Randocuisine

 

Randolicious 

Haute cuisine is not typically associated with long distance riding. None of the stars in the All-Star Special at Waffle House or on the Hardee’s sign refer to Michelin. Randonneurs seek fast, inexpensive and voluminous calories. Some long-distance riders can fuel themselves on powdered drinks and gels but I am not one of those. Early on I learned that my engine runs cleanest on real food. During PBP 2003 I had attempted to fuel myself with powdered maltodextrin, and gels but by the end of the day one my gastrointestinal tract had revolted. A rookie experimentation that nearly ended my ride but fortunately I was in France. The food offered at the controls had not been chosen at random. The menu had been cultivated from over 100 years of trial and error. I was grazing at the buffet of Audax savoring the terroir of long miles in the saddle. Slowly I recovered, fueling with mashed potatoes bolognese, riz au lait, pasta and pockets of endless jambon baguettes. I certainly have spent my share of time wandering the aisles of minimarts searching for that perfect flavor of the moment food item that would carry me to the next control. Like many others I have also used fast food restaurants as an efficient source of rando fuel but I’m not here to discuss value menus or happy meals. Let’s take a moment to savor the high gastronomy of Grand Randonnées. I hope you’re hungry. 

 Bonifay Challenge 2006 

 Breakfast was long gone on day one of the Bonifay Challenge. We were 150 miles into the ride crossing from the Florida Panhandle into southern Georgia. Our fuel gauges were reading near empty when an oasis appeared. Michelle’s Restaurant in Georgetown Georgia announced itself with the aroma of fried chicken. Like bloodhounds we followed the scent to a sign that read “daily buffet.” We didn’t need any more information. We just needed plates. Walking the aisles of Michelle’s buffet we were the proverbial kids in a candy store. During my wife Amy’s pregnancies she had unusual cravings. While I could don the pregnancy belt at our Lamaze courses to empathize with the burden of carrying the added weight of a pregnancy, I couldn’t truly understand the cravings until randonneuring. Long miles drain calories and nutrients and those need to be replaced. Michelle was here to help. With heaping plates, we grabbed a table in the outdoor section well away from the other patrons. This feeding frenzy would best be without witness. If there was a theme to my meal, it was yellow. Baked macaroni and cheese, cheesy grits, chicken and dumplings, creamed corn, sweet potato casserole and a corn muffin. As they say in the South, my meal was easy on the gums. No teeth required! Of course, this was washed down with 32 ounces of the sweetest tea this side at the Mason-Dixon line. Some readers will revolt at this plate of good ole Southern cooking but to my stomach this was rocket fuel. 

 LEL 2009 

We would pass through Traquair Scotland twice in relative quick succession at kilometer 680 and then again at 750 after the turnaround. Our initial passing was at the early breakfast hours and I found myself bleary eyed with a bowl of porridge searching for condiments. I was directed to the “condiment” table where I found only Scotch. A kilted man assured me that I was at the correct table but I passed on the suggested wee dram for now. I had my porridge straight up despite hearing about the wonders of the peat filtered Islay on offer. When we returned 4 hours later things were much more festive, and we were awake. The main course for lunch was sheet cake with a side of Scotch. As the saying goes, when in Rome…. I consented to sample the Isaly 10yr and the Glenmorangie. To refuse would have been insulting. The control worker/bartender beamed with pride as he described the notes of flavors that I would be encountering, that is after I finished my second generous serving of birthday cake. It was all washed down with a mini biere d”Or and we headed into the hills and high winds of the borderlands. 

 PBP 2015 Fougeres 

Mention your favorite control at PBP amongst a group of anciens/anciennes and you are well on your way to a spirited debate. I have always favored Villaines La Juhel, particularly for the festive atmosphere on the return but especially for the volunteer children which carry the rider’s trays. In 2015 though Ian Hands made a strong case for Fougeres having the best cuisine. The cafeteria is in a separate building from the control so I had often skipped it. Trust me, a visit to the cafeteria in the lower building is well worth your time. The menu is extensive. Decisions can be difficult for the weary randonneur, particularly with a language barrier. I decided to stick with my tried and true color scheme, this time light yellow. Pasta Carbonara, riz au lait, cold pasta salad, beer and a banana. I felt these nutrients directly entering into my bloodstream somehow bypassing my stomach. Note to self and friends, don’t forget to feed in Fougeres. 

 PBP 2011 Saint Martin des Prés 

Between Loudeac and Saint Nicholas du Pelem there is a small village that goes all out in the celebration of Paris Brest Paris. Saint Martin des Prés should not be missed. Often the route passes through twice although in 2019 it was only visited on the outbound leg. Everyone in town seems to be there. Roadside tents are filled with riders and villagers all seeking their famous Moules Frites. The mussels and fries are both cooked in massive tubs over open flames. Mussels might not seem the safest of in ride foods but they sure are délicieux! They pair well with accordion music and content smiles. Excuse the blurry screen shot of a video of mine from 2011. In 2015 there was a mussel shortage so only frites and sausage were on offer and in 2019 I didn’t study the route closely enough to realize my plan of stopping on the return was flawed. I will be back in 2023 and look forward to the tidal bounty of Saint Martin des Prés, hopefully outbound and inbound. Vive les moules frites! 

 Míle Fáilte 2018 

1200k is a long way to ride so you might as well start with a full Irish. The full Irish breakfast is guaranteed to get you to the first control, unless you are a vegetarian. Vegans and vegetarians may need to supplement. Being omnivorous I absolutely love the full Irish. Rashers (thick Irish bacon) sausage links, fried eggs, beans, black and white pudding, and mushrooms. This will come with coffee/tea, toast and brown bread and probably cereal and it will have you sailing down the road. I try not to experiment with food during an event. If possible I stick with items that have no known conflicts with my digestive tract. US riders may not be familiar with the puddings, particularly the black pudding which is illegal in the US! The puddings are not puddings at all, they are sausages. They have many of the same ingredients as typical sausages with the black pudding containing blood. If you feel a little low on iron, black pudding has you covered. Perhaps we should not further discuss “how the sausage gets made.” 

 Nebraska Sandhills 1000k 2018 

When it comes to hearty breakfasts, the Irish don’t have a monopoly. Day two of the 2018 Nebraska Sandhills 1000k would have riders slogging into a headwind for 90 miles with the only respite at a breakfast stop at the Antelope Creek Café in Gordon Nebraska. I felt like a 777 fueling up for a cross oceanic flight. With sausage patties the size of hamburgers you’d better have two. No, make it three because one comes on your side breakfast sandwich! Eggs, toast, hash browns, two jelly packets, coffee and a coke. Stops can be few and far in between in Nebraska but don’t worry because they really know how to fill up your tank. 

 PBP 2015 Sizun 

Photo - Jenny Oh

Honorable Mention goes to a bakery in Sizun, since it was just one item rather than a meal. It is just off the main court in everyone’s favorite non-control town of PBP. You’ve gotten over the Roc’h Trevezel and it’s always a good time to stop in Sizun. It’s a lively place. Nearly everyone stops. In the Boulangerie/Patisserie just behind the ruins I scored the tastiest item that I have ever encountered on a ride. I was seeking the Breton delicacy the Kouign Amann but they were all out, all out of the individual ones that is. They had a 10” family size version. Oui oui indeed. The name derives from the Breton words for cake (kouign) and butter (amann). It literally is 50% yeasted dough and 50% butter… and 50% caramelized sugar. Don’t ask how they get 150% into this thing, just enjoy. Mademoiselle boxed it up and I took it outside drooling like one of Pavlov’s dogs. My riding buddies asked what plans I had for such a large pastry but I was only speaking in tongues at this point. Tongues dripping with butter and caramelized sugar that is. Once my eyes had rolled back into my head the vultures saw the open door, or box, and swept in for a bite. Oh my was all we could muster until we rolled across the Albert-Louppe Bridge in Brest. Randonneurs love riding their bikes a long way, and many of us also love food. Coincidence, or cause and effect? Whatever your motivation for long distance riding you will require fuel. Figure out what works for you, particularly over 3-4 days. Keep your eyes open and your nose in the air for that lurking rando cuisine. Perhaps your family sized Kouign Amann is out there just around the next corner. Bon Appetit!

PBP 2019

PBP 2019

Rick Blacker, Seattle Randonneurs and Mike Dayton, NC Randonneurs head into
 the setting sun of the first night about to follow the endless ribbon of taillights.

Loudéac, outbound. On the table was a plastic yellow tray with a bowl of potage and a few scattered baguette slices. Teardrops were falling onto baguette crust flakes. In other words, it was a typical moment in Loudéac. I was in tears and my riding buddy of fifteen years was smiling from ear to ear. In our time sharing so many roads this was my first time seeing Superman Mike Dayton abandon. I was devastated. He was relieved. Even if this was his first abandonment he sure handled it with grace and aplomb. He could teach a master course in abandoneé. He made the right decision and now basked in contentment. This is the quiet lesson that I learned from this brief moment in the chaotic Loudéac cafeteria, make the correct decision and be happy about it. This PBP was Mike’s first attempt at a Grand Randonnée since a serious crash involving a car taking out four randonneurs in 2016.  He considers his participation at PBP a huge success and so does everyone that knows him.  We should all learn by Mike’s example.  Everyone that participated in PBP 2019 should consider themselves to be a huge success. We sorted some details regarding Mike’s Loudéac extraction. Barbara Blacker who was staying in a nearby hotel would meet Mike at McDonalds. Little did she know that she would be hauling away two riders and two bikes in a Citroen Aircross C3! Barb’s husband Rick would join team abandonné as his stomach had gone on strike and decided to reject any added content. Just like that our team of 5 had been reduced to 3 and the remaining riders were no longer together. 

Lois Springsteen and Bill Bryant take a moment from volunteer duties
 at the Fougeres control to pause with Mike Dayton

I had made a commitment to Spencer Klaassen to show him how I ride PBP slowly but first I would have to catch him somewhere along the road to Nicholas St. du Pelem. He had left Loudéac before me in hopes of a quick ditch nap. If RUSA ever decides to require CRE hours (continuing randonneuring education) Spencer could offer a seminar in the art of the ditch nap. A few tips that I picked up: set the timer on your phone for 10-15 min. (no chance to make the am/pm error), take the vivarin as you lay down so it starts to take effect as you awake and if it’s cold nap at the bottom of a hill so that you warm up quickly on the restart. There are so many more subtleties to be learned on the way to ditch nap mastery. Pay attention to the experienced randos and improve your skills. Also, ask Spencer to tell you the story of a ditch nap interrupted by the police who thought they had discovered a body rolled in a tarp under the bushes. More precisely they thought they had discovered a dead body but this one was very much alive and when Spencer yelled out a primal scream upon being hoisted, all present nearly died of shock!

Ben Goldenberg, Irving Pham and Ian Kizu-Blair of San Francisco Randonneurs make up 3/4ths of the Boyz on the Hoods riding PBP 2019.  Carlin Eng was slightly ahead and not pictured.  We look forward to seeing Brian Oei in 2023!

At midnight, we would regroup in Nicholas St du Pelem. Mark Thomas, Spencer and I would start the cold predawn trip towards Brest in deep anticipation of the sun on our backs. If there is any doubt as to why life exists on our planet we are reminded each PBP as we await the rotation of earth into the life giving rays from our closest star. Like flowers opening to the sun, Randonneurs come back to life with the return of light.  Still in the dark, Mark was sleepy but easily woke himself up by riding into a hedge. Three hours of sleep in Nicholas du Pelem combined with the previous night of no sleep due to the 90hr start from Rambouillet and you have a recipe for rando sleep riding. Spencer and I decided to forego the dream riding and stopped for a ditch nap on our way up the Roc’h Trezevel. I’m always amazed what 10 minutes of sleep can do for the weary randonneur.

My apprentice, Spencer Klaassen, Audax Kansas City aces the boulangerie lesson in Sizun.

I love Sizun. Sizun is worthy of stops outbound and return. There is a bakery tucked off the square near the ruins that is amazing. In 2015, I had the Kouign Amann but this time they were all out. I had the Breton Cake instead with salted caramel in the middle layer. Oh my! It might cost me 15 minutes of sleep later but it was so worth it.  On the return, we hit the crêperie just across the street from the ruins.  There are worse things than eating a thin pancake covered with melted cheese and ham while sipping cider as a continuous stream of joyous riders pass by.

Of course, we stopped for photos on the Albert Louppe Bridge over the Elorn River. 

Albert Louppe bridge over the Elorn River buzzing with paparazzi per usual.  

 We posed amongst the hordes of excited Randonneurs with the iconic Pont de L’Iroise in the background.  Although Brest is only halfway, it somehow feels more than that. At the controle outside the restaurant I noticed a bicycle that required inspection. The name plate read Alain Collongues!! I spoke with Alain briefly and wished him well. He was so kind and engaging. I later learned that he successfully completed his 12th PBP. Let that sink in for a bit, 12 successful Paris Brest Paris finishes and he even missed one due to his honeymoon. Jean-Claude Chabirand and Dominique Lamouller also recorded their 12^th PBPs which stands as the current record for number of finishes.

It was my honor to share a moment and a laugh with
Alain Collongues, Audax Club Parisien in Brest.
 Alain successfully completed his 12^th PBP!

There were four RUSA members in France with the highest totals of finishes by Americans. Lois Springsteen of Santa Cruz did not add to her total of 7 since she was volunteering at the Fougeres control with husband Bill Bryant. Doug Kirby, Paul Bacho and Thomas Gee all rolled over the starting line with 8 PBPs to their credit but none of the three would attain their 9^th.  Ken Billingsley was able to finish and now stands tied with the above three with 8 PBP finishes.

This year the start/finish was moved to Rambouillet at the National Bergerie. While the logistics of the start/finish area were a bit challenging and close by accommodations far fewer than St. Quentin, the setting was idyllic and the front and tail ends of the course were significantly improved since the urban riding was no longer necessary.

Mimo Demarco, DC Randonneurs, Lesli Larson, Willamette Randonneurs and Ryan Thompson, Santa Rosa Randonneurs 

head for a rising hot air balloon and Mortagne Au Perche, day 3.

Have you ridden with Mark Thomas at PBP? At PBP 2019 someone coined a new title for Mark, the “pope of randonneuring” although US ambassador to the United Nations seems functionally more appropriate. Mark knows every 5th rider and their place of origin on the globe matters not as he has ridden everywhere. After going fast in 2015 Mark decided to slow down and savor the crêpes complêt with some friends. He also managed an entry into la Société Adrian Hands. Until this current edition of PBP there were no dual citizens in la Société Adrian Hands (>88:55) and Charly Miller (<56:40). Now there are four, Mark Thomas, Ian Hands, Tim Bol and Thai Nguyen.

Mark Thomas, Seattle Randonneurs heading for Dreux on the final morning.

The official 32.1% dnf rate of PBP 2019 surpassed the 30.1% of the very wet 2007 edition and gives one insight as to how difficult the headwinds were, particularly on the way toward Brest. The predawn chill also surprised some riders although Anciens are well aware of and well prepared for cool mornings in Bretagne. Many riders saw temperatures in the upper 30s!

Plans are nice but simply function as a point of reference. We had a hotel booked just past Mortagne-au-Perche inbound but couldn’t make it due to fatigue. Spencer and I laid down in the vacuous Mortagne sleeping area with a 3:30 wakeup planned. At 3:00 my next mat neighbor’s iPhone alarm sounded and I awoke. He hit snooze or off and went back to sleep. Now I was facing an ethical dilemma. Should I wake up a soundly sleeping Spencer or just slide out into the night solo?  I recalled my promise to show Spencer how I PBPed and I couldn’t really do that if he remained sleeping.  I woke him and we rolled out.  We made it down off from Mortagne in the dark cool air and were gathering a gruppetto by the time we rolled into Dreux.  This is where we added Ian Hands to our group.  Talk about next level insanity.  Ian had successfully Charly Miller’d on a fixed gear without support then slept, took a train to Bretoncelles, ridden back up to Mortagne with Shermer’s neck and a golf ball sized blister on his left hand just so he could ride in with us!  We rode in together recounting stories of our hero, Mike Dayton and shedding a few more tears.  It was a joyous finish as we crossed the line and proceeded to the ceremony of collecting our final stamps.

Gary Delnero and Spencer Klaassen sport matching Audax KC mudflaps as we slow roll into Paris on the final morning.  Mark Thomas scouts the route 50 meters ahead.

The final stamp as captured by Jeff Newberry.

In my five PBPs this is the first time that I’ve heard negative chatter on the interwebs about the event.  I will never feel that it is my place to criticize PBP.   The fact that the organizers can actually pull it off is beyond mind boggling.  It could not be accomplished anywhere else on the planet.  There is only one PBP and despite some questionable actions by participants it remains the pinnacle of our sport.  Paris Brest Paris is not defined by the riders or their actions, it is the people along the course and behind the scenes that make Paris Brest Paris.  Paris Brest Paris is the 8-year-old girl that carries your tray in Villaines La Juehl after telling you, “je suis forte” (she is strong).  Paris Brest Paris is the control worker who patiently helps the weary rider with an infinite number of problems relating to man/woman or machine.  Paris Brest Paris is the roadside stand at 2am with coffee and cakes manned by a family with a small fire to warm shivering riders.  Paris Brest Paris is Paul Rogue’s crepe stand in Tanniere open throughout the event and providing crepes avec sucre and coffee in exchange for a post card from home. Paris Brest Paris is the now retired Ancien who stamps cards at the final control. He peers deeply into your eyes as he shakes your hand offering the most sincere of congratulations.  His eyes and handshake speak the unspoken, he knows what you have accomplished and that you should be proud of that achievement.  I am, and so should all the participants.  Bravo PBP, you did it again.  You beat us up, you knocked us down, you picked us up and dusted us off, fed our bellies and souls and you stole our hearts.  See you in 2023.

The children that help carry the trays at the Villaines cafeteria seek out the riders who seem to be most in need of assistance. 
I’m always identified as needing assistance.

Below is an excerpt from Mark Thomas describing one act of kindness that helps define PBP.

Paris-Brest-Paris is, in many ways, defined by the many kindnesses, large and small, shown to riders by volunteers, by other riders, and above all, by the people of the regions through which it passes. Over my 6 PBPs, the stories of generosity are among my favorite memories.  Before the event this year, I friended a man on Facebook who lives in Tinténiac (about halfway from Paris to Brest), whom I knew only as a guy who had taken nice pictures of PBP riders past. I sent him a note suggesting that it would be fun if we could meet in person and say hello at the contrôle. He countered that we should instead stop by his place for a coffee or whatever else we might need. That sounded lovely and we agreed.  After tracking us inbound, he met our little group of riders at the control, where he was readily identifiable by the professional-looking camera hanging from his neck. After giving us directions to ride to his place, he walked there himself to meet us.  At home, we met his wife. The most tired among us took them up on the offer of a place to sleep. The rest of us were ushered to a lovely quiet back yard.  A giant picnic began to materialize. Baguettes, a half dozen elegant local cheeses, and salamis and other meats. Soft drinks and local beer accompanied stories of the couple’s life in Tinténiac and their time as aid workers in Africa.  Unbeknownst to us, this spectacular spread was only the appetizer course and steak and pasta were next out of the kitchen. After some lovely coffee and a proffer of granola bars for our jersey pockets, we somewhat reluctantly re-mounted our bikes in search of Loudéac down the road, but with full bellies and warmed hearts.  Thank you Annick and Jean-michel Bergougniou for making our PBP extra special.  Mark Thomas