Paris-Brest-Paris(PBP) 2007
"It's a fantastic ride, wonderful warm weather, great scenery, lots of friendly people - you'll
enjoy it!" my friend said. Having done a second SR series, I thought "OK, I'll give it a go - as
a one-off attempt." So, at just after midnight, I boarded the Transmanche ferry at Newhaven on
Saturday 18th August on route for the 1200kms Paris-Brest-Paris bicycle ride. I had a whole day
in hand so I took a leisurely drive along ordinary N-roads through several villages to get to a
campsite just south of Nogent-le-Roi.
Sunday 19th dawned grey and overcast with a stiff south-westerly breeze and as it was sign-on
day, I drove the short 20miles to the Gynasium in Guyancourt after breakfast. It started drizzling
as I joined the thousands of participants and headed for the UK queue to get my information pack,
the revered PBP shirt and medal. Not having taken part in any similar event, I was truly amazed at the
numbers - apparently just over 5,300 riders from every part of the world.
I didn't see any point in hanging around in such inclement weather so I headed straight back to
the campsite where I had a meal and then went for a 30kms spin before getting in plenty of sleep. Another
grey dawn on Monday 20th and after breakfast, I went for another 25kms spin before another couple of
hours of rest.
Sleeping quarters for a couple of nights!
Around 3pm, I made my final preparations, checked out of the campsite and then drove back
to Guyancourt for the start. Some confusion followed about long-term parking until eventually I was given
a ticket for the shopping centre car park about 1km away. By the time, I returned to the start point suitably
kitted out, it was around 7pm and hundreds of cyclists were trying to funnel down into the narrow underpass
while the 'vedettes'(quick ones) were assembled on the start line on the opposite side of the roundabout
for their 8pm start.
On the start line, there was a Breton band, film crews, colourful stilt walkers and lots of cheering
spectators. Then, after a countdown, the loud crack of a maroon heralded the start and suddenly we were
being channeled down the underpass and into the stadium. The tandems and various other 'specials' went off
at 9.00pm while the throng of solo cyclists were being split into two groups, one around the inside of the
stadium and the other around the outside. I got into the shorter inside queue and before long, I had my
Brevet book stamped and was lined up at the start line with around 500 other PBP hopefuls. There were a
few familiar UK faces around me and we opted to stick together - one said that we needn't worry about a
route sheet as we could follow wheels - what folly that turned out to be!
An announcer gave us some last minute advice, the squawk of the Breton band started up, then the
countdown and at 9.50pm, we were off - literally! At the very first corner, someone took the front wheel
of the guy in front of me and he went down so I came to a sudden stop - that or either run over him! It
took a lot of chasing to catch up with my UK colleagues which included Jules from the Royal Mail. Now in
a bunch of some 30 riders, we settled down to a fairly quick pace heading roughly due west through Monfort
l'Amaury to Gambais where we encountered raised brickwork in the centre of the road. Whether we were
all concentrating too much on the street furniture or each other's wheels I'm not sure but the whole bunch
went straight on instead of going left and about 8kms further on, we all came to a halt at an 'unexpected'
junction. While the others stood about scratching their heads, I went left and pressed on and eventually
joined another group after having done a 14km loop all the way back to Gambais!
The route now passed close by my campsite near Nogent-le-Roi so having recced these roads, I pressed
on in confidence. A long ribbon of red lights reaching far into the distant signified that I was now on
the long roads that meandered across the rolling French countryside - thank goodness the road surfaces
were far better than the UK and I could just concentrate on riding. As we were fairly high up and in open
country, it started drizzling so it was a wet and cold ride through Chateaneuf-en-Thymerais and along
another series of long rolling roads taking me towards the first stop at Mortagne-au-Perche. On route, I
passed Bob Harber of Worthing Excelsior at the side of the road; apparently he had fallen asleep and had
fell into the ditch - a soft landing and he was OK but this was only the first night!
My lighting setup was a Shimano Ultegra dynohub driving one Bosch & MUller Topal LED headlight with two
Electron 1watt Super LED lights each using 4 x AAA batteries. These were arranged to give a triangular
pattern of light and the only shortcoming was probably that the Shimano dynohub didn't pack as big a
punch as the more-popular Schmidt version. Rear lighting was provided by a couple of clip-on Cateyes,
route-sheet reading was assisted by a Petzl Tikka Plus and I opted for 700x25 Continental GP4000s with
reflective sidewalls.
At 140kms, Mortagne-au-Perche was not a control, just a food stop but a very welcome one as the pace
had been much too high for a long distance ride. It was around 3am on Tuesday morning and after managing
to get something to eat, I tacked onto the back of another bunch of riders and set off on the next leg to
Villaines la Juhel. At first, the route went south-west to Mamers and thankfully the pace now eased off
a little although the Italians - and there seemed to be lots of them - would occasionally up it a bit.
It was starting to break daylight as my group of some 10 or 12 riders crossed the N138 at La Hutte
where I spotted signs for Le Mans, the shrine of petrol-heads. Some sadistic person had erected a sign
pointing out that we had 1000kms to go! - thanks for that!
I arrived at the control in Villaines around 9am and stacked my bike amongst the thousands of others
and quickly joined the queue for my stamp and food. The staff were doing a pretty good job considering the
numbers of riders they had to deal with and so, after about a hour and a half, I was back on the bike again.
After initially going due west to Loupfougeres, the next leg went in a north-west loop through Ambrieres-
les-Vallees and Gorron to the Control at 310kms in Fougeres. On route, During the first night, there
hadn't been too many spectators cheering us on after leaving the suburbs of south-west Paris but as it was
now just after midday on Tuesday, there was a good crowd welcoming us as we rode through the streets of
Fougeres. Another hour and a half hour was spent getting a stamp and food before I was off again. There
was always groups of riders leaving so it was just a case of tacking onto one and it always consisted of
mixed nationalities so conversation was very limited except for the voluble Italians!
The next leg was a short one via Sens-de-Bretagne to Tinteniac and it passed uneventfully apart from
meeting up with my friend, Brian. In the cold and damp conditions, he was suffering and at the next village,
he dropped off the back of the group to apparently stock up on some calories at a LIDL store. I also
saw a 'character' on a very old bicycle dressed as a French onion-seller complete with a string of onions
hanging from his handlebars. As I passed him, I greeted him with a friendly, "Ah, monsieur l'oignon."
A little while later, I was caught by Dave Pilbeam on his band-new flat-barred crosser - as usual, he was
really going well and soon left me behind. It was nearly 8pm as I arrived at the control and went through
the same procedure, queue, stamp. queue, food and eat. As it had been cold and wet for most of the ride, I
had not lost too much fluid but I was having difficulty in swallowing food so everything was having to be
washed down with a litre of water. I had planned to get as far as possible before needing any sleep so I
was soon back on the bike again. Emerging from the control, the rain which had eased off, made an appearance
again and as darkness began to fall, it was another miserable ride through St.Meen-le-Grand, where I stopped
briefly for a banana and a bag of chips when the rain was at it's worst. It was then on through La
Trinite-le-Porhoet to the control at Loudeac. Now midnight, I ate and chatted with some colleagues from
the UK discussing our options - sleep here or press on to Carhaix-Plouguer. I had planned to press on as
did Brian, who had a hotel booked near Carhaix, but I was talked into believing that it was not a good idea
due to the nature of the road, the time and the fact that we had already been on the road for some 26hours.
Reluctantly, I joined the queue for the dormitory and got 3hours sleep before resuming my ride at around
3.45am on Wednesday morning - I now only had about 1hour in hand!
The bunches of riders had now dwindled down to just twos and threes so I would pick up a wheel for a
while and then forge on to the next small bunch and this way I managed to leap-frog my way to the next
control which happened to be a 'secret control' just after Corlay. I was amazed to see the guy with the
onions again at this control and later found out that it was an eccentric Englishman, Drew Buck, who rides
the PBP on various 'odd' bicycles. This time he was riding a 1920s 2-speed bicycle with rod-pull brakes;
the high gear was selected by pedalling forwards and the lower gear by pedalling backwards! I take my hat
off to him.
I had a quick stop and set off again for Carhaix where I had managed to make up three quarters of an
hour so another quick stop and I was off again on the last leg to the halfway point in Brest. After some
30kms, I started on the climb to the high point of the ride, Roc Trevezel at some 380m(1200ft). Patches
of blue sky appeared and with the climbing, a stop to remove my rain jacket, and my longs was required
to prevent over-heating! However, none of the climbs were severe - they were just incredibly long so I
eventually crested the top, took a photo and then set off down the other side
As I neared the coast, the south-westerly began to increase in strength and the route went right
down to cross the estuary of the Elorn on the Pont Albert Louppe where everyone stopped to take photos.
A few steep climbs followed and some meandering to the control in the town of Brest so it was mid-
afternoon as I was welcomed by the cheering crowds. I wasn't feeling too bad but this was only as far as
I had ever cycled before and I was only halfway through the ride. So, with one eye on the time, I didn't
hang around and set off again with the wind now on my back. The climb up Roc Trevezel was much easier and
I was soon back in Carhaix-Plouguer before darkness, however the dormitory in Loudeac beckoned. Donning my
rain jacket and longs against the cold conditions once more, I set off after a short stop on the next 76kms
leg.
The first part of this section wasn't too difficult as the route meandered through rolling countryside
to the 'secret control' again but then, after leaving Corlay, I encountered a series of long climbs. It was
now the early hours of the morning and with all the climbing at this distance, tiredness started setting in.
On the few short descents inbetween the climbs, I was having to keep shaking my head to stay awake - it
also stopped my neck from aching too - and I was extremely relieved to reach the control in Loudeac again.
After getting my Brevet stamp and some food, I went straight to the dormitory and got my head down for
another 2hours.
I was now back to just over one hour in hand again, so off I went again chasing from one bunch to
another. At one point, I saw a fleeting glimpse of Colin & Sonia Crawford from Scotland on their tandem as
they went past like an express train with one or two solos tagging on behind but they were way too fast for
me. The kilometres now became a blurr as one road rolled into another and it was just a case of turning the
pedals. Dawn on Thursday 23rd had emerged but as it was another grey day, I took no notice except for
turning off my lights and reaching the control at Tinteniac around mid-morning was the only highlight.
After eating as much food as I could get down, I set off again and just kept on ticking off the
distance as I was into unknown territory now. My backside was starting to suffer and I was getting hot-foot
but as it was the coldest and wettest PBP for many years, it made it all a little more bearable. Occasionally,
I would take advantage of the local people who would be standing on the roadside offering free drinks and
thank for them encouragement. In one village during a sudden heavy downpour, the smell emanating from a
barbecue plus a large plastic tent was attracting riders like flies so I joined them until the rain eased
a little. Also, somewhere on this return ride, I met up with Phil & Mary Turner on their tandem and so
we kept each other company for many miles. We didn't stop long in the control at Fougeres as there
wasn't too much spare time and as the 1000kms mark beckoned at Villaines-la-Juhel, we pressed on. As it
was, I was already well on my way to 1000kms having done the extra 14kms on the first stage!
Darkness had just descended as I rolled into the control at Villaines and it was definitely less-crowded
so I was soon sitting down and tucking into a couple of baguettes de jambon - my appetite had returned!
All around were littered space blankets, some occupied and some just left behind so I grabbed a free one
and snatched an hours sleep on the hard concrete floor! When I awoke and set off, I had no more than about
half an hour to spare but I was feeling much better - apart from the backside and hot feet! However, I only
had a 200km ride to the finish and that was nothing or it would have been if it hadn't been for the previous
1000kms! Phil & mary had gone on ahead so back on my own, Village after village past by and I reached the
control at Mortagne-au-Perche in the early hours of the morning, had a short stop and pressed on for the
last control in Dreux. I had made up a bit more time mainly because the timing on the return from Brest had
been quite generous so I now had about a hour and a half spare.
This time, I made sure I stuck to the route sheet through Gambais and soon I was rolling along quite
wide roads heading for the suburbs of Paris in the company of four or five Americans. I caught sight of
one rider at the roadside arranging a combination of three spare tubes around his head and the rear of his
saddle! I, for my part, had taken the advice to keep moving my head around and to my surprise, I suffered
no neck pains whatsoever! All was looking good until we reached Trappes and then every set of traffic
lights caught us. On top of this, queueing traffic in Guyancourt slowed us even more, some took to the
footpaths/sidewalks whereas I just rode down the outside of the traffic. Thankfully, some police officers
waved us through and suddenly, I was heading around the final roundabout lined by hundreds of cheering
spectators. Someone shouted out, "well done, Horsham!"(I was wearing their top) and I thanked them even
though I didn't see them.
I had made it with about one hour to spare however I still had to get my card stamped and that meant
another queue. I met Phil & Mary again at the gymnasium and Mary directed me straight to the nearest queue
and so I got a stamp with about 30minutes to go. I had actually ridden 1241kms in 61hrs 25minutes but with
the all the stops at the controls plus 6hrs of sleep, it made a total time of 89hrs 30minutes! Packed in
my Vaude rear-bag, I had a dozen spare AAA batteries, 3 spare tubes, 1 spare tyre, a wind-up LED torch with
mobile 'phone connector and an inflatable travel pillow and I never used any of them! The most useful item -
Savlon!
In the food tent at the finish and on the ferry home, I caught up with some UK colleagues and picked
up some news. Because of the very inclement weather, the drop-out rate had been higher than normal - some
1600 riders didn't make it. Sheila Simpson had a great ride, so did Dave Pilbeam, Jack Williams and Richard
Thomas. Dave from Kent got clipped by an Italian(not surprising) and the resultant fall broke his arm,
Richard Phipps fell off but had no knowledge why and Paul Dytham ate something that didn't agree with him
and was too ill to continue.
What of my friend who got me into this, I hear you ask? Well, he too suffered from a stomach upset and
packed at Brest. Would I do it again? Immediately after the ride, the answer was most definitely 'No!' but
months later, scars healed and numbness gone, I keep looking at my close-call with the time limit and
thinking 'I can do better than that - weather permitting, of course!
The author at the halfway point(Pont Albert Louppe) in Brest
-----------------------------
Dave Galle