Neil Crocker's Paris to Brest and back, 2019

Fancy a ride?

Well then, let’s meet with the others at the castle.  It will be a longer ride than usual, 1215 Kilometres (755 miles).  Hills?  A few, totalling less than forty thousand feet, though, so don’t worry.  Pace?  Well, we have to be back in ninety hours.  Food?  Sleep?  We’ll deal with that as we go.

Some achievements deserve special acknowledgement, and the rest of this issue is given over to Wayfarer Neil Crocker, who this year completed the Paris-Brest-Paris (oh, and the thirteen practice rides, two of them 600 Km long)..........

Paris-Brest-Paris 2019    by Neil Crocker

In 1891 Charles Terront, a professional cyclist, and 206 other French cyclists set off from Paris to race to Brest and back to Paris, a distance of 1200km (750 miles). Some were using solid rubber tyres whilst others, including Terront, were using the new fangled pneumatic tyres. He won the race, arriving back in Paris in just under 3 days. 

The race was repeated every ten years until 1951. But now the ride is no longer a race and the aim is merely to finish. It is held every four years and organised by the Audax Club Parisien.

In August this year I joined 6000 cyclists from all over the world and set off from Paris to ride to Brest and back to Paris in less than 90 hours.

The Build Up

Last year I completed my first 600 km ride, half the distance of PBP, and finished with only five minutes to spare (See The Sou'Wester, March/April 2019). So I knew I needed to do plenty of training to stand any chance of completing.

In order to qualify I needed to do a series of audax rides at 200, 300, 400 and 600km but in addition I rode another thirteen rides, including a second 600km ride. I didn't seem to get any faster but it helped build my confidence and refine my riding position and luggage options.

The start was from within the grounds of the chateau at Rambouillet, southwest of Paris. I needed to be there on Saturday, the day before the ride, to have my bike checked and to register. After that I wandered around and met a few of the others riders I knew from previous audaxes before heading back to my hotel.

The main start was in groups of about 200 at 15 minute intervals in the late afternoon on Sunday. So everyone has to ride through the first night to build up enough time in hand before considering sleeping. My start time was 18.30, so on Sunday I had a late breakfast and lazed around at the hotel before checking out and driving back to Rambouillet. 

Finally 18.30 arrived and 200 eager cyclists from my start group streamed over the start line, along the cobbled tracks lined with cheering families, and out through the gates of the chateau onto the roads.

After all the planning, training, qualifying and getting to the start it was now happening. Only one thing was left to do - pedal to Brest and back. Nothing else mattered.

The Fast Start

The first few kilometres were hectic. Group riding skills were variable to say the least. Groups were forming and then breaking up frequently as people decided they wanted to go faster or thought they were using up too much energy and slowing down. After a while things seemed to calm down as the pent up adrenaline subsided and people settled into the ride.

I was going at a pace I knew I couldn't maintain for too long but I was enjoying it.

After an hour or so some of the riders who had started fifteen minutes after me started to pass. The first few were moving at a pace I couldn't manage but after a while a well disciplined group of about eight passed. "I'll have some of that", I thought and accelerated onto the back of the group. Luckily the rider at the back of the group was a big Danish chap who provided a lot of protection from the increasing headwind and I realised I was working no harder than before - but now doing 20mph! Also the two riders at the front of the group were riding side by side and seemed quite happy to pull the group without any rotation.

I sat in this group, passing lots of other riders and picking up a few, wondering if it would be like this all the way.

Unfortunately it didn't last. After about half an hour the discipline seemed to break down and the group fractured. But I had enjoyed the speed and the time in hand it had given me. I never did find another group like that.

Into The Night

Most of route so far had been on long straight roads, with few cars, and through the countryside but through every village there were cheering crowds at the side of the roads. As the sun went down the sight of red bike lights into the distance appeared. It felt good to see all the cyclists heading in the same direction with a common purpose. When I got to a roundabout at the top of a long straight incline I did an extra lap just to see the line of white front lights coming towards me.

After 118km I reached the first control at Mortagne-au-Perche where food was available. After problems digesting food towards the end of previous long rides, I had planned to stop at every control and have a proper sit-down meal wherever possible. So that's what I did, despite the queues.

I was back on the bike within 45 minutes and heading off through the night. It wasn't too cold and although there were no big groups to join my pace was still good.

I arrived at Villaines-la-Juhel (217km) about 4.20am with four and a half hours in hand having averaged 15mph moving speed since the start. Had I gone out too fast? Would I pay for it later on? I didn't know, but I did know another sit-down meal was needed so that's what I had.

The next section felt harder and I was riding alone but by 9.40 I was at the control in Fougeres (306km). I was half way to Brest and had only taken 15 hours to do it. So another queue, another sit-down meal, a sleep on the grass in the sunshine and I was on my way again by midday.

The Pace Slows

From here to the end of the ride my pace could best be described as 'slow and plodding'  or 'controlled' if you were feeling more charitable.

Soon I found myself in a big group of maybe thirty. We were all content to just pootle along chatting in the afternoon sun. No one was pushing the pace. It was just what I needed. I had time in hand and just needed some easy kilometres.

Sixty kilometres later I arrived at Tinteniac for another hour of queuing and eating, and 30 km later at Quedillac for food and a sleep on the grass.

The next control at Loudeac (445km) had really long queues so I pushed on, without food, to St Nicolas (488km) where I rewarded myself with two hours sleep in a real bed.

When I left at about 2.30am, Tuesday, it was surprisingly cold so I put on all my layers but was still a bit cold as the temperature got down to 4°C that night. I was glad to reach Carhaix (521km) to warm up a bit and prepare for the final push to Brest.

Between Carhaix and Brest lies the Roc Trevezel, at 380m the highest point on the ride. The gradients aren't very steep but it was a long drag to the top. The descent was long and fast, tempered only by the knowledge that in 80km I would slogging up it in the other direction.

There was a strange sense of elation on approaching Brest but I tried to remind myself that this wasn't the end, only the half way point. At the control I relaxed a bit more than usual and sent a few texts. I arrived in Brest in around 39 hours, spent about two hours there, so had 49 hours left to get back to Paris.

I hoped this would be long enough but didn't know how my body would react to the distance. I had ridden 600km four times before. In 2017 my Achilles tendon gave out on a ride, in 2018 it waited until the next day to tell me it wasn't happy, but the two 600km rides in June 2019 were completed without Achilles trouble. I was also wary of nerve damage to my hands and saddle issues.

So from now on it was a journey into the unknown. All I could do was keep eating, keep moving forward and hope everything worked out.

The Return Starts

The climb back over Roc Trezevel wasn't as bad as I feared and I celebrated at the next town with a visit to the patisserie and a rest in the sunshine.

On the first half of the ride I had eaten almost exclusively at the official controls but there were other options. All along the route people had set up stalls to help the riders. These varied from tables at the side of the road with bottles of water to marquees where whole villages had got together to have a party and were supplying barbecue food to anyone who wanted it.  On the return I made increasing use of these to lift the spirits and keep me going between controls.

As I entered Meneac at 2am on Wednesday morning, with the temperature hovering around 5°C, the streets were deserted but ahead I saw a light shining out. A garage door was open and a few cyclists were milling around. A family had set up a table in the garage and were serving food and hot drinks to passing cyclists. This was incredibly welcome. All they asked in return was that when you got back home you sent them a postcard.

All the controls were very busy and as well as queues for food there were people sleeping everywhere. Some headed for the queues for the dormitories while others made use of any quiet (or not so quiet) corner they could find. Corridors were full of bodies, some neatly wrapped in foil blankets, others looking as if they had just fallen and couldn't get up. Restaurants had people sitting with their head down on the table, or lying around the edges of the room.

When I had eaten at the Tinteniac control all these prime locations were full and it was still too cold outside to consider al fresco sleeping. However a friend pointed out an unoccupied area under one of the canteen tables. I thought there's no way I'll get to sleep there in such a noisy environment.

Two hours later I was awoken by someone pushing a chair leg into my back and walking off. I don't think they even knew I was there.

The day warmed up to about 27°C and I pedalled along feeling all was well with the world. I stopped at another roadside house with a display of all the postcards he had received after PBP four years ago. I found a couple from people I knew, had some coffee and crepes, and picked up an address for my postcard later.

The Home Straight

Slowly but surely the kilometres were passing and I was getting closer to Paris. I was getting to each control in time, eating and sometimes sleeping. Occasionally I was leaving after the cut-off time but knowing I could make up the time before the next control.

After 1000km I got to the town of Villaines-la-Juhel. It had been dark when I passed through here on the way to Brest but now at 6pm it felt like a full carnival was happening. The town only has about 3000 inhabitants but 400 of these were volunteering at the control. And it felt like the rest were lining the streets cheering on the riders, playing in bands or dancing. The small children were carrying trays for the weary riders from the canteen servery to the seating areas.

Everyone was involved and welcoming. It really summed up the spirit of the whole ride.

I had to push on but 5km outside the town, as the sun went down, I chose a comfy south-facing verge to have a snooze before the last night on the road. Wednesday night was just as cold as Monday and Tuesday and the roadside stalls helped when feeling low between controls.

The last control before the finish was at Dreux (1171km). I arrived here at 7.30am on Thursday and knew I had five hours before I needed to finish and only 44km to go. I felt a great sense of relief knowing that, barring disasters, I was going to make it.

Those last kilometres were undertaken more like a lap of honour with the pressure taken off. The legs felt good and I took time out for another patisserie stop for a final refueling.

I was soon back inside the chateau grounds, crossing the cobbles and across the finishing line.

Get the brevet card signed, eat a meal, have couple of hours sleep, catch up with friends, cheer the other riders in.

There was no enormous sense of elation. Just a feeling of satisfaction in a job well done, finishing what I set out to do three years ago.

A few stats.

Distance                      1215 km  (755miles)

Elapsed Time              88 hours 12 minutes

Moving Time               59 hours 19 minutes

Average Speed            20.5 kph (12.7 mph)

Climbing                     11,465 m (38,200 ft)

Calories Burnt             35,948    (according to Garmin)

Author: Paul James