*Chapter 2*
Racing Away

“Bonn all right?” I queried of de Vreen as I made supper.
"Okay I guess.”
"Only okay? what’d you do?”
"Er pictures?”
"Really? All in German?”
"And your point?”
"Just saying, I didn’t think kids at your school went for the whole native thing.”
"You don’t have to be English or Canadian or whatever to go you know, there are some German kids too.”
"And your friend, whatsisname is German I take it?”
"Might be, what’s with the hundred questions?”
"Nothing, just interested like.”
"Hmm”

The name might be Bond but I'm no good at this information extraction business, I'll have to get Ron on the case tomorrow.

 
"So where is this Königsforst place?” I queried as we rumbled up towards Düsseldorf.
“’Bout ten K east of Kӧln,” Dad supplied, "Should only take us about half an hour from the Grönberg's.”

This’ll be almost the last time we do this, collecting Ron and her mum on the way to a race that is. The end of an era I guess although I don’t suppose Dad’ll mind an extra hour in bed on race days! And of course there’s days like this when we are doing extra distance in the wrong direction – I'm gonna miss coming up to Mettmann.

I read through the race notes for the Königsforst Grand Prix, hmm, four laps, about seventy eight K starting at some place called Forsbach. Dad’s printed off a map, it looks pretty straightforward, not too much hill or corners to worry about. And no series jersey to make me a target either.

Ron and Angela were waiting for us when we arrived thirty minutes later and we were quickly on our way again, back down towards Kӧln.

 
Once at the HQ, the local junior school, us three girls went to sign on whilst the adults sorted out Apollinaris central.

“It’s gonna be weird not doing this,” Ron mentioned as we joined the queue to race.
"You still have to sign on at pro races,” I mentioned.
"Duh!” Mand opined.
“I meant coming to races with you guys,” Ron established, "And Mum not being about.”
"She’ll get to some races though?” Mand suggested.
"A few,” Ron allowed, "You’ll probably see her more than I will.”
"How do you figure that?” I posed.
"Your dad’s asked her to help with this training camp thing.”
"Won’t that be awkward without her driving?” Mand queried.
"She’ll stay at the house most of the time and it’s not that bad to get to on the Bahn.”
"Gaby!” A familiar voice trilled across the room.
"Looks like your number one fan’s racing,” Mand mentioned with a chuckle.
“Barb,” I greeted one half of the double act, "No Fran?”

By now Barbie Friebe had reached us.

"Ladies I think, didn’t expect to see you guys here today.”
"No big race this week,” Ron told our friend.
"Ah,” she nodded.

Back outside the grey morning was even greyer, a fine drizzle damping the ground, Dad had the turbo’s ready under the easy up.

 
‘...Be careful on the turns, especially turn four’ the Commisaire advised, ‘the lane is quite narrow and there is quite a lot of loose gravel. There is neutral service, if the race splits it will follow the lead group, you can take static service here in Feldstraße, there’s a marked zone.’
It was pretty much the usual stuff of course, just wish we can get on, I'm getting wet stood here.

‘The neutral zone ends at the de-limit sign, no racing before please.’

I looked along the line of riders, for some reason this event has attracted quite a few girls. Dunno why, despite the fancy name it’s not much more than a chipper but I guess the flattish parcour is attractive to less able climbers. The familiar Wülfrath and Sporting Düssel jerseys of Fran and Barb beyond Ron and Mand to my right, faces I recognise but don’t know to the left. We were lined up on the school playground, the local emergency services are apparently marshalling the junctions and we were now awaiting our police escort to give the signal to start.

A few cars flashed past the gateway and then a quick siren blast gave the signal and we were waved off.

 
I’m not sure what’s worse, starting in the rain or it starting during a race, the only good thing this morning is that it’s not heavy. Yes the road is wet but you can at least see where you’re going and so far there isn’t much in the way of standing water. We negotiated the gateway and soon gained a bit of speed, I don’t usually like being on the front too much but with that wet - well it’s pretty much the safest place to be.
Our escort cycled his siren again and a damp looking kid waved the green ‘race go’ flag – game on! There was an almost immediate movement of bodies and bikes, one, two, three – in the end seven lads went past. Of course this sort of thing happens a lot at these local level events, been there, done that.

"What do you reckon?” Ron asked.
"Dunno,” I admitted, “could be a ringer in there.”
"They do it every week,” Fran supplied.
"Does it work?”
"Not usually,” Barb filled in.
"Guess we just keep a watch then,” Mand suggested.

The road surface of pressed chippings made it a bit dead besides holding the wet. The escapees quite quickly opened a reasonable gap and it would be easy to panic and waste energy chasing them down. With the intel from Barb and Fran I was happy enough to let them have their heads and it seemed like the rest of the field were content to let the girls in blue set the pace.

We were around the first turn before there was anything like any movement from the rest of the peloton. This time it was a lad in the garish black and yellow strip of RS Düren, a lad I recalled from more than one recent event. Damn we’re gonna have to do something now.
He’d clearly moved up in advance of making a move, I gave the others a look, a nod, a move of the eyes, we had a plan. The road kinked right then as it dipped back to the left Düren boy made his move, we were at least ready, Mand was on his wheel before he was even clear of the front rank. Much like the initial escape this one quickly gained ground but this time there was a chance, albeit small that it could succeed.
The scene was set, a look around the remaining bunch confirmed that any more moves would be quite unlikely.

 
Ahead, the escapees advantage was now holding steady, through the next village we lost sight of both groups temporarily but after the next turn they returned to view. I certainly didn’t want to expend too much energy but sitting at the front of the bunch wasn’t exactly saving energy either. Although it bobbles up and down a bit, the road is arrow straight for about four kilometres, and today it’s four kilometres into the light wind and the rain it’s carrying.

Damn. I quick hand signal to Ron as a warning and I upped the speed from the steady twenty five to something closer to thirty five. Ron came through to share the pace but I was surprised to find about another dozen riders on her wheel including Barb and Fran. Well if they are going to work.

It was pretty, it wasn’t well oiled but from riding steady piano to quick rotation seemed to breathe some energy to affairs and we were now quickly eating into the leaders’ advantage. More importantly from my point of view, I wasn’t doing all the work, oh I was getting sprayed but it was bearable. Somewhere along the straight Düren and Mand overtook the initial break, it was therefore those chancer's we passed shortly before the dodgy turn four.

The narrower lane had a bit of a negative effect on our rotation, some of our number clearly a bit nervy. Behind though there was no longer really a bunch at all, our counter move having been enough to break the rest of the field into a string of smaller groups with single riders hovering between them. The leaders certainly had the advantage along the lanes length but a near hairpin turn five returned us to a wider, better surfaced road.

 
We started to reel Mand and friend in as we gained momentum, the damp breeze on our left shoulders. A couple of our number lost contact as the speed headed up towards forty, I was pleased to see the fan girls still doing their bit. It seemed barely a couple of minutes before we were making the turn into Feldstraße to complete the lap.

Düren boy and Mand returned to the fold outside* the school, three laps to go; hopefully three quieter laps. The group’s speed dropped back again, the general consensus being of job done. Well it works for me, it’s not like there’s a bunch of riders chomping at the collective bit.
Any sense of rotation was soon forgotten so we congealed into an amorphous blob of bikes and riders. The rain increased in intensity which did nothing to encourage action. It did however spark an idea.

 
We slogged around the lap, the wind on that straight causing something of an echelon to form. By the time we exited the lane for a second time the rain had stopped and the remaining band of brothers – and sisters, once again upped the pace. Our number was just about sufficient to ‘get lost’ occasionally, a chance to refuel as well as conserve a bit of energy.

The supporters were more enthusiastic this time through, no doubt buoyed by the let up in the weather’s hostilities. The heavier rain last time around left its own legacy, it might not be really raining but now we had puddles to dodge. Annoying and several times I got a face full of mucky water when a change of course wasn’t possible.

"We staying here all day?” Mand asked as we approached ‘the straight’.
"Wasn’t planning on it.”

She gave me a questioning look.

"Here next time if nothing happens before.”
"Don’t be surprised if that lad that went earlier tries something.”
"Wish he would,” I lamented.

 
We puddle dodged along, the rain holding off for now and there was a bit more enthusiasm within the group. Düren still looked the most likely to do anything worthwhile, I was therefore a little surprised when another lad tried his luck going into the lane – damn. I'd taken my eye off the action for a moment and missed the move, Ron on the other hand was in hot pursuit, Düren on her tail and another lad after him.
Mand set off as soon as she could clear the rest of the bunch leaving me still stranded at the back. Not good, not good at all, keep calm, girl, think. I took a chance as soon as the road straightened a bit, I dropped a sprocket and sprinted along the left hand gutter past the dogged progress of Fran, Barb and the other remaining members of our group.

Well it got me out of the box but the escape was well up the road. Nothing for it I guess, I put my head down and hit the turbo boost button, well I changed down a gear anyway. The others weren’t waiting for me, if I'm gonna get back in contention I'm gonna have to do it on my own.
I didn’t make any real progress until we were back on the downwind leg, my time trialling abilities just about overcoming their superior numbers. It took me all the way back to the HQ to get within touching distance by which time the rain was making another appearance. I gave Mand a dirty look when I finally got into the escape group, two can play at that game.

 
The rain intensified, still quite fine but wind driven forcing sheets of wet across us, as if we weren’t already wet enough. And then it was like the heavens had split, a cloudburst heavy enough to reduce visibility to our escorts red tail light. Yes! I stood up and sprinted forward, as the others were slowing, I was accelerating, I was soon alongside the Polizei motorrad.

As quickly as it started the rain was easing off but I was committed now, as the escort sped up I did my best to hold it. I resumed time trial mode, I reckon it’s about fifteen K to the finish, doable but any real chase could kill my chances. Will the girls work for me or chase me down, well I guess Dad did give us carte blanche today.

I flicked a quick glance under my arm as I turned onto the long straight, I’ve got some good road between us. One good thing is that I can pick my own line around the sizeable puddles, small delight. The key thing now is to not repeat Benrath, to not overreach, yeah I don’t want any kind of repeat of that episode.
 
Maddy Bell © 17.04.17