“A person is only as great as the challenges he chooses to accept”
Weather Woes Wallop PBP
Report from RBR correspondent Les Woodland in France . . . .
“The weather is simple,” said Europe-1, one of France’s most authoritative radio stations. “If it’s not already raining where you are then it soon will be.”
That was 8 a.m. on Tuesday — late news for the 5,000+ randonneurs who’d set off hours earlier on the longest ride of their season. Among that number were 600 Americans. Rain was already torrenting down as they left the western suburbs of Paris, and that was how it stayed for the rest of the night.
This year’s Paris-Brest-Paris quickly turned into 1,200 km (745 miles) of misery for riders who had already ridden qualifying events of 200, 300, 400 and 600 km just to be there.
“I watched them leave and you could see that even though the excitement made them cheer and wave, there was a look of real concern on many of their faces,” said Jean-Louis Tachlon, who’d crossed the country from Lyons to support his clubmates. “For some there will be a real risk of hypothermia.”
PBP, held every four years, has been lashed by rain and buffeted by cold northerly crosswinds in one of the worst summers Europe has known.
Forecasters said the rain was due to end only when the last riders were back to Paris after 90 hours. Northerly winds on a route that runs east-west are almost as difficult as headwinds. Temperatures have been consistently in the 50-60F (10-16C) range. More than the usual number of retirements is expected when the final accounting is done.
The irony is that in the previous PBP, France was hit not by winter-in-summer but a heat wave that killed 15,000 citizen. Then the heat vanished with just days to go. Many will be wishing the rain had done the same this year.
PBP Ride Report – 2007
The raw stats:
Distance Traveled: 567 miles (915 km),
Time on bike: 45 hours 13 minutes (67 hours elapsed)
Average Speed: 12.5 mph,
Elevation Gain: 19900 ft
Total “Sleep”: 3 hours
DNF due to nausea and vomiting at Fougeres
It’s difficult to capture an experience like this in words. This was the culmination of a year of preparation and training which consumed many hours of training and family life. It would not have been possible without the unwavering support of Susan and the kids.
Team McKee (Starbucks fueled of course)
Start -32 hours: The bike check
The Paris suburb of St. Quentin-en-Yvelines had transformed itself into bike central for the 5000+ randonneurs who had descended on it from all around the world. Billboards everywhere displayed ads for PBP, due to have the first wave leave at 8pm on Monday night.
Sunday 19th, was the bike check day when all bikes where to be inspected for structural soundness, adequate lighting systems and reflective wear prior to the event ahead. With a taster of things to come the skies opened up early in the afternoon and the authorities opted to cancel the outdoor bike inspection and allowed people to go straight into the main hall to collect their documentation packets, electronic swipe cards and brevet card.
The club I’ve been riding with all year had a group photo shoot arranged for noon and it was a good chance to see everyone who had made it over.
Armed with all my new paperwork we returned to the hotel through a number of downpours, Susan walking with the kids and me on my bike.
Bike prepped and ready to go prior to the bike check (last blue sky for quite a while)
The Irish Contingent at PBP (Paul O’Donoghue in the Audax Ireland Jersey)
SIR (Seattle International Randonneurs) at PBP (60 people)
Hour 0 (0km) : St. Quentin-En-Yvelines (8/20 – 10.50pm)
We all napped for 2 hours in the afternoon prior to the start to try to alleviate somewhat the affect of the late hour. Then it was into the buggy for the kids and on to the bike for me to make it to down town St. Quentin to head up to the start. I rode ahead to scout bus times and had one of the many encounters with French people keen to help that marked the whole event.
The bus that Susan had to get was down a different road than the direct way to the start. A passing car saw me on my bike looking at the bus timetable and pulled in to check that I wasn’t lost and knew how to get to the stadium.
I saw Susan and the kids get on the bus and then rode in to meet them in the town center so we could all head up to the stadium for the start. There was quite a buzz in the center as a steady stream of cyclists rode up to the start. Once we had regrouped we all headed up to the stadium, my pockets now full of hugs and kisses from Caitlin to help me in the ride ahead. She had initiated filling my pockets and Ashley had then followed her lead.
Walking up to the start
Arrived at the stadium and joined the first of many lines in the days ahead. Great buzz as people waited for their wave to go off. The large bulk start for the 90hour time limit, scheduled for 9.30pm, was being sent off in waves of 500-600 people. My eventual start was at 10.50pm, the second to last wave. This meant inching around the inside of the stadium in pouring rain for a couple hours as every 20 minutes a loud firework would go off and cheers would send the next wave into the night. My raingear was doing its job well and the rain didn’t really bother me. The couple of people in only a jersey and shorts and no helmet were not so content!
Waiting to start
Finally at 10.50 pm my PBP began!
Hour 6 (140km): Mortagne-au-Perche (8/21 – 5.50am)
Riding through the first night in torrential rain was quite the experience. The support for this event in France is incredible and even in these conditions you’d have supporters out in each small town we rode through cheering us on and directing us to the next turn to take.
You’d be in the middle of nowhere and then a little town would appear and as you rode into it you’d see a road side stand set up with a smiling family doling out coffee, hot chocolate and pastries to sodden cyclists.
The mass of cyclists quickly strung out and while I was always riding within sight of people it didn’t seem too crowded.
This first stop at 140km was a food stop only on the outbound leg. I did a pretty fast turnaround, getting some hot food into me and then back out into the night (and rain).
Hour 12 (222km): Villaines-La-Juhel (8/21 – 10.35am)
Daylight and a break in the relentless rain meant that I got a chance to enjoy some of the French countryside and the rolling hills. This ride had been characterized as “rolling hills” by various randonneurs who had done it before. You were pretty much always going either up or down and the hills were steeper than I would characterize as “rolling”. I was working on the uphills and I like hills! There was pretty much a consistent wind to be dealing with as well for the entire ride west to Brest which slowed my pace as well.
This stretch went quickly enough all the same and I was feeling good. No problems with the legs, seat or shoulders and the bike was feeling great.
Rolling hills of French countryside
Daylight on the first day and some rain relief
The control had a big festival atmosphere with banners and exhibitions. I got some more hot food into me and headed out again. I’d run into a couple members of the club during this portion of the ride and rode briefly with them but our paces were slightly different so had parted company pretty quickly. It was still good to see some familiar faces on the road. One of the advantages of being with a club that is well represented at this event is that you keep running into people you know along the way. Even a brief chat can alleviate some of the monotony and help the miles pass faster.
Hour 18 (310km) : Fougeres (8/21 – 16.48 pm)
My recollections of this stretch are simply of many hills! I did stop for a pizza in one of the small towns along the way but it wasn’t particularly good. I was tasting it for many hours on (and was glad when I got some other food into me to kill the taste).
Family run roadside stop
Hour 22 (364.5 km) : Tinteniac (8/21 – 20.43pm)
Rode with (or rather behind) Ralph and Carol on their tandem for most of this stretch. It was good to have some company to chat with and this leg went pretty fast. I was happy to go at their pace up the hills and take it easy and then bomb downhill after them. Tandems go pretty fast on the flats and downhill!
We stopped at a hot food stand about half an hour from Tinteniac and I had a nice portion of piping hot chips.
Hour 28 (449.5 km) : Loudeac (8/22 – 2.40 am)
I rode mainly by myself for this stretch, focusing on keeping myself fueled and keeping moving. One presiding image is of stopping at a small church in the center of a town in the middle of the night to eat a pastry. Gazing around in the still night air and seeing various silvery shapes scattered around the bushes of people wrapped up in bivy sacks and space blankets getting some sleep.
Typical sight along the road – Even the pavement can seem comfortable after a night and day in the saddle
About 40km from Loudeac the leading riders in the fastest group appeared riding in the other direction. They’d started at 8pm on the Monday night and were already well into their journey back to Paris (about 400km ahead of me!)
I finally arrived in Loudeac for my first planned sleep stop. I grabbed a hot shower and changed into some fresh shorts and jersey from my drop bag and then went in search of somewhere to sleep. I managed to get a cot in the hall set aside for sleeping riders. You give your desired wakeup time to the people outside the hall and then get escorted into a hall full of people in small cots sleeping side by side under thin blankets. I felt I could only afford a couple hours sleep in order to have time to make the next control so asked to be woken in 2 hours. My head hit the bed and I was out like a light. Unfortunately they messed up and I was woken from my deep sleep just half an hour later. I corrected their mistake and tried to get back to sleep but it took a while this time. Eventually I nodded off and was roused at 5.30 am to hit the road again. Despite the break in sleep and less than ideal conditions I was feeling somewhat refreshed and got some hot food into me and remounted my bike.
Hour 36 (525.5 km) : Carhaix-Plougher (8/22 – 10.20am)
This was the start of the push to Brest (the half way point of the ride). I met up with some other SIR riders along this stretch and rode with Shane for a while. I was wearing my Irish jersey for this stretch and it was met with a lot of comments on the road with various people wanting to swap jerseys. I had to explain that I’d gone through a fair bit to get this myself and was planning on keeping it as my link with the Irish Audax group.
I chatted with one guy who knew Paul (from Ireland) at the control. He was on his way back from Brest and was saying that it was relentless hills for the next stretch.
SIR on the road
Typical town center
Hour 41 (614.5km) : Brest (22/08 – 16.00 pm)
This was the longest stretch of extended climbing of the ride. There was a lot of climbing into headwinds for much of the way to Brest. The weather had picked up though and we finally got to see some sun and blue sky.
I rode with Shane for most of this stretch and we stopped to take photos at the top of the main climbs. It was fun to see riders coming back from Brest in the other direction as we rode along. There was a descent into Brest itself and great views of the main bridge there. Everyone was stopping to capture the views and savoring the halfway point.
Top of the main hill into Brest
Arrival at Brest
I arrived at the control and went into my familiar routine, get my card stamped and record my arrival electronically, get some hot food into me and then get ready to head off again.
This time I copied Shane who was having a 15 minute powernap in the sun before starting back. I took 2 caffeine pills and lay down for my nap. I didn’t sleep but the rest helped a bit and gave my brain a chance to shut down. Even these short little breaks seem to help.
Hour 48 (699 km) : Carhaix-Plougher (22/08 – 22.30 pm)
Finally a tailwind! I started up the hills out of Brest and rather than slogging on the pedals I shifted to a higher gear and spun faster up the hills. My legs felt great and I took off from Shane.
This was what is characterized as a “no-pedal” day i.e. you don’t feel as if you’re working on the bike at all. I must have overtaken about 60 other people going up one long hill and just kept going. Eventually I stopped at a small town and waited for Shane to catch up as I bought some more food in supermarket for the night ahead.
There was one nervous moment as we went down the longest downhill stretch. I was going the fastest I’d gone so far on the ride and as the hill leveled off at the bottom my bike started vibrating and shaking under me. I thought I’d blown a tire and squeezed the brakes to slow down. The vibration just got worse but eventually I stopped safely. I inspected the bike but couldn’t find anything wrong so cautiously took off again.
In hindsight I wonder now if it was the bike vibrating or me as later in the ride I started getting significant shakes in my arms when I was off the bike. Anyway soldiered on still feeling pretty good and eventually caught up with Shane who had stopped to see what had happened to me.
Night fell once more and we rode on to the Carhaix control. Once we got there I was still feeling good and keen to get back to Loudeac for my next planned rest stop so had a quick stop and headed on by myself.
Hour 53 (775 km): Loudeac (23/08 – 3.46 am)
This was an epic stretch. One of the most memorable bits of night riding I’ve done. I’d taken another couple caffeine pills before heading off and fueled partially by these rode into a misty night by myself.
One indication that my brain might not have been firing on all cylinders any longer was that about 10 minutes out of Carhaix I realized I didn’t have my glasses on and must have left them behind. I stopped and searched all my pockets to no avail. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around and head back to see if they were at the control so decided to press on without them. About 20 minutes later as I was cursing the wind and rain hitting my eyes I realized that actually they weren’t feeling that bad after all. I then realized I actually was wearing my glasses after all. Hummmm.
I spun fast uphill for an hour before the skies opened up and a deluge came down.
I retreated under a gas station overhang with about 30 other riders and put on the rest of my rain gear again. Various riders had decided to wait it out and were already in their bivvy sacks on the ground but I decided to press on for Loudeac. I rode by myself in torrential rain through very dark countryside up many steep hills for many hours. This is what rides are made of.
Finally arrived back at Loudeac and after a quick shower and change of clothes got a space on a cot and asked for a wake up in an hour.
From this point on things go pear shaped ….
In a ride of two parts up to now would be the good part.
Hour 61 (860 km): Tinteniac (23/08 – 12.39pm)
I was roused from my light slumber at Loudeac after an hour to realize that I’d been shaking uncontrollably for most of the hour. Every minute or so my whole body would be raked by uncontrollable shaking. This was not good.
Realizing I was probably in early hypothermia I went in search of hot fluids to rise my core temperature. One of the attendants at the sleep station gave me a vigorous rub to help get me on my way. I got some hot fluid and mashed potatoes into me and felt marginally better but exhausted. I reckoned things wouldn’t get any better just hanging around so got back in to my rain gear and headed out to my bike.
Leaving Loudeac
I headed off as the skies started to brighten and struggled along the rain swept roads. I was finding it really hard to stay awake on the bike now and stopped at a café in a town to get a café au lait, get in out of the cold and put my head down for a power nap. I think I took some more caffeine tablets here as well to try to rouse myself.
Headed back out into the rain and heeding the advice of always just trying to make it to the next control because things can always start feeling better, carried on. I saw an SIR rider up ahead and realized that it was Eric, a rider I’d recently ridden with about 3 weeks ago on a warm-up brevet back in Seattle. I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating him as I’d been sure he’d said he wasn’t going to be coming to PBP this year. Talked with him a little and after a couple minutes of slurred speech decided he was probably real.
We rolled into a secret control together and he encouraged me to try to get a bit more rest here before continuing on as I had a bit of time in the bank. I lay down on some cardboard they had set up inside the control and rested for a little but the control officials roused everyone after about 20 minutes and urged us all back onto the road.
Now to compound problems my neck muscles gave out as they had been used to failure and I developed what is known as Shermer’s neck. This is a unique problem to long distance cycling and in essence means it’s extremely difficult to lift your head anymore and look down the road at where you’re going. Once it occurs the only way to deal with it during a ride is basically to put on a neck brace and suck it up. I struggled on and made it to the control.
Realizing a chronic need for rest I got into my bivvy sack on a bench and tried to rest. Unfortunately the time pressure meant I didn’t feel I could rest too long and so I got up and headed up to get more food. I sat in the cafeteria surrounded by other sleep deprived riders trying to eat some food with severely shaking hands as a couple of volunteers looked over at me from down the table.
A familiar sight at each control with sleep deprived riders trying to get some rest.
Paris wasn’t getting any closer so I downed some more caffeine pills with a coke and headed back out to get on my bike.
Hour 67 (915 km): Fougeres (23/08 – 17.18 pm)
Pretty quickly into this leg I decided to take my helmet off in order to give my neck as little weight as possible to lift. I was standing a lot and sitting upright in order to look ahead without straining my neck.
My stomach was starting to feel pretty bad now and I was getting quite nauseous. I wasn’t able to drink much anymore and was finding it hard to force any food down. I tried taking some electrolyte tablets but couldn’t keep them down.
I finally arrived at Fougeres in the late afternoon and got my card stamped at the control. I then headed over to the bushes and threw up and, once I had recovered somewhat, went into the medical building. I got some anti nausea tablets from them and a massage for my neck and then headed into the control building to try to rest a bit more and see if I could continue to the next control.
I curled up in my bivy sack in a corner and tried to rest. Unfortunately things did not improve. A control worker found me behind a billboard as they were starting to close the control and thought I should go back to the medical hut. She assisted me over and the doctors had another look over me. They advised that my ride was over. I was in agreement.
It was bitterly disappointing lying their on the medical bed knowing that I hadn’t completed my objective. My only consolation was that I felt I had truly gone as far as I could go and pushed my body to its limit.
Ironically my pace on the bike was pretty consistent throughout the whole ride and at no time were my legs, seat or shoulders sore. My body was physically conditioned enough to ride this kind of distance but not it would seem able to endure the effects of extreme sleep deprivation, hypothermia and nausea.
The typical DNF rate for this event is 10-15%. This year saw the worst conditions it had been run under and a DNF rate of at least 30% (the final numbers are yet to come out).
Aftermath – The return to Paris
The lady who had assisted me at the control helped me place some calls to Susan from the medical hut as I didn’t want her worrying when I didn’t show up online at the next control. Unfortunately none of these messages reached her until the next day so she had an unpleasant night wondering just what had become of me.
The control worker then arranged a taxi and hotel for me in a nearby town, along with some other people who had also abandoned at Fougeres. The doctors said I could travel and clutching a black garbage bag in case I needed to be sick again I got in the taxi. The hotel was charming but I wasn’t in any condition to really enjoy it. I crawled into bed once I got there and spent a very jittery night lying on the bed trying to rest while fighting nausea and the shaking of my highly caffeinated body.
The train left early the next morning and several changes and hours later I arrived back at St. Quentin in the early afternoon. I managed to ride out to the hotel from the train station via the finish line as I at least wanted to see what it would have been like to complete this event. It was bitter sweet to see all the cheering crowds at the finish but perhaps it will serve as additional motivation for another attempt in 2011.
Arriving back at the Novotel hotel were we were staying I was greeted by clapping as I entered the foyer and the very welcome sight of Susan and the kids running towards me from the restaurant overlooking the entrance were they had been keeping an eye out for me.
Takeaways
This is a unique event. There has been much talk on various mailing lists of things that could be changed to make it safer. Bad as my tale got there are worse ones out there, including a number of accounts of sleep deprived riders riding into the wrong lane and being struck by oncoming traffic.
Personally I think that the reason the event appeals to me is because of the challenge involved with all that you must overcome in it. Rather than change it I feel the onus is on anyone taking part in it to prepare sufficiently so that they can overcome the various challenges. Before I would undertake it again I would want to be able to ride at a faster pace to ensure that I could have adequate sleep during it so that I wouldn’t be as severely sleep deprived.
So will I be back in 2011 to try again? …. At this stage I’d say probably. I don’t like leaving anything unfinished.