August 20, Monday - I managed to sleep in till about 10 am, and then spent a fairly relaxing day doing last minute preparations, eating, and napping. I got nearly 2 more hours of sleep in the afternoon. That's the way to handle these night starts!

Then it was time to get dressed and ready to go. It was still relatively nice as we cycled to the start/finish area, and on the way we met up with a number of other cyclists I knew from previous events. One remembered me as being the one who threw up all over Middlebury Gap on the BMB last year! Another remembered me on the Gold Rush the year before, and congratulated me for making it to 400 kms on that ride. David P. was in the crowd, with a little picture his son had drawn for him. Lots of people had items their family members had given them. Amy (Orangecomo) and her husband were there. And I saw, and talked to, the two I had ridden with during the 2003 PBP ... first, Frank from Germany pulled up beside me in the line, and then a bit later, there was Phil moving forward in the line on the other side, merging with the line I was in!! It was great to see them again!! :)

We moved through the line fairly quickly, chatting to various ones. We saw the last wave of the Vedettes (the 80 hour group) go, and heard the waves of riders ahead of us go with the loud "BANG!" of the starter's pistols. They played the bagpipes for us again this year ... and again someone (not me this time) asked if bagpipes weren't the music for funerals. Once we got into the Gymnase grounds, the officials did a quick bike check to ensure we had our reflective gear and lights. And once in line there, we all did 'The Wave' a few times!

Even though we were in line for about 2 hours, it did not feel that long. There was so much going on. And incidentally, for those concerned about hydration and toilet facilities at the start, we brought disposable bottles of water with us in the line, and there were lots of portable toilets provided for the riders in various places along our line.

Before too long, we were at the head of the line, and being shuttled through the check-in area and out into the street. "BANG!" The 10:10 wave was set off and we were next, scheduled to depart at 10:30. They herded us around the corner. Rowan and I stepped aside to let everyone go by. That might have been a mistake because we ended up riding alone ... or it might not have been a mistake because of the possibility of crashes in large groups of cyclists.

And then the rain started. Rowan and I, and a few others, scrambled to put on our rain gear, assisted by a French spectator who held his umbrella over us. The rain let up to a drizzle, and then "BANG!" we were off.

It was slow going at first because there was quite a pack ahead of us, but it wasn't long before they dropped us and we rode on through a quiet, dark, drizzly night together.

The police had closed off the road for quite a distance so that we could ride in peace, unobstructed by traffic. They also let us go through red lights and stop signs. I believe that the roads were blocked off for the first 20 kilometers or so, and then we were out in the country so it wasn't essential anymore. This year the police were almost the only people cheering us on because of the weather.

The route was very well marked with arrows, and once we figured out where they were, they were easy to spot ... decent sized arrows with reflective parts. I also noticed the X'x to indicate roads we should not take in various places. There was only one spot I can think of where I did not see an arrow, but someone in the group we were riding with must have spotted something because we made the turn and it was OK.

We heard that the arrows got more plentiful as the ride went on past Loudeac.

I discovered I didn't need the cue sheets (which had no directional indications) at any point along the part of the route we did because it was well marked with arrows. Between the start and Mortagne, I glanced at my cue sheet once and happened to notice that a town on the cue sheet matched a town we were going through. I did not need it for directions at all.

I enjoyed the first part ... in fact, it was really good for about the first 100 kms. It drizzled through some parts, and was dry through other parts, and the wind wasn't too bad. I was also climbing well ... tackling hills I struggled on in 2003 with ease. We stopped at a small water stop along the way, manned by some very friendly French people, and took a photo of the bicycle on the roof overhang.

We noticed one "interesting" thing in this section ... a surprising number of cyclists stopped for a nap! In one town, there was a large train station with a wide overhang, and it was crowded with sleeping cyclists. And along the way, there were cyclists sleeping on walls and on doorsteps. Very odd. It was way too early in the ride for a nap!

But then the sky opened up and it began to rain. I didn't think it would last too long because the previous rainburst hadn't, so I didn't bother changing into my rainpants, and I didn't bother changing my gloves. I was wearing my one pair of padded cycling gloves. These decisions were to prove to be big mistakes later. However, I will add that otherwise I was dressed well for the occasion. The microfleece I had aquired at the Decathlon in Paris was wonderful!

Meanwhile, I had arrived at the top of my first big descent in the rain ... and I have completely lost my nerve on descents in the rain. I have been struggling with this aspect of cycling since my crash in early April, and had hoped I was getting over it, but discovered I had not. It didn't help that the night was pitch dark, that the rain on the road sucked up what light my bicycle and helmet lights gave off, and that the rain had coated my glasses and was falling in my eyes. I couldn't see anything!

Rowan disappeared around the corner and I tried to follow some other taillights that went by, but they quickly disappeared too. And then I just stopped by the side of the road to calm my nerves. Another woman stopped too, also having trouble with the descent. We continued and eventually, very slowly, made it down.

On the next descent, Rowan slowed down and rode in front of me so I had a taillight to follow, but still, I was descending slower than I was climbing ... not good for the overall time.

We pulled into the Mortagne stop (140 kms) and got something to eat. I had a heaping plate of pasta and cheese, and was able to eat most of it.

It was freezing when we emerged, so on went the rain pants for warmth more than anything else. But I would have been a lot warmer and drier if I had been wearing my rainpants all along. I also switched to my polypro gloves because I could wring out my padded gloves. And this is where I made the biggest mistake with my padded gloves ... I just stuffed them into my Carradice bag.

August 21, Tuesday - Fortunately it was becoming light so I could at least see the descents, and so I could pick up a bit of speed. The rain also let up a bit so we rode as fast as we could toward Villaines-la-Juhel (222 kms). However, about 20 kms away from Villaines the sky opened up again and it rained all over us all the way into the control.

We stopped to eat something to eat and be on our way again. None of our control stops were very long, and we were quite efficient in them in an effort not to lose even more time. But even so, we left the control moments before it closed, and dashed up the road to Fougeres.

Oh, one "funny" thing happened at the Villaines control. Just as we arrived, an American rider came staggering out of the check-in area in a bit of a daze, incoherently muttering something about the control times. For some reason he was under the impression that there was no way for anyone to know which wave of riders he was in when he rolled out of the start line. According to the ride information, the 90 hour riders departed at 9 pm. But because there were so many 90 hour riders, we were set off in waves of approx. 500 every 20 minutes. Therefore, of course, most riders left after 9 pm. He thought the control closing time was absolutely based on the 9 pm start time, and would not be adjusted based the actual start times of each wave ... and didn't think that was fair to those who left quite a bit after 9 pm.

As he moved off in the direction of the food building, Rowan and I pulled out our brevet cards and checked them. Sure enough, both of us had 10:30 pm clearly stamped on them. And we knew from the 2003 PBP that the times would be adjusted. We had tried to reassure him while he was talking to us, but he was not convinced ... perhaps a bit of sleep deprivation or the early stages of bonking at work there.

The road to Fougeres is quite hilly, the most hilly section we had encountered so far in the ride. I was doing quite well on the hills ... better going up than down ... but my right knee was starting to give me some trouble.

We arrived in Fougeres (310 kms) with a few minutes to spare. It was really getting frustrating ... we could not seem to gain any time! Usually by this point of a ride, I have gained at least an hour or more.

And it poured with rain during the last few kilometers into Fougeres. As it started to pour, I asked Rowan if we were near a control. We were. This business of pouring just before we arrived at a control was getting to be a habit ... and not a very nice one! I was really looking forward to my bag drop in Loudeac where I could get fresh shorts. Mine were soaked, and getting rather uncomfortable.

We ate a fast meal in Fougeres. I had started to develop some digestive issues ... not because of the food, but rather because of the speed at which I had to eat the food. I was cramming it all in as fast as I could and my stomach didn't like that too much.

I had cycled up a hill I needed to walk up last time on the way into the Fougeres control, but on the way out of the control we encountered a hill I do not remember from 2003. This hill was a WALL!! I made it about halfway up and then walked the rest of the way.

The route from Fougeres to Tinteniac (365 kms), I recalled from last time, was not too bad in terms of climbing, and with the exception of the wall, it wasn't too bad. We were finally able to make up a few minutes, but still not nearly enough time, and we were both getting very, very tired. We had started the ride 24 hours earlier, and had not slept at all. It was now about 30 hours since we woke up from our afternoon nap back in St. Quentin.

We decided to lie down in a corner for 30 minutes to try to get some rest before continuing on to Loudeac. Unfortunately I was still quite wet from the downpour just before Tinteniac (yep ... another one just before a control!!) and so I ended up just lying there and shaking with cold for half the time. I did get a little bit of sleep, but not much.

Unfortunately, I was also finding it harder and harder to eat. At this control, I managed some fruit and potato chips.

When we were getting ready to go, I saw Amy (Orangecomo) and her husband, and they appeared to be in the same state as we were. Amy told me they were going to try to rest, and then see if they could make Loudeac.

We hit the road again, and before too long I started hallucinating. I have NEVER started hallucinating that early in a ride before!! The dark patches in the pavement grew and stretched out as if to engulf me, and then quickly receded when I looked directly at them. "Things" started crawling out of the ditches to grab at my wheels. Occasionally I found myself nodding off slightly.

And then all of a sudden, partway up a hill, Rowan stopped in front of me ........ and the decision was made that we would not continue the event.

We just could not get up any speed at all ... we were only just barely going to make the Loudeac control. We would not have time to sleep there, and Brest, where the time limits become a bit more lax, was still a very long way away.

Not only that but the rain started again as we slowly made our way into a little town called Quédellac. Continuing would mean another long, dark, wet night.

We found a small train shelter (like a bus shack) by the side of some tracks, and using our two emergency bivies, and Rowan's sleeping bag, we curled up for a nap. It was while we were setting up our "bed" for the night that I discovered the mistake I made with my wet cycling gloves. Way back in Mortagne I had just stuffed them into my Carradice ..... and they had soaked my spare pair of shorts (which I forgot I had with me!), and a few other things I had in a cloth bag. Nevertheless, I used that very damp cloth bag as my pillow.

The ground was very hard and cold, and the rain fell gently on my face while mosquitoes buzzed around. I kept thinking I heard mice or rats rummaging through the garbage behind us, but it was probably just the chilly wind blowing through the shelter. I was wet, and the wind made me cold.

I shook ... and shook ... and shook ... and finally dozed. And then woke with my hip and shoulder screaming at me in pain. A small adjustment ... more shaking ... and more dozing.

And then I woke to the sound of a bell ringing. Not a church bell, but something quieter ... perhaps it was an alarm clock. And then I recognized it ... a train crossing! I lifted my head to see the arms come down across the road ... silence ... would there be no train?

ROAR!! I caught my breath and clutched the sleeping bag as the fast, but fortunately short, train zoomed by!!! It seemed like it was inches from me, and was apt to suck me onto the track at any moment!! I nearly had a heart attack!! That was the shortest train that went by over the next few hours, and all of them were as alarming as the first.

August 22, Wednesday - Finally, as the sky was beginning to lighten, we got up and started plodding to Loudeac.

We went through a town or two with no open pâtisseries, and actually slowed down to look at the architecture and sculptures in the center of town. I had wanted to do that all the way through the ride, but was terribly disappointed when we did not have time.

Then we found a town with the three things we wanted ... a WC, an open pâtisserie, and some very comfortable church steps where we had our breakfast and then a nap. While we were there, the rector of the church opened the front doors and invited us in. We declined because we figured that if we went inside and got warm and comfortable, we would never leave.

There were several PBP officials around too, which puzzled me. What were they doing in this small town in the middle of nowhere? One warned us to watch our time ... too late for that! Another moved our bicycles for us from in front of the pâtisserie to the church where we were napping.

There were lots of friendly people in this town! And it was so peaceful ... so typical of rural France. As we sat on the church steps, we lazily chatted about stopping there and staying on ... seeing if we could find a place to live, and jobs ..........

But, as a ray of sunshine appeared, we pryed ourselves off the church steps and plunked ourselves back onto our bicycles.

Just outside this little town, we discovered the reason why there were so many cycling officials around ... a secret control for the riders going back!

Onward through more small towns. The little bit of sunshine disappeared, clouds rolled in again, the sky opened up again, and it poured. We dashed into a small town by the side of the road, found the local pub at the top of a very steep hill, and sat down to have a leisurely cup of hot coffee. No sense getting all wet and uncomfortable now!

There were two other cyclists in the pub too, taking their time over what they had ordered. Based on how much stuff they were carrying on their bicycles, my guess was that they were in the same boat (heh, literally, with all that rain!) as us. I'd noticed that the fast riders carried very little (the 80 hour and 84 hour people), while the slower riders (90 hour) tended to carry quite a bit of stuff. So either these two were very unusual fast riders on their way back, or they were like us ... well over the time limit, and not caring anymore.

It was lovely in that pub ... warm and comfortable ... but eventually we decided to keep riding. Again, the people in the town were very friendly, and these towns are wonderful, fascinating places, kept so clean and tidy.

The rain had let up a bit, but the wind was stronger during the last leg to Loudeac. Then ... as we approached Loudeac ... can you guess what happened? It happened at every single other control. Yep ... the sky opened up again and SPLOOSH! More rain.

We arrived in Loudeac (450 kms) nearly 12 hours after the control closed. We handed in our cards to join the two boxes of cards - one full, the other 3/4 full. Then we got ourselves a wonderful meal ... this was the first really good meal I had eaten in a couple days. I had a heaping plate of omlette, mashed potatoes, and pickles. After that plate of mashed potatoes and pickles, I craved mashed potatoes and pickles for the rest of the trip, still crave them now and then. But my appetite had definitely come back!

Then we located the Australian bag drop, got our bags, and located the showers. That hot shower was one of the best showers I have ever had. And for the first time in about 46 hours, I was in a pair of clean, dry shorts. If you've never worn wet cycling shorts for 46 hours, you don't know the bliss of wearing clean dry shorts!!

And if you've ever had wet feet for 46 hours, you too will know what the early stages of trench foot (or immersion foot) look and smell like! I was horrified when I saw my feet! They were white as snow, all puffy, and all the skin looked like it was going to fall off if I touched it. I decided the best thing to do would be to put on dry socks and hope the skin stayed on. It did.

Feeling much more human again, we started for the train station, but before we left the Loudeac control area, we met RoadiJeff just coming in on his way back. We had a nice little chat with him.

The train station was full of numerous other cyclists who had gathered to make the trip back to St. Quentin. We recognized one (John) who had been riding with us on and off, and who had apparently fallen asleep on his bicycle and ended up in a boggy ditch near the secret control. He was ordered to sleep which killed his chances of reaching the control in time. Peter Norris was there too. He had a crash, broke his tailbone, and could not continue.

All of them left on an earlier bus ... our bicycles would not fit on that bus. A couple hours later, off we went to the train station on the next bus. The TGV train was not equipped to take bicycles ... some are, some are not, and this one was not. Nevertheless, many cyclists had crammed their bicycles into every available space. Ours were laid on their sides on top of a row of upright bicycles, with the help of some train personnel. I just had to take a deep breath, and close my eyes, and hope Machak would be OK.

We passed through several cars to find our seat, and every car was full of tired and sleeping cyclists. Once settled in our seats, I fell into a deep sleep for about 1.5 hours.

Getting the bicycles out of the train was a bit of an adventure, and the cyclists whose bicycles were on the bottom of the heap weren't too happy about the fact that our bicycles were on top. But nothing terrible happened to any of them.

We transferred to another train where we chatted with a French lady who asked us about the PBP. She was very encouraging. She also told us that it had been raining in St. Quentin since 8 am. It was now midnight, and it had not let up all day.

It's almost funny ... St. Quentin is a control too, the start and finish control. And it was coming down in buckets!! Start ... finish ... and everywhere in between, it rained at every single control we encountered.

A quick cycle through the rain, and we pulled into the campsite. If you recall, our campsite was somewhat boggy before we set off on the PBP, and we nicknamed it "The Swamp" ... well, "The Swamp" was even swampier than before!!

Nevertheless, very soon we were tucked, warm and comfortable, in our tent. I had absolutely no regrets that I was not on my bicycle for a third cold, rainy night. I felt ... relieved to be out of the bad weather, off my bicycle, and inside a place that was snug and warm, and where I could finally sleep.