I read a lot. As a kid, I read James Herriot's books and they left me with a desire to see the beauty of the Yorkshire Dales. Other writers, ranging from William Shakespeare to John McPhee, have conjured images of Scotland that I would like to see first-hand. A short stop in London in 2003, on the way home from Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP), left me impressed with London and interested in a longer visit.

When word drifted through the bike club this spring that Michelle Dulieu and I were going to London-Edinburgh-London, I wasn't opposed to the notion. I wasn't eager for the hassle of training for a major event, flying with a bike, and the associated expense, but without such an impetus I would probably never see parts of the world that I've wanted to see. It was worth the trip.

I have ridden PBP three times and I always tell people that it is the ride to do. The thrilling, terrifying, and exhausting environment with thousands of riders and spectators by the side of the road is unmatched by any other ride.

LEL, by contrast, is collegial, almost intimate. With a few hundred riders, there are plenty of people to talk to, but not so many that I felt jostled. Many countries were represented, but everybody I met spoke intelligible English. Where PBP is frenetic and exciting, LEL is relaxed and fun. I had a wonderful time.

To be sure, LEL is exotic enough that you wouldn't confuse it with an American brevet. The roads are different, the road signs are different, the food is different, and the language, despite being English, is different.

First we had to grapple with the English driving on the left side of the road. Most people probably think they look both ways before they cross a road; people who have visited England know they really don't. Even after getting used to riding on the left, lots of other obstacles remain. It is shockingly easy to go through the many roundabouts the wrong way. And it is startling to try to make eye contact with the driver of an oncoming car when the driver's seat is occupied by a dog.

English food is, according to stereotype, stolid and dull. I found I liked it (you are what you eat, I guess), but it took some getting used to. Some of the meals were recognizable, just not familiar to an American. Beans on toast, for example, is exactly what it sounds like and is commonly available for breakfast. Some dishes, such as steak and kidney pie, taste just fine if you don't think too much about them. Other foods, such as "spotted dick" or "toad in the hole", sure don't sound like something people would eat. At least not deliberately.

The language barrier cropped up on the road as well. "Car up" means a car is coming from behind, the opposite of our American usage. The warning for a car ahead of us is "car down", which made no sense at all to me. My warning of "car back" doesn't seem to be part of the British cyclist's vocabulary.

These cultural differences spiced up the experience rather than detracting from it. Randonneuring is about more than riding the distance. Navigation, nutrition, and adapting to the local culture are all part of the challenge that sets randonneuring apart from other types of riding. Alas, navigation proved to be our undoing.

The ride started well. We rolled out of Cheshunt, a London suburb, at the civilized hour of 9 a.m. - a nice change from PBP and many American brevets. The weather was pleasant and there were other riders around to keep us on the route and on the left side of the road without undue mental strain. We rode with the group and chatted with other riders to the first checkpoint without incident.

I realized that navigating could be difficult in the early afternoon. I was stopped at an intersection waiting to turn left, when a couple of riders came along from the right. Clearly we hadn't all followed the correct route, but since we agreed on the direction forward there was no reason to dwell on the past.

As the day wore on the cue sheet seemed good, the road signs appeared accurate, but somehow we couldn't seem to keep on the route. Late on the first night Michelle and I got completely lost and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to get back on the route. By the time we recovered, it was 3 a.m., we had ridden an extra 50 kilometers, and we were almost overdue at the next control.

We didn't get lost after that first night. We were getting accustomed to the cue sheet and the road signs, and it helped that were are fewer roads to choose from on the northern part of the route. We went from control to control, barely keeping ahead of the closing times, all the way to the turnaround at Dalkeith, on the edge of Edinburgh.

The controls were either community/sports centers or hostels. The first riders to a hostel enjoyed hot showers and beds to sleep in; later riders got warm showers and floor space. The community centers offered mats or blankets on the floor and had no showers. Enterprising randonneurs found out-of-the-way crannies to sleep where they would not be stepped on or otherwise disturbed.

All of the controls had food available on to purchase. A few pounds ($5-$10) were sufficient to buy all I wanted to eat and carry with me at each stop. Meals consisted of pasta, fruit, pasties (small meat pies), and the ubiquitous pots of tea. The controls also featured cheerful and helpful volunteers. In contrast to PBP, LEL is small enough that there are no lines and the staff takes the time to deal with individual riders on a personal basis.

The roads between the controls were some of the narrowest and most scenic roads I have ever ridden, especially in the north. We rode occasionally on main roads, but for the most part the roads were for cycling. The ride preview warned that British motorists are not friendly to cyclists, but I found most to be quite accommodating. Some of the roads were so narrow that it was difficult for a car and a bike to pass each other; I don't know how two cars could pass. There was so little traffic that the situation didn't come up very often.

All of the route descriptions I read before the ride agreed that the first 300 or so kilometers are basically flat, then you get into the "lumpy bits". Since I didn't find that description very illuminating, I tried pumping other riders for more details. What is the northern part of the route like? Lumpy. Big or little lumps? Mmmm, yes. What gears do people use? It depends. I finally gave up, and figured I would find out for myself.

And I did. By the middle of the second day we were in the Howardian Hills, which are definitely lumpy. Then the Pennines, then the Scottish Borders. Some of the lumps were short and steep, gelling the knees like the Finger Lakes of New York. Others went on for many kilometers at a gradual but energy-sapping grade, reminiscent of the American West.

Through it all, the scenery was stunning. We rode for hours past cultivated fields and pasture, punctuated occasionally by tiny villages. We cycled along stretches of open range, where sheep wandered at will across the road and (usually) jumped out of the way when they heard us coming. The sheep added to the excitement of night descents. The fields are separated by miles of stone walls, which run along the roads as well as up and down the hills. The amount of work required to build those walls boggles my mind, but they certainly we re a beautiful sight.

The lumpy bits took a toll on us, especially after we got very little sleep on that first night. We made it to the turnaround in Dalkeith on the evening of the second day, just as the control was closing down. We set out on the return but had to stop for a nap before reaching the next control. By the time we got there, the control had been closed for several hours and we were listed as DNF.

London-Edinburgh-London was not a success for me, but it was a great adventure. We rode through beautiful countryside, met a lot of great people, and had a lot of fun. If you like very challenging rides without the frenetic atmosphere of PBP, ride this event. I offer a few points to consider if you want to enter LEL in 2009:

• At 1400 kilometers, LEL is considerably longer than PBP. With a cutoff time of 118 hours, the required minimum speed is slightly lower and so some find it easier than a 1200 km event.
• Be careful navigating. The cue sheet and road signs are pretty good, but not perfect. There are no arrows to indicate the route as there are at PBP.
• Be prepared to ride from one control to the next, usually about 50 miles, without getting food or water. There are very long stretches where there are no shops or restaurants, even during the day.
• Be prepared for cool and rainy weather. We were lucky and had just one night of rain. Temperatures were in the 45-75 F° range, much cooler than lots of Americans are used to in summer. Fenders were not universal but were very common.

Complete results: London-Edinburgh-London website