P2G 2017

2015 was a hectic cycling year and my first year riding with a road club. I bought a road bike (a cross bike actually, but close enough) and spent (and still do) as much time with the coffee and cake gang in Group 2 knocking out 30 milers, as I did with the more serious mile-munchers in Group 5. I had a baptism of fire, thankfully fueled by some hard training rides on the mountain bike. My first ride over 50 miles was 96 and both Alex and I completed our first 100 on the same day as our first 200 during the 205 mile-long Chase the Sun. CTS was one of our final training sessions for London to Paris - the event where we fell short of the '285 miles in 24 hour' target on the first attempt but went back in October and did it properly. The details are in the archive ... 

In 2016 I had a year off from cycling madness, despite racking up just shy of 6000km mostly on the single-speed and mostly between cafes. 
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You get itchy though. You need something a little out of the ordinary just to keep you on your toes. So, I smiled when it was announced that we were putting the band back together in 2017. After much deliberation, we decided to continue our journey around Europe's capital cities and ride from Paris to Geneva. Abe and Martin set to work mapping it out. Abe, Alex, Johnny, Martin, Richard, Simon and I are getting quite good at this now. We all have a little something we bring to the party, we are all different but it tends to work out alright in the end. 

For this one, we decide to split the ride into three chunks, and divert through our twin town of Montargis for no other reason than getting a photo by the sign !
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We squeeze in a big ride together every month, I manage weekly 100's in the final month or two and, two weeks before the event, we have back to back 125 milers (with early starts) over a single weekend. I felt tired, very tired, but I haven't been let down by my training methods so far and anticipate that a couple of active-rest weeks will see me right. 

Whilst this is all going on, Abe has been unwell with a serious blood disorder and has been undergoing a course of chemo along with some regular blood transfusions to boost his oxygen carrying / infection fighting capability. It is touch and go whether he will be fit to go and, even if he is, he may need some help. So we enlist Leonie as extra driver, caterer and all-round soigneur to the team. Thankfully, Abe feels well enough to come along, so the band is back-together.  
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Martin and I drive the van to Paris. Not because we enjoy spending time together, more that I have a need to catch up with someone for a beer ! Martin is a helpful soul, and  even points out the speed camera outside Dover but only after I had driven past it too quickly. Simon will be happy if he gets a speeding ticket whilst he is on the Eurostar. 

Martin and I find the hotel first time but are not so lucky with the parking space. We abandon the van in an electric car charging bay and scour the car windscreens for 'soon-to-be-expiring' parking tickets. BINGO - a large space will become due in twenty minutes, so we loiter. We have the van sorted and I am showered and out by six and wandering off towards the Fontain Saint Michel to have beers with the lovely Beth (below) and Adrien. 
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What a great catch-up; but the smile soon fades when the garcon brings the bill. I hadn't realized we had to pay ground rent whilst drinking in Paris, although I guess London would be as bad.

I wandered back and spotted the guys in a cafe close to the hotel. Le Petit Cardinal on Rue Mongue, served some good value food and nice beer. In the end, we only had a couple and got to bed at a reasonable time. I had a somewhat squiffy night in the very stuffy room and woke about 04:30 with dreadful stomach ache and general headache / dehydration. I sneaked out of the room without waking Martin (I think) and wandered off to find the all-night chemist / cafe. After searching the district for several blocks in all directions I found nothing open. By the time I got back, the others were up and I cobbled together some out-of-date medication from everyone's toilet bags and drank a water bottle off the bike. A quick snack (granola bar) later and we were ready for the off - I felt like shit on a stick.
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The Eiffel Tower was in the wrong direction, but it is where we finished last time. It was a good plan to start there because Abe and Len could cycle with us, grab a random to take the team photo and then back via the hotel, pick up the van and start the ride proper. It wasn't far but it took forever with the traffic, lights and minor diversions. Almost two hours after setting off we had ridden 5.8 miles and taken two photos but, after a quick change of outfit, we were now good to go. 
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The first scheduled stop was the bridge over the Seine in Melun. Simon, Martin, Johnny, me and Alex traversing the cobbles. Abe and Len had stayed close most of the way in case of issues but we arrived in decent time and in pretty good order. We had managed to stay on-track without navigational mishaps and averaged about 11mph which isn't bad for the roads through Paris. It would only get quicker. More importantly, my guts had settled, headache was gone and I'm back in the game. 
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The remainder of the day passed without serious incident. A nice easy spin down through le Foret de Fontainebleu and the Loine river valley to Montargis. I had a session on Googley maps trying to find the 'twinned with Crowborough' sign and could't locate it, so we had to settle for Crowborough Road, tucked behind the launderette and the off licence.  Nice. 
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We stopped round the corner in the rather picturesque market square for a scheduled breather. Len and Abe had been shopping and there were fresh baguettes, ham, coffee, cake, fruit - you name it. I think we took on more calories than we had consumed so far that day, so much so that Johnny's legs gave way when he tried to get on his bike.
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The unmistakable sound of carbon and kneecap scraping on tarmac. 

The final leg to Auxerre took in one final mid-way coffee stop in Avallon in the delightful cobbled old town and a quick wildlife alert going through the woodland just south of Charbuy where a family of wild boar decided to shuffle across the road in front of us Good job I was at the front and quick enough with the camera to catch the tail-end charlie ...
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All in all, It felt like a 'downhill' sort of day. 130-odd miles in the bank and beer in hand by 19:00 as we languished in the garden at the hotel Normandie. 

We cleaned up and wandered off to the riverside for dinner. We can certainly recommend Le Quai if you are in the area. As the light faded at the end of the first day we were all ready for a relatively early night.

Day 2 - and we are queuing for breakfast at 07:00 with a view to getting off by about 08:00. I do wonder what the attraction of a continental breakfasts is, all I see is a table full of ingredients you would never knowingly eat at the same time. A thick, tar-black french coffee, hard-boiled egg with peanut butter and a salami and Weetabix sandwich later we are lined up for the press.
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Johnny, Simon, Martin, Alex, Richard and me in the starting blocks. 

We started with a spin through the town and then onto a rolling section that culminates in a reasonably substantial climb - certainly steep enough to stop the chatter for a mile or so. We were cooled by a random light shower - the only bit of rain we had on the whole trip - but it was hardly worth getting the jackets on and we had dried off almost as quickly as we got wet. 

The roads were good and the traffic was light. We were making good progress and planned to get past the half-way mark before we stopped for lunch. I think the caption to this photo may be 'fat lads at the front' (Alex, me and Richard) for a change.  Alex and I with matching, massive blue saddlebags / poo catchers.
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We stopped for a(nother) quick coffee but were soon making good time again in perfect conditions. We had a call from the rear to slow down just before lunch because we were getting a little strung-out. A quick re-group for the run in to lunch was called for and, as we dropped back to conversational pace, it transpires that we had been cruising at 26 mph for a while. I think we thought it felt comfortable under the circumstances, but as with all these events, everyone has a bad five minutes and if your bad-five happens when the others are doing 26 mph it's a bit tricky. Luckily, my bad-five minutes happened yesterday, in Paris, while we were stopping for traffic lights and doing 11 mph. 

Abe and Len had pulled one out of the hat and located a lovely spot for lunch at the Cafe du Nord in Arnay le Duc. They had persuaded the staff to stay open for us (they normally shut at 14:00) and they had arranged secure bike storage too. There was some concern about Johnny over lunch. The morning had taken a lot out of him and he was displaying the classic symptoms of heat exhaustion - pallid, quiet and listless. The 's' word was mentioned once, but we all agreed that no-one really wants to stop and we decided to rest a while, eat, drink and see if we could set off steady after lunch. Hats off to Mr Adams over the next hour as he forced some of his lunch down (I ate the rest), drank a bit, whinged quite a lot, but eventually got back on his bike and pedaled through it. It was a magnificent effort to come back from that dark place that we have all experienced. The mini-crisis was over and, several hours later, six tired little soldiers eventually pulled into the motel as the sun goes down on another long day in the saddle, Johnny (below) trying to wipe away the memory ... whilst Simon got his (bunk) bed ready in the rather basic (but clean and cheap) Europa Hotel in Lons Le Saunier.
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Another splendid meal was enjoyed at Le Chaudron on the outskirts of Louhans and we were tucked up in our bunk-beds nice and early.

Day 3 started early with another insubstantial continental breakfast, so it became a priority to stop after an hour or two to have something else. Johnny is full of the joys of spring but Simon is limping - wonder what they got up to last night ! This was the big day as far as we were all concerned - less distance (about 85 miles) but a lot of climbing. So, after a twenty-mile warm up over some increasingly lumpy terrain, we stopped for another breakfast in Clairvaux Les Lacs at the typically-french A La Fontaine cafe. 
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Abe and Len had commandeered prime seats by the square in the sunshine and the coffee and croissants were excellent. Simon sits quietly, pulls a face and rubs his slightly swollen ankle, he must have fallen from that top bunk last night. There is, of course, no sympathy on offer. Over to the East, the hills rise ominously towards the Swiss border. 

We tug ourselves up the first substantial climb through the trees and then lose every hard-earned metre as we plummet down into the last large town - Saint Claude, losing the van temporarily as the road is blocked by a mile-long boot fair selling tut. No time to stop now though, a known Strava segment approaches and we know what is about to happen. We hit the bottom of the valley and look up into the clouds to roughly where we think the road is going. Too late, there is only five of us, we've lost Martin. He is off like a rat up a pipe, little ginger head titled to one side (checking to see if anyone has reacted to the break), left shoulder dropped, hungry for a KOM. A slight pause and Alex pulls clear too; although from his body language it looks like he has already settled for second place points on this Category 1 climb (5-10 km ≤ 8%), but there is a long way to go. 

That leaves Johnny, Simon, Richard and myself to bimble up at a pleasant touring speed whilst enjoying the views back down the valley from the gentle switchbacks (sounds better than corners, but they were corners really). It has warmed up a bit but Martin and Alex don't want to go too fast or they will be cold at the top waiting for us. With that in mind we slow down a bit ... 

My indifference to Strava is well-documented but it is a useful tool - mainly for auto-recording all your rides. Most people use it these days. Some people want others to know how good / fast they are; some people cannot train without some motivation; some even crave 'followers' who may 'like' them - whatever that is. Each to their own eh? It was, however, amusing and interesting in equal measure when the results of the day's KOM stage came in. The stats arrived, as if by magic, on someone's mobile telephone. What sort of devilry is this? 

Imagine if you will that a segment is, for example, 13.5km long and you rush off to get on the leader board but, by some misjudgment, you stop just before the end of that segment to wait for those friends you left behind at the bottom. The virtual clock presumably continues to tick ? Those friends - the fatter / slower / older ones perhaps - eventually appear but ride past you at the top and then deliberately speed up for a few minutes. What would Strava make of that I wonder ... 
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The results are clear - Alex wears the polka dots, Johnny (who's been to the edge and back) thrashes Martin by a clear 40 seconds and Simon (bad ankle) is barely 14 seconds slower. It's a fact.  

We pass into a delightful alpine meadow under blue skies and wind our way up to what we thought may be the top.  
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We were wrong, and as we round a bend we see the van parked up to mark a turning in the woods and the remarkable support team of Abe and Len have a veritable feast laid on for our last stop. Hot coffee, croissants with fresh ham and cheese, brownies, jelly babies, custard creams, i could go on .... 

Simon takes the opportunity to milk the 'broken ankle but great climbing rhythm' story and limps around the lunch stop for effect. He even removes his sock and shows us the bruise. Most of us can't see what the problem is.

After a short break, we have one last push to the top. At the very start, the plan was to try and get Abe and / or Len to do at least some riding with us, but it's tricky to fit that in when you are up against a schedule. Abe's not up for it, so this was the chance to let Len loose on the last twenty miles or so - probably seven to the top and another 13 or so down the other side. We all make the top within a few minutes of each other and meet the van for a shirt change and photo before the victorious ride into Geneva.
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The last stretch was easy. A fast descent on a great road with some awesome switchbacks where we were doing similar speeds to the cars and motorbikes in stretches. Mindful to avoid any last-minute slip ups, we enter the bustle of Geneva unscathed and all-together. Ahead of us we spot Abe navigating his way across the bridge to the RV in the bus lane ! Simon doesn't know about the fine from Dover yet, let alone the ticket Abe's about to collect for him in Geneva. 
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A mile away, round the one-way system we locate the hotel Ibis. Mmmm, actually very nice and located in an 'interesting' part of town. The local businesses appear to be a mix of Lebanese restaurants, wig shops and (ahem) public services. The view from the front door down the rue Sismondi reminded me of the cover on the first (and probably best) album I bought ...
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Needless to say, beer and food followed and, to my knowledge, no-one had enough energy for anything else. Well, Martin didn't wake me on his way out ...

All too soon our adventure was over and  we are on our way to the Airport for the return trip leaving Abe and Martin to drive home. 

Stats :

Miles ridden                350
Miles driven                1472
Speeding Tickets         0 (phew)
Driving Offences          0 (ditto)
Falls                           1 (Johnny Adams)
Minor personal crises   2 (Johnny Adams, Simon Relf)
Beers per head            18 (average)
Punctures                    0 
Mechanicals                 0 

Thanks to the girls left behind who allowed this to happen and the amazing support of Abe and Leonie, without which such events would not be possible.

Next year ? - The Fred Whitton has been mentioned. Rest assured there will be a 'next'. Insert winky-smiley.

Finally, and for no other reason than Johnny spent ages at the airport creating this wonderful homage to the only rider to complete the whole event on a cast-iron cyclo-cross bike that weighs at least twice that of his carbon-riding com-padres. I am honoured. What a good likeness (that's me on the LEFT).
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