Bon Courage, Bonne Route

Since January 2007 I single mindedly worked towards one goal only: Paris-Brest-Paris. I was fixated on riding the most challenging and most "enjoyable" of all long distance cycling events, the quadrennial PBP. As Bob Sheldon would say: "I was a man on a mission". The task at hand: cycle the 1227 km in less than 90 hours regardless of weather conditions or any other impediments and still have fun. I had fun and lots of it - I enjoyed every single second of this ride. But the adrenaline rush was over in a blink of an eye, carrying in its wake a letdown of enormous proportion. My dear wife Priscilla, recognizing the effects of the dramatic build-up followed by this brief moment of greatness and the inevitable rapid descent into a void, put me right back on track to the next mission: back to work and making discoveries. But just work, and even discoveries, just does not cut it. I immediately went to the PAC Tour web site and signed up for the Peru Tour in October. Three weeks have passed and wonderful memories remain. But there are also those numb fingers that just do not want to get better.

Bon Courage, Bonne Route!
It was those words that I heard thousands of times shouted by 1000s of spectators during the 1227 km and 83+ hours between the departure from Paris and my return - and the mere thought of this grand event still send shivers down my spine. People from all walks of life were lining the streets, farmers waved from their tractors, a woman leaned out of her window at the wee hours to wish me "Bon Voyage", locals were standing in drenching rain to cheer the riders, and when leaving the controls volunteers always sent us off with the now so familiar Bon Courage, Bonne Route!

Some of the DC riders before our Saturday outing
Remember the Riders
There were many of us from the DC area - hardend riders who had battled the hills of Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia and Pennsylvania. We had survived Crista's Torture Fests and Matt's "grinder" Brevets. This picture features only some of us who rode on Saturday.

I met plenty of interesting folks on the road. On the way to Loudeac I caught up with our very President Mark Thomas. I chatted with him for some time and always called him Matt but he didn't seem to mind. John Lee Ellis was another one of those guys whom you run into all the time. Then there was Ed from Texas. We rode together the first night so I do not really know his face and only his voice.

Returning to Loudeac I cycled with this guy who did not carry any major bag, obviously he had a support vehicle. Wrong, he lived in Loudeac and stayed on the way out and back in his house - how convenient.

After I left Loudeac for Tinteniac I met this guy from Chile who lives in Norway. He was traumatized from the 2003 PBP where he missed the closing time in Brest and DNFed. He clearly made sure that this would not happen again.

Where are we? Where is the ***** Hotel
Among the usual suspects were Lynn Ho and Steve Ashurst, the tandem couple from Burtonsville. The last time I saw them was in Villaines on the return route as they were tracking down their drop bag and probably checking into a ***** hotel serving wonderful dinners. Yes, young people have quite some lifestyle.

And then there was Jentz, a guy from Munich whom I had met at the "Erdinger Radmarathon" earlier in August. We met at every controle between Brest and Villaines, but never on the road.

Between Mortagne and Dreux life was lonely. It was after midnight I rode long stretches by myself and sometimes not seeing any lights in front or behind me wondering whether I had missed a turn. But the sleeping riders at the roadside and in the ditches reassured me that I was on track. Then there was this Belgian guy who's seven companions with whom he had left Mortagne all had dropped off to the left and right and were happily snoozing somewhere in the wet grass. We both were happy that we had found each other and he shared his bread with me, which, however, tasted like sweet wet paper.

I also met this guy somewhere out there and he told me all about his divorce and how long distance cycling had helped him to get over it. I wonder what I talked about to those perfect strangers and cannot remember. PBP would be ther perfect place for psychiatrists.

Karl (the Bavarian RBA), Paul and Ulli
On Sunday before the ride I walked around the campground to find Matt Settle and Paul Donaldson, two of our DC Randonneurs. I never found Matt, but I sure did Paul. He had pitched his tent among the 100s of French, Germans, Brits, Dutch etc. On the left this is Karl, the Bavarian RBA, Paul and Ulli. As always Paul brought along his true Randonneuring bike with the shopping basket.

George, Lothar and Bill after the check-in on Sunday

Sleeping Bavarian
And of course there was (and is) my Spetzl Ulli from Munich who taught me so much about fixing bicycles and how to properly pour Bavarian wheat beer into those special glasses. You will be asking what a Spetzl is. A Spetzl is the Bavarian form of a close buddy. We drove together from Munich to Paris and back to Munich and prepared sandwiches , which were supposed to nourish for most of the ride (Ulli just does not like to spend money). However, after about 700 km my mouth was so sore that I could not eat anymore this dark German bread with french salami. Mashed potatoes and beer were more gentle on the inflamed mucosa. On the left this is Ulli sleeping peacefully at the outbound secret controle (take notice of the organized arrangement of all his belongings. In Brest, his pedal broke off but he still managed to repair it and arrive back in Paris with plenty of time to spare.

Dreux, the last controle. While walking out of the controle after a short nap (it's amazing I can fall asleep within seconds on a hard floor), a cyclist I passed dropped a plastic shopping bag and probably more than 30 AA batteries fell out. I guess she must have been doing a lot of night riding. Certainly my Schmidt SON with the E6 light gave me a good view of path to take. After the short nap I was so drowsy that I could not find my bike, but the helpful volunteers tracked down bike 4832 and I cycled off into the night.

Yummy lunch in Carhaix on the return route (left), Breakfast in Dreux at 0400 hours (right)
Remember the Food
Yes, the food, and there was plenty of it. I had stuffed my handlebar bag with carbs, not the expensive and professional bars from Hammer and alikes, but with cookies I had collected from airline lounges over the past 8 months. And then there 10 ziplock bags with white powder, the stuff that goes into one of the two water bottles and from there directly into the quads - it lasted all the way. Bill Beck had tought me the art of snacking from the handlebar bag and I rode through to Vaillaines where I arrived at 0748 hours. I had achieved one important goal and built a large time cushion, which I kept to the end.

Controle in Loudeac on the way back (left) and retour secret controle (right)
Remember the Controls
Yes, controls are the key and I got all my stamps. After more than 24 hours of riding weird things happened to me. I am not one of those guys who walks 10 times around the car to make sure the doors are locked or who pulls down the door of the postal mail box to make sure the letter dropped. However, things were different on this ride - so much more was at stake. Upon leaving controls I asked myself: Lothar, are you sure the guys at the controle stamped the Brevet card and returned the plastic card?. So while riding in the middle of the night I pulled out the neck pouch they gave us at the start from under my jersey and checked my Brevet card. Well, this happened several times to me, and surely enough I had the stamp. The volunteers staffing the controls were extremely nice the swiping and stamping of thousands of card probably caused repetitive injuries for some of them.

Roadside Support!
Remember those Roadside Families!
What would we have done without them, the little helpers on the route! They nourished and encouraged us. As we say in the US, they probably worked 24/7. The guy on the left and his daughter served me coffee and cookies. They also had emptied out their shed and matrasses invited tired riders. Needles to say, they had also set up a repair stand for bicycles. I was lucky as I had no mechanical problem on this monster ride. The family on the right wanted in return for their hospitality a postcard from my native country and they gave me their address. I lost it in the rain. Does anybody have their adress or e-mail?

Me and my beer. This picture was taken on the way back in Mortagne. By that time I had severe trench foot and walking was painful. I called my private physician in the US (1600 hour US time) and after describing the status of me feet she encouraged me to quit. However, this was not in the cards. I went to the infirmary where my feet were treated and after a beer I got on my bike and moved on. Remember Lon Haldeman: Ignore anything that can be cured within a few weeks.

Remember my Birthday!
I tuned 55 on August 22nd, I was riding hard and it might well have been the most memorable one I had in a long time. My birthday began taking a nap on the hard floor of the outbound secret controle and ended me leaving Loudeac and heading towards Tinteniac. When I left the secret controle sometimes in the early hours I ran into John Fuoco and Bob Casciato who looked strong and told me they were on track to finish in the low 60s. The night riding to Carhaix was faulous and I truely enjoyed it. Many 80 hour riders were heading back and the show of lights was spectacular. After Carhaix I was riding for some time with a fellow US cyclist, who was in the 80 hour group. He had to make it to Brest by 0900 and did not seem to be in a hurry.

Dawn broke sometimes after leaving Carhaix and I enjoyed the morning ride. As my birthday present I decided to invite random riders along the route for Cafe au'lait and croissants. Thus I had quite a few birthday guests and a big party. Catherine from the Colorado Randonneurs gave me a nice present, she pulled me for a few km (Thanks Catherine). Riding (or shall I say flying) into Brest under sunny skies was spectacular and like others I had tears in my eyes. But not for long, the climb to the control brought me back to reality. Upon checking in at 0945 I received a voucher for a drink. Great, I had a free beer on my birthday and plenty of cycling - that's all an aging male can ask for. Back in Sizun I ran into for the xth time into John Lee Ellis who was also on his way "home". He was sure that we would be able to finish the ride in time since normally 90% of the DNFs occur at Brest the latest. Well, nothing was normal this year and the PBP web site showed large numbers of DNFs after Brest. I also ran into Carol Bell and Chris Mento who were as chipper as ever. After two roles of goat cheese and coffee I headed up the Roc Trevesal. There was Maile Neel heading towards me and shouting: Happy Birthday Grandpa - this was sweet of her! I saw many other DC riders: Bill Beck with his oversized handlebar bag and the supersize saddle bag, Matt, Ed, Paul, Nick.

I returned to Loudeac shortly after 2000 hours, ate some sausage, took a shower and had two beers before I retired to bed. The dorm was rather empty so there was no problem getting a bed. But the beds were wet and the blankets were probably still from the first PBP in 1891 and had never seen a washing machine. I was back on the bike just before my birthday came to an end.

I know already for sure that I shall celebrate my 59th birthday again in France ... and ride 1200km
Joe Brown, the man who claimed I talked to him in Villaines on the return. As proof he did send me a picture he took of me
(images are courtesy of Joe Brown)
What I cannot remember!
Well, I thought that remembered most of the events on the ride, but reality is more brutal. Last Saturday I rode the Sloanesville 200K Brevet and Bill Beck mentioned that he had arrived shortly after me in Villaines on the return route (editors note: Bill left in the 84 hour group while I rode in the 90 hour group). "How do you know" I asked, "Joe Brown told me" he replied. So I asked Joe, who also rode the 200K how he knew when I had passed through Villaines. He driely replied, "we talked at the Villaine controle" and he sent me a picture of myself at this very controle. I just do not have any recollection of this encounter. But I remember my encounter with Lynn and Steve in Villaines.

Lothar Hennighausen, September 2007