1000k brevet: the long haul.
This is my first season doing brevets and I've already done a full series: 200k, 300k, 400k, 600k, all with a modicum of success: high placings in the longer events and plenty of time left before the cutoffs. It's a real testament to the power of the OS that I was able to pull these off; my longest training ride was 100k!
The outfit that produces Paris-Brest-Paris came up with an effective scheme to increase brevet participation in an off-PBP year: a chance to pre-qualify for next year's event by doing brevets this year, the longer the better. Well, we've all done the math, figuring that a 600k would be enough, but everyone has upped their game; now it's clear that only a 1000k will make the cut.
The only 1000k brevet in the Northeast is the Lap of the Lake: Ontario that is. Previously this event had only 12 riders, max. This year over sixty signed up!
51 of us rolled out at 6am on Thursday, July 8th to cheering and the wonderful skirl of a bagpiper. I was determined to hold back, to not let the usual early excitement and exuberance booger the ride. It was supremely tough to let 20 guys roll away; I just put my head down, kept my PM numbers reasonable and kept telling myself that I'd see those guys again. I felt like crap for the first two hours; the no-sleep high-heat 600k less than two weeks earlier had left a deep mark of fatigue, one that I had tried with only limited success to mitigate. As usual with these long brevets if I just keep rolling and fueling I can dig my way out of a hole; sure enough I started to feel better.
I tend to ride at a different pace than most brevet riders; slow up the hills and much faster downhill and on the flats. I can perch my forearms on my bars (no aerobars) and slip away from most riders with no extra effort on my part; the PM doesn't lie! It turns out this perfectly matches the pace of most tandems so I'm always on the lookout for one or two; this ride contained two. I rode with both at different times of the ride.
This brevet was a little unusual in that it was completely unsupported: if I wanted something to eat or drink, I had to find it. If I wanted a place to sleep, I had to find it. Even the controls, so often a gathering place for riders during the event, were diffused: once we rode into a control town we had to make a purchase, get a receipt, and get our brevet card signed, anywhere in that town.
The first day was a stone bitch: the heat soared to 101 degrees, a slight tail-wind felt like an oven, and then, in a beserk twist we had to ride over freshly-laid asphalt. My eyes were ratcheting around in my head; everyone was suffering. I hammered the salt and water to no avail; I felt horrible. I finally fetched up in a MacDonald's, desperate for a large vanilla shake. There I met another rider, one of the fast guys, Tim. The heat and fast pace had shut his digestive system down; we would wind up riding together for 24 hours until he finally started to feel better and slipped away. It was good to work together with another rider, navigating and keeping each other company, discussing any topic under the (broiling) sun. We found a hotel in Belleville Ontario, showered then slept 3 hours, hitting the road at 6am. I had made 250 miles the first day.
Three hours later we holed up in a sub shop, waiting out a torrential downpour. We ate and slept, slept and ate. Let's go! I was happy to be rolling again, working my way up ever-increasingly steeper hills, up and over Greater Toronto. This ride used to go through primarily rural areas around Toronto but the tentacles of suburban sprawl are eating into farmland at an astonishing rate. Lots of stoplights, too many! I went through a few low patches; one was cured through the restorative powers of an ice cream cone and a Coke. Another time it was a foot-long Subway sandwich and a chocolate milk. Gotta eat; powders and gels and candy only go so far.
That night I fetched up in Burlington, Ontario, another 215 miles under my belt. A little lost and no hotel in sight, I asked three staggering bar patrons for some help. Sure! I clip-clopped down the road with them as they guided me to another bar and just around the corner: heaven in the form of a hotel with a vacancy. I fell asleep at 2:30, alarmed up at 5:00, hit the road at 5:30. This was sheer will power as I didn't dare lay there a minute longer for fear of waking up six hours later.
One of the first lessons to learn in randoneurring is to ride your own ride. Every time I've gotten sucked in to riding at a pace that's over my head I've come to regret it; this morning was no exception. I was rolling down long straightaways, nice and flat. Down on the bars, rolling comfortably at 17-18, dreams of a 4 hour 100k dancing merrily in my head. All of a sudden the fast tandem rolls up on me, the captain breathlessly exclaiming that I had been hard to catch. I latched on to their (wobbling) wheel, content to watch the speeds climb to 19-20. But I was just holding on, even peeing on the fly to make sure I didn't lose the draft. In my desperation I gave up following the cue sheet; no way to do this and focus on holding that wheel. Suddenly the tandem pulls over, announces that they have to fix that wobbling rear wheel; I roll on, thinking I knew where I was; no dice. Good and lost, I bump around the tub until I finally get squared away, now having lost 45 minutes and gained 10 bonus miles. Dammit!
The Canadian side of Niagra Falls is gorgeous, a real treat. The climb up the Niagra Escarpment, not so much. In the granny, out of the saddle, grunting along for seemingly forever, a real challenge. At the top of this climb I made my next mistake, following the signs for the bridge to the United States. Big mistake. I wound up in a line of cars, broiling in the mid-day sun, for 90 minutes before clearing U.S. Customs. Inching forward, four feet at a time, sucking in exhaust fumes. Lost again. I bumped around again, finally finding my way back onto the course. All time goals were now officially gone, my simple underlying goal: to finish.
Brevets are in some ways a lot like Ironman. At it's most basic it's a pass/fail deal; all you gotta do is finish before the cutoff. I had 75 hours to finish this ride. Early on I had dreams of breaking 60 hours; the first day's heat and the sheer length of the damned thing put paid to that. Even the fast guys who were sure to break 50 hours were foiled in their quest; the quickest time was 52 and change.
The last 100 miles were a supreme challenge. It had gotten hot again, mid 90s. I felt horrible again. My hands and wrists were aching and my undercarriage; well, lets just say I found the limits of my Oomph shorts and Sella Anatomica saddle and went well past them. At one point I was wobbling down the road, oozing in and out of consciousness; nothing made sense. I finally found some shade and laid down, drinking and eating until I felt better. This pattern repeated itself over and over; I could go for 40-45 minutes before cracking, then I'd find shade and recuperate. It didn't help that I was riding on a four-lane highway, built on the early 50s it hadn't seen a dime of maintenance money since then; the potholes, frost heaves and broken concrete edges were hellish.
Once off that parkway it was early evening and starting to cool; I felt a bit better. I rolled into the penultimate control town, found a local burger joint and ordered a giant burger and a vanilla shake. Then a hot dog. Then another one. Yum! I felt much better. With full water bottles I set out on the last 26 mile leg. At 19 miles to go it was dark; I rolled up on another brevet rider, standing at the side of the road, visibly relieved to see me. He had flatted and his pump had failed. I was all too happy to loan him mine, turn my Dinotte lights up to full blast and help him get back on the road. We rode together for a bit until he jetted away; this was fine by me as I wanted to simply savor the last miles of this long ride. With one mile to go he stood waiting, saying that I had saved his ride and he wanted to ride in with me. Sweet! I rang my bell in exultation and relief, thrilled to have finished such a big event. Total event time: 64:44. Total saddle time: 42:24.
The drive home was an ordeal unto itself. I figured I'd just pack up, put in a couple of hours on the freeway and find a hotel to hole up in. After so long in the saddle, becoming one with my bike, my car felt like a broken, alien vehicle. I couldn't drive more than 40 mph. Then the hallucinations started; flocks of birds dive-bombing my car, waterfalls pouring off of bridges. I was having to shout at myself every two seconds to avoid drifting off; I finally managed to get to a rest stop. After choking down a disgusting roast beef sandwich I reclined my car seat, pulled my yoga mat over me for warmth, and passed out for 6 hours. I woke up hungry!
Thanks for reading along. It's been a bit odd for me to depart from triathlon and Ironman after such a long focus, but diving into a new sport and having the opportunity to learn so much has been a real blast. Again, two thumbs up for the OS!
Comments
WOW, Bill. Congrats for completing the series doesn't even do it justice.
Majorly impressed and damn, way to just get it done. What's next for you??
Simply amazing story!! I felt myself cheering you on, so glad you finished in 64 hours!! Can't imagine
AGain many many Congratulations....you deserve it!!
Huge congratulations. Huge accomplishment! Can't wait to read about PBP.
Wow - that THAT'S doing cool stuff with your fitness. Congratulations.
I got tired just reading that, Bill that is just amazing.
As always a great report, on something I know I'll never do but can fully appreciate. Takes me back to the summer of '97, when I rode across the country on a route that included the southern shore of Lake Erie - the smallest Great lake, but still looked like the ocean to me. We rode less in a week than you did in less than 3 days - WHOA! I can't wait to hear a complete travelogue on the whole escapade to France next year.
Although there's no running at the end as in Ironman, the sheer length of this event has extracted it's own toll...
you have a way with words and some incredible mental tenacity. Your body must be a furnace in regards to your metabolism after all of that. Terrific effort.
Vince
PS- So when do you find out if you will be doing PBP? And when exactly is it? And do you need a support crew? I gotta make sure I clear my 2011 race schedule so I have plenty of time to "track" you in whatever way I can.
With the completion of this 1000k brevet I'm fully pre-qualified for PBP next year; I "just" have to complete another series of 200k, 300k, 400k, 600k brevets next year, send in my money (150.00!) and I'm in.
No support crew! Another thing I like about this sport is I need to live off the land, figuring out what I need/can eat and drink. Chocolate milk? Yeah! Footlong Subway? You betcha! Vanilla shake at Macdonalds? Bring it on! Having an iron gut helps...
Finally the time to sit with a cuppa and read! I started it about three times, but wanted a time with no skimming and no distractions to lap it all up.
Totally...flippin'...awesome. Dang, man, that is something! I'm so impressed how you set your mind to get to PBP, and there you are! (Save that little brevet series next year.
) Please keep posting on that journey--gives us ideas and motivation on what to do after IM. Totally cool stories and experiences.
Congrats hardly seems a big enough word, but congrats--truly!
PS--not sure what I found more fascinating--the riding or the eating.
Very inspirational, thanks for sharing!
Patrick
Way to go, roomie! Congrats! Great job!