Thien Tran's (Toronto, ON, CN) report

In the spirit of promoting the next Paris Brest Paris I?ll write a few words about my experience.

The ride started out really well for me. I left St. Quentin at 11:30 pm. My first sleep stop was in Carhaix because an Aussie rider told me that Loudeac is just a mess. When I arrived in Carhaix there were already a bunch of riders sleeping on the floor. I pulled out my emergency blanket and slept for 2 hours. Going in and out of Brest was a memorable part of the ride since the weather was at its best at this point. I had a beer about 60 km leaving Brest and got an instant buzz. If I had another pint, I would of been smashed. My ride started going to shit (literally) after I ate some chicken and rice in Carhaix. I had to deal with severe episodes of dysentery every two hours for the rest of the ride. I didn?t want to eat or drink. In addition I had saddle sores and chaffing. I put on my extra pair of short, applied Assos cream (which really stung). Before that I was using some French cream bought at the control which was really oily, stuck to my short, and had an aroma that made me wanted to puke. My bottle of chamois butter had fallen out of my camel bag. From then on, much of my mental strength was spent fighting off the desire to quite. What prevented me from DNFing was: a) dealing with the annoyance of explaining to people why I didn?t finish this ride b) not being able to wear that freaking PBP Jersey that I bought c) having to figure out how I was going to get back to my hotel. Thank goodness I had created a big time buffer at the start. I divvy up those extra hours between shitting and sleeping. 80 km from the end my feet started to really hurt. It felt like there were needles under the sole of my shoe. This is pain was new to me.

Memorable moments at PBP.

-Seeing people sleeping on bikes, park benches, concrete, dirt, and my favourite wet grass, in the middle of the night.
-A small girl standing alone under cloudy ominous sky on the side of a country road handing me a cookie accompagnied by the phrase, "Monsieur."
-Entering numerous café and buying orange juice even I'm not thirsty, just so I can use a decent shitter.


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