It was a simple enough plan, a bit of misdirection, some waiting on my part, worst case it wouldn’t work but without trying we won’t know eh? The escort ahead of us pulled away in advance of the twists and turns in Wonsheim and I let myself drift off off Josh’s wheel. The Toon is a master at this stuff, we’ve done similar moves before but that's no guarantee of success today, we passed the village sign and he was off.

There was some hesitation, I think the rest expected me to follow suit but that would’ve been a bit obvious for Dad’s devious mind. As soon as it was clear that I wasn’t going anywhere the reaction started, one, two, four set off in pursuit. Innerthausen gave me a curious look before following himself, oh he knew we were up to something but what?

Our depleted group of five followed through the twists and turns of Wonsheim, a group consisting of what I’d picked out as the weakest in the break – oh and me. When I say weakest I don’t mean to be disparaging but these are the less confident, less experienced riders, not lacking in fitness or strength. And I’d already picked out my patsy, I mean Scheinen Ritter, a slight, nervous looking lad riding for some club in Mainz.

Josh and his chasers were out of sight briefly through the turns, when we emerged from the village we were already two hundred metres in arrears. Of course the danger of this move is that my little group get caught from behind so its imperative that I get this lot working and quickly.
Oh the idea isn’t to ride up to the leaders but rather not to lose too much road to them.

“You lot gonna chase or what?”
“Whats the point,” a lad from one of the Frankfurt teams queried, “they’re away now, including your mate.”
“There’s still a lap to go, we could get back on.”
“They’re stronger than us,” Mainz boy suggested.
“Only in their heads, if we don’t do something the bunch’ll swallow us, stay ahead and the prizes go to tenth,” I hinted.
If there’s one thing that motivates teenage boys its avarice.
“She’s right,” another of our party agreed, “come on, they aren’t that far ahead.”

Yes! With the seed planted we were quickly organised in a rotation although this girly was only trying so hard.

“Twenty!” Dad yelled a couple of minutes later as we made our penultimate pass of the line in Wendelsheim.

I was surprised he was already there but they could cut across the middle of the circuit from the feed, still it must’ve been quite a chase in the camper! But twenty, yeah that's okay as long as this lot keep working, the first test of that is barely a kilometre away. It sounds a lot, twenty seconds, but at race speeds its maybe two hundred metres, you can see that far easily most of the time and when I hit the front, sure enough there they were.

I climbed through the bends easily but despite being quite short it was too much for one of our number who blew big style in sight of the top. Well can’t be helped I guess, up ahead Josh’s group shed two riders in similar fashion, that spurred my lot on, we swallowed one who got on but the other wasna going nowhere but backwards.

“That English, he’s a devil!” our new recruit told us.
That's our Josh.
“Devil?” Mainz queried as we reformed our chase.
“He came up that climb in the big ring, never eased at all.”

What can I say?

It wasn’t too obvious but over the next couple of kilometres Josh gradually turned up the screw which in turn meant our little group of chasers had to work harder to stay, however remotely, in touch.

“There’s some riders coming up,” one of our party huffed shortly before we reached the forest.

Dang, I thought we’d have a bit longer. I manouvered myself to be next to Mainz boy.

“You still up for a slice of the pie?”
He gave a shrug, “not gonna have legs for a sprint.”
“If who I think is behind us you’d lose anyway, there’s another way,” I suggested.
“Like what?”
“Give me hand bridging to the front?” I let the idea hang, taking a glug from my bidon.
Give him his due, he did the math quickly, “go on then.”
“The climb out of the next village, be ready.”

I just hope we’ve got that far before Cav and his helpers reach this lot.

I’ll admit to allowing myself a look back on one of the longer straights, yup, Mark was definitely in the chase group, his rainbow jersey is quite distinctive, a pale blue Apollinaris jersey too, Darren? One of the girls? My glance was only enough to gauge their deficit, I reckon about two fifty metres, maybe twenty seconds, this might just work. The rest of our quintet, whilst still racing, seemed to have lost their earlier enthusiasm, maybe ideas of being in a bigger group were clouding their brain cells, it should make my counter move easier to pull off.

We dropped into Oberwiesen, briefly losing sight of our quarry through the centre, the chasers hopefully won’t see my move either. Its not a big climb, the sort of thing that standing on the pedals you can roll up without changing gear, sat you’ll need to play with the levers though. As the others started thinking of gear changes I stood and kept my momentum going, hopefully Mainz is following my lead.

After the initial climb the road dragged upwards, just enough to remind you that we’re still climbing, but the elastic had already snapped. My unwitting helper came through and I gratefully fell on his wheel as he ploughed the tarmac. We had in fact very quickly opened a gap, a furtive look under my arm had us well clear, not a moment too soon, the chasers were about to make contact.

I took my turn on the front, the leaders were still a chunk of road away but hopefully Josh will remember the plan and ‘blow’ on the next drag. Likely not but Innerthausen is the only one likely to twig there’s something going off. Mainz and myself kept at it, not long turns but not through and off either.

And there it was, the figure of Josh sitting up. It’s not really an issue if the others keep going, it’ll take more than Herr Innerthausen to keep them ahead now. Josh however only dropped enough pace to lose the others, we still needed to ride to close the gap to him.

We reached him within the next kilo, he matched his speed to ours and we were three chasing three.

“Alright?”
“Aye man, Innerthausen looked a bit suspicious mind.”
“I’d expect that, t’others?”
“Strong like but if we steam through they shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Cav’s bridged.”
“Fat lot o’ good that’ll do him like,” Josh grinned back.

With the Toon onboard we started to close the remaining gap a little faster, Mainz boy so far unfaltering in his efforts but lets face it, a maybe lower half of top ten to an almost guaranteed top six is a good incentive after all. By the time we dropped out of the forest towards the former feed station we were almost close enough to touch the leaders, behind us Cav’s group seemed to have stalled after catching my former chase companions. All to the good, its under twenty K to the final showdown.

We held off making contact until we exited Gerbach.

“i knew you were up to something,” Innerthausen stated.
“Moi?”
“Gaby Bond, you are always up to something.”
I gave a shrug, “thats why i’m wearing this jersey and your not.”
“Whatever,” he sighed before moving away.

Of course there was a lot more to Dad’s tactical planning, stuff to hopefully give Apollinaris, me specifically the edge in the finale. Josh could most likely have driven the leaders to the finish but he’d be the first to admit to a lack of a sprint. No, getting me to the finish in a small, tired group has much more chance of an Apollinaris victory.

And it was clear that our other companions were on the rivet, Mainz looked to be hanging in by will power, one of the others had that glazed look of near total exhaustion. Out of six that left four to contest the finish, three as Josh won’t go against me. One unknown and Paul, the odds look good.

Resting up wasn’t an option, how many races have been lost by less than a hundred percent commitment? Well a fair few but not by the Bond women, ut uh, I think we’re genetically committed to give our all. The final climb came into view, its under ten kilometres from the top, maybe fifteen minutes effort to the line.

It seemed to take forever to reach the incline and would you believe it, Innerthausen went for a flier. Well I had to react, it was really a bit too soon but it’d be too dangerous to wait. He got about a ten metre drop on me but didn’t gain more before the summit and the plummet to the hairpin.

I lost a few metres on the descent, I guess I give Paul a good ten kilos but I’d rather play catch up than have to drag the extra uphill. The significant thing was that we were now well clear of the others, Innerthausen clearly didn’t want to contest a sprint, on the other hand that’s my preferred scenario. I assumed a speed crouch and set about rejoining him on the gently rolling approach to the end of hostilities.

By Wonsheim and its bends I’d regained enough to not be concerned, but do I wait for the sprint or not? I took a long pull on my bottle then emptied the rest on the road, the remaining fruit in my pockets went the same way, no use to me now. Time to see what the boy’s made of, I slipped down a sprocket and closed the remaining couple of metres.

And kept going, my quarry uttered something impolite when I went past at sufficient distance that he couldn’t flip straight on my wheel. If I wasn’t already I definitely am completely in now, the first inkling of the red mist approaching from the extremes of my vision. Deep breaths Gab, don’t overcook it now.

My advice worked, its all too easy to forget to breath properly at times like this, the mist receded some as I gulped in more air. And there it was, the red kilometre to go board, the town sign board, the marshalls waving flags at the last corner. I moved into the drops, and picked my line to clip the apex, keeping pedalling at full gas.

Two hundred to go, I flicked the gear shift and started my sprint, I’m not taking any chances. The spectators, the MC, both were making a lot of noise, concentrate girl, hundred to go. There was stuff happening behind me, no idea what, no time to give it thought, fifty, twenty five, I thrust an arm in the air as I crossed the line.

“Damn Bond, another fifty,” Cav wheezed as he overtook me as I freewheeled along the street.
“Eh?” I managed. They were that close? Glad I didn’t look.

The official result was two seconds to Cav who had a further three back to the lad in third. So near, so far.

“I’m dead,” Gret complained as she collapsed onto the campers sofa.
“And we’re not?” Tali opined.
“Never thought that last lap was gonna end,” Mand added as she dragged her jersey over her head.
“Mand?” I hinted.
“Eh?”
“Don’t mind me,” Daz groaned from the floor.
“Bum,” Mand allowed, “I forgot we’d got a boy here.”
“What about Josh?” Tal enquired.
“He is a bit big to miss,” Gret chortled.
“While you’re arguing I’m nabbing the shower,” I told them smartly dodging Mands attempt at restraint.

“Well done everyone,” Dad enthused.
“But Cav nearly got Gab like,” Josh observed.
“Nearly but not quite,” I smirked from across the table.
“Even if he had won, you all worked as a team, you all finished, not a bad result.”
“Can we have some wine then?” Manda cheekily asked.
“One glass,” Dad sighed.
“Yes!” Tali and Gret celebrated.
“Why does it feel like I’ve been had?” Dad queried.
“It happens Dave,” Angela mentioned.
“So what are we eating like?”

Trust Josh to be more interested in his stomach than scoring the vino.

Maddy Bell © 7.11.2017