Paris Brest Paris 2019 at the heart of the legendary cycling event
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The Paris Brest Paris Randonneur is the legendary 1,200 km ride to be completed in less than 90 hours. For this 19th edition, nearly 6,700 cyclists will depart from Rambouillet between Sunday, August 18 at 4:00 p.m. and Monday, August 19 at 5:30 a.m.
Among the new features of this legendary ride are two major advances:
- participant tracking with a map on the web
- permission to ride with handlebar extensions.
... and a notable change: the departure is from Rambouillet instead of the National Velodrome in 2015, and the Gymnase des Droits de l'Homme in 2011. Cyclists are thus more quickly on major roads, without the uncomfortable kilometers of "getting out of the city".
This story relates to my third participation with a departure on Monday morning at 5:00.
Rambouillet Domain
Two-thirty in the morning, the alarm goes off. Did I sleep? It seems not. I went to bed a 8pm, I think I couldn't find sleep. It's a nice debt that will be added to the one I'm going to create in the next two nights.
Well, we're on PBP, so let's go. Christian is already awake for breakfast, he's been on the lookout for the preparation of PBP 2019, the 19th of its kind, and my third departure. Coaching is a great art.
At three-thirty in the morning, we leave the Parisian suburbs for the Rambouillet Domain. We don't take the D906 and the Chevreuse Valley as we have done for the past few years of cycling with the AS Meudon, but we take the highway in a vehicle. The latter is equipped with a bed and food and other materials to support a cyclist from Paris to Brest and back. It's luxury, isn't it?
On the National 10, we overtake a few cyclists who are heading to the departure site having slept somewhere in the vicinity of Rambouillet. At 4:30, we are at the departure site.
The brevet cards are stamped in the light of the cyclists' headlights. The control attendant has trouble verifying that she is going to stamp the right box. With only 15 minutes left before departure, I meet my companion on the right, as agreed, and he is lit up with a headlamp. We talk about this and that, or rather other things than Paris-Brest, and the pressure doesn't rise. We set a meeting point, incidentally, for 140 km away, at the Mortagne-au-Perche control. Things are less burdensome to carry when you put less weight on them, and Christian masters the art of lightening what needs to be lightened and supporting with precision a what needs attention.
Departure at 5:00 a.m. on Monday morning
Rambouillet Monday 19 - 5:00
The start is given in the dark of night to the rhythm of the pace-setters on motorcycles. The descent on the cobblestones to exit the estate and the distance to come make the first hundred meters quiet. The asphalt arrives, groups form. Cyclists move up the peloton from the left to position themselves at the front, as they would in a cyclo after taking the wrong starting chute. Let's go!
It's rolling fast, gaps are forming, and here I am in peloton 3 of this Monday morning 5 o'clock start group. I stay in the wheels even though "it's rolling at 30". However, I make sure not to push myself too hard. This spring, the 600 km brevet return at over 30 gave me the right sensations, even though fatigue was there. So this 30, it's going well, I'm confident.
There isn't too much nervousness except when I find myself in a group with Americans. At the slightest slowdown, obstacle on the road like a speed bump, a lane that narrows, it shouts and the brake kicks are too abrupt for a cruising speed. I let this group go, too nervous and tiring for a 1,200 km. The wind blows in the well-known plains that lead to Les Bréviaires, I take shelter in the wheels.
At kilometer 60, there are cyclists lying on both sides of the road for about ten meters. There was a serious crash. I won't mention what I saw in order to quickly forget the images. The group is a bit shaken, but slowly regains its pace.
25, 27, 30, the average speed increases and in three hours, 90 kilometers are covered. Irish cyclists take the lead and eventually fly away. Then, Austrian riders join me. Their level is varied, but it's a good group. We ride together to arrive at Mortagne-au-Perche.
Mortagne-au-Perche, Monday 19 - 9:01- 9:25
There is no checkpoint, but for me, it's time for lunch. I make a quick call to Christian and find the vehicle. A big pasta salad is waiting for me in a relaxed atmosphere. With a fleece blanket over my legs, I eat while telling about the first fast hours. Next stop is Villaines-La-Juhel, then Fougères for the second meal.
I find myself in a diverse group, with foreigners and a Frenchman who is pedaling excessively. We ride together in groups of three or four. In the hills, we use bigger gears and sometimes smaller gears, but only for long hills. The Frenchman in the group points out that pulling hard has a quick and direct consequence. I don't know if he's talking to me or if his subliminal message is intended for the foreigners in the group, because one of them is always using the bigger gear. At an intersection before Villaines-La-Juhel, I turn a to see if anyone is following. The peloton has silently grown from 4 cyclists to dozens.
Villaines-La-Juhel, Monday 19 - 13:18
After Villaines-La-Juhel, we head towards Fougères. The wind is blowing against us and will be doing so for the rest of the day, according to the weather forecast. I don't want to ride alone. One experienced cyclist follows me, then two Spaniards join us. It's windy and I end up leading. Later on, the Spaniards take turns leading, even riding side by side despite the wind, then the fourth guy takes the lead, standing on the pedals using the bigger gear. Sometimes he ends up alone in front, after pushing too hard during a relay. The hills follow one after another against the headwind. I don't know if we're going to make it to Villaines like this, especially since one of the Spaniards puts in too much effort on a downhill and the group falls apart. Further on, I stop at a cafe to refill my water while the cyclist who was riding with us orders a sandwich at the bar. He seems to be lacking energy.
Fougères Monday 19 - 17:02 - 18:20
New meal stop after the checkpoint. I am exhausted from the wind and not eating enough. Pasta is not enough to cover my expenses, honey water and Saint-Yorre water are not helping me pedal well. I tell Christian that the back of my knees hurts. I think it's an injury that appeared in the last 15 days due to a saddle change that I had to make reluctantly. When the saddle hurts you three weeks before a mythical event, you have to make the right choice and adjustment.
Tinténiac Monday 19 - 20:34
On the way to Tinténiac, 70 km away, after the stamping, the direction is set to Loudéac, we enter the heart of PBP.
The clouds are gray and it starts to rain. My raincoat is not in my bag. I then find shelter under the bridge that I passed three hundred meters ago. Other cyclists do the same, it will make a nice little group to reach Loudéac. Night falls, lights are on, and the small group moves slowly.
Loudéac Tuesday 20 - 0:40 - 4:20
Loudéac arrives, what do I do? I will eat for sure, but where will I sleep? Here or in Carhaix, knowing that the upcoming stage is a rollercoaster type? My legs hurt, I will climb better after a "night" of rest.
During the meal, Christian confirms my tired look from the previous stage. So, I have regained some strength on this stage. I am too tired to sleep for only an hour and a half and decide to take advantage of two sleep cycles after another 400 gr of pasta. I have pain in the back of my knees and decide to massage them with tiger balm, which will have an effect during sleep, even though the night will be short. When I wake up, my right knee is painful, and I can only bend it while lifting my leg. I get up, stand up, and walk to warm up the muscles. I'm not sure if I can continue. If I call Christian at 6:30 am, he will meet me in Carhaix; otherwise, it will be Brest as planned. I get on the bike, and Christian will continue his night. The first few turns of the wheels are positive. On the flat, I don't have much pain, and in the hills, whether spinning or pushing hard, I feel good too... I'm thinking of Brest with a smile. It's 6 degrees, the day is about to break, and I climb in a standing position, and it's going well. It's going to be a beautiful day, Oliv', you're going to make it, my man, you're going to make it!
The fog is here, condensation is on my glasses, will I be able to see Mont d'Arrée?
Carhaix Tuesday 20 - 8:36
Carhaix is here, stamped and on the way to Brest. There are more cyclists on the road than last night. The Roc Trevezel looms with its long straight lines and headwind. Big gears alternate with small gears and I pass several cyclists who started yesterday. At the top, the view opens up magnificently onto a bucolic landscape, while in the opposite lane, cyclists are returning to Paris with the wind at their backs.
The descent from the Monts d'Arrée is done on the big gear and then the long road to Sizun begins. I then meet Marc from the Club de Vélo de Montréal, then later Jonathan, both of whom left on Sunday. Will I catch up with them before the finish... there are still 25 km to go before Brest, and I am excited about the upcoming U-turn.
Another climb and at the top, the eagerly awaited Albert-Louppe Bridge appears, meaning that Brest is not far away.
A cyclist whom I noticed in the 5:00 a.m. departure group leaves the small peloton on the right to join a motorhome parked in a supermarket parking lot. That comforts me.
On the bridge, cyclists take advantage of the moment to take photos. The low tide has caused the small boats to lie on their sides. Zen moment, I feel good after 600 km.
To enter Brest, there is still a climb, but alternating between the big and small gears is now almost automatic. The big gear first, then the gears.
Brest Tuesday 20 - 12:52 - 13:55
I pass the control to stamp my dear route card and then call Christian. He has found a superb parking spot, away from the tumult of passing cyclists. Christian congratulates me on making it this far, because this morning it was not a given. I tell him that we are going to be able to go all the way. This morning, I made sure to lower my saddle by 2 mm and the pain behind my knees, which is always present, did not get worse.
Luxury hotel on Paris-Brest-Paris
At the Brest control with Christian
The meal is euphoric and I gain strength that goes beyond the physical. Before leaving, Christian refills the liquids: a bottle of Vichy Saint-Yorre, a bottle of a mixture of water and honey or water and electrolytes, and then fills up the pockets with the very effective Meli waffles that have been accompanying me on all my long distances since their discovery in 2011.
I head back towards Carhaix with an appointment with Christian in Loudéac.
The road to Sizun is the first objective. Is the wind at my back? Hmm, not by much. We then join a road that crosses paths with the cyclists heading towards Brest, it's a real parade. Sizun is passed, the climb up the Monts d'Arrée presents itself, then the summit and finally the descent. The surface is perfect, I let the bike glide and approach 60 km/h. Since Brest, I have been riding alone but the sun dangerously keeps me company.
Carhaix, Tuesday 20 - 5:50 p.m.
A quick check-in at the checkpoint, which is set up in the middle of a bunch of world flags. It's great to see so much enthusiasm a the event. It's no longer a checkpoint, it's a place to recharge your batteries, your morale, and to meet some humans who are not on a two-wheeled machine. The road to Loudéac goes well via Saint-Nicolas-du-Pélem where it's possible to refuel. It's the same sequence of climbs and descents as on the way there, but in this direction, the rider's hair is blowing in the wind more often.
On the other side of the road, the last riders are heading towards Brest. Some left on Sunday afternoon and will arrive in Brest at the same time as the first ones take their showers at the finish line in Rambouillet.
Loudéac, Tuesday 20 - 10:00 p.m. - 11:00 p.m.
Another checkpoint stop and then dinner. It's late in the day. Tinténiac is 70 km away, then it's Fougères.
Christian suggests stopping at Tinténiac instead of Fougères, so I can sleep before doing the last 350 km of the last day. I approve of this approach and set off into the night towards Tinténiac.
A group catches up with me, I will finally be able to ride in a peloton. It's the mixed group of Randonneurs USA, but the first disappointment is that the cyclists communicate with each other in a loud voice, from the cyclist at the front to the one who is three rows behind. On the flat, we are going fast, a hill comes, we go from 25 or 30 km/h to 12 or even 10 km/h. I'm afraid of falling because we're going so slow. I go to the front and ride without pushing too hard. On the flat, the group catches up with me and I find myself in the middle of the peloton. An American cyclist taps me on the shoulder to tell me that my position in the middle of the group is blocking the line of cyclists who are actually riding by taking turns. The right line goes down while the left line goes up towards the front. I extract myself from the peloton again and decide to ride alone. The group catches up with me again, I let them pass and get to the back of the peloton. In fact, there are two groups, Randonneurs USA who ride in an organized way, and other cyclists who follow the group from a distance.
"We drove for a while until we arrived at Quédillac, where there were Paris-Brest-Paris tents, but without a checkpoint, only a refreshment stop. The Randonneurs USA group signaled to the left and stopped at Quédillac. I continued on my way, not without lowering my saddle by one millimeter.
I rode alone and thought to myself that the stage was still long but then I would be able to sleep.
Tinténiac, Wednesday 21 - 3:10 - 5:25: As soon as I arrived at the checkpoint, I ran into Clément from the Club de Vélo de Montréal. We talked for 5 minutes about our respective adventures and about the 12 other Quebec randonneurs we had seen.
I allowed myself 1h30 of sleep and after breakfast, I set off again after a 2h15 break.
The day was simple, I had 350 km left to go. 50 km to get to Fougères, then 300 km to reach Rambouillet. The next meal stop was in Mortagne-au-Perche, but I was aiming for Fougères with Villaines-la-Juhel. I forgot about Mortagne, it wasn't time yet.
A group of Spaniards with a Frenchman overtook me, and I took their wheels to ride out of the wind and the cold. We chatted between Frenchies about the pace, the fresh morning air, and the soreness in our buttocks. It was his first PBP, and I realized that riding with different groups and mingling with various pelotons was a valuable experience. The road to avoiding sore buttocks is a long one.
The group was moving well, then the Spaniards decided not to lead anymore. I took the lead, but they didn't follow."
Fougères Wednesday 21 - 8:00 - 8:15
The wind is still blowing against me, but now it's in the hills and under the sun towards Villaines. I stop to take off my night clothes as the sun begins to heat up. Groups pass by and in the hills I catch up to them. Finally, my saddle adjustment is the one I need and the struggle I feel in the sequence of hills is the lot of everyone.
On the road, a mileage is painted: 226 km to go to Paris. That's 6 for Villaines and 220 for Paris.
Villaines Wednesday 21 - 12:41 - 12:50
The Villaines checkpoint smells like the stable, there is excitement and a crowd, it gives me strength. I get my stamp in less than 10 minutes and don't linger at the checkpoint, I have a train to catch... 10 years of triathlon, that leaves traces to make transitions without wasting time.
On the way to Mortagne-au-perche, the time for the last meal is less than 70 km away. The road seems identical to the one coming from Villaines then the configuration changes and I feel a strange wind at my back. We cross a forest on a recently renovated road with a smooth surface, a real billiard table. A group of Italian cyclists is ahead of me, I catch up with them and take their wheels. A hill is approaching and everyone starts spinning, I do the same and eventually pass in front, I remove one gear, then another, and when I reach the flat, I put in more gear with the help of the wind, then remove another gear because I'm spinning too fast. A group of cyclists flies past me like airplanes, then with a new hill, they're within reach again, I keep spinning but on the big gear because the wind is pushing from behind, at the top, I remove another gear to ride at over 35. This quarter of an hour of madness gets me excited as I approach Mortagne-au-Perche.
Before reaching Mortagne-au-perche, I find myself in a peloton made up of Japanese cyclists. One girl, three guys, and they're fast on the flat, a real cyclosportive. I take their wheels because in the hills, the peloton doesn't climb fast. At the top, it picks up again, the gears drop and the chain clicks on every cog. In an aerodynamic position in the descent, then the road goes up again, the gears are changed again and with each new development the chain cracks, really! I can't stay in their wheels; the last cyclist doesn't ride straight but swings from side to side and their trajectory is not straight, it's a series of curves. Not wanting to do 1230 km on a 1220 km course, I let this group go, which is very dynamic and still full of energy, even wild...
Mortagne Wednesday 21 - 17:05 - 17:25
So here I am in Mortagne-au-Perche, just before the checkpoint, I come across Christian parked in an ideal spot. I head to the checkpoint, spot Olivier from the Club de Vélo de Montréal. The atmosphere at the checkpoint is full of positive energy, as we are getting close to our goal.
Arrival at the Mortagne-au-Perche checkpoint
With the excitement of riding fast, my pores are open, adrenaline is at its peak, and I feed off this energy. Parked in the shade, Christian has set up a table and offers me a royal meal with pasta, black pudding from Mortagne, and a Breton far. I am over the moon and store up my strength.
It's 5:25 pm, on the way to Dreux.
The exit from Mortagne is beautiful, we pass through the estate forest. It's uphill, the pavement is perfect, the moment is zen, and I feel so good, my legs are turning, my mind still thirsty for sensations. The forest is quiet, I ride alone on this beautiful road in the shade, recharging my batteries.
Exiting the forest, the road passes through fields. I move forward but it feels like I'm dragging on the rough surface. A group of cyclists is passing me and invites me to ride with them. We ride at 25 km/h, but the group is friendly. We reach Dreux at nightfall, guided by our lights.
Dreux, it's Wednesday the 21st, between 21:20 and 21:45
Drueux is the last checkpoint before the finish line. I use this time to recharge my internal battery and eat a banana and a raisin bread. Then, I gear up for the night with leg warmers and a jacket.
I leave at the same time as a small group, but they're not riding very fast. So, I speed ahead. The road starts to climb, and a Canadian cyclist passes me with an Irishman, another English-speaking cyclist, and the small group that I had joined earlier. We ride together up the hills of Dreux on a deserted road, going fast into the dark night. I take turns with the others to lead, and when it's my turn to fall back to the end of the group, I see that we're now only four.
Thanks to a doubt about the direction, the Canadian cyclist speeds ahead and we race to catch up with her. With the wind at our backs, we pass other cyclists like planes. We reach Poigny, then Rambouillet, and slow down to share our thoughts on this incredible PBP 2019. The city is there, and we ride along the illuminated road that leads to the castle. We make a final turn before entering the castle through a paved entrance. We still have two kilometers to go in the dark, amidst cyclists who have already finished and are returning to their vehicles, and camping cars that are assisting other cyclists. And there it is, the finish line, illuminated before us!
Rambouillet mercredi 21 - 23:44
I see in the light of my headlight a cyclist wearing the AS Meudon jersey, it's Christian. I haven't even landed yet and I hear cries of joy, it's Philippe, it's Gilles who made the trip from Paris to join Christian and welcome me here at the finish of PBP 2019. A huge joy fills me, that of success and that of friendship.
Arrival reception in Rambouillet
After the doubts, the morning fog, and the sun that beat down on my head, the human warmth feels enormous. The official PBP 2019 medal ceremony takes place after the last stamp on the route card.
Paris-Brest-Paris 2019 Medal
We spend some time together, the four of us, long enough to have a hot meal and to relive this arrival with fanfare.
Epilogue
Disappointment on the side of the Montreal cycling club's acquaintances with a cyclist arriving out of time, and another who had to abandon.
For the record, the Montreal randonneurs finished between 66 and 88 hours.
The next morning, the bike is dismantled and stored in its packaging to travel by train, heading to the west of France.
There is a project that is close to my heart, to make the trip between Biarritz and the Tourmalet Pass.
... and after Paris Brest
Once the legendary ride is over, the rider finds himself at a certain point wandering within himself. PBP is over, everything is packed up, what remains of the participation in this mythical event?
It is said that one must be crazy to participate in Paris-Brest-Paris, that's what we'll see: Paris-Brest-Paris, the days after
For a detailed commentary on the stages, passing times, as well as technical and clothing equipment, see the figures of Paris-Brest-Paris 2019
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