Sept 30, La Selle en Selle Cyclosportif

Literally, "Saddle to saddle", Maissons-Laffitte to Chantilly and back, a ride connecting the two major horse venues in France. And of course the double entendre, we'll be doing it on selles quite a bit smaller than horse saddles. I'm riding with the club from Houilles, a small suburb near Maissons-Laffitte and the St Germain en Laye area where I'm staying. I met the club last year by chance in the Foret de St Germain and made a good friend in Jean-Manuel, who happens to speak very good English and tutors me in cycling jargon. Now that this has happened twice to me, I really don't think it's unusual. Large groups of riders go out on an almost daily basis and it isn't hard to run into a group and get a place in the peloton. A few friendly words, the realization that you're an American and soon you belong. It helps to be a good rider, familiar with the ettiquette and technique of road riding as well.

I've been looking forward to today's ride, not having been north of Paris except for the ride to Charles de Gaulle airport, but I'm worried about the weather. Meteo.fr has been saying for days that it will be cold and rainy. Of course, the day breaks without a cloud in the sky. A short drive to the hippodrome, horse park, and I'm taking off my leg warmers and wondering about the arm warmers. They stay, but only until I'm warmed up. Jean Manuel shouts a "Hi, Chris" (I guess a 6'6" man dressed in a jersey and shorts with English writing on it really stands out) and we're off to registration. I receive a carte for receiving stamps at the different controls, a map of the route with turn by turn directions on the back and we're off, crossing the Seine and heading north.

The pace isn't intended to be too high, (but we end up finishing the 165 k ride in just over five hours) and Jean Manuel wants to make sure the ten club riders and me stay together. I assure him that's fine; I'm still feeling jet-lagged and not sure how my legs will feel today. The riders run the gambit of experience and age. We have a 23 yr old guy on a Trek 1400 and the 68 yr old president of the club on his Colnago-Ferrari (a very cool bike, by the way, though in the end the bike does not make the rider-the young guy finished with our lead group and we didn't really see the president until the end of the ride).

There are about 200 riders out and they all leave at different times until 9:30. We hit the road at just after 8 and settle into a nice easy pace, right around 19mph or so. There's no wind and the sun is bright and this is exactly why I go through the hassle of bringing my bike to France!

The first control is at the 77k point in a little field before the tiny village of Gouvieux. I get there with Gerrard, a strong rider in the Houilles club, who likes to work hard with his nose in the wind. There are energy drinks that taste faintly of ginger, chocolate, and a kind of honey bread. I taste things, but I still have a full bottle of my own FRS drink and four energy bars, so I'm good. Jean Manuel tells the race organizers that I'm an American and everyone is smiles. A few minutes, my conversational French nearly exhausted and off we go.

Lunch is at the the Hippodrome in Chantilly, the second selle in the name of the event. This is a gorgeous place, an old city with a wonderful Royal Chateau at its edge and lots of woods with riding paths for horses. It's kind of like the castle at Disneyland mixed with Churchill Downs and set in the middle of the woods of southern Wisconsin. Tables were loaded with food, baguettes filled with pate de jambon, ginger drink, beer, lots of honey bread and cheese. The pate is an example of how things in French often sound better than they are. Ham salad is ham salad all around the world.

The return loop from Chantilly was very nice for about 40k, passing through the extensive forests between Chantilly and Oise. Small narrow roads twist through the forest, wide enough for maybe one car, people on horseback often sharing the paths. After the last checkpoint at 118k in Porte Baillet, I remember that we are, afterall, riding into the suburbs of one of the world's largest cities. Sprawl, gated communities, a Toys-R-Us, lots of traffic and confusing roads and we're back in Maissons-Laffitte. I should throw in that by this time we have formed a nice and tight group of about 8 riders from different clubs and we're hammering along at about 24mph. There's even a sprint at the finish in the Foret de St Germain, won by a certain American, and the final controle for stamping my carte.


And I drink a lovely, light and cold French bier at the finish. The jet-lag has been rinsed from my soul, I've made some more friends and acquaintances and the president of the club just paid my 5 euro entry fee. Life is good!