Every September, La Pomme de Marseille, a local cycling club with which I am affiliated, organizes and hosts a huge weekend of cycling events including both timed and more leisurely group rides of varying distances. I have often wanted to participate, but for one reason or another it has never quite worked – until this past weekend. I was in town and the weather was to be good and so with a little help from La Pomme, I was able to get in. I had a great day.

I went to the start/finish area on Saturday to register and the hardest part was really navigating the very steep stairs down to the floor of the indoor athletic facility where the registration tables were set up. I was terrified. No handrails and again, very steep. The Health and Safety group of any mining company would not be impressed. And I was in running shoes! People were going up and down in hard cleated cycling shoes. As I keep muttering to myself, we are all one slip and fall away from disaster.

Disaster avoided, I registered for the 50km offering and returned home to ponder the big decision of the day – what would I wear? That was the balance of the afternoon, but I eventually chose my kit and attached the number tag to the back of the shirt and the separate number tag to the back of my bike. It was only of course the next morning that I realized the bike tag should be on the handlebars. Note to self – always carry extra zip ties.

The start/finish was located on the Luminy university campus which is located just on the edge of Marseille and about 5km from our home. It is a lovely campus in the middle of forest and hills and just a spit away from the sea and the calanques for which Marseille is famous. It really is lovely. It reminds me of the Laurentian University campus in Sudbury.

After a sleepless night of usual pre-ride worry, Sunday arrived and I got dressed and finished bike preparation and off I returned to Luminy. The roads were quiet and in fact closed upon getting close to Luminy so all in all uneventful. I found the proper corral entrance and as always, stayed at the back – way back. The hounds were released and it was a “gentle” two km ride downhill before turning to tackle the first of three or four (depending on how you categorize them) climbs.

Perhaps not shockingly, I was shocked by the rudeness of this hoard of riders. The memo had clearly not been issued and therefore not read reminding people to pass on the left and slower riders (like me) to the right. And not one person was calling out or indicating road bumps and hazards. My pulse quickened.

Having survived that, I was into the first climb on the closed road over Mont La Gineste (325m summit) when behind me I heard what I can only describe as a cacophony of five or six young ladies no doubt catching up on something important very important. The entire mountain was silent but for this crew! They clearly were going to pass me anyway so I purposefully slowed down (to the right) to let them pass quicker before my ears began to bleed.

After that, the balance of the climb and descent was fine. On the climb, I even managed to pass a few people who were actually clipped in to their pedals as opposed to wearing flip flops. Little victories. To distract me, I played a guessing game to myself as to what could possibly be in the backpacks of the cyclists on the road! I just don’t get it. This was 50km, not an unsupported rally through the dessert. I guess they did not read that memo either.

On went the ride. I had thought it was a full “closed course” but that was not the case. By Cassis there was traffic backed up everywhere being directed by people who really had no idea with they were doing. One roundabout was especially harrowing. I think the traffic jam made the drivers more aggressive than they otherwise would have been without traffic calming

Up the next climb and this time I heard from behind me one side of what seemed to be a very loud telephone conversation between a cyclist and either his wife or his proctologist. Not sure which one. Again, I slowed down to the right to let Mr. Airpod get out of earshot.

I knew all of the roads of the course. Some of the route I had not done for awhile and it was nice to be on these roads again. I kept looking for an aide station to stop to get some water but they must have closed for the day before I passed them. Maybe I should have brought a backpack full of water bottles. Memo to file for next year.

I made my way up and down the last climb. It was shocking to me how fast some of the pelotons were going uphill let alone downhill. In fact it was a bit unnerving as they passed me with a mechanical whirr as opposed to a motor or exhaust.

Race concluded, I went looking for a water station, but I only found the beer station. The French do some things right. After that, I hopped back on my bike for the 5km ride home, this time though with traffic and the usual terrifying feeling of riding a bike in Marseille. I am not sure what is more dangerous, riding on the right on streets or on the dedicated bike lanes strewn with electric scooters and construction with no warning. And home I arrived, post a stop at the boulangerie of course. It is not a ride without a boulangerie. I have always said that there are three pockets on the back of a cycling jersey for a reason – one for the bottle of wine, one for the baguette and one for the cheese.

I am glad I did it. Whether I do it again or not, we will see. It was fun to be around so many other cyclists, but there is something to be said to just being out alone on a road with no plan in the quiet of the moment.