Sunday, 22 September 2019

Border Nights 400 - 21st September

I woke up from a fairly rubbish sleep and not exactly raring to go; it took me ages to get out of bed and sort myself out, I had planned to get the 0722 train with the 0750 as back up even thought the 0840 would get me to Edinburgh on time. I set off for the station at 8, I felt good and was riding well so put the morning fug down to being an anxious Owl and the needless early alarm.

This is a local shop for...
The trains down to Carlisle went well and when I got there the train to Brampton that I was timetabled to miss by 5 minutes was sitting waiting along with the one before it.  A signalling issue had made a mess of things and to make things worse for Network Rail the line was being used to get round a closure on the east coast line between Morpeth and Dunbar.

Hallbank Gate "local" shop, worth the stop even if not scheduled; Café open until 2
I hopped on and we set of 35mins late, the announcements weren't working on the train until after Weatherall where it told me the next stop was Haltwhistle rather than Brampton... Slightly concerning but the National Rail app still had us booked to stop at Brampton so put it down to user error.

Riders ready
It was a warm day and I was kitted out for night riding so was a bit too warm as I rode up the hill to Hallbankgate from Brampton Station which is in the woods about a mile from town.  I rolled into the shop with over 2 hours to wait for the start.  I first became aware of this shop on the Borderlands Explorer 600 in 2018 when I saw the "Local Shop" sign, though I didn't stop.  I finally stopped here on the Alston and Back 300 in 2019 and was pleasantly surprised at what was on offer in the small community Co-Op so knew I'd be able to get a reasonable lunch, which I did in the form of the day's special a Chicken Wrap.


Andy arrived and the woman on the counter told him I'd been there for hours (I had!), he got set up then handed me my card, other riders soon arrived some caught up in the train issues others had arrived by a more reliable form of transport. Andy said he had 25 entries but was down to 17 riders at this point and expected a few others to DNS.  As we gathered to start he gave us a warning about the level crossing at Milton which I know well and about the road down to Dumfries from Monaive which I don't.

Down from Brampton

When 3 O'Clock came I shot off along the gravel path to the road and then set off down the hill rather hot, the tail wind and gravity combining to push me along, a rider passed me on the way into the level crossing having obviously not understood the warning and nearly crashed into the side of a car when the off camber left hander the crossing drops you onto came on him. As I descended my eyes and nose started to stream, I put it down to accidentally taking too much nosal spray for my Rhinitis, it's not hayfever season after all is it?

Down from Brampton
Some of the riders behind caught us at the Brampton bypass but I was back up to speed on the descent through town and held my place up the hill out; as the road to Longtown levelled off my speed dropped majorly and everyone else sailed by.  As he passed Dave suggested I grab his wheel so I tried to hang on.  Another rider passed us in town telling us his chain had snapped, I suggested if he needed it there was a shop just over the bridge, though a chain a couple of links short should be fine.

Lockerbie

Dave dropped me on the road to Gretna and I started to feel a struggle on the short sharp bank into Springfield; though I kept a good pace up the hill to Lockerbie where Dave and another two riders were stopped in the petrol station eating.  I decided to bounce the control grabbing some basic food as I reckoned I'd eaten enough to get to Gala.

Out of Lockerbie I was on a new road to Boreland and on to Eskdalemuir; I started to feel the struggle more and found myself out of the saddle a lot more than I should be; but it's a good rolling road and my average was still showing ok.
The other two riders passed me and then Dave did too, by now I knew something wasn't right and started to wonder if I'd made the wrong decision in the morning.
Down to Eskdalemuir and I was feeling ok again, it felt strange riding right past the community bistro where all of the Gala rides stop.

Samye Ling

The hill up was ok and I was over and onto the descent comfortably, but then on the descent as darkness fell I was feeling wrong again and getting sleepy and worse coughing too, I was pedalling down hill into a breeze but was on and off the saddle to do so, and my legs ached, not the usual exercise leg ache but a "you've got a cold or flu" ache.

Down at Bowhill I knew I was back on the flat and I felt better again and forced myself to stay in the saddle as much as I could to Gala, when I got to McDonalds Robbie was just leaving and Dave and the other two were sitting eating.  I ordered and decided I'd make a decision once I'd eaten, but as I stood waiting for my tea my legs started turning jelly like.

I checked the train times and found out that the last train that would let me get home that night was in 20 minutes.  I asked the server for a bag and told the other guys that I was going home and set off for the late night party trains to Fife.

On the party train to Edinburgh

Friday, 20 September 2019

Kilrymanjaro - 1st Sept 2019


Nae cheering neeburs staund aside the road, nae juice, nae crepes, nae caffee, nae tea.
Jist polite afferins o' the forenoon fae the odd body oot washing thair motor in the gairden ir aside the road.
Dalhousie Airch - Aigle

Nae ca's o' bon courage, nae bon rowt fae passin motors, abuis hurled oot insteid "Mah granny can ride faister", Aye but can yer granny ride twal hunner k?
The cooncil dinnae say sairy fir the roch and pot holed road, whit wid the depairtment say tae this?
Thon hills ir a sair fetch fir weary legs, knaps ake 'n grain as wi gae upwith.


Royal Airch - Fettery

Wi rode fae Farfar thru Aigle and Fettery tae Auchenblae whar Torc wis staumping cairds at the café by thon play pairk, fae thar it wiz back tae Fettery an Aigle and alang tae Kirrie fir the dig tae Brigend and anither café whar Robbie catcht me maugre his late stairt by o'er an oor.


Kirk - Drumotchty


Mair upwart riding throu Glen Isla tae the tap o' Kilry brae, and then doon roond Ailyth an in tae Straithmor fir a fine run back in tae Farfar.

OAn oor wai back tae Kirrie


We gaed ben the shoap fir a tattie and a cake, then back oot into the wilds tae get oor distance up tae twa hunner fir twa mair audax points.

Aboon Farfar


Hame roads whit ithers iz like thaim?

Paris - Brest - Paris 1200 and a bit more: 13 to 27th August 2019 - Part 3 Getting Home

Tiredness was beating me so I left the Northerners shortly after 1pm and rode down to my hotel thinking I'd be able to check in promptly on arrival.

Knowing what I know now I should have gone back under the tree for another snooze and hung around until the evening meal at the Bergerie. I would have come home with two direction signs as well as some other trinkets of the ride and have had what was by all accounts a pretty decent meal at the closing ceremony.

Ramboulliet
Instead I stood in a rabble of knackered cyclists waiting for reception to open and when it did the receptionist had a nightmare with everyone in the queue, the first was actually cancelling their room, the second had lost his booking from the previous evening and was hoping the room was still available and then I ended up paying for another guests booking as well as my one. Trying to get a refund for the incorrect check in then proved to be a nightmare as they couldn't refund to card and my UK bank account details were of course useless.
It seems while the rest of the world it appears uses BIC and IBAN numbers, British exceptionalism means I had no access to the details they needed.

Finally in my room I emptied the contents of my Carradice onto the bed and then had what I intended to be a "brief lie down" between the bits and pieces it was hardly 5pm.
I woke at 2am, hungry and with no hope of getting anything to eat, I decided to sort the stuff on the bed into piles for packing and washing before finally having a shower for the first time in four and a half days.  An hour later, washed, with now damp clothes hung up around me room, I went back to bed and woke at 0935, missing breakfast by minutes.

Dissapointed at losing the 7 euros worth of breakfast, I decided to leave off the bike for the day and walked to the shopping mall nearby to see if there were any Cafés there and at least get something from Carefour if not.  As it turned out the Carefour Café was still serving breakfasts and I had a reasonable enough Croissaint, Pain Au Chocolat and bottle of coca for less than the hotel price.
On further exploration of the mall there were at least 3 other better looking cafés on site.

Amphibious vehicle and Hotel De Ville
I arranged to meet Robbie and Élaina after lunch, and started working out the bus system in town, it was reasonably simple and frequent running every 15 minutes from the bus stop just up the road from the hotel.  All I needed to do was buy a time limited ticket for travel throughout the commune from the driver for the heady sum of €2. On arriving in town, I took to the Café by the Caroussel, the previous weekend it, along with the rest of the town was hoaching with cyclists but now only a handful lingered. The lunch menu was reasonable and I had a burger sans-fromage before Robbie and Élaina arrived for a drink, we decided tea would be a good idea in the evening and took different paths of tourism round the town.

I went into the park for a look around, dodging the heat of the sun under the trees as I needed before braving the sun as I walked round the Chateau and into the car park in front of the Hotel De Ville where a collection of French and American vehicles from the Liberation were parked up, it was 75 years and 2 days since the town was liberated from the Nazis and a car club had been touring Northern France with their WWII era vehicles.
It was only once I carried on my wander round the town that I realized the trucks and even the amphibious vehicle were doing passenger rides, so I missed out on the chance for a birl and to sniff the fumes of low octane petrol and Castrol R. [http://www.univem-paris.com/en/75th-anniversary-of-the-liberation-of-rambouillet/]

Citroen
I headed back to my hotel while Robbie and Élaina visited the model railway and saw other bits of the town I'd seen in the rain on the Saturday after bike check.  We decided on an option for tea over messenger and then discovered it was shut for August, Robbie booked a table at the the back up option with a menu I had said was "limited"; unfortunately I hadn't explained what I meant by "limited" to Robbie at the time, it wasn't that I didn't like the fact there was only 3 options for each course on the menu, it was actually that I meant it usually means the chef is good and also they're not over ordering and freezing.
Chez Martin was fantastic but I have to say I would have been utterly dependent on Google Translate being accurate (and when is it ever accurate) if it wasn't for Robbie's ability to translate nouns and Élaina's first language being French.
I got on a bus late in the evening well fed and looking forward to the next days ride north to Evreux.


We met at the post office, my Carradice hadn't been quite as easy to pack as I'd hoped and on discovering Robbie had room left in a pre-paid postage box, I quickly changed my plan to carry everything, all those extra little trinkets I'd collected needed to go along with my warmers and night glasses which I stuffed into the water bottle and drink cup..
As I waited for him to return from inside the post office, a group of Kiwi riders pulled up at the bike stand and started faffing with their luggage to carry out a similar task. After the Kiwi's had gone some locals started to talk to me about Paris-Brest in Broken English, it turned out they'd missed that the event had been and gone despite the banners and the electronic information signs which I only realized when they started offering me Bon Route and Bon Courage.

The start of a routing error
The first day's ride back was to be an easy 80km to Evreux, by riding back up to Houdan through a route I'd scoped in Google Street View on the hard pack dirt and tarmaced roads of the forest of Ramboulliet, all however was not quite what it seemed, after making decent progress one of the had packed roads turned to rough gravel and then to sand, and for 2km we hauled the bikes through that sand cursing my route planning.  I look back at the route we took and in street view and can only surmise that I accidentally altered or failed to save the route, as what I described to Robbie of a short hard pack section then tar paths is exactly what GSV shows.


The dots are the tarmaced cycle track, the blue line is the sand trap

Houdan
After the sand trap we rode into Houdan irritated, hot, dusty, sandy, thirsty and concerned about the time of day as well as our chains. The first Tabac we poked our noses into was shutting for lunch.
We rode on past the cathedral and through onto the cobbled streets of the centre where we found a Creperie busy inside but had some free tables outside where we could watch the bikes as we ate.  I scoured the menu for a Cheeseless option that wasn't a desert, just as I was feeling beaten and starting to consider Nutella and Banana to be a suitable lunch Robbie pointed out the cheese free option.


We set off again and found that most of the rest of the town was deserted. The forest gave way to fields and the afternoon sun started beating down on us. I was struggling with the heat and using up water fast, at Anet only 18km on from Houdan we stopped at a café for a drink and top up of water which was enough to just get me to Evreux.

I'd spent some time trying to find a route into the Evreux Motel that we had booked while avoid riding on the busy main roads that intersect on the edge of town, I didn't manage to avoid them but did find a route in through a series of roundabouts that would do the job; while riding out of one of these roundabouts my foot felt rather loose in my emergency purchase shoes, as the buckle bolt had come loose enough to fall off.

On the road
The hotel was one whose format we had been advised was great for cyclists, the rooms were accessed from an outer walkway rather than corridors where we were able to hang clothes up to dry after washing them and the evening meal would be a good spread of a buffet.
However once again things weren't plain sailing at the hotel, to start with check in wasn't too easy as the receptionist only spoke slightly more English than I speak French (Robbie again saving the day), then we were given the key card for a room with a faulty lock, however we didn't find this out until we had hauled our bikes up the narrow twisting staircase.

When we got hungry we crossed to the restaurant and discovered that we were half an hour early for food, despite the buffet being set out ready.  Further to this the menu showed kitchen cooked options that could be added to the meal, but we were told this wasn't available; with the hotel clearly busy I thought the restaurant would be too but as we grazed over a buffet of sliced cold meats, fruit, veg and skewers of meat to cook on the grill at the buffet only 2 other guests arrived to eat.
This seemed all rather odd to me but I got a good feed in none the less.

We felt the breakfast option at the hotel was overpriced so heading into Évreux the next morning we were looking for a Patisierie for breakfast, we found one next to the a square with a view of the centre piece cathedral and got ourselves ready for the day ahead.

Évreux
This was to be the longer day, around 140km to the ferry port and once again it was looking like a scorcher.  I'd failed to use a zip tie to hold the buckle strap in place on my shoe so had simply lashed it to the lower velcro straps and hoped I'd be able to hold them tight enough to ride in which thankfully proved to be the case.  The one way system took us through the historic sights of the city and spat us out onto a busy road which I'd set the route up to avoid as soon as possible; this took us on the cycle path up to the hospital before cutting across into Parvile which the main road bypassed, after this I had spotted an old road through a field in the satellite mapping but the farmer had long since reclaimed the land by swamping the tarmac with dirt.

We were back out in the fields again passing through small villages and the occasional town, I'd designed the return route to be north of the outbound route so that we got different scenery and towns. Beaumont-Le-Roger and Serquingy proved to not have anything worth stopping for on a Sunday morning and it wasn't until Bernay that we stopped for lunch at the only place open, the Super U Express.  We'd caught the shop just in time as no sooner were we sitting outside with our lunches than the staff locked the entrance door and took in the seats we hadn't occupied.  Thankfully they let us sit and eat before taking them in too and locking up for the day.

Wheeler Dealer Mayor?
The supermarket meal was surprisingly filling and we set out again as we rolled towards Thiberville I spotted a mayors office on a corner in the road at Faverolles-les-mares decked out with the trappings of a used car dealership and old style signage for the tuning of Carburettors of makes now long passed into the history books owned by Dellorto (Weber and Solex).
This amused me, where else would a mayor also be a wheeler dealer of automobiles?
Only the fictional Walford and Erinsborough came to mind.



We were going well on the road when I heard a buzz followed by a splatting between my Casquette and Sun Glasses followed by a sharp pain, I'd been stung.  I eructed a stream of profanities that although not much trouble for the writers of Roger's Profanisaurus would be rather unwelcome in polite company. The pain didn't last long but I could feel the skin swelling up and had to stop to give it a check using my phone's selfie camera and a wash from my bottle of water.
I could see the swelling was going down already so reckoned I'd live and carried on again with the gap between glasses and hat closed.

Lisieux
Carrying along the road two large buildings appeared up on the hill beside us, the first clearly the dome of a Basilica and the second a bell tower of the same though it looked like a brutalist cheese grater to me.

Our road into Lisieux joined the road to the Basilica but we chose to ride into town stopping at the first Tabac we found; finding space for the bikes proved tricky and I never thought to consider the trees so I placed it against the poles of the access ramp.
I stepped into the road in a traffic gap to get a photo and posted it to facebook; within seconds I got a message from a school friend "My friend owns a bar right next to where you are!".  Sadly the bar in question was not the Tabac so any chance of wangling a free coca and ice cream were lost.
The manager stepped outside and rambled something at me in French; Robbie looked at me and told me to put my bike against the tree. The motions to indicate that the poles weren't strong enough showed me the problem after I'd moved the bike, by now Robbie was in discussion with the manager and briefly thought I might be in a bit more trouble, however Robbie told me he was asking about where we were going and why to Ouistream and not Le Havre for the ferry! Robbie didn't translate me response of "Well it was cheaper wasn't it".

There was a sharp climb on a small road out of town through some woods only to lose the height in 2 stages shortly afterwards and then we were back out into the fields for the afternoon, once again with nowhere to hide from the sun I was struggling with the heat and at Le Ham I used up the last of my water though I thankfully knew we weren't far from Troarn where I hoped there'd be another Tabac.

As we rode on a triangle junction with a stone monument appeared, it depicted 3 men tied to a stake in the ground and was provided with a plaque advising of it's dedication.  My lack of French did not prevent me from understanding.

 
Memorial to honour the memory and recognise the sacrifice of the 28 Martyrs of France executed by the Nazis during the battle of Normandy.  Their bodies were found in a muddy bomb hole, 11 unidentified bodies are buried at the foot of the clock tower of the church nearby.
At Troarn I rode into the town square to look for a Café or Tabac, but Robbie had already spotted one and made a beeline for it, a nice steel George Longstaff was leaning against the wall in the sun and its rider, Ian was sitting enjoying an afternoon drink in the shade of the Tabac.
We got talking and discovered that he had been riding back to the coast in the group with Lucy and Dick McTaggart!  He had been split from them due to a mechanical failure on the tandem trike making them decide to travel part of the way to their next stop by train and the sliding doors shut on him as he was the last to attempt to board and so had to ride on.

Robbie and Ian riding to the bridge
We set off together towards Caen, and at Pegasus Bridge Ian said goodbye and carried on to the west.  On the way south I hadn't had a good change to explore the monuments dotted around the east side of the bridge, and found that each one located where one of the three Horsa gliders had crash landed.  On the other side of the road there was signed a monument however it turned out to be a museum with the original bridge and a load of flag poles along with an entrance fee neither of us were willing to pay. I wasn't overly impressed with the manner in which the staff member lowering the flags carried out his duty either.


We crossed the bridge and checked out the restaurants in the area, it was either far to early or far too touristy, the problem was I was getting hangry, thankfully Robbie spotted a Patisserie which recovered me from the perils of hanger and set me up to carry on to the coast.

At the coast we went to find the monuments dotted along the road parallel to the beach which was code named "Sword" for the battle of Normandy where the British commanded forces had landed, the primary memorial sitting the dunes with statues of the operation leaders. The dunes insulated the memorial from the sounds of the beach from the road but as you climbed the steps the sound of the waves and then people enjoying themselves at the beach as you reached the top.
In contrast the battle sites I've visited which usually sit on a bleak muir such as Culloden or Bannockburn it seemed quite strange but also apt tht people are free to enjoy the beach without the rigidity of the fascism that was being fought there.

Further on up the road there is a monument to Piper Bill Millin, a Canadian born Scotsman who lead Lord Lovat's Commando's up the beach in contravention of what Lovat put as "English War Office's" Regulations armed only with a set of Highland bagpipes and a Sgian Dubh.
His survival can be partly put down to the Nazi snipers determination that Millin had gone mad!

Piper Bill Millin
The quality of the eating establishments was considerably better here too and the first we tried was fully booked for the evening.  The second was set up with seats out in a hedge surrounded patio area and we wheeled the bikes in much to the consternation of the garçon who indicated to us that there was a bike rack at the side of the building.  The small wheel bender based device wasn't ideal and was well hidden from our sight but not from the road, it'd have to do. The meal was decent though and it wasn't long before it was time to head for the ferry.

Facilities in the vehicle waiting area at Ouistream were only slightly better than at Portsmouth, it was basically a wide smoking shelter.  A motorbike along with its rider and pillion passenger were already there and not long after we arrived another PBP rider appeared the appropriately named Mr Pain!
We passed the time talking, and checking out the motorbike before we were allowed to board. I had changed my shoes without thinking about the distance to the linkspan's bridge and ended up running up the ramp and onto the ferry.

On board once again the cabins weren't ready but this time we tried to sneak in too early and were on the receiving end of a huff from the crew member doing our corridor.  We slinked off to the bar to pass the time before sneaking back in to find the cabin ready.  After a days riding we were ready to use the shower which was rather impressive and Robbie went straight to bed and sleep while I took in the evening air.  The forecast sea conditions were Smooth to Slight and it proved to be that, I was only woken once by the movement of the ship and was woken for the morning by the Breton wake up call when "Dremmwel "Lans" part N° 4 "Troellenn" is piped into the cabin.

Misty Morning in Portsmouth
From the cabin I could hear and out on deck I could see that we were sailing through a thick fog up the Solent so none of the sights were to be seen.  After disembarkation I forgot that my bike computer wouldn't correct its time until I had connected it to the phone.  We went looking for Cafés and I started getting confused as to why they were all closed at 8am.  Of the few sights to see in Portsmouth none of them are particularly accessible if you've a bike with you either and the historic dockyard an spinnaker tower were out of the question.  Eventually we found the Gregs and Robbie was itching to get back to London to meet friends who were there.  I decided to find something to do until the train we were booked on rather than pay and rode round the coast to the Hayling Ferry and back, I had half forgotten that it was an English bank holiday and unlike in Scotland where most people don't even know when the equivalent local holidays are, most people get the day off so the beach was busy and the food stalls were doing a roaring trade.


I then stood and watched the hovercraft arrive before heading for Old Portsmouth to watch the ferries sail up the Solent and pass the time of day before heading for my train.


Mont St Michel Sails into Portsmouth Harbour

Touristic Road Rat
I caught the train to London and found Robbie and Stan at the Whole Foods in Piccadilly where I had a late lunch consisting of some weird London food, I guess they need to eat healthily to make up for the damage the manky air does.

Two of Robbies other friends arrived and we set off for a bike based cycle tour, sadly I forgot to restart my Wahoo at one point so I've just got a long jump from Picadilly to Tower Bridge recorded, I have no idea where I was or went but Stan was leading and seemed to know where we were going as we hopped from Cycle Super Highway to Alleyways and Courtyards.

Robbie received a text from Serco about our sleeper having a fault in the kitchen, sadly the level of maintenance in the old carriages is clearly as poor as the quality of what they've been delivered in the new ones and it was to be a drinks only service in the lounge car.
So we did as anyone else would in this situation and got a Nando's in for the journey!

In the Lounge car it was was a full house, with travellers for Fort William also using the Aberdeen lounge car until Edinburgh it was a very social affair. I got talking to a German tourist who avoids flying and likes to visit football grounds while on holiday, ideally with West Ham.
Robbie went to bed first but I stayed up talking until I was tired and got another good nights sleep only waking around Crewe and at Edinburgh before waking again somewhere just before Montrose where I decided it was time to get up and sit in the lounge car until Aberdeen.

I'd booked a ticket from Aberdeen back to Dundee to save myself the 5am wake up call, so while Robbie headed home for a shower and a quick blat to work I sat down to a Lorne Roll in the pumpkin Café and waited for my train home.

The End

Paris - Brest - Paris 1200 and a bit more: 13 to 27th August 2019 - Part 2 the ride

The Bike Check

After the ride down in glorious sunshine I woke to the sound of rain battering off the window of my hotel room and an impatient housekeeper knocking on my door.  In the breakfast room a collection of dejected looking cyclists from around the world were chewing their croissants and pain au chocolate looking wearily into the rain.

Part of the queue
For the Vedettes and Touristes it was bike check and registration day so riders slowly dripped out into the rain and headed for the Bergerie where a line of cyclists stretched along the muddy and cobbled roads waiting to have their bikes checked for loose baggage, functional lights and over length tri-bars before queuing to get their documentation sorted out..

The line moved orderly but slowly towards the marquee, riders from all over the world were around showing different approaches to dealing with the wet weather. The CTC Highlanders randomly appeared under the trees beside the queue, this was ideal as I'd been in contact about meeting for lunch but hadn't had the latest update, meeting at the station at 1. I could only hope I'd be through the check and registration by then.


Getting closer
The queue wound on, and turned into the marquee, when I got to the front the checker gave various bits attached to my bike a shoogle to see if they fell off, tested the brakes worked and then asked to see the lights on. I demonstrated the battery front light and then went to spin the wheel for the dynamo, the USB Werk was stealing the supply for some reason so I disconnected it and tried again with a "hm, I'll need to sort that" thankfully it worked and I wasn't sent to the shop to get an extra front light, the rear lights were an easier proposition as I had 3 battery lights and the dynamo so I just switched on 2 of the battery lights.

The checker pointed to the saltires on my bag, "l'Ecosse?", "Oui", he smiled, then a sticker was put on my frame and I was given my ticket for registration and sent on my way with a merci and a bon route.

Crammed into a barn to register
I parked the bike and took my Carriadce with me so I didn't have to haul documentation out in the wet, and American rider started speaking to me pointing out he knew I'd speak English because of the Carradice; it's a very British style of luggage that some American companies have also adapted to suit their market.  He said he normally asked for photos of people in their kit but as it was raining everyone was hiding under rain jackets.  I had decided to get my travel clothes wet rather than kit so he wouldn't have got the desired photo of me anyway.



After talking I joined the registration queue and entered the barn, only once I was in there did I discover that I had joined the wrong side of the queue for my start letter and so swapped sides, many others were doing it too and I saw a sign being hastily prepared for erection outside.

In front of me a group of VC167 riders I know, were gaming the queue so that AUK Chairman Chris would process their registration and get a good chat in at the same time, I wasn't so bothered about who processed me and got one of the locals who had just started, this resulted in a slightly drawn out process but all was good in the end and I soon had my documentation which I stuffed into the bag for later processing and rode into town to meet the Highlanders.

Velomobiles parked up
I got to the station just before 1 but there was no sign of them, as it turned out I was there first as Andy, Iain and Tony soon appeared stating they had no idea where Mark was and his phone was off, ideal since he was organizing!

Eventually Mark, Finlay, Darren and Kenny arrived and the hunt for somewhere to eat was on, the Café at the station was mid-refurbishment, so we went on a tour of the town, finding a Creperie and made actions to sit outside, the waiter appeared and started talking at us which turned out to be along the lines of "you idiots your mate has sorted a table inside for you why are you wanting to sit out in the rain" or something like that anyway.
I messaged Robbie to say where we were but he was still up at the Bergerie getting sorted out.

Mark and Ian had a table inside for us and started doing the translating and ordering for us too, I had my usual scan of a cheese laden menu before finally finding something I could eat without fear of the consequences.  Robbie was still up at the Bergerie when Élaina arrived, unfortunately there was no space at the table or inside and she ended up waiting for him outside. We all had a mix of bike check times and Mark, Darren and Finlay all set off after eating, just in time for Robbie to arrive freeing up space at the table of them. I ordered another coke and a pudding Crepe but only the first part of the order arrived which was a tad annoying.

A direction Sign
After lunch I needed something to do and a poster on YACF had identified there is a model railway in town so I went to see that, sadly the garden railway wasn't running due to the rain, I'd left my camera on the bike and I forgot the name of the café I'd get a free lunch at with my entry ticket.  It's a nice wee museum showing the collection of a townsman that was bequeathed to the municipality and only cost  €4 to see.  The rain finally stopped in time for me to head back to the hotel; I decided to grab something quick for tea and visited the burger joint next to the hotel followed by the creperie down the road to get the Banana and Nutella crepe that never arrived at lunch time, then returned to the hotel to watch tv and sleep.


The Ride

Rain, again.
I woke to the sound of rain battering off the window of my hotel room. I needed to be out the hotel by 11 so it was going to be a long day, I took my time over a large breakfast as dejected looking cyclists from around the world were chewing their croissants and pain au chocolate looking wearily into the rain.  Once I'd had enough of sitting in the room waiting for the housekeeper to get impatient again I took the bike outside and sat with some other riders on the windowsill watching the rain.





The rain reduced to a drizzle which was good enough for me and I set off into town to get lunch which ended up being a mix of pastries from "Paul" and a Carefour Baguette which I ate on the benches outside the church as families left following mass.  There wasn't much point hanging around here so I went up to the Bergerie, the rain was off fully now but the cobbled roads and courtyards were still very muddy. I parked up and had a hobble round the stalls in my road shoes, back at the bike I looked at the imprint in the ground and realized I'd lost my cleat covers.  I started to repeat the route I'd walked and quickly found one of them, but the other was no where to be seen.  I repeated the whole loop pushing the bike and then as I passed the place where I'd found the first cover I spotted the other.  With the sun now out properly I propped myself on a wall and started to be sociable with the various Scottish and Northern English riders who kept popping up allover the place; over the period of the event I only failed to bump into two of the Scottish riders I've spoken to over the last couple of years, Michael and Douglas.

Ron and Graeme waiting to start

I started to get worried that I hadn't eaten enough, and with my start time being tea time I wouldn't get a chance to eat properly again until Mortagne, so I went to the BBQ grill for chips and sausage, Pete was there having food as well and amusingly had chosen to wear a convict jersey for the event on the basis it was the closest he had to an Onion Johnny jersey!  Ron was also there, as one of the faster riders I only ever see him before rides, PBP would prove no different on that front!




I realized that time was disappearing faster than I'd hoped and the chances of an afternoon nap were gone. Murmurings started around those amassed that no one knew quite where the start was and the first of the Vedettes were due off soon; someone dug out a laptop and I quickly realized I was in the wrong place and it wasn't too long until my start time; I rode down towards the Chateau and found the mass of riders. The letter H was held up by someone at the front, the mass moved and the letter J appeared... There must be another mass, I pushed past people down the hill and found someone holding up the letter I in front of another mass of riders, I realized that this must be where K will be and pushed on.  My phone buzzed in its pocket and I dug it out to find Robbie asking where I was, I started to explain then spotted the "share location" button so hit that instead just as Graeme appeared. I barged across the road and we headed to the back of the I pack; a couple of riders I knew had L plates and I pointed them to the top of the hill where I'd just come down for their start before joining the mass jostling at the back of the I's where Robbie found me, a number of American riders had managed to be around us and Robbie started critiquing their style amongst other discussion topics; this would not be the last I'd see of these American riders on the route.

General view of riders waiting to start
As the group shuffled forwards Robbie and Graeme were sucked forwards as people pushed in front of me and I was surrounded by the Americans as well as a few Canadians; suddenly we were moving faster and the words "We're running late so you just go once you're stamped" were being muttered by marshals to us.  The line thinned out into 3 as we went through the stamping control, I hopped on the bike and I started my first Paris-Brest-Paris Randonneur.




Outbound


Leg 1 - Ramboulliet to Mortagne

Distance of leg: 118km
Time Taken on leg: 4h 41min
Riding Average Speed for leg: 25kmh
Time in Hand on arrival at Mortagne: 3h 9min

Early scenes from the road
The road out of the Bergerie was a mix of tar, gravel and cobbles thankfully the control station was keeping riders split up so I had a reasonably clear run, a handful of spectators lined the road cheering as I battered on along it with one thing in my mind "Catch Robbie and Graeme", I was riding fast, possibly too fast. The electonic timing station was a surprisingly long way from the control, the arch over it and the podium where dignitaries stood watching and cheering along with more locals.  I caught a bunch of riders just before the gateway out onto the road at the cobbled corner, took care over the cobbles and then set off up the hill and out of town towards St Leger that I'd ridden down on the Friday evening.

I knew from descending it that it was a good shove up, I knew I shouldn't be going so fast but if I caught Robbie and Graeme I'd be with riders whose riding I know and am comfortable with and more importantly set a higher pace that I tend to set for myself.  As I ploughed on I was passing other riders up the hill, riders smaller than me, riders lighter than me, riders I shouldn't have been passing up a hill!

I pulled onto the front of the group like I meant it and a couple of other riders got on the front while others squeezed in behind. They were obviously also wanting to press on. We reached the top of the hill, and some of the riders in front were going slower than I like, so I pulled out and went round them only to be hit by a short rise I hadn't noticed. I'd no choice but to dig in again as riders had tagged on to me and I couldn't block them by slowing down.
Finally the top of the climb came and I could ease off on the effort but I still keept the speed up, ahead of me I could see similar jostling for places and I guess it was the same behind; riders subconsciously try to find their place in a pack of riders with a huge variety of abilities. In St Leger we were pointed round the one way system and then onto the road west.

Later on as the sun was sinking
I kept on at a pace, there was a good range of riders around me and most importantly a lot of them were tall so I could catch the draft.  I got speaking to an English rider who was keeping the same pace in this pack, the road rolls, I had to dig deep on the climbs but on the descents I could just roll them, a lot of riders around seemed a bit hesitant to descend.  The group continued to haemorage riders, some go off the front, some off the back and eventually we started pick up riders from the back of the wave in front.




The sound of a siren came from behind and the Pompiers drove past in their Ambulance, over a crest and out of sight, a few rises and falls later and I could see the red van ahead parked at the top of a rise, blue lights flashing, as we passed them the Pompiers were tending to a rider who had hit the ground. Their arm held in a sling as they were assisted into the Ambulance, their ride over already.

The roads nadgeryness started to increase, the long straight descents gave way to twisier ones. I'd wheel sucked and followed tall riders into a group that seemed so good but as we reached the top of a rise I suddenly noticed we were slowing down for the descent. We were doing 20kmh, I had the brakes on and I was still catching the rider in front.  Despite being in the right hand line there was no rider to my left so I pulled over into the left line looked behind and pulled out, staring down hill at a wonderful twisty and steep descent. I didn't just let go of the brakes I mashed the pedals too.
I flew past the front of the group, round a series of bends and started to climb again, keeping the power on to avoid being swamped, some of the faster climbers from the group caught me but I avoid being swamped by the rest, this continued with a few more of the rises and falls but every time less riders caught me.

Into the night
We passed through Coulombs and started the long drag up to Mortagne, some more faster riders passed including some from the L start wave but generally I was in a gap.
In villages kids put their hands out for high fives, adults offered water to those who had run out. I thought I had enough so there was no need to stop, but I knew I'd need to put my Hi-Vis on soon but I didn't want to stop to do it.
I'd placed the Orange mesh vest my bag so that I could haul it out and get my arm through the left hole easily enough but I struggled to push it over to the right arm, the wind, stronger than I thought wasn't helping. Another rider came up laughing, "I've been watching you trying to do that and thought I'd better help" he held the vest so I could get my right arm through; I thanked him and then we chatted for a bit before the terrain suited him better and he disappeared off into the sunset.

I soon realized my light was flickering and I started to worry that the fix was failing on bumps, but then I realized there were no bumps and anyway it was at too steady an interval for that, I determined that it must have been the USB-Werk recharging it's capacitor so either the wire did not have a good enough connection to run both or it was starting to fail since nothing was connected.
I tried to disconnect it on the go but the connectors were too good a fit to do one handed so decided it would have to wait until Mortagne.

A couple of wooded sections of road showed just how much the flickering was going to irritate me so I put on the battery light to fill in the gap, turning it off when I was back out in the light of open sections and on again when I hit the twisty descents just in case it went at a critical moment.
Small groups came on the flats and went on the hills, and before long I realized I was going to need a comfort break and that I was getting hungry. At Loingy some riders dived into the open shops but I carried on, knowing it wasn't too far to Mortagne, but just after leaving the town I had to stop for that break, groups of riders flew past as I relieved myself and I thought I'd never catch Robbie now, not knowing that as I stood at the roadside, in one of those groups Robbie had passed me.

Mortagne Café
From here the road climbed and fell repeatedly until the plateau on which Mortagne sits was reached, a large group of Japanese riders were are around me, they appeared first as individuals off the back of the group some hugging the white line in the darkness, others struggling up hills that seemed ominous for their chance of success.  The bulk of them were just in front of me as I entered Mortagne and they stopped at a patisserie that was open for business, I decided to eat at the "welcome site" instead as all the shops were busy.
As I leant my bike against the wall of the school Robbie was returning to his bike and said Hi, I asked him how long he'd been there and he said it was 15 minutes and was about to leave.

As I had just arrived and needed to grab something to eat as well as fill my bottles we agreed he shouldn't wait.
I headed for the food shack after filling my bottles, the servers were slow and faffy, and it seemed to take ages to get something, as I ate the ham baguette I'd purchased I realized I was going to need something for later in the night, so went back to get a baguette for my bag, and then went and explored the control, this all wasted precious time.
I spent 37 minutes stopped at the control before rolling on into the night.

Leg 2 - Mortagne to Villaines

Distance: 99km
Time Taken: 4h 30m
Riding Average Speed: 23.5kmh
Time in Hand: 4h 35m

A food stop in Vivoin as a rider slept
I slipped into the night with a handfull of other riders at ten to midnight, my light flicking issue resolved with the USB-Werk's wire disconnected from the generator.  Things were a lot less manic now, on the descents I picked off individual riders, on the climbs individual riders picked me off.

We rode into the La Sarthe department and round the edge of Mamurs, I thought to myself about how I got into this madness.
A grainy VHS video of the 1988 Le Mans 24hr, the year the WR Peugeots set the fastest speed ever on the Hunaudières, the year Porsche's unbeaten run for 9 years was broken by the TWR Jaguar XJR-9, all commentated on by two partisan commentators cheering on the Jags.
The closest I'll ever get to racing at LeMans is spectating and I suppose this madness.

I passed through a town called Dangeur, not the last to amuse me for reading like and English word and to Vivoin where I decided it was time to eat my baguette.
In the town square in front of the church a rider lay sleeping on the steps, I stopped, leant the bike against a wall and stood and ate the baguette as riders streamed past in the night.  It was only 10 minutes stopped in a 100km leg, but it felt like it had been longer, my average speed since leaving Mortagne severely dented, I was unaware I'd lost so much elevation and from there I hardly noticed I was climbing through the sensory deprivation of the dark warm night.

Villaines La Juel
As it turned out the road rose gently and fell rapidly, the descents coming as a surprise but I couldn't see the speed reduction of the climbs nor feel them in my legs but I could feel the effort in my empty belly and emptying bidons.  Stupidly I passed by locals with bottles of water and cakes on offer, I still had water and it wasn't too far, I could push myself another 20k to Villaines before eating, and I did, but I arrived with empty bottles and an empty stomach, a mistake so early in the ride.  The first open shop I saw was a Patisierie so I went in with many other riders and bought a very early breakfast before heading up to the control with the intent of bouncing it.

The control, the first of the ride was set with the bike park on the street outside the Hotel De Ville, despite the early hour some locals mingled, I got my card stamped, filled my bottles and paused, I needed to eat more so I found the "fast" cafe where I bought some carbs and sat down to eat.

In total I was 47 minutes stopped at Villaines, between the shop (7m) and the control (40m) it seems a long time to do not very much but this would become the pattern, I wasn't even having to queue all that much either.


Leg 3 - Villaines to Fougeres

Distance: 90km
Time Taken: 4h 11
Riding Average Speed: 21.2kmh
Time in Hand: 4h 40m
Sleep During Leg: 15m

Ambrieres-les-Vallées
It was just after 5am when I left Villaines on the road to Mayenne, at Loup Fougeres the locals had put on a display of flags around their stall but no one was there at this hour to serve us.  The route turned away from the Mayenne road and over a hill, a sustained 100+ meters climb before plunging down to L'Aisne, at Lassay-Les-Chateux there was nothing going on but then at Ambrieres-les-Vallées I found a café with riders stopped at it for Breakfast so I joined them.





Unfortunately I only had a 50 euro note on me thanks to my choice of cash machine earlier in the day, the rider next to me saw it and commented that this could be interesting and madame gasped in horror when she saw it, I had made a similar noise when I saw it come out the machine! However she found the appropriate change and I ate my breakfast at a table and then the next thing I knew I was lifting my head up off the table and worrying about the time.

The road climbed back out the valley of La Varenne before descending breifly to pass through Gorron, on a long straight stretch of road after a slight descent I was riding along on my own when the whirring of a large group came from behind me, riders streamed past in a jumbled line, suddenly in front of me a rider pulled out of the line and sat up, hands off the bars decelerating rapidly. Even as I applied my brakes hard the rider was getting closer, with what felt like millimeters to spare I looked to my left and shouted "HAW!" as I jinked round the rider forcing the riders passing me to also take evasive action thoughts of hopping on the back changed to thoughts of avoidance.

I saw a sign for La Tannierie and remembered there is a crepe stall there, but the stall and village were deserted; disappointed at the lack of crepes I rolled on.  At Le Loroux with no fanfare I entered Brittany, unlike at home where a large sign welcomes you and the road surface changes usually with a major bump, the road transition was invisible and signage limited to a small indicator of the department.
Fougeres

Brittany started with a gentle 60m climb, which set me up nicely for the long descent into Fougeres, on the road in to town I spotted a Lidl and realized this would be an ideal spot to grab a second breakfast and some supplies for the road, loading up on more pastries and a bag of Haribo for the back pocket.
I ate the breakfast before carrying on into the control where I bumped into Ian who had arrived seconds before me, I had a mini panic at this as I knew he had started about an hour behind me, then I remembered he's a much faster rider than me so catching up an hour in 16 wasn't too bad.
Despite the breakfast only minutes before I went straight for an early lunch in the "café", somehow I spent almost an hour here even though all I remember doing was controlling, eating and filling my water bottles.

Leg 4 and 5 - Fougeres to Tinteniac then on to Quedilliac

Distance: 81km
Time Taken: 4h 43m
Riding Average Speed: 20.7kmh
Time in Hand at Tinteniac: 4h 33m
Time in Hand at Quedilliac: 4h 43m

Riders passing through Sens-De-Bretagne
The route out of Fougeres was scenic, both in the visual and climbing sense, we rode up past the chateau and over the motorway into the country side, as I entered a town I saw a small supermarket and thought I might stop, then I saw what looked like a market in the town square. It was getting warm so I stopped to put on suncream as riders bought fruit from the stall. IT was getting warm and my skin was getting warmer I realized I needed to put on some suncream, and then realized I didn't have enough suncream to last the ride so popped into the village pharmacy to get more. €13 for factor 50 seemed a bit steep but then carrying factor duffle coat is a bit impractical and with the exchange rate not in my favour I couldn't expect much else so I bought it.

I returned to my bike and one of the riders had bought too many grapes, he asked the group gathered if anyone wanted the left overs and of course I offered to take them off his hands. He made a quipp about it being a Scot who was quick off the mark for a freebie, I didn't bother to add the usual line about being a Fifer.

Riders passing through Sens-De-Bretagne
While standing around somethings caught up with me and I spotted a toilet at the other side of the square, now I've heard stories about french public toilets being terrible, and in some ways this was a relief it was clean, covered and it even had a throne rather than being a squatter but there was no toilet roll so I resorted to the tissues I carry for this purpose.

I carried on having spent 30 minutes in Sens-De-Bretagne, there weren't many people out spectating by the roadside or offering food and drink, it was after all Monday afternoon, however occasionally people driving around were shouting encouragement from their cars a novel experience.
Back out in the countryside I rolled over a level crossing and I noted the name was Dingé another amusing one for me as Urban Dictionanry puts it:

2- (verb /adj) 'Dinghy' 'Dinghied'. Scottish. The act of being ignored, ignoring or intending to ignore or someone or something.

Well I'd hardly spoken to anyone for a while, maybe I was being Dinghied?

Sense-De-Bretagne
At Tinteniac only 55km since Fougeres I checked out the control layout as I arrived and parked the bike near the exit; with a bit more walking than I'd have liked but it was very busy with a party going on at the stage to add to the entertainment of the locals.  I decided there and then to bounce it, I grabbed my water bottles and went to find the control and water supply which were at opposite sides of the square. Despite the walking I took only 16 minutes here which was much more like what I'd been aiming for at the other controls.  I could bounce this control confidently because I knew it was only 25km to the non-control rest stop at Quedilliac where I was counting on it being quieter.  I did not know there was a significant climb to Becherel mostly in fields and in the heat of the afternoon the sun, I struggled up this hill and then enjoyed the descent as best I could.




The Quedilliac centre was indeed quieter, I stopped, parked the bike and looked around trying to identify the location of things, people lay on the grass sleeping, people sat at tables sleeping or eating, I didn't look properly at what was being eaten.  I'd wasted some time finding the food and once I'd found it the non-cheesy choice was poor, a plate of plain box pasta with a slice of ham on it. Having ridden through town and now unsure of when I'd next find food I had no option.

After the feed I considered a snooze so sat down on a bench outside but soon realized that with the sun beating down this wasn't going to happen for me, after just over 50 minutes of faffing I got back on the road.

Velomobile on the road

Leg 6 - Quedilliac to Loudeac

Distance: 59km
Time Taken: 3h
Riding Average Speed: 19.5
Time in Hand: 4h 59m

Breton muisc
Amazingly after the plate of disappointment I didn't stop for the 3 hour ride to Loudeac, I wondered when the fabled Britany rollers would start, unaware that I'd been riding them all day.  Dave had told me earlier in the season that I shouldn't have a problem with them as I'm used to steeper ramps but that was before he found out how badly I climb.  The 2/3% climbs and descents were hardly noticeable on the road but looking back at the speed profile I was crawling up them in the mid-teens.
I've also since learnt that there was a strong head wind all the way out to Brest, oddly I should have known this from the hi-vis incident on the first night however there wasn't much gusting so I just thought it was air resistance!

At one point after Quedilliac I was rolling along a long straight road when I felt ominous spits of rain on my hands and face, the road was wet and riders ahead of me were stopped under trees putting their rain jackets on, I thought about taking a picture but decided against it as I looked at the sky and saw the sole grey cloud in the sky fading away to nothing.  I knew there was no need to stop.
Even if it'd come to a bit more I'd probably have kept the jacket off, the afternoon heat would be unbearable in even a lightweight rain jacket and my kit would have dried out in it anyway.
I hear other riders behind me particularly the 84hr riders later at night weren't so lucky with heavy ninja showers and even some electrical activity attacking them.

St Menee-Le-Grande Hotel De Ville
At St Menee-Le-Grande I passed the Hotel De Ville with the turreted turrets, Disneyesq I've seen it called, there wasn't much else going on.  This section was perhaps surprisingly uneventful given the events earlier in the ride, through Meneac and La Chezé and up into Loudeac.
On the way into the Loudeac control I managed to be following a local rider who was being cheered on by friends as he arrived this included the Marshall at the roundabout just before the control, unfortunately he decided to ride to the marshal which involved being on the wrong side of the road and nearly crashed into a car approaching the roundabout from the left.  I was expecting it to be a normally left driving randonneur that I would see making this mistake.

The ride into the control also included a bizzare section of cyclo-crossing to get up to the bike park from the lower assembly area as well a left hand riding layout through here just to spice things up a bit.  It was early evening and there was a big party going on, the control was spread out round the bike park which at face value seemed a good layout but it took forever to get across as the marshalls were controlling the crossing of the 2 active lanes in and out of the bike park and you had to cross it.

I only controlled and filled my bottles but it took 25 minutes to walk across the bike park, round the side of a building, shuffle through the building to the control desk and get back through the bike park to my bike.  As it was so busy I decided again to bounce and go to the welcome centre at St Nicolas.


Leg 7 - Loudeac to St Nicolas

Distance: 44km
Time Taken: 2h 37m
Riding Average Speed: 18.2kmh
Time in Hand: 5h 3m
The Bretons like to put on a show
On the way out of Loudeac I realized that if I found anywhere to eat before St Nicolas I should probably take the opportunity.  The first place I reached was a restaurant, there were bikes parked outside and riders inside, some eating, some queuing to order.  I decided this was going to take too long and left cursing the 5 minutes I'd spent parking and investigating.  I spotted some old railway carriages and railbuses which were parked next to the line on the way out of town, I considered stopping and trying to get a photo but then remembered I had time pressures.



I rode back out into roller country, at Treve locals were standing on the decking outside the Tabac.
I stopped and lent the bike against the supports and ran in, ordered a coca and realized they also doubled up as a shop, I had a look round and grabbed some sweets and cakes for my bag and pocket.  The road undulated into the darkness, at Corlay the shops were open but I knew it wasn't far to St Nicolas at all so settled for stopping there.

As I rode through St Nicolas I worried that I was going to miss the welcome centre particularly since stopping wasn't compulsory however as I rolled down the hill out of town a man in hi-vis was standing in the middle of the road shouting "contrôle secret" and pointing us into the college grounds.  After the experience at Quedilliac I was slightly apprehensive about what might be on offer but I needn't have been.  The control also very well set out, we passed through the card stamping desk on the way into the bike park and then all the facilities were directly across a small tarred area from the bikes with the doors wide open.

A German Triplet
I wandered in and found the café was directly in front of me and the water supply and toilets were just off the main area, the restaurant was off to the side and I could see riders picking over items on a counter but I stuck with the baguette, I emptied and then topped up and got some food in. After eating I sat on a bench next to the door thinking I'd grab a quick snooze, but if I slept I didn't notice.

Somehow this stop consumed 55 minutes, I suspect with getting so far into sleep deprivation everything took me longer than it felt and having a good hour would have helped massively.


Leg 8 - St Nicolas to Carhaix

Distance: 32km
Time Taken: 1h 37m
Riding Average Speed: 20.5kmh
Time in Hand: 4h 48m
Sleep: 1h

I didn't stop on the way over to Carhaix in the dark, this section was one big stretched out hill with rollers all the way. And with it being so short it's hardly a surprise the near 1hr stop at St Nicolas dropped my time in hand by 10 minutes from the previous control and 15 from St Nicolas.

Carhaix - Sleep where you can find space
Carhaix is one of the controls notorious for being very busy so I was worried about how much time I'd lose here.
I was directed round to a room at the side where the control was and I shuffled through, from there it was a choice of doors, one outside and the other led into the self-service restaurant where there was a short queue to stand in to get food but after a quick scan of what was on offer I decided it was for the better if I ate a decent meal since I was standing drooling over the sight of it.


After selecting my food I looked for a table, I scanned the mine field of riders asleep on the floor or with their heads on the table looking for a seat then tip toed my way between sleeping riders and immovable seats to a clear space.
After eating I reviewed my time in hand and decided I had enough to take an hours sleep, set the alarm on my phone and then put my head on the table.

French on the left, Breton on the right, you can see how the name was adjusted to suit french

Over all the Carhaix stop took 1hr 37m, but with the first period of reasonable length sleep it was well worth it, the aim now was to climb the Roc Trevezal and get to Brest with as much time in hand as I could.

Leg 9 - Carhaix to Brest

Distance: 90km
Time Taken: 5h 48m
Riding Average Speed: 19.2kmh
Time in Hand: 3h 44m
Sleep: 10m
The keek o' day at Sizun

As I was preparing to leave the warmth of the college, I saw Jon who was on the retour already, hes one of those riders I only ever see at the start of rides or where the outbound and inbound routes mirror, so I wasn't too surprised.
I stepped out into the cold night leaving sleeping riders behind, a marshal and a rider were talking as I entered the bike park and I went to find my bike, even after so long in the control I had no issues remembering it was at the back wall roughly in the middle this was one problem I was told to beware of but not once did I struggle to find my bike. I put on my PBP yellow hi-vis vest this time as it was much colder tonight than before and the lack of ventilation would be a bonus in these conditions.

I had 3 hours 11 mins in hand now, still a comfortable amount of time, I rode through the cold darkness of the countryside and small towns, I was well fed, awake and had water so I didn't see a need to stop at the cafés that I passed with sleeping riders in the seating outside, or hunched over the counter.  The route crisscrossed with the return route and I saw the some of the fast riders returning from Brest of them Richard and Ron passed me in the night.  Their lights came down the hill at speed, some silent other than the whirring of chains and freewheels, others offered a "hi" or "bon nuit" through the darkness.

The top of the Roc on the return
I stopped just before Huelgoat and I started to wonder when I would start climbing the Roc Trevezal proper. I could see houses in the woods in the moonlight, and then I saw the light of the top of a transmitter, I had been climbing the Roc and I was nearly at the top, I'd expected more, I'd expected it to be harder, I'd expected it to be more like the Red Stane Rig, climbing through a town then out into the bleak openness of a Scottish hillside, but this, this was just a rise in a vast expanse of rises.  The darkness had taken my perception of speed away so I had no idea I'd been chuntering away in the low to mid-teens for an hour.


Pont Albert Louppe
At the top there was a motorhome and gazebo with two men tending to anyone who stopped, water and food on offer, I stopped and tiredness hit me.  I pointed at their sun loungers, "Can I sleep?", "How long?", "10 minutes".  I set my alarm and then shut my eyes and drifted off.

I woke just before my clock hit 30 seconds to go, the man was waiting to wake me; "you're awake already", "yes", "remember us on the way back up", "I will"


I set off at speed down the hill towards Sizun as the sky started to lighten, the chill of the night cutting through my arm warmers but despite this my fingers were fine in the mesh backed mitts I was wearing my hands have been much colder this season.
At Sizun a number of riders were stopped in the cafe and patisierie when I got there, I joined them first in the patisierie for a croissaint and then in the café where I had a cup of tea for the warmth.
I left Sizun after half an hour, with the sky much lighter but the air still much colder than I'd expected, I made a note to not spent too long at Brest as I'd be back here around lunch time given the distance and my progress.

Pont Albert Louppe
After a short descent from Sizun the route returned to more undulating countryside, and more villages. For the first time I noticed properly the signs cancelling the Priority route on the entrance to villages and that every commune seemed to inform you in a different manner that Prioritie A' Droit applied.  I crossed the motorway to Brest and picked up the old road alongside, through more villages.  No one was standing around to cheer as I passed through, car drivers seemed to be less patient of tired cyclists, we were no longer in rural France but on the approach to the land of an uncaring urban mass. I annoyed them by missing the exit of a roundabout outside a Super U hypermarket, delaying their pre-work shop by seconds.  I found the exit to the old road and it started to plunge down below and away from the motorway, I passed a well, a toilet and a monument, a 30kmh speed limit and a ban on cars and motorbikes, and then the trees gave way to views of the sea and of the Pont D'Ilroise as the parapets of the Pont Albert Louppe took over from the terrain.

I was finally on the bridge, the landmark that signals the arrival into the Brest area and a high point of the journey.  The bridge is younger than PBP having been opened in 1930 the year before the first PBP Randonneur and was named in memory of the Mayor of Brest who was responsible for its construction and missed seeing it opening by 3 years.

Pont D'Ilroise from Pont Albert Louppe
However the bridge didn't become part of the route until 1979 when a rejig changed the Randonneur route from the busy N12 road to the country road route I was riding; the UAF still use a variation of the N12 route for their PBP but as that's a group ride it's easier to marshall with safety vehicles at the front and back of the groups.
I stopped to take pictures, the low morning sun shining through the wires of the Pont D'Ilroise made it difficult take pictures of the more modern bridge, and for me to see properly as my glare problems hit hard.  I rode on as the bridge was swarmed with riders and started the climb into town.  I was aware that the town sign was in a nondescript location by the side of the road and was looking out for it to get a photo.  That done I planned to ride into the control, sort stuff out and get on the road.

As I climbed up in a bike lane as work bound traffic passed me I spotted a patisserie, I decided I needed another breakfast, that would help speed up the control time too I thought.  I climbed on through the centre of town until the road started to drop down to the control, I parked up quickly enough and controlled.
I decided it was time to change kit so I went straight to the toilets and multi-tasked, dealing with two issues at once, i thought I was being quick, I somehow took 55m over the Brest control despite spending all the time either next to my bike faffing or on the toilet.

Outbound Ride Stats:

Distance: 614km
Total Time: 38h 19m
Riding Average Speed: 21.4kmh
Moving time 28h 44m
Stopped Time 9h 35m
Sleep time: 1h 25m
RWGPS Link: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/39156669


Retour

Leg 10 - Brest to Carhaix: 
Distance: 84km
Time Taken: 5hrs 20m
Riding Average Speed: 19.8kmh
Time in Hand: 3h 27m

A Breton piper not playing
Wondering how I'd spent so long I rode out of the control, a rider asked me if we were crossing the bridge again as they hadn't stopped for a photo, I had to disappoint them, the route out of Brest was punctuated by traffic lights, heading North East along the river rather than back towards Plougastel.

I got to Sizun just before 1, a late lunchtime but as predicted. I went to the Patisierie again for a sandwich and cake, the villagers had put a marquee up and were serving drinks and cake; riders swarmed the various shops and Cafés and I wandered around taking pictures.  It was a long stop of 45 minutes, eating into my time in hand once added with the long stop at the control.

Somewhere on this section where the routes overlap, I approached a junction down hill, a marshal had stopped a group of riders on their way to Brest to much consternation as he waved me across the junction.

Sizun in daylight
Just after leaving Sizun I took the chance of a comfort break, as I stood next to the bike I saw a white jersey with black checks and yellow arms rise from the grass just up the road, I got back on the bike and rode up to the rider as he set off, "I thought I recognised a West Lothian Clarion Jersey" was my opener, I recognized the John too from the Galashiels qualifiers, we got talking and rode up the Roc together, I saw it this time of course and realized that there were houses all over it, even just off the summit.

For the return the road to Carhaix was a wide single carriageway but quite busy, thankfully the french drivers were mostly good though we were also passed by an Ambulance with motor cycle outriders, a slightly worrying occurrence particularly since there seemed to be a long gap in traffic to go with it.
I said goodbye to John as the hills got steeper and he was riding stronger on them, on the way through Carhaix an old tank engine stood at the side of the road and then I stopped at a bank to use their ATMs which required me to enter the bank, it was slightly odd staggering into a bank branch with its well dressed staff and customers.

Riders at Sizun
At the control I took 52 minutes, I must have eaten again after controlling.
As I prepared to leave the control a man stood watching riders walking in pointing people to the control, "Controle, Controle, Controle Allemange, Controlle Uni-Royalle, Controlle American" he spotted an Australian, "Australien.... Controlle Doping" and so he went on from there riders being chosen at "random" for the "Controlle Doping", every Australian and Russian got the Doping but no Frenchman.



Leg 11 - Carhaix to Loudeac:

Distance: 90km
Time Taken: 5h 10m
Riding Average Speed: 19.4kmh
Time in Hand at St Nicolas: 3h 52m
Time in Hand at Loudeac: 4h 15m

It was now the mid-afternoon, I left the spectator to his amusement. IT was another mostly uneventful leg, passing through the Breton countryside, the road rolling upwards and downwards rather than steadily rising and falling.

Riding through a forest
At St Nicolas du Pelem as I was anticipating the stop was the secret control again; the layout had been rejigged, now you rode into the bike check and then to exit for the facilities it you had to control.  I went into the café it wasn't as busy as the previous night and I got food quickly and sat at a table, a German rider asked me how I was getting on and how much sleep I'd had.  He struggled to understand my sleep deprived and garbled Fife-Scots-English mess of speech. I saw his confusion "Ein Studenen Funf and Vierzig Minuten", this helped. I'd finished eating so said "tschüß" and set off for my bike. As I walked back through the control the marshalls were making sure that no one missed the control to the point I was ready to show them the stamp in my Brevet card.  As I pushed the bike out the controller checked my bike number with my lid number and then said something I didn't understand. "huh", "Go!" I presume he said it was ok to go but even though it was just after 6pm it could have been an instruction to put on my hi-vis as some marshalls are overly insistent you put them on far too early. 17 minutes well spent, I don't know how I managed to be so fast this time.

Somewhere out of St Nicolas another rider passes me and says something about "Special dispensation" but I have no idea what he's on about but make an assumption it's to do with not yet having my Hi-Vis on, it is getting closer to night time now and I put my mesh Hi-Vis on at a comfort stop.

Climbing Roc Trevezal with John
I recognized Treve as I enter it and sure enough the Tabac is open, a handful of locals, I parked my bike against the decking's supports again but this time one of those gathered spoke to me.
"What do you want?"
"Coke" I said forgetting it's Coca
"That won't help you!"
"Sorry I mean Coca"
The Coca in Coca-Cola refers to the Coca leaf extract used in the original formulation, this extract does naturally contain some Cocaine in it, however it's apparently long been removed from the Coca-Cola formula.  Being wired on "coke" may have helped later in the night, but some of the other.side effects along with the long term effects wouldn't have made it a clever option.

I left the Tabac without anything from the shop as I knew I was coming to the control soon, I rolled into town past the railway yards and the café which was busy again.  Down into town and into the college grounds, the cyclo-cross section again being left side riding and I parked up.  Again it took some time to get through this control, it was busy again but the party wasn't quite as crazy in the square below.  Again I got stopped while waiting to cross to the control.  I decided again to find somewhere else, this time because I was fed up of control food.

Carhaix train
I spotted a Tabac with riders eating food at the tables but the food was from a takeaway down the road, I found the takeaway and scoured the menu, mexican chicken, perfect, "15 minutes, nom?" the woman gasped and grimaced as I said my name and handed me a bit of paper to write it on. Of course my name is from the Irish branch of Celtic and not the Brethonic, and one of the few that doesn't appear in Latin. As I waited another rider arrives, this time a Ukrainian, the gasp, grimmace and process was repeated.
15 minutes later I was sitting outside the takeaway eating the mexican chicken with my spork, I was gone by the time the Ukrainian. However it was worth the wait and extra time to eat as it was probably the best meal I had on the road.  My time in Loudeac was long at an hour and 10, but 3 hours was the comfort zone I wanted to work with so it was fine.


Leg 12 - Loudeac to Tinteniac:

Distance: 87km
Time Taken: 4h 25m
Riding Average Speed: 20.47kmh
Time in Hand passing Quedilliac: 3h 33m
Time in Hand at Tinteniac: 4h 16m
Sleep time: 3h

A church before night fall
I left the takeaway just after twenty past ten, I had no hint of tiredness, under the street lights all was good but as I entered the darkness I saw in my peripheral vision a well known sight, I could see my shadow.  This of course when there is no external light source strong enough to cast a shadow is impossible, however I can usually get rid of it my adjusting my glasses this worked.  A line of riders stretched out into the open country side, tail lights as far as I could see.  The road started to climb through some trees, the trees messed with my perception and I thought I was riding through a city with tall skyscrapers, the glass walls emitting lights way above me.

Some of them crossed over the road forming a tunnel, I rode through a village and it stopped and back out into the country side it started again, suddenly I was very tired and hallucinating.
The lights of La Cheze woke me up and I didn't stop despite seeing a church doorway and a bank lobby.  Exiting the village I was back in the urban jungle, lights high above me, I had to stop.

I spotted a junction with a sign I could lean the bike against and some grass I could lie down on.
I laid my bivvy bag out and set an alarm for 15 minutes and lay on the bag.
An hour later I woke up, I was freezing cold and shivering violently, I'd made a major mistake, I thought that not getting into the bag I'd wake up when I cooled down or the alarm went off, which ever came first, but instead I slept through the alarm repeatedly and the cooling.

Chaos at the Tinteniac bike park
I shivvered my way to the bike and looked at the clock, I'd lost a lot of time, I started to wonder what I was doing, then realized I needed to snap out of it and get going.  I looked at my mesh Hi-Vis and then the PBP Yellow one and realized I could help myself hold in more heat by wearing both at the same time.  This I figured from a newspaper article I once read about how Rab C Nesbits string vest worked, apparently the gaps in the string vest would trap warm air, if that was the case placing the solid vest over the string vest should allow a lot of warm air to get trapped.  It seemed to work.

Ten minutes on the road and I was riding through Plumieux, I saw riders sleeping in the warmth of bank lobbies and doorways, if only I'd known...  The distraction saw me take a wrong turn.
My tunnel of buildings didn't reappear so the hour must have done me good and knowing that I needed to make up time and remembering the outbound meal I didn't stop at Quedilliac.
I didn't know at the time that I'd already got an hour of my time in hand back, I got a near clean ride through to Tinteniac, an odd 1 minute stopped at the graveyard, it could have been a stand or a faff with something.
At Tinteniac the bike park was hoaching near the control but quiet at the far end, I knew it would mean more walking but I had worked out I was back up past 4 hours in hand.  I was very tired.

Tinteniac Food
I found the control and then looked for the toilets, I couldn't find them. I went up stairs and found myself at the self service restaurant and the food tempted me in.  Amazingly Robbie and Aidan were there, fresh as daisies from a 4 hour sleep. I spoke to them and in my memory Steve appeared as they were leaving however this is not the true sequence of events as there must have been a reasonable gap between the 2 as neither saw each other all ride. I ate my chicken and tatties, pain au chocolat and Paris-Brest pastry and then put my head down for 30 minutes.  I think it's this point Steve actually arrived, apparently I was still very sleepy. I decided to have another hour and a half on the floor.


Leg 13: Tinteniac to Fougeres: 

2h 54m, 20.2kmh
Distance: 54.4km
Time Taken: 2h 55m
Riding Average Speed: 20.2kmh
Time in Hand: 2h 27m


Riding out of Tinteniac as the sun rose
Morning was breaking as I left Tinteniac at 0650; the closing time was just after 8am, I only had an hour in hand, thankfully this was one of the easier sections and the average speed required between controls was really easing off now, down to 13kmh for this section.  Back through Dingé and Sens-De-Bretagne, At Saint-Hilaire des Landes a Boluangerie had a series of bikes stacked against the wall and a queue of riders in side, I stopped for breakfast. Fougeres arrived again with the chateau looming large, I had gained more than an hour but I spent most of it at the café again.  As I returned to my bike Darren and Finlay arrived, I spoke to them and discovered that Andy U had packed quite early on and was on the train back to Ramobuliet.

Leg 14 - Fougeres to Villaines:

 6h 14m, 18.8kmh
Distance:
Time Taken:
Riding Average Speed:
Time in Hand: 2h 12m

Levare
I'd been dreading the climb out of Fougeres since Tinteniac as I'd got them mixed up in my memory, it was a long slow start to the leg.  At La Tanniere the Crepe stall was open, as I stopped Michael rushed up to me to say Hi as he'd spotted my Saltire jersey and we got talking, he even sorted out the Crepe.  He handed me the slip with the address to send the postcard to unforutnately I managed to lose it somewhere later on.
At Levare, I'd spotted an old direction post on the way out and had to get a picture on the return, a local then offered to take a picture of me with it, how could I say no!


Ambriess
I carried on to Ambriess where having not recognized the town on the way in, I saw riders at a supermarket and stopped with them to eat for 20 minutes. However when I finished the descent into the town centre I saw that café again, I stopped intending to make it quick after the shop stop but I found myself stopped and speaking to James for half an hour as I ate yet more food.  James was in a later start time and was going well but wasn't sure about an injury that he was exacerbating.


At Loup-Fougeres the locals were out now but I was more interested in their decorations as being fed and watered I knew I'd get to Villaines Ok.

Into the control at Villaines
At Villaines the locals were out in force, after parking the bike on the street I walked through a sea of cheering locals up the steps to the hotel de ville where I got my card stamped and water bottles filled.
I decided not to stop again, it took 20 minutes just to negotiate the control and water supplt and then I rolled on into town where I got another bottle of Coca at a Tabac and then went to the Carefour Express, an English rider was looking into the sandwich cabinet and looking at me said "This is more like an AUK Control than the real one"; I agreed and picked at Sandwich and Ice Cream to eat outside.
Villaines party

I stood and watched riders for a bit longer than I should have too but kept the time to 40 mins.


Leg 15 - Villaines to Mortagne:

Distance: 84km
Time Taken: 5h 25m
Riding Average Speed: 20kmh
Time in Hand: 3h 34m
Sleep time: 1h 20m

Passing a velomobile on a climb
Setting off from the Carefour I had around an hour and a half in hand and would be riding into the night again, I remembered that both Villaines and Mortagne were at the top of hills so knew I'd be descending soon before climbing again.  Not far out of Villaines I was caught and passed by a VC167 rider Andy as the road turned upwards for a bit, I latched onto him with a bunch of other riders.

As we strung out behind him a tall rider twiddled past and then sat alongside Andy, Damon pulled out the video camera and started talking before recording him reciting some Laurence of Arabia. As this was happening another rider came up alongside me and looked to go through the gap so I put my hand out and said "Interview".  With the recording done Damon put the camera away and put a bit more power on and disappeared into the distance passing a long line of knackered riders seemingly effortlessly.

Velomobile back in front
I stopped for around 9 minutes at stall in La Hutte and then for 20 minutes at Sant-Calex-en-Saosnois for a sit down on an electrical cabinet and to put on my Hi-Vis set up again, I knew I was going well along here so felt I could take such breaks off the bike.

After darkness had closed in a small group of Americans from Washington state in group L passed me at a speed that seemed only marginally faster. These guys do Randonneuring in style, Robbie tells me it's part of American cycling culture, they rode classic steel bikes with classic styled leather bags and most importantly wore a classic Blue wool jersey with the words "Seattle Randonneurs" woven in block capitals, they just looked the part.

Interesting headwear
I'd come across them on a couple of occasions as they passed me and I passed them in various locations. Having seen them riding I knew they were good, and I cheekily hopped on the back for a bit.  As I followed them, a bright light shone in the distance, as we approached on a small climb it started to cause me problems, a rider  was working on his bike at the side of the road, from the front of the group came the words "Can you turn that light off so people can see please", very polite, I had been swallowing a "Gonnae no blind people ya ----". I thanked the rider on the front that.

At Mamers I spotted a cash machine and detoured to it so I had some money for the control at Mortagne.  I'd made up good time and gained 2 hours, when I got to there and I found everything had moved since the Sunday night, whats more I had to find the control, thankfully I found it inside the school building where everything had been moved to. It was very warm inside, once again I got myself a good feed and then remembering the previous night decided I had time to sleep here.  Most of the floor and table spaces were taken but I got 20 minutes with my head on the table and then decided I could take longer so went and found a nice spot on the floor that had just been vacated for another hour.

Leg 16 - Mortagne to Dreux: 

Distance: 77.5km
Time Taken: 4h 11m
Riding Average Speed: 20.4kmh
Time in Hand: 3h 33m
Sleep Time: 1h 15m

On the way to Mortagne
After sleeping for so long I had just over an hour in hand when I woke, I had a bit of a wander around and then as I was preparing to leave I saw Kenny, Finlay, Darren and Tony getting ready to leave too.  They'd also had a sleep but had arrived about an hour after me, I spoke to them and learnt that since we met at Fougeres Mark H had packed, I decided to join them and waited for Darren to faff as he got ready to go.  It was another cold night, my original plan at Mortagne had actually been to snooze next to the bike for a few minutes before riding to Dreux but had abandoned that idea after popping out to the bike briefly and feeling the chill.

Eventually we were all ready to go and rode down the hill, I was speaking to Kenny as we went, but after a while Kenny realized that Finlay wasn't keeping up so dropped back as they'd agreed to ride together.
Having only just joined them and being on a tighter schedule I decided to crack on alone.
The heat of the control had dehydrated me and despite the chill night I had used up most of my bottles in the first 30km.  As I rolled through Neuilly-sur-Eure I saw that the Patisierie and Tabac had a stall out at the roadside, so I bought a bottle of coca and one of powerade to refill my bottles then added a light breakfasts to the menu.

Another from the road to Mortagne
In Senoches there was a marquee set up with locals filling drinks bottles and offering seats and tea, I took a tea and sat down, I didn't doze off after the tea so knew I was good to go on.  The rollers had stopped and I could see the road ahead clearly, it felt flat but in reality was marginally down, as I rode through the night a rider from New Hampshire called Eric passed me on a really nice Blue and Yellow steel framed bike, as he passed I said I liked his bike, I was expecting a breif thanks but he was up for talking, he was in an 84 hour group and was hoping to set his best time, I found I could keep his pace so we talked as we rode through the night. WE rode into Dreux together and I said goodbye there as I knew that with the time he wanted to set he wouldn't be long at the control.

Dreux


The Dreux control had a long walk between the bike park and the control which was in the space under the terracing of a sports stadium, this also meant there was decent changing and toilet facilities though the food was average.  I knew I could have bounced the control but I wanted to finish in daylight, so after eating I got my head down for some more sleep.

Leg 17 - Dreux to Ramobulliet: 

Distance: 44km
Time Taken: 2hrs 11m
Riding Average Speed: 20.5kmh
Time in Hand: 3h 21m

I woke just before 7 giving me 5 hours to ride the last 44km, the ride out of Dreux involved a couple of stiff climbs and traffic lights where I found myself riding with a group of riders from the south of England out of town and into the sunrise.
The morning mist hung low on the ground, the air was chill and the speed was decent as we rode along the flatland, at Faverolles and Poingy there were execuses to stop but I didn't take them.  THe riders I'd kept up with on the flat dissappeared up the hill into the forest.  The forest seemed to take forever to ride through, but eventually I reached the junction with the road into Ramboulliet.
The cobbles came but the gate wasn't open, the arrows pointed into town, riders stood by the side of the road confused as to how to get in, I just looked for signs and saw the route in was the same as for bike check.  Riders and spectators stood in small groups beside the motorhomes clapping, marshals pointed me up the hill and onto the gravel track, I thought I passed a timing station and then through an arch. A mass of riders stood over the road and a marshal was pointing me into the courtyard, a bizzare wee loop took me through the real timing finish but it wasn't over yet.

Pete took a picture of me as wheeled my bike
in/
I was pointed into the bike park and told the control was in the Marquee... 4 different finishes?!

Pete was wheeling his bike out of the park having finished in the early hours of the morning had had a decent sleep and was looking rather chipper, I was well...

I staggered across the field to the marquee and into the Brevet stamping station, the controller took my card and handed me a finishers medal and explained when I should get the brevet card and then looked at me and said,
"Ah you're from Scotland l'Ecosse, Oui?",
"Oui",
"Beautiful country"
He paused and then said "so this was just as you say a Wee Ride",
"Aye just a wee ain"



Pete had a good sleep after finishing the early morning

Retour Stats:

Distance: 612km
Total Time: 47h 26m
Riding Average Speed: 19.8kmh
Moving time: 30h 50m
Stopped Time: 16h 35m
Sleep time: 5h 35m
RWGPS: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/39156700

Overall Stats
Distance: 1225km
Total Time: 86h 32m (chip time)
Riding Average Speed: 20.6kmh
Moving time: 59h 34m
Stopped Time: 27h 5m
Sleep time: 6h 50m
RWGPS: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/39156327





Graeme and Rob at the start





Aftermath

After leaving the control I bumped into Lucy who said she and Dick were about to eat with the VC167 riders in the marquee, so I went and joined them, though just as Lucy arrived we were kicked out as hogging tables with so many riders finishing wasn't on!

I left the marquee and messaged Robbie from a phone with next to no battery left to see where he was, he'd been at the Bergerie overnight as he'd finished very early in the morning and slept in a corridor he'd found.  I tried to explain where I was and he tried to explain where he was but that didn't work, so I found a spot under a tree in the sun, placed my Hi-Vis as a pillow and went to sleep.

Well earnt Sleep
After sleeping I was just preparing to leave the Bergerie whne I saw Robbie and Dean standing at the "finish" arch cheering on arriving riders, so I hauled myself over and soon more VC and Scottish riders were joining us.  A good little group of us congregated after finishing, Esmond arrived and as he sat against the hedge started pondering how much the spectators meant their "Bon Routes" and "Bon Chances" and how much we were just their entertainment. I was a bit too tired for such deep thought so returned to cheering on finishing riders.

A Seattle Randonneur
Riders become Spectators

Assessment

Seeing these stats is slightly dissapointing, it shows I could have been faster, I spent just under 7h out of 20h stopped asleep.  If I hadn't faffed so much at the controls I believe I could have finished much sooner or got more sleep which also leads itself to being faster.
Although part of that is because when I got to Dreux I chose to wait until day break to set off so that I finished in daylight and therefore with people around, had I carried on from Dreux the question is would I have finished in the same time and so been almost 2 hours faster or was it the sleep that allowed me to ride the last speed at that pace?

Further to that, I've seen my average speed drop significantly through the year, I have not been working on hard efforts, not been working on climbing hills, not been working on hanging onto groups. I think by chasing 100 Audax UK Points and RRTYs I've altered my riding in a manner that is ultimately detrimental on longer Brevets where speed earns you sleep, so for next time I'm going to approach the year differently.

I write these blogs partly to remind myself of what I've done, but also to look for lessons learnt, so in 2022 as I pre-qualify for 2023 I hope I read back over this and set up a different season structure so I can see how well I can ride.