My son, Andrew and I, just returned Sunday at 6:00 a.m. and I'm trying to get back on track here. It might take a few days before I have time to write more and have pictures, but I've got great stories to tell. What an unbelievable experience!
I biked many, many hours feeling wonderful; it was surreal. Sounds of the whirl of chains and tires on dark, wet roads, being in the middle of packs of riders following a thousand red lights flying down curvy roads through the French countryside during the night and in rain. At one point, I didn't hear a word of English for over 3.5 hours. Seeing church steeples when approaching and entering small villages in the night, narrowing streets, yellow lighting on the stone walls, and small crowds standing in the drizzle to cheer you on. And then, just as quickly, you'd be back out in the dark of the night.
I continued to have a great time riding the entire next day. I had postcards from Havana, Tallahassee, and Florida with my name, e-mail, and USA handwritten on them. During the day, when it wasn't drizzling, I'd pull over to small groups where kids and entire families gathered to watch and cheer the riders. I greeted them with "Hello" and then "Bonjour", followed by I was from the United States. I'd give the kid(s) postcards and say it was where I lived in America. The parents were excited for the kids and the kids were wide-eyed. It was too cool. I stopped and had a small coffee and some water from kids with a "coffee stand"; postcards were handed out. I haven't a clue what the state of e-mail/computers are in these areas, but hopefully somebody will be curious and google "Havana, Florida," or "Tallahassee, Florida", or "The Sunshine State". I stopped at a cafe and had an expresso, too. Yum.
The conditions (from the start) were wet, windy, chilly/cold; very rough and difficult. My hat is off to those who finished! Way to go!
It was like what I would imagine the Olympics would be except competitiveness was replaced with international camaraderie. I was told it was the worst weather and conditions since 1956 (there was sleet that year) and the DNF rate was going to be high. One of the translators stated it was going to be at least 30% (1500). I completed 1/3 of the ride, 250 miles (400k), in 24.5 hours, with 10,000 feet of climbing. In the first 24 hours, the high was 57 degrees and the low was 53 degrees. I had to abandon when I became ill and started puking on the side of the road. Ohhh, it wasn't a pretty sight/sound.
But the experience I had in the village where I stopped; again, as sad as it was, it was the absolute best.
I was dealing with stomach issues, and the only local that spoke a tiny bit of English was the motel (inn) owner. She was so gracious. Chantal insisted I come to their inn, shower, and get warm. While walking the short distance, a small group of her relatives and friends were walking with us. She said they were wanting to know where I was from. I said the United States. Chantal stated, "No, they want to know where?" I said Florida and you would have thought they had won the lottery. Apparently, Chantal and her husband Dede, have a son who went to university in London, met an American girl, and they were now living in Orlando, Florida. I was like "family" now.
The room was already paid for by other cyclists earlier in the day, the sheets on one bed were changed, and I was given clean towels. I'm sure we will communicate for a long time.
All in all, I was pleased to correct lessons from my first 1200k attempt in 2004; one major improvement was my lighting. I proceeded to experience more important lessons from this attempt, i.e., clothing. You have to be prepared for everything imaginable and the key isn't staying dry, but if you get wet, to stay warm. A 1200k is without a doubt a continuous learning experience. It just might take a few attempts to get it right and actually have all the combinations fall into place.
What an adventure. Again, thanks for all the support and a big congratulations to those who finished. I did enjoy the experience!
Ritaann