What a cosmopolitan suffering for 72h18m and Hansi's true french experience.
Just wanted to share with you my experience on Paris-Brest-Paris 1999, 750
Miles with a time limit of 90 hours. This is the oldest bike race in the
world with some 3700 people participating, qualifiers to pass before
allowing to ride in it. Facts for me. 785miles in 72h18m with 4 hours
sleep. Time limit 90 hours. No shower, no change of cloth, only riding,
riding some quick eating and changing batteries for the front light. Nice
weather all the way with some sporadic very light and refreshing showers in
Brest.
Wednesday 17/Aug/99.
As discussed earlier my first disaster happened with the Delta flight
cancelled to Paris on Wednesday 17/Aug/99. However I made it out the next
day on Thursday but got again scared at the airport since some 40 people
were overbooked. After some begging I got on the flight and made it into
Paris fine.
At the airport Charles de Gaulle in Paris I retrieved my bike and jumped
on the PBP bus organized by De Peres Travel for a fee of $ 30.- to my Hotel
in Saint Quentin in Yvelines/Guyancourt, close to the ride start, just
outside Versailles. The Hotel was packed with riders from the States. My
room was small but OK, hence nothing fancy.
Without delay I started putting my bike together and called Tom and Janet
to join me and bike friends from Florida/Ohio for a nice meal at the local
Plaza, just down from my Hotel in the Center of town.
After a good night sleep we went out the next morning Friday 20/Aug/99 on
a "PBP training ride" for some 50 miles starting at the Hotel Mercure in
St. Quentin. Jim Solanic the fine Brevet organizer from Florida joint us
and it was very nice to see the old friends from our Brevet series. The
whole Ohio gang was out there too. We all joint together for Lunch at the
local plaza in St. Quentin and ate pasta and drank wine.
After some siesta Tom, Janet, Mims and myself went out to explore Paris.
Janet found this perfect place for Dinner in Paris "Bistro Breteuil" at
Place de Breteul for $ 30.- all included from Hors d'euvre to cafe
expresso. Really good food. I went back at least 4 more times.
Saturday same routine, training ride, eating at the plaza, exploring Paris
and Bistro Breteuil.
Sunday a complete off day. Just eating in St. Quentin, sleeping, relaxing,
last bike adjustment.
Monday packing up the bags and store them in the Hotel until return. Got
some sleeping pills to fall a sleep and was ready for departure to the
Stadium at St. Quentin en Yvelines. They let the first riders in at 8:15PM
and we stood in line, got our first departure stamp in our booklet and
waited for departure from the Stadium at 10:15PM, laying on the ground.
10:00PM, slowly but surely we got out of the stadium in time and it was
quite a spectacle with people cheering and clapping. One minute silence for
people who died on PBP before me, and off we went. It was amazing to see
all those red tail lights in the dark in front of me, thousands,
unbelievable, everybody with the same goal to finish this ride in 90 hours.
Tom, Tim and myself we tried to move up some, to a group who was riding
our pace. However, with so many riders you kind of loose control and
wonder if your
friends are still around. Therefore everybody is yelling names to make sure
that their biking buddie's are close. Tom and Tim was hanging behind me.
However in one small town I made the wrong turn and had some Australian
guys in front of me. We figured this out quickly since the long line of red
tail lights went a different route, very visible at night. We turned around
and jumped in again. I found Tom and Tim again after some 20 minutes
searching.
We rode all night long, all day long and the crowds thinned out some.
However, you never ride alone. In Tinteniac, some 200 miles into the ride,
arriving at 4PM I got a little nervous since the food line was too long
for my taste and went for a sandwich on the bike. Tom and Tim wanted to
eat at the stop in Tinteniac and I left them behind. I have only seen them
one more time on the whole ride when I was on the return leg from Brest.
Next day Tuesday around 9PM I came to Loudenac and went down for two hours
sleep in some chouchettes prepared for the riders. I did not shower or
changed close, I was so tired. Just wanted to concentrate on some sleep.
At midnight Tuesday I left Loudenac and rode by myself, seeing some red
dots from the tail light ahead of me, indicating the proper route. After
some 2 hours of riding in the hills I found two cyclist riding my pace and
they were French guys. One was 43 and the other was 55 years old. I did
some pulls in front, we rotated, started to talk and somehow bonded. When
you swett together, young, old, black, white all becomes one. This is the
way I felt. They invited me to eat at the same table and I met Papa who
was their personal sag and went from control to control.
I like to point out that the Bretagne from Carhaix to Brest is very
beautiful but very hilly. We had some serious climbs in front of us. Not
like the Georgia mountains but long and steady uphill.
We passed Carhaix, Brest, turned around and our goal was to reach Loudenac
still by day light on Wedneday. We did and I was totally exhausted after
some 200 miles in hilly terrain.
However my French buddie's wanted to keep pushing to Fougers some 80miles
further and I was totally exhausted by then. However, their commitment was
to carry me into Paris under any circumstances. Therefore I had no way out,
did not want to disappoint them, kept going until we reached Fougers around
midnight. We had a quick meal, went down two hours for some sleep and
stared riding again on the final leg into Paris.
By this time I had not showered, did not brush my teeth once, had the same
cloth on, on and off the bike, riding or sleeping and smelled like a dirty
dog.
Papa was so nice to take my heavy big bag of the bike and carried it
all the way into Paris. This helped a little.
So we started on our last leg at 2AM on Thursday morning and kept riding.
I was about to fall apart by this time but my new friends did not leave me
behind and slowed down on the hills. The old man even pushed me up the
hills if I couldn't hold the pace. You know how humiliating this can be!
However, I did recuperate some and we kept riding and riding and riding.
The young guy somehow smelled the arrival some 100 miles before Paris and
the pace he put on was tremendous for me. Some 22-23 miles per hour. At
this time I was not able to ride at the front anymore and happy to stay in
the draft of my friends. However the terrain was flat by now but I suffered
like I have never suffered before in my life and my friends kept increasing
the pace. I yelled often "Slow down" and the old man would come back and
push me for a while. What a guy! We did stop twice in bars in some little
towns and had a "Pression" which is a draft beer. This had a great impact
on me and I was able to keep going a little better. Beer and wine was
always on the French guys menu during the ride and so on mine. Finally
after some heavy suffering we arrived at Nogent le Roi 50 miles before the
finish.
I broke down, physically and mentally at this point but did not let loose
and knew that I have to keep riding. I was ready to creep on my knees to
Paris if I had to.
I eat very quickly and told my friends that I already go ahead and ride my
own pace, very easy to recuperate until they reached me some 50 minutes
later. This did help me a lot and when they finally arrived I could not
believe it! My friends now pulled a group of some 30 riders behind them.
The young and old guy in front all the times! As soon as they came up to me
they yelled. "Hans jump on quickly" I had serious doubts that I could do it
but somehow the addrealine kicked in and I forgot how tired I was. Those
last 30 miles in this big group were incredible. The pace incrased again
and we rode into St. Quentin with a pace of 24 miles per hour. 10 miles
before the finish a ride Marshall on a motorcycle came up and closed the
roads for us, diverted the traffic, stopped busses, you name it. We kept
the pace high and reached at some point racing speed towards the stadium
some 5 miles to go.
When we reached the stadium 500 local people cheered us on at the round
about before the stadium. What a feeling. I had the biggest smile on my
face I ever had. We decided to do a victory lap in front of the crowds and
they kept clapping their hands; "BON COURAGE, ALLEZ, ALLEZ", etc.
In the stadium we got our cards signed and picked up some pictures taken
during the ride. My official time was 72h18m and I couldn't walk anymore.
However, I felt very much relieved and happy to have finished this ride.
Some beer's in the Hotel and some left over sandwiches from somebody helped
me to recuperate.
Some information about my French biking buddy's. 43 and 55 years old. 15
years old touring bikes 6-7 speed. Absolute minimum gear on the bike.
Arm/Leg warmers no helmets. Lighting system. The young guy had a a handle
bar bag with an oversized motor cycle battery his father was charging while
driving during daytime in the car. One had an old rusty chrome flashlight
mounted on the handlebar with some home made brackets they have welded
together. On the downhills I had to light the way with my Cateye since it
was a lot brighter, se we could keep up the pace. Absolutely nothing
exeptional on their bikes at all. However they had some clipless pedals
and good biking shoes. I think I have seen them only very sporadically
sipping on their bottles.
Food was mostly soup/bread at the stops. Some vegetable. I tried some eggs
and bacon and could not ride after this efficiently. Water, Beer, Wine was
all fine with them. We did stop twice on the road for some pression, draft
beers and this was very good!!!