My 2007 PBP (Paris-Brest-Paris) Cycling Adventure By T.W. Original to Aquarticles
Singing in the rain, just singing in the rain...
In 2006 I moved from Vancouver, Canada to the west coast of Denmark. I've always enjoyed cycling, and since Denmark is something of a cylist's paradise (flat, lots of cycle paths), I decided to bring a new racing bike with me. The next step was pretty logical - I needed to find a race of some sort. A quick check on the internet led me to the Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) long distance cycle "event". I hesitate to use the word "race" to describe the PBP; although it may once have been a truly competitive race, it has evolved to become a long distance (1230 km) cycling time-trial. Participants may opt to sign up for a fast group (80 hours), medium fast group (84 hours) or regular group (90 hours). If one does not finish within their chosen time category, they are registered as having not completed the event. Each time limit is inclusive of all breaks for sleep and meals. Once the PBP starts, the clock is ticking…
A map of the Paris - Brest - Paris route
A quick overview of the PBP shows it began in the late 1800's, was an organized race by 1902, and emerged in its present form in 1931 (see PBP History). The route traverses Normandy and Brittany and has a total elevation gain of over 30,000 feet (approaching Mt. Everest). The PBP pre-dated and served as a prototype of sorts for the Tour de France. The PBP is only held every 4 years, attracts participants from around the globe (5300 participants from 42 countries this year), and is considered the ultimate in serious amateur long distance cycling or "randonneuring" (as the French call it). This all made me eager to give it a go. But then I read the fine print…Each participant has to first cycle a 200, 300, 400, and 600 km series of timed and certified "races" (called brevets) in order to qualify. Hmm, as a 41 year old who has never been in a cycle race in my life, would I be up to the challenge? How would I go about training for such an event? Lucky for me Danes are strong contenders in the PBP. For the last several events, Denmark has sent a larger contingent of cyclists in proportion to its population than any country aside from France. Whereas most countries have a DNF (do not finish) rate of around 20%, Denmark has usually been closer to 10%. Obviously these guys must know something...or perhaps it is just that their windy and rainy climate prepares them for cycling in adverse conditions?
Cycle Training in Denmark I found cycle-training in Denmark a fantastic experience. From my vantage point on the sparsely populated west coast I developed a 60 km cycle route that held fantastic views including pastoral landscape, windswept fjords, concrete Nazi bunkers from the Second World War, and quaint medieval villages.
Straightaway near Bremdal, DK Ocean-side farm - Nissum, DK
Church overlooking Lemvig, DK Nazi bunkers overlooking Limnifjord, DK
Two views of Lemvig, DK
Poor badger - evidence of road kill I sometimes encountered
I began training in earnest in February 2007 and tried to put in about 200 to 250 km of cycling a week. I did okay in my brevet series, but was concerned about cloudy vision I sometimes experienced. Thankfully this problem went away as I increased my training pace and learned to eat more while riding. My Danish cycle club members taught me about single and double pace lines, drafting, riding in large groups, proper nutrition, and training routines. One funny tip from them was to use an anti-chaffing creme in my cycle shorts used by farmers to moisturize the teats of cows when milking. I suppose if it is good enough for the cow's tender bits it is good enough for mine. Some valuable internet resources were the BC Randonneurs and Randonneurs USA websites. Finally, I learned from my own stupid mistakes. Like never reach for a water bottle when taking a corner on a single file path with limited visability - especially when behind another rider at high speed. I ended up cartwheeling into some bushes for that one, lucky to escape serious injury. If you are training for the PBP and wish to read a somewhat detailed recount of my qualifying brevets, check out the following link: PBP 2007 - Riding the Qualifying Brevets
A Quick Trip to France Besides cycle training in Denmark, I had a bit of extra fun cycling in the south of France. Visiting with family near Aix-en Provence, I got to cycle train daily in the Luberon valley, scaling hilltop villages, passing over minor cols, and even cycling up Mt. Ventoux, the "Jerusalem" of every serious cyclist (or so someone told me - I'd never heard of the place two weeks prior to being there). Feeling proud of myself for doing the 1909 meter climb, I later learned that the "real" cyclists do the climb three times in one day, starting from a different village at the valley floor each time. Wow. That must be hard!
Freezing cold atop Mt.Ventoux Me and my dad, village of Gord, Provence
Just below the summit of
Mt. Ventoux is the rather bizarre monument/shrine
Cycling the 2007 PBP When it finally came time for the PBP, I felt prepared. I had cycled about 6,000 kilometers in the seven previous months; now I only had to figure out logistics. The Danes really helped me out here, offering a chartered bus, prepared meals, booked hotels, transport for bikes, bag drops during the race, and tents set up in Loudeac for us to use on our outward and return journeys. All this was provided for the equivalent of about $500 Canadian, a very reasonable sum I think. I can not thank the organizer's of the Nord Jutland ARD enough. Special thanks go to Ib Bove and Lasse Olesen.
The Danes setting up their bikes on arrival Registration day before the big race
Can you spot the Canadian?
A list of the nationalities participating in the 2007 PBP
Festivities a few hours before the event
Race begins soon... Final countdown...
Notice the line of cyclists snaking off into the distance
My strategy for cycling the PBP was to go easy on myself the first day, cycle a bit harder the second, and then go all out on the third. Hoping my knees and eyes would be up to the challenge, I set out at 9:50 pm surrounded by many hundreds of riders. It wasn't long before it started raining. Unfortunately this was to be a theme of the event - rain. When I eventually made it to Loudeac at 10:00 pm the next evening, it was again raining. And when I woke up the next morning at 5:00 am it was drizzling. And it rained late in the afternoon of my second day of cycling. And it rained when I arrived back in Loudeac at 2:00 am the next evening. And it rained the next morning and late afternoon too. The tent I slept in was wet with condensation, the clothes I had were almost always wet, and of course I was wet. I especially regret sleeping in a Gortex-down sleeping bag rated to minus 30 Celsius. I awoke soaking with sweat and then had to put on my wet cycle clothes and go cycle in the rain. Yuck! One funny story I heard from the Danes concerned some wet French cyclists who went into a laundromat in Loudeac, stripped naked, threw their clothes in the dryer, and then just walked around nonchalantly. I guess the PBP can be a clothing-optional event.
Our main tent in Loudeac became a mud-hole
Tents set up by the Danes Futile attempt to dry cycle gear
There were a few unforgettable moments for me in the PBP. First off, I nearly wiped out bad at 38 kmh when some loose clothing slid off my rear bike rack into my spokes. I experienced full rear wheel lock and a semi-uncontrolled skid for many meters; got out of that jam with only a bit of road-rash and my bike still okay. Thanks to Bob the Englishman for helping me out. Then there was the kindness of all the French people lining the roads and working as volunteers in the event. The boost in morale provided by the hundreds and even thousands of spectators, some offering food and drinks, helped me a lot. Other sites were rather bizarre, like the Australian woman who during a long climb up a massive hill was engaged in business negotiations using a hands-free cell phone jacked into her ear! Talk about being dedicated to your job. The guy using a rowing machine bike, the double-reversed recumbent bike, the fully covered recumbent bikes that resembled cars - all were rather strange…especially when you encountered them while sleep deprived, late at night, on some dark road or dimly lit medieval village.
One of many fully covered recumbant bicycles that resemble cars
A double reversed recumbant bicycle
A road side ode to suffering can hold special meaning
My three Danish cycling partners on Day 2 (Jan, Svend, and Hans)
Half-way there (Brest)
The view on entering Brest Jan in Brest
For my third and final day of cycling I decided to go it alone. Well, as alone as you can be when surrounded by thousands of cyclists and spectators. I ended up making very good time that day, and cycled on into the night feeling ever stronger. Even the weather cooperated, sparing us any further rain. Having left Loudeac at 6:40 am on Thursday, I finally made it to St. Quentin (Paris) at 5:01 am on Friday. I had finished my first PBP in just over 79 hours. Having had a total of 10 hours sleep in the past three days, I collapsed in a dark dormitory provided by the event organizers. Sleep came fitfully as I lay with very sore knees on bare carpets. My knees would remain sore for the next few days, my toes numb for the next few weeks.
The support crew - these guys prepared our
meals
A glass of champagne to celebrate
Packing up: John Anderson on right - fast
guy who tauht me a lot!
In the exhausted debrief that followed the PBP I heard many stories of victory or defeat. I heard of an old Frenchman with a water bottle taped to the back of his neck to keep his head up, crossing the finish line while refusing the offered help of his fellow riders; of another old French finisher (ancien they call them), with a Coke can wedged under his chin, also to keep his head up. I remember chatting with a disappointed Canadian who had wanted an hour of sleep in Loudeac on the return journey, but who woke up 6 hours later and was disqualified. I marvelled at the Canadian who literally woke up in a ditch while cycling, having no recollection of his crash. He and his bike were okay, so he continued on. Perhaps the most touching story involved one of the Danes I'd come to France with. In the last PBP he had emerged so tired from one control point late at night that he mistakenly cycled 80 km in the wrong direction. When he realized his mistake, it was too late for him to make it to the proper control in time and so he was disqualified. This man returned to the 2007 PBP with his two sons, both of whom are in their 20's. This time he and his boys all succeeded. He looked very proud. Such anecdotes of perseverance and triumph over adversity epitomize the story of my first PBP.
See you guys in four years? |
