PBP: the high points
Aug. 21st, 2019 03:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bikingandbakingI DNFed at Tintineac with a little time on the clock but sleep deprivation making me unable to make good choices; possibly this was too hasty but after my experience on LOL where I pushed through misery to the point where I literally could go no further, it felt right.
But I'll dive into what-went-wrong in detail later; right now I want to capture some memories.
We had dinner at the start; I will not do that again, even if it wasn't terrible food; there were better options, and I got to the start too early -- should have tried to sleep more that day. (Okay, not dwelling.) Ran into Pete from NY at the start, didn't see Ted (starting in my group), and laid down on the grass to try to rest, but mostly ended up vibrating with nerves and excitement. Chatted with a randonneur from Florida (just finally remembered his name and found him -- he's still on course and doing well, yay!) in the start line, and then we were off, weaving our way out of the park that served as the start and onto open roads. Joined some pacelines on fairly flat terrain at a good clip, and was feeling great; once the rollers started a few miles down the road I couldn't really find a group to hang with, but was still cruising along.
There were, as promised, lots of kids hi-fiving us along the route, although not quite as many spectators as I'd been lead to believe we'd see. Dusk slowly arrived, and I was sticking to my plan and eating/drinking often. The headwinds, hills, and rumbling chipseal were all challenges, but I felt good as night set in. I was a little worried about water the first night, but there were plenty of locals offering, and I filled up in a small town I can't remember the name of, just after seeing the tiniest gas station I've ever seen -- it looked like a bus stop, but instead of a shelter there was a pump to pull off the road to fill at.
A little bar was taking full advantage of the peloton running through and selling Cokes at 4 Euros -- they were delicious, and I drank half and threw the rest in my bottle with the water from the locals -- I think this was around 11? I'm not sure. Then it was off into the night, where, yes, the ribbon of red taillights across the countryside was beautiful. I started seeing some of the same people again and again, as we sorted ourselves out by speed; I hope some of them finished.
I got into the first not-a-control-control (we didn't have to stamp but facilities were available), and I had twenty minutes before I needed to leave, so I filled my bottles and bought another coke (2 euros this time, and had to wait in a very, very slow line of people getting sandwiches, but all the sandwiches had meat, so I ate food I'd brought with me and got going ten minutes before plan.
We climbed through the wee hours of the night, up and down ridge after ridge, through little towns, past a cow that was Very Opinionated about the ride going through, were passed by a triple-box-truck that, by the scent, had to be carrying manure -- the stench was, uh, impressive. The hills were never steep, as expected, but just as relentless. I was getting frustrated at how much I was having to brake downhill and sometimes on the starts of uphills, because of the crowds of riders.
But a hundred miles into the ride, and I started actually passing people -- as we all settled into our long-distance pace. Some of the people passed me back again soon after, but not all -- I'd started to keep up with the general speed, although the people I was passing easily probably all wouldn't finish.
The sky started to fade back from black to inky blue, and we were approaching the first real control -- Villanes la Juhel (the same town in which I write this post). I was a little behind schedule now, but the schedule had been aggressive, and things were still not too bad. I knew I couldn't stop at the control for a meal, but needed one, as well as a bathroom; the road provided. A public toilet was open -- it had a stall and a squat stall, and I waited for the real stall. The automatic lights turned off, and me and another waiting rider scrambled to figure out how to get them on so the rider in the stall could get out - she couldn't find the handle in the dark. The other waiting guy left with her, so I did my business before the lights could go out again, and saved myself my first control line. A bakery on the way into Villanes that had opened early solved the second; a creamy eclair and a still-hot apple turnover and some peach iced tea were perfection. (We got some bread and pastries there earlier today, too; delicious.)
Then I zoomed in and out of Villanes as quickly as I could, although I managed to park a hike away from where I should have to optimize just controlling and leaving; on the way out, the announcer stuck a mic in my face (talking about the percentage of women etc) and had me say hello, and then asked me something too-fast in French for my meager skills, at which point I broadcast to an entire town that I didn't speak much French, and he then asked me where I was from, which I could answer, and cheered me on my way.
The sun was up now, though it was cloudy and misty and great riding weather; familiar bikes continued to yo-yo with me, including a bunch of folks from a couple groups back who must have started a bit quicker but now settled into a similar pace, and a big group H group that I worried was already in trouble, time-wise. Everyone was still in good spirits, though, and we slogged up and down the hills. Villages were decorated, signs for locals cheered them and everyone else on. I started glaring at the hills in the distance, but was still enjoying the ride -- we crossed a beautiful little river inMayenne Ambrieres-les-Vallees, and then I found a grocery store for some pear nectar -- couldn't find any salty snacks, so ate more of my own stuff, while watching a fellow rando fail to keep his snacks down in the parking lot. Hope he was OK, too.
I knew I was slowing down well behind plan, but wasn't losing time, and the pear nectar was good fuel, so I pushed on to Fougeres, where I only bought a Coke and used the restroom and headed out; I'll get into this later, but I think the Coke was part of the beginning of the end. I needed a sit-down meal off the bike whether or not I had time; I remembered that there was something a few miles after Fougeres, although I had forgotten to put enough info on my cheat-sheet on the bike and worried I was passing my last chances at some various cafes/bars covered in bikes. Nope -- there it was, an American-themed burger joint with veggie burgers and milkshakes, and fairly fast service. Just the ticket. A fellow rider from Croatia had brought along supplies to roll his own cigarettes, and was doing so while eating at the next table; I thought, as I watched, that this was a story I was unlikely to remember after the ride, but here it is.
The break had done its job, at least a little, and I zoomed up the road, although my climbing speed was dropping and running the numbers had me worried.
About ten miles later was when sleep deprivation set in, and I stopped having fun, but this is the good-stuff post, so I'll end it here.
But I'll dive into what-went-wrong in detail later; right now I want to capture some memories.
We had dinner at the start; I will not do that again, even if it wasn't terrible food; there were better options, and I got to the start too early -- should have tried to sleep more that day. (Okay, not dwelling.) Ran into Pete from NY at the start, didn't see Ted (starting in my group), and laid down on the grass to try to rest, but mostly ended up vibrating with nerves and excitement. Chatted with a randonneur from Florida (just finally remembered his name and found him -- he's still on course and doing well, yay!) in the start line, and then we were off, weaving our way out of the park that served as the start and onto open roads. Joined some pacelines on fairly flat terrain at a good clip, and was feeling great; once the rollers started a few miles down the road I couldn't really find a group to hang with, but was still cruising along.
There were, as promised, lots of kids hi-fiving us along the route, although not quite as many spectators as I'd been lead to believe we'd see. Dusk slowly arrived, and I was sticking to my plan and eating/drinking often. The headwinds, hills, and rumbling chipseal were all challenges, but I felt good as night set in. I was a little worried about water the first night, but there were plenty of locals offering, and I filled up in a small town I can't remember the name of, just after seeing the tiniest gas station I've ever seen -- it looked like a bus stop, but instead of a shelter there was a pump to pull off the road to fill at.
A little bar was taking full advantage of the peloton running through and selling Cokes at 4 Euros -- they were delicious, and I drank half and threw the rest in my bottle with the water from the locals -- I think this was around 11? I'm not sure. Then it was off into the night, where, yes, the ribbon of red taillights across the countryside was beautiful. I started seeing some of the same people again and again, as we sorted ourselves out by speed; I hope some of them finished.
I got into the first not-a-control-control (we didn't have to stamp but facilities were available), and I had twenty minutes before I needed to leave, so I filled my bottles and bought another coke (2 euros this time, and had to wait in a very, very slow line of people getting sandwiches, but all the sandwiches had meat, so I ate food I'd brought with me and got going ten minutes before plan.
We climbed through the wee hours of the night, up and down ridge after ridge, through little towns, past a cow that was Very Opinionated about the ride going through, were passed by a triple-box-truck that, by the scent, had to be carrying manure -- the stench was, uh, impressive. The hills were never steep, as expected, but just as relentless. I was getting frustrated at how much I was having to brake downhill and sometimes on the starts of uphills, because of the crowds of riders.
But a hundred miles into the ride, and I started actually passing people -- as we all settled into our long-distance pace. Some of the people passed me back again soon after, but not all -- I'd started to keep up with the general speed, although the people I was passing easily probably all wouldn't finish.
The sky started to fade back from black to inky blue, and we were approaching the first real control -- Villanes la Juhel (the same town in which I write this post). I was a little behind schedule now, but the schedule had been aggressive, and things were still not too bad. I knew I couldn't stop at the control for a meal, but needed one, as well as a bathroom; the road provided. A public toilet was open -- it had a stall and a squat stall, and I waited for the real stall. The automatic lights turned off, and me and another waiting rider scrambled to figure out how to get them on so the rider in the stall could get out - she couldn't find the handle in the dark. The other waiting guy left with her, so I did my business before the lights could go out again, and saved myself my first control line. A bakery on the way into Villanes that had opened early solved the second; a creamy eclair and a still-hot apple turnover and some peach iced tea were perfection. (We got some bread and pastries there earlier today, too; delicious.)
Then I zoomed in and out of Villanes as quickly as I could, although I managed to park a hike away from where I should have to optimize just controlling and leaving; on the way out, the announcer stuck a mic in my face (talking about the percentage of women etc) and had me say hello, and then asked me something too-fast in French for my meager skills, at which point I broadcast to an entire town that I didn't speak much French, and he then asked me where I was from, which I could answer, and cheered me on my way.
The sun was up now, though it was cloudy and misty and great riding weather; familiar bikes continued to yo-yo with me, including a bunch of folks from a couple groups back who must have started a bit quicker but now settled into a similar pace, and a big group H group that I worried was already in trouble, time-wise. Everyone was still in good spirits, though, and we slogged up and down the hills. Villages were decorated, signs for locals cheered them and everyone else on. I started glaring at the hills in the distance, but was still enjoying the ride -- we crossed a beautiful little river in
I knew I was slowing down well behind plan, but wasn't losing time, and the pear nectar was good fuel, so I pushed on to Fougeres, where I only bought a Coke and used the restroom and headed out; I'll get into this later, but I think the Coke was part of the beginning of the end. I needed a sit-down meal off the bike whether or not I had time; I remembered that there was something a few miles after Fougeres, although I had forgotten to put enough info on my cheat-sheet on the bike and worried I was passing my last chances at some various cafes/bars covered in bikes. Nope -- there it was, an American-themed burger joint with veggie burgers and milkshakes, and fairly fast service. Just the ticket. A fellow rider from Croatia had brought along supplies to roll his own cigarettes, and was doing so while eating at the next table; I thought, as I watched, that this was a story I was unlikely to remember after the ride, but here it is.
The break had done its job, at least a little, and I zoomed up the road, although my climbing speed was dropping and running the numbers had me worried.
About ten miles later was when sleep deprivation set in, and I stopped having fun, but this is the good-stuff post, so I'll end it here.