Ronde Picarde 2008 - by Martin Porter

13th September 2008

Obviously I was not going to let a little fire in the Channel Tunnel put me off my fifth successive ride in this event.  Though it did mean a long wait in Dover with only the castle to look at.

Eventually we caught this catamaran thing that travels almost as fast as a bicycle.

Arriving rather late in France on Friday evening, I struggled to make the 0800 start in Abbeville the next morning.  Creeping around the chalet before dawn, trying not to wake the family, I had prepared two large bottles of fluid which unhappily I left behind.  Fortunately at the start the Mavic assistance man, whom I approached one minute before the off, was helpful and able to supply me with a neat but rather small Mavic bidon.  I asked if he had any water to put in it.  “Alors, vous voulez Champagne?”, was the response.  Perhaps I was pushing it a bit and I stifled my not yet expressed request for a second bottle and instead sprinted back to the sign on in search of water.  I remain very grateful to Mavic for the bidon and will bear it firmly in mind when I select a pair of race wheels in the near future.

I fortunately found some water in the loos which after a very busy morning were now eerily deserted.  I spied some bidons for sale on a stall but given the increasingly urgent noises from the PA system thought I had better search instead for my team mate Nick in the start pen.  He had been waiting there patiently for at least 20 minutes while I was flapping about.  Rather cheekily I lifted my bike over the railings and joined him in his pole position.  Well we were in the same shirts, so no-one could really object and I did also need a pre-start photo.

The field did appear a little depleted compared to previous years no doubt because of the tunnel fire and the popularity of this event with the British.  Weather conditions were good; light wind with some hazy sunshine but, fortunately for me given the water position, not at all hot.  After a bit more waffle from the PA we were off.

I pressed hard off the start hoping to settle into a group that was too fast for me and sucked me along rather than one which was too slow and I needed to drag.  Nick conserved a bit of energy for the later stages with the result that although we started together and finished only one minute apart I didn’t see him in between.

All that speedwork at Hillingdon earlier this year (and no doubt the fact that I was carrying at least a kilogram less fluid than usual) helped me travel up the field and after the first hill settle into a huge group that was flying along.  There was a motorcycle outrider warning oncoming traffic which all got out of the way.  The group was around 40 strong and stuck together all the way to Ault, a seaside town about half way around the 117 mile course.  There was then a steep but short kick up which divided the group and I had to struggle like mad to regain contact with the leading part of a now diminishing peloton.  I had planned to stop at the first feed at Le Hourdel particularly given the fluid situation.  However this feed had moved from previous years and the entire peloton flew past it so that I didn’t realise it was there until too late.

Never mind, about 15 miles later water bottles were held out and I gratefully grabbed one.  I put it in my empty holder and after a bit of exploratory wiggling about concluded that it was reasonably secure.  I then drained my Mavic bidon with a view to somehow pouring the new water into the empty bidon.  This I found was not easy at 25 mph in a peloton.  Having failed to unscrew the top I put the bidon back in the holder.  Unfortunately this appears to have somehow displaced my new plastic bottle up and then onto the road.  Often when I am cursed and sworn at by a Frenchman I feel I don’t really deserve it but on this occasion I readily concede that all the criticism (and more) was amply justified.  I had just dropped into his path a full plastic water bottle.  How stupid and dangerous is that, not to mention wasteful and littering?  Fortunately there was no accident and my bottle joined many others (albeit empty ones).  My punishment was fairly immediate in that I was thirsty and had let relief slip through my fingers.

I managed to remain in the front part of this peloton and we were down to perhaps 25 at the 90 mile mark when the pace started to pick up and this group split when somehow (and for the only time in the entire ride) a car got in the way.  With impressive efficiency a motorcycle appeared in the gap (The Tour of Britain should use these guys).  Anyway I was the wrong side of the split, now in a group of about a dozen watching the stronger riders disappear into the distance.  I did not make any real effort to join them since the next feed at Ponthieu was coming soon.  Although that feed was only about 15 miles from the finish, I just knew both that I had to stop and also that I could solo to the end if necessary and still beat last year’s time.

I explained to the English rider alongside me that I was going to stop at the approaching feed.  His arched eyebrow questioned what someone who was even thinking of stopping was doing riding with the big boys.  He then observed my empty bottle and very kindly offered to give me some water.  I explained that I needed to release as well as take on fluid so would be stopping anyway.  “What are you not wearing pampers?”, he enquired in a way that left me unsure that he was joking.  I started to look around suspiciously to see if I could detect from the expressions on people’s faces whether they were relieving themselves into a nappy. 

Well there are limits to what I will do to secure a good time so I dropped to the rear of the group and stopped at the feed.  Everything was beautifully laid out with rows and rows of orderly cups of squash.  It was quite obvious that I was the first rider to stop here.  I gulped down some fluid, filled my little Mavic bottle and ate a couple of pieces of very nice fruitcake.  I then looked around to see that I was in the middle of a village square with nowhere to relieve myself with any decency; the response from the man behind the stall to my enquiries on the subject were inconclusive so I travelled on, out of the village and up a hill, to stop in a field.  In mid stream a motorcycle followed by a large group went by.  Eventually I got back on the bike and gave chase but succeeded only in catching a lone Dutch rider.  I towed him along for a bit but it was obvious he was a spent force in no condition to share any work so I waited for the next group behind.  Sure enough before long a motorcycle came past heralding the arrival of another group so I slotted in there for the few remaining miles to the finish.  With 2km to go I thought I would dash for the line but succeeded only in leading my group in and being pipped at the post by a few of them in the last 50 yards.

What I did not know until just after I had crossed the finish line was that Nick was somewhere in that group coming in just one minute behind me.

I then caught up with the family who dragged me off shopping

Before I finally got back to the chalet for the now customary Champagne.

The first pack of 15 riders (including the winner a Monsieur Audoux) came in with an impressive time of 4hrs 48mins.  The first British rider, Colin Roshier was 22^nd at 4hrs 54mins.  I was 232^nd at 5hrs 24mins with Nick 243^rd at 5hrs 25mins.  We both had Gold with about 40 minutes in hand.

A great day as always.  I find it impossible to recommend this event highly enough.  My problem now is that I do not see how I can complete this ride any faster unless I do it non-stop.

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