May 23rd, 2026
Next year, it's Paris-Brest-Paris. So, generally speaking, to sign up it's better to have a small brevet in the bag the year before. Not mandatory, but better. And so, in 2027 I want to be part of the party, which is why I chose to ride a 600km out of Chartres.
There were 2 options: an easy one, without much climbing, heading "to the gates of the Morvan", and another that took on the whole Orne and its magnificent elevation. Now, the Orne, I love it — I'm actually slowly moving there, and I spend more and more time in La Madeleine-Bouvet. But anyway, I know the area, I understand full well it won't be easy, and above all, right now I'm not riding at all. At all. A few cargo-bike trips to go play brass band music, but that's it. To be honest, I literally pulled my bike out of its travel bag for the occasion — it had been in there ever since my run at the RAAM in 2022.
I'm not setting off alone, because I managed to talk a good friend of mine into it — someone I make music with. To keep his identity secret, we'll call him "Mimile". Mimile has never done a brevet, so this is his first, and he's starting with a 600, but it'll go fine — he rides regularly, I'm not worried.
Valérie drives us to the start. We get there right as everyone's leaving... So we'll be starting behind the pack. A good thirty people or so, from what I can see. No big deal.
Friendly chat with the organisers at the start, we grab a bit of cake, have a coffee, and off we go!
The forecast says: hot! As I write these lines we're already into our 3rd heatwave of the summer, and it might not be over yet... But at this point we're still at the stage where some TV talking head is bellowing that it's perfectly normal, it's summer (well, that's false, it's May...) and that 90°F is no big deal. I don't quite know what to do with the boomer brigade — the "we had scorching summers back in my day too, quit whining" crowd who just won't accept that the climate is changing. You want to throw them out the window, but it wouldn't do much good. It could be 140°F and they'd still be explaining that there's no need to panic. On immigration and the danger of "the others", on the other hand, they hear you loud and clear, no problem, you've got to be worried. It's disheartening...
But back to the bike.
I'm delighted to find that my trusty steed, out of its bag, runs like clockwork. A marvel.
And so we reach the first checkpoints. Now, there's an app to "check in" online. But I much prefer checking in the old-fashioned way, with the card.
First checkpoint then at Vallery. Mile 83. We look for a shop. There was one right on my right but I didn't see it... I faff about the village a bit. Then we finally backtrack, and check in at the "Le Beau Soleil" tabac (very aptly named — "the beautiful sun"). The owner serves us a little homemade lemonade, a treat. I'd asked for a citrus Schweppes, but what he serves us is delicious. We top up the bottles, and off we go again.
We managed to bump into a few mates along the way, whom we'd caught up to. I chat. I learn that one of our fellow riders builds machines used in grain silos. Fascinating. Apparently one of the technological problems they have to solve is the risk of explosion and/or fire. Because indeed, the atmosphere inside a silo is full of vapours and gases just waiting to go boom at the slightest spark, and sparks, when you've got machines with metal everywhere, happen fast.
Right, and then we finally leave them behind, after an improvised bakery-sandwich stop.
On that note, next checkpoint, Migennes Mile 118. There's some kind of fair over there, loads of people, it's Saturday, it's party time. We find a café, fill the bottles, but wouldn't you know it, they've got no stamp. So we end up getting stamped at a community-run cinema. Very nice.
And now off to Vézelay, Mile 166. We'll get there late in the evening. We're hungry. I suggest Mimile book a restaurant — I'm not sure there'll be room, I hope so, but you can never be too careful. We book.
And there we cross paths with a guy who has a problem: he's riding the 600 like us but his GPS is out of battery. Mimile offers him his charger. He'll give it back at Vézelay. Trouble is, the guy isn't making progress... And we'd rather not arrive too late, to eat, etc. We split the difference: Mimile goes on ahead, and I accompany our comrade to Vézelay, where he'll give me back the charger.
So Mimile shoots off like lightning. And I stay behind. Huge frustration arriving on a big flat stretch before the final climb. I could have ridden at 22 mph and the bike, the carbon wheels, ask for nothing more. But we top out at 12 or 15 mph, our companion is cooked. On the final climb (yes, Vézelay is at the top of the hill...) he'll walk, and I'll admit it was climbing steeply. I get the charger back, he goes off to sleep and rest, and I join Mimile at the restaurant.
So we end up at Cuisine à vue where, my word, we eat very well — it's gourmet, I wasn't expecting that, but it does the job wonderfully. And we realise there wasn't really any need to book, there are 3 brasseries per square yard in the village.
We set off again, heading into the night.
Next checkpoint not far off, at Mile 182. There we drop into a bar hosting the local revellers. The blue zone. It's dark, they've got a collection of infused rums and other drinks that under normal circumstances would have tempted me... But never during service, let's be serious!
So we ride on towards Nevers, next checkpoint at Mile 228. Coming into Nevers, I spot a pizza vending machine. Without a second thought, we stop. And we order pizzas from the machine. Mimile is starting to get sleepy. I suggest a micro-nap while the pizza "cooks" in the machine. Just then, some young kids show up. We chat. They don't have a bank card, so I order their pizzas and they pay me back in cash. We talk. We explain what we're doing. I ask them if they know where we might be able to buy/find something to drink. They point us to a grocery in the town centre. Great encounter, but anyway, we've got road to cover.
And we finally find the grocery. I think we'd have found it without the kids' help, the route goes right past it. And so "L'épicerie du petit bled" (that's its name — "the little backwater grocery") is indeed open. Out front, a score of people chatting away. The owner opens the gate for us. I buy water, cans of soda, I stock right up. And we head off to consume it all a bit further on, it's a little short on quiet here.
And so there we go, off to the next CP.
Trouble is, Mimile is flagging, he's falling asleep. I try to scout out a spot to sleep and set my sights on a car wash. The floor is clean and dry (concrete), we're more or less out of sight, it's perfect! We sleep a few dozen minutes, and off we go again.
Personally, I could have pushed straight on, I wasn't especially sleepy, but that little nap didn't do me any harm either.
At daybreak, we get caught by a whole bunch of riders going much faster than us but who slept a lot, in any case more than us. I take stock of our splits — in my opinion we're getting back in 35 or 36h, but not much less.
The heat, making its grand return this morning, has done some damage.
Last checkpoint at Mile 283, at Aubigny-sur-Nère. And now there's 93 miles left to slog. In the full blazing sun. With not a scrap of shade (the Beauce, the French Kansas...) and little company.
I'll admit I cravenly let Mimile do the work, I tuck into his wheel and wait for it to pass. I'm not moving. The lack of training is fatal. I can finish a 600, but not a "fast" 600. But no matter, we finally make it to the destination, with pretty colours, we've got a good tan, we validated our 600, a nice yellow card stamped just right, all's well that ends well.
Randonneur brevets — they're good for you, get stuck in!