Paris-Brest-Paris 2015: My Ride

There are three start time groupings for Paris-Brest-Paris: 80 hours (the fast riders), 84 hours (the pretty fast riders), 90 hours (the rest of us).  Most riders choose a 90 hour start time.

The 80 hour riders departed at 5:00 p.m. Sunday.  15 minutes later were the tandems and misc., which probably included recumbents and elipcycles. 

After that came the 90 hour riders.  Beginning at 5:30 p.m., and for every 15 minute thereafter, through 8:00 p.m., a corral of ~300 riders was sent out.  I was in the 7:30 p.m. corral.  I definitely got a feel for what it must be like to be in the stock yards (although the slaughter part, however unpleasant, was a bit more metaphoric).

Three or four kilometers after we had started the entire corral was in front of me (though generally someone remained in view).  At about 8:20 p.m. one of the official motorcyclists came along side me and slowed to talk.  He said something about the next group arriving soon but was rather vague.  I ventured a guess: should I turn on my lights? He said ‘no’ - he just wanted me to know that they were fast (as opposed, I assumed, to MY speed).  This ticked me off a bit; I was happy when he continued on his way.  Sheezes, I paid just as much for this event as they did.  Besides, they should be good enough riders to be able to pass me safely (which of course turned out to be the case).

The first control, Mortagne, is at 140 km.  On the way out, however, it is only an optional food stop.  I stopped but didn’t go inside.  I filled my water bottles, ate a bar, and continued.

Riding on the first night (i.e. this is looking fresh!)

I arrived at Villaines (220 km), the first real control, at 7:13 a.m. Monday, with nearly three hours in the bank!  In general I was to find the lines at the controls nonexistent.

I pushed on to the next control.  There were always other riders around.  Monday was sunny and warm.

I arrived at Fougères (309 km) at 1:47 p.m., 2:17 in the bank.

The afternoon I had several naps by the side of the road.  These generally lasted somewhere between 5 and 9 minutes.  I only took them when I was becoming drowsy to the point of losing efficiency.

I arrived at Tinténiac (363 km) at 6:11 p.m., 1:45 in the bank.  

In the early evening the first of the 84 hour start riders overtook me (incl. two very large and very fast pace lines).  They had started at 5:00 a.m. and hadn’t taken long to catch me.

I arrived at Quedillac (389 km), an optional food/sleep stop and decided to sleep.  I asked to be awaken in an hour but awoke after 45 minutes and was on the road again.

This stretch was tough going: hilly, dark, no fog line, occasionally iffy pavement, hard to distinguish where the edge of the pavement was.  My morale slipped at this time and I pondered quitting (though did not have any particular good excuse).

Now the very fast riders started showing up, on their way back.  This is a mixed morale boost, but did help to keep me awake.

I arrived at Loudéac (448 km) at 2:12 a.m., 0:12 in the hole.  Sleeping at Quedillac, and slowing in the darkness, had eaten up my time reserve.  I ate quickly and pushed on.  Heading out of town I noticed a train station (and made a mental note!).

There was a secret control at St. Nicolas which I hit at 6:48 a.m. Tuesday.  By now there was light in the sky.  The long night of riding was behind me and I started feeling better about my endeavor.

When morning comes to Morgantown

I arrived at Carhaix (526 km) at 8:50 a.m., 0:47 in the hole.  I ate quickly and pushed on.  This was the final segment to Brest but it required going over le Roc Trevezel (563 km), the most conspicuous climb on PBP.

Approaching Le Roc, there was a steady stream of riders heading back to Paris.  It was inspiring to see them (though I tried to keep my eye on the pavement in front of me).  On my descent from Le Roc (elev. 332 m) I spotted the tandem of Toshio and Makiyo Goto.  I called out and I *think* Makiyo heard me.  This was another morale boost.

As the route nears Brest, there is a slight loop, so eventually one no longer sees the riders headed back to Paris.  Finally we crossed the Pont Albert Louppe (608 km).  I stopped to take a photo and chatted a bit with a woman rider from Scandinavia.  It is always a profound moment to cross this bridge.

Once across the bridge, there’s some congested riding, on busy city streets, though also some escape from it via bike lanes.  Eventually I was at the control, Brest, (614 km), at 2:40 p.m., 0:13 in the bank!  I had covered half of PBP, in 43H10.

Toshio and Makiyo Goto

 The cafeteria had a line.  I needed to eat and wasn’t sure if I’d pass any opportunities on the way back to Carhaix.  It was frustrating to wait but the line moved fairly quickly and the volunteers loaded my tray with food.  I saw Mark Roberts and chatted a bit.  At the table where I sat to eat I saw Fatima (from the Seattle Randonneurs).  She was struggling with her morale.  I encouraged her to push on.  She was still there when I left.

I was diligent on the ride back to Carhaix (which includes going over Le Roc for the second time).  I only stopped three times on this stretch: once for my only ditch nap of the day, once to tweak something on the bike, and once to simply sit on a bench, to eat an apple (from the lunch at the Brest control) and take a break.

After closing the loop, I was surprised by how many riders were still heading OUT to Brest.  Perhaps all (or most) were 84 hour riders, meaning they didn’t need to reach Brest until 11:30 p.m., so they were fine.  If, on the other hand, they were 90 hour riders, probably most would be DNFing soon.

I arrived at Carhaix (698 km) at 9:30 p.m., 0:21 in the hole.  I was a bit surprised (and disappointed) to be in the hole because I’d ridden prudently and there is 15% more time allowed on the return.

This control was completely out of food.  I decided that would be a time saver!  My big meal at Brest would probably serve me well.  I mixed a bottle of Perpetuem and Hammer Gel.  Then I went to the sleep area and asked to be awakened in an hour and 15 minutes.

It was a major shock to be awakened a bit after 11:00 p.m.  It took a great deal of focus to get on my bike and back out onto the road.  Although this was my third night of riding, the darkness seemed somehow darker than I recalled it.  Perhaps this was because by now I was very near the back of all riders.  Occasionally a rider would pass me but, in general, this was a new and particularly lonely experience.

It was literally painful to be out on the road at that hour.  I was aware that I was moving very, very slowly.  My legs felt very beat up.  Loudéac seemed an insurmountable distance away (78 km).  Now all I could think of was to somehow make it to St. Nicolas, the optional food/sleep stop.  I was not having trouble staying awake but knew that my very slow pace was caused by extreme mental fatigue.

At 10 minutes after midnight I came upon a secret control.  I was happy for the brief interlude, but then it was back on the road and more creeping toward St. Nicolas.

At around 2:15 a.m. I arrived at the optional food/sleep stop at St. Nicolas.  The 36 km had taken me nearly three hours (with my only stop being the secret control).  Here again they were out of food.  I found the dormitory.  When they asked when they should wake me, I told them I was going to abandon the ride, so they did not have to wake me.

It was a bit cold on the cot in the large sleeping room.  I was only given a somewhat heavy sheet to use to cover myself.  I discovered empty beds around.  From the one next to me I took a sheet.  Adding that sheet to my original sheet made me warm enough.  I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke a bit before 6:00 a.m.  There was light in the sky.  I was restless, so off I went.

My legs felt surprisingly sore and beaten up.  I rode in a more relaxed fashion, savoring the experience. 

Descending into Corlay (745 km) I had my one amusing mechanical experience.  The downhill to the stop sign, at a busy highway, was the end of the line for my rear brake cable.  When it snapped it became obvious that I could NOT stop in time for the stop sign.  Fortunately there was a gravel area off to the right, where I found enough distance to bring the bike to a stop with only one brake.  I replaced the cable and continued.

In the heart of Corlay I spotted a Boulanger Pattisier with a small park in front.  It was time for several pastries and a beverage.  I could not have been this relaxed if still on the ride.  Pushing myself that hard was a level of effort which was now behind me.

Then I continued, covering the 35 km to Loudéac without additional incident.  When I got to the control, all of the volunteers were busy packing up.  It was 10 a.m. and I was nearly six hours in the hole!  I intended to announce to the control staffers that I was abandoning.  Then I’d surrender my car (which would eventually be returned to me, by mail).  Alas, the data sensor and the card stampers were long gone.  There was no one to give my card to.

I retraced my route slightly to get back to the Loudéac train station.  The somewhat run down looking building appeared as if it might not be open.  How wrong I was!  When I opened the front door … the place was full of cyclists, busily packing their bikes into boxes!  I joined in.