The Women's Wave: Cadence Collective Rides PBP 2027

Guest

Absolutely. And it's wild to think that Cadence started as, well, basically a Facebook group for women over forty-five who loved long-distance cycling. Now? They're shaping the starting grid of the toughest bike event on the planet. I mean, who saw that coming?

Guest

Um, it was born out of a very specific kind of loneliness, actually. You'd have these incredible women—mothers, executives, retirees—who'd ride centuries on weekends, but they'd never see anyone like themselves at the big brevets. The ultra scene was, and still is in many ways, dominated by younger men. So Cadence became this digital campfire. They'd share training tips, yes, but also talk about menopause and saddle sores and how to convince your partner that a 400K is a reasonable Saturday plan.

Guest

Oh, it exploded. Within a couple of years, they had local chapters on four continents. They started organizing their own training camps, then full-on ultra races. The Cadence Collective 600K in Colorado? Sold out in hours. And the genius was, they weren't just creating events; they were creating a pipeline. Women who'd never dreamed of PBP suddenly had a community saying, 'You can do this. We'll show you how.'

Guest

It's a classic case of 'if you build it, they will come,' but with a twist. The Audax Club Parisien, they saw the numbers. In 2023, the women's wave had a higher completion rate than the general field. And the feedback was phenomenal—riders talked about the emotional safety, the shared pacing, the absence of that, you know, aggressive testosterone-fueled start. So when they started planning 2027, they reached out to Cadence almost immediately. Not just for promotion, but for design. Cadence is helping shape the wave's support structure, the pre-ride mentorship program.

Guest

I hear that argument, and I think it comes from a good place. But here's the thing: equality doesn't always mean identical treatment. For decades, women have been a tiny minority in these events, often facing subtle—and not so subtle—barriers. A dedicated wave isn't segregation; it's an on-ramp. It creates a space where women, especially older women, can find their rhythm without being dropped immediately by a peloton of guys who've been racing since they were teenagers. And the data backs it up: after the 2023 wave, we saw a thirty percent increase in women registering for other ultra events. It's a gateway, not a ghetto.

Guest

Oh, it's the sweet spot! You've got life experience, you've got patience, and—this is key—you've got a different relationship with suffering. A twenty-five-year-old might try to muscle through a 300K on raw power. A fifty-year-old knows how to pace, how to eat, how to manage discomfort. Plus, let's be honest, many of these women are empty-nesters or at a career stage where they can finally prioritize themselves. Cadence tapped into this massive, underserved reservoir of endurance. And the stories! I met a rider, sixty-two, who'd survived breast cancer and decided PBP was her 'I'm still here' ride. She finished in eighty-seven hours, smiling.

Guest

Picture this: Rambouillet, late August, just before dusk. Instead of the usual chaotic mass start with thousands of blinking lights, you have a field of about three hundred women, all rolling out together. There's a quiet intensity. No shouting, no jostling. They've trained together online, many have met at Cadence camps. They know each other's strengths. Some will form pace lines, others will ride solo, but there's this unspoken pact: we look out for each other. The first night, through the rolling hills of Brittany, you'll see clusters of red taillights, and you'll hear laughter. Laughter at 3 a.m. on a 400K ride. That's the Cadence effect.

Guest

That's where the online roots become a superpower. Cadence has these virtual 'dark room' sessions—video calls where experienced riders walk newbies through their worst moments. They share strategies: the fifteen-minute power nap in a bus shelter, the magic of mashed potatoes at a contrôle, the mantra 'just get to the next tree.' And they normalize the struggle. One rider told me, 'I used to think I was weak because I cried on a brevet. Then I learned that everyone cries. It's just part of the process.' That kind of honesty is gold.

Guest

It's a full ecosystem. Their events—like the 'Midlife Mileage' series—are designed as qualifiers and confidence-builders. They're not just races; they're rolling workshops. You'll have a 600K where the first hundred kilometers include a clinic on night riding, and the last hundred have a volunteer sag wagon with a menopause-friendly snack menu. By the time a Cadence rider gets to PBP, she's done a dozen events where she was supported, not just tolerated. She knows her bike, her body, her mind. And she knows she belongs.

Guest

Yes, that's a beautiful addition. Every first-time PBP rider in Wave F will be paired with a veteran from the 2023 wave. They'll train together remotely, share data files, and the veteran will be at a couple of key contrôles to offer a hug, a spare tube, or just a knowing look. It's like a big sister program for ultra-cycling. And it's already reducing the dropout rate in training rides. The psychological safety net is as important as the physical one.

Guest

Absolutely. There's now a 'Cadence Junior' for women under forty-five who want that same supportive environment. And other demographics are taking note—there's a group for dads over fifty, another for non-binary riders. The core insight—that community is the ultimate performance enhancer—is universal. But Cadence was the pioneer. They proved that when you create a space where people feel seen, they'll attempt things they never thought possible. The 2027 PBP women's wave is just the most visible tip of that iceberg.

Guest

Well, the general field often sees a lot of early aggression—riders trying to bank time before the hills. In the women's wave, the philosophy is 'steady wins the race.' They emphasize negative splits. The first 200K to Villaines-la-Juhel is treated almost as a warm-up. They conserve energy for the Roc'h Trevezel climb at night, which is where many riders crack. And because they're in a wave with similar pacing, they can work together. A group of four or five women rotating through a headwind is far more efficient than a solo rider fighting alone.

Guest

Oh, the sleep monsters are real. I've heard stories of riders seeing giant rabbits on the road. But here's where the Cadence training shines. They practice sleep deprivation on their 400K and 600K qualifiers. They learn to recognize the signs and to take micro-sleeps safely. And in the wave, they have a buddy system—if you see a rider weaving, you gently suggest a fifteen-minute nap at the next contrôle. No ego, just care. That culture of mutual support is what gets people to Brest and back.

Guest

The goal is ninety percent. In 2023, the women's wave hit about eighty-eight percent, compared to the overall event's seventy-five. With the sister rider program and two more years of Cadence's training infrastructure, I think ninety is achievable. But more importantly, they're measuring 'transformational finishes'—riders who say the experience changed their lives. That number is already off the charts.

Guest

It's profound. I've talked to women who, after PBP, quit jobs they hated, left unfulfilling relationships, started businesses. There's something about pushing your body and mind to that extreme that recalibrates your sense of what's possible. One rider told me, 'If I can ride through the night in the rain with a screaming knee, I can certainly ask for that raise.' The confidence bleeds into everything. And the Cadence network supports that transition too—they have career coaching, book clubs, all built on the trust forged on the road.

Guest

It's simpler than you think. Just find the Cadence Collective online—they're on all the platforms. Join the group, introduce yourself. You'll be flooded with welcome messages. Then, sign up for a local 200K brevet. Cadence has ambassadors in almost every region who will ride with you. They have a 'Couch to 200K' plan that's free. The key is to start small, build gradually, and lean on the community. By 2027, you could be on that start line in Rambouillet, surrounded by three hundred women who were once exactly where you are now.

Guest

Absolutely. They have a whole 'Bike Fit for the Long Haul' series. Women often have different saddle needs, different reach requirements. Cadence partners with female bike fitters who understand that a fifty-year-old woman's flexibility and comfort priorities are not the same as a twenty-year-old racer's. They also have a gear swap program—because let's face it, ultra-cycling is expensive. You can borrow a dyno hub wheel or a set of bikepacking bags from the collective's library. It removes the financial barrier for many.

Guest

This is where Cadence is truly pioneering. They have sports nutritionists who specialize in menopausal athletes. The old 'gels and bars every hour' advice often fails for women in their fifties. They need more real food, more protein, different electrolyte balances. Cadence has developed their own line of ride snacks—things like savory rice cakes with miso, or date-and-nut bites with a pinch of salt. They've done webinars with thousands of women, collecting data on what works. It's science, but it's also deeply personal.

Guest

It's shattering stereotypes. The dominant image of an ultra-cyclist is still a lean, young man. But now you're seeing photos of women with gray hair and crow's feet, covered in road grime, grinning at the finish. That image is powerful. It tells women of all ages that adventure doesn't have an expiration date. I've had women in their seventies tell me they bought their first road bike because of a Cadence rider's Instagram post. The ripple effect is generational.

Guest

Mostly with huge support, actually. Many male riders have wives or partners in Cadence, and they see the transformation. Some have become the best allies—volunteering at controls, driving support vehicles. There's a growing recognition that a more diverse peloton makes the sport richer. Sure, there are a few grumblers online, but they're increasingly drowned out by the sheer positivity. And let's be honest, when a sixty-year-old grandma drops you on a climb, it's a humbling experience that's good for the soul.

Guest

Oh, they're just getting started. They want to have a women's wave at every major ultra event—the Trans Am Bike Race, the Race Across America, you name it. They're also launching a foundation to fund scholarships for women from underrepresented communities. The ultimate goal is to make the start line of any ultra race look like the world we live in. And they're building a global network of 'Cadence Houses'—physical spaces where traveling cyclists can stay, shower, and share stories. It's a movement, not a moment.

Guest

There's a rider named Elena. She joined Cadence at fifty-eight, never having ridden more than fifty miles. She was a retired schoolteacher, widowed, and she told me she felt invisible. She trained for three years, did the 2023 women's wave, and finished with thirty minutes to spare. At the finish, her daughter and granddaughter were there. Her granddaughter, who was twelve, said, 'Grandma, I want to be just like you.' That's it, right there. That's the whole point. It's not about the bike. It's about showing the next generation what's possible.