The Phantom Cyclist

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