Paris-Brest-Paris… It was a dark and stormy night

and day and night and day.

I have completed my second PBP and somewhat back to a clear head, though I’m told I look awful. We are in the process of collecting some friends along the course that have had to drop out.

Weather was nothing short of awful. Cold, rain and wind. Maybe 4 hours of sunshine in the 65 hours I was on the road. Rumors so far suggest a DNF rate over 30%.

The ride did not go to plan at all. Scott and I managed to get into the first wave of riders leaving at 8:00 pm. 500 riders per wave. Rain started minutes later. Pace was high, but not unreasonable. I attempted to move further up toward the front to avoid the energy sapping accordion effect that occurs when sitting at the back of a paceline. Eventually, we found ourselves looking at a large gap to bridge. I looked over at Scott and said, “We have to decide now if we really want to stay with the lead pack, or ride our own pace”. “lets go”. So I pushed hard to get across the gap and move up through the field, when I heard, “Bryce”. I look back and Scotts crank arm has fallen off. It is hanging from his shoe.

We stop and he reattaches the crank arm. We get moving again and start moving up through the packs, however it was becoming apparent I used far too much energy for this early in a 750 mile ride. The crank arm comes loose again and we somehow get off course and do an additional 9 miles before even getting to the optional checkpoint at Mortagne. When we reach the first real checkpoint at Villaines-la-Juhel I am toast and I have 1000 km to go.
more to come..

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