A few weeks ago we showed you a cool event, RAGBRAI, a non-competitive bicycle ride spanning across Iowa. We were tipped off to another event - the mother of all Brevets (an organized, non-competitive long distance bike ride), the Paris-Brest-Paris Randonneur. So important is this event that all other long brevets sit out the year the the P.B.P. takes place. This year's P.B.P. Randonneur rode from 20-24 August, giving the riders 90 hours to complete the 1200 km course.
Steeped in tradition, the P.B.P. Randonneur began in 1891 and hits the road every 4 years. While it is not a competitive race in the traditional sense, there are awards at the end ride. There are also rules that riders must follow. These rules boil down to respect for fellow riders, officials and the towns visited along the way.
Searching through the TrailNetwork, I found just 2 users riding the P.B.P. this year. User tomknoblauch was kind enough to write in and alert us of his activities. While he did miss a couple turns and took some streets that were not on the official course, he was able to upload over 430 miles of the 760 mile route. Here's the ride:
User nbull offered this account after I contacted him for permission to use his activities. His story is remarkable, as he fell ill a week before he boarded the plane for France. Here's his story:
I caught a cold a week before going to France, and unfortunately it just got steadily worse. Nonetheless, after standing in the rain for nearly three hours in the stadium, I started in the sixth wave, at 11:15 pm. Apparently, this has been the wettest, coldest summer they've had since 1952. As it turned out, for the next 36 hours we had almost-continuous misty light drizzle, broken up by downpours. Temps in the low 50s at night, low 60s in the day. Nonetheless, there were people in every village, standing out in the rain for hours to cheer us on. Very inspiring.
About 28 hours into the ride, between Loudeac and Carhaix, we started seeing the fast riders coming back at around 3 am. These are people who will finish the whole 750 miles in around 45 to 50 hours, instead of the 90 that I expected to take. It was truly awe-inspiring to hear the swoosh of their tires and then see their extremely bright lights coming out of the mist and rain and then they're past in an instant - first the leaders by ones and twos, then big pacelines of these people making what seems like a superhuman effort. Later that night, during one of the few breaks in the weather, a friend and I lay down in our space blankets just before dawn of the second day and got a half hour sleep on a village green, to the amusement of the villagers.
Somewhere around the 300 mile point, I had stopped and was twisting to look back at my friend when I was overcome by a coughing fit and tore something in one of my ribs. I told my friend I was going to quit at Carhaix. He encouraged me to wait until later to decide. After a few miles, I decided I had to find out how bad it was going to be, so I rode at maximum effort for 15 miles. It actually felt better on the bike than off.
Coming out of Carhaix, the sun came out and we hit steady headwinds of about 18 mph, gusting to 25. Even coming down big descents, we still had to pedal. Coming into Brest (the halfway point) was really beautiful. Lots of hardy Bretagnards on the beach. The route turned north for a few more miles into the wind, and by the time we finally turned east it was dusk and the wind died down - so no tailwind. As we moved east back toward Carhaix, after crossing the Brittany "Alps" (only 1200 feet high), we returned to the constant mist/drizzle/occasional downpour weather system. I had hoped to get a 1-1/2 hour sleep at Loudeac, but was too far behind to stop for more than half an hour. It wasn't until the 650-mile point at Mortagne au Perche that we got a 1-1/2 hour sleep, but that meant that we now had to make up 2 hours over the final 100 miles. I was still optimistic that I could do this, even though we hit some serious climbing. But on the descent, I found that I couldn't stay awake, and had to stop to sleep on a park bench. At least the rain had stopped.
Over the next few hours, I found I could only ride about 45 minutes before having to stop and sleep for quarter of an hour. I wasn't falling further behind, but the temperature had dropped and my lungs were hurting. I did some calculations on the pace I'd have to ride to finish on time, and it was a manageable pace under ordinary circumstances, 13 mph with no stopping. But after 10 miles at that pace, when I arrived at Dreux I could barely stand up, and it was clear that I was not going to be able to make the 90 hour cutoff at Paris. Given the danger of riding on steadily-busier roads in my sleep-deprived state, and the increased frequency of coughing fits, I decided that the symbolic death of quitting at Dreux was better than an actual death. So I came up 42 miles short, dang it. Nonetheless, it was tremendous fun to ride hard in a hard event with people from all over the world, some of whom even spoke English, through lovely French countryside and quaint villages, cheered on by people standing out in the rain at all hours of the day. Three weeks later, my rib is still sore, but a second round of antibiotics seems to be kicking the pneumonia.
We hope to see more PBP entries in the TrailNetwork in 4 years!