The PBP is on next year. Have you heard of that? Paris-Brest-Paris. It’s a bit like the world cup of cycle touring because it only happens every four years. Essentially a huge number of touring cyclists ride from Paris to Brest then back to Paris again in one go. At 1200k this is no mean achievement. There are refreshment halls and marshalling points every few hundred kilometres and during the ride you pretty much sleep where you fall. Then wake up again and keep going. It’s madness, its reputation is legendary and thousands do it every time it comes around.
It gets worse. Being so hard, the organisers don’t just let you turn up and ride. You have to meet some strict qualifying criteria by doing preparation rides organised by Audax UK in this country. Which means that between April and June you have to complete separate 200, 300, 400 and 600km rides before the event itself which starts on August 20th and finishes on 24th . Fancy a gentle 600k ride anyone? I remember a mate doing these rides in preparation for the 2003 PBP and he pretty much started in Reading, popped over to Norwich then went up to Birmingham via Wolverhampton, before going back to Swindon. Overnight. In the rain. The PBP itself was twice as long as that. His arse was bleeding at the end of it. His wife instigated divorce proceedings over it. There’s not a judge in the land who wind find against her in a situation like that.
If you fancy having a crack at it, (or you just need a good excuse for a divorce) check out the AUK website which is here: http://www.audax.uk.net/pbp/index.htm
The reason I bring it up is that during a Sunday lunch at my house following the Redmon GP de Gentlemen, three of my mates made a drunken, Faustian pact that they would ride the PBP in 2007. You’ll have noticed that I don’t include myself in their plans because even an 8ft thick alcoholic haze couldn’t blind me to the madness inherent in all of this. So I quickly drew up a contract and got the hapless three to sign it in their own blood (well alright a little red wine, but you get the picture). Anyway the three now have to complete all four preparation rides as well as the PBP itself or forever be branded boastful drunks, unable to fulfil their outrageous claims.
All three are crack time triallists. Richard Hallett and James Shrubsall have in the past already completed the PBP. The third, Simon Smythe, being an ace short to middle distance tester, has never ridden more than 50 miles without suffering severe leg cramps. Suddenly the three have been pitched headlong into that realm of Pluto, which is the lot of the ‘Touring Cyclist.’ It’s a mantle which fits snugly onto the shoulders of both Hallett and Shrubsall, but hangs scruffily on the back of Smythe like a wet woollen cycling jersey. Nevertheless the intrepid three this morning set off for their first tour (before they embarked I was intent on secretly concealing half a breeze block under the contents of one of Smythe’s panniers, until some do-gooder talked me out of it) – a three day epic from Croydon to Winchester and beyond into the New Forest before returning to Croydon via a different route. There are pub lunches planned for each day and pub dinners planned for each evening. Knowing these three its not easy to see how much actual riding time they might fit in in-between drinking sessions and indeed the first cursory phone call to enquire as to their progress, mid morning on day one, revealed that our intrepid trio had only reached a café in Dorking, where the siren like call of bacon frying had proven stronger than any romantic ideal of the open road and lured them in for a full English. I anticipate tales of Jeromeian proportions on their return (should they ever make it of course).
Anyway, Cycle Touring. Now there’s something that confounds me. Riding lightweight bikes up hills is hard enough but touring seems to entail building the heaviest bicycle possible, then making it even heavier, with panniers full of essential stuff required to survive the interminable amount of time you’re forced to spend on the bike due to the excess weight meaning it takes you forever to get anywhere. There’s a queer symmetry here.
Touring experts can somehow pack entire households of equipment and clothing down into two panniers. So adept are they at packing everything down to half it’s physical size, they create extra space to carry twice as much and therefore end up worse off. Touring panniers are the black holes of the cycling world.