lundi 28 septembre 2015

Friendship and Loneliness (Transcontinental Race 2015 part 3)


Friendship and Loneliness

Near Turin, 3 am...


"Ok Stéphane, stay focus, you will need your brain to think, even if you are exhausted. Ok, How are the conditions to ride ? Bad, 2 spokes are missing on the front wheel. Imagine you ride in a pothole while you look at a cute girl ! Your face is going to meet the floor really fast. *horrible image in my head* Ok let's find a bike shop to fix it. DAMN Stéphane !! Are you this much exhausted or just stupid ? A bike shop open at 3am ?! You better should think about the route your going to take !"


Yes, I'm the kind of guy who have self conversation. But I needed to "self question" myself about the route. From now I have two possibility. Taking the normal route like 95% of the racers, aiming for CP3, or taking the ferry from Ancona and aim for CP4. I had a big preference for the ferry strategy. Why ?

- Less kilometers
- Less elevation (really important for fixed bike)
- Better finish route from CP3 than CP4
- 10 hours of rest in a ferry during the night (it's not 10 hours lost, when other will sleep too during the night)
- Shower (HELL YEAH!!)

Today (after the race), I think it was the best route to do for riders who don't aim for the podium. Even if you miss the ferry for 3 minutes and have to wait 24 hours + 10 hours crossing the sea, in those 34 hours, you do about the same distance you saved by taking the ferry, and you are still exhausted. 34h where you can do whatever you want to prepare the second half part of the race. If you lucky enough to arrive just on time. You save a really big distance (one day at least)! 

I have 40 hours for 600km. Ok I can do it even with my front wheel shaking, I will find a bike shop on the road.

The road is straight and flat, even in the city you cross you keep go straight through pedestrian neighborhood. A lot of young people are outside during the night, going to club, I wanted so much to go into one of these, so badly. I don't think they allow people in bib .... Well let's rush.
For a huge part of this road my only company were the prostitute waiting for the client, damn there is so much of them. I
never thought I could ride this much distance, and still feel in the "Bois de Boulogne" of Paris. 

But in the middle of this, (I don't remember where exactly), It was on the top of a little hill, I think I did the best rencontre I had in the race. There were a rider, he was like waiting for me, I got surprised to see another rider of the TCR aiming for the ferry too. #37 Gareth Baines


#37 Gareth Baines (is it me or the name on the coke are the same ?)
He told me another concurrent was ahead of us, #29 Lee Pearce, they were racing for the first ferry, Pearce made it. Gareth preferred to go for the second ferry. We rode the same road until Ancona, every time we met on the road, I enjoyed to speak a little bit to someone. The more we were approaching Ancona, the more I was afraid to miss the ferry, but when I was seeing Gareth I was feeling confident.

I'm riding now for almost one full week, and I didn't have saw a lot of persons. When I ride in France, I don't have any team, or club, I don't share ride, used to ride alone. But I never fell this much alone. It made more pleasant than food or sleep to see Gareth on the road, I needed to stay connected to some kind of social reality. 

We arrived 1 hour before the depart of the ferry. The strategy was optimal, the timing almost perfect, I knew we were going to save a lot of kilometer. Another guy arrived for the ferry too #56 Paul Toigo, I saw him once at the bottom of the Mont Ventoux. 


Inside the ferry I enjoyed a shower and a discuss with Gareth. The 2 last day where more difficult than expected, tiredness was still there after the Alpes and especially after the strada del Assiesta and colle del finestre. We really deserved some rest after this. I rapidly fall asleep.

After a good night we arrive at Split and discover for the first time Croatia. The CP4 is at 300km, the goal is to get there before midnight. 
Gareth goes first, he's blasting, I don't want to race him on this flat road. 
Not Even 2 hours after I left Split maybe more, a guy almost in the middle of my way, waving at in my direction. "Who's that guy ? Look like a cyclist (but not one of those ahead of me)". I stop to know what he wants. "Are you part of the TCR ? Yes I'm ! We are followers of the race - Do you have time for a drink - Ho you are the fixie guy !" *guy speaks to his wife*

I don't even have done half of race, and looks like I already have the nickname of 'fixie guy' on my shoulder ! Should I say them I hate the word 'fixie' but prefer the word Fixed Gear. I ride a bike (our grand fathers used to ride fixed gear, not 'fixie'. I hope I'm in the same spirit as my grandfather), I don't pose with it. Well it's just a nickname, you have others problem to deal with. 

"Have you seen Gareth #37 ? Yeah he left half an hour - Well if Gareth took time to drink something with you I'm going to do the same *wait what half hour in two hours ! HO LEE SHEET ! Gareth is doing really good !*


I swear, I wasn't alone ! :D
After a coca, a good chat, and some pictures, I got back on wheels. 
The weather was hot, the landscape beautiful. I stopped in a petrol station and here happened the story that almost everybody knows now. 
I sat on the sidewalk in the front of the shop. Drinking some bull, looking at girls (yes they were beautiful) cleaning the windscreen of cars, I understood that I was not anymore in a 'rich' country. People giving you max services when you fill your tank at station, all kind of jobs that don't even exist anymore in France or only by immigrant. I understand now they are trying to do jobs they can do to make money, I didn't considered them as their 'real value' before (sorry if my words are awkward to read). Well I was thinking about society, and a guy got on my bike (with all my stuff) and tried to pedal. He probably got surprised about the fixed gear and the clipless pedal. He slipped with his flip-flops on the pedal. I got enough time to hold his arm, "hey it's my bike!" "This guy probably doesn't understand English with French accent" *guy free himself by giving me a hit in the face* "yup this motherfucker doesn't understand my English with French accent". It instantly got me very mad, got him this time with my two hands and pulled him on the floor. He was stuck with my bike still between his legs. 3 punches in the head, a kick in the stomach (or maybe under...). Took back my own, looked around the people gathered. I didn't wanted to meet the cops or some kind of mafia, let's ride away. 500m after, something flow out from my nose. Took the first tissue I had, my cap #152. 

                              
Transcontinental Race 2015, Blood stained stories


After that, I remembered about some discuss we had between French guys on Facebook "are you going to take a lock ? You can get your bike stolen only in France ! Or in a foreign country by a French in vacation ! *massive lol*"

Hoped the French guys are not in trouble. 

After midday, I started to get hungry, I saw a restaurant and I remembered exactly I had think "There will be a bike" BOOM ! Gareth's bike is there ! Awesome ! I was still a little bit mad from my bike thief, so told him my story. I order a pizza while he finish his fries then he go. Again our road got separated, I don't know when I will meet him again or not even if I will. 

The road was nice, started to get hilly and the heat rose up even if the see was at not even 100m. Near Dubrovnik I found Gareth on the shoulder of the road  in the shadow. Something is wrong, I knew it, he didn't even stopped in a petrol station or in a city (which were 500m after). Yes Gareth was getting cook by the sun. I didn't payed attention before, but my skin suit was wet, sweat was flowing down my arms and face. Temperature was over 35 degrees (Celsius) since the morning. We have some word, he's telling me he's ok. Well I continue my way. 

At the end of the day I reached the bay of Kotor, some freezing wind went down from the side of the mountain. I'm still wet, I decided to sleep at the bottom instead trying to climb and freeze on top. I found a park where I tried to sleep. A bunch of hippies wanted to play some drums at 2 am. I went to see them with just my underwear (at least I was drying my suits) "guys, I'm doing a race, almost 2000km and this mountain to climb tomorrow, can you let me sleep and drums in another place of the park please - hue ok" (easy negotiation). 

At 6am I woke up. Switched the side of my wheel for the climb. I did I think, the best climb of my life. Everything was awesome. I had leg, good weather, fresh air. I never enjoyed this much. I had a smile as big the Joker's face in batman. Climbing faster than local people. At every air pin I had a wonderful view. Not even 10km for the top ! When the restaurant of the CP4 appeared I saw people waving at me. Yes ! I must validate there ! I DID IT ! Another checkpoint. I was so happy I put my hands in the air like I had won a Tour de France's stage. There I met awesome girls, Gareth is there too !!!! I had a strange feeling, like he was waiting for me after when I saw him the day before (Gareth if you read me, give me your feeling about that !) Kate who speak French gave me some news from the fixed gear community ! (Charming girl !)
I had the impression Gareth was waiting for me, maybe when he didn't saw my name on the checkpoint arrivals, he needed to wait me to check if I was good like I did the day before. We don't know much each other, but we are ready to take care of the other in case of emergency. Because one of the transcontinental rule is we can't help another rider doesn't mean we are heartless bastard. It's the opposite, we know the struggle and we can't do anything to help, it's even more horrible to live. But if the day before Gareth had his life in danger, I wouldn't hesitate to stop my race for giving help. 

Gareth started to climb the last part, while I decide to stay at the restaurant and share a breakfast with the staff. 


Attractive tan lines or burned skin


I leave the CP4 full of happiness, I met Gareth again on the top of the Lovcen where he had a lunch. Then I dive in the  the mountain of Bosnia, the heat was insane, I crossed some forest fire, some bushes and trees are burning slowly on the shoulder of the road, no time to lose there. I'm afraid about the direction I take. I hope not to fall trapped in one of those fire. I hear the stressful sound of the wood cracking. I saw some rock falling from cliff on the road. I don't stop till I found a safe place. 




I rapidly went out of water, I pushed as far as I can to found a shop to refill. I couldn't found one. I met my 2 first dogs. One of them chased me for hundreds meters. I knew I had to break one of the rule I didn't wanted to. Taking water from a random pipe. But I was really thirsty. I drank this water and played with my race on a Russian roulette. The risk of getting sick is so high, I just hoped my "junk food training" will help me in this kind of moment.

Finally I managed to leave those mountain and reach a bigger road. Far away I could see something moving slowly. Is this a bike ? Or a slow motorbike ? Little by little I could get closer, I knew I was climbing faster than it, but descent slower. Yeah I'm sure now, it's Gareth ! I couldn't catch him until he stop in a station !
We start to drink and eat food. We had an horrible time through these mountain. Then another rider arrived ! And it's a familiar one ! Ultan Coyle #4 the guy who crushed me the first day. For the first time I met a rider who took the classic route. On this 4000km race and 2 totally different routes you still meet guys. It's.... Magic. 

During the next night, going through the cold mountain and foggy valley, I went down a huge descent. My GPS told me to take a turn, but I don't know why, I didn't fell confident about the route I prepared, or feeling adventurer enough to explore an improvised road. I went down that huge descent and I understood I was doing something stupid. "Always stick to the plan Stephane !"  That what I told myself (more like shouted) at this moment. I looked behind me and saw a sign "climb 8%". Shit ! Now I had to check my map and find the easiest way to catch my GPS route. I did again some bullshit and started to feel tired. But I didn't wanted to sleep in the fog, so I rode until I get out that shit. I remembered I was sad because I would probably don't see Gareth again. I'm going to be alone for a looooong time again. 

The next day, I regretted what I did. I spent 2 hours for not even 10 kilometers... I don't know what was in my mind, but I wasn't really in a mood for riding. It took me a lot of time to gather my wits and get back for real in the race, but I was riding like an empty shell. At midday, something incredible happened I could found one more time Gareth. For both of us it had a special effect on our moral, it insanely boosted us. That makes me think, even if I'm a solo rider, I still need moral support. Or maybe share my adventure with people. I'm currently doing something that a lot of people would like to be able to do. Does I feel guilty and need to share ? Is this race changing me ?

Gareth and I wanted to share a meal at Sarajevo, Gareth go first as usual, and choose us a nice small restaurant. We lunched as friends, not as concurrent anymore (have we ever been ?), we discussed about our ferry plan, the race, weather and shit. Good time.


Gareth and I meeting a couple who was riding for 7 months
through the world (@cafeandbike on instagram)
The more we go to the north in direction of Vukovar (CP3), the more we see other concurrent. Most of them are so much surprised, they react like they were riding in the wrong direction, we laughed a lot about it, but it's probably because most of them didn't realized they could take the ferry and mix the order of the check point. Since Sarajevo the road is more flat, Gareth and me were agree about next sleep will be in Vukovar, a hotel is waiting us. It's the perfect place for a "reset button". Bed, shower and food at the same place before the last rush to Istanbul. The sun went down and the rain appeared, I hate rain, but I don't know why I'm faster (or at least I feel like that). Usually Gareth is freaking fast in his aerobar, but this night I was faster than him. Maybe he had in mind Lee wasting all his energy for the boat and didn't wanted to do the same before Vukovar. We arrive at Lav Hotel at 4am. We are the first CP switcher arriving at CP3, I had a clue I was the first when a police car as only control point on the border between Bosnia and Serbia stopped me and asked me in a language I don't understand why I go in the opposite way of tens others bikes, and Lee had trouble since the ferry. I think in the mountain of Bosnia, my training for the upper body had the effect I expected, with my fixed gear I have to use pure strength in danseuse position to keep in touch with Gareth, my upper body support longer than ever my weigh over the bar, I think it worked better than expected.


Hotel Lav 4am - Rain keep us fresh ! no ?!
Next morning, 10 am, with unlimited breakfast in the stomach Gareth go for the last ride to Istanbul. I eat one last ice cream before leaving. I'm starting to think about all I have done since the grand depart. I know the road will be very flat until Istanbul, one last step until the finish. I take some news on social media about my french mate. Alexandre #17 is in second place, Sam #11 got cook by the sun while climbing the Lovcen in the afternoon, Clem #111 is with him, I already know Patrick #32 is in good condition even after a crash near Sarajevo, our roads have crossed there. I know they will be well, the other are riding at the pace they wanted to. I'm amazed by all of them, we where cheering each other during the preparation, and I'm sure we still do during that adventure. I know I will finish that race, I don't want to fail now ! "Failure is not an option"

I ride and don't find Gareth anymore. At Belgrade I check Gareth's position, he aimed for another route on the south of mine, little bit more hilly. During the day I saw the dark gray sky on my right, with storm. I knew it was over Gareth's head.
In the middle of the night (past midnight), a bike with the big front light that only TCR have, I go surprised, beside Gareth there is no other rider around. This is how I met Dragan, a long distance rider (he trained for the Paris-Brest-Paris - finisher in 61hours - Kudo !!), he follow the race on the tracker and decided to ride 20km to meet me on road. Some people are crazy !! We rode and talked for an hour, he gave me some news of Gareth who wasn't far. It was very nice from him. (After the race, I have found Dragan's team for Paris Brest Paris under the Eiffel tower, but I was sad I didn't found him) and he will confirm when i meet him again 200km later near Nis in Serbia. He also had a crash but looks good and strong enough to finish.


Dragan, TCR riders hunter

Nothing special happened to me until Sofia, except I forgot my helmet in a gas station and. I could ride back 5km and take it. And a second time I forgot my cap in the last station before the border between Serbia and Bulgaria. When I tried to communicate with my friends to send a message to the gas station. All my electronic device started to be out of battery. I got so damn mad, Lee (I think) saw me in a rage in the middle of the night. I think I never hated electronic device this much. Well, I'm too far to go back I just could try to stay calm and go ahead.

At Sofia, an employee of a Mc Donald told me he saw 2 guys 45 mins before me. Probably Gareth and Lee, they chose to leave Sofia for Istanbul. 600km separate Sofia from Istanbul, my plan is to rest for 6 hours then go to Istanbul without stopping. Well my lazy me won on my competitive me and I had 8 hours for sleep... I wanted to know to see where was Gareth, he is 200km ahead of me. He was riding 200 before Sofia and still ride 200 after, looks like Gareth is determinate to finish this race as soon as possible, with a 800 km without sleep, "Wow, Machine ! Kudo !". Now it's my time to finish this race, I left Sofia full of energy !

I rode on the road 8, the one who had a special message in the instruction manual, one road riders should avoid. A dangerous one, who start with a small hill to climb. "Wait, is that a another TCR rider ?", another bike again, and everytime I see a bike, I start to suppose if he's part of the race. This one is a special one, I met Mario, this guy is riding from Berlin to Istanbul to join his friend Nelson who is part of the part of the race ! (Nelson Trees #80). We were both surprised about the coincidence, he ask me if he can ride with me to Plovdiv. I naturally accept him in my wheel. I was in a good condition and take the lead at more than 30kph. I was also thinking to my guardian, my dot watcher, "someone is watching me on the tracker, must show him I feel damn good ! Let's kill those kilometers for this special one !"

Mario - Berlin to Istanbul for 70€ !
Riding alone from more than 10 days makes me forgot my peloton attitude. At a moment I avoided a horseshoe and didn't advert Mario, he rode on it and ripped his tire, what a luck ! with a horseshoe ... He needed a spare tire, just met him, and already had to leave him, I'm playing with the clock. 2 kilometer after I fell really guilty about leaving him on the side of the road without helping him, "Am I such a bastard ? NO", instant about-turn in the traffic, grab a plastic bottle on the side of the road, get back to him. "Hey, cut a piece of plastic from this bottle and use it to fix the hole on your tire, it will keep the tube inside". Well at least I'm not a total bastard, I tried to help him... (My tip worked well, we met at the finisher party, and he still had a piece of plastic bottle in his tire !)

After Plovdiv, the sky changed to be threatening, and a massive storm happened. "I don't give a fuck, I'm going through this", I rapidly changed my mind when I started to drown and rode eyes full of water. I went in the first gas station on my road, I waited for the rain to stop, the owner was so kind he offered a place at his table. If I can't ride under the storm, at least I can eat and sleep for the end of the race. He wanted to know what I was doing with my bike, I tried to explain him, he answered my I was crazy. I download an app on my iphone to translate Bulgarian to French and reverse. We could discuss a little bit with my iphone, he's some friendly, I preferred to stay for the night, I'm not riding for the rank. I rode this day 179km only, I think this day I discovered the pleasure to take time and meet strangers.

At 6am of the day 1... what ever, now I finish the race for real. Still 430km to do, 2 hours after the beginning, refueling in a gas station, I see #10 Ishmael Burdeau. He looked terrible, he tells me he rode under the storm, and almost the whole night on that road 8. Just by looking his face, I know he had a bad time. He's trying to fix a puncture for two hours now, he's suffering of a lack of sleep, he used a lot of patch trying to fix it. He pump one more time, *psshhhhh*, fail again, his mental is diving into the darkness, he start to say me he's going to scratch. The only thing I could do is to trying to "brainwash" into something positive. "Dude you are not going to quit, you are going to Istanbul, yes you are going to finish this race, not now, there is less than 400km, you will finish this race !", he gather his wits and with the last patch he fix the puncture, hourra ! We left together the station, I look at him and he looks better than before, I ride at my pace thinking at my dot watcher. I rapidly reach the last border.

The flag of Turkey, white and red, floating in the air like the red flag of each stage of the Tour de France, announcing the last kilometer. There is more sign "Istanbul", soon this race will end, but the race still have one more test. Why not take all the difficulty before and put them together ? Wind, hill, heat, traffic, all together, but let's add something new ... dogs ...
I could relatively easily manage the day, I rode at a slow pace, not pushing to hard, keeping my strength, I knew dealing with dogs will makes me use a lot of energy. I have read some blogs about this situation, I was ready for this situation, if only the reality was what I expected.... With the twilight came the sound of dogs' bark, and when the night was there, the nightmare started. In every single town, dogs were waiting for me. I rode on their territory, and they just chased me as an enemy. They bark at you and you recognize that unfriendly sound, you know they don't want to play with you. The only thing you can do is to ride fast, one time I though one of them stopped to chase me, a quick look behind just to check, the dog was not even 1 meter from my leg. "Damn ! Those dogs are going to chase me and wait for the first opportunity to pull me down, don't under estimate their speed !", the small dogs are slow, the big ones too, but the medium aren't... and they have stamina. Every time I go in and get out a town, dogs again and again and again, sprint sprint sprint and sprint. The most horrible were when I was climbing some hill, those times I had to put all the strength I had. At a moment I fell horrible, my thighs and my knees started to be painful, but I was discovering I had more strength than I though. I took a wrong turn in a town while I was chased by a pack of 3 dogs, and I met another pack of 3 dogs in front of me. "HO SHIT§ HO SHIT§ FIND AND EXIT NOW STEPHANE §§§ FAST §§§" I jumped from my bike and started climbing stairs, at least I was in a higher position than the dogs and could block them with my bike. On top of the stairs, another road, a 2 times 3-Way. No time to loose with the dogs, even if I have to ride on the wrong side of the road. As soon as possible I crossed the 6-way and the security barrier to be on the good shoulder. I totally lost the route of my GPS, but still riding in the good direction according to the "Istanbul" sign and my electronic compass. The traffic was about huge trucks now, well at least there is no more dogs ... or not. The biggest pack of dogs was waiting me on the shoulder, something like 10 dogs approached me. I had the choice, riding in the middle of the trucks, or with the dogs... Trucks looked like less dangerous, I road in the middle of the 6-way, and the dogs were too much afraid about the 20 trucks/minute. Weird but I fell safe there.

I left the big road for a smaller one, dogs again ... "this is never going to end". I entered the Ataturk Arboretum, the finish is not far, "in Istanbul you will be safe, last effort", easy to say, but with 400km in the legs with insane up hill sprints, my tights and knees exploded. The pain was very intense, I didn't had any pain there in the whole race before, but the last 24 hours completely annihilated my legs. Never in my life I had to support this. In the middle of the last climb I stopped my bike, my legs don't push anymore, I tried to walk a little bit thinking it would help to rest a little bit, it was worst. Back on the bike I was thinking "if a dog attack you now, you will not be able to escape, nor fight back, accept the fact you are a dead body on a bike until you reach Istanbul" , arriving at Istanbul was not anymore about finishing the race, it was only about surviving. I reached the top of the arboretum and let the bike spin alone, my bike, my partner, it keep supporting me. Finally I saw the Bosphore after 13 days of race. The street of Istanbul were empty, but I rode slowly like I was stuck in the traffic.

13 days, 4 hours, and 20 minutes, I finally completed the race at cafe Hisari, hand in the air again, with people applause. I got off my bike, and I don't really remember what happened then, I had difficulties to stand up, someone helped me, another one took my bike in the cafe, Gareth was there waiting for me with his wife. Lucky guy, he had someone waiting for him at the finish, I fell really sad about finishing alone, it reminded me how much no one believed in my ability to finish this race. I prepared alone, I rode alone, and I finish alone. Some people (Sarah Searle ?) took picture of me (where are those ! :p), I gave my brevet card for validating to Anna. I ask my rank, 13. Then I took something in my saddle bag, and started to sleep under the table of the organisation. 


My brevet card
At 7am someone woke me up, Alexandre #17, finished second. We start to discuss about the race, and watch the tracker. Clement and Samuel are coming soon, and we are very excited about it, 4 french guys in the top15, Awesome. Clement will arrive at 9, Alex and me congratulated him, then Samuel at 12. We are like "the" french team. 


Samuel / Stéphane (me) / Alexandre / Clement 
The finisher party, my goal, I wanted to be there, I have ride during 13 days just for that. But due to the traffic jam, Clement and me got blocked in a cab (we couldn't take our bike I don't remember why). I missed almost all of the party I was riding for. When we arrived at the party, someone told me Mike was looking for me to tell a story, I wonder what he said while waiting for me. He motioned me to take the mic, I told what happened in Croatia, people applauded when I said I punched that guy, I don't like violence. Mike gave me a bag with tools and lights, I must admit I secretly hoped for a special black jersey, but it going to stay a dream (I will talk about it in a "soon" futur post). I missed all the stories about the others riders, I got even more sad, and started to drink...


Ride over the Bosphorus

Selfie with Ultan Coyle / Mike Hall


Weird Face

Weird Guys

Selfie with Gareth

9am, eatting ice cream

Sam arriving at cafe Hisari
Clem arriving at cafe Hisari
No stress before the start at Geraardsbergen
Croatia
Strada del Assieta
Strada del Assieta


The days after in Istanbul, I couldn't rest. The city and the atmosphere of the race kept swallowing my life energy (and my money). When I got back in Paris I started to think about all I have done. One of my biggest achievement in 28 years, it completely changed the view I had about riding a bicycle, it's like an instrument you play, a partner you complete, a drug in your life. Together, a human and a bicycle are a single unity, a Yin and a Yang with equivalent (same) strength and weakness. I've never fell so good with my bike. So much feeling in short time, a huge adventure. The expression "It's not about the destination, it's about the route" (or something like that sorry) have now a huge meaning. What's going to be the next route ? A 2016 transcontinental ? Probably. And it's going to be made of ? Incredible adventure, for sure...



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