First one home
Brest is a small port city nestled on France’s western coast. Staring out over a large bay of water that flows out into the Celtic Sea, it is a city placed precariously atop the farthest corner of western Europe.
This morning – the eleventh morning of TCRNo.7 – heavy, grey clouds hung over Brest’s heavier, greyer houses. On the beachfront, the water lies motionless but for the half-hearted splash of an occasional lapping wave.
In that early, post-dawn light, the white-washed streets of Brest were empty – except for the lone figure of Fiona Kolbinger, who slowly rolled into a hostel carpark to win the seventh Transcontinental Race.
It must be an odd way to finish a race, and especially a race such as this. Considering the continent-spanning journey that a TCR rider experiences over the course of their ride, freewheeling down into a still-sleeping fishing town must feel like a strangely muted finale.
Step inside the door. Hand over the brevet card – and done. 4,000km of riding, finished with the gentle tap of stamp on paper. Whoever knew that winning the Transcontinental Race could be such an understated affair.
But while the moment might feel understated, everyone standing around that Control Point desk understood the significance of Fiona’s ride. Strong female riders have never been a rarity at the TCR and – in the context of the wider ultra-distance scene where women often outperform their male counterparts – perhaps a female victory has really been long overdue. But that doesn’t make her victory any less significant, or any less needed.
And yet, TCRNo.7 has not only been a blessing, but also a warning.
Fiona’s ride has been incredible to watch. Whether it was seizing the race lead in Austria, edging her gap wider in the Alps, or her relentless drive to the finish in western France, her performance has grown more remarkable day after day. It has garnered attention from all across the world and in the dotwatching community, she inspires total adulation.
But as each day of TCRNo.7 passed by, the heard time and time again that for Fiona, this adulation was becoming overwhelming. As early on in the race as Switzerland, she was stopped or approached by over 40 people during the course of a single day – all while still racing against the clock and on the edge of her physical and mental endurance. While most of these wellwishers had good intentions, some of them quite obviously crossed a line. This is not how the TCR was intended to be raced.
The Transcontinental Race was created for the riders, and for the riders alone. They do not race for our entertainment or our gratification. The TCR is designed to be a personal journey, completed solo, to give riders a taste of true adventure that would otherwise not be available. The more that spectators impose themselves on the riders – no matter how good their intentions – the less possible that adventure becomes.