THE FIERCEST SISTERHOOD IN CYCLING

These nine badass women have raised millions for cancer research-through sweat, loyalty, and the kind of bond that can't be faked.

- BY PETER FLAX

If you've been to five (or five thousand) group rides, you know the drill. You pedal to a parking lot, wait for everyone to arrive or for the clock to strike a certain time, then you roll out. This one in Wellesley, Massachusetts—a leafy community about 15 miles west of Boston—follows that familiar script.

Nine riders in matching kits head south in a tight paceline. Within 10 minutes the group is cruising through a sylvan New England wonderland, past boggy wetlands and stately colonial-style manors under an endless canopy of shade trees.

The shared communion of a well-organized group ride is a beautiful thing—and it's on full display here. The riders call out obstacles and the occasional passing car. There are bursts of social chatter and moments when all you hear is breathing and the thrum of freehubs. There are a couple of tough uphill stretches where the paceline fractures, then regroups at the top before rolling onward. In these respects, this ride is like nearly every other group I've ridden with.

Otherwise, though, it's entirely different. First, all nine riders are women, ranging in age from 53 to 62, a demographic often underrepresented—even invisible—in cycling. I've been on hundreds of group rides and passed thousands more over my decades of riding, and I've never seen a group that looks like this.

But it's more than basic demographics. Most of the women have endured life-altering struggles. Four have tangled with breast cancer. One lost a child to a brain tumor. One is a 9/11 widow, and another was in the thick of the chaos at the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing. All of them have experienced the sort of existential challenges that define this phase of life—crises and health scares with kids, the undulating tides of careers and marriages, the aging and passing of parents.