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By admin, September 7, 2007 8:50 pm

by Stephen Herrick

The end of Daylight Savings, and the beginning of dark by 5 o’clock is enough to make any cyclist trade in their Gatorade for a bottle of scotch, but we just might have a way to take the sting out of it. June and I, and another friend took off last Sunday and drove up 101 to Windsor for a ride through some of the premier vineyards in Sonoma County. The leaves were turning their fall colors, the weather was crisp, but not too cold, and the countryside was absolutely gorgeous. I’m from New England, and believe me, I’m not easily impressed with fall foliage unless it’s truly something special. We had such a good time that we have decided to make it an annual event on the Sunday when the clocks “fall behind.”

We started out on Old Redwood Highway just north of Santa Rosa, and climbed up Chalk Hill. (A piece of cake when you’re not coming at it from the opposite direction after 80 or 100 miles on the Wine Country Century!) Then out the back roads to Geyserville, where the local schools were putting on a Fall Colors Festival with antique classic cars, barbeques, and a chicken-poop lottery. We had lunch, and then crossed over Highway 101 and headed back on West Dry Creek, and Westside roads. A quick stop at a couple of wineries, (it is the end of the season after all,) over the Wohler Bridge, and we returned to Windsor. A nice paced metric century with just over 2000 feet of climbing, and of course, the spectacular scenery. We modified it a bit, but a full description of the basic ride can be found on the Santa Rosa Cycling Club’s website at http://www.srcc.com, under “10 Great Rides,” “Alexander Valley and Russian river Valley.”

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By admin, August 9, 2007 9:01 pm

by Kitty Goursolle

Paris-Brest-Paris is 1225 km long, or about 760 miles. 90 hours are allowed to complete it. There’s about 35,000 ft of climbing, all in smaller hills and rollers. It’s death (to your legs) by 1000 cuts!  But the huge number (5200) of participants and the enthusiastic support of the French people give PBP a special spirit found nowhere else. The long periods of rain this year made it the most difficult PBP since 1957. The usual finishing percent is about 88%, but for 2007, only about 70% of the starters were able to finish.

Thanks go to Mike Hrast who gave me the idea to do PBP in 2005. He also convinced Don Cartwright to go as well.  The three of us did a lot of long rides to get ready, but there really is no one way to train for such an event. It’s understood that a rider attempting PBP will do lots of miles and will be able to survive tough conditions. The mind is just as important as the body in an event this long. Thankfully, I was able to remain confident, optimistic and in good humor throughout.

Before I started, I had planned how far I’d ride before sleeping. I had a time goal of 86 hours and a general idea of how to pace each segment of the ride. I didn’t try so much to ride fast, but instead made an effort to ride as efficiently as possible, and above all, not to waste time in the controls. It went pretty much as planned, but I had to skimp on sleep the last night out to finish with a comfortable margin of about 3 hours. What actually happened was that I rode 280 miles in the first segment, then slept for 3 hours, followed by 200 miles and another 3 hour sleep, then 140 miles and 1.5 hours of sleep, followed by the last 140 miles to the finish. The wet roads and poor visibility slowed everybody down. I finished in 86:40, very close to my goal time of 86 hours. But I gave up about 2 hours of sleep on my last night to do it. I slept just enough to stay safe on the bike and avoid hallucinations!

There were some frightening and painful moments. I saw a pair of riders ahead of me skid and crash on some wet,oily pavement. I was sure I’d be next, but something saved me. It took a while to relax again after that. Later on, the constant dampness took its toll– I was getting a bad case of “immersion foot”. It looked awful, and felt like my feet were on fire!  I had to stop often to change socks and tried my best to keep my feet dried off. The other difficult times were the early morning hours after dawn. The short sleeps were finally catching up with me and I knew that if I were to get off the bike and rest, I would be out like a light and probably not wake up for hours. So I pushed myself through it, with lots of help from the riders and the wonderful French people all along the route who gave out coffee, cake, water, and snacks, and most of all, their encouragement. “Bon Courage!” “C’est une femme! Elle est belle!” really worked like a charm to boost my spirits. Translation: Good Courage! That’s a woman! She’s cute!

My best moments were arriving at Brest, the halfway point, and knowing that I was doing fine and would finish PBP on time.  I loved climbing Roc-Trevezel and reaching the “top” of PBP, with a 360 degree view of the surrounding countryside and drafting a wonderfully fast California tandem from the top of the Roc all the way to Brest, setting a blistering pace in some of the few sunny hours of the whole ride. I finally found my legs on the 3rd rainy afternoon and attacked the rolling hills on the way back to Paris with great delight. It was great fun talking (in my high school French) to the many people who waited along the route and slapping five with the kids. Finally, I was rolling to the finish, cheered on by big crowds, and feeling so happy that I thought my heart might burst.

It’s not about the bike, according to Lance, but just in case anyone is curious, I rode my 8-year old Litespeed Ultimate that you see me on rain or shine.  The “naked” bike is 17.5 lbs. Wheels are Mavic Open Pro’s built on Ultegra hubs, 32 spokes, 3 cross,  tires are Conti 4000’s , size 25, inflated  to 90-95 psi. Bombproof! (I think!)  Brooks B-17 seat with cut out done by Sella Anatomica. I still added a gel pad to it after the 2nd day. Drive train: Dura-Ace cassette 12-27, FSA triple crank 50/39/28. I could crawl up anything with ease in these gears.  For PBP, you must have a bike that is totally reliable, comfortable, and proven. I wore shimano mountain bike shoes mated with speedplay frog pedals. The mtb shoes and pedals didn’t slow me down at all and were great for walking in—thanks to Mark and Amy Able for this idea! I saw plenty of tired PBP riders falling down slippery stone stairs or on wet floors in their road cleats…pity.

A PBP bike has to carry some essential items, so I rode with a Bento Box on the top tube and in back, Mark’s rack from Rivendell and a Carradice Cadet seat bag. I carried a large size waterbottle filled with dry Cytomax, a pound of Perpetium, and two gel bottles (about 8 oz).of Hammergel. I was motivated to eat these things up and lighten my load, plus I was able to skip quite a few long lines at the controls by eating my own food. I carried an extra pair of socks and shorts, which I changed every 200 km or so. I had three spare tubes, a crank bros. mini tool, a set of derailleur cables, tire irons, zip ties, chain lube, a seatpost collar and binder bolt. With all of that, my 17.5 lb. bike was closer to 26 lbs., but that wasn’t a bad for a PBP. I never had any mechanical problems or flats, and I was sure to wipe down and re-lube the chain every night. Very important things stayed in a pouch that hung around my neck. They were my money (200 euros), and the PBP plastic ID and brevet card. If the brevet card is lost, you might as well quit, since without it, you have no proof that you have completed the route. I did not carry a wallet or my passport, but I did have my Calif. driver’s licence and medical insurance card in the neck pouch.

I wore wool jerseys throughout PBP, and usually needed a layer of long underwear under that for the colder hours of nighttime. All the colorful lightweight jerseys I hoped to wear stayed in the drop bag!  I wore the usual bike shorts and leg warmers, with wool socks and shoe covers during the rain, plus Rainlegs and a rain jacket. A Headsweats hat with a large brim went under my helmet.  This was big help in keeping the rain off of my glasses. I got a new pair of Rudy Project  prescription flip-up glasses and had very little trouble with them fogging, a big plus for me after some very miserable times with fogged glasses last winter. My hands were happy in gloves with gel padding, liner gloves, and gore tex overmitts for the rain.  I carried extra socks and shorts to change into, and if the weather got better, the outerwear layer would go into the Carradice bag in back. (That didn’t happen very often.)

I said before that it wasn’t possible to “train” for PBP, but this is what I did and what worked for me. Since the fall of 2004, I’ve been riding to work most days and tend to average about 120 commute miles a week, plus another 80—120 miles on weekends doing club rides, or organized centuries or double centuries.  I usually have about 8,000–12,000 ft of climbing in a week.  In 2006, I rode around 12,000 miles, and in 2005, about 10,000 miles.  I allowed myself two years to build up to a 1200 k distance. In 05, I rode about 6 double centuries, including the Calif. Triple Crown stage race, 10 solo centuries, and did about 8,000 miles for the year. In ’06 I did a brevet series, the Cascade 1200, 6 double centuries, the stage race, plus about 20 solo centuries. This year, 2007 was the PBP year so I did a 1000k, the PBP qualifying brevet series of 200-300-400-600 km rides, and 8 double centuries leading up to PBP. Included were about four rides that were longer than 20 hours each, all of which involved going overnight without sleeping. I raced in the California triple crown stage race too. These doubles were great training for putting both speed and distance together.  The frosting on the cake was winning the women’s division of the stage race for the 2nd time in 3 years! (As before, some really fast women didn’t show up!)

The year’s best “dress rehearsals” for PBP were: Riding the Portland to Glacier 1000 k and limiting my sleep each night to under 4 hours, and second, riding my Fleche team’s 24 hour route in about 21 hours, and following this up with a 3 hour sleep and then a solo 140 miles. The toughest rides to finish were two of the shortest—a 200k in 06 and a 300k in 07 as both had over 10 hours of continuous rain, in January and February on California’s North Coast. Add a headwind, darkness and complete solitude to the pouring rain and you have found the perfect training environment for this year’s PBP.

I had so much “fun” in 2007 that I’ve already begun to make plans for the next PBP in 2011. I hope someone who reads this will think, “If she can do it, so can I!”  It was the ride of a lifetime, and an experience well worth the effort involved.

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By admin, June 9, 2007 8:45 pm

by Kitty Goursolle

The idea of riding point-to-point across 4 states for 1000 km or 624 miles really fascinated me and I signed up for this ride right away. My $185 was well spent, which included a required membership in the Oregon Randonneurs, abundant dinners and breakfasts, and motels for the 3 nights. Plus, it would be a good shakedown ride for the PBP 1200 km coming up in August 2007. My boyfriend Bob even volunteered to fly me there and pick me up at the finish in his beautiful little Beech Bonanza. We decided to leave on Wednesday, June 27, as the next two days were going to be rainy with low clouds a scud, no fun in a small plane crossing mountains. Our flight was quick with a nice tailwind, 2h45m, beats driving and even the airlines when you factor in wait-in-line time. For the next two days, I rode only about 15 miles of the beginning of the 1000 k and we did some sightseeing, cherry picking and wine tasting around Mt. Hood and the Gorge.

Day 1: 400 km, Troutdale, Or to Connell, WA. At the 5 am start, I met up with Linda Bott, my friend and fellow double century specialist. We would ride most of the 1000k together. We began with about 200 miles of riding east along the Columbia River Gorge, then north for 50 miles to finish in the farmlands of Connell. Beautiful waterfalls and rock formations, not to mention the giant river. The route was rolling hills with a light tailwind all day, and the scenery went from forest to farmland. We finished at 12:40 a.m. at our first overnight control, the M and M Motel. Dinner was ready for us when we came in, and breakfast was served the next morning, thanks to the dedicated volunteers from the Oregon Randonneurs club. I did something new for me -after shower and dinner, I took an ice bath for my legs right before bed and dosed up on ibuprofen (600mg). I got into bed at 1:30 a.m. with my ear plugs in and my black eye shades on-we were going to be sharing a room and I didn’t want to be woken up later on.

Day 2: 300 km, Connell, WA to Kellogg, ID. Three hours of sleep. I knew I’d be very slow the next day after a 250 miler, so I was up at 4:30, ate breakfast, and was off by 5:15 a.m., with plenty of daylight already. We crossed the “scablands” of the Wastunka Coolee, where a gigantic flood carved the land into canyons and mesas. Many rolling hills, more farm country. But off in the northeast, in Idaho, the Rocky Mountains and forests waited. A highlight of today’s journey was the Coeur d’Alene bike trail, 53 miles that followed the lakeshore and took us all the way into our 2nd overnight in Kellogg. More dinner and breakfast as before, same ice bath to reduce swelling and inflammation…it helped quite a lot. We got in fairly early on day 2, at10:15 p.m., but somehow I still only got about 4 hour of sleep. After the ice bath, I got hungry again and got up to eat a 2nd dinner. Much to my surprise, there was a rider going out at 12:30 a.m. who had gotten in earlier and said he’d had his 3 hours of sleep and was ready to go. I saw a few more riders arrive, then finally went to sleep for the 2nd time at about 1 a.m.

Day 3: 300 km, Kellogg, WA to Whitefish, MT (finish!) I was up at 4:30 a.m. without the alarm clock and on the road again by 5 a.m. This is getting to be a habit! We were on the same bike trail for a few more miles before leaving it to climb the two big passes of the day. Not long after starting, I encountered a moose on the trail, and she wasn’t inclined to move along. I hung back and sang her a really stupid song about a moose on a bicycle, which worked like a charm to hurry her along. I kept rolling along and up the first climb, Dobson Pass, 5 miles and 1500 ft, piece of cake in my 27 x 28. At the bottom, met up with Linda again, saw moose#2, happily it was chewing grass in a swamp, not walking the road. We climbed the 2nd big pass of the day, Thompson Pass, and had a great descent on the other side. Thanks to riding the Devil Mountain, Muholland, Central Coast, and Terrible Two California double centuries, none of the climbs here seemed very long or hard. But there were many shorter climbs and descents, setting a pattern for the rest of the day. When we topped the hill that overlooked Flathead Lake, we had a magnificent view of the gateway to Glacier Park and and 40 more miles of big rollers to the finish. Linda and I finished at 12:15 a.m., on Tuesday, July 3rd, for a total time of 67h15m.

The next day, I met up with Bob and we rented a car to take the scenic drive around Glacier National Park on the “Going to the Sun” highway. I was still pretty sore and tired, so a car trip was just fine with me. Then on Wednesday, July 4th, I felt good enough to hike 5 miles in to see Avalanche Lake…and take my last “ice bath” in its chilly waters! We saw a huge fireworks show that night in Whitefish, and flew home Thursday, taking about 5 hours to get back to Concord. By today, Friday, July 6, my legs stopped being sore and I rode 30 easy miles on the Blvd. PBP, here I come….