![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cpostropheI started PBP in the third wave of 90 hour riders, at 2210 under a light drizzle of rain that turned the narrow tarmac until a slick, dark avenue of cold and danger. My legs felt weak, the crowd of 100 riders who surrounded me wore on my nerves. I kept on expecting one of them to do something stupid, go down and take out a dozen of us in the process. Two hours in, nearing midnight, I started to doubt if I would even make it1 as far as Brest.
Then, we entered another village, with a cafe staying open well past its regular hours. It was a bright, warm oasis in the midst of this freezing hell, and I signalled to pull out of the paceline, leaned my bike against a wall and went in.
The place was crowded, and I slowly edged my way to the counter, but before I could order, a local spectator cut in and got the barkeep's attention to order a cafe before me. Before I could protest, he turned to me and asked, "Voulez-vous une cafe, aussi?"
I gave a slightly testy "oui" and he replied back, "it is my policy to only buy a cafe for riders who will finish. If you promise to finish, then I will buy you a coffee. Do you promise to finish?"
And I looked at him and once again said "oui." So he turned to the counter and ordered another coffee, handed it to me and said, "bonne courage, randonneur."
So I let him pay for my coffee. Then four days later, I finished Paris-Brest-Paris. It seemed like the honorable thing to do at the time.
Index:
Day 1: St. Quentin to Villaines La Juhel
27 Hours of Suck: Villaines - Loudeac
A Survey of Breton pastrycraft by bicycle: Loudeac-Carhaix-Brest-Carhaix
Dark Road Ahead: Carhaix - Loudeac
It's Not Who You Beat, It's Who You Help: Loudeac - Tinteniac
Currency of Gifts
Breakfast of Champions
Epilogue and Field Notes
the rain would continue almost constantly for all four days of the trip. Before taking our first sleep break in Loudeac, my friends and I had heard that over 1000 riders (nearly 20% of the field) had abandoned before even making it as far as that first 400km.
Then, we entered another village, with a cafe staying open well past its regular hours. It was a bright, warm oasis in the midst of this freezing hell, and I signalled to pull out of the paceline, leaned my bike against a wall and went in.
The place was crowded, and I slowly edged my way to the counter, but before I could order, a local spectator cut in and got the barkeep's attention to order a cafe before me. Before I could protest, he turned to me and asked, "Voulez-vous une cafe, aussi?"
I gave a slightly testy "oui" and he replied back, "it is my policy to only buy a cafe for riders who will finish. If you promise to finish, then I will buy you a coffee. Do you promise to finish?"
And I looked at him and once again said "oui." So he turned to the counter and ordered another coffee, handed it to me and said, "bonne courage, randonneur."
So I let him pay for my coffee. Then four days later, I finished Paris-Brest-Paris. It seemed like the honorable thing to do at the time.
Index:
Day 1: St. Quentin to Villaines La Juhel
27 Hours of Suck: Villaines - Loudeac
A Survey of Breton pastrycraft by bicycle: Loudeac-Carhaix-Brest-Carhaix
Dark Road Ahead: Carhaix - Loudeac
It's Not Who You Beat, It's Who You Help: Loudeac - Tinteniac
Currency of Gifts
Breakfast of Champions
Epilogue and Field Notes
the rain would continue almost constantly for all four days of the trip. Before taking our first sleep break in Loudeac, my friends and I had heard that over 1000 riders (nearly 20% of the field) had abandoned before even making it as far as that first 400km.
