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.