PBP 2015: Liberté, égalité...and that other one.

The sun was finally brightening up the world on Wednesday morning after my pre-dawn departure from Loudéac on the return. At about 8:30am I pulled in to Quédillac -- not a control, but a services stop -- for some refreshment. I got some snacks from the helpful volunteers, topped off my bottles, and returned to my bike in the parking area.

As I briefly sorted some of my gear, I overheard the conversation of a small group of folks supporting a rider who had just departed. Eh? What's that? Onzième? Eleventh?!?  I realized that the rider who'd just rolled off from their group was somewhat elderly...I started doing the math...could it be?

This story occurs along the blue segment highlighted on the map.

I quickly got under way, with a short segment ahead to the next control at Tintinéac, easily less than two hours down the road.

After a bit of riding, I found myself alongside the gentleman who had departed Quédillac just before me. French flag on his frame badge. Bonjour monsieur...

Yes, indeed, it turns out that M. Daniel Maître was riding his eleventh PBP. His first was in 1975, and he's done it every running since. He was well on his way to tying the total number of completions...except that a friend of his, also on the course, was riding his twelfth.

I was making good progress on my return, but, with a long day ahead, and half a day to follow that, and with the mounting aches & pains, my spirits were not exactly at their zenith that morning. Chatting there with Daniel as we rode along, however, rapidly boosted my morale.

Astérix le Gaulois

We spoke only French; I do not know if he speaks English. Daniel asked me why I've learned French. I don't really have a stellar answer, only the truth: I studied in high school for four years, and then let it drop. Some years ago, I felt that it was a bad investment to not have built on that, so I began practicing...a little bit, all the time, for well over a decade now, with the goal of simply being able to chat with people.

Daniel asked if I had favorite French literature. More than a little embarrassed to be so poorly-read in French, I swallowed my pride and admitted my love for reading Astérix comics.  I like how, in their own way, they touch on so many elements of French history and culture.  Daniel recalled some of his favorite names of characters from the comics, most of which are plays on words.

Daniel revealed that he had ridden with the first American to ride the modern randonnée -- wait, no, he corrected himself: the first American to finish. Holy cow! I had to practically pinch myself: here I was, riding alongside someone who'd ridden with those brave souls who, decades ago, as foreigners, had gained entry to the event, made the journey to the start, and successfully completed -- without Internet, without PayPal, without ride report blogs to read, without rules published in English, without a PBP-specific travel agent, without GPS...

(After getting home, I re-read the PBP history docs on the RUSA site.  Sure enough, the first American riders to start the modern randonnée did so in 1971; the first four to complete did so in 1975, Daniel's first participation.)

He was surprised to learn that some seventy members of the San Francisco club came to France to take the start this time around.  I was happy to have one of our little club pins at hand in a jersey pocket, and I was pleased to give it to Daniel as a little memento.

At one point, Daniel explained to me one of his most beloved aspects of Paris-Brest-Paris: fraternité.

Marianne and the French national motto

He said that in France, one often hears discussion of liberté and égalité, but that fraternité is often forgotten; PBP, however, reminds us of that third principle of the French motto. So many riders, all experiencing together the trials and difficulties of the long event, finding solace in riding together and supporting one another. Simply riding alongside others relieves all of the inevitable aches and pains.

Indeed, I had forgotten all of mine as we rode along. Riding solo, the mind focuses on all of them; riding together, they faded away. While this was predominantly psychological, I also noted that Daniel set a pace that was deceptively steady and smooth, while making nice progress down the road.

In fact, while I very much enjoyed the camaraderie of riding together, a little part of me feared doing something really, really stupid -- like touching a wheel -- and making Daniel crash. It was a little irrational, but I was imagining being forbidden participation in future PBPs if I were to have anything at all to do with the abandon of someone completing his eleventh!

As we approached Tintinéac, he asked if we could take a picture together. Wow -- I had been trying to muster the courage to ask the same! When we pulled into the control, a friend of his, who was riding, snapped the picture at the top of this post; Daniel jotted down my e-mail address, and I received the photo and a nice message after returning home.

The PBP rider tracking site shows Daniel as having completed with a time of 88h47. Chapeau! Daniel figures that 2015 will be his last participation in PBP as a rider, due to night vision not being what it once was. Perhaps I will be fortunate enough to participate again in 2019, for but a second attempt; perhaps, if the stars align, I will meet Monsieur Maître once again.