Amongst the "cognoscenti" who frequented Bicyclesport, the word was that the "two Mikes" had some thing "in the works." During the early summer of 1982 they had constructed two touring bikes the like of which most us had never seen - just heard rumours. They were built of lightweight racing tube-sets, yet had longer wheelbases, more relaxed angles and wider clearances than a racing bike. They also had custom-made front and rear narrow lightweight racks, narrow mudguards, two or three bottle mounts and a generator that, whilst riding, could be activated via a lever near the seat cluster.

We scratched our heads. What kind of ride would require the generator to be turned on in motion? Answer - Alpine tunnels. It transpired that the two were planning to cross the Pyrenees from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean by a prescribed route with time limits. Accompanied by Bob Zeller as their support vehicle driver/photographer/motel proprietor (this was early September, and all the hotels were closed), they were given a stern lecture by the organiser in Paris regarding the futility of their endeavour. Nobody had attempted the ride that late in the season. What with the mountains, cold, snow, and Mike Barry getting the flu, things got tough. But, of course, the tough got going, and they finished the ride many hours inside the time limit.

When Mike Barry gave their presentation and slide show of their exploits (very much in the vein of Don Quixote/Sancho Panza) at Bicyclesport, it transpired that he (taciturn fellow sometimes) was a friend of that famous cycling journalist Jock Wadley. Jock used to cover the TDF riding his Holdsworth bicycle to two or three points in the same stage by taking short cuts. His articles about the Tour would segue from the race to his own imagined participation whilst riding from one viewing point to another (aided also by the locals who will cheer anybody on a sports bike during the Tour).

In 1971 his enthusiasm and ability at long-distance riding had been noticed by some cyclo-sportif "randonneur" types and he was invited to participate in that year's "Paris-Brest-Paris". No doubt they turned a blind eye to his preference for "hushpuppies" over cycling shoes - the cleats hurt his feet and he couldn't leap off the bike and become a journalist with the required degree of agility. Hence the "Hush Puppies" - "Got to jump through this throng to get those succinct phrases out of "Pou-Pou", Graezyk, or Anquitel."

His experiences were recorded in "Old Roads and New", published in the north of England, read by thousands of club riders and led to the eventual formation of Audax UK, and a successful participation in PBP 1975 by (I guess) 75 Brits. We sat there listening spellbound to Mike Barry, because here was somebody that knew somebody that had actually participated in that mythical dream-event -the "Holy Grail" of cycling achievement, Paris Brest Paris. Yes, we had heard of it but it was regarded as unassailable - you couldn't just show up at the start and hope to ride!

This "Raid Pyrennes" that he and Mike Brown had just so spectacularly completed was, of course, organised by an affiliate organisation to the one that ran PBP. Like Svengali, Mike Barry was controlling our minds (and I am sure anticipating orders for some of those desirable Mariposa long-distance steeds). But he wouldn't commit himself, other than to say (to quote current popular or otherwise remarks) "Just watch me".

November and December passed and thoughts of cycling extended towards Rideau Lakes and great Canadian Bike Rally in Paris, Ont. - ideas of PBP were remote. In January, Bicyclesport announced that a presentation on PBP would take place the following week! About 25 eager-beaver starry-eyed wannabees heard Jerry Pareja from Vancouver relate his exploits in PBP 1979 and show the French language video. The enthusiastic response galvanized Mike Barry and Mike Brown into forming a new cycling club - the Toronto Randonneurs. Little did they realise at that time that future participation by the shop staff would curtail their own rides in the event.

While I was contemplating a choice of steeds for this pursuit of the Holy Grail, Mike Barry, Mike Brown, and Bob Zeller were plotting behind closed doors and open roads. Unbeknownst to us future randonneurs, they were concocting a challenging series of brevet rides to qualify us for PBP (assuming we made the mandatory and secret checkpoints). Randonneur riding is best described to noncycling people as a car rally on bicycles - you have to reach a certain point by a certain tune, have your card stamped, and proceed to the next control. At some time on the journey you come across an undisclosed secret check point. If this occurs on a gravel road in the middle of a miserable downpour, turning the surface into a quagmire, so be it.

They had designed some great routes - I forget the title of the 200K, but the 300 was the Tour of Lake Simcoe and the 400 was the tour (circumnavigation) of Lake Simcoe and Lake Scugog. They hadn't figured out (no time maybe) a unique 600K course, so it was a combo of the other routes, unfortunately returning to Yonge/Finch after the first leg (tempting to drop out here!). Anyway the route sheets they provided were impressive. Start here, proceed to there, turn left, proceed to there, turn right, and then you were on a gravel road. Go straight on this gravel road for 8 km, never mind the flat tires and wipe-outs.

Torture, we said! Mike and Mike said, Boy-Scout-like, "Be prepared - the worst may yet be to come!" Of course, there is minimal gravel in PBP. Some Audax Parisienne types who had admired the 2 Mike's "Raid Pyrenees" had probably asked them if there were any other riders of their calibre in Canada and I'm sure that Mike B. said "of course". In order to cover his ass/save face he put in these gravel roads - "to build character".

I missed the 200K, but by fall-back went with Florent D'Arras, Kasimir Sadek, and Hans Brucker to the 200K in Syracuse. This was a very wobbly event. The turns were marked by double painted arrows on the road. If you had made the correct turn, straight arrows were your confirmation. I was riding with (behind) Kas and Florent and I became quite agitated when I realised that we had passed a turn that was noted on the scheme-sheet (the large starting group had taken three different directions before this point!). I rode on cogitating, made my mind up and wheeled around on the road and retraced my cadence to Dotaxeur Road to rejoin the official route. Emerging from the checkpoint, I was delighted to meet James Konski, chief bigwig of Randonneurs USA (Editor's note: Jim Kronski was, in fact, the chief of the International Randonneurs, which ceased to exist in 2000, and was replaced by Randonneurs USA as the American randonneuring organization.) He wrote the route, so I decided to ride with him and not get lost. He was very friendly and chatty, and we got along great, but at such a slow pace I was worried about making checkpoints. Not to worry - he had done this before. We concluded the ride - the others had finished hours before. It was a happy experience to have qualified for the first brevet for PBP 1983!