SSEC 07 Well, I'm back from Piolenc, France, which was the location of Single Speed Euro Championships last weekend. Don't bother looking for it on the map. Even the French people we asked about it hadn't heard of it. But it does exist. Oh yes, indeed. Luckily we had a handy dandy GPS unit in our rental car, making it a piece of cake to find. Well, a bit harder than cake, but we made it there didn't we? Day One - Thursday We stayed at a campground in nearby Mornas, in small two bedroom mobile home units with wood decks attached. It wasn't paradise, but it was cheap and comfortable, and also perfectly suited for a bunch of dirty singlespeeders like us. I'd say there were about 130 people who attended the event in total. On the first night we rode our bikes down to the village of Mornas for the opening night dinner. The seating was outdoors, and we were treated to fire-cooked mussels, fried potatoes, salad and wine. Lots of it. Yummy. After dinner a derby broke out, and in the end there was no clear winner so we decided to celebrate with some more wine. Oh, did I mention that this event took place in the heart of Provence? I hear they make wine there. Yup. Good wine, too. After dinner we rode back up the mountain to the campsite. The weather during this trip was perfect every day and night, so there seemed like no reason NOT to sit outside and sip some cool ones under the stars. I roomed with Chuck from Salsa and two French singlespeeders: Baptiste Delage and Eric Jegou. Baptiste brought with him some beer that was brewed in the town where he lives. I can't really explain what it was other than that it was tasty. Didn't really think there was a micro brew thing in France but apparently there is. Day Two - Friday
In the morning we loaded up our bikes and drove to Mont Ventoux. We parked a few cars in the village and proceed to shuttle ourselves and our bikes up to the top for the descent. On the way up we must have passed over 500 cyclists attempting to ride the famous Tour de France route up the mountain. Brutal. We were lucky in that we only had to ride down it, on dirt trails. Well, not so much dirt but more loose rock, but not on pavement. The ride down was a bit of an arm-pump inducing break-squealing experience, but a total blast nonetheless. At the end of the ride we headed back to camp to get cleaned up, then rode into Piolenc through vinyards and back roads to a vinyard where we ate dinner and did some pre-raceday cavorting through the nearby woods. I came back bruised and bloodied but none the worse for wear. The dinner was another great meal of simple French food and good wine. This time, after dinner we rode to the town center of Piolenc and left our bikes there for the next day race, then took a shuttle bus back to the campsite. What can I say? I'd be lying if I told you we didn't sit out on the deck and drink beer again into the wee hours. Day 3 - Saturday After breakfast we got our gear together and drove back into town to get ready for the race. We milled around for a couple of hours, ate lunch, then rode up the hill to the race site. It was the hottest day of the three, with a bright sun and very dry. This part of Provence feels almost like a desert, but with all the lush scenery around it is easy to forget this. As I was standing around waiting for the race to start I kept getting whiffs of rosemary. When I finally looked down I found that I was standing in the middle of a patch of it, just growing wild out here in the middle of the mountain forest. Right next to it was a thyme plant. Now all I needed was some garlic, olive oil and fresh young chickens to complete a meal. I swear I would have roasted it up right there if I could have. When everyone had finally made it up to the site we were told to leave our bikes there and walk down the hill to ready ourselves for a LeMans-style start. When they yelled "go" I was snapping pictures of the riders so I just let everyone go ahead of me. I really had no intention of racing but thought it would be fun to ride out and take pictures. When I got to where I had left my bike it was gone. The first thing I thought of was Phaty. He hid my bike, but I didn't care. Again, I was there for fun, not for competition. So I started looking for it and after a bit someone yelled that it might be over there or something, so I just let them tell me where it was. I jumped on and rode down the hill to the entrance of the singletrack. There was a really sweet jump right off the start that sent me up in the air a foot or two. The trail wound around and before long I was riding back through the start area where people cheered me on and rang cowbells (except for Phaty who simply told me I was dead effin' last). From there the course headed upward, but throughout the entire 9 mile loop there were only a couple of climbs that sought to sap me of my will to live. Mostly it was a nice combination of twisty singletrack and challenging technical terrain. Dusty and dry, but plenty of traction and with good flow. By far this is one of the best trails I have ridden. I caught myself yelping and laughing out load several times along the way. The only problem was I had only one water bottle with me, and after about five miles I was down to about a quarter of it remaining. The dry air was really sucking the moisture out of me. I decided I'd better take it easy, so I stopped in shady spots often to cool down and enjoyed the scenery. This gave me the chance to chat with some of the riders as I passed them (yes, I actually passed about 10 folks out there!). It felt better somehow to share our suffering and have a laugh together. Luckily I didn't bonk, but by the time I made it to the finish line I was parched pretty bad. I drank three bottles of water while recovering, after which I felt much better. In the evening we went to the awards dinner. The race was won by some lycra-clad racer geek who had only shown up for the race and left right afterward. He then showed up for the awards dinner to claim his prize only to be told that the awards wouldn't be handed out until after midnight, so he left with his group of cardio freaks never to be seen again. It makes me wonder if this event should change its name to avoid attracting this type of person, who spoils the fun for the rest of the cool folks who attend it for the right reasons. More wine, good food and great people made for another great night. By the time we got back to the campsite at 2:00 a.m. none of us felt like sitting outside and drinking more. Just kidding. We did. Again. Hey, it was the last night. What would you do?
It ended up being a fantastic event, and I can honestly say I learned a lot about the French singlespeed scene and the people who make it happen. I want to say thanks to everyone who showed up for the event, and a special thanks to David and Gybe for organizing it and making it so much fun for everyone. We will definitely be back. Thanks also to Baptiste and Eric for putting up with this big noisy American in their cabin. It was a lot of fun. Check out the Surly flickr site for my pictures, and also the SSEC07 flickr site for a bunch more. -----