For Jay Yost, the 2015 edition of PBP was going to be a very personal journey. He and his uncle had finished in 2011, but the last rider in their trio, Jay’s dad James Yost, had abandoned one hundred miles from the finish. Jay had planned to do the ride again with his dad in 2015, but a tragic parachute accident took James away a year before PBP. Jay decided to recruit two riders and complete PBP again in honor of his dad. He soon found us, Martin Gruebele and Ryan Linne, and we agreed to train with him and embark on the adventure.

The crux of our final training months in 2015 was the Quad Cities Randonneurs’ Brevet Week. Concocted by Mike Fox, who runs the QCR brevet series in Iowa, it features a full series in this order: 300km, 200km, 400km and 600km, all in five days. We had already done a 300km, so we showed up in West Union, IA, on a Monday in April to do the remaining 1200km in four days. We were interested in doing PBP fairly fast, so we zipped through the brevets at our aerobic threshold, finishing the 600km in thirty hours with two hours of sleep.

Jay and Martin had very different strategies for PBP. Jay is a spur-of-the- moment rider, sleeping only when he can’t ride anymore, and eating and riding by feel. He planned on riding PBP “as it happens.” Martin, a scientist by profession, is the opposite: estimated arrival times and sleep locations were planned, as well as contingencies, all based on power output, terrain, and heart rate profiles. One thing both in this ‘odd couple’ agree on: don’t over- load your bike if you want to finish fast.

If your wheels are well-tested, chances are the extra spokes are just the straw that will break the camel’s back. So we had lightweight multitools (with a miniature chain tool), a few zip-ties and ultralight night/cold/rain clothing, all of which fit into a large saddle bag and an under-the-top-tube bag. This included two super-light lithium battery packs for thirty-six hours of light, more than enough for two nights of riding, and a few gels and waffles in a bento box for between controls. We never needed anything else on our eighteen-pound bikes during the ride.

Feeling well-prepared, we got to Paris a couple of days before the 18th edition of PBP. Jay and Ryan stayed at the Cheval Rouge near Versailles, in a nice restaurant district. Martin was practical as usual and picked the Alliance Hotel closest to the finish, so he could walk the bike home five hundred meters after the ride.

On Friday night we met at a little restaurant-bar that Jay and Ryan had found, and the French food was great. On Saturday, we met at registration and bike inspection, and put our bike numbers on the front and top tube. Given that six thousand riders were being hosted by PBP organizers at the National Velodrome in St. Quentin-en-Yvelines, it was surprisingly not an all-day affair of long lines. We had picked the earliest eighty-hour start, and were allotted start group D at 16:45 on Sunday, August 16. This would allow us to draft with other fast riders.

Ryan and Jay’s randonnée

At some point the start time was lost in translation, and we were late by fifteen minutes for our start wave. Martin had already left, thinking that we were perhaps at the very front of the two hundred-strong wave. The staff ushered us through to the front so we could try to catch Martin’s wave.

Once started, it was a surreal ride through the Paris suburbs with thousands of cheering spectators. They lined all the roads and traffic circles for miles. Ryan expected the enthusiasm of the crowd to peter out after the initial departure, but not so. Throughout the entire ride to Brest and the return to Paris, regardless of the time of day, there would be clusters of French fans cheering us on while offering food, coffee, and water. As we started, we stayed near the front of our wave, because as anyone in a group ride knows, riding near the rear you suffer the “slinky phenomenon.” At approximately fifteen miles in, someone lost a water bottle. One rider, against common sense, braked without alerting the group, causing a crash. Jay was unfortunately caught up in the crash and put into a ditch, squishing the bananas in his pocket: better the bananas than Jay’s back. Jay was fortunately not injured and attributes this to his military parachutist training, during which he performed countless Proper Landing Falls (PLFs). The rest of the ride to the first control was fairly uneventful.

At the first control at Villaines-la- Juhel, it was time to gear up for the first night of riding. At some point in the night we became separated. The short distance to Tinténiac was welcome because fatigue had started to set in and a Coca-Cola recharge was needed. At the Loudéac control, on his way out, Ryan passed Jay as he was coming in to get stamped. On the way to the next control in Carhaix-Plouguer, the terrain changed from short, rolling climbs to longer and more arduous climbs. The terrain change combined with continuous fatigue and lack of sleep made the next four hundred kilometers to the coast and back the most difficult stretch for Ryan. About seventy kilometers to the coastal town of Brest, we all met up and rode together for the first time during PBP, making the journey to the halfway point more enjoyable. Late in the afternoon the three of us arrived in Brest, ate a quick meal of spaghetti, chicken and sauce, and began the return trip to Paris.

After being awake for more than thirty-six hours Ryan decided that he needed to sleep. However, Martin and Jay convinced him to push through and make it back to Carhaix before resting. We arrived in Carhaix at 11:45 pm. After a quick water bottle refill and another “only a few more miles” pep talk from Martin, the three of us set off for Loudéac. Roughly seventeen miles after leaving Carhaix we ran into a “secret” control. At this point Ryan knew he wasn’t going to make the next control without some rest. Martin and Jay trudged on as Ryan caught a couple hours of sleep. A nap in a cot with a light sleeping bag and a pillow still warm from the previous guest felt like sleeping in a five-star hotel. Awakened after his short and luxurious nap, Ryan set off in the wee hours towards Loudéac, knowing that with every kilometer there would be less and less elevation change. Checked and stamped at Loudéac, Ryan needed some proper nutrition. Eggs and macaroni noodles with a cup of coffee were on the menu.

Leaving the cafeteria feeling rested and full, Ryan noticed Jay’s bike was next to his on the bike stand. Ryan tracked him down in the control and learned that he had peeled off from Martin around 2:00am in dire need of his own rest. Ryan and Jay left together and rode towards Tinténiac and then Fougères. Riding with your friend and teammate after five hundred miles really helps the mental attitude.

With time, the hills became less demanding. By 9:00pm Ryan and Jay were back in Villaines-la-Juhel ready for more night riding. In this section, in the middle of the night, we came across a pub filled with Britons. Hearing English was an added relief when ordering a coffee and some snacks to make it through the rest of the night. Before reaching the next control in Mortagne-au-Perche, we decided that we needed to lie down briefly for some more sleep. After a short rest, we continued on towards Dreux, the last control before Paris. It was mid-morning when we reached Dreux, and leaving this control, a final ‘second wind’ propelled us towards the finish and that well-earned, cold pint. The last twenty kilometers felt like the end of a group ride. We sprinted through the city and parks until we could see the top of the Vélodrome. Done! All in all, including riding through the controls, the total trip was close to 770 miles. The finishing time was 68 hours and 12 minutes. Ryan’s sister and brother-in-law had made it to the finish just in time and ferried the weary randonneurs back to the hotel for a real shower.

Martin’s randonnée

I burned almost 29,000 kcal during PBP, but long rides are as much mental as physical. Based on my sustainable heart rate at two-man RAAM in 2013 and the elevation profile of PBP, I estimated that I could finish in about fifty-five hours with favorable weather. The plan was to execute it like RAAM solo, for which I was signed up in 2016: ride three hundred miles, sleep a couple of hours in Saint-Nicolas-du-Pélem during the day to avoid the heat; ride another three hundred miles, sleep another couple of hours in Fougères; and ride one hundred and sixty-five miles to the finish.

In order to ride well at night, I strictly maintained my jetlag. That way I would wake up in the afternoon just before the start and ride through the night without getting tired. I slept until 14:00 Paris time, got into my kit, and headed over to the start at 16:00, where I watched group A take off. Then I got in line with group D for the start corral.

I passed riders until I was riding with the front group, but there was no sign of Jay and Ryan, so I joined randonneurs doing my target speed on the flats, twenty mph. A group of about twenty soon formed and rode to the first food stop through hilly woods outside Paris. At Fougères, I headed out alone but picked up a few people, and soon there was a big group, drafting one another and working the hills at an average of sixteen mph. This pattern would repeat during a quiet night ride, interspersed with chatting and occasional pulls at the front.

Between Loudéac and Carhaix I took my planned daytime sleep break in Saint-Nicolas-du-Pélem, knowing that Jay and Ryan would pass me there because Jay was going to ride until he could not go on. I got up refreshed and set off, mostly climbing alone. Eventually I found Jay working up a climb, and the team began to link up. Now the trio was working together over the long climbs and descents between Carhaix and Brest. The Atlantic Ocean came into view!

At Brest, we all had a real meal, and started the return ride to Paris. We quietly alternated pulls on the steep hills out of Brest through the night. Eventually, Ryan was too tired to carry on safely and went to sleep at a secret control. Jay soon followed in Saint- Nicolas-du-Pélem, around 2:00am. This was Ryan’s and Jay’s first sleep. I was well-rested and it was day time for my jet-lagged brain, so I rode on. Now came the roughest part of the whole ride: the hills between Saint-Nicolas- du-Pélem and Tinténiac were dark, ice-cold and foggy, with no fast riders in sight. It was slow progress, and I lost two hours from my ride plan between Carhaix and Tinténiac.