Le return.

The mood in the pub was sombre.

Now, I do like a good de-brief. I like the analysis of success and failure and I like to know how to do things better next time. Next time ? Did someone mention a 'next time' ? 

It appears that whilst we licked our wounds after London to Paris in July, we had all come to the same conclusion independently - we had to go back and do it again, or forfeit the right to own a penis. We needed to finish the job and put the challenge to rest.

So, the mood in the pub lightened as we planned le return. 

Fast forward two months and our intrepid team gather in front of the Eye for the re-start. 
.

.
A few things had changed. We had Lee along to help with the support and he and Abe would also ride alternate sections. It was also Autumn, so quite unlikely we would have to deal with 41 degrees of heat this time, but very likely we would be riding in darkness for about 10 hours and it would be colder and wetter. 

The plan was to start at lunchtime and avoid the London rush-hour. This, sort of, worked, but we still only managed a measly 8mph until we got to Blackheath - although spirits were high, smiles wide and ar$es dry (for now).
.

.
We hopped onto the Cycle path for a mile or so to avoid the narrows along Blackheath Common but had our first slip up as the path crossed a feeder road. Martin stopped a bit quick and, in an attempt to avoid him, Simon hit the deck and was clipped by my pedal on the way past for good measure. No real damage done. Martin's fault (again).

I don't think any of us were too worried about the London to Dover section. It's pretty straightforward in terms of navigation and difficulty but it is a busy route. We just needed to get it out of the way and not miss the ferry or it would be game over.

We knew we were also likely to encounter the odd shower en route, but a little surprised with the amount of water on the road at times. At one stage, the continuous puddle along the side of the road was about 4' wide and the spray from each other and the traffic was horrendous. Lee found a lay-by and we stopped for a quick break. 

We ate. 

Johnny emptied his shoes. Scott emptied his bladder (picture available on Facebook).

We were a couple of hours in and no real dramas so far, but it was particularly uncomfortable. It was about now, when all the things that could get damaged by the rain were jettisoned. So there is little pictorial evidence of the next four hours (except, of course that dot on Strava). We arrived in Dover, bang on schedule, after six hours and we were absolutely soaked through. This was within minutes of the last attempt and represented five hours pedal time and an overall average of about 16mph. Not bad considering the first hour was so slow, conditions were so poor and the traffic so heavy. 

Changing prior to getting on the ferry was a little more problematic as we were temporarily separated from the van. Then we suffered another nasty shower just as we had got the dry clothes on. We were wet again, already.

We ride to the front of lane 185 (spooky, or is it always 185 for bikes?) and we find out that the ferry being loaded isn't ours, but the one that should have left at 18:30. The very helpful chap suggested we take refuge in Costa rather than stand in the rain, and says we can jump to the front of the queue when we get the call. Delayed Ferry ? Deja Vu ? Here we go again .. Bugger.

Luckily, the call comes shortly after the coffee and we are loaded up and away only half an hour behind schedule. In Calais, we tried to get a fast-track exit but the Load-master was having none of it, so we waited our turn and pedaled off last (again). We were all ready to rumble this time and, after a brief RV with the van, we set off in the drizzle towards the town centre. 

Johnny and I were at the front, chatting, as we went round the roundabout onto le Rue du Quai de la Loire and BOSH - we are both on the floor. A slow-mo synchronized crash as we both hit the very wet and slippery railway lines that cross the road at an alarmingly oblique angle. Luckily, our misadventure gave the rest of team enough time to stop (laughing) before they joined us on the floor. A few grazes, new holes in the clothing, a bruise or two, but nothing we couldn't pedal off over the next thirteen hours. We were (all) a bit more careful over the rest of the train lines I can tell you !

The night plan was to knuckle down and keep to the script. It was only eight hours or so but we need to keep up a decent riding speed to allow for stoppages and mis-haps.
.

.
And that picture just about sums up night riding. You can't see much apart from the guy in front, who's light is invariably too bright. You can't enjoy the surroundings. You have no conception of scale, speed or distance and navigation is trickier. The whole thing becomes an exercise in discipline. Break it down into mental milestones, Boulogne sur Mer at 25 miles, Military Cemetery at 40, onto the flat bit now and through the marshes. Feet freezing as the cold air rolls in and sits on the ground. Very few cars about, no-one awake except us, save the MP3 player for later when it gets tougher, aha - van has stopped and Abe is pouring coffee :-) Pause, eat, drink, repeat.

A lorry overtakes us at one point and I smile as the courteous Frenchman drives right over the other side of the road to keep out of our way. I do love French drivers (when I am not driving). We are on a ribbon straight section of road through the trees and the lorry tail-lights take forever to disappear into the gloom. The smile has barely faded when Monsieur Angry appears behind us - lights flashing and giving us le horn. Caught like rabbits in the headlights, we are all too surprised to gesticulate. The car passes; it has an English number-plate. The next obvious word begins with a capital W.

About 03:45, and a few minutes after the Barn Owl took off from the fence post next to Martin, I noticed the road was now dry. Excellent, another milestone.

If you really want my opinion, I am not convinced you can ride in single file and swap the front man every four minutes for eight hours in the dark, we are not Team Sky. Most people have a low point, some have a few and they are never at the same time. So with seven riders you have between 15-30 chances of a serious accident if someone loses it just for a second. Night riding in a group is best done in your own groove. So find someone with a groove similar to yours and ride in two's and three's, keep together, but not too together if you see what I mean. The night went well for me as I do a lot at night and a lot on my own. Actually, the night went well for everyone because we had no real problems. The music in my starboard ear was good quality too.

And so it was we survived, and around 08:15 we rode out of the gloom and into the dawn to be greeted by a clear sky and the promise of a dry, cool and crisp autumn day. 
.

.

We stopped at Oisemeont for a well-earned 20 minutes breather and manage a hot coffee, food and a quick change of clothes. Johnny put a picture of his bruised thigh on Facebook. Scott then leads the charge up the first of the longer climbs in his rather trendy hi-viz waistcoat, presumably bought by his mum for his cycling proficiency test in 1991.  
.

.
Beauvais next, and the scene of le Grand Debacle last time. We are too smart this time round and opt for the slightly unpleasant, but very direct Beauvais by-pass. Think A21, past Pembury and you won't be far wrong. Quickly past the worst of it, over the river and back onto the quieter roads to join the original route. Six miles in 24 minutes, a bit better than the last attempt to get through / round Beauvais !

Shortly after Beauvais we are back on the long grind of a climb that took so much out of us last time in the heat. We have a very quick stop at the van to grab drinks and snacks but Scott and I are having a peaky five-minutes and decide that we need a few more minutes to eat and catch breath. The next scheduled stop is Amblainville, about six / seven miles away, but we need to get there in good order, so we suggest the others crack on and we will catch them up. 
.
Five minutes later and Scott and I are back in the game and we start to chase the others down. The relevant stats so far are that we have been awake for 24 hours, pedaling for 14 and have well over 200 miles in the bag, so I am not sure where the average speed of 22.8mph came from, but I do know we were all together at the next stop. BOOM as the young folk may say at this point. Top job Scott - I just followed.
.

.
Scott feels so good now, he changes into a new outfit ready for the finish line photo. Tart.  
I think we all knew we should crack it by now. But we still had Pontoise and Paris itself to deal with. Pontoise sounds very French, but it looks very Croydon. The ribbon straight D392 towards Bezons is like Purley Way but with much more courteous drivers thankfully. 

So, here we are again, exactly 14 miles to go. Normally 14 miles is an easy 45-50 minutes for any of us, even riding solo, but in London we had only averaged 8, so perhaps it may not be so straightforward after all ?

Traffic was thick, lights were frequent; correction - VERY frequent and we appear to get caught by every one. Progress was slow. We crossed the Seine for the first time but still couldn't see the Tower, presumably obscured by the high-rise of the business district. Not far now, but as we approach yet another set of lights we are caught out and Martin, Alex and Simon are off leaving Lee, Johnny, Scott and myself waiting for green. Two groups. 

As we set off, the lead group are approaching the next lights and, as they change to red, Martin slips through leaving Simon and Alex. Three groups. 

[Note - having checked on-line, I can now confirm that Martin must have identified the sneaky Strava segment along the Boulevard de Republique that, given a rolling start, may result in another KOM. Guess where the split occurred ? We are unsure whether he was successful as we refuse to ask. We also refuse to appear interested.] 

Over the Seine (again), and through the city as we rattle across the pave towards the Arc de Triomphe. We lose Johnny for a few seconds but stop and re-group before we roll up to the free-for-all that is the world's favourite no-holds-barred, come-on-if-you're-hard-enough 'roundabout'. Lights are red (surprise surprise) and Johnny shouts 'fourth' exit as the lights change and I set off with arm out and menacing look on my face across the cobbles. All traffic gives way for us as we ride four abreast but we take the third exit by mistake. Double mistake because it should have been the fifth ! Bugger. We still can't see the Tower and it is within a mile now.

Down the Rue du Lauriston for a hundred yards, left at the lights, straight over the next two sets of light, right onto Avenue d'lena and we are on track again with Scott in front - who proceeds to jump the next lights as we lose Johnny behind again. Lee and I stop to wait for Johnny. Scott disappears down the road. Five groups, temporarily.  

Not even I could make this up. 

Luckily 'Stato' (who can't visit the lavatory without plotting a route with way points and rest stops) has downloaded proof of the group's misadventure. This is not to prove how we fell apart with a mile to go, more to prove that he arrived first. Again. 
.

.
As you can see from the Strava image, I do not exist. Actually, I simply followed the others all day because I do not have a posh Garmin and, even if I did, I would not be able to see it without my glasses. I am at the back (as usual) with Johnny and Lee, honest.

So with 19 minutes to spare Martin arrived. As is the case with the last day of any major French Tour, providing the peloton is together when you reach Paris, you are all awarded the same time. So despite losing the sprint to Martin and being last in with only 10 minutes to spare, Johnny, Lee and myself have exercised the right to be awarded the same time.  
.

.
After the victory picture under the Eiffel Tower with the thousands of people who had come along to the finish, we then had another two miles to the hotel ! That was nearly a step too far I can tell you. First on the Agenda was (manly hugs, followed by) a quick beer. Thinking back, we had two beers, maybe three.
.

.
Then, being good lads, we checked into the hotel, put the bikes in our rooms and sorted the gear out. 
.

.

Celebrations lasted well into the night (21:15) and involved a hearty meal and, I think, three more beers ! We left the restaurant as the All Blacks scored the second try against France in the seventh minute. We went to bed and forgot the champagne. 

Sunday morning we take the tube to the Trocadero for the 'calendar' shoot ...

.

.
... followed by coffee and, by 11:00, Alex, Abe and myself are in the van on the way home. 

We pull over onto the hard shoulder near Amiens and put the bonnet up. Abe stands by the van holding his head in despair and we post the picture on Facebook with the caption 'not again!' We chuckle, like the fools we are. 

We drive on and wait for the response. Simon ignores it, Johnny post a capture from Strava (yes, Stato and Saddo have it switched on whilst in the train) to say they are doing 171.9 mph whilst eating a silver-service lunch. Finally, Scott gets in touch to say they will be in the Wheaty in 45 minutes. Rasp. We get to Calais, they are in the Wheaty on pint #2. Rasp. We get back to Crowborough and they are all at home in bed. Light-weights.
.
Stats :
.

.
We also have available some detailed analysis of performance v target, comparisons of July to October, split-time analysis, altitude gain, humidity / temperature by time and latitude and finally a detailed breakdown of reduced performance against increasing temperature (taken from the July ride). If you would like to share any of this yummy data either get in touch with Martin or, alternatively, try to get out more. 

Would I do it again ?  No.
Could I do it again  ? Yes, pretty straight-forward if the public transport is on schedule. It's just long, but I can do long.
Should you do it ?     Yes, while you still can. 

Massive thanks to the support team of Abe and Lee for all the encouragement, navigation, re-fueling, hot brews and comedy moments. 

Alex, Johnny, Martin, Scott and Simon for your company, tolerance and support. 

The 'girls' we left at home and who have supported us all year while we take part in another set of slightly bonkers events in preparation for this. You know who you are ladies, without you none of this is possible and we (men) would all be fatter and much less interesting :-) xx

All the members of Wealden Cycle Club with whom we have ridden this year. The more we all ride (together) the more we are all able to ride. 

Alex for the idea and inviting us all along and, finally, everyone who supported and sponsored us and made the effort worthwhile. 

Total so far £6729.87.