2023 Paris-to-Ancaster 🇨🇦
Winter in Canada can be known for being long, cold, snowy and dark. Fat-biking on snow-covered trails has become popular, but many Canadian cyclists use Zwift to satisfy that cycling bug until warmer weather returns. But like most cyclists worldwide, the itch to ride outside is always there, and most of us get outside riding as soon as possible.
One of the first events each spring that becomes a goal is the Paris-to-Ancaster race - touted as Canada's Spring Classic. The race's first edition was in 1994, as a homage to the Paris-Roubaix classic of cycling lore. But, of course, we have our own Paris here in Ontario, and just like the French classic, P2A - as it's commonly known - takes place on some of the harshest roads that can be found. The 2023 edition attracted nearly 3,000 participants from all over with three different course distances.
Paris Ontario is a picturesque town about 125km west of Toronto. This is mostly farm country, with quiet roads, rolling hills and, in the spring, lots of mud. Ancaster - the finish point of the race - is only 40km away to the east by a straight line, but the organizers of P2A find as many ways as possible to extend that distance for us cyclists. The Cento version is about 110km long, starts right in Paris and heads northwest from the town before turning back to the east. For the first time in 2023, the Cento route was the National Gravel Championship for Canadians. The Classic route starts just outside of Cambridge. The Cento route joins here and continues eastwards towards the village of St. George, where riders doing the 45km Breve route join in. From there, it's a twisty, dirty, rolling ride to the finish.
The route is a mix of public and private roads, some paved and some gravel. There are well-groomed rail trails and some muddy paths barely suitable for cycling. One of the great things that makes this a community event is the private land owners that open up their farm roads or trails across their property to give the race its unique character. Riders use a variety of bikes - gravel and cyclocross bikes are popular choices, but so are mountain bikes and even fat bikes.
The SISU Racing team is a mix of riders worldwide, with many Canadians. There were four of us registered for the event, Jason LeBel, brothers Erik (sadly injured and restricted to cheer leader and photography duties) and David Kalviainen and myself, Kevin. While the other guys had done the event previously, this was my first time entering. Between the great encouragement and support from the SISU team on our Discord channel and the fact that I live only a ten-minute ride from the Classic start line, I decided to try it for the first time this year.
April in this part of Canada can bring any weather imaginably. Past years have been cold, dry, windy, rainy and even snowy. Sometimes all in one day. But no matter the weather, parts of the course are known for being muddy, and this year the mud was extreme. It rained for 5 days leading up to the race. And this wasn't just a slight drizzle; this was hard, pouring rain. So, unfortunately, the Sunday race day forecast was more of the same.
Off I rode to the start and was wet within minutes. A friend once said, "when you're wet, you're wet." The same friend told me, "there's no bad weather, only bad clothing choices." That friend wasn't riding today.
The Classic race started in waves, with the faster riders leaving first. I was in the second wave and led the pack out of the gravel pit we started in (yes, really, a gravel pit) and onto the roads. There was no point in trying to stay clean or dry. The spray from other riders made everybody filthy and soaking wet almost instantly. Luckily, the forecasted hard rain didn't come, and we only dealt with a drizzle. But that didn't matter – the previous day's rains ensured the course was slick.
The first 1/3 of the course was mostly on roads, some paved, some gravel. After that, a couple of short but steep hills thinned out the packs, and most people were riding in smaller groups of 4-10 riders. I hadn't intended to treat this as a race, just a good challenging ride. But the adrenalin and fellow riders made me push. There were few spectators. Mostly the police officers and volunteers at intersections and turns. But people were there to cheer when the course crossed somebody's private land. The first hour was pretty calm, being mostly on roads, but then the course turned onto a section of singletrack trail where we were forced to get off and walk because several trees were down across the trail that forced everyone to slow down. Once that was done, it was down a short steep hill, back onto the roads. Until we reached the cornfield.
A field should be used loosely here, like the mother of all mud pits! I approached this section and saw hundreds of tire tracks in the ground, but everyone was walking. I tried to ride, but that only lasted a few meters before I was forced to my feet. And promptly sank in the mud up to my ankles. Everybody was "walking" while pushing or dragging their bikes. And incredibly to me, for the first time I can remember, even just walking was enough to cause the mud to clog up the space between my tires, frame and brakes. It was horrible. This lasted about 700m until we reached a gravel trail where everybody had to stop and clear the mud. Nobody was smiling.
But back on the roads and trails, we all did our best to get back into that groove. The next half went smoothly, just gravel roads, the occasional short hill, and some short muddy sections to keep things interesting. By now, everybody was completely covered in mud. Think of those classic photographs of the riders crossing the Roubaix pave on a wet day where you can see the whites of their eyes, and that's about it. That's what most people looked like. Most people were still smiling.
The last third section of the course was the most challenging. A good part of this section was along a rail trail with a gravel surface. Straight and level, easy. But then the course veered off on some side "trails" – more like breaks in the trees – that went downhill and were nothing but slippery mud. Some people rode these, but most opted to walk. I did both, depending on the crowd around me. And this is where I had a small crash – while walking! The mud was so slippery and uneven that I lost my balance and fell on my butt into the mud. At least it was a soft landing. These short sections of trails came out at another road where we'd continue until we turned to another trail. After that, I didn't really care about being dirty, cold or wet anymore; I was focusing on getting to the finish. I had no idea where I was on the map, only that my Garmin showed I had ridden about 55km. Some guy I passed told me the route had been shortened to 65km, so there was only 10km to go. But what a 10km. More mud. More slipping. More hills. I started to see people with disc brake bikes that had lost all their ability to brake – they were sticking their feet out Fred Flintstone style to drag themselves to slow down and stop. Or grabbing trees to do the same. Lucky for them, I guess, the final km of the route was uphill on a rough paved road. The last muddy trench came out at this road, and we could hear some cheering and cowbells telling us we were near the finish. But not without a slog up the steep hill to the line.
Done. My total time for 65km was 2h:50 or so. Slower than I wanted to do, but given the conditions, I'll take it.
Since SISU Racing was formed as a Zwift club, I only chatted with the other members online and have yet to meet them in person. However, we all do real-life riding in addition to Zwift, and this would have been a great chance to meet up. We had hoped to connect after the finish, but I was cold and shivering. I think David said he was a bit hypothermic – once we stopped moving, the cold rain took its toll, and we all just wanted to warm up and get home. So, unfortunately, we didn't get together. But from the posts on our Discord channel, it seemed everyone enjoyed the day despite the conditions.
We'll do it all again next year!
Kev Nelson