With the bolstered numbers I could at least take a breather and somewhat gratefully fell in behind my team mate. The road climbed in fits and starts, nothing too dramatic but by the time we reached the sort of top we’d gained I dunno, two hundred metres altitude? With only one more climb before the finish there was a sort of collective sigh of relief.

I’ve been in stronger breaks, weaker ones too, but with Josh and co hopefully controlling things behind I reckon its got a good chance of success. When I had a look, as the road changed direction, I couldn’t see the main field, they’ve got to be a good minute behind at the very least.

“How far to the feed?” Geth asked as we started the descent back to river.
“Maybe fifteen K?” I suggested, ”you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, probably should’ve picked up more to start with.”
“I’ve got another sarnie,” I offered.
“Don’t you need it?”
“Nah, I always have too much, lets just say I’m over cautious,” I allowed fishing for the slightly squashed food.
“Cheers Gab, don’t want to bonk.”

He was still pushing it into his mouth when he moved up to take his turn on the front.

I sat tightly behind Daz, not shirking when my turn to lead came, even if Paul quickly came past – well there isn’t much of me to help going downhill. Fields were replaced by woodland then we turned onto a long ramp, the river visible at times through the foliage. The lads were co operating nicely, we’ve all got history, all know each others strengths and weaknesses, I’m pretty sure Paul will have a dig on that last big climb, John will wait it out until the sprint.

For now at least everyone seems content to just consolidate where we are at and so we continued with a nice rotation, the comp showing a lot of high thirties and occasional stretches of forty plus as we tracked the river. I stuffed a last bit of flapjack into my onboard power converter and emptied my bidons, down my throat of course, ready to swap out at the feed. The sun was high now, out from the shade, enough to keep a steady trickle of sweat running down into my bra – luvverly!

Through a bit of town and then the board warning a kilometre to the feed zone. I know my pair won’t do anything daft but the other two, who can tell? Degenkolb’s pockets look a bit stuffed, Pauls not so much, doesn’t need a lot, neutral will supply water if need be but not food. I ran some quick calculations, its probably a bit under two hours back from Gmünden, call it two from here, yeah, on this terrain you could get back if you have enough on board.

“Psst!”
“What’s up Gab?” Daz queried.
“Sshh!”
He became more serious and lowered his voice, “wos up?”
“Chemnitz is gonna attack at the feed.”
“How’d you know?”
“Later, close him down if he goes, I’ll get your musette.”
“’kay,” he replied a bit doubtfully, “what then?”
I quickly ran the numbers, “stay with him until you clear this Gmünden place then drop off, no point competing the sprint.”
“Whatever you say Boss lady.”

Indeed the lad from the east was checking us out as we approached the waiting feed teams, yep he’s gonna go. As instructed Daz was watching the tall German who, right on cue, just as we eased to pick out our musettes, made his move. There aren’t any rules against it, I have done it myself in the past, but its generally considered bad form to attack in the feed zone.

Daz was right on him though, seeing what was going on Angela quickly pulled a second bag around for me to collect. Innerthausen was certainly caught on the hop as was Geth, both looked in some panic as the others disappeared up the road.

“Sugar!” Geth spat.
“Just stow your chow, then we can worry,” I suggested.
“Right as always,” Paul agreed.

Of course it took me longer than the others, I had two bags worth to transfer, what the heck do you do with an extra two bidons?

“Here,” Geth instructed taking the first of Daz’s bottles before sitting up and pushing it into the back of his bibs.
“Interesting,” I allowed.
“Saw someone do it in the Tour, useful eh?”
“Two?”
“Why of course madam.”

Paul just shook his head as we reached the drop zone where we lost the empties.

A fair bit of empty tarmac now separated us from the would be escapees, however fairly straight even roads meant they were in clear view. Our remaining trio restarted a rotation, three is better than two, especially when one of the two is riding anchor. We started to close the gap, steadily rather than quickly, why waste resources when the result is inevitable.

At the next village we changed direction quite sharply , just as well, the river was right alongside us again! Then it was a rattle across a level crossing before sweeping left onto the bridge across the Main. Once across we were directed into the Alstadt for the, now inconsequental, mid race prime.

Not sure if Daz did go for it but our trio had a bit of a go, I just edged Paul for third spot – well it would look off if I didn’t try wouldn’t it? I lost sight of them through the twisty town, talk about a convoluted route! Another level crossing then under and a full three sixty to get up onto the bypass, I thought we might spot any chasers but as far as I could see there were none.

On the first long straight Daz returned to view and we quickly overtook him.

“He’s got a right race head on,” he allowed as I decanted food from my pockets to his.
“Four of us now,” I pointed out, “Geth’s got your bottles.”
“Cheers Gab.”
“We chasing or what?” Paul asked as we climbed to cross the railway line again.
“Plenty of time yet,” I grinned before chomping into a banana.
“Guess I can wait,” he confirmed.

We had a steady speed going, the gap to Degenkolb was pretty constant, about thirty seconds by my reckoning. It seemed like no time at all before we started another convoluted bit of route into and through Lohr, where a second prime sprint awaited us.

“Keep it going guys!” Dad encouraged
“Thirty seconds,” Caro added a time check.
“Dig in ‘pollinaris!” Angela shouted, “well done.”

We didn’t actually sprint this time, Paul led us through, me apparently trailing a bit, all part of the game.

Sprint dealt with, town cleared we started a long, well best part of twenty K vaguely downhill run alongside the river. We quickly had our small train going again and strong though he is, the gap to the leader started to drop rapidly. It was clear we were going to catch him, even he must’ve realised that, but instead of steam rollering through I indicated we should hold back, letting him dangle on his own a bit longer.

“Was worth a try,” he opined when we did reach him, still some distance short of the final climb.
“Yup,” I quipped, “just not your day though John.”
“Still a ways to go yet Bond.”
“Indeed.”

Inevitably, after we made the connection our pace dropped off and whilst I reckon we’ve got a good couple or three minutes in hand that could disappear in a blink. Its not like we needed the lad from Chemnitz so I subtely signalled Geth and Daz to up the pace a bit. It wasn’t much but it was enough, for a couple of K he gamely came through but then he finally blew.

Paul looked around, “where’d he go?”
“Overstretched himself?” I suggested.

You could pretty much see the cogs working, three of us, one of him, not great odds.

We left the riverside and started a gradual climb, not anything like the earlier ascent but I could see Paul thinking about it. Instead of a single climb this was a more jiggly affair, several shorter climbs taking us up the hillside. It was on about the third of these that Innerthausen made his move, my turn to chase down.

It wasn’t one of those high octane things, Paul just kept the power on up the incline, Daz wasn’t paying attention, Geth was on his wheel which left me the only one clear to follow. I shuffled a gear and set about closing the gap, perhaps easier said than done on the washboard surface up to Altfeld.

I was on his wheel as we turned off the bypass, I could hear the others not too far back, it wasn’t a surprise when Geth shot past just as the road started to drop back towards the Main. That's my boy! Paul went to follow only to be cut off by Daz following his mate through. We are still a way out but Geth showed down in Spain that he can go the extra mile and if I can delay Paul a bit…

So there we were, four of us going like billy o down the lane, me tucked in tight behind Innerthausen, the others at about twenty metre gaps ahead of us. The road bobbled a bit then a squeal of brakes suggested slowing would be a good move. I moved out for some space through the junction then dipped down the inside as we took a near hairpin before a straight descent down to and back across the river.

Down onto the riverside road, the same one we set out on, what, four hours ago? It wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped to set up but good enough, I managed to slow just enough that Paul was still riding hard, heck so was I, but the others were slowly moving ahead. he’d notice soon enough, I can only hope not too soon.

Under the autobahn, around Bettingen then back to the river, a real drag race to the line. Ten to go, at five Paul went past having realised finally that I wasn’t exactly chasing down my friends. I went to follow but my legs were rubber, hopefully his aren’t much better.

I could do little more than follow on now, I sat up and took a long pull from a bidon, pretty sure I’ve got enough in hand to get fourth and the points to tie up the series. Out of the trees, two K to go, no idea what's going on ahead, oh I could see them but who was who is another thing. My deficit continued to grow, but at this stage I was too spent to be bothered.

One to go, and the distant sounds of the PA system decorated the airwaves, I couldn’t hear the words but the tone was quite exciteable. Then it was over – well for whoever got it, for me I finally came into sight of the finish. I straightened my jersey and readjusted my braid out of the way, well I want to look good in the photos.

I rolled across the line to a good reception, I might not have won overall but I’m still the first girl home.

“Good ride kiddo,” Dad told me as he caught me as I rolled to a halt.
“Who won,” I gasped out before hitting the fresh bottle Dad handed me.
“Geth, the Inerthausen lad just pipped Daz for second.”
“Bum!” I sighed.

The PA burst back into life with a burst of static, the rest of the race was coming in.

There was obviously some excitement with the result, Mand and Lor both finished ahead of Izzy too. looking at the form you’d think BC would have a strong team for both the girls and lads events but none of these are going to Canada. Still, it will have raised my friends mood and give Caro something to beat her bosses with, especially if the new guys fail to perform across the Atlantic.

“Good ride Bond,” Innerthausen offered as we left the stage.
“You too,” I allowed.
“If I didn’t know better I’d’ve thought you were trying to lose today.”
“Lose?” I retorted, “just having a bad day.”
“Hmm, whatever you say, guess I’ll see you at the airport next week then?”
“Airport?”
“You really do give blondes a bad press, you are going to Canada?”
“Er yeah of course, that airport.”

He shook his head and with a wave departed.

“We stopping to eat?” I enquired as Dad and Josh slid the ezy-up back under the camper.
“Its the plan.”
“Cool!” I enthused, “I’ll change then!”
“You already did hen,” Josh pointed out.
“I’m not eating in this stuff,” I replied clambering back up into the Hymer.

Maddy Bell © 20.07.2018