PBP 2007 report

8.27.07
George and Lenny’s Excellent Adventure (no, not “Of Mice and Men”)

For those of you that have been following our progress at PBP this year here is a recap of the ride from my point of view, if you care to read it. (Gary, I know you’ll have a problem reading this so I’ll tell you in person.) We flew over on separate airlines on the Tuesday before the ride and arrived in Paris on Wednesday morning. We caught transportation to our hotels in the suburbs less than an hour away and spent the afternoon reassembling our bikes. We didn’t stay at the same hotel but got together for warm up rides on Thursday and Saturday. On Thursday we thought we ride out to a big local bike store for last minute supplies (I had forgotten my helmet at home—dooh!). It was only 8 miles away so no big deal and besides Lenny had his GPS. Well the ride turned out to be a 45 mile adventure in the countryside. We zigged when we should have zagged. I thought we were headed NE away from our hotels but Lenny had the GPS so who am I to question technology. At one point when we approached a BIG hill I suggested that we knock on the chateau door and ask for directions. Lenny didn’t think that was funny. Later on some Gendarmes that spoke English gave us directions and said we had a while to go. We finally got home and ate and rested the rest of the night. Saturday’s ride was with the Davis Bike Club from California. There must have been 50 or 60 people on the ride. We did the first few miles of The Ride to get familiar with the course. Nice ride through the Ramboiullet forest. On a different ride the same day a guy I knew from PBP 2003 broke his wrist in an accident so his ride was over after working for it for the last four years. This happened to several others as well. You have to expect it with 5,300 riders from all over the world. I felt sorry for them and for the riders that never got there bikes delivered on time. Some bought or borrowed bikes (from the riders that got injured) but I don’t think that turned out well.The Ride or how I did PBC (Paris-Brest-Carhaix):Everybody was a little nervous as the Monday night start at 10:00 approached. We were all talking about the weather. See the following picture: (http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=1175115320&size=o). Sure enough it rained just as we started. Our wave of 500 didn’t start until 10:50pm. We got out of town and we were drenched head to toe. Lenny and I started with some friends we made during the qualifying brevets (200, 300, 400 and 600K rides); Jon from NYC, Paul from Princeton and Maille from DC. When I was doing the qualifiers with Jon and Paul we would usually pick up additional rides along the way and name them Ringo so it was Jon, Paul, George and Ringo or in this case Lenny. Anyway, the first day, yes a full 24 hours had us where we were supposed to be in Loudeac, 280 miles from the start for our first sleep stop. We did almost a triple century in 24 hours before we rested and it was in the rain. We had to stop along the way to check into the controle points, to eat and replenish liquids. This all took time so our average speed suffered, probably 12 to 15 mph but we felt like we were moving and we were. At this point Lenny and I had hotel rooms in town so we slept there but Jon and Paul had rooms in the next town about 50 miles away so they went on through the night. I started hearing stories of people that were already sleep deprived and DNFing before the first sleep stop because of delays caused by the rain, flats and other mechanicals. I got to sleep around 1am on Wednesday after last sleeping on Sunday night into Monday morning. Lenny and I agreed to get a wake up call at 4am and be on the road by 5. I go down for a quick breakfast and there is no Lenny. I go to the front desk and ask to call his room—no answer. I go to the garage where they kept the hotel guests bikes and his bike isn’t there so I figure that SOB left without me. I hit the road at 5 with some guy from the hotel I had meet a few day earlier, in the rain and dark cursing out Lenny. Some hours later who comes up behind me and calls my name—Lenny. “Where the hell were you?” Seems Lenny can sleep though anything. He got three wake-up calls including mine and slept till 7am when the church bells woke him. His bike was left at the controle and not in the garage where it should have been. He’d hooked up to a train of fast riders and caught up to me some hours later, not to tough considering how slow I was going in the dark with poor lights and the rain. We rode the rest of the way to Brest together. Brest is the turnaround point of the ride so we were 380 miles into the ride when we stopped for lunch and some air for our tires. It’s now early Wednesday afternoon and the sun actually came out. I put on suntan lotion for the first time and it’s washed away in the next few hours from rain and sweat. I failed to tell you that on the way out to Brest there was a strong head wind and temperatures never got above the low 50’s. There where people getting hypothermic; sleep deprived and just plain looking like zombies. There were a number of accidents and one person told me there were at least two confirmed deaths; there were many, many injuries because of the conditions and people not being prepared for them. You won’t hear about this from the PBP website but the Randon thread in Google on PBP will talk about it if you care to find out more. My problems consisted of a stuck front derailleur from all the rain and grit kicked up during the ride, a knot in my lower right back, a strained left shine muscle and a swollen left leg and foot—not too bad considering. The front derailleur was a problem since the course is never flat. Lenny described it as death by a thousand rollers. Most of the long climbs never went above 5 to 7% but some of them went on for 10 miles straight—Roc Trevazal on the return from Brest. So if you’re climbing at 8 to 10 mph which I was doing at that point, you figured it out. Anyway, on the way out I had to choose a front gear to be in and I chose the big ring so on the climbs I’d be completely cross-chained and spinning a low cadence; not good for my back. It got especially hilly between Carhaix and Brest (52 miles each way) the turnaround point. Lenny pulled most of the way there but he’s no Keith. (Where are you Keith when I really need you? And Steve, Serge, Gary and Harold you would have loved these hills; only 7% max but try it after 300 miles, sleep deprived, wet and cold.) On the way back from Brest, I realized I was slowing Lenny down so I told him to go on without me. I had 5 hours in the bank, well ahead on time and was fine aerobically but my back was getting worse and as a result I was slowing on the climbs. I had already stopped at an earlier control to get some medical treatment which consisted of a back massage but it only helped temporarily. So on I went alone. I climbed the first climb out of Brest and thought it was the Roc but it was only a 3 mile climb and I was really slowing down; that’s where I told Lenny to go. Then the next climb was the Roc and about half way up a tandem passed me with a friend I had made back in Paris as the stocker. Mary Crawley from Pa. was the stocker; very strong distance rider. (I’ll tell you about the captain later, quite a story) They pulled ahead and stopped on the side of the road half way up the Roc. What could be wrong, they were one of the strongest teams on the road? She waved me over and said, “You look like I feel”. She was concerned that the look of agony on my face was sleep deprivation so she wanted me to sleep on the side of the road (We all carry space blankets for this purpose and on the last day especially you’ll see what we call baked potatoes on the side of the road). I explained about my back and said that I had gotten twice the sleep (3 hours) that I had gotten back in ’03. She understood and we all got back on our bikes for the next 5 miles up the Roc. At the top, above tree level, I stopped to put my rain jacket back on for warmth on the descent. You guys that like to go down hill fast would have loved this one; it went on for a long time. If you don’t like to go down hill fast your forearms would have been sore. There were stories of people going through a new set of brake pads on this one ride. I enjoyed the downhill and still had plenty of brake pads left. As I was entering Carhaix, the controle after Brest on the way back I saw my two friends Jon and Paul going out towards Brest. “This can’t be, they were ahead of me and now they’re not even at the half way point” I yelled hello and kept going. They turned around and caught up to me a short time later. “What’s up?” They were concerned about me after talking to Mary in the next town about half way back to Carhaix; I think it was Sizun. They thought I was about to die on the climb of the Roc from what Mary had told them so they came back 2.5 miles to check on me. There’s a lot of this looking out for your fellow rider in this type of event. (Gary—hint, hint) Well this was a downhill and I was feeling strong and even pulled them part way back to Carhaix. They realized there was nothing seriously wrong with me as far a sleep deprivation or conditioning so when I explained the situation I told them to go on over the next set of roller without me. But they stayed with me all the way back to Carhaix. Apparently Mary was still concerned. I stopped here for a full dinner; steak, fries and lots to drink. When I got into Carhaix I realized I was in serious trouble as far as continuing with the ride; my back was really knotting up now. You could actually feel this lump in my lower right side. I went to the medical tent again and they worked on me of over a half hour trying to release the knot—no luck. I had to DNF at this point since I couldn’t put any power to the pedals. It was dark and rainy and people later told me it was probably the best place to DNF since the night ride to the next controle in Loudeac was the worst part of the whole ride. After handing over my card and getting the massage, I walked outside the controle where the people riding with support had there vans parked. I walked up and down the street asking for a lift back to Loudeac where I had that same hotel room with all my supplies; change of cloths, toothbrush etc. I finally found someone from the Boston area that was heading back that night but I had to wait in the cold for a couple of hours until the last member of this squad got to the controle. I finally got to my hotel about midnight on Wednesday night. I checked back in and took one of the best showers of my life and Yvette scrubbed my back. No wait, that was a hallucination from the sleep deprivation, or was it real? I’ll never tell. I get out of the shower and started brushing my teeth when I heard a knock on the door. Who could this be? I open the door and there is Lenny in shock to see me. He’s thinking how the hell did George pass me in the night when I dropped him before the Roc. I tell him the story and he’s relieved to know he hasn’t slowed that much. He tells me that on the overnight leg between Carhaix and Loudeac he felt he was riding strong. He was passing people left and right, all his lights were blazing and he knew he had to be doing at least 17 mph, average. He checks his computer when he pulls in and he averaged just over 13 mph for that leg. “How could that be?” Lenny, it was dark, raining hard, you’re tired, hungry and probably sleep deprived and yes you were passing a lot of people but they were going slow because of all that. So considering the circumstances you were flying. You probably should have slowed down a bit for your own safety; you had plenty of time in the bank. So I spend the next morning touring the town. I’ve got to get back to Brittany, it’s lovely and I’d like to really see it sometime.
The reason I went back to do PBP again this year was for the experience of the ride and the support of the people of Western France (they consider themselves Bretons first and not really part of France). You’ll hear hundreds of stories of people out in the middle of the night clapping or offering food and drink to tired riders. In ’03 I heard two stories of riders being offered beds in private houses and barns to sleep in and a breakfast in the morning from complete strangers that couldn’t even communicate because of the language barrier. I’ve got to say I suffered and still feel the side effects but the experience of the ride was well worth it. I may not try it again since I’m getting old and feeble (right, Keith?) and I do have one under my belt so my name is in the Great Book. But, then I read the story about my friend Leroy Varga from Dover, NJ who is more than 20 years older than me and I think, why is he doing it. His first PBP was done when he was older than I am now but I think it must be genetic.

Follow-up: There were a lot of things that happened that I don’t recall completely of just left out because of fear of boring you. There were some strange machines on this ride; a push me/pull you tandem recumbent (one rider faced forward and the other face backward), an old bike that had to be pedaled backwards when going uphill to engage a lower gear, fully faired recumbents that look like torpedoes on wheels, triplets, a bike that you rowed like on a rowing machine in the gym instead of peddled, etc.

Injuries:
I still can fell the lump in my lower back but that will go away in time with some rest and stretching which we do at the end of rides, right Caribbean Soul? My left shine is strained and during the ride I couldn’t lift the crank on that side so you’d hear a clunk every time my right foot would come over the top and would catch up to the slack in the chain. The swelling in my left leg is going down but I have a picture of my right and left foot after the ride and you can see that the left is twice the size of the right. I have saddle sores; the lube was washed away by the rain. Steve, lend me some of your AD ointment. I have a severe case of carpel tunnel syndrome. It feels like someone is sticking needles in the palms of my hands.
So overall I had a good time and it was definitely worth it. The toughest part was telling my daughter that I wasn’t able to finish the whole thing. She said she understood so I guess it’s ok. Beth thanks for putting the word out to the troops. Laury, it’s time to start training now. You can do it. I’ll even volunteer to lead you out for the first day triple century if it’s not raining and cold.
They reported that the drop out rate was over 30% versus about 10% in ’03, the temperature lowest and the rain the heaviest in decades. A lot of people dropped out because they felt it was unsafe to ride in those conditions. (You really have to be prepared of all condition so that’s not really an excuse.) There were a lot of tired and unsafe riders earlier than usual so that was a problem. There were some people stopping the middle of the road with thousand of people behind them to fix a mechanical or wait for a friend (Gary-just kidding but it’s fun). Lenny was a beast on this ride; good work and thanks for the pulls.
Oh, I said I talk about some people. It turns out the captain of the tandem, Jeff Bauer, is planning to do RAAM next year with another guy I met while over there. Now get this, they are planning to form a two man team and ride across America on fixed gear bikes, no coasting, ever for three thousand miles. It turns out the other guy I met in Paris while going sightseeing with 7 others is named Kevin Kaiser from Georgia and came in first in the fixed gear division in just over 64 hours with one hour of sleep total—amazing. The winning group of 10 riders came in 44 hours (no sleep) and most of the field was in the 80 to 90 hour group. Lenny who did well came in around 84 or 85 hours; my other friends came in around 88 hours. On the second morning of riding I had left Loudeac at 5am when it was still dark and raining and was riding up a small hill when I saw what looked like some creatures from the movie “Alien” coming at me fast. They looked really big and moving at me at about 30 mph. They were all in a straight line and each had a big spot light on its head and one down lower to the ground. You’ve got to realize there was no ambient light, I was tired and there was a misty rain. They whooshed past me like a freight train. It was the lead group of 10 riders heading back to Paris escorted by a car in back to provide extra lighting so they wouldn't outrun there own lights when doing 30 mph in the dark and wet.
Well that’s it. If you’ve read this far, what the hell is wrong with you, get a life.

Sport does the 90 hour (letters to my daughter after PBP 2003

We got to Paris on August 12 and dragged the bike case from the airport to the train for the ride to St. Quentin where the ride started the following Monday. Well it turns out that the transfer station at St. Michelle was under construction so we had to drag the bike case and luggage out of the train station and across the street to the subway. It wasn't all bad though because that's where I met Pia. I told you about her, she was the art salesperson from Canada that went to school in Paris and lived there now. We talked during the subway ride and agreed to meet after the ride, in Paris, when she got back from Spain. We never got together but had some nice correspondence after I got back from the ride.We finally got to the hotel in St. Quentin and since I didn't make reservations, I slept the first night in the hotel lobby. I talked to a lot of people mostly from the USA that were staying at the Hotel Campanile. One of the guys, Alexei from the Ukraine but living in Virginia asked if I would join a group of about 7 guys that were going to take a bike tour of Paris the next day and I said sure. After putting my bike together the next morning along with everybody else, the group of us took off for Paris, about 20 miles away. We went past Versailles and after taking some pictures Alexei knew this park that connected Versailles with Paris so we rode through this beautiful park with views of Paris from the heights (more pictures). All this time I had Sport tied to the back of my saddle sitting on top of the saddle bag facing backwards, he stayed there for the rest of my stay in France including the ride. I think you'll love the pictures of Sport at all the sites in Paris. We even rode up the "Champs de Elyse" on the cobblestones where the Tour de France finishes every year. After riding back to the hotel and having some beers one of the guys, Hank from upstate New York, offered to share his room with me so that's where I stayed until the ride. A few days later the rest of my group from New York City came in; most of them were delayed by the blackout in the states. Some had to sleep at the airport for the night before they flew over. We got together the next day and discussed our strategy for the ride.We got together just before the ride on Monday, August 18th and rode to the starting line about one kilometer away for the 10pm start point. I was awake from early that morning. I tried to nap in the afternoon but I think I got only about 15 minutes of sleep; that caused a problem later on in the ride. Since we were some of the last people to get to the start that night we started in the last wave that left at about 10:45 pm. (we were given credit for the late start.) We all had our reflective vests and lights on and took off in a crowd of thousands of other riders. There were people all along the first few kilometers clapping and cheering so the adrenaline was pumping and I didn't feel tired at all. The eight of us, Tom, Paul, Robert and Annaline, Janet and Paul R., Margo and I, took off together but only about 20 or 30 kilometers into the ride Tom and Paul decided to go it alone; they felt it was too dangerous trying to stick together in a tight pack amongst all the other riders. We were going slowly at night because everybody rides more slowly when its dark, plus there was a big crowd of riders around us; probably 12 mph or so. Riding at night was not bad at all. We had others to talk to, the weather was great and the French people were unbelievably supportive. At one point at about 2 or 3am, we stopped at a country house were an old lady and her husband were serving coffee and cake from their window to any rider that wanted some (more pictures). We rode through the night, all the next day, Tuesday, and into Wednesday morning when we stopped at Loudeac for our first sleep stop at about 2am. Well, by the time we ate, we had to eat mass quantities of food, burning about 10,000 calories a day, had our magnetic cards swiped and books stamped, we only got about 1 1/2 hours sleep before we had to get up for more food and a 5am start to Brest and then back to Loudeac for our next nights sleep. The first leg to Loudeac was about 275 miles and the next leg to Brest and back to Loudeac was about 200 miles but the miles got tougher because of fatigue and the lack of sleep and it got progressively worse as the days went by. (Now you have to realize that my sense of time and when things happened and were is a little fuzzy because of the lack of sleep, so some of what I'm writing may not be at the right time or the right place but you'll get the general idea.) The ride to Brest was pretty good and the ride back from Brest was even better. On the way back the six of us led a group of about 40 international riders up the biggest climb of the entire ride, Roc Trevezel, and guess who pulled the entire group to the summit, that's right your dad. It felt really good. (Of course, this was the 90 hour group and probably at the middle to the end of that group but still ...) Earlier in the day Annaline was having some trouble keeping up, so I went back to talk to her and encourage her to continue. I guess it worked and she was not only able to catch back up but later on actually helped me when I started having back spasms; she took my camelbak from me and carried it on her back. By the way, her family drove a van and was our support crew for the entire ride. They were great and her sister even massaged my back when we would stop for food at the control points. They bought food for us so we wouldn't have to wait in line, filled our water bottles and were just generally supportive; it really helped. My back spasms were getting worse and I had to see a doctor at the next control stop. He rubbed my back with some sports creme to heat it up and it helped a little but not enough; I made another stop at the doctor's tent again latter in the day. This sort of made my other problems go away, sores in my mouth from all the ham and butter sandwiches on hard french bread, sore knees, neck, butt and hands from hours in the saddle (doctor it hurts when I do that; well don't do that). By this time I had saddle sores that didn't go away for a week after I finished the ride and my butt was black and blue for that week too. Everybody had some problems and some were a lot worse then mine. Hank, the guy I shared a room with told me later on that he couldn't hold his head up because his muscles failed and even worse his heart rate wouldn't slow down for a while during the ride. Tom had diarrhea; he got a shot from the doctor that fixed him up, Robert got nausea, etc. etc. Any way, I think this takes us to Wednesday night, Thursday morning back in Loudeac. Another 1 1/2 hours of sleep. I shared a room with Janet and Paul R. By the time I checked in at the control and got to the hotel, Janet was sound asleep, I don't even think she ate anything that night. After a shower and that quick sleep we were back on the bikes at 5am for a 175 mile day, so I thought. At this point we were all suffering from lack of sleep and various other ailments like back spasms and nausea. Janet had to ride by herself for a while so Paul R and she fell back as the rest of us continued on. So now we were down to four. It was absolutely gorgeous country and the people on the side of the road were great. There were places in the middle of the night that would have tables set up with food and water for anyone who needed it. Here is where things get really fuzzy. I think it was Thursday that my back got a lot worse and by the night time after a stop in Fougeres(?) we were riding in the middle of the night when I pulled over to the side of the road and told my three partners that I couldn't go on anymore because of my back. I was slowing the group down and they were in danger of not making the next controle inside the time limit. They tried to talk me into to going on but I knew that we would all be disqualified if they waited for me so I convinced them to go on without me. I pulled out my space blanket and tried to sleep on the side of the rode at an intersection in some small town on the way to Mortange? This was about 2am and it was damp and about 40 degrees so I couldn't sleep. I looked at my bike leaning against a building and saw Sport looking at me and I think he said that I better get back on the bike and finish, I didn't want to get his mom upset (you). So, I got back on the bike and peddled squares for a few miles but had to stop again because of my back and the lack of sleep. I laid down next to a farm field under the stars in my space blanket but again couldn't go to sleep so I figured I'd ride to the next controle to sleep inside. Back on the bike again by myself in the middle of the night and my lights were starting to fail; my computer had fallen off the bike earlier in the night but I got that back. I got to Mortagne about 5am just as my three partners were leaving. They asked if I would join them but I had to eat and sleep so I said to go on without me. When I got in, I realized that I had just made the time cut off so I figured after sleeping and eating, I'd continue with the ride and see how I felt. I had to wait until daylight because of my lights so I ate $12 Euros worth of food which was a lot and slept on the floor in the cafeteria. I got back on the bike about 7am in daylight and felt a lot better. the heat of the day helped my back and I was flying through the rolling countryside. On the flats I was hitting 27 mph and passing everybody like they were standing still. The speed really helped with the rollers since I was able to go up the hills with the momentum I had from the downhills. By the end of the day I had caught up with my group; I made up about 2 hours on them in one day from 7am to 4 pm. This was not a flat course and there were some major climbs. Total climbing was about 31,000 feet and even though Roc Trevezel was the highest and longest (miles) the forest at Rambouillet was the meanest. It was near the end of the last day, Friday, and it was very steep. One guy in front of me slowed down so much that he fell off his bike. That morning there were a bunch of ambulances going out to get riders that had fallen asleep on their bikes or were suffering from hypothermia. Janet told me later that she helped a guy who had fallen asleep and crashed on his face. There was a lot of blood and he was out; speculation was that he died from the crash. So I was glad I slept that morning and felt strong at the end. I think the ride is more about going fast so you can get some sleep rather then just going fast to make the cut offs.

(to be continued)

Sport does the 90 hour--Part deux

I forgot to tell you about some of the more entertaining things that happened during the ride. I think it was Thursday morning when the six of us were leaving Loudeac for the second time that I had my "Lance" moment. It was dark at 5am and even though we had our lights on it was tough to see when we were going down a steep hill at the beginning of this part of the ride. Well, at the bottom of the decent there was this sharp S-turn that I missed. I went straight across a field of grass. Luckily there were no fences or deep ruts or my ride would have been over right there. I got my butt out of the saddle, relaxed my arms and hoped for the best. The mountain biking I did helped and I was able to hook back up with my friends on the road. I don't think they even realized what had happened since I was at the back of the pack at the time. (Lance did the same thing in the Tour this year when Beloki fell down in front of him but I didn't even have to dismount like he did.) Shortly after that we were cruising along when Margo said she was having trouble keeping up and staying in a straight line. It turns out she was riding on a flat tire for a while and didn't know it because she was so out of it from lack of sleep. That was our only mechanical problem the whole ride; pretty lucky.I have to tell you how nice and supportive these people were to me. When I was having my back spasms, we would stop once in a while so Margo, Annaline (and her sister at the controls) and Janet could rub the sports creme the doctor had given me on my lower back. (Notice how I had only the women do this job--I have pictures.) And it wasn't just the friends I rode with that were so nice. I told you some of the stories in the earlier letter but here are a few more (I'll also be sending you some news articles that talk about the ride and every one of them talks about how good people can be to each other even when they are strangers.) Alexei, my Ukrainian friend, told me that on the first night he was getting cold and he had forgotten to take leg warmers so Leroy Varga, my 76 year old friend from Dover, NJ, lent him his leg warmers. I asked some riders from Texas for some ibuprofen to reduce some swelling I was having in my ankles, feet, hands, etc. etc. and they were glad to give it to me even though they might have needed it latter on. Remember Hank form New York; he began the ride with Alex from Peru, now living in the D.C. area. At the beginning of the ride he lost a contact lens and Alex had to raise his hand so Hank could follow his lead in this pack of thousands of riders; not easy to ride with one hand in the dark with all these riders around you. There are hundred if not thousands of stories of riders lending clothes, food, helping with bike repairs and so on and that is one of the great things about bike riders and PBP in particular. What really impressed me was the French people. I'd mentioned how supportive they were. I guess this is like the Olympics coming to town once every four years. Even when we were sightseeing in Paris in heavy traffic and making some bad moves the drivers wouldn't honk or say anything. I think ever body in France rides a bike so they know what it's like. I think it was Friday morning when I was on my own and had only one water bottle; remember Annaline had to take my calmelbak from me because of the back spasms; that I was racing through this small town and I was running low on water when I saw an old lady in front of her house clapping for me (and everybody else). I jammed on the brakes, ran over to her and said "eau" (water). She ran into her house and came back with a big bottle of water and filled my bottle and then offered me more to drink right from the bottle she still had in her hand. I said, "merci bien", took her picture an raced off. I heard stories of people in the French countryside offering riders their bedrooms to sleep when they saw how tired some of the riders were getting. On on nice flat freshly paved road in the country I stopped at a farmhouse for some more water and the farmer was tell me and some of the other riders that this road was used by the Tour de France last year; that kind of felt special but then I realized that the speed they were going was about twice what I was doing at the time; maybe not, that was Friday morning when I was flying. The stories go on and on and even though I said that I would never put myself through this torture again, after reflecting on the thrill and joy of it all, I just might. I'll have to wait another four years and keep up my training to get through the qualifiers but if Leroy can do it at 76 maybe I can do it at 59. Maybe I can convince Tom Pasquale to join me; he was supposed to this time but got injured--good thing, I used his bike traveling case.

to be continued

Sport does the 90 hour--Part three

St. Quentin was a modern town, not like what you'd expect outside of Paris but it was OK. The hotel I stayed at, the Campanile, was nice and close to the start. The bike room had about 200 bikes worth about $1,000,000.
I told you about the ride to Paris with the other 6 guys I met but I have to tell you it was really pretty. After sightseeing in Paris, on the way back through the park, we stopped at an ice cream stand and sat down with ices overlooking Paris in the late afternoon--very nice. When we were in Paris we had our picture taken by a group of tourists that were on a bicycle tour of the city and after we told them what we were going to do next week, I think all their jaws dropped. It was funny looking at them looking at us; are you guys for real?
On one of the days before the ride I went out by myself to make sure the bike was OK after I put it back together and I ran into a guy who was going over the beginning of the course, so we hooked up together. It turns out he was, I think, the president of the Davis Bike Club from California, the biggest contingent of riders from one club, about 100. He invited me to join his club the next day when they were doing a ride of the first 40 miles or so of PBP as training and I said I would but then hooked up with the Paris group instead. When the Davis guy, I think his name was Don, and I were on the ride we ran into a Frenchman who was doing the same thing and even though he didn't speak much English and we didn't speak much French, we figured out he was from near Brest and was scouting out the start of the ride like we were. (He was fast!)
During the ride itself, I can't describe how excited I felt, especially the first few days when I wasn't in danger of not finishing. I told you about the start and all the people clapping. Well, even at night there were kids on the side of the road giving out water and putting out their hand so you could give them a high five. There were people all along the route giving out coffee, cake, and even places to sleep. The old towns in Brittany were beautiful with big old churches and buildings that faced right up to the sidewalks. We stopped in one old town late at night to get something to drink and eat and some of us tried to nap right there at the tables. On the way out when we stopped for water, I ran into this guy from England that was just touring in France and didn't know about PBP. So I told him what it was and boy was he amazed. I gave him the rest of my water and he thanked me and wished me luck.
There were some crazy bike on the ride like the scooter I sent you a picture of. There were four wheeled double recumbents, where they sit like they are in a car, there were bikes that looked like bullets where the rider is inside something that looks like an egg and just about anything you can imagine that can roll.
About when I thought my ride was over; I knew that the group from New York didn't want to leave me behind. We had done all the brevets out of Princeton together, had been on some long training rides leading up to PBP and I had been talking to some of them about you and Sport and about my feelings so we were getting pretty close. But I knew I had to drop out of the ride at that time; I'm glad I finished and I think they were almost as happy as me that I did.
One funny thing after the ride; the six of us went to dinner together that night and Margo had to go to the bathroom. Well, during the ride, the guys and the girls would just pull over to the side of the road and pee there on the side of the road. The guys would turn their heads and act as shelter in case some other riders were coming by. So when Margo had to go, I just told her to squat in between the tables and I'd keep a look out. She got a big kick out of that one.
When I was on my own that Friday I hooked up with a French husband and wife that were probably a little older then me but a lot stronger riders. I asked permission to ride with them and she said, in English, sure. I immediately took the lead so it wasn't like I was just getting a free ride. I spoke to the women behind me and when I explained that the reason I was riding alone was that I was tired and having back problems, she said get to the back and stay there. It wasn't only that she felt sorry for me, she was protecting herself. If I was tired, there was a chance that I could cause an accident that would have taken them out as well--smart move on her part.