' in a big way.

Because of a lack of manpower to patrol the dunes, the police effort has been one of containment, rather than capital punishment. When caught, the sandmen are usually let off with a warning to "Stop doing that! What would your mother say?" and an order to cover themselves with a towel. None have yet been brought to police headquarters, because handcuffing them could be construed as an all too suggestive act.

The patrols do go on - although sporadically. On one occasion the Provincetown fire department was sent out with 'pumper packs' on their backs to squirt cold water on the offending gymnasts. This had little effect, because the sandmen could easily outrun a fireman with a pumper full of water strapped to his back.

Then, the police department sent a special SNAP team armed with wet rolled up towels. This also partially failed, because the culprits were very adept at either outrunning the donut-powered SNAP team - or blending into the surroundings. The two sandmen who were caught seemed to like being 'snapped' and put up no resistance - even after five minutes had elapsed.

Former Provincetown policeman - and former sandman - Randy Buttocks, who wishes to remain anonymous, told me the sandmen are now so creative and clever at concealing themselves that the police never have a chance to apprehend them.

To quote him: "Now they flatten themselves face down in the sand, disguised as bicycle racks. Or, effect positions that make them look like driftwood or lawn sculptures." He further divulged that, "They also disguise themselves as bike bridge buttresses and ornaments - and they actually look quite marvelous - almost Art Deco-ish."

A new patrol group, formed by the police choral society, has taken to walking through the dunes singing, "Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make his complexion like peaches and cream…" to lure them out of hiding. To date, this has not worked - although several officers have heard "a nice harmony coming from somewhere out there in the dunes."

One disgruntled P-Town cop suggested that "When they're caught, we should tag their 'weenie' with a brass tracking button like the conservationists do to keep track of animals." That is something to think about, although I hope the button doesn't say 'Steiff'. That would just be too obscene.

How do the sandmen get there without being seen? Is there a "Buck-naked Bus Lines" shuttle to the dunes? I don't know. Perhaps they just ride their bicycles like you and me.

If you do happen to encounter one - or more - of these sandmen, please do not mention Barbara Streisand, Judy Garland, Betty Davis or Madonna to them. It could cause a nervous reaction - and then who knows what would happen to you. If you do make a slip of the tongue, take a few slow steps back - point and say, "Oooooh, is that Barry Manilow over there?" - then run or bike like hell the other way.

To be on the safe side, you could say that you are St. Mary/Fred, Patron Saint of the Third Gender, and that you are taking donations for a new retreat. When they say, "Sorry, I don't seem to have any change on me," you can whack their 'pee-pee' with a ruler and send them off with a firm admonition to keep their clothes on in a public place.

There seems to be no end in sight of these rude 'doings in the dunes.' But, perhaps some kind of public forum could address the problem. In the meantime, the P-town police are at a disadvantage - and they'll be even more so, when the sandmen start to complain about 'profiling.'

-- The Phantom Cyclist

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