Tro Bro Léon Challenge
I took part in the Tro Bro Léon 150km Road division on a Brompton. I completed the course except for the final 10km loop, though I reckon I was well past the cut-off time.
Event Overview#
Tro Bro Léon is an annual cycling event held in the Brittany region of France. It is often dubbed ‘The Paris–Roubaix of the West’ or ‘Brittany’s Paris–Roubaix’. The Tro Bro Léon Challenge is an event that allows amateur riders to experience the very same race course used by UCI ProSeries cyclists.
To be honest, I didn’t know much about this event in advance. With a distance of 150km and an elevation gain of around 1,200m, I just assumed it was a standard gran fondo. It was only when I was planning my travel right before the event that I realised the Road cycle course included 22 unpaved sections known as Ribinoù. It was my mistake for registering for a race simply because it was close to home, without doing proper research.
The 150km road route I took featured 22 Ribinoù sections and 4 feed stations.
Why I Rode a Brompton#
Looking back, it was a reckless challenge. What on earth possessed me to do this?
Taking a bike across the Channel is no small feat. Although I have a bike travel case for flying, I dislike using it because it requires dismantling the crankset from the frame. Driving is usually the best alternative, typically combined with a family holiday by putting the bike in the car. However, a family trip wasn’t feasible this time, and driving to catch a car ferry on my own felt rather inefficient.
In the end, I considered riding my road bike from Bournemouth to Plymouth, taking the ferry to Roscoff, and then riding from Roscoff to Lannilis on the road bike.
However, rain was forecasted in Brittany right before the event, making that plan impossible to execute.
I really didn’t fancy riding a road bike through muddy, unpaved sectors in the rain. Returning to the UK on a bike that urgently needed a proper wash made even less sense.
So I ended up making a decision that felt ‘sensible to me’—though probably ‘mad to anyone else’😅: replacing the Bournemouth ↔ Plymouth leg with a train journey, and using a Brompton for Roscoff ↔ Lannilis and the event itself.
I had to detour via Basingstoke or Salisbury to get to Plymouth by train.
Anyway, I made my way to Plymouth, boarded the ferry, and landed in Roscoff before riding the Brompton to Lannilis. Since my legs were still fresh early in the trip, I took a scenic 80km coastal route.
Arrived in Lannilis the day before the race to pick up my race number. It was number 78.
Race Results#
So British!!! 😂#
Everyone gave me astonished looks at the start line. Because I was riding a Brompton, I completely forgot to bring a helmet and had to buy the cheapest one I could find at a local bike shop in Plymouth. It was a Magneto helmet that looked like something you’d wear for rollerblading.
My unusual setup—the Brompton, the helmet, and my kit—turned heads and made me quite the spectacle at the venue. One Frenchman even called out, “So British!” 😂 An interviewer was approaching riders who stood out near the start, but not wanting to be interviewed, I slipped back into the second row.
An official photo taken by the organisers. The road surface was still wet right after the rain.
I moved towards the back to dodge the interview.
Total Self-Sufficiency (Except for 1L of Water)#
I reached the first feed station (35km) in 1 hour and 50 minutes, where the volunteer handing out supplies informed me I was in last place. Since my goal was simply to finish on the Brompton, I didn’t mind too much, though it did give me a slight push to step on it.
By the time I reached the second feed station (78km) at the 4-hour 20-minute mark, there was no food left. Luckily, I managed to get a 1-litre bottle of water, which I stuffed straight into my Brompton front bag. The third (114km) and fourth (143km) feed stations were already packed up and gone.
Anticipating this, I had brought my own ride fuel: 5 energy gels, 4 chocolate bars, and a biscuit packed in my front bag, which kept me going for 8 hours. It ended up being almost entirely self-sufficient.
Longest Ever Ride Without a Break#
The total ride took 8 hours and 17 minutes, with less than 18 minutes of stopped time. That meant riding a Brompton for 150km over 8 hours. On a road bike, it would have taken less than 6 hours.
Because my pace was slow, eating on the saddle wasn’t dangerous at all, and with a low heart rate, it didn’t feel overly exhausting. I kept moving steadily forward like an ant. Despite the slow pace, this was probably my longest ride ever without taking a break longer than 5 minutes.
It got quite boring with no one around. Around the 100km mark, I spotted another cyclist on a road bike. We exchanged greetings, but he soon pulled ahead and disappeared into the distance.
Still, the occasional Ribinoù sections added a welcome bit of tension to keep me on my toes, even though I dreaded them. Terrified of getting a puncture, I navigated all 22-plus gravel sectors with utmost caution.
The Ribinoù sectors kept me on high alert throughout the ride.
Beautiful Brittany#
With no steep mountains, the landscape featured wide-open horizons and a deeply indented coastline. The pastoral scenery of Brittany made the long hours far more bearable.
Seeing French shop signs made me feel even more like a stranger in a strange land. Riding alone along quiet roads in a place where I could barely communicate felt both enchanting and slightly eerie—a truly unique sensation.
When the rain cleared, the scenery was wonderfully pastoral.
The Final Compromise#
There was a final 10km loop around Lannilis in a anti-clockwise direction, but by the time I arrived back at the finish venue, I had no desire to ride it. Seeing virtually no one left at the finish area, I thought there was little point in tacking on another 10km. It was around 18:10.
At the finish line, I bumped into another rider who had been delayed by a puncture at the 70km mark. He had DNFed, but warmly congratulated me for pushing through to the finish. It was a brief chat, but he was the only person there to welcome me back, making it a lovely moment.
The return journey was brutally exhausting. Having done three consecutive days of long-distance riding on a Brompton without proper meals, riding back into a headwind was pure misery. I almost missed the ferry back to the UK, arriving with barely 30 to 40 minutes to spare before departure.