The Rain, The PBP, and Other Things

Note: This title was shamelessly ripped off from the Cowsills. If you don't know what I mean, click the title…

 

Riding in France is supposed to be different than riding in Arizona, right? Well, it definitely was, and for both good and bad reasons. The ride, actually the trip, started with some nervous anticipation surrounding my “new” bike. See, smart money says that you NEVER change any major equipment after the qualifying season starts. But, I've been looking for a bike that I could have coupled. Couplers are screwing devices placed at 2 locations in a frame allowing it to separate into 2 pieces thereby fitting into an airline allowable luggage size of 26x26x10 inches. As I found out, it's also much lighter than a bike fitted in a full sized bike case.

 

I found the bike I wanted in late June. It is a ’93 Titanium Litespeed. It was fully equipped with an Ultegra triple just the way I wanted it. It was almost too good to be true. I immediately sent it to Bilenky Metal Works in Philly. Bilenky did the retrofit in 2 days and sent it back. After it returned, I put a new fork on it and had to set it all up based upon what I was accustomed to with my Merlin. While I was setting it up, I decided to shorten the reach about 1 inch and raise the bars about an inch. Since this will be my “travel” bike, it will most likely be ridden on long and very long rides. I figured that relaxing the reach slightly would be a good thing. I immediately loved it! So much so that I've pretty much decided to modify my Merlin similarly.

 

Now, with my new ride having only about 1500 miles on it (not the Smart Money approach), I headed to France for the “Tour day France” of Randonneuring, Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP). This is a 1200 km grand Randonnée which starts in the ‘burbs of Paris, goes to the Brittany Coast city of Brest, then turns around and comes back. This is done without the clock stopping. Whatever you do in between (ride, rest, sleep, eat, crash, freeze, water log, etc.) is your business. You only need to reach each control (roughly 50 miles apart) before its official closing time.

 

My wife and I arrived in France a few days early so that we could visit the spectacular Chateaus of the Loire Valley. Describing this part of the trip would be a report in itself. All I can say is that if you ever get the opportunity to visit the region, DO IT! The bike made the trip without issues and went together easily. I went for a 40 mile shake down ride in the Loire Valley and didn't want to stop. This is what cycling should always be like! Tres magnifique!

 

We moved to Versailles on Sunday to be within 5 miles of the PBP start/finish. I had remembered bike inspection to be on Monday, so Cindy and I were out enjoying Versailles when I spotted two bikes with official PBP number plates on them. Hmmmm? Is bike inspection [gulp] today?!? We headed back to our room where I quickly purchased some Wi-Fi time so that I could look at the official site and check. Sure enough, I had already missed my scheduled inspection time. Crap! I immediately dressed and headed for inspection. It was raining. It turned out that this would be a preview of things to come.

 

I made it to bike inspection. The 5 miles turned into about 10 miles (and 1 hour) after I kept getting lost. There is also about 500’ of climbing in that 5 miles, so my start/finish ride would indeed be a “bonus!” It turns out that because of the rains, they couldn't do the bike inspections. So, I just picked up my registration packet, my official PBP jersey, and chatted with friends. Spirits were high in eager anticipation of riding with about 5000 fellow randonneurs. I rode back to Versailles and then Cindy and I took the Metro (public trains) to the start so she could see the start town and preview the means to get there on her own to greet me when I finished.

 

There are 3 starting times that riders may choose. There is the group which has 80 hours to finish and they start at 8 pm on Monday. The 90 hour group starts at 10 pm. The third is my chosen group which starts at 5 am on Tuesday and has 84 hours to complete the event. I was in bed by 9 pm on Monday and it was raining. The 80 hour group had about 1400 riders, the 90 hr group had about 3000 riders.

 

I awoke to foggy skies but no rain. I rode to the start with wet roads but no other issues. I even saw a porcupine on the way to the start. I checked in at about 4:20 and headed for all the cues that riders must endure. At exactly 5:00 am, the starting gun sounded and 700+ riders in the 84 hr group headed into the countryside to the cheers of hundreds of bystanders. Ahhhhh, this is PBP!

 

The fairy tale nature of this ride ended about an hour after the start when heavy rains poured down on us. The rains were steady for 5 ensuing hours, then let up. The skies were still very dark so more rain was anticipated. It didn't slow the pace at all though. I felt great and the pace was just to my liking. The front group had dwindled to about 20 riders by now and all was well. We reached the first water stop at mile 86. The group split up as most of the front group had support. I dutifully filled my bottles, tended to business, and headed back out.

 

Within a few miles, the group started to re-form. The rains also started to re-energize. The temperatures held pretty steady in the mid 50s, so while riding it was warm enough to be comfortable. This process continued all day to Loudeac (mile 280) where I had a drop bag awaiting me with (oh sooooo welcome) dry clothes!!! I changed, ate, restocked my bike bag with food, etc. and headed out. It wasn't raining at the control, but within 1 mile of leaving, it was pouring again. Now it was dark and getting pretty chilly. The hard rains coupled with the darkness made route finding a bit of a challenge at times.

 

My planned sleep stop was the next control at Carhaix (mile 330). All continued methodically, albeit very slowly, until things started getting pretty difficult about 20 miles before Carhaix. I was getting sleepy, tired, and cold from being wet all day. I had been riding for nearly 20 hours and my fingers and toes were wrinkled from being wet so long. I was looking for someone to ride with and with 4 miles to go to Carhaix, I looked back to see if I saw lights. I was on a descent and was traveling about 25 mph. When I looked forward, I noticed that I had veered to the right. I was confused (or overly tired) and steered into the grass. When I (stupidly) tried to steer back onto the road, my front wheel hit the edge of the pavement and I was sent scooting across the road on my left side. Dang that hurt!

 

Once I stopped sliding, my first thoughts were… does anything feel broken? I moved everything and nothing seemed overly painful. OK, check! Now, how's the bike? I picked it up and the saddle bag was askew. I straightened it. I looked everything else over and saw nothing. OK, check, check. By then riders approached and stopped to see if I was ok. I rode with them the last 4 miles to the control. I was definitely going to get a couple hours sleep after dodging a major bullet.

 

I ate and gave the volunteers my 2 hour wake up call. As soon as my head hit the, well, mat, I was awakened. Hey wait, I said 2 hours, not 2 minutes. Time flies when you're soaking wet under a heavy wool blankey and sleeping like a tired baby! I ate breakfast and headed out into the cold rains for Brest.

 

As I approached Brest, the skies were clearing. But, Mother Nature was not in a charitable mood this day and picked up the winds to compensate. At this point though, I was happy to trade warmth, sunny skies, and winds for cold and rain. I made it to Brest under a blanket of sunshine. I removed my arm and leg warmers for the first time in 2 days. I headed out of Brest to the biggest climb on the route. It's just over 1000’ and quite a pretty climb. Just as we reached the summit, it started raining again. You could see the black skies all in the distance, so it was quite a sight watching every rider pull off the road into a truck pull-out and put their arm and leg warmers, and rain gear back on. It looked like a refugee camp there. UGH!

 

Well, it was rainy and windy the entire day. The weather made travel pretty slow going. I rode to my next scheduled sleep stop in Fourgeres. I arrived at about 2:30 am in the pouring rain. I was getting really demoralized by this point. The weather was not giving us any breaks at all. I was also still trying to complete the ride in under 60 hours. In order to have any chance of doing so, I needed to be up and away by 5 am. So, I was in bed by 3 and up at 4:30. I ate and was technically ready to leave at 5 am. I had just put my cold wet clothes back on and was shivering, even inside. It was pouring rain, 53 degrees, and dark. Mentally, I couldn't bring myself to go out and get on the bike. I told myself that I could do it when the sun came up.

 

Well, the sun came up and I dragged my shivering body onto the &^#* bike. I could barely breathe because of my shivering for about 3 miles and I debated turning around and going back to the control. I didn't, and in a few miles I was breathing normally and back to a more sustainable state of misery. I hit my low point somewhere in here. Then the magic of PBP took over and changed my outlook totally.

 

I passed through a village and it reminded me of a village that I had already passed twice. On the way to Brest, I went through at about 10 pm. There was an elderly lady (in her 70s) standing at the end of her property all alone and in the pouring rain cheering every rider as they rode through. I passed through this same village on the return at about 2 am, some 28 hours later. Unbelievably, this same lady was standing at the edge of her property, still in the pouring rain, still cheering every rider. Surely, if this lady who knows none of us can endure the weather and, in fact, cheer us on, then I need to adjust my attitude and look at this event for what it is… the oldest enduring bicycle event on the planet. Countless riders have experienced these difficulties, and in years past didn't have the advantage of the technical clothing and equipment we now have. I can too!

 

Then, I went around a corner in this small village and there was a cheerful man in his front yard saying “free café and crepes.” This sounded really good, so I stopped. It turned out to be the stop that changed my entire ride. He was positive, cheerful, wanted me to send him a postcard from Arizona, and fed me fresh crepes with homemade apple spread and freshly brewed café. Who was this angel? I finished, thanked him kindly, and set off on the magnificent event that PBP is. After all, I was part of the 16th running of this event since 1891, the precursor race to the Tour de France. The rain, cold, and wind continued to hamper my forward progress, but not my mental progress. I was going to finish no matter how difficult it was! The French people deserve to have their cheering efforts rewarded with me not giving up. After all, that IS their only request… persevere!

 

When I finally reached the penultimate control in Dreux, the rains had stopped. Further, the skies looking toward Paris were much lighter than they had been in 3 days. It didn't rain any more. I was now flying! No rain!!! I did miss a turn somewhere and added a bonus 10 km to my ride, but it didn't matter. I could smell the barn and I was passing riders like they were standing still.

 

I pulled into the final control at 12:50 am on Friday morning, some 67:50 after I started on Tuesday morning. I didn't attain my speed goal, but I had probably the most satisfying ride of my life. It was easily the most difficult. My name will again be placed in the “Great Book” as having successfully completed the 16th edition of Paris-Brest-Paris. I really have the French people to thank for this one. Had it not been for their unrelenting passion to keep me going, I probably would have succumb to my weaknesses. This is why there is nothing else like PBP in the world and why I can't wait to go back in 2011.

 

Thanks for reading!

-Mike

PBP Ancien ’03, ’07, …