Sunday, September 3, 2023

PBP 2023 - Third Time's a Charm!

I’ve said it many times before to anyone that will listen and I will say it again here- - no matter what you’ve heard or think you remember about PBP, the reality is much better. This definitely held true for me again in 2023.

 


If you want the short version, I had a great ride. The beauty of western France was on full display with hot days and warm overnights. I did put leg warmers on during each of the overnights but nothing like the frigid nights of 2019. For me, the highlight of this ride was the support of the residents along the route. There were countless unofficial food stops of every size and shape. I think I found a good balance of enjoying the ride’s special moments and keeping forward motion. I never really felt that finishing was in doubt. In the final miles of the ride, I made the decision to ease back and finish with a time of 89hours and 4 minutes, qualifying for the Adrian Hands Society. Now, if you want the overdone, long version, keep reading.

 

This was my first time travelling with my new coupled bike. I was a little apprehensive about my skills getting it properly reassembled, especially the reconnection of the hydraulic brake lines. In the end, the brake lines connected pretty smoothly (with an extra set of hands from buddy, Spencer Klaassen). I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I squeezed the brake levers and had working brakes. The only drama in the reassembly process came when I removed the travel skewer from the rear wheel and lifted the wheel to put it on. At that point, the cassette slid off of the hub and hit the pavement with an assortment of rings and springs. Not really sure the order that all of this went back together, I sent a text off to my bike builder, Paul Reardon, in La Crosse. He promptly initiated a video call and patiently walked me through the reassembly. Disaster averted!

 

I started the ride with no clear plan. I was in the first start wave of the 90 hour group. I had a hotel room reserved in Loudeac (mile 270 ), and Saint- Meen- le-Grand (mile 518  ). The hotel plan wasn’t perfect because I anticipated getting to Loudeac late on Monday afternoon, a bit too early for a sleep, and the second leg to Saint Meen was a lengthy 240-ish miles. While some riders prepare detailed spreadsheets outlining when they will be at various points on the route and average speed predictions, I prefer to simply work from a list of controls with their closing times. I then track my progress through the day by comparing my time to the closing time to see how much time I will have to sleep at the end of each leg.








The start in Rambouillet was the usual mass of energy, nerves, and pageantry. Somewhere on a stage in front of the pack, a ringmaster was leading cheers, welcoming riders from around the world, doing some kind of countdown, all with some kind of dance club background music. Early on, I met up with longtime Minnesota Randonneur friend, Craig Aamodt. We ended up riding about 100km together on what was a beautiful evening. This might have been the most perfect evening ride I have ever experienced. The miles flew by effortlessly, the conversation was good, and we were both engrossed in enjoying the evening. 



Craig and I got separated in Mortagne. I had just planned on grabbing a quick sandwich and rolling, but when I walked past the cafeteria, I saw that no one was in line, so I grabbed a full turkey and mashed potato dinner.

The miles continued to roll along easily and I was quickly to Villaines-la-Juhel, roughly 200k into the ride. The control in Villaines has the neat tradition of having elementary kids meet riders at the front of the cafeteria line. The kids then carry your tray through the line and to the eating area in the building next door. For my third straight PBP, I was helped by a friendly young lad. 




Shortly after leaving Villaines, the sun starting sneaking through the foggy morning for a beautiful sunrise. 




The miles to Tinteniac continued to roll by easily. Arriving in Tinteniac, I opted for the rapide food option and grabbed a galette sarcisse and a coke.

 


 

On leaving Tinteniac, I noticed something wasn’t right with my GPS. It had somehow managed to shift to indoor riding mode and the road mode was no longer an option. I stopped quick and tried to recreate some of my preferences but never did get it quite right during the ride. I’m now confident that the malfunction was caused by charging the GPS directly from my dynamo rather than through a battery. Apparently, I am the only randonneur who missed this memo.  

 

As I predicted, I arrived in Loudeac late Monday afternoon. I had a nice dinner at the control. I thought it would be nice to end the day with a bottle of beer as well. However, a room temperature (read HOT) Carlsburg was not a fix for anything. (I’m trying to imagine a situation that a 90 degree malty Carlsburg would help but I’m drawing a blank). I tried choking it down but didn’t get very far before giving up, grabbing my drop bag, and heading to the hotel. I was able to buy a really nice draft beer at the hotel bar to drink while unwinding from the day. I planned to sleep for about 3 ½ hours but was really restless and  got only about half of that. 




When the alarm went off, it was still light out. I grabbed a quick second dinner at a Loudeac restaurant that I have eaten at on both prior PBPs before riding into a beautiful sunset and evening.

 


The leg between Loudeac and Carhaix featured a couple of fun interactions with local kids. One of the truly fun and unique things about PBP that are that numbers of people and kids standing along the side of the roads. Many of the children are lined up along the edges of the road looking for high fives from riders. I like to stop and hand out pins I had made up. At one such stop, I encountered 3 young kids. 2 of them spoke pretty good English. The youngest one did not know any English at all. After giving them each a pin, I motioned that I wanted to take a picture with them. On seeing this, the youngest one, who had been very quiet to this point, got a big smile and started yelling “selfie, selfie, selfie.”  Apparently, some concepts transcend language. The other notable experience happened a couple hours later. It was getting late and my mind was getting a bit muddled, so instead of greeting this elementary-aged kid with “Bonjour,”  I said “Hola”. As I reached out to hand her a pin, a much younger girl who had been watching came running over yelling “Hola, hola, hola” to get her pin. I rolled away from both of these interactions laughing.

 



The long, dark climb out Carhaix to the highest point on the course seemed to go on forever-as did the cold, foggy decent to Sizun. In both of my prior PBPs, I’ve hit Sizun just after sunrise and hit the local bakery from an apple pastry. The bakery wasn’t open yet this year, but the bar next door was still open and had a plate of the apple pastries. Two quick pastries and off towards Brest.

 



Arriving in Brest, we passed a patisserie where I had eaten lunch in 2019. The patisserie was just opening for the day so I decided to stop and eat before reaching the control. The lady working didn’t speak any English but we were able to have a bumbled conversation of points and smiles and I eventually ended up with a decent chicken and egg sandwich and a pastry. On my way out, she noticed that I had forgotten to fill my water bottle so she stopped me and gave me a free bottle from the display case.

 



At the control in Brest, I met up with Craig Aamodt and Andy Williams. We decided to leave together. After the required photo stop on the bridge leaving Brest, we ventured into the revised portion of the route. This year’s route reportedly included lots more climbing than the 2019 version. Lots of it seemed to be on this section. It seemed like an unending string of climbs and the temperatures rose steadily all day. Craig clearly was not feeling well and eventually withdrew with heat-related illness but Andy and I rode together for the rest of the day. We were also joined periodically by Misha Heller and Charlie Martin for some fun conversation. The highlight of the day was the new stop at Pleyben, next to a beautiful ancient church. To mix things up, I decided that I Heineken would be better for my stomach than another sugary pop. I added a galette saucisse to top off a nice lunch.

 



Andy and I got separated on the run into Saint-Meen-le-Grand. Andy was convinced I was behind him and it took a series of phone calls and text messages before we were able to meet up near the square in front of Saint Meen’s distinctive city hall. The hotel was on route and was set up for PBP support. I had pre-ordered a couple of dinners and we were able to eat quick supper before crashing for a 3 hour sleep.

 

We left around 4:30 am, well before the sun came up and rode the 25-30 miles to Tintaniac for breakfast. After grabbing my meal, I noticed the party train sitting at a table. They graciously let me join them and I enjoyed being part of their banter. Stops with them became a feature of the rest of the ride. I wasn’t quite fast enough to ride with them, but I took slightly shorter breaks and was able to join them at several controls and aid stations throughout the day.

 


I never really felt strong at any point on Wednesday. I made reasonable progress and kept moving but most of the day felt like a struggle. I had a good lunch with Bill Russell, Misha Heller, and Charlie Martin in Fougeres and a fun stop in Ambrieres-les-Vallees. At Ambrieres-les-Vallees, the route crosses a river on a bridge with 90 degree corners on each bank. On the Paris side of the river, is a café. The spot is so beautiful that I have stopped there on each PBP (some years in both directions)




 This year, they had a tent serving food outside and an ice cream stand. I stopped for a sandwich and soup but I found the soup inedible. As I was preparing to leave, I walked out to the bridge planning to take a photo of the next rider that crossed. I ended up taking a picture of Cap’n Ende and Charley Martin, without planning it (or actually realizing it until I looked up after taking the photo). 



Their group was diving into the ice cream so I made the wise decision to delay my departure and have a big bowl of caramel flavored ice cream. The rest of the afternoon was an eastward slog through a progression of spontaneous aid stops, including a stop at Paul Rogue’s in Tanniere for crepes.  Shortly after Tanniere, the town of LeRibay is perched on top of a short steep climb and they were hosting a major festival/party/aid stop. As I approached, I was feeling sun-baked, so I pulled in for a quick break. Not too much later, the party train rolled in. I noticed that all of the voluteers were wearing bright orange t-shirts with a Le Ribay. I thought that one of the shirts would make a unique PBP souvenir and could be the basis for a joke to help boost my sagging mood. So, I found a table selling the shirts, bought one, and slung it over my shoulder. I then walked over to where the party train was sitting, and announced, “screw this, I’m done. I’m going to stay here and cook sausages all day”. It was a fairly lame joke, but at this point of the ride it was enough to get me to laugh at myself and change my mood. I later learned that at lease one member of the gang thought I was DNF’ing there. So maybe I looked at bad as I felt.

 

 



That evening approaching Mortagne was probably the most difficult part of the ride for me. There was a series of long, tough climbs, and I was struggling to make good progress. About 10km before the Mortagne control, I decided to pull off at a roadside community support stand. When I wheeled in, I was met by a teenage girl whose first question was “English, French, Spanish?” When I replied English, she turned and yelled for the English-speaking helper who then approached and stuck with me throughout my stay. Apparently, they had a “rider liaison” available in each of several languages. He asked me a series of questions to prompt aid. Did I need water?, would I like cake?, do I need coffee?, would you like a plum? After we got through those basics, he asked me to sign a big board they had signed by riders from all over the world. When I confessed that I was down to my last pin and that I wanted him to decide who in his crew should get it, he pulled out a board of pins and said they preferred to put the pins on a board to display.

 

My plan had to been to sleep for about 30 minutes in Mortagne before pressing on to Dreux. However, the weather forecast was calling for rain in 4 or 5 hours, so after eating, I decided to press on to Dreux. Leaving Mortagne, the route has 2 or 3 climbs that seemed to go on forever. Someday, I would like to ride this section in daylight. On each of my 3 PBPs, I have suspected that the organizers have snuck in an excursion into the Alps without telling anyone. The reward for surviving these climbs is the plains  leading to Dreux.  The stark darkness of the night was interrupted by an all night party at the tabac La Bonne Franquette in Neuilly-sur-Eure.  I decided this would be a great spot for a break. I spent a few minutes milling around before I decided that what I really needed most was a nap. They had a grass beer garden/picnic type area set up across the street so I settled in for a quick 30 minute nap. Only problem, I am one of randonneuring’s worst ditch-nappers. I got all settled in, closed my eyes and laid there for 25 minutes. I might have fallen asleep for 10 minutes or so, but I doubt it. So, before any of my 3 alarms went off, I was up and moving towards my bike.

 


At this point, I was still undecided about whether I would directly ride the 45ish miles to the finish (which would get me in somewhere around 85 or 86 hours) or pull back and target a finish in excess of 88 hours and 55 minutes to join the Adrian Hands Society. Within a few miles, I entered the small town of Senonches, which had a very welcoming community aid station set up. 



Instantly, I made the Adrian Hands Society decision, pulled in for my second break in 10 miles, and grabbed a cup of coffee. I sat down in a comfy chair and was met by a friendly face, It was, Tor Urdalen a Norwegian rider I had spoken with somewhere several hours ago. He greeted me with something along the lines of, “Hey, Minnesota. How’s the ride going?”  We sat and chatted for about 30 minutes. The conversation, combined with the decision to ease off the hurry to the finish, really put me in a relaxed mood. The rest of the ride to Dreux was a fun, relaxed cruise across a pancake flat plain.   

 

 

 

In prior PBPs, I have always had good luck with controls. However, on arrival in Druex, I quickly figured out I was right in the middle of the bubble. The control was overrun, people were sleeping everywhere, and the food lines were out of everything. To make matters worse, the building was unbearably hot so I decided to go take a 30 minute nap in the grass out behind the building.

 

Leaving Dreux with plenty of time in the bank and only about 25 miles to go was really relaxing. I chatted with a randonneur from Istanbul and had a nice conversation with Danish randonneur, Christian Rasmussen, who I had met at several other 1200k events. I was pleasantly surprised to come around a corner in the small town of Faverolles and find the whole Adrian Hands/party train gang sitting on a curb watching the world go by.  I instantly thought that this photo needs to be on the front of American Randonneur magazine. Just as I was lining up to take the photo, someone tapped me on the shoulder, reached for my phone, and told me to sit on the curb with them. After taking the picture, the guy came over to talk to us—turns out it was the mayor of Faverolles. 



I joined the train for the final 12 miles to Rambouillet. As we approached the finish, it was clear that we needed to kill another 45 minutes or so before we wanted to finish. So, after a discussion with a very confused course marshal, we rolled past the final turn and into Rambouillet. 45 minutes of lively banter and a large beer later, we rolled back to where we bypassed the finish, made the turn, and coasted into the finish line chaos.



For me, 89 hours and 4 minutes after rolling out on Sunday night. My other PBP finishes have been in the overnight hours when the finish area was largely deserted. Finishing late Thursday morning was much more like a party.

 



This PBP was my third and my 12th 1200km. Every PBP is special and this one was no exception. If there is a better amateur cycling event in the world, I haven’t seen it yet! I feel very fortunate to have been able to participate in this ride and look forward to coming back every 4 years for as long as I’m able.

 

 

  

Monday, July 4, 2022

 THE MIDNIGHT SUN RANDONNEE 1200K

Endless Daylight and Endless Scenery


Not every 1200k offers a chance to ride in 24 hour daylight. Throw in amazing scenery, exotic wildlife, great roads with little traffic, 2 countries, and riding north of the Arctic Circle and you have the recipe for an epic adventure. 



I travelled to Umea, Sweden with Spencer Klaassen, Joe Edwards, Rod Geisert, and Jerry Christensen for the inaugural edition of the Midnight Sun Randonnee 1200k. Umea is located 375 miles north of Stockholm and approximately 250 miles south of the Arctic Circle. We arrived in town a couple of days early and spent the time doing what travelling randos do. Basically, getting our bikes ready, packing our gear, and exploring the town- with an emphasis on its watering holes.

 




As usual, this report got a little long. If you want to just read the summary, feel free to skip to the last few paragraphs.

 

Around 9pm on start day, we leisurely rode the 6 miles to the start to check in. 





A couple of hours later, a saxophone player sent riders off on their adventure at 11:07pm - sunset. Although the sun set, it never got dark before the sun rose a couple of hours later. The first “night” of the ride was spent cruising over gently rolling terrain in a light fog. About three hours into the ride, the organizers had set up a secret control along a small pond. A quick break with some snacks and coffee was a nice break. The rest of the first day largely followed the Ume River Valley through controls at Lycksele and Storuman. After Storuman, the terrain seemed to get increasingly lumpy and we passed several stretches of road construction punctuated with some sketchy gravel. As the day progressed, we started catching glimpses of snow-covered mountains in the distance.  The mountains became more and more prominent as the day progressed.







After a 12 mile smooth gravel section we returned to pavement and the run into the control at Kittelfjall, 218 miles into the ride. 





By this point in the day, our group was pretty tired and not looking forward to the mountain climb that we were expecting to follow the control.  However, instead of the long, sustained climb we expected, we were treated to a long staircase climb along a series of lakes interspersed with a fast-moving river. We eventually crossed over the high point and the road wove between two high alpine lakes before dropping into a valley. The road through the valley was dominated by the sounds of falling water as the high mountain snow melt led to dozens of cascading ribbons of water.


 Eventually, the descent became more pronounced and we hurtled across the Norwegian border. 


While passing the miles remaining miles into Hattfjelldal, I got a bit ahead of our group. I  was able to see three Red Stag deer sitting in a farm pasture. This would have been nearing sunset, somewhere around 11 pm. Overall, the section between Kittelfjall and Hatfjelldal was the most scenic stretch of road I can ever remember riding. The combination of mountains, lakes, lush forests, and waterfalls were absolutely breathtaking. I checked into the hotel in Hattfjelldal at approximately midnight after 281 miles of riding.

 

Sometime in the 3 hours we were in the hotel, the weather changed. “Day 2” started out wet and gray. At first, we believed it was going to be a short shower, so I didn’t dress quite warm enough. The day started with an immediate mountain climb and the rain became more and more steady. After a few miles, I realized I had misjudged the forecast and started looking for a spot to stop and add clothes and my water resistant booties. Magically, a small shelter appeared with a concrete floor and dry benches. This was a perfect spot to take off my shoes and put my booties on. 



Over the next 25 or so miles, the very hilly road followed Lake Rossvatnet, Norway’s second largest lake. The relentlessly undulating terrain featured views out over the lake and the echoing sounds of bells ringing on the necks of grazing sheep. Even though covered in low clouds and heavy rain, this section featured unbelievable scenery. 



The reward for the hard work along the lake was a roughly 15 mile descent to the village of Korgen and a quick stop at a 7-Eleven.

 

At Korgen, the route joined the E-6, which is a major highway in that part of Norway. The highway had lots of large trucks, heavy traffic, narrow shoulders, and a handful of even narrower tunnels. After the peaceful roads of the past day and a half, I found this very unnerving. The heavy traffic continued as I approached the coast and the control at Yttervik Camping. 




Somehow, I had gotten ahead of the rest of the group so I waited at the control for over an hour. The veggie wrap at the control wasn’t particularly filling but I was able to enjoy a couple cups of coffee and get out of the rain in a warm room. When they didn’t arrive, I decided to go ahead. I ended up riding the remainder of the day alone. The route continued on the E6 with crazy traffic through the town of Mo i Rana. The heavy traffic improved somewhat after leaving Mo i Rana but would remain fairly busy throughout the day as I climbed towards the Arctic Circle. After a long gradual climb and a made-to-order gas station hamburger, I made it to the Arctic Circle Center. The Center was a full-blown tourist attraction, with a large gift shop, a full service restaurant, and tourists from all the world.  

 



Leaving the Arctic Circle Center, the road continued to climb across a large plateau. Knowing that I had a cabin rented just 20 miles past the Arctic Circle Center, I was mentally begging for the descent to start. Across the plateau, I was cold and wet and estimated the temperatures to be between 35 and 40 degrees, at best. After what seemed like hours, I reached the descent and plunged over the edge. However, instead of being an enjoyable treat, the descent felt like torture. I was still wet and cold but now had the added wind chill. I was so cold that I was shaking very badly and was worried that my shaking would lead me to lose control of the bike. Additionally, there was a lot of traffic to contend with. Immediately next to the road was a wide river crashing down the mountain side. In the glimpses I could steal, it looked absolutely amazing, but I wasn’t in much of a condition to stop and look. Eventually, I arrived at the Saltdal Turistsenter, where I had a cabin reserved. The check in was at a convenience store. While waiting for my key, I asked the lady if I was allowed to buy beer to take to the cabin. She said I could but that she would need to open it. Obviously, I told her to “get opening then.”

 


Once in the cabin, I laid all of my wet clothes out over the heat vents, took a quick shower, drank my 2 beers as fast as I could and laid down for a 2 hour nap. By the time I woke up my clothes were completely dry and I was ready to go again. I had planned to walk back to the c-store to buy food for breakfast. However, it was now about 11pm and the store was closed. So, I ate the little bit of snacks on my bike and took off for the 32 miles to the next control.  The route immediately started with a long, steep climb on an abandoned highway that was blocked with a gate. For a time, I was nervous about whether this was really the route. Again, the scenery on this climb was amazing and I had plenty of time to take it in as I inched up the steep grade.



I had carefully planned how much time I could stay at Saltdal and still make the cutoff at the next control in Sandvikens Fjallgard. I knew there was a major climb immediately after Saltdal and I was feeling pretty good about myself when I summitted the climb and was rolling along the mostly flat road towards Sandvikens Fjallgard.  Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten all the route details quite right. I was snapped back into reality when my Garmin alerted me that I was starting a 9 kilometer climb. At this point, I started doing lots of math and realized the cutoff at Sandvikens Fjallgard was going to be close. As I got over the main part of the climb, I was disheartened to see that the terrain kept undulating upwards for another 5-6 miles across the Swedish border. I went through this section shortly after midnight, with no one else around.  I didn’t see any cars or bikers for the entire section between Saltdal and Sandvikens Fjallgard .  Even the border station was deserted.  The mountains on either side of me were snow covered and the alpine lakes were still frozen. I’m pretty sure temperatures were below freezing and I was definitely frozen as I finally reached the descent to the control at Sandvikens Fjallgard. Although this section was really hard, it was one of the more memorable sections of the entire ride.

I walked into the control 13 minutes before it closed. The volunteer pointed me towards a sleeping cabin with food. I was able to find one of the last open bunks and ate a quick meal of what I think was reindeer and seasoned spiral noodles. I planned to sleep for 90 minutes and go back to the camp store to stock up on food for the 91 kilometers (56 miles) to the next control. However, for the second straight stop, I found the store locked up when I awoke.

 




Without a lot of options, I decided to leave the control at 4 am with no food. My hope was that within a couple of hours stores at some of the other camps along this big lake would start to open and I could stock up. So, I decided to just pedal easy and try to conserve energy until then. I was wearing all of the clothes I had and was still uncomfortably cold. Fortunately, the terrain was gentle and actually trending downhill because I never did see an open store and had to roll the entire 56 miles to Arjeplog without food. I didn’t quite realize it at the time, but by this point of the route, all of the terrain related challenges of the course were behind us. When I rolled into Arjeplog, I was surprised to see Rod and Joe there ahead of me. They had been sleeping in another cabin at Sandvikens Fjallgard , and had left sometime shortly before me. Fortunately, the hotel in Arjeplog had a breakfast buffett in their restaurant. I had a huge breakfast and was able to remedy my calorie deficit. After a quick 60 minute nap, Rod, Joe, and I rode out of Arjeplog. We would ride together for the rest of the adventure.

 


Leaving Arjeplog, the three of us were talking about not having seen much wildlife yet. Within a couple of miles, I noticed what looked like a paceline of bikers approaching in the oncoming lane. As we got closer, it became clear that they were reindeer walking down the road. We weren’t really sure what to do, so we pulled to the side of the road and watched them walk towards us. After a few minutes, passing cars scared the reindeer into the woods. Over the next couple of hours we would see a smattering of reindeer. 





We arrived at Sorsele around 5:30pm, checked into the control, and then did a quick run through of a grocery store next to the control. I stocked up on food for the morning and to carry. We then checked into the River Hotel at 6:00 pm, with a plan to be on the road again at 8:30pm. Needless to say, the desk clerk was a bit confused by our plan.

 

We ended up leaving Sorsele at 8:45 pm and headed out for the 100 mile section to Amsele. Shortly after leaving Sorsele, we picked up Elaine, a rider from Northern California. We passed through an endless dense forest without much for houses and no towns of any sort. One of the highlights of the ride happened when we came upon a reindeer standing in the middle of the road. When he saw us approaching, he stood on the centerline facing us, ready  to defend his territory .  Rod slowly moved towards him. The reindeer then turned and ran 40 or 50 yards down course and again turned to face up. This happened 3 or 4 times before he finally left the roadway and ambled into the woods. For a large portion of this section, we rode next to a large rushing river. About half way through, the rains returned. Coincidentally, the heaviest rain came in the hour between sunset and sunrise, so we actually had to turn on our headlights for a couple of hours. It didn’t get dark enough for them to light the roadway, but they did help us be seen. About 75 miles into this long leg, I was getting a bit dejected from the cold rain and seemingly slow progress. At some random intersection in the middle of the woods, I noticed a building that looked like bathrooms. When I went to investigate, I learned that they were small single unit bathrooms with HEAT. I went back outside and flagged Joe and Elaine in. We decided to take a short warming break. The break made a huge difference and seemed like a turning point in this section.

 



We rolled into Amsele, wet and tired but knowing that we only had about 70 miles to go. I was able to change into dry clothes, ate some potatoes and pork bits (I thinks she called it something like hout) that a volunteer was cooking over an open fire, and take a short 30 minute nap. The remaining portion of the ride was fairly uneventful and highlighted by a cheeseburger and fries in the only real town we traveled through in this section.

 


We rolled into Umea just after 2:00 pm for a finish time of just over 87 hours.

 




The Midnight Sun Randonnee 1200k was an amazing experience. In my opinion, the ride rode much harder than the numbers would suggest. 30,000 feet of climbing for a 1200k event is pretty light. However, most of the climbing was concentrated in the middle 300-400km of the event. Additionally, cold temperatures and rain really added to the challenge. Finally, our group of Americans really struggled with food. Controls were generally 90-120 kilometers apart. Jerry’s son and grandson were able to meet us at some of the controls and we were able to pack sandwiches and snacks to carry on some of the sections. Overall, there were very few options for food outside of the controls for big sections of the route. The food at the controls was mostly a mix of wild game type meats with noodles. This included salmon, trout, reindeer, and elk. It was good but the portions were pretty small and the seasonings were unusual to American palates. The 24 hour daylight was perfect for a 1200k. However, it was a bit disorienting at times. There were times it took some thought to remember if it was 8:00 am or 8:00pm. During the 100 mile section that we started at 8:45 pm, it took us a few miles to process that even if we did go through a town with a store, it wouldn’t be open in the middle of the night anyway.

 

The Midnight Sun Randonnee 1200k was an amazing experience. The scenery was absolutely amazing. I will be daydreaming about alpine lakes, rivers, mountains, waterfalls, and reindeer for years to come.