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Paris-Brest-Paris HOW IT BEGAN It all began in the spring of 2002. I was out on a training ride with my local club (Cycle Tuesdays) heading over Blewett Pass when we encountered a small and strange herd of cyclists that I later came to know as randonneurs. On that day we thought we were being pretty macho to be riding over Blewett to Highway 2 and then turning around and riding back over it to Cle Elum. This bunch of weirdos were riding 400 kilometers covering Snoqualmie, Blewett, and Stevens Passes. This was in mid-May before most cyclists are even seriously considering their first century ride of the year. They all had fenders, rain gear, lights, and a ton of equipment on their bikes. I viewed them disdainfully from my light and sexy bright red carbon fiber wonder machine knowing, without a doubt, that these people had crossed a line into a netherworld I had no desire to discover. Upon returning home I reported this incident to Robin who immediately perked up. He'd heard of randonneuring and had apparently been harboring a secret wish to find out more about it. That should have triggered a very loud alarm in my head but I just wrote it off and continued on my innocent cycling way with my own goal of the season being the Death Ride in California that July.
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