The Road to Paris: Part One

A while ago, two friends of mine decided that they would run the Paris Marathon. Deciding that it would be fun to spend the weekend in Paris and give them some support on their road-bashing around the streets of the French capital, my friends and I decided to go along too. As it turns out, only one of the pair (Fred) will run the marathon, with the other (Simon), having dropped out due to a knee injury, now joining the rest of us in a purely touristic/cheerleading capacity. 

Now, I have many friends who cycle and are quite happy to punish themselves on roads across the planet astride a bike. My friend Alice, however, is not one of them. I mean her no disrespect by this – it’s just that she isn’t a cyclist. Her most common interaction with cycling of any kind was, until recently, some commuting in London on Boris Bikes. You know the ones: built like tanks, Barclays-liveried, conveyors of tourists. Alice rowed for much of her time at university so she doesn’t have weak legs, but she is the last person who I would expect to dip their toes into the world of cycling, especially given her derision of various pieces of my outlandish cycling attire.

Alic... I mean Boris Johnson

I want to cycle to Paris!

This statement, whilst out celebrating the birthdays of Simon and myself in mid-January, surprised me. It surprised me a lot. Sitting in a bar in North London, my friend Jack (who had recently returned from cycling the Eastern coast of Australia, taking in 1500km over three weeks and hitting the Great Ocean Road with Matt, North-London based Aussie and the best rider of all of us) and I tried to explain to her quite how much would be involved in taking on such a challenge from scratch. She quickly found out that it would be a considerably more involved endeavour than she was anticipating.

London to Paris. It isn’t that far. There are various routes, some of which are little more than an average Tour stage. You can do it in three days, two days, or one. It is a common cycling challenge for MAMILs, charity riders or people who just fancy the fresh air. As cycling challenges go, and we’re being honest here, it isn’t a hard one. That is, of course, provided you actually have a road bike and cycle. At this point, with snow covering the centre of London (plus ça change) in the middle of January, Alice did not. Initially, Jack agreed to go with her whilst I was reluctant to get involved. I scoffed somewhat, but a week or two after (once it was apparent that she would be riding to Paris come what may) I decided to come along for the ride. Matt also joined in on the fun, and we chose two day route from London to Portsmouth with a ferry to Le Havre and stop-over in France, making it a leisurely three-day trip.

Kitting out…

Sourcing a bike was the priority. Alice decided to go down the Gumtree route and pick up a deal on a second-hand bike. Minefield. It fell to me to accompany her to Brixton to cast a critical gaze over the best option. For under £300, a two-year old Trek 1.2 from an actor who was trading it in for a motorbike seemed like a decent deal. With a visit to the workshop, it was almost as good as new and ready to terrify Alice. She seemed somewhat dazed by the quantity of stuff she would need (road shoes, bibs, lock, new chain, brake pads, rain jacket… any cyclist will attest to the infinite length of any such list), but her commitment to the undertaking was unshaken. But all of the actual riding was still to come.

What Alice will be straddling

Coach Bleeding Edge…

I wouldn’t say that my temperament lends itself to teaching, and I would describe even this as an understatement. But teaching is what was required on a (rather rare) sunny Sunday morning around Regent’s Park. Clipless pedal fear had sunk its roots deep into Alice and we decided it would be best to translocate the obligatory falling over to the grass and paths of the park itself before working through a few circuits of the ring road. The sense of surprise was clear as Alice took her first glimpse of road cycling in London and its hordes of lycra pretenders and club-runners on any given Sunday. Don’t get me wrong, I’m partial to a few laps of Regent’s Park, but being young and brash, tend to take a dim view of middle-aged men on bikes that reflect the size of their bonus and not their aptitude or cycling needs.

Sorry, that was mean.

Cue squealing, panicking at lights and flailing legs, using one gear, using no brakes and on a saddle too low. But aside from that, Alice maintained a decent speed and seemed perfectly capable when it came to the most crucial part: covering distance and keeping going. Despite her inexperience, she did well in terms of fitness and coped well with a brisk 30km. All the other little bits and pieces would hopefully come good with more time on the road.

Alice is very determined. She is committed to finishing what she has started, and for that I commend her. Sticking with the bike and riding to work come hell, high water and London traffic, has hardened her somewhat and she was ready to ride (albeit grudgingly) in the coldest, greyest weather the Indian winter that the UK is experiencing could throw at her. So it was on the rides to Richmond Park on Sundays. Ramping up the distance to >70km, she didn’t struggle and didn’t slow down. But I will never shake the image of her, looking windswept and uncomfortable at the gates of Richmond Park, chasing a cigarette with her asthma pump as I returned from the loo to where she was guarding the bikes. Ever the athlete.

So now is now, and we are four days away from riding the 200 miles to Paris, via Portsmouth, a ferry and Le Havre. I believe Alice will complete the journey – she is more than capable. I also believe that there will be squealing and screaming on the way. But the journey should be fun, and it will be an impressive achievement for Alice. I am looking forward to powering into Paris fuelled by pain au chocolat, maybe even a triumphant circuit around the Arc de… er… Triomphe.

That's how I roll - Hitting the Champs

Sporting challenges do not possess an inherent degree of difficulty. The significance of what you have achieved is defined by the position from which you started. For Matt, Jack and I, coming into this adventure with a solid background in road cycling, it is something fun to do. But for Alice, the size of the challenge, the determination and preparation required, and ultimately the achievement is so much greater.

Tech corner…

Matt has lost his mind and decided to ride to Paris by fixed-gear. He’s taking two chain rings with him. This will surely make things interesting.

Jack is running some new American Classic 420 Aero 3’s, so should be flying. Should. Be.

I’m experimenting with a new Prologo Zero Ti 1.4 saddle, after deciding to move on from a Fi’zi:k Arione in search of something flatter; If it isn’t comfortable… ouch.

The Road to Paris is paved with good intentions…

I will post an update after the event. For all the planning and effort that has been put into the trip so far, we still have to get it done. Hopefully Alice will survive, Matt’s knees will survive and I won’t crash spectacularly. Paris here we come.

Oh, and hopefully Fred will smash the marathon. After all, without that marathon, we wouldn’t have concocted this whole crazy plan…

But you knew that already…

Follow @_BleedingEdge_ on Twitter and there should be some updates along the way!

P.S. I plan to post the planned blog about homophobia in football before I go, so look out for that as well.