The 21st Paris-Brest-Paris Randonneur is taking place in 2027. When I completed the 2019 event, the support, encouragement and general goodwill of spectators along the route was what stuck with me the most. The challenge of riding the distance (1200km) in under 90hrs and all the rolling hills along the way became little more than a fading memory.

I quite fancy having another go at it next year. There’s 8000 places but I’m pretty sure it’s always oversubscribed. Pre-registration opens on January 16th 2027 for those that have completed a 1000+km BRM (Brevet des Randonneurs Mondiaux) in 2026.

A 1000+km ride is a significant undertaking for me. One a year is quite enough. It’s not only the distance but how much climbing there is along the way and the limited time to complete the ride. Put all these together and invariably I’m riding through at least one night and trying to manage the effects of sleep deprivation. All the same I was up for the challenge so entered the ACME Grand: West to the Sea 1000 to set my way towards PBP 2027.

Sleeping Arrangements

Riding through the night is something I really do enjoy. The air often tends to be still. The roads are empty. Passing through sleeping towns and villages in the early hours of the morning gives me a feeling that I am doing something a bit special. At the same time though it messes with my body clock and has in the past had an adverse effect on my general constitution. For this reason I planned to stop riding while it was still dark and be back on the road just before dawn. Since the ride was in July it started to get light between four and five am.

On the Thursday and Friday night I stopped around midnight. Graveyards as you might expect are quiet and attract few if any visitors during the night. Ideal for setting down a sleeping mat and getting a few hours rest in. The first night was at the 250km mark in Tadmarton, behind St Nicholas Church. The second was at about the 500km mark at Eglwys Llanfihangel Ystrad, Felinfach near Lampeter, after the Welsh mountain climbing from Hay-on-Wye to Aberaeron. With an additional 90 minutes lie down between Hay and Aberaeron during the hottest hours of Friday afternoon — a sudden and overwhelming attack of the dozzies — I slept in total for about 10–11 hours.

Waking Up in Barry

It was when I got to Barry at just before 1.30pm on the Saturday that the consequence of my somnambulist indulgence hit me. I was close to 5 hours behind schedule with near enough 440km to go. Woops! Could have planned that better. The only way I was going to finish in time now was to ride continuously through to the end.

It felt a daunting prospect but possible. I doggedly set to it with determined focus.

South Wales and a Long Evening

The stretch from Barry to Chepstow was mostly horrible. Flat but into the wind for much of the way. Nasty A roads and via ugly industrial wastelands of South Wales. If I had more time I would have appreciated the desolate steel works I passed by. Since I did not, I was simply pushing hard to get past the busy and noisy dual carriageway I needed to follow for what seemed far too long.

The next stage up to Pershore was lovely. Very hilly but through some beautiful countryside and woods along well maintained minor A roads and country lanes. Towards the end, at Upton upon Severn the whole town was closed to motor traffic. There was a Blues Festival going on. Loads of people milling about in the street holding drinks and munching street food. It felt a bit surreal to be there navigating my way through an inebriated crowd at around 9.00pm, me on a mission having been cycling since 4.30am and with still a very long way to go. I was though totally locked in and got through quickly and without incident.

Petrol Stations and Pizza

I arrived at a petrol station in Pershore at around a quarter to ten. The lights were on but the door was locked and no attendant to be seen. I was not in the mood for this and sorry to say got a bit impatient. Knocking on the door, calling out for the attendant was the half of it. After what seemed much too long but probably only about ten minutes the young attendant appeared looking somewhat sheepish, unlocked the door and apologised for his absence. To make matters worse the coffee machine was not working. I left there still feeling a bit annoyed. This was not a bad thing since the annoyance was converted to cycling energy and in no time at all I was up to speed and making good progress once more.

Pizza was on my mind. I’d been craving one since before Pershore. Riding through Banbury on the way to Towcester I saw a place I could get one. It was heaving with people, many of whom seemed drunk and were making a right din. Another odd interlude to my ride through the night. I got my order and sat down to eat it, oblivious to while being slightly amused by the commotion surrounding me.

Towcester control was a quick five minute break for a pint of milk and a receipt at an all night garage. Onward into daybreak and St Neots.

The Final Push

I was now struggling to stay awake and was doing whatever I could to keep my eyes open. Counting telegraph poles, spelling out signs, singing and talking to myself. Anything to stave off drifting off to sleep. I dosed up with a large Americano plus a double espresso shot at St Neots before the penultimate stage towards Buntingford.

At each of the controls from Chepstow onwards I’d steadily been making back the time I’d spent sleeping on the first couple of nights. About an hour each time. But by the time I got to Buntingford at 09:44 on Sunday morning I was still 20 minutes outside the control’s closing time. The last stretch back to Witham was just a tad under 62km. I had at most 3hrs 11m to cover the distance and make up that deficit. Under normal circumstances that would pretty much be a sure thing. However, at the end of a 1000km audax, and having been cycling for close to 32hrs without sleep over the last 400km and goodness knows how much elevation, it was by no means in the bag.

As these things go it was on this stage that my GPS headset decided to get confused. Twice it lost track and needed to reload the route. On the third occasion I decided to stop, turn it off and on again. Thankfully that resolved the issue.

Soon after that and for the first time since Barry two others passed me on their way back to Witham. Pete and John. I was so happy to see them. They were riding as though out on a Sunday club run in a similar way to when I last saw them back just after the first control. There was no way I could keep up and it was with a bit of a heavy heart I saw them race away ahead of me. All I could do now was push on as best I could. The natural anaesthetics that had got me through to this point seemed to have also reached their limit. My legs were fine but my feet and hands were now feeling every bump and vibration along the way. The headset’s ETA was slowly getting closer and closer to the 1.00pm cutoff time. I finally entered Witham High Street just gone 12:45 and rolled into the arrivée at Battesford Court at 12:47. I’d made it.

Numbers

In total I rode 1068km with 10,689m elevation in 74hrs 47m — 13.5kmph overall including stops. Total moving time was 52hrs 23m at a moving average of 20.4kmph. My first time ever to win the accolade of lanterne rouge. Being the last to finish and with just thirteen minutes before the cut off time felt pretty good to me.

Stage-by-Stage Breakdown (Recorded GPS Data)

Stage 4 was split by the sleep stop at Tadmarton and stage 7 the sleep stop at Felinfach.

A Few Pictures from Along the Way