*Chapter 1*
Bad Reception
“Drew? A word?” Caro requested as I waited to board the bus to go to the reception.
Josh said he wouldn’t tell anyone.
“Don’t tell anyone, please?” I begged.
“Wotcha take me fer like? Ah was just saying like.”
“Thanks Josh.”
“No sweat man but I wish you’d make yer mind up like, ah canna keep up with ya swapping all tha time.”
“Er what’s up?” I enquired.
“Who said there was anything the matter?”
“Well…”
“Just winding you up kiddo, you’ve not done anything – yet and I want to keep it that way. I spoke to the others earlier but you were er modelling?” she raised an eyebrow.
“You saw.” My heart sank.
“Saw?”
“On the telly half an hour ago?”
“No, you’re Dad told me.”
“I didn’t mean to, I got sort of Shanghaied into it.” I defended.
“Fun?”
“Well yeah, Tali was there too, we had quite a blast!” I admitted. “I’m not in trouble for that am I?”
“A potential complication but we’ll cross that bridge when, no, if we get to it. No it’s this reception.”
“What about it? I thought it was like grub and mingling?”
“It is, disco, good food – the whole nine yards, the Swiss are renowned for their hospitality. That’s the problem, we want you ready to race in the morning not be nursing sore feet and heavy legs from dancing and over indulging.”
“So we do the penitent nun bit then?”
‘Jeez – he really is more girl than boy, the other lads might have said monk but not nun’ Caro observed. “No, not at all but we do want you to behave sensibly, a quick shimmy’s fine, eat sensibly – I’m under orders to er, step in if anyone gets a bit too enthusiastic. Mingle with the other teams by all means but I, we don’t want any ‘relationships’ developing?”
“As if!” I snorted.
“You okay with all that then?”
“Sure, its not like I’m a party animal is it?”
“I suppose not Drew, I suppose not.” You might not be Drew but from what your father tells me Gaby certainly can be! “Come on then, lets get going.”
Whilst these reception things claim to be for the competitors they’re really a thinly disguised smoke screen for a shindig for the sponsors and organisers. So okay, there might be a bit of handshaking and photo taking but really we’re there as window dressing. Tonight wouldn’t be any different, Caro’s right; it’s not an impression tonight that counts, its out on the road tomorrow that matters.
We weren’t the first team to arrive, neither were we the last, so we had to wait our turn to ‘meet’ the sponsors or rather the selected individuals representing them. The reception line was impressive, a couple of blokes and a woman with I guess mayoral chains, a handful of suits and some military type or I guess he could’ve been police.
“Grosser Britannien!” the flunky announced and we followed the big boss along the line.
Apparently ‘he’ needed to be introduced to everyone, the rest of us just meekly shook hands.
When we cleared the line my heart sank – there on an easel by the door was a picture of a girl with a bike, taken today, please no one recognise me.
“Great.” I sighed.
“What?” Mand enquired over my shoulder. “Oh,” she finished spotting the lithograph.
“Indeed.” I agreed.
“No ones gonna recognise you here, it’s a coincidence they found a model who looks a bit like you eh?”
“Coincidence.” I repeated.
“Come on you two, we need to find our table.” Steve chivvied.
Of course before we could eat we had to have the speeches, introductions and so on. That meant speeches from each of the individuals we ‘met’ at the entrance interspersed with stuff from the race director. The fact it was all in Swiss German meant I had to suffer the bad puns and platitudes that my team mates couldn’t understand, well I think Dad and Josh followed most of it, the rest however just clapped when everyone else did.
At long last the food was announced, my stomach was approaching rumble stage after not eating a great deal earlier.
“Smells good.” Claire noted as the waitress ladled soup into her bowl.
“Cauliflower.” I offered.
“Cauliflower soup?” Darren queried.
“Sure.” I shrugged as my own portion was delivered, “danke.”
“Bitte,” acknowledged.
“Doesn’t look like cauliflower.” Jamie mentioned, pushing his bowls contents around with his spoon.
“Well duh, its creamed. Try it.” I pointed out.
“Yeah stop whining Jame, it tastes better than that onion soup the other day.” Sal proposed.
“Ah wisna complaining.” The big scot stated.
Personally I like cauli soup, bit of salt and pepper, tasty. Of course there’s never enough bread at these do’s but there again you don’t want to load up so early in the meal so perhaps it’s intentional. It didn’t take long to drain our bowls and people’s attention turned to the next course on the table menus.
“What’s next Drew?” Mand asked.
I guess as the most proficient German speaker it’s inevitable I get to be the translator.
“Lets see then.”
The menu was passed along to me.
“Landwirtsrösti mit salat, well röstii is like fried potato so it translates as farmers röstii.”
“What’s that then?” Laura queried.
“No idea, I’m guessing that there’s something with it, no sure what though.” I admitted.
Our curiosity was answered in short measure as a skillet was placed in front of each of us containing the next course. We all poked at the assemblage, röstii sure, topped with a fried egg but accompanied by a gherkin, a long sliver of carrot and a weird white veggie that I couldn’t identify. The röstii wasn’t your usual potato and onion mix, no there were bits of bacon too adding the otherwise missing meat content. The whole thing was topped with a sprig of something and a few blue flower petals – artistic and lost on most of the diners.
Well it looked allright, smelt okay and despite the soup my stomach gave a rumble so I dived in. the description doesn’t really do the food justice, you wouldn’t need to be a master chef to rustle it up but it was tasty although I’m not a big fan of gherkins and I’ve still got no idea what the white vegetable was but it tasted okay. After a little reticence on the others parts, they too did a locust job on the food.
“Bleh, I’m stuffed!” Sal announced.
“Best egg and bacon I’ve had in a while.” Mechanic Darren offered from across the table – each team occupied a large circular table.
“Maybe a bit much for brekkie like.” Josh put in as our waitress collected the skillets from the now much quieter diners.
“What’s for pud Drew?” Mark asked.
“Pudding?” Claire echoed.
“No pud,” I told them after scanning the card again, “cheese board and coffee it says.”
“Damn, coulda done some ice cream.” Mark lamented.
“Think I’ll pass on the cheese.” Laura stated.
“Wonder if I can get tea instead of coffee?” Claire mused.
“I can ask.” I offered.
With typical Swiss precision the cheese boards arrived – hmm Gruyere, Tilsiter, Gorgonzola I think, that hard one looks like Appenzeller, Emmental of course. Not just cheese, crackers of course but slices of apple and pear and some well juicy grapes.
“Café?” the waitress enquired.
“Danke,” I offered and continuing in German, “is it possible to have tea instead?”
“For sure fraulein, for how many?” grrr.
“How many for tea?” I asked of the table.
A show of hands made five.
“Five please, danke.”
“Keine problem fraulein.” She offered with a wink as she departed to organise the brew.
“What was that about Drew?” Mand queried.
“Er nothing.”
Sugar, if she thinks I’m a girl others probably will and that means my chances of being recognised as the poster girl outside are quite high.
“Oh come on Drew, that look on your face.” She pressed.
“Honest, its nothing really, tell you later.” If things don’t blow up of course.
“If you say so.” Convinced she wasn’t.
“Youse gonna hog all that cheese Drew man?” Josh broke in.
“Might do.”
“Well you can fetch yer own bottles tomorra then.” Josh riposted.
“You tell ‘im.” Mark added with a grin.
“In that case I suppose you can have some, but keep off the Gorgonzola!”
“Eww!” Laura squealed.
“Everything okay over there?” Dad asked from across the table.
“Aye Mr Bond,“ Jamie replied, “just wresting tha cheese from tha son.”
“Drew, let go of the cheese board.” Dad instructed.
“Aww.” I pretended to complain.
“Thé?” our waitress enquired returning with a tray of cups and pots of hot beverage, effectively cut the banter short.
With the food over, coffee or tea finished with we were efficiently evicted from our seats to await the evenings musical entertainment – a dads disco, joy! The adults sensibly headed to the bar area – I’m sure they won’t be hitting the bottle but it would be more peaceful than our confinement area. Like so many flocks of sheep each squad huddled together, all unwilling to be cut from the flock.
“Hey Ron!” for the first time tonight I spotted the German team.
“Drew!”
Taking the lead she led her squad towards the ‘old enemy’.
Of course the lads hadn’t met any of the Germans, the girls had met my teamies but not the lads who followed in their wake.
“Bondt.” Stefan Töller noted.
“Töller.” I offered a hand, the respect was mutual, we’ve raced the same events several times so we both knew the low down on the other.
The rest of the German lads joined us, Hans Brondby, Eric Torfhaus, another couple I knew by sight and a gangling youth that I’m guessing is the mysterious Paul Innerthausen Tali mentioned earlier.
“The famous Drew Bond.” He stated in only slightly accented English.
Apparently I’m famous now, just what I need!
© Maddy Bell 02.01.14
*Chapter 2*
And They’re Off!
“Er…” I offered.
“Ach sorry, Innerthausen, Paul Innerthausen.”
“Tali was um, telling me you were riding.” How much of a doofus does that make me sound?
“Mark, everyone calls me Cav though.” Mr C offered his hand. “I think we crossed wheels in Poland last spring.”
“Of course, you are the sprinter no?”
“That’s me.” Cav grinned.
Temporarily forgotten I did the introduction thing for the others and after a few minutes everyone was laughing and joking like old friends.
Claire tugged at my sleeve, “do you think this is alright? Caroline did say we weren’t to get too friendly with the other teams.”
“I think she meant getting, you know friendly. I know most of this lot anyway so we’re only talking to my friends and team mates.”
“I guess.” She allowed.
Paul at some point managed to separate me from the others.
“I imagined you to be bigger Fraulein Bond, Thalia makes you sound like a giant.” He mentioned in German.
“Erm.” Full of chat me.
“I look forward to racing against you, the others all look to you as some sort of cycling goddess.”
“They do?” fame and now deity.
“How could it not be so, you get others to do the hard work, distribute gifts then are embarrassed by your success – and of course everyone I know fancies you.”
Eek! “Everyone?”
“Well the lads at least.” He amended.
“This race, it is new territory ja?”
“I guess.”
“The other teams, they do not like us, they will work against us.”
“They will?”
“I am certain, we are cast as the bad guys, you English they think are second rate.”
“That’s not very fair.”
“Its not, you have some influence on your team I think?”
“A bit I guess.”
“Perhaps we can help each other out – not be too hostile on the road?”
“That’s not allowed is it?”
“Maybe, maybe not, who is to say? In the race we perhaps look for any friends we can.”
I can’t argue with that, I’ve done that, agreed a sort of truce more than once but this is on a different level.
“So you suggesting we team up?”
“Nothing so formal, only perhaps we don’t try so hard to work against each other? Think about it eh?”
The conversation was interrupted by Manda, “Drew, you fancy a quick boogie?”
“Er sure,” I turned back to Paul, “seems the dance floor beckons.”
“Mädchen! Think about what I said.”
“I will, nice meeting you.”
“So what was all that about Bond?” Mand enquired as we joined the cast of dozens on the dance floor.
“Not a lot.”
“Looked like he was trying to chat you up.” She offered.
“Not me exactly.”
“What do you mean, not you?”
“Well he thinks maybe our two teams could perhaps help each other out a bit, he reckons the others will be ganging up on us.”
“Is that allowed?”
“Not officially but how do you prove it?” I pointed out.
“So what’d you say?”
“Nothing really, he might be right, he might not.”
“We shouldn’t mention it to the others, not yet anyhow.” Mand pronounced, I couldn’t disagree.
“See how it goes tomorrow I guess.”
I think we were the first to leave the do shortly after ten, if we are being serious about things partying to whenever the night before is a bit daft.
“Everyone have a good time?” Caro enquired as Steve headed us back towards our accommodation.
“Interesting.” Geth offered.
“Is it always like this?” Laura asked, “not that I’m complaining.”
“Not always, this is one of the bigger events on the circuit, invites can be hard to get, we’ve not had a team here for over ten years.”
“Sugar.” I allowed.
“Took a bit of wangling I’ll tell you.” Steve added.
“Best show ‘em what they’ve been missing then.” Mark opined.
“Oh they know Mark, it was your and Drew’s results that got us in!”
Nothing like a bit of pressure then.
“Shitza!” I noted.
“Everyone okay?” Dave enquired as we waited to be called to the start of Stage One.
I’m pretty sure everyone was a bit nervous, it’s all right riding in domestic stuff but full blown international stuff – well it’s a different matter. So okay, maybe a few of us with more experience were less nervous but still, my stomach at least was doing somersaults.
“Remember what I said earlier, believing that you should be out there is half the battle – don’t cower at the back, look to Drew and Mark for direction, our main concern today is getting everyone to the finish within the time limit.”
“Time limit?” Darren queried.
“Yes Darren, they will set a cut off based on the winners time, it’s usually a percentage of the time. As this is a mixed event there will be a male and female cut off – they can decide to ignore it if it eliminates too many riders but don’t count on that. Mark, Drew, you both okay with the plan?”
Tough luck if we’re not I guess, essentially I get to marshal the troops and Cav rides his own race, if it gets to a sprint we both get to give it a go but we don’t race each other – as if that’s likely to happen.
We both nodded our agreement.
‘Gross Britannien!’ The PA announced.
“Good luck, be safe.” Director Brailsford told us as we started the short ride to join the rest of the peloton.
Once lined up I let Mark do the final pep talk, “remember, no heroics but lets show this lot what we’ve got, safe ride everyone.”
Everyone mumbled agreement and then it was game on, a bit of chat over the PA then ‘attention, funf, vier, drei, zwei, eins, allez!’ the Helvetia Cup was underway. Being rated only just above the tarmac we were starting at the back of the pack, some 120 riders in all – the neutral zone out onto the main lakeside road at least gave a chance to move up a few places. Mark, with Josh and Jamie in tow were up in the first half of the race by the time the flag dropped to start us properly outside the Verkehrshaus.
For me, the most disturbing thing was that every flippin’ lamppost had a copy of that damned poster on it – how’d they do that so quick? Today’s route, essentially a big loop to Schwyz and back would be a constant reminder that I’d been conned into being Gaby yesterday afternoon, that damned poster was everywhere!
Although the stage is officially classed as flat with only one climb rating KOM points at about eighty five kilometres. However the first climb was soon taking us away from Lake Luzern and as you might expect a couple of chancers made the first attack less than five kilometres from the depart. With such a big bunch, all reasonably fresh the move was pretty much doomed although it did show up the level of some of the girls taking part.
At least all our crew were still in the pack, even if it was towards the back – I looked for Roni and co, as I’d hope they were mixing it with the mid pack riders. So okay they are supposed to be the enemy but they are still my teamies right?
The wide rolling road across to Küssnacht soon had us bowling along at a reasonable forty kph – fast enough to make escape difficult from the front and just as difficult to rejoin if you are off the back. By the time we transited the town Team GB were all safely mid field with Mark and his deputies sat in the front twenty, a place I was itching to be. Orders are orders; my chance will come – perhaps today but certainly tomorrow.
Zugersee hove into view as we dropped under the autobahn and I realised that we’d been here on our training ride yesterday. Apart from the half hearted attack on that first climb no one seemed particularly interested in racing which at least meant the work load was light. The morning cloud was quickly receding, the forecast mentioned thirty degrees later on – at least our time in Italy has let us acclimatise somewhat.
We were almost an hour in, approaching Cham when the first of the day’s crashes occurred. I didn’t see it happen, no doubt someone clipped a wheel and in seconds twenty riders were on the deck including yours truly. Sugar!
“You okay Drew?” Claire asked, grabbing my bike as I got to my feet.
“Think so, anyone else down?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Lets get going then.” I suggested.
Hopefully nothings happened up front, we’ve got best part of a minute to get back and no bunch as such to help us.
“Drew!”
“Ron, you go down?”
“Ja, share the effort?”
“You bet.” I grinned, now things’ll start moving.
With riders strewn up the road it was relatively easy to bridge the gaps, the three of us sharing the pace – so okay Ron and I did the lions share but Claire wasn’t slacking. We caught up to Darren who had latched onto Stefan and Hans – we might not have planned it but it seems that we are drawn to each other. By the time we reached Zug our little group had grown to about thirty riders, the main peloton in sight but still perhaps fifteen seconds ahead.
A quick check suggested the other girls were up ahead, I couldn’t be sure but I’m certain that I spotted Mand’s white tresses a moment ago.
“What do you reckon Drew?” Daz asked.
“Its pretty flat for the next leg, no point in wasting energy, they aren’t far ahead.”
“Stay up front though eh?”
“Out of trouble.”
“Sure.”
As we turned to follow the lake southward I looked out over the sparkling waters – you don’t get views like this in blighty, blue skies, mountains, busy lakes, yeah, well cool.
“Shitza!”
“What’s up?” Claire asked.
“Flat.” I sighed – all I need. I thrust my arm skyward and steered towards the curb.
“Should I wait?” Claire suggested.
“No keep going but tell Daz.”
“Kay.”
I hope he takes the hint.
© Maddy Bell 03.01.14
*Chapter 3*
Flat Out
By the time Dad and Mike got to me I’d got the back wheel out and was waiting impatiently.
“Early doors.” Mike mentioned as he slotted in the replacement.
“Yeah.” I sighed.
I quickly mounted up and with a shove from Mike was back on the road.
“Bond!” a voice called out causing me to look round, I reckonised the grinning countenance in the red, black and yellow strip, Michael Desgrange. You remember Michael from the Dreilander Jüngere Grand Prix back in the early summer?
“Michael didn’t know you were here.” I mentioned as he rode up to me.
“Saw you last night but you were with your friends, nice poster by the way.”
Joy – if Michael can recognise me how many others will?
“Whatever, you get caught in the crash?”
“Yeah,” he lamented, “mangled my front wheel, you?”
“No damage but I just punctured.”
“We’d best get up to the action.”
“Yeah.” I agreed.
With that mutual agreement to work together we started a bit of a rotation, when a little further on we caught up to Daz we were set to get back to the main field.
The road pretty much hugs the lakeside with the railway pacing alongside on the landward side. It wasn’t exactly flat but the changes in altitude were relatively small and by Walchwil the tail end of the peloton was in view, the flashing light of the lead car further ahead but not dramatically so.
“Looks like us.” Michael offered.
“Yeah I agreed.”
“Take care Drew.”
“And you.” I agreed as we eased into the back of the crowd.
“You know that lad?” Daz enquired.
“Yeah, beat him in a race earlier in the year, he’s pretty hard core, worth keeping an eye on.” I observed.
“Bond!”
I’m gonna change my name.
“Yo!” I allowed as Mark dropped back to us.
“Claire said you’d flatted.”
“Yeah, so what’s the score?”
“The others are up front, there’s a small break, couple of Swiss, a Frog and some other kid, not going anywhere, they’ve had ten seconds for the last ten k.”
“What do you reckon, about two hours at this pace.”
“No real climbs until that Weggis place, I reckon we hold off on doing anything till then – unless someone else does.”
“There is that.” I agreed.
“Lets get back up front.” Cav suggested, after getting caught in that tumble I was only too happy to follow him up through the bunch.
At Arth we turned away fro Zugersee towards Goldau and the first climb of the day. The break seemed to take heart as the road started to rise, the reaction from the peloton was muted to say the least and as we passed under the motorway junction their lead was stretching quite rapidly – if they get thirty seconds it’ll be murder pulling it back.
“Josh.”
“Wassup?” he whispered back.
“Chase?”
“Say when man.” He grinned back.
We’d no doubt get some company but its not like we’re going for the stage, just evening the odds a bit.
“Cav, 42?” I queried, forty-two being our team code for ‘attack’.
He nodded his consent, as a team we had discussed this sort of thing happening and we’d looked at various scenarios but not what was to actually happen next. As the road climbed a bit more steeply I signalled Josh and the two of us went for it, scratch that, three of us as Mark glued himself to my wheel. What the heck is he up to? He’s supposed to stay in the main bunch and come up with the chase.
No point in worrying now, we’re committed to the move now. In truth I’d expected us to get about ten metres before there was a reaction but we were now nearly at the top of the climb and I couldn’t hear any pursuit. I took over from Josh, keeping the pace high, we had reduced the gap to the break to maybe seventy metres and as the road tilted down towards Lauerzsee I turned up the screw, Cav surprising me by coming through for a turn soon after.
I dropped in behind Josh before casting behind to see where the response was to find instead of us igniting a reaction the bunch seemed to be ignoring us completely. Sugar, what do we do now, both captains are chasing the break, the rest of the team are now leaderless in a hostile peloton, this wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Thought you were staying back?” I mentioned as Cav dropped back.
“I thought when you said 42 that meant we were attacking?”
“Well only to stir the bunch up, not that that seems to’ve happened.”
“Clearly they don’t reckon we’re any threat.”
Hmm, this might be our chance, we could kill the break and take our chances or we can maybe steal the advantage?
“What say we go for it then? There’s a few back there will see the danger but I don’t reckon there’ll be an organised chase for a bit.”
“Can but try.” Mark shrugged.
As a game plan it wasn’t exactly brilliant, we’d no doubt get swallowed up in a few k’s but at least we’d know what to expect in future.
“Lets do it, Josh my man, don’t spare the horses.”
“Yes milady!” he grinned back.
“What’s happening?” Mand asked, riding up to Geth.
“No flippin’ idea, Drew, Cav and Josh took off like blue arsed what nots, everyone else just seem to be looking at each other.”
“Sugar.” She uttered to herself, “watch the Germans, they all know Drew so we go where they go, I’ll tell the others.”
Geth was only too happy to be told what to do, tactics were never his strong point and without the guidance of Drew or Cav he really was like a rudderless boat. Meanwhile Mand slipped around the bunch to tell the others, a bunch that was still pretty much ignoring the action in front.
“Hey Manda, any idea who’s away?” Roni enquired.
“No idea, no ones chasing though.”
“Must be some chancers out to impress.”
“Yeah.” Mand agreed, ignorance is bliss!
‘Break 4, 7, 29, 73, 110, 111, 117 – peloton 35 seconds.’ The race radio advised as they followed the race along the edge of Lauerzsee.
“Three of ours!” Mike excitedly mentioned.
“What the heck are they up to?” Dave enquired to no one in particular, “They were supposed to stay safe in the bunch.”
“Mark, Drew and Josh, oh shite.” Mike’s enthusiasm waned as quickly as it had risen.
“Shite indeed, they’re supposed to be saving themselves not attacking, Dave’s gonna go ape.”
For his part, Dave was with Caro, Steve and Darren a couple of kilometres ahead at the feed station.
“What the hell are they doing?”
“No idea boss, it’ll ease the feed though.” Caro offered.
“Don’t they ever listen?” Dave fumed.
“I’m sure they know what they’re doing Dave.” Steve supplied, fingers crossed behind his back.
The three of them had made contact with the four-man break as they left Lauerz after Josh put in a monster effort on the descent to the village. The others seemed a little surprised to see them but seemed happy enough to join in the rotation that the newcomers initiated. More riders, more rest but more momentum and with the help of the twisty lakeside road the lead started to increase second by second.
“We still on?” I asked as Cav came past in the rotation.
“I guess, be better if I can spell a few rotes.”
“After the feed? Its only a couple of K’s.”
“Sure, hey the neutrals coming up.”
“Thirty seconds then, still a long way to go though.”
“How committed are we?” he asked next rotation.
“Can’t see us making the finish but we can have a crack at the intermediate, that’s only about twenty five away.” I mentioned after checking my route card.
“’Kay, the others look strong enough.”
“For now.” I agreed.
“Steady, forty.” Steve told me as I grabbed my musette.
Hmm, still going out but there’s like sixty odd kilometres to go.
The next kilometres returned us to a lakeside, Vierwaldstattersee this time; we’ll pretty much follow the ‘northern’ coast back to Luzern. Mark managed to surreptitiously sit out about one rotation in three, not that he was alone; the French lad was starting to struggle a bit although the two Swiss and it turned out to be a Swede were still doing full turns. A slight wind on our left shoulders didn’t go amiss and we were holding a steady forty kph along the almost level road to Gersau.
The kilometres clicked by, our lead hovering around the forty second point, the bunch still uninterested in any kind of serious chase.
“Sprint’s in the next town.” I mentioned to Josh.
“Who’s going?” he asked.
Good question, its supposed to be a stiff climb to the line, my speciality but Mark is the designated sprinter. The decision was taken out of my hands as the taller of the Swiss chose that moment to go for it. I glanced at Cav who shook his head, well Drew old boy, time to show what you’re made of.
I snicked up a gear and set off in pursuit, I was still twenty metres off his wheel when we turned into Weggis but the gap was closing. The climb was noticeable by its absence and I closed the remaining gap in short order, both of us easing slightly as my adversary realised a different tactic would be required. Then we turned away from the waterfront and started the climb.
After barely a climb in thirty kilometres the steepness of this ascent came as something of a shock to the system and I lost several metres to the Swiss before my head told my legs what to do. A small but partisan crowd cheered as we climbed away from the lake then I got my chance, my opponent faltered as he crossed some sort of utility cover, I needed no second invitation and kicked towards the left. A curse and crash of gears gave away his response; I just kept stamping on the pedals.
The gradient started to ease as the road widened and the ‘summit’, well sprint point was suddenly just metres away. I crossed the line just as the red fog made its presence felt amidst great cheering from the crowd. I eased right back and was surprised when both Josh and Cav joined me as we rejoined the main road.
“Bleh!”
“We’ve done it now,” Mark mentioned.
“Eh?”
“Josh here dragged me up the climb, that Swiss kid blew so we got second and third.”
“Result!” I glanced back, “ no sign of the bunch or that French kid.”
“Go for it?” Mark suggested.
It’s a fairly flat forty kilometres to the finish, what’s the worst that can happen?
© Maddy Bell 07.01.14
*Chapter 4*
Prima Gaby
The Swede and two Swiss soon rejoined us, no point in making things too hard for ourselves and apart from some dirty looks from the Swiss pair we slipped quickly into a kilometre eating rotation again. The drop through Greppen was a short but welcome relief after the climb but all too quickly we were having to push the pedals around again as we returned to Küssnacht. From here to the finish we retrace the outward route to Luzern just fourteen kilometres away.
“Bloody hell!” Laura gasped as the road finally levelled after the climb.
“Well done.” Gret mentioned, her breathing better controlled but still panting hard.
The GB and German girls unlike some of the other girls were still in the main peloton, Mand’s suggestion of shadowing the Germans having born fruit, Jamie, Darren and Geth were still there too even helping to chase down some of the increasing number of attacks. The wiser riders had now realised their error in letting the no hope Britisher's go up the road. One group had succeeded in escaping but despite gaining time on the bunch they were still over thirty seconds behind the escapees when they turned into Weggis.
“The neutral’s dropping back.” Josh observed as we departed Küssnacht.
“Only about six.” Mark supplied after balancing against me to look behind.
“Keep going?”
“Too right,” Cav grinned, “they can flippin’ work for it.”
All pretence at working together was now gone as we climbed through Merlischachen, Josh taking the brunt of the effort, the others sat behind us – not sure how much use that was as both Mark and I don’t give much protection! The pace had gradually dropped and as we entered the town the pursuivants made contact and swept through making us have to work to get on the train.
On one hand the extra riders pulled out the odds somewhat but also took the pressure off of Team GB at a crucial moment. A quick count now made us thirteen strong and the neutral was back behind us so with any luck we’ll hold out to the finish. We got a chance to rest a bit as we descended towards Seeburg
“We’ll try to get you up front.” I offered Cav.
“Cheers, don’t pull up for me though, you deserve a crack too.”
I didn’t reply, it’s a nice offer but I doubt I’ve got the legs to really be in contention. Under the railway bridge then along the wide road around the lido. We’re finishing near the Bahnhof so there’s a way to go yet, all of it on the level. Somehow they’d cleared the route of traffic, crowds of Far Eastern tourists swelling the watching fans as we passed the Altstadt and headed across the Seebruck.
Josh finally blew as we came off the bridge leaving me to lead out Cav for the final accounting. A good chunk of the others fell by the wayside as they ran out of steam, improving the odds somewhat in our favour. I held us in fourth and fifth as we made the penultimate turn, this was on a different level to pretty much everything I’ve ridden before – I’d typically have this pretty much sewn up back home by now.
Last corner, two hundred to go and I didn’t so much pull off as Cav catapulted past me. I’m not going to race him but I reckon I can get a placing so I kept the power on. Mark is something else, overhauling the others and pulling away all the way to the line.
It didn’t look like I’d podium until the last few metres, my final red hazed push just edging me past a Spanish kid for a fairly distant third. It was chaos then, Caro guiding me to the holding area where I found a grinning Cav being attended to by Director Brailsford.
“Well done lads!” he grinned.
“I think you made an impression.” Caro put in as she rubbed my legs.
I took a long pull on a bidon, “that was flippin’ hard.”
“Four more days of the same.” Herr Direktor observed.
“Thanks for the tow.” Mark added.
“Where’d Josh get?”
“No idea yet, you two ready for testing?”
“Eh?” I dumbly queried.
“Drugs? Podium get the pleasure as well as some random's.” Caro advised.
“Course.”
Ever had a drug test? So okay its pretty much just weeing into a bottle but try doing that when you can barely stand, you're dehydrated and all you want to do is sleep. You get the idea, its not so bad of course when its 'out of competition' but the last thing I needed after three hours on the bike was to be told to 'pee in this fraulein.' you are allowed a few sips of cold water which after ten minutes finally let me do the business, bloody 'fraulein'.
"What took you?" Mark asked when I emerged from the caravan.
"Nothing a couple of litres of cold drink couldn't put right."
"Good lead out."
"Mostly Josh." I demurred.
"Don’t sell yourself short, he wasn't there at the end."
I shrugged.
"Come on you two, presentation." Steve prompted.
"Oh goody" Mark observed.
'Most aggressive rider goes to...Joshua Worg Team GB!' they never get his name right!
Wow, that’s pretty cool, he well deserves that. Josh went up and did the hand-shaking bit.
"Und next, our mountains leader, Drew Bond Team GB!"
Hey, my turn. I stepped up and clearly the bloke handing stuff out was a bit confused, not sure whether to do the kiss bit or handshake, finally going with the latter. The prize of course is a jersey, bit big on me but I was still pretty chuffed to slip on the polka dots except instead of dots it was Swiss flags.
We missed out on the team classification as its the first six that count and the best of the rest was Jamie down in 53rd, the Italians out pointed us on the day even with only one top twenty finisher. I slipped the jersey back off, the overall was next.
'After a very exciting finale we have some riders to watch out for tomorrow, in third place ... Drew Bond Team GB!"
I punched the air as I stood on the podium with a huge grin on my chops.
'Second place ... Jose Martinez Espana!'
The Spaniards teammates were typically Spanish, very loud.
'Our winner today, from Team GB, Mark Cavendish!'
Well two can play at that game, a grinning Cav climbed to the top step to receive the winner’s plaudits accompanied by some very loud cheering. Could I have won? Possibly but thirds not too shabby. Tomorrow we are literally going to be marked men, Mark wearing the yellow, me the dotty.
Back at the hotel an hour later the three of us were summoned to a meeting with the Director, Steve and Caro.
“Would someone like to tell me what happened out there?” Dave requested.
“We got a result?” Mark offered.
“A result we weren’t looking for and didn’t need today, so whose idea was it to attack less than halfway through what should have been an easy day?”
I thought the whole idea was to win.
“It wasn’t planned.” I offered.
“I know it wasn’t planned, what we planned was to get everyone around in a fairly relaxed way instead of which you three go and blast the rest of the field to bits and ignored your team mates.”
“That’s a bit strong Dave.” Caro interjected.
“It was sort of my fault I guess.” I proposed, “there were some lads away and no one was making any effort to contain them, they were starting to pull away so I thought we should drag them back.” I paused.
“No one chased us like,” Josh added, “so we were in no mans land, we had quite a gap when we got up to them like.”
“You didn’t think that the others were maybe waiting to pull them back more steadily?” Herr Direktor suggested.
“We expected at least someone to chase us.” Mark put in.
“And just why were you there?” Dave enquired of our sprinter man.
“I sort of got Drew’s intention wrong, I thought he was attacking seriously.”
“So can one of you explain why you continued when you saw how it was playing out?”
“We thought we’d might as well keep going, we thought the bunch would chase us.”
“Dave.” Steve motioned something to his boss.
“Alright we’ll leave it for now, you’ve left us with something of a problem though, four more stages and we have two jerseys to defend with a mostly inexperienced team, Mark will be watched like a hawk and anything you two are involved with will be marked to death. You three are our most experienced riders, any suggestions?” Dave queried.
“I don’t think we should defend the yellow.” Mark offered, “its nice an all but whilst the others have improved loads I don’t think we can do it. Lose that and we’ll have more freedom, maybe have a crack the last couple of days if we’re not too far off the pace.”
“So you think we should defend the mountains?” Caro asked.
“Its more attainable.” Cav stated with a shrug.
“Drew?” the Director queried.
“I guess, there’s only one big climb tomorrow, a good time trial will count and stage four only has one climb too. The last stage doesn’t have any point on offer so whoever has the dots after stage four just needs to get to Bern in one piece.”
“What about you Josh, anything to add?” Steve prompted.
“Well like, it’ll be less work for the team if we aren’t worrying about finishing each day at the front, I reckon we could have a bash on the last day like.”
“How’s the side Drew?” Caro posed.
“Bit sore, be alright as long as I don’t deck it again.”
“Okay you three, go enjoy your fame for a bit, dinner at the same place we ate Thursday at seven if you can let everyone know please. Well go on scoot!” Herr Brailsford waved us away, we were only too happy to oblige.
“What was that all about?” Mand enquired when we rejoined the others in the makeshift massage room otherwise known as the hotels breakfast room.
“Just a debrief.” I stated, I’m hardly going to admit that we got a dressing down for winning am I?
“Yeah, they wanted to get some expert opinion on the rest of the race.” Mark added taking a seat to wait his turn.
“Is it always like today, the big races?” Laura enquired from behind the improvised modesty curtain where Jemma was pummelling her legs back into shape.
“Nah, its usually much more intense.” Mark offered.
“Before ah forget like, dinners same place as Thursday, we meet there at seven.” Josh informed everyone.
“Three hours to kill then, I’m starving now.” Claire told us.
“We could go for a walk, get a burger or something.” Geth suggested emerging from the second treatment tent.
“Drew, you’re next.” Dad instructed.
In the end it was only me, Claire and Manda who headed out in search of a pre dinner snack. We walked down towards the lake, I’m sure I saw some sort of snack bar the other afternoon.
“Do you recognise her,” Claire pointed to one of the damned posters that I adorn across half of Switzerland. ”I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere before.”
Mand snorted.
“Ma-and!”
“What’s so funny?” Claire asked.
“Drew?” Mand queried.
“She’ll find out soon enough.” I sighed.
“Find out what? There something I don’t know?”
© Maddy Bell 09.01.14
*Chapter 5*
Fondue
“Don’t be daft, she’s got a right rack.” Claire announced.
I pulled my sweatshirt tight, even with my tight sports bra there could be no mistaking my girls pushing out the material.
“But, when we’re riding?”
“I wear a size bigger jersey than I need.” I offered as I rearranged my top, “People see what they want to see.”
“I don’t understand, hang on, the dance at Lilleshall, it was you with that skater girl.” She accused.
“Jess, yup guilty as charged, it wasn’t my idea though.”
“She says.” Mand snuck in.
“It wasn’t. No one’s supposed to know though Claire, please don’t tell anyone.” I pleaded.
“So why don’t you race as a girl? You’d win everything.”
Why don’t I? Well I guess I will be next season.
“It’s complicated.” I supplied.
We ended up getting a hotdog from one of those mobile cart things down near the bridge.
“So if no one’s s’posed to know how come you’re grinning from every fence post in Switzerland?” Claire pursued around a mouthful of processed meat product.
Okay, it’s a good question and if you weren’t at the Verkehrshaus on Friday not one you’d know the answer to, so of course I had to fill them both in on the full story.
“That’s just so funny, Drew.” Claire announced.
“Gaby, it’s Gaby when mister Bond here is in a dress.” Mand pronounced.
“Gaby?”
“Yeah, it’s short for Gabrielle.” I admitted.
“So like, those German girls, they know about Gaby?”
“Uh huh and Josh.”
“But you’re sharing with Josh!”
“Tell me about it.” I sighed.
“That is just so wrong.”
“Not for Drew it’s not.” Manda put in.
“But…”
“I’m here as Drew, Claire, I’ll live even if he does snore.”
“But what if he tries anything?”
“Josh? Not gonna happen, I’d just tell Tali.”
“The German girl?”
“Yeah, she’s his girlfriend.”
“Damn.”
“Okay people, settle down.” Steve requested.
It took a couple of minutes but we finally gave him our attention.
“The food will be a few minutes coming so we might as well get this out of the way whilst we wait. Thanks to Speedy, Tiny and He-man we are in the unenviable position of winning three of the four individual categories today which now leaves us with a bit of a problem for the rest of the week. I’m sure the guys have already told you, today’s result wasn’t planned in any way, it was mostly luck and opportunism – we can’t rely on that for the rest of the Tour so we’ve come up with a strategy that will need everyone’s help to succeed.”
He paused briefly before going on.
“We won’t be defending the Yellow, we don’t have the strength in depth and those directly involved agree it would be futile to try. On the other hand we do have an attainable target, Drew’s Mountain classification. The aim won’t be to get Drew to the top of all the climbs first, nice as that might be, but instead we need to prevent the other contenders scoring points in the competition. So tomorrow we need everyone to be there for the day’s big climb over the Brünig Pass – if we’ve anyone left in to contest the finish it’ll be a bonus. Questions?”
Sal raised a hand, “Some of us aren’t exactly mountain goats, just getting over the pass might be pushing us to the limit let alone racing it.”
“Good point,” Caroline observed. “What we want to try and do is crowd the peloton to the base of the climb proper, keep the pace fairly high but generally protect Drew from attacks. If past experience is anything to go by no one will be very interested in attacking before the climb and a high pace will hopefully deter anyone thinking of such a move.”
“Thanks, Caroline, anyone else?” Steve enquired.
From the look on some faces there certainly were but no one wanted to voice them.
“Let me make this clear, you all did well today, what you lack in experience you made up for with enthusiasm. You are here not for us to win but to gain more of that precious experience, we’ll go over tomorrow’s stage in more detail in the morning. Ot oh, looks like the food’s coming so I’ll shut up.”
He wasn’t wrong, a flock, well there were three, of waitresses started to distribute the soup course, a thin soup with vegetables and dumplings which whilst quite tasty did little to satisfy anyone’s hunger.
“I could eat that again,” Laura observed.
“Could’ve done with more of those dumpling things.” Darren noted.
“Yeah, me too,” I agreed.
“Piglet!” Manda put in.
“So what’s the main tonight?” Claire queried.
I checked the me and you, “Ooh – it’s fondue.”
For those of you unfamiliar with Swiss cuisine fondue is almost the national dish. Essentially it’s a pot of melted cheese that you dip pieces of meat or bread into, I’ve been wanting to try it since Mum went on about having it at the team’s ski camp last January. As if waiting for my cue the trio of servitors arrived to remove our bowls which were replaced in short order by the fondue stoves.
“What’s this stuff for?” Gethin asked.
“It’s to keep the cheese hot.” I offered.
“Cheese?”
“Yep, that’s what fondue is, you’ll see.”
“I hope it’s not strong cheese, can’t stand smelly cheese.” Sal mentioned.
“It won’t be Cheddar, I think it’s special cheese just for this.” I observed.
Pots of bubbling cheese soon arrived, stoves were lit, the dipping element placed in front of each of us and a little hesitantly our first fondue party got underway. Of course Claire managed to drop her first bit of meat into the yellow morass – you really need to spear your food before dipping in. Getting it out and eating your cheese coated morsel is another art; but with our platters of food to dip we had a chance to practice the technique.
“Man, I’m stuffed, like.” Josh announced patting his stomach.
“You didn’t have to finish Laura’s and your own.” Manda pointed out.
“I’m a growing lad, like.”
“Growing what?” Laura queried with a grin.
“Eh?”
Josh can be a bit thick at times.
“Come on you lot, early night, it’s gonna be a hard day tomorrow and don’t forget we’re moving hotel as well tomorrow.” Dad chided as he herded us back into the hotel.
“Aww, no fair, Mr Bond.” Mand groaned.
“Life’s not fair, so hop to it, girls.”
They were in a silly mood so we had to put up with an impromptu demonstration of five year olds doing rabbit impersonations – you wouldn’t think that I’m the youngest here.
“Some day, eh?” Josh sighed as he collapsed onto his bed.
“Interesting, you want the bathroom?”
“Go for it, man, I need to start packing like.”
“Cheers, bud.”
Once in the bathroom I locked the door and pulled my handy out, hmm one message – Bern.
‘Hi G, ? it going. Bn p’ng dwn here. D kpng me up all nt, hugs B’
Text speak – some one needs to write a dictionary! Let’s see now:
‘Hey B gd 2 hr fr u. 3rd td ldg mtns. Gv D hug fr me, ttfn Gabs’
Hope she understands that. Now then, Toni – I am not telling you what I sent to Italy, ut uh! I got a reply after a couple of minutes that contained just as much sloppy talk as I’d sent which had my insides going mushy again.
“Drew man, you died in there?” Josh’s voice broke through the gooeyness.
“Erm soz, be right out.”
“No rush like, woz just a bit quiet, man.”
I stowed my phone and got on with my ablutions.
“Thought you were changing like?” Josh observed when I emerged five minutes later.
“Forgot to take ‘em in, ‘s’all yours.”
“In a bit.”
“I sort of told Claire.” I offered.
“Told her what, man?”
“About Gaby?”
“What youse do that for?”
“She pretty much spotted it was me on all those posters.”
“You look a right fox in that outfit like.”
“Thanks for that opinion.” I snapped.
“Ah wuz only saying, like.”
“It gets old quick seeing those all day.”
“I guess, so what’d Claire say?”
“Well I almost had to get the girls out to convince her.”
“Tha gorls?”
“These?” I thrust out my boobies.
“Man! Give over like!”
“Oops soz,” I apologised, “well she seems okay with it.”
“Hope she keeps the lid on.”
“I think she will, it’s not like anyone else would believe her is it, those posters make me look pretty stacked and I hardly walk around in a dress do I?”
“Drew, Man!”
“What?”
“Clothes?”
“Eh, oh sugar, sorree.” Without thinking, I’d pulled my jumper off taking my T with it revealing the girls squished in my BH. I grabbed up my PJ top and covered myself.
“Go get changed eh, before ah have a heart attack.” He ordered.
Talk about embarrassing.
© Maddy Bell 14.01.14
*Chapter 6*
Passed Over
“How we doing?” Steve enquired.
What we were doing was getting our kit loaded for the transfer to tonight’s sleeping place – the organisers have supplied the transport in the form of a post office truck that was collecting the kit for all the teams. We are staying at some place called Meiringen at the thoughtfully named Hotel Tourist, no really. It’s only for two nights as we spend the last race night at Interlaken, which even I’ve heard of – well Mum was there last winter.
“Nearly done Steve.” Dad advised him, “Josh can you give Drew a hand with that please.”
“Da-ad!” I groaned, I mean its not like I’m useless.
“Sure Mr B.”
Josh grabbed the case I was struggling to lift and hoisted it up onto the truck – grrr.
“Team brief in ten.” Steve stated.
“Go on you two, I’ll sort these last couple.” Dad told us.
“Everyone happy?” Herr Direktor enquired.
The plan was simple, keep me in contention for the big climb then get to the finish. The stage profile has a couple of other smaller climbs before the pass and one just before the finish but none of them score any points for the mountains competition. There are two intermediate sprints at 33 and 71 kilometres, the pass is at 78km and we finish in Brienz after 100km of riding.
There was an exchange of looks between us, the frivolity of last night replaced by pretty much universal trepidation. We’ve done the training, got through the first easy stage but today is something entirely different.
“No? Okay good luck everyone, have a good ride.”
“Okay you lot, presentation in ten so we’d best get moving.” Caro chivvied.
Whilst I’ve been wearing the leaders jersey in the Jüngere Cup events this year seeing Cav in the yellow and me in my spotty strip felt quite different. So okay it’s not the Tour or Giro but this is a junior equivalent and it’s certainly nice to have on my palmares. One positive is that Mark and I start on the front of the peloton and the rest of our squad are only a couple of rows back so unlike yesterday where we pretty much started at the back we get to lead the race out of Luzern.
Mark and I shook hands, “race you for the finish.” Cav offered.
“I’ll think about it.” I grinned back.
The PA screeched for our attention, “funf, vier, drei, zwei, einer, go!”
Someone waved a Swiss flag about and with a clatter of cleats on pedals we were on our way. Today we had to negotiate the cobbles of the Altstadt before crossing the river, our procession pretty much did a city tour before the lead car accelerated ahead and the neutral section ended. Clearly with a tough days riding ahead no one was going to do anything daft like attack on the streets of Luzern, a few riders moved up however – I recognised one or two from yesterday.
The speed wasn’t too high for which I was thankful, even a few k’s at an easier pace would give particularly the girls a fighting chance of being in the mix when we needed them. The wide boulevards gave way to narrower streets which had the effect of stringing the bunch out, I’m glad I started at the front, this could be a recipe for stupid mistakes causing accidents. We swung alongside the lake and got our first view of the mountains to the south, mountains we would finish the day on the other side of.
Our route was now sandwiched between a mountain and the lake, literally cut through the rock in places and with a little over twelve kilometres under our wheels a few riders were getting a bit agitated. By now Josh, Jamie and Darren had joined me and Mark near the head of affairs, we were prepared and everyone else seemed to be watching us, waiting to see what we’d do. It was tempting but we, I, am under orders not to do anything unless we really have to before the first intermediate sprint.
Finally one of the Italians couldn’t contain himself and went for it, which resulted in – nada. One rider on his own isn’t a danger and with Cav’s distinctive jersey the onus is on us to do any chasing hence everyone else’s apathy. As we’re not interested in wasting energy no one else felt inclined to assist us, any help later would be welcomed but not expected.
The lone rider ahead of us made about five seconds before we crossed into Stansstad then remained there dangling like a sky blue carrot. I glanced at Mark and got a wink in reply, the others all looked comfortable enough perhaps Darren looked a little uncomfortable but he gave me a grin when he saw me looking. I guess we are as ready as we can be.
We crossed under the autobahn and into Stans, our carrot still dangling but going nowhere. I’m sure he’d been expecting some sort of reaction, if not it was a long shot to escape even for the first sprint this early in the proceedings. There was a reasonable crowd in the town centre who were quite vociferous in their cheering.
Back out of the town and into a slight headwind as we headed back towards the motorway. That kind of played into our hands; with five riders in the front twenty we were ideally placed to control things as echelons started to form. Of course it also meant that breakaway boy started to lose his advantage and by the time we started circling the Ennetbürgen military base he’d been swallowed up.
The morning cloud has been replaced by blue skies with just a few clouds scudding about as the temperature rises. I took a swig from my bottle which caused a comical copycat response of riders drinking, an idea popped into my head; yes we can play this to our advantage.
“Mark?” I half whispered.
“Wassup?”
“How d’you like that jersey?”
“Why, what are you cooking up, we’re under orders remember?”
“Time bonus?”
“And?”
“A little leg stretch?”
“Okay you’ve got me.”
“Short climb coming up, up the ante a bit, get the bonus then sit up.”
“They’ll never let us.”
I shrugged, “nothing ventured.”
“You’re call then.”
By the time we reached Buochs the others were aware we were doing something, I’m sure the other teams had seen us talking and were expecting something. When we turned onto the bottom of the climb they were therefore at sixes and sevens when instead of attacking we dropped the pace. They had a choice now, attack themselves or wait to see what we were up to. Of course go slow on a hill and the whole peloton bunches up which in turn makes it more difficult for anyone trying to put in an effort to get through which means…
Mark fluttered his fingers and Jamie and I set off in a concerted effort for the top with the yellow jersey tagged in behind. We’d been expecting it, the rest hadn’t so the delay in their response was enough to give us a twenty metres start, the road wasn’t particularly wide either which meant Daz and Josh’s blocking was more successful than I’d expected. We were quickly over the top and without the headwind we soon had a rotation going, as we’ve made the move the other teams now have to do something, the onus of pursuit moving away from Team GB.
By the time the road levelled out we had about fifty metres, a chasing pack and a kilometre to the sprint point. Doable – just, I snicked up a gear and dug a little deeper, unlike yesterdays finish today we’re only thirty kilometres in and we’ll have plenty of chance to recover a bit afterwards. We rattled across a level crossing and passed the town sign and not far beyond the 400m indicator.
Jamie was looking a little ragged.
“Drop if you want.” I gasped as we crossed.
He shook his head no, the grimace on his face half hidden by a grin.
Into the town proper, we sliced through the corners and there it was, our grail, the intermediate sprint. The bunch couldn’t be far behind, none of us would risk a look behind but a plate glass window provided a rear view mirror. Yes we had space.
I’m guessing the crowd from our first pass through the town had moved to see us come through a second time, as there was a good cheer as we approached the line. Jamie finally gave up about twenty metres short but even so he crossed the line ahead of the chasers who swept all three of us up within metres. The time bonuses were ours, anyone wanting the yellow would need to finish eleven seconds in front of Mark now – with only half a dozen riders given the same time yesterday that narrows the field and my own bonus of five seconds has me second on the road.
After the chase the bunch seemed content to have just brought us back, no one was ready to attack on the back of our effort. Of course the fact that we’d been tamed in our attack sent quite a mixed bag of signals to the bunch, really all it proved was that they hadn’t really learnt anything from yesterday. The longer, wider, sweeping climb out of Stans was climbed at a fairly good rate of knots, not enough to cause any problems at the front of the bunch, I just hope the girls are okay back there.
Josh and Darren rejoined us as we bumbled along the valley floor.
Josh’s eyebrow rising query got an ‘okay’ hand signal to which he grinned back.
The next bit of excitement will be the feed station in around ten kilometres, hopefully no one will get jiggy before then so we recover some from our ‘attack’. Around the bunch faces now looked more relaxed, they’d killed our attack, we were clearly a spent force, yesterday was a fluke wasn’t it? Not everyone had fallen for it of course but enough that at least for now the pressure was off a little.
“What are you up to?” Roni’s voice enquired in my ear.
“Eh? Oh hi Ron, nice day.”
“Don’t you nice day me, what was that play acting all about?”
As if I’m gonna tell her!
“What acting?”
“Back at the sprint.”
“Thought we’d try the same as yesterday.” I offered.
“If you say so.”
“Well I suppose it was a bit early to attack, fresh legs in the bunch still. You seen Mand today?”
“Seen her, she’s like a flippin’ limpet!”
“Hi Drew.” Manda called out.
At least one of the girls is up here.
“By the way, well done for yesterday.”
“Cheers Ron, it was only third though.”
“And a pretty spotted jersey.” She pointed out.
“This ole thing? Just something I picked up on the way.”
She did the eye-rolling bit before moving off.
“You okay Mand?”
“Went a bit wild for that sprint back there.”
“Um sorry bout that. The others?”
“Sal was off the back for a bit but she’s back now.”
“Cool, it’s about thirty to the pass.”
“I can wait.” She allowed before returning to shadow Ron.
“We set?” Josh asked.
“Think so, Ron smelt a rat but its not like we’re attacking again is it?”
“If you say so boss girl.”
“Hey!”
He stuck his tongue out, “gotcha!”
At least my fizzog isn’t plastered over every post out here – quite.
The pace was sitting a steady thirty kph, higher than pre sprint but I’m sure once the climbing gets going it’ll drop. The feed was on a slight up going through Kerns which everyone managed to negotiate – as far as I can tell, without mishap, leastwise I didn’t hear any of the cacophony often associated with this bit of a race. Transferring everything out your musette is another potentially hazardous exercise, dropping stuff, attacks but not this time.
A few bends, a short climb then we were dropping towards Sarnersee into Sachseln. A few watchers cheered as we swept onto the main road back towards Luzern but soon we were turning off into Sarnen to follow the opposite shore of the lake. If I remember rightly after the next village there’s another short sharp climb to reach the top lake, have to make sure no one takes a flier on that.
The sun sparkled off the lake to our left, even this fairly small slab of water infested on a Sunday with dinghies and wind surfers. I looked around the other riders, the Swiss lads are obviously up for it on their home turf, a smattering of north Europeans sat uneasily with the darker Mediterranean region riders, can we really take it to them all again today?
© Maddy Bell 15.01.14
*Chapter 7*
Pass The Buck
We’d talked about how the girls could help in the Polka Dot jersey defence, it was actually Claire who came up with the idea and somehow all the building blocks were in place. It’s a pretty risky idea but let’s face it, the worst that can happen is failure. We negotiated Giswil then as the grade started to steepen I pulled my bottle out and held it aloft.
That was the signal and Mand reacted immediately by sprinting around the leaders, Ron reacted quickly and gave chase. At this point I probably need to clarify things: whilst both sexes are racing together so everyone can influence the results the prizes are distinct male/female for everything except the team competition where everyone is in the pot. So the girls going off up the road was not a cause for concern to the male element of the peloton although it should’ve.
The very action of the girls attacking was a distraction that caused some amusement at the front of the pack, misplaced of course. It was tempting to join the escape party when the second wave was launched by Claire but I’m too easy to see in the spots so I stayed on station. The lads were all up now, not in a bunch but poised to join in the fun when it’s time.
Of course none of the lads wanted to be bested by the fairer sex so it wasn’t long before there was a response. We’d allowed for this so Daz sprinted up to the Swiss who was first to react but instead of going with him, just slotted on his wheel. The idea is that Daz acts as an anchor, his very presence enough to slow the other rider and it worked admirably, they gained no more than ten metres.
No one else seemed inclined to have a go; we rode through these first hairpins piano, the pace comfortable enough not to shell any but the least capable out the back. We popped over the top to be treated to a view of the mountain we have to tackle ahead of us. I think I mentioned before that it’s not the highest pass, it’s only 1000m at the summit, the climb proper is* about four kilometres although you climb for twenty or so to reach it from the north.
Our distraction seemed to be working better than I’d hoped; Ron, Tal and Gret are up there with Manda, Claire and Laura plus another half dozen including two Swiss girls. They’re in sight, maybe 100 metres ahead of us now, time to start phase two. I repeated the bottle thing, this time with the other hand – hopefully any watchers would think I was asking for a replacement.
The road hugs the Lungernsee for a couple of kilometres before reaching the village and the start of the ascent, time enough to stir things up. My bottle waving brought the troops if not at a gallop, at least in short order and with Josh taking the first pull we started to wind the pace up – I say we, I sat behind to use as little energy as possible.
Quick escape? As if! The rest of the contenders reacted by matching our speed, surely this was our attack? Well the idea was really to keep the pace high to prevent anyone else getting away in the same way the lead out works for a sprint, keep the pace high and hopefully the opposition gets whittled down to manageable proportions. At this pace I reckon we’ll be up to the girls not far past the village, which is where part three, will hopefully click in.
The crowd in Lungern was, whilst small quite loud – I was a bit surprised to hear one particular group specifically cheering Team GB.
“Dig in Mark.”
“Hang in there little un.” I presumed that meant me.
“You’ll catch ‘em.”
“Come on England.”
And one card waved a bit further along that read ‘Brits 1, The rest 0’ – well you could feel the pace pick up as my teammates subconsciously reacted to the support. The gap to the girls was closing but not as quickly as I’d’ve guessed; the cheering probably had the same effect on Mand and co I suppose. We left the village and the gradient increased a little, with the GB train in full flow you could already see some of the less able riders sliding backwards.
Into the trees and now instead of the rotation it was time to get buried. I don’t mean literally but Daz took the first session, riding as hard as he could for as far as possible. Geth was up next, crouched over the bars and powering us up through the trees, the road kinked left and the girls were directly in front, it has to be said in some disarray.
“Left!”
“Lenks!”
We less swept as crawled past.
“Go on guys!” Claire gasped out as she struggled to hold onto the wheel in front – we might have spent a week in Italy but doing this under race conditions is totally different.
My fellow tester, motioned Jamie through and our pocket Scot took over the pace, up ahead the flashing lights of the lead car disappeared, the slight right-hand bend we were on revealed about another half dozen girls still strung along the road. Geez, Ron’s really going for it. One of the Swiss was a few metres adrift then a bigger gap to, wow it’s Mand and Laura with Tali about a length behind.
The reason for the disappearing car soon became apparent as the road reared up and into an almost hairpin, Josh took over at the head of affairs, was that a smile I spotted as he momentarily glanced back? The tight corner gave me an opportunity to take a look behind when we reached it – geez; our tactic has been more successful than I might have hoped. Whilst about ten riders were still sat in behind us, from what I could see the rest were spread in ones, twos and small groups well back down the hillside.
Our Toon powered upward, once or twice Mark losing his wheel, then we burst from the tree-lined tunnel into a bit of a clearing where a good number of the local Tifosi as well as more casual observers cheered us through just metres behind our girls. We swung out and past.
“Nice one, girls.” I encouraged.
“Go for it, Gab.” Mand gasped out.
Sugar, what’d she just call me?
A gear change behind alerted me to some potential action and I wasn’t disappointed when one of the Swiss took off like a blue arsed what not.
“Get Mark over.” I shouted to Josh before taking off in pursuit.
My opponent was certainly giving it some and he soon overhauled the remaining girls and the gap back to me was growing. A board at the roadside revealed that it was still a kilometre to the summit, most of which was at a fixed gradient of about 10%. I took the Swiss girl and clawed up to Ron.
“Alright?”
“I knew you were up to something.” She gasped back.
“Company?”
She glanced back, “’Bout ten piano at seventy-five.”
“Yellow?”
“He’s there with Josh, none of ours though.”
“Well the best in Germany are up here,” I grinned, “share the pace?”
Roni might be a girl but er so am I I guess, anyhow she’s not a bad climber and I don’t need to be first to the top to keep the spots. The Swiss ahead wasn’t in the mountains points yesterday so as long as I score decent points myself I’ll hang on to the jersey.
“Sure, Apollinaris all the way!”
Rather than a rotation we rode alongside each other, half wheeling to keep the pace going. The road bore to the right and into a long straight revealing the Swiss lad about two fifty ahead – not too much to retrieve on the descent. Our speed wasn’t high but it was steady and the red and white carrot ahead kept us focussed.
A fairly tight left-hander saw a temporary increase in gradient that had us out of the saddle through the following right-hander then to my surprise it levelled out significantly. The village of Brünig, such as it is, meant that we could see the summit banner up above the Bahnhof buildings. Whilst there was a kick taking us up to it the gradient wasn’t bad.
“Race you.” I challenged, standing on the pedals.
“Why you!” Ron groaned behind me.
The crowd of bikies and race fans cheered loudly as my polka dot jersey came into view, I might be second over the summit but I offered a one armed salute as I rolled over the 1002m summit. I eased off to let Ron get back for the descent which she accomplished before we cleared the collection of hotels and bars on the south side of the summit.
“So we going for the stage?” Ron enquired.
“Team orders say no.”
“When do you ever follow orders?” my companion scoffed.
“Sometimes.”
“So?”
“Well no one said I couldn’t have fun going down hill.” I allowed, snicking into a smaller sprocket.
A long steepish straight had our speed climbing quickly into the sixties then just as it was getting exciting the trees gave way to our left and I spotted the the fastish left hander at the bottom and the Swiss lad nearly not making the almost hairpin turn. I dabbed at the brakes, they might be good but at this speed it still takes some distance to scrub the speed.
Ron had spotted the turn too so although she had shot past as I slowed she too was now actively trying to slow. Despite losing about twenty kph it was still quite edgy making the turn, both of us using all the available road to get round. I glanced up at the pass road, the gruppo with, I was glad to see Mark still in it, weren’t too far behind. The second sprint is at the base of the descent with its time bonuses, do I wait or try to keep others from gaining the advantage?
Although less steep than the pass itself we still had to get to the valley floor still some 400m below us. The Swiss lad was out of sight, his size would help on the down, he must be ten kilos heavier than me. Ron was going for it and I tucked in for the ride. Into the trees and the drop increased in gradient that had us both reaching for the stoppers to get around the first pair of hairpins.
As we slowed for the next set I could hear a few brake squeals above us – they are catching but how quickly? We safely got around the bends and started winding things up again, the road steep enough to get back up into the fifties and straight enough to spot the leader ahead of us. The trees to our right of the valley side* started to thin then we burst from them almost immediately entering Hausen, which if my memory is working, is where the intermediate is.
Daft place to put it really, at this speed I’d barely seen the 200m sign before we were under the banner, the small but vocal crowd not getting much spectacle from us. We rattled over the level crossing and now on the valley bottom could look forward to a dozen largely flat kilometres to the finish. The next turn pretty much had us completely turned about and the long straight allowed us to see the Swiss lad still some three hundred metres ahead.
After crossing a roundabout we started heading down the valley into a surprisingly stiff headwind. We now started to trade the pace and I thought we were doing okay until one, two, three, eight riders swept past. I looked around, yup, the chasers were here and bringing up the rear were Mark and Josh.
“Nice descent, man.” Josh offered as I prepared to take his wheel.
“Yeah.” I agreed reaching for my bottle.
“You get it?” Mark enquired.
“Second, he’s still up front somewhere.”
I checked out the rest of the select group, besides us and Ron, the Spanish lad who took second yesterday was here, another Swiss, a pair from Austria, one French, an Italian and a couple that I couldn’t see up front. The group was grinding out a good pace in a loose rotation, even the Swiss taking part, it was pretty much this effort that had us pulling the lone leader quite quickly back into the fold.
There was a palpable feeling of relief; we were all in with a shot with under ten kilometres to the finish. The road wheeled to the right and headed directly towards a looming mass of rock.
“We go over that?” Mark queried.
“Hope not.” My legs were feeling a bit on the dead side.
“It’s us three again, I hope the Boss doesn’t throw another wobbly.”
“It was his idea to go for the spots.” I offered.
“Yeah, I guess.”
The road meandered about a bit then we were climbing over a motorway junction but instead of turning along the bottom of the rock face we started to climb. Okay it wasn’t steep but it dragged enough to reduce our speed somewhat. We took the first turn which had us all out of the saddle climbing into Brienzwiler which saw several of our number including Ron slip off the back. The road climbed more steeply around to the right but just as I started to prepare for more climbing we turned off into the village proper.
Once clear of the housing the road bobbled along, still upward but so gently you could be forgiven thinking it was level, only the stream flowing alongside giving the lie to that. I reckon unless there’s any more surprises like the last climb we’ll be fighting out the sprint between the remaining nine of us.
“I don’t reckon I can do much for youse today.” Josh mentioned as we threaded our way through Hofstetten.
“S’okay, I reckon it’ll be a long un anyhow.”
“Unless someone takes a flier?” Mark suggested.
“Josh?”
“Give it a shot.”
The road crossed meadows and threaded through orchards before dropping into Schwanden, everyone watching each other with Mark and myself getting particular attention. One kilometre to go and we were heading down towards Brienzersee sparkling in the afternoon sun. Josh had manoeuvred himself forward and when whistles and flag waving announced the final turn onto the main road, instead of braking he tucked down and laid his bike well over. It certainly caught the others by surprise resulting in a chase rather than sprint scenario almost in sight of the line.
Mark and myself only need to finish with them to maintain our placings, no point in wasting energy. Josh’s effort certainly pulled their sting but despite his effort the others caught him a little before the two hundred. The sprint didn’t start immediately; I looked at Mark who just shrugged.
I started winding up; Mark close behind, belatedly the others took up the challenge and joined the eight up sprint. It was every man for himself and I heaved my bike forward as we reached the line, the red mist having not fully descended. I grabbed at the brakes; by how close everyone seemed to be after the line, it must be a pretty tight result.
“Drew?”
© Maddy Bell 16.01.14
*Chapter 8*
No Kidding Sherlock
I turned to locate the voice, Caro, and nearly rode into one of the Austrians, both of whom contested the finish.
“Sehr gut!” he grinned patting my shoulder.
“Er danke.” Not sure what that was about.
“Well done, kiddo.” Caro mentioned as she grabbed my bike.
“Who?”
“No idea, think it’ll be a photo.”
“Mark’s still got yellow.” I gasped.
“Maybe, come on, they’ll be testing everyone today.”
“Aww!”
“Get used to it kiddo, it’s a sign of success after all.”
My legs almost buckled under me when I dismounted, yeah it’s been a hard ride.
It took them a while to sort out the result, in fact we were all packed and ready to shoot before the screech of the mobile PA announced it was show time.
“Most aggressive rider – Mario Pellini, Schweiz!”
The crowd cheered loudly for the home rider as he stepped up to receive his plaudits.
“In third place, yesterday’s winner, Mark Cavendish, Team GB!”
Mark took the lowest step and the PA crackled again,
“Second place, Jose Martinez Espana!”
Two days on the trot, looks like I’ve missed out today.
“And today’s winner by half a tyre, Drew Bond, Team GB!”
“Go on up then, dumbo.” Claire chided with a shove of my elbow.
I think my grin was quite large as I climbed to the top step.
I still had another trip out to the podium to make, but I had to wait for the girl’s podium and overall first. Roni scooped top slot of course but Claire got most aggressive rider which was a surprise and the Swiss girl got the spots. Finally they got to the boy’s overall.
“Mountains, Drew Bond, Team GB.”
Oh yeah! I grinned and punched the air as I donned the spots, then had to pose with the taller than me Swiss girl for some pictures.
“Due to some exceptional riding today and time bonuses given, the judges have had to check the rule book thoroughly. We have a new leader of the Helvetia Cup…”
How can anyone have got in front of Mark? We got the time bonus and we all had the same time at the finish.
“Drew?” Caro hissed.
“Eh?”
“Go on, they’re waiting for you!”
“Why?”
“You’re in yellow now.”
Me? Yellow?
“Drew Bond!” the PA repeated and in a bit of a daze I returned to the podium. It’s only day two but I’m in the yellow jersey and the polka dots!
I’d best explain, Steve had to go through it twice with me before I got it. I started the day in third at two seconds behind Mark so when we did the one two at Stans, it put me into second but now five seconds down. Mark didn’t score at the second sprint, Mario took the ten, Roni seven and me five which on count back leaves Mark in yellow although we are both on the same time – except Roni didn’t take seven, she took ten in the girls competition, which means I got the seven putting me two seconds ahead of Mark – complicated I know.
So tomorrow I get to wear the yellow and as he’s second in the mountains competition Josh gets to wear the spots.
The Hotel Tourist is situated slightly out of Meiringen on the road to Innertkirchen, a smallish family hotel who seemed a little overwhelmed by our entourage. Apparently we should’ve booked dinner this morning, yeah I didn’t get that either but the rooms are okay and the shower’s hot.
“Okay, folks, our host has got us booked into a hotel up the hill for dinner tonight. If anyone fancies a bit of an excursion on the way there’s a mountain railway up to the Reichenbach falls, the restaurant is above the falls apparently.” Mr Brailsford told us as we gathered on the benches in front of our accommodation.
“Otherwise we’ll be taking the bus up so if you are feeling a bit fragile you still get to eat.” He grinned.
“What’re you doing, Mr Yellow?” Manda enquired.
“A walk couldn’t hurt I guess, the weather looks like it’s gonna hold.”
“Uh huh.” Mand agreed surveying the clear blue skies above.
“Anyone doing the falls needs to be ready in ten minutes.” Caro instructed.
“Best fetch my camera.”
“You should bring your yellow jersey, too.” Claire suggested.
No one wanted to look soft by taking the bus up so I joined all the other riders, Caro, Jemma and Dad for the walk to the Reichenbachfall-Bahn – not a railway as such but one of those funicular things.
“Looks a bit rickety.” Claire suggested.
I had to agree but it must be okay or it wouldn’t be running would it? Caro went to pay our fares, there was a bit of arm waving and pointing before a grinning Caroline returned.
“I got us a free trip for the price of a few photo’s, Drew, you bring the jerseys?”
“Uh huh.” Yup the yellow and the dots, seems our fame has even reached this corner of Switzerland.
So we got to pose for pictures at the base of the falls and on one of the tram cars before we loaded up to make the 250m high ascent. A few other people were waiting so we all scrunched up to get a spot on the wooden bench seats.
“Think I prefer my saddle.” Mark opined.
“Yeah, it’s a good job this is quite short.” I agreed.
“Bit like the cliff lift at Scarborough.”
“Apart from no sea view.”
“There is that.” He agreed.
“Sorry bout the jersey.” I offered as we jerked away from the Talstation.
“’S’alright, you did do most of the work.”
“Yeah but the idea was that I’d be in the spots and you in yellow.”
“We’ve still got both jerseys and I can’t complain at being second, reckon I’ll drop down tomorrow though.”
“I’m sure the boss has a plan.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, we’ve had two good days which have gone too well for us.”
“Dad always says to take advantage of anything you can get, no one remembers twentieth place.”
“He’s wise, your dad.”
The carriage juddered to a halt.
“Whats going on? Has it broken?” Claire demanded.
“Nay ye daft mare, the down train has to pass us.” Jamie informed us.
“Who you calling a mare?”
“Ah wuz only saying, ye ken?”
“That’s sexist, that is.” Claire persisted.
“He didn’t mean anything by it Claire.” Laura tried to intervene.
The down car clattered past in confirmation of Jamie’s prediction.
“Whit ah said.” Jamie mumbled.
“Humph!” Claire snorted.
Our own transport juddered into life again and our attention moved away from bike racing to trying to see the falls. We broke from the trees and found ourselves looking directly down at the rampaging waters of the Reichenbachfall.
“Pretty impressive.” Mark observed.
“I wouldn’t want to be in there.”
“That’s supposed to be how Sherlock corked it.”
“Eh?”
“You know, Sherlock Holmes, detective geezer?”
“Yeah.” I agreed.
“Well he’s supposed to’ve fallen into these falls.”
“How’d you know that?”
“There’s a leaflet thing in the room, there’s a museum in the town, old Sherlock is a bit of a tourist attraction apparently.”
“I thought he was all in London, Jack The Ripper an’ stuff.” I supplied.
“Guess he came here on his hols.” Mark chuckled.
We climbed alongside the roiling waters for a short way before we bumped to a halt.
“Must be our stop.” I supplied.
We disembarked and headed for the viewing platform, we weren’t at the top of the falls, the upper fall of the sequence crashed down from above creating a fine mist. Down below us was the rock ledge where, according to the information board, Sherlock fought with this Moriarty bloke, both of them falling to their deaths in the tumbling waters. It did look like falling into those waters would be pretty terminal.
A guy from the railway took some pics of us in front of the falls before we got our own photographic devices into action.
“Right everyone.” Dad vied for our attention.
It took a minute or two but we finally got Claire to shush.
“Okay folks, it’s about a twenty minute walk up to the restaurant, the path is a bit steep and slippery in places so be careful going up please, we don’t want any injuries.”
I’d forgotten we had more walking to do. We headed towards the path upwards and started the climb.
“Beat you to the top.” Daz challenged passing us at a trot.
Well a challenge is a challenge and what should have been a steady walk became an increasingly competitive scramble. I’m no runner it has to be said and I was soon left trailing my taller and longer legged companions. The final humiliation was when even Cav vanished out of sight up the trail leaving me panting and cursing up the path.
Reduced to not much more than a brisk walk it took me a further ten minutes before I reached the top.
“P’raps we need to confiscate his bike.” Geth suggested.
“Looks like the only way ta best him on the climbs.” Jamie agreed.
“Guys.”
“Nope there’s nothing for it, you’ll have to give up the polka dots, Drew.” Mark chortled.
“I never claimed to be a runner.” I pointed out.
“Excuses, excuses.” Laura giggled.
Yeah, even the girls all beat me to the top.
“So where’s this restaurant like?” Josh queried.
“What you asking me for?”
“Thought you were map reading on the way up.”
“Why you!” I started to chase after him but let’s face it, he was always gonna get away.
The adults arrived before I could show myself up any further.
“Stop larking around you two.”
“Yes, Dad.” I allowed with a sigh.
© Maddy Bell 18.01.14
*Chapter 9*
Plan to Lose
“So in conclusion, you’ve all proved your worth today, call it luck if you like but we’ve ended the day with a stronger hand than we started with.”
Our leader paused and surveyed his audience.
“Now tomorrow, folks, whilst it would be very nice in deed to hold onto the yellow, your coaches all agree that we’ll need a bucket load of luck to do that. It’s a short day, only seventy-five kilometres and you’ve only got one climb but it’s a doozie. Twenty kilometres with no real let up and the summit is barely ten from the finish – get to the top in good order and you’ve a chance of a result.
After we’ve eaten we’ll take a look at the descent to the finish, we can’t go to the top as it’s some sort of private road not open to the public. So our main job will be to give Drew as much help as we can, Mark, sprint in Interlaken, at about forty k, we need to deny the other teams the time bonus. It’s potentially a fast run from here down the side of the lake so we need to try to keep a lid on things, the Spanish will be sure to try something, those ten seconds could put their boy in yellow.
Girls, I know a couple of you are particularly worried about tomorrow, just remember the techniques we worked on in Italy. You did well today and I’m sure a lot of the others have more to fear than you. Josh, Jamie, you’ll be running interference for Drew, get him onto the climb in good order, everyone will be helping but you two in particular I want to protect Drew.”
“Foods ready, boss.” Steve mentioned as Mr B paused.
“Okay, we’ll leave it there, Steve and Caroline will talk to each of you this evening so if you’ve any issues tell them, so, eat.”
We were eating al fresco, the Taverna Zwirgi is a typical chocolate box Swiss chalet and we were sat on the balcony that affords views across the valley, Meiringen itself is out of view but the sun was illuminating the hillsides above.
The food tonight started with minestrone soup followed by pork medallions with veg and boiled spuds and topped out with ice cream. Filling if not exactly inspiring. We finished up with coffee; I was just finishing up when my Handy buzzed announcing a new message.
Hi Kiddo Dad said you won 2day – congrats! Enjoy the yellow, Mum.
“Who’s it from?” Mand enquired seeing me reading.
“My mum, I think she’s been riding some crit series in Holland.”
“She win?”
“Dunno, she didn’t say.”
“You should ask.”
“I think Dad’ll know, she’s spoken to him I think.”
“I keep forgetting that it’s your dad over there.”
She might, I can’t. The arrival of another message buzzed my attention.
Hey drew, wr r u guys? Tht wd c u in town 2nite. Ron.
I can’t recall arranging anything.
“Sheesh you’re popular tonight.” Mand observed.
“Roni.” I allowed, “Best text her back.”
Up mtn 4 dnr, hotel not in twn, c u in am, Gab.
Oh bum, why did I put that?
“Drew.”
“Huh?”
“Come on, we’re going,” Mand advised.
A look around the balcony revealed that apart from the restaurant staff, Mand and me were the only BC people left.
“Sugar!” I must’ve been in dreamland.
I scrambled out of my seat and headed after Manda.
“Where’s the bus?” I queried.
“Er just heading up the hill.” Mand offered.
Beep, beep!
“Come on, you two, hop in.” Dad prompted.
In our panic we hadn’t spotted the Mercedes parked off to one side. We hurried over; Caro already occupied the front passenger seat so we clambered into the back.
“Blondes!” Caro chortled.
“Hey!” I complained.
“Buckle up, you two.” Dad instructed.
We set off up the hill and were soon negotiating a series of tight bends and hairpins before the road levelled off some.
“So how did you both feel the day went?” Caro asked.
“I was surprised that the girls attack went so well.” I observed.
“Hey!” Manda complained.
“I think I know what Drew means, Amanda, it was quite a gamble but it worked, we knew the Germans and Swiss would be particularly strong on the climbs,” Caro explained, “now we know just how strong.” She turned to Dad, “You did warn us, Dave, but I guess none of us wanted to believe how good the Grönberg girl is.”
“She’s a monster, when she went I had no chance of hanging on.” Mand admitted.
“We do rip it a bit at home.” I offered.
“Who decided to go for the time bonuses, Drew?” Caro queried.
“Hang tight!” Dad instructed as he swung us into a steep and tight hairpin.
“Whoa!” I allowed.
“Sorry, wasn’t expecting that.”
“Bonuses, Drew?” Caro pressed.
“Guess it was mine,” I admitted, “Mark’s not a bad climber so I reckoned if he got the bonus and finished with the Spanish kid he’d keep the yellow.”
“It was a bold move, the others might have attacked you.”
“It was a chance to take but I reckon nearly everyone was a bit frightened by the pass.”
“I know I was.” Mand put in.
Another couple of tight turns lifted us again before putting us on another pretty level stretch.
“I’m not in trouble am I?”
“No, Drew, you just surprised us a bit, we realised what you’d been up to when you sat up after the sprint.”
“Phew.”
“Any thoughts on tomorrow?”
“Wow some climb!” Mand observed as we approached the next hamlet.
“Not many.” I agreed, peering past her up the mountainside.
“You’ll be coming down it tomorrow.” Dad noted.
The road was steep and narrow, the Merc complained at the gradient but we emerged into a wide and seemingly level valley, forest and rock stretching up wards above the meadows dotted with cows.
“I don’t think the girls will be much help on the climb tomorrow, it’s much steeper than today isn’t it?” Mand mentioned.
“Certainly after this Grindelwald place.” Caroline agreed.
“The main thing will be keeping anyone from taking a long one so we need to keep the pace high so we don’t have to chase too much.”
“I agree, Drew, you might get some help from the Spanish, the jerseys are for us to lose, the Swiss lad is closest, if you don’t score tomorrow and he got maximum points the jersey would be his.” Caro explained.
“So we need to keep ‘super Mario’ in check.” Mand stated.
The road twitched across a bridge before returning to its ascent of the valley.
“How’d we do that?” I asked, “I couldn’t hold him today.” I pointed out.
“Pray maybe?” Caro suggested which caused Dad to chuckle.
“Might help.” Manda allowed.
I just rolled my eyes.
“Guess I need to become his shadow.”
“You’ll have Jamie and Josh helping out.” Caroline mentioned.
“Looks like the end of the line.” Dad stated swinging the car into the car park next to the BC minibus.
The others were already milling about and we soon joined them.
“Right then, as you might deduce this is as far as we can go tonight, according to the manual we’re about four kilometres from the top. Those kilometres might well be decisive, the road’s narrow, steep and the surface isn’t brilliant, normally it’s only open for the Post buses over there.” Mr B pointed to the bright yellow people carriers parked by the restaurant place.
“So first off tomorrow I don’t want to see any heroics coming off the pass, Mr Bond!”
Why’d he pick on me?
“I hope we don’t meet a bus.” Daz mused.
“They’ve got special permission to hold the buses until you are through, the local wildlife could be more of an issue, there are sheep and cattle roaming free up there so be aware please.”
“That snow up there?” Claire queried pointing up towards the mountains.
“Don’t be daft,” Geth scoffed, “it’s August, that’s just white rocks.”
“Don’t you know anything, Gethyn Jones,” Laura put in. “there’s snow on the top of some of the mountains all year.”
“But it’s been like nearly thirty degrees today.” He shot back.
“In case you hadn’t noticed it’s colder up here.”
“Were not that high.” He defended.
“Um, the board says we’re at 1454 metres, the pass today was only a thousand.” I observed.
“How high’s the top then?” Sal enquired.
“A bit over nineteen hundred metres.” Steve told us.
“Shit!” Jamie allowed.
Shit indeed.
“Come on you lot, let’s take a look at the ride down, everyone on the bus.” Boss man instructed us.
What had been a fifteen-minute drive up turned into something like twice that to get back to the restaurant and another fifteen to reach the finish area in Meiringen. Why so long? Well we stopped at each series of bends for a better look. It’s not dissimilar to some of the stuff in Italy we rode last week except the final couple of k’s are super fast! The last bit into the town is a wide main road although there’s a bit of twistiness just before the finish straight.
The light was fading fast, it wasn’t much past nine but the surrounding mountains blocked the sunlight and since dinner it seems to’ve clouded up quite a bit, I hope that isn’t an omen. We drove back to the Hotel Tourist arriving as the first spots of rain started to colour the ground, distant thunder rolled around the mountains, lightning flashed and the rain intensified.
What remained of the evening was ours but to be honest I wasn’t feeling particularly sociable so I headed up to the room I was sharing with Josh. I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling, boy, what a day! The first big climb, and that sprint, what was the margin, yeah, half a tyre now that’s close! At some point I must’ve dozed off as I was woken by Josh returning from the card school that the others had spent the latter part of the evening playing twenty ones or something.
© Maddy Bell 20.01.14
*Chapter 10*
Großes Climbing
I looked out of the window and only after wiping the window did I realise it was pretty thick fog outside.
“I hope this clears.” I mentioned.
“What man?”
“It’s thick fog out there.”
“Fog?” he repeated joining me at the window.
“I guess it’s got time to clear.” I observed, turning away, “Best get dressed for breakfast.”
By the time we assembled in front of the thoughtfully named Hotel Meiringen the fog had lifted somewhat although the sun was having trouble being seen and the temperature, whilst not cold was not particularly warm either. Our two jerseys again earnt us a premier position on the ‘grid’, it was a little surreal to be stood there in the yellow jersey, Josh beside me in the polka flags. The Spanish squad lined up behind us with the Swiss and German teams next in the pecking order.
I waited nervously for the pre race speeches to conclude, anxious to get hostilities started.
“You all right, man?” Josh asked.
“Not really.”
“Me either, never had a GC jersey before, ah feel like there’s a big arra over me ‘ead, like.”
“Tell me about it.” I agreed.
Before we could dwell on that any longer we were waved away amidst a chorus of horns, hooters and clapping. As is usual the first kilometre is neutralised which allows everyone to get clipped in and settled before the hostilities get underway. This morning it also meant that we cleared the level crossings that we crossed after yesterday’s second sprint. We swung onto the main road and lit the blue touch paper.
The road was effectively flat and dead straight for over two kilometres either side of a gentle curve. It wasn’t strong but there was an ever-present headwind and nothing resembling shelter until we turn off – how do I know this? Well we used this road to get to the hotel after yesterday’s stage. As we started to form echelons there was something of a scramble behind us as anyone who hoped to compete on the day tried to get in the leading lines.
Although in theory I’m the protected rider today, that doesn’t mean I intend to just sit in behind the others. So okay, my turns were more symbolic than driving but a show of strength never hurts and the appearance of the yellow jersey on the front of the fast moving rotation will hopefully do a bit of mental bashing on the ‘lower ranks’. Despite the headwind we were bowling along at almost forty kph, all of Team GB were in the first group along with several Spaniards and a dusting of other nations.
We soon swung off at the foot of the Brünig but instead of turning up like we did yesterday, today we took the old road tucked in close to the base of the huge Ballenberg cliff. Although we now lost the incessant wind and the echelons broke up but instead of reforming into one big bunch the race formed several smaller groups with small but discernable gaps between them. The Spanish riders joined us in the pace making as we started the trip along the edge of Brienzersee.
The weather was showing scant signs of clearing up and whilst we could see across the lake, the mountains above remained shrouded by cloud. Once through the scene of yesterday’s victory the road rarely moves more than a handful of metres from the lakeside and whilst not flat it’s a gently rolling route. A couple of times riders tried to escape forcing us to do all the work in chasing them down but with ten of us spreading the work it wasn’t as onerous as it might have been.
One unforeseen effect of these attacks was that the split to the second group had slowly grown from a handful of bike lengths to about ten seconds. By the absence of all bar Paul Innerthausen of the German squad that meant any repeat of Roni’s performance yesterday would be hard work. Looking around the bunch I spotted the Belgian, Michael Desgrange sitting in comfortably, super Mario was there as was Jose – has the selection already been made?
I nodded to Michael who slipped through the bunch to join me on the outside, hopefully clear of trouble.
“We meet again.” He grinned using broken German.
“On your own?”
“You know how it is,” He shrugged, “yellow suits you.”
“It has its drawbacks.” I observed.
“The Swiss, he watches like a hawk eh?”
*
“One of the drawbacks.” I noted. “Without him or the Spanish involved we most likely wouldn’t chase an escape too hard.” I hinted.
“I see.” He mentioned with a curious look.
“I’m told the German rides well.”
“I’ve heard the same.” Michael smiled.
“Later.”
He winked and moved towards Innerthausen.
“What was that about man?” Josh queried.
“A possibility of moving the balance of power in our favour.”
“How’s that like?”
“If the time bonuses and mountains points are taken by riders not in contention we don’t have to work so much, the onus will be on the Swiss and Spanish to try to get something.”
“It has merit.”
“So perhaps we won’t chase down a certain attack in the next couple of k?” I suggested.
“I’ll tell Jamie, you’d best talk to Mark.”
I best had. I slipped forward to where he was shadowing Martinez.
“Mark.”
“Bond old bean, wassup?”
“Bit of a twist to the programme.”
“Attack for the time bonus? They’ll never let us do it a second time.”
“Not us, maybe a certain German and a friend.”
“Hmm, sneaky, even if our friend then got the last bonus he couldn’t move up and I reckon we can prevent that anyhow.”
With any luck we’ll retain our one two on the leader board and the spotty shirt, we just need to prevent the Spaniard gaining more than twelve seconds, Mario has a thirty five second deficit. We can’t be complacent but if Paul and Michael are successful we’ll be in a better place for the final stage – tomorrow we are, so to speak, on our own.
We didn’t have too long to wait, the road started to tilt up a little and both, Paul and Michael sprinted off the front. The Spanish were clearly waiting for us to react as we had on all the previous occasions but we just sat. Super Mario was clearly confused too, constantly watching us, waiting for the first sign of a reaction.
As the road continued up the shallow incline our manufactured breakaway stretched their advantage and had close to two hundred metres before the Spanish decided they needed to react if we weren’t going to. Of course now we did react, sitting on the action and then taking on the chase – except of course we weren’t chasing. The climb through Goldswil finally topped out and we dropped quickly towards Interlaken, swooping over the river and railway tracks on a high bridge.
Josh led us down the ramp to ground level where we started a loop through one of the suburbs prior to hitting downtown Interlaken. The sky above looked pretty ominous; if we don’t see rain we’ll be very lucky. The lads in front were working well together and despite our ‘chase’ were holding their advantage and it was looking like my scheme might actually work.
The exposed route past the airfield had the gap closing but once into the town proper the elastic started to stretch again. The Iberian riders decided to throw their efforts in with ours but a roundabout and tight left-hander hampered the chase. The escapees had about seventy-five metres advantage as we broke into the Höhematte, enough that they were already crossing the line with its bonuses.
Mark took a flier which Martinez followed but starting a couple of lengths behind could only bring one result – a victory for Cav. The Spaniards only remaining chance today is to take real road time out of us, he might have an ally in the Swiss but we are hardly gonna lie down and let them go. Cav’s celebration masked the Belgo – Germanic tandem speeding away through Interlaken’s busy shopping area.
“Nice one!” I grinned patting Mark on the shoulder.
“Just need to keep a lid on them now.” He pointed out.
“We lost the girls winding that up.” I noted.
“Couple of others too.” Mark observed.
“Tempo boss?” Josh enquired as we passed the West Bahnhof.
“If we can keep it steady to the climb then turn it up a bit?”
“We’ll try.” He grinned.
The road dodged back and forth a bit until we reached Wilderswil then whilst well surfaced and quite wide you could feel the road start to climb. The first spots of rain coloured the road as we made our way through the canyon alongside the river carrying the white waters down to Interlaken. We broke from the trees with the escapees still some two hundred metres ahead and the rain starting to persist down.
A road sign announced our approach to the Grindelwald turn and flashing lights ahead located its exact position. So far Super Mario hadn’t really done much today so I wasn’t too surprised when he made a move down the inside as we made the turn. Josh was on his wheel though and although they found twenty metres going out of the turn it wasn’t going anywhere.
The road climbed steadily but not steeply with the river to one side and railway line to the other, the cold waters somehow steaming in the still warm mid day downpour. Our group had shed more riders, Geth amongst them so we were now only a dozen strong. The grade increased as we bypassed Mättli easing slightly before the first serious climbing through Ey.
No one seemed too enthused to attack the climb, the rain already turning the road into a river. It was surprisingly warm despite the wet, enough that I slipped my glasses off and hooked them into my helmet as they kept steaming up. As the road rolled along the valley Paul and Michael could be seen ahead of us, sharing the pace and maintaining their advantage.
We started another steeper section and we got our first real glance at the Mönch / Eiger massif through the clouds that continued to supply us with liquid sunshine.
“We dinna go o’er that?” Jamie queried.
“Flippin’ hope not.” Mark panted.
“This must be Grindelwald, the climb proper starts the other side of the town.” I supplied.
“I thought we were on it.” Mark groaned.
We ascended into the town and each gave a sigh of relief as the road actually dipped slightly through the shopping street. A few spectators waved and cheered from the shelter of the roadside arcades, I noticed a profusion of those damned posters again – at least no one’s likely to connect the half drowned yellow jersey wearer with the girl on the advertising. Our select group swooped through the town but the flatter roadway inevitably turned upward and surprisingly steeply too.
Up out of the saddle we matched each other pedal stroke for pedal stroke, Pellini was certainly comfortable but Martinez lost a little ground although he was quickly back in touch as we entered a series of wide turns that raised us at a slower rate. The sound of cowbells being rung alerted us to something happening ahead; as we made the next turn we were greeted by a sizeable crowd cheering us. Why here? That was answered in short measure as the wide roadway abruptly stopped and we entered a steep upward chute barely a car width wide.
It soon opened out again but the gradient was steeper than down below, the road very much single carriageway as we twisted our way through fields fenced with wire, wood and even dry stone walls. The lads ahead were starting to lose some ground to us as the unrelenting ascent continued away from the smaller fields to more open terrain. That was bad news but the gradual loss of precipitation was good, the clouds previously masking our way ahead now allowing the odd patch of sky to be seen.
Mario kept looking around, if he’s not thinking of making a move I’m a Dutchman. The terrain never let you see more than a few hundred metres ahead as it twisted in a series of wide turns. Up ahead Michael blew and came back towards us unbelievably quickly.
“Go for it, Bond.” He gasped as I passed.
“Keep it going.” I offered in return.
The Swiss made his move on the next steeper section to which I had no immediate answer. He quickly had twenty metres on me before a slight easing of the grade let me draw enough breath to react. I really shouldn’t’ve been but I was a little surprised when Josh came past, offering a wheel to follow.
There had been a few watchers as we climbed but they became more populous the higher we climbed. Herr Innerthausen finally lost his advantage on the next hairpin, Pellini accelerating not just past him but away from me and Josh too – shitza! The grade became less but it was no good, the Swiss rider had timed his effort with perfection and the gap between us continued to grow with each pedal stroke.
Finally we made a turn and a glance upward revealed the Hotel Gr.Scheidegg and to its left the pass summit. We’d taken the German on the previous turn and a quick glance under my arm revealed him doggedly hanging onto my wheel.
“Made it!” Josh gasped.
“‘Bout flippin’ time.” I complained, my legs screaming for a rest.
The crowd at the top cheered and donged as we made the final ascent where I cheekily dodged around Josh to claim the seven points; if nothing else I’d still have the polka jersey tomorrow. I glanced back down the climb, no sign of the Spaniard or anyone else for that matter. Oh well, twelve k to go and it’s all downhill – tally ho!
© Maddy Bell 21.01.14
*Chapter 11*
Rollercoaster
There was a brief respite of almost level road that I utilised to put my race cape on and take both a mouthful of energy bar and a long swig from my heavily depleted bottle – it might be cooler and damper today but you still get through some liquids. Josh and Innerthausen did pretty much the same; the delay of a couple of seconds wasn’t enough to worry about.
“The girls were right, mädchen, you are a devil!” The German stated as we started to roll towards the first of the dozens of turns that make up the descent to Meiringen.
Humph!
“Well let’s not let that Swiss oik beat us to the finish.” I stated.
“Lead on, fraulein.” Paul offered.
Grrr! I looked to Josh who was still puffing from the climb.
“What he said.” My teammate prompted.
If that’s the way it is. I nodded back and turned my attention to going downhill. The first leg took us rapidly to the first hairpin, there was a bit of wash on the exit, hmm have to watch out for that as we go down. Then it was on to a fast if less than straight section towards a tight bend around which I could see our quarry turning, the lead car in view some way ahead of him.
I revved the twelve sprocket until it would go no more, crouching low over the bars, the undulations giving a couple of interesting moments as the speed headed closer to seventy kph – I swear I left the ground on the exit of one dip. Although the road is fairly narrow, the bends have a little more width, tarmac that I needed at that next proper corner as my brakes did their best to get me down to a manageable speed. Out of the corner and try to recover some of the dumped speed, I sensed more than saw the others trailing in my wake.
The next bend didn’t need such drastic braking but nevertheless the speed was down to under thirty by the exit. So far the surface has been reasonable tarmac but I was mindful of the warnings of a less than perfect road on this descent. More revving, cut the apex, brake, drop through the corner, rev – the road moved from the alp into a forest of larch that somehow kept the road surface much wetter than above.
As the road threaded through the trees the gradient increased, crouching forward being replaced by a more rearward weight distribution. A couple of bends then a fast run across a meadow before returning to more woodland and a road surface holding a considerable amount of H2O. The road took a sudden dip and disappeared into a tight left-hander, the surface of which was almost non-existent – shit!
I managed to get enough speed off to make the turn – just; my tyres were almost on the slippery grass verge at one point. The surface was pretty much washed out down into the next hairpin which kept the speed down to the teens for the turn. By the sounds behind, I didn’t dare turn to look; the others were having similar issues.
The forest receded to be replaced by the first signs of habitation since the summit, a farm house across a meadow to the left then the road was confined by at first wire fencing, then as we dropped further, more substantial field boundaries. At least the surface was back to reasonable tarmac now as we dodged this way and that through the fields. Was that the lead car I just saw? Nah, couldn’t be.
Another tight bend around a barn and whoa, I’m heading straight towards one of those post buses! I grabbed at the brakes before realising it was parked and an expectant crowd started to cheer. I corrected my course and recognised the car park from last night – right on!
As the road levelled and straightened I chanced a glance behind, Paul and Josh were still there, not hard on my wheel but certainly close enough to say we were still together. There it is again, I’m sure that’s the lead car. The roads now are mostly well surfaced and wide all the way to the bottom, not only that but drier too, I hope Super Mario hasn’t got too much lead.
I flicked across the bridge before first Josh and then Innerthausen swept past me, I snicked into top and was soon latched onto the German’s wheel. On the narrow roads off the top it was no disadvantage to be a solo rider but on these wider and more open stretches for me at least a small group can make excellent progress. We quickly reached the first pair of hairpins and I think we were all equally surprised to see Pellini only just exiting the lower turn.
Whilst that was quite unexpected so was the figure of Desgrange a similar distance behind us when I glanced back up the hillside. Hmm, this could get interesting. Josh and Paul were now really turning up the steam, my lack of bulk causing me to struggle a little to stay in contact. Down through the next set of bends Michael made contact, the odds of us catching the Swiss immediately improved, especially as his technical descending skills don’t seem that great.
“Didn’t think we’d see you again.” I noted.
“You don’t get out of a promise so easily, Bond.”
“The Swiss isn’t far ahead.” I offered.
“Now that is good news.” He grinned back.
With Michael added to the rotation my contribution became nil, it was a struggle to keep in contact on the steeper bits, I got back on each time they slowed for tight corners but after the Zwirgi hairpins their superior mass allowed them to tail me off as speeds hit seventy kph. Even under braking couldn’t get me back in contact now, hopefully no one else will bridge the gap, particularly thinking of Martinez.
I didn’t see it happen but when we turned onto the main road to drop into Meiringen the others had caught the Swiss. Providing I can stay this close, I guess I’m about five seconds back; I’ll hang on to the yellow, result! Although the road drops towards Meiringen it’s much less steep than the descent from Zwirgi so the others bulk became less of an advantage.
Down past the Hotel Tourist and I was holding the gap then as we approached the turn into the town Innerthausen went for a long one. The Swiss made an attempt to follow but Josh jumped on his move allowing Michael to slip through. I’d lost a few extra metres but there’s still a little over a kilo to the line.
I was eyeballs out chasing, if I can make contact with Josh and Mario by the line I’ll get the same time and not lose any of my advantage. Up into the town and a few spectators cheered us by, we must look a sorry lot, bedraggled, filthy our jerseys covered by a motley selection of race capes. With Michael and Paul a little over twenty metres ahead, there was no way I could bridge the gap before the line but I was within a length of Josh and Mario, job done.
The crowd of watchers over the last two hundred were quite vociferous in their encouragement and I prepared myself for the line. The Swiss made to make a fight of it but Josh matched him taking the line a wheel ahead behind the German and Belgian escapees. I followed through crossing the line with a grin and a raised arm.
Whilst I haven’t made the podium today, I still get to do the drug business and the shattered field were still not all in when I exited the caravan with Josh.
“Ah reckon some’ll be eliminated today, man.” Josh suggested.
“Yeah, I hope none of ours though.”
“Come on you two, let’s get you into some dry togs before the presentation.” Jemma stated guiding us towards the Hotel Meiringen, host to today’s stage.
“All ours in?” I queried.
“Sal is in the bus with about another dozen girls, should be here soon.”
“Bum.”
“They should be okay, your friend got the girl’s category but even she was nearly ten minutes behind you guys.”
“I guess things have blown up a bit today, like.” Josh mentioned.
Paul got the drop on Michael to take the stage, Josh was third at three seconds, although I was a couple of lengths behind they gave me the same time. I’ve retained both my jerseys; Mark has however dropped to sixth having lost over seven minutes on today’s stage. On the other hand Josh has moved to third, Pellini is in second, Paul and Michael now fill fourth and fifth slots respectively but still over a minute in arrears.
“What a day.” Mand moaned. Oh yeah, Mand is now top three in the girl’s event behind Roni and the Swiss girl and a couple of seconds up on Tali.
“It had its moments.” I agreed between pulls on my cappuccino.
“Says the mountain goat.” Jamie noted.
“Youse didna do so bad, man.” Josh observed.
Indeed Jamie finished in the second group just over two minutes behind us but well ahead of Cav and the others.
“I didn’t think you could climb so much in one go.” Sal put in, although she strictly speaking finished outside of the time limit, the judges let all her group of finishers continue – it would’ve wiped out most of the girl’s event otherwise!
“Bloody steep.” Cav offered.
“Both sides.” Laura agreed.
“Yer shoulda seen Drew go down, I didn’t think she’d make a couple of em.” Josh supplied.
“You’re only jealous, yer big girls blouse.” I blustered to try and cover Josh’s slip.
“I dunno how you guys can go down so fast, it was well scary on some of those corners.” Claire stated.
“Practice?” I suggested.
“So how come you didn’t contest the finish, Drew?” Mark asked.
“Apart from getting tailed off? I told Michael and Paul I wouldn’t if we contained that Swiss kid.”
There were several raised eyebrows at that revelation.
“I can see the logic,” Darren allowed, “get them to do the dirty work and reward them.”
“Would’ve been good to win another stage though.” Geth mentioned.
“Don’t be greedy,” I grinned, “we’ve still got the two main jerseys and we’re only a few seconds behind the Italians for the team.”
“You mean you’ve still got two jerseys.” Mark put in.
“Karma?”
Dinner tonight would be at the hotel but we have about three hours to kill beforehand.
“Has everyone brought their dirty kit down?” Caro queried, poking her head into the Stube where we were drinking our coffee.
A round of affirmations suggested we were all on the ball.
“Drew?” she pressed, “I didn’t see your bibs?”
“I thought I put them in.”
“Let’s go look, if anyone fancies a walk, Mr Bond will take you up to the gorge, it’s a nice evening and it’ll do you all good.”
I headed up to the room I was sharing with Josh, “I’m sure I put them in Caro.”
“You did, but I thought you’d like to get your er, vests washed too, I’ve got the other girls’.”
“I was gonna do them in the room tonight.”
“Fetch ‘em out and I’ll put them through with the rest, no one’ll know they’re yours.”
“Thanks, Caro, it’s a bit embarrassing with Josh, well you know, getting changed and stuff.”
I opened the door and we both went into our room.
“But he’s okay with things?”
“I think so, it’s a bit awkward at times but he doesn’t really say much.”
I bet he doesn’t, pretty much forced to share a room with the prettiest girl on the team, what boy would complain? Caroline mused to herself.
“Come on, fetch your bras, we don’t want the others getting suspicious.”
Apart from them being mine I was a little bit more embarrassed as both of my race bras were wearing some er, unladylike stains.
“Sorry they’re so grubby.”
“No worse than the others.” Caro suggested, now come on, your dad’ll be waiting.
© Maddy Bell 25.01.14
*Chapter 12*
Say Aare
It might not be compulsory but Caro’s tone suggested we should all go on Dad’s ‘walk’ so by the time I returned to the front of the Hotel Tourist everyone was stood waiting for the bus to arrive.
“Why couldn’t it’ve been like this earlier?” Laura mentioned.
“It wouldna been so exciting like.” Josh opined.
“I coulda done with a bit less excitement on some of those bends.” I mentioned.
“You should try following you, I reckon you found the wettest bit of road all the way down man.” My roommate complained.
“It was the best line.”
“It was certainly fast.” He agreed.
Dad pulled the minibus round and we all clambered on board.
“Room for one more?” Jemma called over.
“Sure, hop in Jem.” Dad agreed.
The door shut, Dad headed our transport towards the main road.
“Where’re we going Mr Bond?” Mark queried.
“The Aareschluct.”
“What’s that?” I in turn asked.
“It’s a river gorge, you’ll see.”
“Ah think ah saw a brochure for that.” Jamie offered.
Instead of joining the main road we went straight across into a lane that dropped the short distance to the valley floor where we turned right onto a tree lined roadway. After about a kilometre we were confronted by a posh looking building and we pulled into the parking area. We were far from the only visitors, there was even a coach parked up.
“This it?” Mand suspiciously asked.
Mark pointed to the big sign over the buildings entrance, which answered that question; in letters half a meter high was spelt ‘Aareschluct’.
Dad led us inside, “wait here a minute guys.” He instructed.
“Those hotdogs smell good.” Darren mentioned.
“We’re not here to eat fast food.” Jemma observed.
“I was only saying.” Daz defended.
“Come on you lot.” Dad called from ticket booth.
Outside of the building a path made its way across a grassy field with no obvious destination, Dad took the lead and our party set off.
“That girl gets everywhere.” Geth stated.
“Eh?”
“Her.” He pointed to where one of those damned posters adorned a post by the path.
“Er yeah.” I agreed.
Claire gave me a look just short of a giggle.
“You have to admit Geth, she’s a bit of a fox,” Darren put in, “wonder who she is?”
“Probably some model.” I offered in an attempt to deflect the conversation.
“She is very pretty.” Claire added with a grin.
No, don’t go there.
“So what’s she got that I haven’t? Mand demanded.
“I bet she’s a natural blonde.” Dar stated.
Ouch! Manda’s hair has been off the radar for a couple of days, I for one have got used to seeing her with a shock of near platinum hair.
“Whatever!” Mand snapped before stamping off up the path.
“That was a bit mean.” Claire declared.
“I was only saying.” Darren replied defensively.
Hey that’s my line!
“Come on you lot!” Jemma encouraged.
I took a last look at the poster, hmm; wonder if I can get a copy to take home?
The path became squeezed between a cliff and the churning waters of the river, which is where we caught up to the others. Mand was looking daggers at Daz who was squirming under her gaze.
“Okay,” Dad started, “its just over a mile each way through the gorge, there’s a snack bar at the top end where I intend to get a coffee. The path is narrow and can be slippery so take care please, no horsing about, we don’t want anything getting broken eh? We need to be back at this end by seven please, dinners at half past.”
I checked my watch, five past five.
“Everyone okay?”
A round of grunts amounted to as much reply as he was gonna get.
“Right then, times yours.”
“Come on Drew.” Mand tugged at my elbow.
“Er sure.” I agreed stumbling along in her wake.
The path narrowed a bit more before diving into a dimly lit tunnel.
“Can we slow down a bit?”
“Whatever, that boys a pig.” The pace didn’t change and her vehemence varied not a jot.
“I don’t think he meant anything by it,” I suggested.
“Just because she’s natural,” she chuntered on.
“Mand?”
“I’ll give him fox!”
“Mand!” I stopped dead which as she was currently gripping my hand nearly pulled me over but did cause her to swing around.
“Eh?”
“Remember me?”
“What?”
“Will you listen to yourself, its me who should be upset.”
“He didn’t mention your hair.” She tugged at her locks.
“Dur, poster girl, Drew, the same?”
She paused a moment whilst the cogs worked, “come on, the others are coming.”
The roar of fast moving water announced our arrival at the first balcony, an iron railed walkway that led along the cliff side and out over the tumbling waters below.
“Geez, I wouldn’t want to fall in there.” Mand mentioned.
“Looks damn cold.” I observed with an involuntary shiver.
We edged our way along the path, twice having to squidge against the railing for other visitors to squeeze past. I had my camera so I took a couple of pics and managed a selfie with Manda. The swirling waters have cut the rock into fantastical shapes, our position above the flow giving a unique view of things.
A bit more tunnel, more walkway and we emerged from the narrowest bit of the gorge, sunlight picking out a waterspout dropping straight into the white torrent below.
“Looks like someone having a pee.” I grinned.
“Weee!” Mand chuckled.
The path stretched away along the gorge, not level but in a higgledy piggledy series of ups and downs as it clings to the rock face.
“So what was that all about with Daz?”
“He’s a pig!”
“Hang on, you fancy him!”
“As if.”
“You’re blushing, you do.”
“He’s still a pig.”
“Oh come on Mand, he only said my hair was natural, I sort of like yours.”
“Yeah well…”
“Lets face it, he wouldn’t know what to do if ‘Heidi’ was stood in front of him.”
“You’re probably right Heidi.”
“You think I like that he’s lusting over me?”
“The others too most likely.” She suggested.
“Urgh! That is just so creepy!”
“Funny though.” She added with a giggle.
“Come on, I fancy some ice cream.”
“Now you’re talking girl.”
The gorge was surprisingly busy; a constant stream of visitors walked the precarious route causing occasional logjams at some of the narrower parts. Information boards marked points of interest, the wartime bunker, a glacial chute, and spectacular folds in the rock. After seemingly hours though the end of the gorge came into site and the walkway started to climb upwards towards a building perched high above.
“Bleh!” Mand offered sinking into a seat.
“Not as bad as that climb today.” I pointed out.
“Says wonder woman.”
“Mand!” I censured.
“Soz.”
“Whatcha want? My treat.”
“They do tea do you think?”
“Probably, no ice cream?”
“You could twist my arm.”
We’d already got our drinks and were waiting for our ice cream delights, banana split for Mand and some fruit bowl thing for me, when the others started to arrive.
“Not stuffing your face Bond?” Josh enquired.
“A food type is on order.” I grinned back.
“Geez man, you are so predictable.”
“Moi?”
“Aye, youse. One of those big fruit things?”
“What else?” I admitted.
I spotted Darren skulking behind the others.
“You should talk to him Mand.” I whispered.
“Talk to who?“ Josh asked pulling out a chair, “what have I missed like?”
“Girl stuff.” I suggested which raised a snicker from Manda and a snort from Josh.
“Not here right.”
“I was only saying.”
“Girls!” Josh sighed.
“Josh!” we both chorused.
© Maddy Bell 29.01.14
*Chapter 13*
Agony Aunt
The return through the gorge was undertaken as one group, once back at our start point we had literally five minutes in the gift shop before Dad and Jem ushered us out to the bus. The hotel is literally five minutes drive away so by quarter past seven we were back and chomping at the bit for dinner.
“Okay everyone,” Steve made an attempt for our attention, “dinner is a buffet, no, not all salad Mark. We’ll be having a debrief after you’ve eaten then the rest of the evening is your own.”
“Yay.” Laura offered which raised a few titters.
“Get on with it then.” Steve prompted.
We didn’t need telling twice, the walk had certainly raised an appetite and whilst we have eaten since today’s stage, it was a long time ago and a couple of sandwiches and fruit are never going to refuel us.
“Hmm, something smells good.” Sal offered.
“Something looks good like.” Josh added.
Mark and Geth had a bit of a tousle over who got first shot at the banquet but otherwise, for teenagers, we were quite civilised. Buffet it might be but cold it wasn’t, two soup options, a selection of meat in the form of schnitzel, cutlets or steak, veggies, salad stuff and a variety of dressings meant we were certainly not going to go hungry. I loaded a plate with a selection of goodies then had to go back for some salad – look I’m a growing um girl.
“Geez Drew, I don’t know how you can eat all that.” Claire mentioned.
“Wasn’t me that wanted a hotdog before dinner the other night.” I offered in return.
She blew a raspberry, which as she had a mouthful of soup resulted in a bit of a mess.
“Clai…re!” several voices complained.
“Sorree.”
Hungry I might be, pig I’m not so unlike the other lads, well Laura too, I didn’t go back for more chips. There was fruit for dessert and coffee of course so I set myself up with a big yellow thing in a skin and a cup loaded with caffeine ready for the debriefing.
“So,” Dave started, “how do you think it went today? Mark?”
“It could’ve gone better, I lost a lot of time on that climb.”
“Not just you Mark, it was quite a bogey for a lot of riders. Drew?”
“I’m glad it wasn’t any longer.”
“You’ll all be glad to know that you won’t get many Hors category climbs in your careers, Drew, your split from the town to the summit was only about two minutes slower than the leading pro’s managed in the Swiss national tour last year.”
“Nice.” I allowed.
“Amanda?”
“It was all about that climb today wasn’t it, Roni and the Swiss girl have more climbing endurance, I was pretty pleased that I didn’t lose more on the climb.”
“What about the descent, it was exciting enough in the car, anyone have any input on that?”
“Ah dunno how Super Bond stayed upright on some o’ those corners like.” Josh offered, “Ah’ve been racing with him most of the year but today scared the brown stuff out of me.”
“Drew?” Dave prompted.
“I just concentrated on my line.”
“An ahm Lance Armstrong.” Josh scoffed.
“Anyone else?”
“It was quite good fun, all those bends but you do have to concentrate.” Laura opined.
“So as a team we’ve consolidated our position today even if some of us have lost some time. We still have the two main jerseys and first two places in the boy’s race, Amanda has retained her third place in the girl’s event and we now have the lead in the team competition. It’s a strong place to be but its far from over, tomorrows time trial is likely to be decisive.
I know most of you are fair testers but this isn’t the F1 and we don’t have too much clue how most of the competition will fare. Mr Bond has worked on a strategy for our specialists, as they’ll have the advantage of using the time trial bikes. The rest of you will have tri bars on your bikes, Mike & Darren have been fitting them this afternoon, so you won’t be too disadvantaged. You’ll be starting in reverse order so Josh, Drew we should be able to give you some useful splits. Questions?”
There wasn’t really anything more to say.
“Okay then, we need your gear downstairs for nine in the morning, we’ll go to tomorrow nights accommodation, then we’ll use the ride to the start for a warm up.”
“You wanna talk?” I asked Mand as the meeting broke up.
“Kay.”
“Walk?”
“Nowhere private round here.” she agreed.
“At the front in say five minutes?”
“Five minutes.” She really was on a different plain of reality!
I dodged up to the room to find Josh already there and on the phone. I slipped in and started looking for my trainers.
“…Yeah he’s just come in like…aye ah will, so I’ll sees ya at tha weekend, luv to Gran…aye, wiedersehn.”
“Uncle Joe, he said to tell you hi and congrats on the jersey like.”
“Er thanks, so you going to see him?”
“Aye, Da’s on manoeuvres so me Mams off to Gran’s for a few weeks so I’ll be back in blighty until the middle of September like.”
“What about the Worlds, aha there you are!” I pulled my missing footwear from under the bed.
“What about them?”
“You are still riding?”
“Of course, Mam and Uncle Joe are coming too.”
“Cool, for a minute I thought you were gonna flunk on me.”
“Don’t be sa daft man, wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I erupted into laughter.
“What did ah say like?”
“You said you wouldn’t miss it for the world, the worlds.” I chortled.
“And?”
“Miss it for the world – worlds?”
He still looked blank, “forget it, I think we’re driving up.”
“Aye, I forgot your Mam is riding too.”
“Yeah, bummer eh – I’ll be upstaged by my Mum.”
“So what are you up to?”
“Walk with Manda.” I allowed tying my second shoelace.
“I’ll come too, ah need a walk after all those frites.” He enthused.
Bummer!
“What’s he doing?” Mand asked a few minutes later.
“I said we were going for a walk and he sort of invited himself.”
“Great.”
“So which way we going like?” my Toon friend enquired.
“Down past the funicular thing.” I suggested.
Josh set out at a sharp pace, Mand and me intentionally a slower one.
“So?” I enquired once our companion was out of earshot.
“Eh?”
She’s pinching all my best lines, “Darren?”
“Oh him, I dunno do I?”
“But you do fancy him?”
“Well a bit, I mean he’s got that cute dimple and those eyes.” She dreamily supplied.
“Can’t say as I’d noticed.” Look I don’t go round looking at other guy’s eyes all right?
“She says!”
“Not interested, all yours.” Hmm, wonder what Toni’s doing? “Why don’t you ask him out?”
“Don’t be so daft, where’d we go?”
“We’re staying in Interlaken tomorrow night right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I saw a Maccy D’s, you could go for a burger?”
“I guess.”
“Come on you two, don’t wanna get lost.” Josh called back up the road.
I waved back and he set off again.
“Great prawn!”
“But loveable.” Mand chuckled.
“So?”
“Alright, I’ll ask him okay.”
“Could use that other box of dye?” I suggested.
“Nah, he can take me as I am, I sort of like it like this, Mum’s gonna go potty though.”
“Yeah, mine went ballistic when I ended up with blue hair and that washed out in a couple of days.”
“Now that sounds like a story I have to hear.” Mand grinned.
“Them posters are everywhere.” Josh observed as we passed yet another rendition of me hamming it up for the camera.
“I can’t believe no one else has realised its you.” Mand offered.
“They see what they want to I guess, scruffy kid with long hair who rides a bike or ‘Heidi’, the girl with er, big assets, make up and a fancy costume.” I suggested.
“Josh, you tell her, you’ve known her for a while.”
“Well I guess a lot of people do think she’s a girl like.” As if that’s news. “Ah suppose what Drew says is sort of right though, you might think she’s a girl but she does look quite different on the poster, quite a babe.”
“Josh!”
“Sorry man, but its true like, I mean its not that I fancy youse or anything, not that ah don’t like.”
“Josh, stop while you’re ahead mate, I think we know what you mean.” Manda was nearly splitting her sides.
“Do you think they’d miss a couple?” I enquired.
“Ah doot it, they slapped enough up everywhere,” Josh stated, “What you want em for?”
“Thought I’d send one to my Gran and put one up next to my page threes.”
“Ya daft booger, come on there woor some better ones back in the village, I might get one for ma se’en.”
“Boys!” Mand stated, rolling her eyes skyward.
And so it was that we snuck back into the Hotel Tourist smuggling half a dozen copies of the ‘Heidi’ poster advertising the Helvetia Cup. Hey maybe I can sign a couple and sell ‘em on Ebay?
© Maddy Bell 30.01.14
*Chapter 14*
Stage 4
“At least the weathers better today.” Jamie observed as we followed the road alongside Thunersee towards Spiez.
“It’ll be warm later.” I suggested.
Compared to yesterdays grey and overcast start, today was already warmer, the sky almost cloudless, the sun sparkling off of the waters to our right. So far today things have gone to plan, breakfast, departure from the Hotel Tourist, the drive to tonight’s beds at the Hotel Crystal, a quick change and on the bikes for the twenty-five kilometres ‘warm up’ ride to Spiez. We should have plenty of time, Sal, despite being one of our two girl tt specialists is our lowest placed rider overall with only a couple of riders behind her, she’ll be starting about ten to twelve.
Its actually very useful, she’ll be finished a good hour before I start so we’ll have some feedback on whether our climb strategy is gonna work or not. We’ve got dispensation to do a bike swap before we hit the climb proper so whilst Darren is sorting bikes at the start, Steve and Mike will be looking after the bike swap Jem and Caro will be at the finish whilst the Boss and Dad will be looking after things at Spiez. Complicated eh?
So there won’t be any following cars as such, a local motorcycle club are supplying the neutral service and there will be judge’s cars en route. This is the real McCoy, a dress rehearsal for the worlds next week in Denmark – well except for the mountain finish of course.
The start of today’s hostilities was at the Burg Spiez, a bespired and towered affair set in vineyards above the harbour. My start time is just fifteen minutes away so its time to get off the turbo and get into my pre race mindset. Josh will be starting three minutes ahead of me, the top ten all start at this interval just to make things more difficult.
“Have a good un man, don’t catch me too soon.” Josh offered as he climbed off his own steed.
“You too, see you at the finish.”
Darren quickly demounted Josh’s steed to give it a last check over before his start. We were ensconced in a courtyard only a few metres from the start ramp so the continuous blare of the PA had been a constant during our wait.
“Von Deutschland am funf platz, Paul Innerthausen!”
There was some answering cheering and cow bell shaking before the amplified sound of the start countdown, bip, bip, bip, bip, beeeep!
When I pumped the girls for info the other day they all reckoned Paul was a fair triallist, his bogey could well be the climb if yesterday is anything to go by.
I missed Martinez starting as I was utilizing the lav’s but I caught the Swiss setting off to a huge cheer. The word after Sal's ride, she did a creditable 1:24:11 was that the bike change was a goer, a couple of other teams were using the same tactic and it looked to be worth about a minute. I hope I can do a clean swap.
“Von Groß Britannien am zweite platz, Joshua Waugh!”
I mentally counted down Josh’s start, ten… bip, bip, bip, bip, beeeep!
“Come on kiddo, showtime.” Dad stated, “ready?”
“Yup.” As I’ll ever be.
I followed the bike-pushing parent out to the start pen; I was surprised by the size of the crowd, real big race stuff. Dad lifted my bike up onto the start ramp, a platform about a metre and a half above the road with a tent over the top keeping both riders and officials out of the afternoon sun.
“Zwei minuten.” The starter told me as I climbed onto my bike.
The PA crackled into life, “ind ihr letzt Radrennen, im ersten platz von Groß Britannien, Drew Bond!”
I waved to the crowd, which was pretty vocal until the timer called thirty seconds. I rechecked my shoes, pushed my glasses more firmly into place and took a deep breath.
“Fünfzehn…zehn…”
Bip, bip, bip, bip, beeeep!
I stood on the pedals and started possibly the most important race of career so far. Down the ramp into the afternoon sun, a quick acceleration through the crowds lining the start lane. I was barely back in the saddle before I hit the first of several bends, dodge left, right, whistles warned of a sharp left, left again, right, wide into the roundabout, slight rise through a shopping area, more cheering crowds then finally a chance to settle down. Out of the shopping area, through another roundabout then into a slight climb.
I risked a look at my comp, two minutes fifteen, not bad I guess. The buzz of my motorcycle escort changed tone as the climb continued, my breathing still a bit ragged from the starting effort. Soon enough though I was over the top and I was soon clicking up through the gears, my speed rising swiftly to over forty-five kph.
The next two kilometres were down a gentle but determined slope from a surprising height above the lake. Eventually the gift downhill ran out and became about as level as you get as the road took me into greater Thun. Eight kilometres, eleven fifteen, hmm about a mid twenty-two ten, neat.
Of course its still another thirty-seven kilometres to the finish and anything can happen in the next hour or so. The roads today aren’t fully closed, but a big Police presence on junctions and so on means we are getting a clear run through even busy Thun. More whistles, tight right, over one bridge, bridge two, hard right, short climb, right again and I’m heading out of the town.
There is hardly any noticeable breeze as the road slips under the trees, which offer some respite from the sun beating down from the clear blue skies above. Click, up a sprocket and the speed creeps back towards forty five as the road picks up the lake coast. Concentrate Drew, the road is far from straight, dipping first one way then the other preventing any real chance of spotting riders ahead on the road.
Another short out of saddle session through Oberhofen then a corresponding drop around a bustling marina. Of course a time trial is hardly exciting to watch so whilst the spectators along the course have been thin on the ground, they have been very vocal! Eighteen kilometres, twenty six minutes, oh yeah! Bring it on.
The next ten kilometres were fast and flat allowing me to maintain a good even pace as I reached and passed through the midway point. Steep cliffs squeezed the road closer to the waters of the lake forcing it to climb some which in turn dropped my pace by several kph. A direction change had the road dropping towards the lakeside again, hmm, is that a cable car?
It was indeed a tourist transport not a cable car but the Beatenberg – Thunersee funicular – they do like those things around here! The climb beyond the terminus had me back out of the saddle, I hadn’t expected as much climbing before the main event but eventually it levelled again although the road narrowed somewhat. As I passed something called the Beatus Hohe I got a glimpse out over the lake, cool, there’s gonna be a decent drop back to lake level!
After a few interesting twists and turns on a road cut into the cliffs the gradient turned downward and I started to wind things up again to get maximum advantage. Yee ha! Well obviously I didn’t shout it out but I was touching sixty kph when I passed the thirty-kilometre point, forty-four minutes on the clock. The bike change is at kilometre thirty-four and then it’s all up hill.
Of course by the time I reached the turn a kilometre later my speed was back around forty. The road now started a very gradual climb towards Interlaken, not straight but straighter than its been for a while. Hang on, that’s a rider in front, can’t be Josh surely, can it?
Whoever it is I’m catching them steadily if not quickly. The road levelled as it reached habitation and my speed went back up a notch, it was short lived as the familiar whistle blowing announced the next turn, a sharp left hander onto the Beatenberg Habkern road. This is it then, I sprinted back up to forty-ish, any better speed thwarted by the gradient as the road started the climb.
The road levelled a little and I spotted Steve with my other bike, Mike stood ready to take the low profile. I screeched to a halt and almost fell over in my hurry to dismount. Mike grabbed bike one as I crossed to mount the other bike.
“Forty seconds!” Steve shouted as he pushed me along to get going again.
Forty seconds? Up, down? On who? Oh well, no time to waste. It’s about eleven k to the finish and over ten of those are uphill. It was a bit weird being on the road bike after nearly an hour on the low profile with its tight tucked riding position.
Past the Habkern turn and the road dipped a little before crossing a bridge and starting the climb in earnest. There are mountains points to be had today but rather than being on the overall time they’ll be awarded to the fastest climbers from here to Beatenberg, not the finish but the top of the climbing. Its all mine to lose but it also means I’m not the only one under pressure to perform.
I made the first turn and there he was, Josh indeed and only about two hundred in front, either I’m going well or he’s not. The climb whilst steady is pretty steep and the logic of the bike swap was confirmed through the first hairpin, as I was able to hold my pace, now a little under twenty kph. Josh was riding steadily but I had the advantage of him as a carrot, an advantage I would continue to press.
The next hairpin slowed my quarry more than me allowing me to close the gap some before the next interminable grade. Did Steve mean I had been forty seconds down on Josh? It would be about right, I might only be about eighty metres behind him now but I reckon I’m about twenty seconds time wise.
Trees, part of an extensive mountainside forest, kept us shaded from the sun as we ascended; geez is there no let up? I think I was gaining a bit on Josh but it might have been fanciful thinking! The gradient finally broke, oh yeah, it got steeper, not for far but it had me groping for a lower gear of which there aren’t many more.
We returned to a steadier gradient as the road started to twist about more before breaking out of the trees. Some thoughtful individual had put up a ‘five to go’ board, not helpful when you are already struggling. Another pair of hairpins gained a stupid amount of height, come on Drew, not far now.
A group of cowbell swinging watchers cheered us upward, I hope they drove up, that bell is huge! Still the road ground upwards, more variation in gradient but then with a twist of the knife increased in steepness into what is effectively the last but one corner. Josh wasn’t getting any closer now, am I starting to fade?
We were now passing between farms and scattered across the hillside, the road continually rising but at a lesser gradient allowing me to go up a gear. Josh had certainly found his second wind and despite my increased pace continued to stretch the gap. I took a quick swig from my bidon, come on girl, concentrate!
The buildings were soon lining the road and with them a thin crowd cheered us past. I wiped at my eyes, climbing and the warm weather was producing enough sweat to fog my vision. I steadily tracked Josh, I was matching him pedal stroke for pedal stroke now but he was clearly pushing a bigger gear as I was still loosing ground.
My comp suggested we were under two kilometres from the line now and I reckon I was about as far behind Josh now as when I first spotted him on the climb. The buildings thinned before leaping to the right and into another hairpin, the crowds here thicker and more vocal. I gave the short climb my all to find the top of the climb as the grade suddenly gave out to a very slight down slope.
I’d barely got rolling before the one to go kite, last effort. Click, click – up a couple of sprockets, time to really bury myself. Houses and shops crowded the road offering a small degree of shade from the sun. It wasn’t a proper downhill; more level than sloping but it was enough to get my speed heading back towards fifty K.
There was no way I was going to catch Josh now – in fact once or twice I lost sight of him as the road dodged between the buildings. Four hundred metres, the red mist started to descend, lets get every bit out of these legs. Two hundred, one hundred, last effort, out of the saddle – yes! Finished.
I freewheeled and gulped air into my lungs as if it was going out of fashion, braking as I came up to where Josh was slumped over his bars doing a good impersonation of a beached cod. Not that I was any better, we both stood there heaving and trying to get the old heart to ease back long enough for Caro, Jem and Mand to reach us.
“Here Drew, get some of that down you.” Jem ordered thrusting a bottle under my nose.
“Cheers.”
My legs were jelly; I was only staying vertical as the bike was providing some triangulation.
“Great rides you two.” Caro mentioned once our breathing had steadied.
“What?” I gasped.
“One sixteen twenty-five for Josh” Mand offered.
“Und am ersten platz, Drew Bond, Team GB mit 1:14:32!”
The crowd cheered, donged and clapped as I took the top step of the podium. It had been close, Super Mario was just seven seconds adrift and a lad on the Dutch team came in third a further two seconds down. The yellow is still mine but my grip on the spots has gone – I only place seventh on the climb, Josh was a mere three seconds quicker but that was enough for him to outscore the Swiss and move into the premier position!
Of the rest of the team, as expected Manda was fastest girl a little over a minute quicker than Sal and quick enough to consolidate her position overall. The Swiss girl however stomped all over Roni taking the leaders spot in that competition. Geth meanwhile actually beat Josh by thirty nine seconds, the others all did solid rides, Mark actually moved back into the top ten with his effort.
It was close on four by the time we returned to our accommodation.
“Drew?” Dad requested.
“Wassup Dad?”
“Nothing really, I was talking to a woman from the tourist board earlier.”
“Oh?”
“Seems the ‘poster girl’ has been a bit of a hit.”
I can smell trouble coming.
“They er wanted to know if she’d fancy doing another session, I said I’d ask.”
“As if!”
“Up to you, I did tell them you could be a bit camera shy.”
“Am not!”
“They’re sending a car over at half four, I’d best ring to put them off.”
“I could see what they want to do?”
“Best get ready then.” Dad suggested.
© Maddy Bell 01.02.14
*Chapter 15*
Swiss Cheese
“Mand!” silence was the loud reply, “Mand!”
“Who is it?”
“Me.” I hissed back.
“Drew?”
“Yes.”
“Hang on a minute, I was in the shower.”
After what seemed to be an age she slipped the door open a crack, “wassup?”
“I need to borrow some stuff.”
“You had my shammy cream yesterday.”
“Not that sort of stuff, I need a dress or something.”
“OT oh, sounds like trouble, you’d best come in.”
I checked that no one was about and slipped inside.
“Hiya Drew.”
Sugar, I’d forgotten about Claire.
“Er hi.”
“So what’s up Gab? Hot date?” Mand grinned.
“Its alright, I’ll do without, sorry to disturb you.” I headed back towards the door.
“Hey! Drew, Gab, I was only joking.” She hurried to cut off my exit.
“Can I just go? It was a stupid idea anyhow.”
“What was?” Claire asked.
Right, I’ve not actually told them have I?
“You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone okay?”
“Cross my heart.” Claire offered.
“As if?” Manda posed.
“Well the touristy people, they kinda want me to do some more pictures.”
“Cool!” Claire cooed.
“I thought you wanted to avoid anyone finding out.” Mand pointed out.
“I do but like I didn’t think there was any harm in finding out what they want me to do.”
“Okay, but why do you need a dress?”
“Dur, she is a girl.” Claire stated as if that answered the question of itself.
“Well she didn’t start off wearing one before.” Mand observed, “So Gab, why this time?”
“Disguise? I can hardly be seen with them as me can I? Someone’d be sure to recognise me, fan, shit etc? If I meet them as 100% Gaby it should throw them off the trail.”
“She does have a point.” Claire allowed.
“My dresses are a bit fancy for that.” Mand mused.
“I guess mine are too.” Claire agreed, “Hey what if we just made sure there was no doubt you’re a girl?”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Well, we get your er assets on display, I’ve got a lacy cami you can borrow, you got a decent bra?”
“I wasn’t expecting to need one.”
“What size are you?”
“Um 32B.”
“Geez, you look bigger than that!”
“It’s more than big enough.” I sighed.
“Well nothing of mine will fit.” Mand stated.
“We’ll just have to use diversionary tactics.”
“Hang on, I’ve had a thought, I’ll be right back.”
Of course I’ve got a BH, they gave me that one in Luzern on Friday didn’t they? I quickly slipped back to the room I‘m sharing with Josh. It didn’t take long to locate the underwired, half cup affair that has been presenting the girls to Switzerland for the last few days. I stuffed it down the front of my shorts and headed back to the girls.
“Ta da! Lifts and separates.” I grinned pulling it out to show them.
“Well put it on then.” Claire suggested.
Without thinking I dragged my T over my head and repeated the process with my breast compression system – er sports bra.
“Nice puppies!” Claire stated.
Oh sugar, my arms came up to cover myself as I turned an interesting shade of puce.
“Too late now girl,” Manda smirked, “get your bra on.”
“Er yeah.” I agreed.
Ten minutes later I was wearing Claire’s cami and Manda’s pink short shorts and Mand was busy putting my hair into a braid. Borrowed earrings, a dab of slap on the eyes and lips and I was done. One things for sure, I couldn’t be mistaken for a boy looking like this, far too much chest and the shorts leave little to the imagination.
“Here she is.” Dad needlessly stated.
“Well hello again.” The real Heidi offered in German.
“Er hi.” I smiled.
“So, Herr Bond says you are willing to do more modelling for us today?”
“Yes, I quite enjoyed it last time although I wasn’t expecting to see my face on the posters or for there to be so many.” I allowed.
“So how is the race going for you, the mountain climbs are hard yes?”
“Very! I suppose it is going better than I expected.” I guess you could say having the race lead is better than I’d hoped!
“Good, well if you’re up for it we’ve something of a treat in store today.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll explain on the way, so you ready?”
“I guess.”
“When will you have her back?” Dad enquired.
“I think about two hours?” Heidi supplied.
“That’s okay; you have your handy Drew?”
I slid it out of the pocket it was squeezed into, “yup.”
“So Drew, lets go find the camera.”
“See you later Drew.” Dad offered.
“Laters!”
Heidi’s car turned out to be a Smart For Two with lurid graphics for the tourist board, I clambered in and we headed into the town. The place was abuzz with visitors; I took the opportunity to scan the shops.
“thanks for doing this Drew,” Heidi started,”my boss, she comes up with these ideas and expects me to sort out the detail. When she saw the reaction to the race posters she thought you’d be perfect for the next promotion.”
It was a bit weird being called Drew when I’m in girl mode but that’s how we were introduced last week.
“So it’s not for the race then?”
“No, no.”
Phew, at least I won’t have extra exposure in the next day or so.
We made a turn and crossed the river then had to wait for a train to cross the road – not just any train but a German ICE train! It passed through and the barrier went up.
“Great, we can park here.” my companion stated swinging the motorised skate across the road and into a tiny parking slot behind a minibus.
“The others should already be at the top.”
Top? Heidi led the way to the unimpressive building behind us, Harderbahn the sign along the front stated. We climbed up to where a short queue waited, behind the glass a much more modern variant of the Reichenbach funicular was just arriving. Apparently we already had tickets as we were soon seated inside the mostly glass carriage. By the time we started uphill the carriage was pretty well full of expectant tourists all headed for this Harder place.
“So um, what are we doing today?”
“Some typical Swiss things, you’ll see – I never tire of this view!”
We were climbing very steeply and were already high above the town, damn, I should have brought my camera – hang on Handy! Well I did get a couple of pics of the view and a selfie before we slid to a halt at the upper station. Heidi ushered me up the path marked ‘Harder Kulm’ and after about two hundred metres we arrived at a strangely styled building and were greeted by the dresser from Luzern and a guy with several cameras strung around his neck.
“Georg, Rosa, you remember Drew. Drew meet Georg our photographer. So what first?”
“The players are due for six,” Georg supplied, “we can get the rest done before I think.”
“Come on then Drew, lets get you ready.” Rosa prompted, “we’ve got everything set up inside.”
Clearly I wasn’t going to ‘model’ in what I was wearing so it was no surprise to find another landeskleidung for me to wear – not such a fancy thing as last time, no head dress and less embroidery. However it did have a lilac dirndl and the blouse was every bit as exposing of my bosom! Rosa quickly undid Mand’s hairdressing efforts and soon rearranged my locks into a circular braid decorated with real flowers, tiny little things the same colour as my dress.
“Aatchoo!”
“You have the allergy?”
“Er not usually, I don’t generally have real flowers on my head though.”
“Okay, can you put these in?” Rosa handed me a pair of delicate drop earrings with more of the tiny flowers decorating the drop.
I slipped Claire’s gold hoops out and fitted the drops but left Mand’s crystal studs in the second holes.
“Wunderbar Drew, come on, Georg will be tapping his feet.”
I caught a glimpse of myself in a window – boy or rather definitely not boy!
“Ah Drew, the Edelweiss suits you.” Heidi enthused.
“Um thanks.”
“Let’s get started,” Georg prompted.
You don’t need to know every detail; it can be a bit boring and repetitive after all. They had me posing in different places around the restaurant area, I had to pretend to pull a beer and do the waitress thing out on the veranda. Quite a giggle but my face was getting tired from the continual smiling.
The players hadn’t yet arrived so I got a chance to sample the observation platform while I sipped on a coke. Interlaken is about a thousand metres almost vertically below which allows fantastic views over the town but also out over Thunersee.
I think I could see the Hotel Crystal and I’m sure that’s the ICE train in the station down there. The network of waterways showed up as milky grey ribbons dissecting the town – awesome, the whole thing looks like a model railway!
“Come on Drew, time to make your musical debut.” Heidi stated.
© Maddy Bell 05.02.14
*Chapter 16*
What A Swiss!
My minder led me through a small gathering of tourists to where the ‘arteests’ were getting set up. We are not talking guitars, drums and big amps – we are talking Switzerland here, no the four lederhosen wearing chaps were setting up Alphorns – you know the things, metres long and needing a lot of puff.
“Whoa!”
“Impressive yeah?” Heidi grinned.
“Um yeah,” I agreed, “er you weren’t really serious about me playing were you?”
“No of course not, we just want some pictures of you with the players.”
“Phew, for a minute there you had me going.”
“Okay Drew,“ Georg got my attention, “over here please.”
And so the last half hour of Drew, photographic model began. The horn blowers, Matteo, Reto, Roman and Alessio were actually quite a laugh and I think Georg got a lot of candid shots as well as the posed views he was looking for.
“Its not working, you look like you are drinking tea.” Our photographer grumbled as I stepped down from pretending to blow one of the horns.
“Don’t be so hard on the girl, she’s trying hard.” Lessi opined.
“So what do you suggest?” Georg allowed.
“How about I teach her to blow it properly?” Matt suggested.
“In ten minutes?”
“So she won’t be at concert level but enough I think for your photographs.”
“Drew?” Heidi put the ball in my court.
“I’ll give it a try.” Well why not? It can’t be that hard can it?
“Okay,” Georg agreed, “best get started.”
Okay, so it was harder than it looks, I couldn’t get a peep out of the instrument on my first few attempts, it didn’t help that we were gathering a bit of an audience, the boys are giving a concert once we’re done.
“Come on Drew, you can do it, breath from the diaphragm, one and two and blow.”
“Prrr-rrrp!” the horn sounded.
“Yay!”
“Well done girl!”
The crowd called out encouragement, cheered and clapped. I couldn’t help myself; I hammed it up with a curtsey and wave. Now I’d mastered the technique it was a cinch to do a convincing mimed version for Georg’s lens.
“So Drew, how’d you enjoy being a horn blower?” Matt asked.
“Think I’ll leave the real blowing to you guys.” I allowed.
“I’ve an idea,” Lessi put in, “how about Drew joins us for the overture?”
“Don’t be so daft!”
“I’m serious, you only need to do the one note, we’ll do all the fancy stuff.”
Ret and Roman grinned their agreement.
“Go on Drew,” Heidi encouraged, “you know you want to.”
I do?
“One note?”
“Sure, a long one but just one.”
“Go on then.” I agreed.
The overture of course was the Willem Tell as used by the post buses and the national TV channel to start the day. The guys got ready, Matt was supervising the guest blower, Ret gave one long note on his horn to quieten the audience then the concert began. Georg wasn’t letting any opportunity go to waste and was filling his memory card up throughout the rendition.
I really am no musician; I usually ended up with the triangle in music lessons and my input this evening was on the same level. How these guys manage to rest a tune out of these things I’ll never know but somehow they do.
“Coming up Drew.” Matt whispered.
I took a deep breath and watched Matt’s hand as he counted me in, three, two, one, “prrr – rrrr - rrrp!”
I blew for as long as I could, the note fading off as I ran out of puff.
The crowd were very appreciative and generous in their applause, we all stood back and I joined the guys in taking a bow.
“Best get you back to your team.” Heidi mentioned a few minutes later as the horn blowers got on with the concert without one note Bond.
“Yeah.” I agreed.
Inside Rosa helped me out of the dress, returned to my borrowed shorts and top I felt quite exposed.
“Take care girl.” She offered.
“And you, tschuss!”
“Gruß!”
Back outside I looked around for Heidi but a yell caught my attention first.
“Gabeee!”
“Ron?”
“Dur, who else?” my friend enquired crossing the couple of metres between us.
“What you doing here?”
“Sightseeing, cool horn blowing by the way.”
“Um thanks.”
“So what happened to the whole country wench look? Looks cute on you by the way.”
The perishing C word again.
“Not mine, I’ve been modelling for the tourist board. The others here too?”
“Somewhere, Tali wanted a drink so they headed to the snack bar.”
“So where are you staying, we’ve got some place near the Bahnhof.”
“We hit pay dirt, we’re in a big four star place near the bottom of the Bahn here.”
“Nice.”
“Hey, you fancy meeting up later?”
“We’re supposed to have some down time after dinner,” I allowed.
“Bring the other girls, we can have a girly night.”
“I’ll call when I get back.”
“Ah, there you are Drew,” Heidi mentioned, “lets get you back to the Crystal.”
“Okay,” I agreed, “laters Ron.”
“Laters!”
“Friend?” Heidi enquired as we set off down the path towards the Berg station.
“Yeah, we are on the same team at home in Germany.”
“So she is here for the race too?”
“Uh huh.”
“Ooh, come on quickly, there’s a car just arriving!”
We caught the downhill train and were soon back in Heidi’s colourful little Smart heading back to the team hotel.
“Thanks for doing this Drew.”
“I enjoyed it, even the horn.”
“It’s been a bit short notice to sort out,” she allowed, “we’ll sort you out some payment, its okay to talk to Herr Bond about that?”
“Sure, um could I ask a favour?”
“I can try.”
“Well I was wondering if I could get copies of some of the pictures?”
“Ah, of course, I’ll talk to Georg. Here we go, Hotel Crystal.”
“Thanks Heidi.” I mentioned climbing out of the motorised skate.
“No, thank you Drew. Take care, I have to dash, Rosa will be waiting at the Talstation for me, I think she has a date later.”
“Bye!”
“Tschuss!”
I slipped my handy out to check the time, bummer, five past seven, I’m late for dinner. I was about to go straight through to the dining room when I was brought up short by the girl coming towards me, phew, it’s a mirror, oh sugar! I need to change and lose the hair – I hadn’t thought about that when I was up at Harder Kulm so the flowers were still adorning my braided hair and the boobs I spend most of my time hiding are spilling out of my top.
I made a swift about turn and made a swift ascent to my shared room, key, oh bum, still in my shorts in the girls room.
“Thanks Mand.”
“You owe me.”
“Sure.” I agreed. A call on her mobile had summoned assistance; at least I’ve been reunited with my own stuff.
“I’ll say you fell asleep, Josh was with Mark and Jamie so he wouldn’t know.”
“I won’t be long.”
“Yeah Bond, I’ve heard that before.”
Dinner was back to pasta, cheese and ham gnocchi with what I now recognise as a Milanese sauce. Doesn’t sound that great but there was plenty of it and with ice cream to follow it filled a good hole.
“So, did you ask him?” I queried while we waited for the coffee to arrive.
“Yup.” Mand allowed remaining tight lipped.
“And?” I pressed.
“Yess!”
“You been wearing earrings Drew?” Sal asked.
“No!” I replied maybe a little quickly, “why?”
“Your ears look a bit red, mine do that when I’ve not had anything in for a bit.”
“Mine too.” Claire agreed giving me a wink.
“Oh by the way,” I tried to turn the conversation, “I spoke to Roni earlier, we’re invited to meet up later?”
“Better than watching Swiss telly.” Laura offered.
“What about the guys?” Sal queried.
“What about them?” Claire countered, “I’m sure they can find something to do.”
I know one who already has!
“People!” Dave waited until he had our attention, “I won’t keep you long tonight, we’ll have a pre race meeting in the morning to discuss tactics, your coaches are still undecided on that. Firstly then congratulations to everyone, I know today was difficult but you all did excellent rides, no one dropped any places, Mark great ride to get back in the ten, Sally you set a good target for the girls.
We’re more relaxed tomorrow, we start here in town so no repeat of this mornings rushing about. We will go for a leg stretch after breakfast so you will need to be packed and ready to ship when we get back. Not too late tonight please, you’ve all done yourselves proud so far so lets keep it that way eh?”
© Maddy Bell 06.02.14
*Chapter 17*
Beau Rivage
“You coming Daz?” I strongly hinted.
“Er yeah sure.” He agreed.
“Josh?”
“Coming man.”
We were meeting the girls outside the mall opposite the Bahnhof, no point embarrassing the lovebirds at the hotel. Of course most of the tourists are long gone by now, only overnight residents are left to prowl the streets.
“Looks like it might rain like.” Josh suggested while we waited for the ladies.
“It’s been too nice today for rain.” Darren offered.
“Ah tell ya, ah can smell it like.”
“Next you’ll be smelling currywurst.” I proffered.
“Hey guys.” Claire called over as the female contingent arrived.
“So which way?” Laura queried.
“Down to the roundabout then along the main drag.” I supplied remembering the way Heidi brought us this afternoon.
One or two shops were still open despite the late hour, not that we lingered long to look inside. It wasn’t far – well nowhere in Interlaken is far really, to the home of Ronald in the town.
“We’ll um, just get a burger.” Mand offered dragging Daz towards the door.
“Laters guys.” Laura mentioned with a twinkle in her eye.
“Gis a call when you’re headed back Drew.”
“Sure, no kissing now you two!”
“Drew!”
I scooted after the others who were already some distance up the road. Was that thunder? A second loud clap confirmed the diagnosis.
“Ah said it was gonna rain.” Josh mentioned as the first wet spots coloured the pavement.
“Come on, its not far.” I encouraged catching up to them.
Whilst still fairly warm the light had quickly dimmed and cars were already switching their lights on. We were caught in the open when the rain really broke, with no immediate shelter to hand it was a case of leg it or get soaked where we stood. The good news was that after a bit of doorway hopping I could see our destination maybe another hundred metres along the street.
“Gee-zuss!” Claire exclaimed.
“I guess we drew the short straw.” Laura added.
The Beau Rivage is certainly in a different league to the Hotel Crystal, a grand hotel of the Belle Epoch.
“Come on, we can do it in one from here.” I opined.
“Race youse then.” Josh challenged.
“If you insist.” I offered as I set off.
“Why you…”
I’ve said before that I’m not much of a runner so it’ll come as no surprise that not only did Josh beat me to the hotel’s entrance but Laura and Sal too – I’m sure if she hadn’t lost a sandal Claire would’ve arrived before me too. I’m just not built for running okay!
“What kept you shorty?” Josh mocked as I arrived panting.
“Thought you ought to win something.”
“Twice in a day, you’re losing your touch double O.”
“Double O?” Sal queried.
“The names Bond, Drew Bond, licensed to race.” Josh announced in a very poor Sean Connery.
“OO7.” Claire stated.
“Or in Drew’s case OO3½!” Laura suggested.
“Oi, I am here when you’ve done.”
“Hark, was that a voice I hear?” Josh hammed.
“Come on, let’s find the girls and get dried out.” I proposed.
The entrance area was huge, all mirrors and sofas, I led the way towards the reception desk.
“Um, excuse me?”
I’m sure the receptionist had watched us come in but she finished whatever it was she was doing before looking up to be greeted by a handful of damp teens.
“How can I help?”
“We erm are meeting some friends that are staying here?”
“Indeed, name?”
“Drew Bond.”
“Not you yer dummy.” Josh informed me.
“Oh right, sorry, Grönberg, Roni Grönberg.”
“On the German cycling team?” Josh added.
“A moment please.” Snooty stated before turning to consult her computer terminal.
“Flippin’ posh this, I feel well scruffy to be in here.” Laura mentioned.
“Hey Drew, over here!”
I looked around and spotted Ron at the entrance to a big lounge area.
“This place is well cool.” Claire mentioned when we reached our hosts.
“Our rooms are in the attic.” Gret advised.
“Ewww, get a room you two!” Laura suggested as Tali and Josh started exchanging saliva.
“Don’t encourage them.” I giggled.
“So um, what are we doing then?
“Coffee?” Ron suggested.
“Sure.” I agreed.
“Thought you would.” Greta observed.
“There some loos?” Sal asked.
“Loos?” Ron queried, her English is okay but doesn’t run to colloquialisms.
“Toilets Ron.” I translated.
“Oh sure, out in reception.”
“Thanks,” Sal allowed, “ladies?” She suggested to the others.
Laura and Claire joined her for the trip, I still don’t get the whole can’t go on your own bit!
“Come on Gabs, you can help me with the coffee.” Ron ordered as the girls headed off.
“Jawohl mein Kapitan!”
“Give over Gab, so where’s my shadow?”
I guess she meant Mand.
“Hot date in Maccy D’s.”
“Do tell.” She pressed as we waited at the bar.
“Daz, Darren on our team?”
“Pah, boring, I thought at least that dishy blonde Italian.”
“Think she’s been lusting for a week or two.” I supplied, “those two are really going at it.”
“What is it the English say? They are in lurve.” Ron chuckled.
“Ladies?” the bar person enquired.
“Er hi, can we have coffee for eight please.”
“Sure, I’ll bring it over, you are by the window?”
“Um, yes, thanks.”
Errand complete we headed back to the seating we have commandeered.
“He’s a bit of a dish.”
“Roni!”
“Was only saying.”
The coffee arrived; Josh and Tali actually put each other down at some point and beyond the glass the rain finally ceased.
“We going for a walk?” Gret suggested.
“Could do,” I granted, “guys, walk?”
“Sure.” Laura agreed, “not really seen much of this place.”
Five minutes later we were walking through the bit of park opposite the hotel, it was still reasonably light but by the time we reached the railway station it really was starting to fade so rather than wander along in the gloom we made our way into the station. Railway stations are fascinating places, people coming and going, trains heading to exotic locations and Interlaken Ost Bahnhof has to be well up there.
“That looks well cool.” Sal noted looking at a big poster on the station wall.
“Jungfraujoch, top of Europe.” Claire read out.
“Bit of a boast.” I suggested.
“You guys never read anything like?” Josh enquired, “You go up inside the mountain to get there.”
“How do you know Joshy?” limpet Tali asked from his elbow.
“Ah just read the leaflets like.”
“Its expensive, a hundred and fifty Swiss Francs.” Ron observed.
“Well that’s me out.” Laura stated.
“Like we were gonna go.” I noted.
“Just saying.”
“We should probably head back,” Sal suggested, “its nearly half nine.”
“Yeah, I need to pack tonight.” Claire added.
We were nearly back to the German’s accommodation when Gret spoke up, “anyone fancy some frites?”
“And just where are we gonna get some, Maccys is down the other end of town.” I supplied.
“Dur!” Gret pointed to a brightly lit shop almost opposite the hotel.
“Lets do it.” Claire grinned.
Hygenic Fisheries* it wasn’t, but about as near to a real chippy I’ve come across since we moved to Germany. So okay they didn’t do fish but you could get kebabs, sausages, schnitzel and even some pie type thing but unlike a chip shop its all cooked to order. I succumbed to a kebab with my fries, Josh had a bratwurst and everyone else just did the potato sticks.
Tins of carbonated water washed the salty delights down, I think everyone enjoyed the impromptu feast and it was with some reluctance that we vacated the snack shop.
“Catch you tomorrow.” I mentioned.
“No mountains at least.” Tali noted.
“Yay.” Sal chirped.
“See you.”
“Night girls.”
“Put him down Tal!”
“Bye!”
“Tschuss!”
We watched Ron and co head back to the Beau Rivage before starting the walk back to our own accommodation at the other end of Interlaken.
* The fish and chip shop in Warsop.
© Maddy Bell 07.02.14
*Chapter 18*
Durndle
“Where’ve you guys been?” Mand demanded when we met up with them by the entrance to the Kursaal.
“Nowhere really.”
“We thought you’d be back ages ago.” Daz noted.
They were at least still talking to each other.
“So what’ve you guys been up to?” Claire enquired with a smirk.
“Nothing.” Mand quickly replied.
“We should get back.” Laura mentioned.
“Oh shit! It’s nearly half past ten.” Sal wailed.
It might not be that far but it still took us another fifteen minutes to get back to the hotel and any ideas we might’ve had of slipping inside unnoticed were dashed when we spotted Caro and Steve standing guard in reception.
“We were getting ready to send out a search party.” Steve informed us.
“We didn’t mean to be so late,” Laura offered, ”the time just went.”
“Dare we ask where you were that caused such a time vortex?”
“Huh?” Sal managed.
“We were with the German girls, at their hotel.” Claire supplied.
“Get yourselves inside then,” Caro suggested, “breakfast at eight.”
Phew, no real censure, I thought we were in for it.
“Drew? A moment please.” Caro requested.
Bum!
“Er sure, night, guys.”
“Night, Drew.” Mand replied.
“See youse up there, man.” Josh added.
Steve followed the others inside leaving just Caroline and myself outside.
“So what’s up?”
“I gave your Dad your—um, chest supports.”
“Thanks.”
“Everything okay?”
“I guess.”
“You’re in a good position for tomorrow.”
“I suppose, I guess it’s mine to lose.”
“Let’s hope not, your dad told us about your latest ‘modelling’ assignment.” She hinted.
“I’m not in trouble am I?”
“No, Dave cleared it but you are giving us a few firsts on this trip; life’s certainly never dull when you’re around, Miss Bond.”
“Um…”
“Go on, scoot – give ‘em hell out there tomorrow, eh?”
“I’ll try.”
I left Caro outside, some excuse about checking on our little fleet of vehicles, and went inside.
“Fraulein?”
Hmm
“Hallo? fraulein?”
I glanced round, no one else here, I shrugged.
“Fraulein Bondt?”
Sugar, I turned around and spotted the source of the voice, a chap stood behind the reception counter. How does he know my name?
“Er yeah?”
“There is a delivery for you, a moment please.”
“Okay.”
Delivery? I’ve not ordered anything and like if I had why would it come here? The concierge returned a moment later with something covered with one of those bag things you get from the dry cleaners.
“Here we are, miss.”
“Er this can’t be mine, I’ve not ordered anything.”
“You are with the rad team?”
“Yes.”
“For you alright, here, the label – Drew Bond, Team GB, C/o Hotel Crystal.”
“Well I guess that’s me alright, do you know who left it?”
“Sorry, I only came on duty at ten,” he shrugged.
“Okay, thanks.”
“Good night”
“Er nite.”
I took charge of the bag and headed up the stairs to our room.
“What took you, man?” Josh enquired as he let me in.
“Caro wanted a word then I got caught in reception with this.”
“Sending youse laundry out?”
“Be daft, no idea what it is.”
“You could look?” he suggested.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I replied flatly.
I laid the bag on my bed and unzipped it, “What the…”
“What is it, man?”
I moved to one side so he could see, there in all its glory was the outfit I wore earlier for the photo shoot.
“A dress, man?”
“Looks like it to me.” There was an envelope pinned to the bodice addressed to ‘Drew’.
“Who’s it from then?”
“Gis a sec.”
I opened the brief and pulled out the note inside, dropping something on the floor.
Dear Drew,
Thanks for helping out at such short notice today, Georg got some great shots and you were quite a hit with the horn blowers! I’ll send the pictures on but in the meantime we’d like you to have the Kleid and earrings – the colour suits you so well and we won’t use them again.
Good luck with your race
Heidi.
“These dropped out, so what’s the crack like?” Josh pressed handing me the dropped earrings.
“I remember now, I’d forgotten with everything the last few days, it’s a present for Jules, ordered it in Luzern.” Well I’m not gonna admit the truth – he might know about Gaby but he doesn’t know everything.
“Nice colour.”
“It was cheap.” Well I don’t suppose it was but he won’t know that.
“Ah shoulda got something for Tali, like.” He mused.
“I don’t think she’s that into dresses.” Think Tali, think skater gurl rather than princess!
“Still.”
Maybe I really ought to get Jules something?
So remind me,” Jamie started, “just why are we going out this morning, aren’t we riding far enough later?”
“Get the legs loose.” Mark opined.
“We did have a fairly easy day of it yesterday.” I noted.
At least today was looking better than last night, it rained again after we got back but this morning it’s clear blue skies with just a few wispy bits of cloud up around the mountain peaks. The girls and Caro left a few minutes ago, we’re waiting for Dad to come round with Steve and the Merc.
Beep, beep!
“That’s us.” Josh noted, pushing off to join the road.
We took the same road that the stage took two days ago to exit Interlaken, without the pressure of competition we could appreciate it a bit more.
“What d’ya reckon, Mark, ‘nuther stage?” Daz suggested.
“Be nice.” He allowed.
“Got to get to the finish first.” Geth pointed out as we crossed over the autobahn before dropping into Wilderswil.
“Let’s hope no one gets too clever, like.” Josh mentioned.
“So, boss, what’s the plan?” Mark queried.
Boss, that’s me on the road. I know what I’d do if it was a one day race, attack after an hour, hope to break the rest then team [or time?] trial to the finish. But this isn’t all about just me, yeah I’ve got the yellow but we need to protect the spots too, hold on to the team classification and yeah, the stage would be nice, too. The stage is a little bit like Saturday – no real climbs, like Saturday the one intermediate sprint doubles as the KOM for the day too.
“We need to make the selection fairly early, let the others do the work.”
“So ye’ll be wanting us to attack?” Jamie queried.
“Bit of a suicide mission, the success rate isn’t high.” Mark supplied.
“I wasn’t meaning for you to go.”
“So how do I get the stage then?” he started to get a bit irate.
We were through the village now and starting on the climb through the gorge.
“If we can get two or three away without the other contenders it’ll give us two shots – if they stay away the mountains and time bonuses get mopped up and there’s a shot at the finish. If there’s a reaction we still take care of the first but with luck we still get a go at the finale and have extra shots at it.”
“So who goes like?” Josh enquired.
“Everyone except me and Mark.”
“Woo-eee!” Darren let out, “some gamble.”
“We’ll be wide open.” Mark noted.
“Maybe less than you think, the Germans and Belgians will help out I think, I was talking to Roni last night, she’s keen to have a go today so Mand will follow which will boost the escape group, the others will run interference in the bunch which is to our mutual benefit.”
“There’s a lot of ifs there.” Geth observed.
“When isn’t there?” I replied with a grin. “So?”
“Last day, do or die.” Daz stated, “I’m in.”
“Aye, coont me in.” Jamie agreed.
“Geth?”
“Like Daz said, nothing to lose.”
“Mark?”
“I’d prefer a better shot at the finale but what you say has some merit, okay, count me in.”
Josh gave me a nod, now we just need to put it into action.
© Maddy Bell 10.02.14
*Chapter 19*
Cheesy
We were approaching Zweilütschinen where we turned off for the climb the other day but today it was dry and we were staying in the main valley. A couple of coaches passed us but otherwise there wasn’t too much traffic, maybe a little early still for most tourists. I dropped back to the car to talk to the coaching team.
“So,” Steve queried, “what’s the verdict?”
“They’ve gone for it, Mark was a bit reluctant, it is high risk.”
“You don’t win anything by being timid.” He pointed out.
“I still think we should keep it together.”
“That’s what the others will be expecting.” Dad called over.
“I guess.” I allowed.
When Steve and Dad suggested it to me earlier I was dead set against it but Dad wouldn’t promote a dummy, he might not be on the bike but he’s as competitive as anyone I know.
“Here,” Steve passed me a bottle, “after the village I want a fast rotation up to the end, Caro and the girls’ll be waiting for us.”
The road twisted about a bit and got somewhat steeper then in a final sweeping climb we were spat into Lauterbrunnen. We picked our way through the wandering tourists around the overlarge railway station then dropped through a couple of interesting bends before the road returned to a more level aspect. The valley isn’t particularly wide but it is deep, the road was still in shadow and damp from last nights rain although the sun was glittering on the waters falling in a single drop down the opposite wall.
We quickly got the rotation going and soon had a steady forty K going which we held for about four kilometres at which point the gradual climb became more insistent – not steep but steeper. The road narrowed and made a last uphill gasp before the road ran out into a car park cum bus turning area; the girls were stood at the minibus by the Hotel Rütti.
“What kept yer?” Claire called out as we drew up.
“Went the long way, like.” Josh told them.
“Ha de ha.” She retorted.
Caro was already handing out energy bars while Jemma distributed bottles – by my reckoning we’ve done all of twenty kilometres but it has been mostly uphill.
“Okay everyone,“ Steve tried for our attention, “we’ll head back in a minute or two but Caroline and myself, well we’re dead proud of all of you. We probably won’t get much opportunity to say anything later so we thought we’d do it now.”
He paused and looked at each of us before going on, “I must admit that when the Boss outlined his hopes for you lot, I and I know Caroline too, had our doubts as to what we could achieve. We’ve got a history of turning out one or two talents every few years but we’ve lacked consistency and any real plan of progress for the road riders. You lot have shown, especially the last couple of days that with the right nurturing we can get the results and improvements we’d like.
“Before the race started one of the coaches with another team told me that Team GB were basically dismissed by most of the core cycling nations as no hopers who occasionally throw up a wild card. Well I think it’s fair to say that you lot have overturned that view, so okay this is just one event but the talk now is about how to beat you lot. Roskilde next week is a one day, do or die so the tactics will be different but I’m confident that whilst getting on the podium may be a stretch its not the pipe dream I would’ve thought a couple of months ago.
“Okay then, let’s get back to Interlaken and teach these foreigners a lesson or two in bulldog spirit!”
After Steve’s impromptu little speech we quickly sorted ourselves out and with the girls leading off started our downhill journey. We were quickly riding piano and it seemed to take no time to reach Lauterbrunnen again, the climb into the town a rude awakening after several kilometres of almost flat. Once clear of the busy centre we were soon speeding down the steeper and wider road back towards Wilderswil and Interlaken.
Where the climb up had been a fairly leisurely affair the return turned into a high-speed chase back down the valley. As it flattened out the nearer to Wilderswil we got, the speed dropped and we once more became a single entity. The last couple of kilometres were under our wheels in less than ten minutes.
The start of today’s stage is on Höheweg, what you might term the main drag where all the posh hotels, restaurants and shops are located. Only on one side mind, wouldn’t want to spoil the view towards the Jungfrau would we? For now though the usual stop start traffic was banned, the road given over to the start of the Helvetia Cup stage five. It’s actually the same spot that the intermediate sprint was on stage three.
A quick text had primed Roni with our plan; the answering ‘ok’ was enough confirmation that we wouldn’t be alone in our attack. And now we’re here waiting for the speeches to be over. Of course Team GB is starting at the front again, useful indeed with today’s plan of action over the 100 plus kilometre, almost four-hour stage.
“So without further delay, Obermeisterin.”
“Good luck and a safe ride!” the lady Mayoress waved us off and our last day on Swiss roads was underway.
It was of course a neutralized procession through central Interlaken and into the Altstadt. We covered the first leg in reverse yesterday in the time trial and it was where we turned to Beatenberg that the lead car swapped the flag from the green check to the similar black bordered deneutralized affair before accelerating away from us. With a warming day and no significant climbs no one would be too interested in much action for the first hour so we were left to drag the rest of the peloton out into the Swiss countryside.
That’s not to say there wasn’t any rider movement, the Germans moved forward as well as a few others who needed to keep an eye on things. We swept onto the Thun road and we put plan A into action – Josh and co as expected sat on the front but Mark and myself allowed a bit of a gap to form. It wasn’t enough for immediate alarm amongst the opposition but when things kick off shortly it might prove crucial.
Of course where we dropped down yesterday today we climb, a perfect opportunity to let the elastic stretch some more. The watchers were um, watching for the yellow and whilst clearly not in any difficulty I was studiously ignoring the several lengths between Jamie’s rear wheel and me. Roni came through, Paul paying close attention, Mand slipping in with the Swiss girl, Toli Schötte.
The road twists about as it climbs towards the Beatushöhe and the ‘break’ driven by Josh started to turn up the pressure. Roni and her entourage drifted off the front too as Mark and I let our pace drop a tad – not enough to cause alarm but just enough that the leaders’ advantage started to stretch.
“Easy day today, English?” Super Mario suggested from my shoulder.
“No point in wasting energy, it’ll come down to a bunch sprint anyhow.”
“Ja, I think your team are more racing today than you, eh?”
“They’d need to make up a lot of time to be in contention.” I offered.
“Maybe saving energy for the final is not such a bad idea.”
You bet your Swiss butt on it!
Roni and co made contact with the leaders in fairly short order and a relaxed bunch let them get on with it. Over the next couple of kilometres their advantage stretched enough to bring in the neutral service but still no one seemed very interested, there’s still over ninety kilometres to go after all. The ride up the lakeside was quite pleasant, the thirty-five kph tempo quite comfortable, especially with a couple of German riders helping to share the pace.
I guess Herr Pellini finally realised that Josh and the mountains classification were disappearing up the road away from his grasp but not until we were nearly in Thun. One minute we are enjoying a relaxed ride, the next everyone is fighting to get on the back of a Swiss train suddenly looking very businesslike.
“Well I guess that’s plan A done for.” Mark mentioned when things settled a little.
“Wouldn’t bet on it, it’s less than fifteen k to the points, I don’t reckon the Swiss can keep this going too long and no one else seems too keen on helping.”
“I know Josh and that German kid can handle themselves, not so sure about the others.”
“It’s a gamble,” I allowed, “worse case scenario we don’t get a train to the line.”
By the look on his face he was still more than a little pissed at the tactics we’ve adopt for today, not my fault, honest Mark.
The break had certainly made great use of the lethargy behind; with Josh driving things they’d amassed a seven minute lead and were already starting the climb of the Schallenberg.
“Reckon we’ll go all the way?” Daz asked.
“Maybe,” Josh allowed, “get over the climbs and there’s a chance but they’ll have the advantage especially if a few teams get together.”
“It’s a pity this is the last day,” Jamie offered.
“Why’s that?” Geth puffed.
“Just getting the hang of these climbs.”
With five Brits in the group it was obvious that they’d do the bulk of the work but the others weren’t shirking either. They were at Wachseldorn, a little less than four kilometres from the summit before the status quo was broken by Toli Schötte, the Swiss girl making an escape attempt. Roni had to reply, her minder was quick to assist and soon the Team GB quintet were on their own.
“I thought you said they couldn’t keep this up.” Mark complained.
“At least we’re getting a freebie.”
In fact the leaders advantage was coming down quite rapidly but I still doubted we’d make contact before the summit. The climb itself had so far been pretty steady, only after Brauchern did things get more physical but even so it wasn’t excessively steep. The pace dropped some and the already stretched bunch started to shed riders including Sal, disappointing for her but as she has a deficit of over forty minutes over Roni it’s not the end of the world.
The Swiss were certainly tiring and Mario took up the reigns himself as we entered Wachseldorn, the break still out of sight. Just to rub salt into the wound one of the Italians made a break for it, accelerating past the frustrated Swiss rider.
“Tougher than I thought.” I supplied as I climbed now alongside Super.
“Hmmm.”
“Nice day though.” I added lightly dancing on the pedals as we made the first hairpin turn.
The points and bonuses at the summit weren’t going to change anything in the girl’s classification and the points Josh added to his total only consolidated his position in the KOM competition. Things came together again on the descent and by the feed at Meiegrün things were settled again and a complete upset was a distinct possibility. Certainly as things stood Josh was yellow jersey on the road but only by a mere handful of seconds.
“Five thirty!” Caro shouted as I collected my musette.
“Sal’s off.” I replied.
I quickly stowed my supplies so I could lose the bag in the drop zone.
“How much?” Mark queried.
“Five an’ a half.”
“Could be enough I guess.”
I knew how he felt – it’s alright doing this team thing but I wanna win, me not someone else we’ve engineered into place.
“Could be.” I agreed.
The pace was picked up again by a conglomerate headed by the Swiss, Martinez and his Spanish cohorts joined in and the pace definitely picked up as we dropped into the Emmental. At Wiggen we joined the Luzern road, the railway shadowing our steadily falling route towards Langnau where we diverted through the town to receive some cheers and other vocal support.
Then it was a steady climb on a near dual carriageway and our first glimpse of the leaders in over sixty kilometres, still a couple of minutes ahead but not likely to survive a great deal further. At the summit we took the old road to avoid the near motorway bypass around Signau, a short drop putting us through the dark tunnel of a bridge into the town. Another drag of a climb and it was clear that the escapees would be overtaken in fairly short order.
“They’re coming up.” Jamie noted.
“Looks like plan B then.” Daz needlessly added.
© Maddy Bell 11.02.14
*Chapter 20*
Bern Baby, Bern
The road started to buck around a bit, at Zäziwil it even had a bit of a climb, which was enough for the chasers to finally make contact with the break. There seemed to be a collective sigh from the peloton as the connection was made, twenty kilometres to go and it’s looking like it’ll be a mass gallop.
Clearly the prospect cheered our designated sprinter as he was now riding with a grin stuck to his face.
“So big gallop then?”
“Looks like it,” I agreed, “couple of nasty turns in the final approach.”
“Need plenty of pace, try and shake things down a bit.”
The others, now back in the bunch were taking a well-earned break from hostilities.
“Ah suppose youse want a lead out nooo, man?” Josh suggested when I slid in beside him.
“It’d be nice.” I grinned.
“The others are pretty tired like, me too to be honest.”
“Do what you can, every little helps.”
“Aye, it might well be little too.”
Instead of heading directly into Bern we turned at Worb taking in a couple of climbs en route to Rubigen where we joined the old southerly approach to the capital. Riders were starting to look a bit nervous and before we entered the city suburbs the peloton had further split – if you were in the back half you weren’t gonna be contesting the finish.
Daz took first spot in our train and the finale was on. Wide, straight boulevards allowed two competing trains to battle for position. Darren was replaced by Geth whose time trialling skills soon had us close to fifty kph with something like two thousand metres to go. The Swiss / Spanish line were matching us pedal stroke for pedal stroke, we gained a metre or two when we made the next turn but lost our advantage as Jamie took over.
The Scot was clearly bushed and Josh shouted him off after just a few metres. Fast right-hander and Josh had the two lines sat rider to rider. Another left-hander and I was surprised to see Michael Desgrange take a flier on the outside, sugar. Not sure where he found it but Josh reacted with some extra pace as we dropped towards Kirchenfeldbrucke.
It was too much for the Swiss train and when Josh swung off I found myself towing Cav up one kerb while Michael held us off in the other. There was perhaps only ten metres in it but with four hundred left to go it’s a long way out in sprinting terms. It’s a slight climb over the bridge into the city centre that meant an out of saddle effort to hold the big Belgian.
Back on solid ground I got us across to Desgrange’s wheel just in time to make the first of three ninety degree left turns on the run in. talk about a technical finish, there’s two turns in the last two hundred! I made the next corner alongside Michael then Mark shot out past both of us.
The result was never in doubt from there on, I could hear riders coming up behind us which spurred me to use the last of my energy to get to the line. Cav was already making a victory salute by the time I cleared the final corner, I gave my own salute as I crossed the line finally swamped by the best of the rest.
Seventh, after all that I got seventh. Well okay not just seventh, I cemented my overall position and so here I am waiting impatiently for my turn on the podium. The bad news was that we missed out on the team prize by a measly point, in the final accounting the Italians grabbed it by a single point.
Roni was a clear victor in the girl’s event, Toli was a deserved second and the surprise podium was our Mand – so okay she was minutes adrift but third is third. Josh held onto the spots, Mario and myself filling second and third and so to the big one.
“In third place for Team Switzerland, Mario Pellini!” being the home rider this clearly was going to get a good reaction from the crowd who rang their bells, cheered and clapped enthusiastically.
“Second place riding for Team Great Britain, Joshua Waugh!” the delight on the Tynesider’s face was infectious, he grinned constantly – even more so when he got his second set of cheek kissing from the podium ladies.
“Winner of the two thousand five Helvetia Cup, riding for Team Great Britain, Andrew Bond!” Geez, no one calls me that. I made my way up to the podium to raucous cheering and climbed up to the top step – Josh and Mario still taller than me of course. We exchanged handshakes; I got my final yellow jersey, kisses, flowers and a trophy nearly as big as me.
Half an hour later and we were checking into our last Swiss accommodation of the trip, the Etap Bern a short drive from the centre.
“We’ve a restaurant booked for seven so down here for six thirty please.” Mr Brailsford instructed.
“Gis that pot here, man, youse gonna go arse over.” Josh suggested.
“Thanks.” I allowed letting him stuff my silverware under his arm, he had his own as well, two in fact but mine was bigger!
When I came out of the shower, Josh was laid on his bed sending a text.
“Yer phone has been going potty like.” He noted.
“Okay.” I mentioned as I towel dried my hair.
“Could you like put some clothes on, man.”
“Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”
Yeah it probably would be an idea to wear more than a towel in front of my friend – not that I don’t trust him or anything but well – you know. I quickly donned my off bike uniform, shorts and a T in the tiny bathroom before handing custody of the facilities to Josh. What now, oh yeah, handy.
Wow, there must be like twenty texts! I flicked through;
‘Great ride – c u nxt wk’ that from Roni.
‘Wow girl, you were amazing!’ Sophia, how does she know?
‘Swiss Telecom welcomes you, call are charged…’ – lose that one!
‘I knew you were speziale, xxx’ hmm, Mario, I’ll have to ring him.
‘Well done kiddo, I’ll ring again later, Mum.’ Self-explanatory.
‘Way to go Drew, congrats from all of us, Chris H.’ Chris H? Who’s, no it can’t be, he hasn’t got my number has he?
There were more in a similar vein and I had only just started to send replies when Josh emerged from the shower looking very dapper.
“Bit dressed up aren’t we?”
“Make an effort like, Steve was saying it’s quite a fancy restaurant we’re going to.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me? I look a right scruff.”
“Dunno like, reckon you could get away with it as you are the uber hero.”
As if Josh, you podiumed and took the mountains so while I’m pretty stoked you achieved more really.
“What am I supposed to wear, my chinos are all creased and I don’t have a proper shirt with me.”
“Just put your yellow shirt on, no one’ll mind.”
“Except me.”
He shrugged, “Ahm gonna go find Mark, see youse in a bit yeah?”
“Yeah sure.” I agreed.
I hit the speed dial for Mand, “brrp, brrp… brrp, brrp… brrp, hello?”
“Heya, Mand.”
“Wassup?”
“You know this restaurant is posh tonight?”
“Not many, I can wear my black dress, Claire’s gone to borrow an iron.”
“Sugar.” I sighed.
“Problem?”
“You could call it that, nothing to wear.”
“Nothing?”
“Well I don’t think shorts and a t shirt will work.”
“I thought you’d got stuff?”
“My chinos are a right mess and anyway I’ve not got a decent shirt.”
“Iron?”
“Won’t lose the bolognese down the leg.”
“Ah.”
“I’d best talk to Dad, see what he says.”
“Let me know if I can help.”
“Will do.”
“Drew Bond, you really are the limit!” Dad exclaimed.
“I didn’t know, I mean we usually go eat in our trackies.”
“So you’ve nothing clean or smart with you?”
“I did have my chinos..”
“But they have sauce down the leg.” He checked the time, “No time to hit the shops, you’ve not got anything decent with you?”
“Not that I could wear tonight.”
“I’m gonna regret asking this I know, just what is it you have that you can’t wear?”
“Come on, kiddo, the restaurant is only just up here.”
“I feel a right narna.”
“You don’t look one; in fact you look great.”
“If you say so, Dad.”
I looked up at the blue sky, one day Drew you’ll think ahead.
© Maddy Bell 12.02.14
*Chapter 21*
Celebrations
"Bond!"
Damn, we've been spotted.
Dad gave a wave and we angled across the road to where I could just see the others between the greenery that surrounds the on street element of the restaurant. I thought this was a daft idea when Dad suggested it; I’m convinced of it now.
"No Drew?" Caro queried coming out to meet us.
"Wasn’t feeling on top form," Dad supplied, "I found this young lady to fill in though."
"You okay, Drew?" Caro asked, "You do look a bit green."
"Gaby, the name’s Gaby, please?"
"Dave?"
"As the girl says."
Girl, after this evening it'll be a fait accompli or whatever the Froggies call it.
"Come on then, let’s get this over with." Caro suggested leading the way into the enclave.
"Where’s Drew?" Mr Brailsford asked.
"Not feeling so good." Dad offered.
"Looked okay when ah left, like." Josh mentioned.
"I’ve brought someone to fill in for him, Gaby," he motioned me forward from where I was hovering behind him and Caro, "Gaby, don't be shy."
Shy! Mortified more like, I’ve spent the last few weeks pumping the macho button for it all to collapse at the last hurdle.
"Um hi," I supplied with a little finger wave.
"It’s the girl from the posters,” Jamie announced.
"What a fox," Daz added.
"Gaby?" Mand queried.
Josh just rolled his eyes and Claire, the only other one really in on things just goldfished.
"Sit here, sit here!" Geth enthused.
"I think our guest might be more comfortable with the girls?" Steve prompted.
"Oh man," Daz moaned.
Personally escape back to the hotel was my favourite option but Dad had my escape route covered. One of the waiters was already re-arranging chairs and tables so that in short order there was a seat next to Laura ready for me.
"Come on, Gaby, sit yourself down." Sal prompted.
"Er sure."
The girls had certainly made an effort, posh frocks, slap and bling, but by comparison I felt somewhat overdressed. Given my limited wardrobe options I now had to cope with wearing the dirndl that I was gifted yesterday - a bit much really but dressy in a sort of Swiss way and offering no doubt that the wearer was of the er fairer sex. Drew was nowhere to be seen, would he ever be again after this?
“So, Gaby, what’s it like being a model?” Laura asked once I’d got my outfit under control in a seated position.
“Model?”
“For like the race poster and stuff?”
“Oh right, I’m hardly a real model.”
“Looked real enough yesterday.” Mand opined.
“Yesterday?” Sal queried.
“Yeah I was talking to Roni earlier, she said she saw Gaby doing some sort of photo shoot at the top of that mountain above Interlaken.”
Mand, you stirrer. I gave her the evil eye.
“Wow,” Laura allowed, “that’s well cool, so how do you know Mr Bond?”
“Didn’t you meet at the team signing on thing?” Mand suggested.
What’s she playing at? Claire hasn’t said a word either.
“Um.”
“Leave the poor girl alone, she probably doesn’t understand much English right, Gaby?” Sal suggested.
What the hell is going on?
“Everyone!” Dave called for our attention; “Now we’re all here we can get on. I’ll keep the speech as short as possible, so firstly, congratulations, that’s not just aimed at those of you going home with trophies but to everyone. If some one had told me six weeks ago that I’d be stood here making this speech after this result I’d not have believed them – that’s not meant as a slight to you guys but from where we started it was always going to be a big ask.
It’s not gone unnoticed that our European based and experienced riders have been the more successful this week and we are hoping that going forward we can give all of you at least some time in the European pelotons next year. Next weekend you’ll all be competing in Denmark, on the world stage, many of those you’ve been up against this week will be there but also some highly rated riders from across the Atlantic, Asia and the Antipodes. We have had some success on the World stage with our junior riders, I, we think you lot are the strongest squad we’ve ever taken at junior level. All we ask is that you do your best in Roskilde, take the lessons of the last few weeks and silence some of the detractors back home.
I’d also like to thank the backroom team, our spanners Mike & Darren, Jemma who must have sore arms by now, Dave for giving his valuable time and of course your mentors, Steve and Caroline, I think some appreciation is due?”
Most of us got the hint and soon we were all clapping the ‘team’.
“That’s it for me, time to celebrate, raise your glasses please.”
While Mr. B was talking the serving team had distributed glasses of bubbly that we now eagerly raised.
“To success!”
“Success!” we replied before putting sparkly stuff down our gullets.
“Enjoy yourselves but remember that we’ll be leaving fairly early in the morning.”
Geez, always a downer.
It was a bit surreal, there I was doing a reasonable rendition of Gaby with a bunch of people who for the most part only know Drew and I’m being treated like a visitor. To be fair, those in the know haven’t exposed me, on the contrary Josh, Claire and Mand have if anything been promoting the whole ‘where’s Drew?’ scenario. I guess it’s true, the whole duck thing; the guys spent the evening lusting (yeuk!), the girls talking girl talk – maybe it’s not the end of Drew.
Of course I’ve over simplified the discussions, the big topic wasn't me (phew), the race, boys or female hygiene, no it was the placement scheme that Mr Brailsford had announced.
"So what happens about school?" Claire queried.
"Well duh, they do have schools this side of the Channel." Sal mentioned.
"I know you don't ride or anything but what do you think Gaby?" Laura put to me.
She really hasn't spotted me as Drew has she?
"I think it’s a good opportunity for everyone, learn the language, travel." I offered.
"Languages, yeah." Claire lamented.
"No disrespect, Gaby but like foreigners are always good at languages, I bet you know loads." Laura suggested.
"Er not really," I shrugged, "German and a bit of French and Italian."
"And English," Manda pointed out.
"Which is as good as ours and we are English." Sal noted.
So am I!
"I wonder where we'll end up?" Laura mused.
"France probably." Mand proposed.
“Or like Holland? You can get Ender’s there according to my Nana.” Claire offered.
“And that’s good because?” Laura put in.
“Was just saying.”
“Gaby must think we‘re crackers,” Sal observed, “I bet they don’t have Corrie or anything here.”
Geez – here they are on the cusp of their cycling careers and all they can think of is whether they’ll be able to watch the flippin’ soaps.
“Do you watch much telly, Gaby?” Mand asked.
“MTV sometimes but I don’t get much time to spare with school and work you know.”
“I wonder if we’ll have to get jobs? Everyone over here works.”
“Shouldn’t think so, Lor.” Sally stated, “How’d we do training and stuff if we’re working?”
The sun was casting long shadows down the street by the time the festivities ended.
“Nice to meet you,” Laura mentioned giving me a hug.
“Yeah,” Sal agreed, “it’s been bikes this and bikes that for weeks so talking with someone who doesn’t ride and’s famous was a relief.
I saw Mand roll her eyes at that.
“You ready, Gaby?” Dad enquired.
“Er sure, bye everyone.”
“Laters.” Mand stated.
“Bye, Gaby.”
There was a chorus of other farewells as I followed Dad out of the restaurant’s enclave.
“Well that was weird.”
“What’s that, luv?” Dad absently asked.
“Tonight, I mean, no one even blinked at me being there.”
“Well Dave was a bit surprised.”
“Yeah I guess it’s a bit of a shock to see the lad who won today turn up in a frock tonight.” I observed.
We headed to where the Mercedes was parked; the others were walking back to the hotel so with luck I’d have a few minutes to return to Drew before they arrived.
“You missed a cracking meal like.” Josh supplied when I met the returning feasters three quarters of an hour later.
“Well you know.”
“You might want to lose the earrings bud.” He whispered as he passed.
Shite! Good job the others were a bit behind. I quickly slipped the offending jewellery from their holes and slipped them into a pocket.
“Thanks, mate.”
“Whatever.” He seemed a bit non-plussed.
“Heya, Drew, you feeling better?” Laura enquired.
“Er yeah thanks, dicky tummy, must be the heat.”
“You won’t want this then.” Mark stated as he waved a bag at me.
“Dunno, what is it Speedy?”
“Just give it to him Mark.” Geth suggested.
“Couldn’t have you missing out on all the fun so we brought you some cake.” Cav told me as he dropped the bag into my hands.
“Hey, you never guess who we met tonight.” Jamie put in, “Only that girl off the posters!”
“Gaby, her names’, Gaby.” Sal stated.
You don’t say.
Maddy Bell © 06.03.2014
*Chapter 22*
Home Again, Clippetty Clop
“So what was all that about tonight, man?” Josh demanded once we returned to our spartan overnight abode.
“What do you mean?”
“The whole girl thing, like.”
“You know the score.”
“Aye, I know that stuff, I was there in Hamburg remember an’ ah’ve bin rooming with youse fer a week, not that, the dress and girl stuff.”
“Wasn’t my choice exactly but Dad thought that as it’s gonna happen sometime, tonight was as good as any other time.”
It sounds like I’m blaming Dad, I’m not really it’s just…oh I don’t know what I mean.
“Didn’t work anyhow did it? The other lads just saw a bit of totty and Laura and Sal, if they clocked it was me they didn’t react.”
“Do you always look like that, when you’re at home like?”
“Not if I can help it.” I sighed, “You’ve seen me, the girl me, a couple of times, think Roni but less enthusiastic.”
“Ah hate to say it, man, but youse do make a canny lass like, definitely…”
“Don’t say it!” I cut in.
“Next time that Gaby makes an appearance could youse at least warn me, like?”
“I’ll try, mate.” Yeah I’ll try.
“We all loaded?” Steve enquired, counting heads in the bus.
“Anyone own a pink cardigan?” Caro asked over his shoulder.
“That’ll be Geth’s,” Mark chortled.
“More likely yours big shot.” Darren suggested.
“Mine I think,” Sal offered.
“Here you go then,” Caro allowed passing it into the back, “anyone else missing anything? Phones? Wallets?”
That of course had everyone searching bags and pockets, turns out Jamie had left both in the room, idiot.
We set off a bit short of nine thirty for the drive north, tonight I’ll be back in my own bed, the rest of course still have another day, well Jamie and Mark have two and Josh is stopping with us before flying to Toon land tomorrow. We joined the northbound motorway which, rather than going directly towards Basel swings away more easterly before joining the A2/E35 that we travelled down on. Rather than going through the city we crossed the Rhein a little to the east to avoid the traffic and although a bit longer we escaped the long queues at the border.
It was something after twelve when we left the autobahn at Baden services, after all the travelling we’ve done on this trip its become a bit of a chore.
“Urgh!” Sal announced with a stretch.
“Tell me about it,” Claire agreed.
“Forty five folks.” Steve announced.
“We eating here?” Mark enquired.
“No, Mark, we want to push on so we aren’t too late getting to tonight’s accommodation, we’ll probably have another stop later but not to eat.”
“Coffee and cake?” I suggested.
“Now you’re talking, Bond!” Geth enthused.
“Count me in,” Mand added.
“Forty five,” Steve reminded us.
The services had both a coffee shop and Dinea; whilst the coffee smelt good they only had some grotty pre packed croissants on offer so I led the herd into the restaurant.
“Aha, cake!”
“I swear you’ve got a built in cake detector, man.” Josh mentioned.
“Perhaps,” I shrugged with a grin as I surveyed the goodies on offer.
“How much is it?” Sal queried.
“Two ninety five, the cream’s fifty extra.”
“Cream?” Laura put in.
“Good with Pflaumkuchen,” I offered, “This lot’s on me.”
“Did I hear right, Bond?” Geth asked.
“Think of it as a thank you, I couldn’t’ve won without you lot helping.”
I saw Mark nod in approval.
“In that case I’m having cream!” Claire told us gleefully.
It cost me nearly sixty Euros but it was well worth it. When Mum suggested it last night I was all ‘I won they should treat me’ but as she pointed out you can’t win on your own – maybe occasionally but treat the team right and they’ll be much more amenable. We chatted, drank, ate and for once we really relaxed – no impending race, presentation or team talk to distract us. By the time we returned to the minibus it felt more like a day out with friends than the end of a two-week bike-racing trip.
Indeed, once we got going again we didn’t return to this mornings individual travel strategies, instead the bus was filled with lively conversation and even at one point a game of I-Spy! Obviously the teen version so it got a bit silly but the monotonous autobahn scenery was ignored and it was more a need to empty bladders than anything else that had us rapidly exiting our transport at the Pfalz services.
“It’s only about an hour from here,” Caro advised as we settled back on board.
“Yay!” Jamie allowed.
An hour, sixty minutes and my part of this trip will be over. I know I had a night at home on the way to Italy but essentially I’ve been away for nearly seven weeks. The bus was more sober as we rejoined the E31 that will take us all the way to home to the Ahrtal. The afternoon sky was dotted with puffy white cloud, nothing threatening but typical of the region when the temperature is higher – not Italy hot but certainly high twenties.
When we crossed the Moseltalbrucke I felt like I was pretty much home, maybe fifty k’s, I sometimes train in these hills. I watched for the turn offs, Andernach, Maria Laach, Nurburgring, Brohltal, us next. Nearly there. The engine tone changed as Steve started to slow the bus for the turn – Dad mentioned something about parking the truck at the bottling plant tonight so I’m guessing we are going there first.
Sure enough rather than taking the main road we followed the Mercedes towards Heppingen and the Apollinaris depot, home to millions of bottles and the cycling team. The truck was already in the yard – they had left Baden well before us but we were barely five minutes behind them arriving here.
“Now that’s a lot of bottles!” Darren noted.
“Just a few,” I agreed, “there’s another depot further up the valley.”
“Drew, Josh, get your stuff together and in the car.” Dad prompted through the doorway.
“Looks like this is us then.” Josh mentioned.
I hadn’t got much on the bus so I was soon clambering out into the late afternoon sunshine.
“Take care, Drew.” Sal offered.
“Yeah next week, guys.” Daz added.
“You can do farewells later, we’ll all be eating together tonight.” Steve supplied.
Ten minutes later I was strapped into the Mercedes and we were on the final leg of the homeward journey. We led the bus through Bad Neunahr and Ahrweiler to the Ibis which this time was accommodating everyone. Of course we had a bit further to go but soon enough the familiar streets of Dernau and Schloss Bond hove into sight.
‘Beep, beep!’ Dad sounded the horn as we swung up onto the drive alongside Mum’s car.
Mum’s car, she’s home! That was confirmed a moment later as she appeared on the steps down from the house.
“Mum!” I squealed, almost leaping out of the car.
“Someone’s pleased to be home.” Mum managed before I nearly bowled her over.
“I’ve missed you.” I almost blubbed.
“And me you, kiddo,” Mum agreed returning my hug, “Hi, Josh.”
“Mrs Bond,” he allowed.
“Don’t I get a look in?” Dad queried.
“Later, Dave Bond.” She promised.
“Come on then, you two, lets get unloaded then you can sort yourselves out for dinner.”
It didn’t take long to get all the bags inside – somehow I had several more than I departed with – well there was that dress for starters besides the assorted presents, jerseys, trophies and posters I’d accumulated. Josh was installed in the guest room, he could hardly use Jules lair like Mand did the other week. By the time I emerged from my shower the distant rumble of the washing machine could just be heard – the door to the garage must be open – yay for mums!
At least dinner tonight wasn’t gonna be a fancy affair, a return to Der Mühle where we ate on the trip down, you remember, Christina’s parents place down in Ahrweiler?
“You going like that?” Mum queried when I ventured downstairs.
I recognise that tone, it usually leads to a fancy frock.
“Er yeah?” I offered, surreptitiously checking my jeans for stains.
“Where are your chino’s?”
“In the wash?”
“Hmm, they’ll have to do I suppose.”
Yes!
“So where’s Dad and the big yin?”
“In the den I think, so where’s this trophy then?
Trophy, yeah I won didn’t I, but seriously, woooo!
“I’ll just go and fetch it,” I enthused.
We had a while before we needed to head out to Ahrweiler so Mum had to sit through the whole story of the Swiss race. She was spared nothing from my devious tactics to my near panic on the Queen stage over that big pass. I don’t think she was too bored; at least her eyes were still open when Dad poked his head into the kitchen and suggested it was time to leave.
“Come on then, kiddo, you can tell me the rest later,” she prompted.
“I guess.”
“You two coming or what?” Dad enquired.
“Right there,” Mum replied.
“Can we er take your car luv, the Merc’s full of tosh still?” Dad admitted.
“Guess who’s not drinking tonight,” Mum mentioned under her breath, “okay, love.”
Although Mum’s car is still a Mercedes, they still sponsor the team after all; it’s only a B Klasse – an upgrade over the original but still hardly on a par with Dad’s C Klasse monster. Apparently we needed to take our silverware, Josh’s two boxes and my one were stowed in the boot and we set off for downtown Ahrweiler.
“So what were you two talking about?” Mum enquired of the other passengers as she swung us onto the main road.
“Just sorting some paperwork out for Josh to take home tomorrow.” Dad supplied.
“Boring.” Mum stated.
“But necessary if Josh is gonna race with us next season, he’s still using a UK licence which ruled him out of the Jüngere Cup overall this season.”
“Bummer,” I noted, “you did some good rides too.”
“Aye, your Da reckons I woulda been top ten like if I’d been eligible.”
“You still get the prize money though?”
“Oh aye.” He grinned.
Maddy Bell © 14.03.2014
*Chapter 23*
Parting Of Ways
The others were already at Der Mühle when we arrived, the party was last night but we were in the ‘function’ room where we found not just the BC team but George Müller, the boss of Apollinaris cycling and the Pinger’s.
“Caro!” Mum exclaimed when she spotted my godmother.
“Jenny, long time no see.”
Their exchange caused a few heads to swivel and when they recognized Mum, jaws to drop.
“Dad, why’re George and the Pinger’s here?” I queried.
“You’ll find out later.” Dad promised.
Sounds ominous. Hang on, Pinger’s, is Kat here?
“Looking for someone, Bond?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Shitza, Kat, don’t do that!”
“The look on your face.”
I poked my tongue out in reply.
“So you are some big hero for your team, eh?”
“I wouldn’t say that, Mark won more and Josh did most of the grunt work.”
“Pah, it’s your name on the winner’s trophy, that’s what counts.” She observed.
“So how come you’re here? I thought we were just coming to dinner.”
“No idea, momma just said for us to come, something for George I think.”
By now my rents and Caro had gravitated to where the other adults were chatting so Kat and I headed to where my team mates were now discussing what they thought was going on.
“Guys, this is my friend Kat, her mum rides with mine.”
“Hi,” Kat supplied.
“Told you!” Claire crowed.
“Alright clever clogs,” Sal allowed, “you win.”
“Win?” I queried.
“Claire reckons the woman over there is Maria Pinger.” Laura told us.
“It is,” I confirmed, “that’s Kat’s mum.”
“Don’t you know anyone who’s not famous, Drew?” Darren queried.
“Well I know you lot.” I grinned before having to dodge a few slaps aimed my way.
I suppose I have at least met a few famous people, let’s see there was Lance last year, oh yeah JK Rowling at that con, you could count the other pro’s I’ve met, the Olympic squad. Can’t think of anyone else, oh yeah Prince William – probably trumps the rest but I’m not admitting that meeting to anyone here!
“Okay everyone, settle down, you’ll have a chance to speak with our guests after we’ve eaten.” Steve announced.
The mention of food is usually enough to calm this lot down and as I had spotted Christina and her colleagues hovering by the kitchen door just after we arrived, delivery of food was imminent. The adults started to find themselves seats and us mere riders claimed positions on the other table.
“You joining us?” I asked Kat.
“If no one minds, they’ll be talking shop over there.”
Christina’s mum came for the drinks order – I ordered Radler for everyone, as near to alcohol as we’re allowed. Some of the table were very enthusiastic about having her on our table, don’t those guys ever think about anything else? Last night it was ‘Gaby’, tonight it’s Kat’s turn to be lusted over.
“So, Kat, you go to school with Drew?” Laura asked.
“No I’m at college now.”
“What’re you studying?” Darren queried.
“Sports science.”
“Ooh, cool – I wouldn’t mind doing that.” Sal allowed.
“She has a placement with the women’s team,” I put in.
“You go to the races? Don’t you ride?” Claire continued the interrogation.
“Not all the time, I have to attend college of course. Momma would like if I raced but it’s not for me, the only bike I ride is my Schauff.”
The blank looks at that needed an explanation.
“Big clunky thing, like those Dutch bikes - I’ve got one for riding to school.” I admitted.
“Food!” Jamie announced as the soup course started to arrive at our table.
The thin vegetable soup didn’t really go far in filling stomachs however the steak in pepper sauce soon made up for that and chatter was replaced by chomping. It would’ve been better with real chips but let’s face it, pommes are almost the national dish and to be honest I can’t even imagine schnitzel with English chips. Dessert was red berries and cream, goodness knows why they don’t have real puds or even a decent portion.
Our Chief stood and got our attention as the coffee arrived, “Okay folks, time for some introductions and explanations. I’m sure you recognise Drew’s mother next to Caroline, then we have Maria Pinger Apollinaris team captain with her husband,” he pointed to each in turn, “and finally next to me here is George Müller, director of the Apollinaris cycling teams.”
The others attention was now captured, personally I was just curious as to why the Pinger’s and George were here.
“I’m sure you are all aware by now that Mr. Bond runs the junior team and I think you’ve met the other riders in Switzerland that Josh and Drew race with here in Germany?”
A few nodding heads confirmed that assertion, before Mr. Brailsford continued.
“We mentioned briefly that we were hoping to get a placement scheme in place to give you more experience and Dave has, with my permission, been liaising with George in regard to this with much more success than I could have hoped for. George would you like to continue?”
“Ja danke, Dave,” George allowed as he stood to address us.
I looked over at Dad, he grinned back like the cat with the cream.
“Gut efening everyone, you must excuse mein English, the Bondts are teaching me but I’m a poor student eh, Jenny?”
“I’ve had worse.” Mum grinned.
“So, a little history first, the Apollinaris ladies’ team was originally part of the Eifel RSV competing in the national series and sometimes into neighbouring countries. Five years ago we signed up with Apollinaris as main sponsor and joined the professional ranks quickly gaining some success through Maria here and the other local based riders. An increased budget allowed us to recruit Jenny three years ago. More success and encouragement within the community allowed us to start the Jüngere team, originally with just four riders last year, increasing to five this season with great success.”
He paused for a sip from his coffee cup before continuing.
“That’s the history lesson over, so to today. When British Cycling approached us earlier in the summer we were a little surprised but we listened and were intrigued. It wasn’t as I first thought a request for sponsorship but instead a truly interesting coaching scheme. I have to admit that after making some enquiries I thought the idea was water against the wall but Dave convinced me to keep a more open mind.
And so I have met with Dave and his team, we have talked with Apollinaris and also the German Federation and we have come to an agreement. You don’t need to know the finances involved but Apollinaris will provide sponsorship for your development team in the UK and we will also register a second team here in Germany to allow competing in our fierce national series that of course Drew won for us this year.”
Yup, I coloured up, so what?
“In addition we will facilitate an extra place on our own Jüngere team for a British rider. Whilst the new team will be based here in the Ahrtal, as riders you will usually stay in the UK, traveling to the races from there. Your management team will tell you more detail, it only leaves me to welcome you to the Apollinaris family, wilkommen!”
There might only be ten of us but we made enough noise for twice that number.
“Okay, calm down,” the boss requested. “Thank you, George. So people, you are the first to hear about this, there will be a press release on Monday so we’d like you to keep a lid on it until then. Which brings me to why I asked everyone to bring this weeks spoils along tonight, Herr Pinger will be taking some pictures for the announcement so I hope you didn’t get covered in any of that excellent meal.
I’m sure that Jenny and Maria will answer some of your questions, we haven’t decided who is doing what yet, we’ll be discussing that with you individually in the coming weeks.”
This really is a big deal. It certainly throws a new light on Dad’s presence for the trip to Italy and Switzerland.
The rest of the evening was a round of photographs, more Radler and an encroaching melancholy. The ten of us, and the coaching team of course, have been together – eating, traveling, and training, for twelve days and before that, those four weeks in blighty for most of us. That all ends tonight, I know it’s only a week until the Worlds but it’ll be strange not sparring with Mand over frühstuck, joking with Cav and the guys although I won’t miss all those different beds!
It was after ten before the pseudo party broke up.
“See you next week, Drew.” Mand offered giving me a hug.
“Yeah, safe journey home.”
“Make sure you bring Gaby to Denmark.” She whispered in my ear before releasing me.
What?
“Take care, Drew.” Mark slapped my shoulder before I could pursue Mand’s departing statement.
“And you.”
The farewells continued, not just for me of course, Dad and Josh were likewise doing the auf wiedersehn bit.
“So, Drew, we’ll see you next week,” Caro mentioned.
“Try stopping me.”
“Well last night nearly put the cat amongst the pigeons.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Dave’ll be talking to the Federation when we’re in Denmark to try and get some ruling to allow us and you to go forward. Male or female, there’s a place on the squad but we need to get things settled, it’s not fair on anyone to keep things as they are.”
“I guess, you know my position, Caro.”
“I also know that you can’t keep the beautiful young woman that joined us last night out of sight for very much longer.”
“I can cut my hair, get some tattoos.”
“She’ll still be there, kiddo.”
I sighed, “Yeah, worst luck.”
“Next week.” She pulled me close and kissed me on the top of my head, “Look after yourself.
“Both of me.” I tried to joke but it was a bit flat.
Friday morning arrived shrouded in mist, not unusual in the valley this time of year – it’ll be hot later if it goes as normal.
“You coming, kiddo?” Dad prompted.
“Just getting my shoes.”
“Well hurry up, I’ve got to get Josh to Dusseldorf for twelve, you know what that road’s like.”
Yeah whatever.
Thirty minutes later I was astride my bike in the Apollinaris yard waiting for Mum and the girls to turn up.
“So, next week then, man,” Josh offered.
“Yeah, been a good trip.”
“It’s had its moments, first time I slept with a girl, like.”
“Who? Where?”
“Youse, yer daft sod!” he grinned.
“I, a….” yeah my usual level of conversation and if the heat in my face was anything to go by I now sported an unbecoming shade of red.
“Next week, Blondie!”
I was still sat there wordlessly staring after the departing car five minutes later.
Maddy Bell © 16.03.2014
*Chapter 24*
All Girly
“You all right, kiddo?” Mum enquired a couple of minutes later.
“Um, er, yeah, I guess.” I managed before my brain re-engaged.
“So who is it this time?”
“Eh?”
“I’ve seen that look before, missy, so who is he?”
“Josh,” my gob announced before my brain could intervene.
“As in big lad that stayed at ours last night?”
“Um.”
“We’re gonna have to put a lead on you, I thought your sister was bad enough.”
“What?”
“Boys,” she supplied.
“Huh?” my thought muscle finally got its act together, “Noooo, that is like so not happening!”
“So what was that faraway look for then?”
“I wasn’t, I mean it’s what Josh said.”
“And what did he say?” Mum pushed.
I started to blush.
“Something about you being a young woman I’m guessing?”
“Kinda, he said I was the first girl he’d slept with.” It was out before I realised how that sounded.
“I thought there was something different about you, well I suppose we can’t stop you, at least you’re on the pill.”
“Wha?” the penny dropped, “No, no, no! We didn’t do anything, please don’t say anything to anyone, we were sharing in Switzerland that’s all.”
She looked at me doubtfully, “So why the look? Do you like him?”
“Of course I like him, oh not that way, that’s so wrong. He’s a mate.”
“But?”
“But he said I was a girl.”
“And I don’t suppose you did anything to reinforce that idea, Gaby Bond?”
“’Course not!”
Or had I? My mind did a quick revisit of the last week and I realised that my actions on more than one occasion rubbed my female self in his face so to speak. I didn’t mean to and he was good about it but…but what? I don’t know what.
“Hey, you two, are you riding this morning?”
“Coming, Maria,” Mum stated, “come on you; let’s see what all those mountains have done to your form eh?”
“Er sure.”
Anja, Tina and Erika were chatting about some TV show or other, George, Mike, Petra and Maria were waiting by the bus.
“Sorry, George,” Mum offered as we scooted over to join them.
“Concentrate on work now, eh?” George suggested.
“Yes, boss man.”
“Okay, the details of the Japanisch events came through last night so finally we can prepare for the trip properly.”
“’Bout time,” Tina opined.
“I know, I know,” George allowed, “so as you know the womens’ race scene over there isn’t very strong, you’ll be up against their national squad and other invited riders, I think some of the Dutch girls are going over too. There are two criteriums and a hundred K road race so nothing too exciting but I want us to put on a good show okay?”
“Sure boss.” Anja stated.
“They’re sort of demonstration events tagged onto the men’s programme; apparently it’s quite a big deal for them.”
“So what’re we doing this morning?” Erika enquired.
“Steady ride up to the ring,” Maria told us, “we’ll concentrate on crit skills, we have the use of one of the car parks.”
Joy, I got out of bed for this.
From home the route up to the ring takes you up the valley usually to Adenau before climbing to the circuit, from this far down the valley there are other options. This morning Maria and Anja led us through town then onto the quieter road towards Godeneltern. Clearly your idea of steady and George’s are two different things, the road jigs quite steeply up to the village before starting a long, steady ascent through the forest that covers the north facing hillsides.
I’m not complaining, after some of those alpine climbs this is, not easy but certainly not as taxing. We rode in pairs, taking quite long pulls on the front, I was alongside Tina.
“Hey, girl, steady up it’s not a race,” she puffed.
“Er sorry.” I eased back and took a look behind, the others were now some twenty metres adrift but riding along steadily chatting.
“I think Switzerland has been good for you,” Tina suggested.
“I guess, some of the climbing was pretty intense.”
“Ja, when we rode the Willem Tell in the spring we did the Albula, not so steep but long.”
I’m guessing the Albula is one of the passes.
“Yeah, climbing for twenty K can get a bit old.” I agreed.
Ramersbach hove into view and the others caught up to us as we turned onto the Kempenich road, the lesser of two evils as the other road has some nasty bits of climb and doesn’t get you much closer to our destination. We soon reached the main road and Maria instigated a quicker rotation that soon had us eating up the dozen or so kilometres along to the Ring. We made our way to the car park we’d be using and I for one was quite happy to come to a halt at the Apollinaris bus.
“Okay, ladies,” I bristled a little but George has always thought I was a girl, “we’ve set out a circuit, Mike and Pet have swept the corners so you shouldn’t need to worry about giving your all. We’ll start with a few laps to get the feel then we’ll play rabbit, so, when you’re ready.”
Assorted top layers were discarded and we started out on an hour of purgatory. The circuit they’d laid out was pretty typical of the sort of town centre route they expect us to race on, short straights, ninety degree turns, maybe a chicane and all squeezed into a kilometre or less. At least here on the car park if we get it wrong there’s space to recover, on narrow cobbled streets with curbs and drains you don’t get that luxury.
After a couple of laps getting the hang of the circuit the speed increased and we got down to work. Accelerate, brake, accelerate, brake – well you get the idea. Obviously with just six of us it’s not quite the same as race conditions but it doesn’t mean that it’s not quite intense.
“Tina!” George shouted after several laps, the signal for Fraulein Porsche to make a move.
The idea is to mimic the constant attacking that you often get in these events, a completely different style of riding to open road riding. Teen didn't go straight away, choosing her moment to give the best chance of breaking the elastic, the rest of us for our part have to try to stop her.
"LINKS!" Anja called as we prepared for corner three, game on!
I won’t bore you with a blow by blow account; Tina's effort had us all eyeballs out for a couple of laps before George called Mum into action, reset and start again. No rest but a new effort as Mum dangled off the front not really going anywhere. I was quite surprised when just one lap after Mum’s attack George called me, bummer.
Just because I’d been called didn't mean the chase for Mum was over, far from it which in turn makes it harder for me to escape. I decided to make my move at the bottom corner, hopefully out brake the others before hitting the climb up to the bus. Instead of dropping a sprocket I left it in the fourteen and just hoped I had enough momentum to squint through as the others slowed.
It was tight; Maria almost had the door shut before I hit the turbo button. Accelerating when you are already doing over forty K's is never easy but my higher gearing helped me gain the crucial few metres that allowed escape. Mum had slowed on the climb so that by the top, all two hundred metres of it, I was on her wheel then past as we took the next corner.
Time trial mode, give it everything. I kept the pressure on completing a full lap before even chancing a quick look back through turn one. Where are they? Whatever keep it going, Drew. You lose count on these little circuits, I think I’d done about five laps out front when I spotted the others in front of me!
Think male bovines and a colour that I blush to. I gritted my teeth anew and continued to plough my lonely furrow around the car park with renewed enthusiasm. Slowly the gap closed, metre by metre then clearly a consensus was reached ahead and I closed the gap more rapidly as they slowed a little. A further effort on the next ‘climb’ let me tag onto the back of the group and finally take a breather.
“Bleh!”
“What kept you?” Mum enquired.
“Last lap!” George called on our next pass.
Anja made the move halfway around the lap, Maria jumped on it but the pace remained high, all of them keen to reach the line first. I managed to stay in contact – just, up the incline but when Mum exploded past the others out of the last corner I had nothing left. It was embarrassing, it was more like watching one of the girls with BC than my Mum as she crowed and posed after taking the ‘win’ – technically I’d won having taken a lap but you know what I mean.
“Well done, youngster!” George allowed when I wheezed to a halt.
“Thanks.”
“She makes us look bad,” Erika moaned.
“She eats fewer cream cakes than you,” Anja suggested.
“Not looking at my bills,” Mum chimed in.
For my part I was too ker-nackered to make any comment. I gratefully downed the bottle that someone passed me, too tired to even get off my steed.
“You okay now?” Petra enquired as we negotiated downtown Adenau about twenty minutes later.
“I guess, I feel such a girl’s blouse though.”
“There’s no prize for being Supergirl eh, Bossman?”
“For sure,” George agreed from the front of the bus.
Yeah, you’ve got it; I’ve taken the girly option to get back home, a ride in the bus. The others didn’t get the option so we’re following them back down to Bad Neunahr – to be truthful I’m not even apologetic about it. Of course you can’t go on an Apollinaris ride without finishing with coffee, even if it is in the team HQ.
“Everything okay?” Dad enquired seeing me clamber down from the bus.
“She’s fine, bit tired is all,” Petra advised.
“Not as much as her Mum,” said parent chimed in as she clattered into the building.
“She hasn’t learnt to control it yet,” Maria supplied, “it will come.”
“Did Josh get off okay?” Mum enquired.
“Yeah, he’s got promise that lad.” Dad observed.
“And I pay you to get that promise,” George mentioned.
“Talking of which, next week George…” Dad took off in pursuit of the Direktor leaving us poor riders to get our own coffee, damn cheek!
“So what’re you doing this afternoon kiddo?” Dad asked as we headed back home.
“No idea, go see Con maybe?”
“All your washing done?” Mum queried.
“Yes, Mum.”
We swung into Dernau a minute later.
“Stop! Stop!”
Dad slammed the anchors on; Mum asked the question, “What’s up?”
“It’s Anna! See you in a bit!” I almost leapt from the Mercedes and headed towards Edeka where I’d just seen my friend enter.
“More girly than her sister,” Jenny sighed.
Maddy Bell © 19.03.2014
*Chapter 25*
Ahr
I don’t really know what I was thinking, I hadn’t got anything with me, I was dressed in what you might politely call scruffs and Anna was clearly already doing something.
“Anna!” I shouted spotting her down the first aisle.
“It was your car I saw, welcome home, Gab!”
We embraced tightly. “It’s good to be here.”
“Tut, tut, mädchen!” old Frau Paproth mentioned as she pushed her shopping trolley into my ankle.
“Er sorree,” I allowed dancing out of the way, last time she did that I had a bruise on my shin for weeks.
“When’d you get back?”
“Last night,” I admitted, “I had to go training with Mum this morning otherwise I woulda rung.”
“You’re looking well, I didn’t think the English weather was so good.”
“It wasn’t, we’ve been in the Alps for two weeks.”
“I remember now, Con said she saw you the other week on the way south.”
“So what are you up to?”
“Shopping for dinner, guess who landed the chef job all summer?”
“Lucky you.”
“You coming to Köln tomorrow? Last chance to shop before school.”
“Don’t remind me, I’m only there two days though, I go to the World’s on Wednesday.”
“Worlds? For your racing, I thought that’s what you did all summer?”
“Well yeah, it was training for next week, the big one up in Denmark.”
“You’ll forget your own bed.” She stated.
“Tell me about it, so, you wanna hang, we could go to Thesing’s, catch up a bit?”
“Love to,” she started, “but I’ve got too much to do if I’m going out tomorrow.”
“’Kay,” I sighed.
“We’re catching the nine o’clock in the morning, see you at the station?”
“Sure,” I agreed, “nine.”
“See you in the morning, ciao!”
“Tschuss,” have I just been given the brush off?
Suppose I’d better go home then. It’s not far back to Bond acres, ten minutes tops normally, today it took me fifteen as I moped about Anna’s dismissal.
“You’re back quick,” Mum noted when I slunk into the kitchen.
“I s’pose,” I replied with a shrug.
“You two fallen out?”
“I haven’t, she was busy is all.”
“Too busy to chat with someone she hasn’t seen for what, six, seven weeks?”
“I guess, we’re going up to Köln tomorrow.” I mentioned although I didn’t sound that enthused to me even.
“And just when were you going to ask if you could?”
“Er later? Please?”
“Just kidding, kiddo, ‘course you can. So you doing anything now?”
“Not really.”
That admission sealed my fate. The last day of the school hols and how do I spend it? Training and changing bed linen that’s how. The others won’t even be home yet I don’t suppose, I think Manda’s rents are gonna meet the bus at those services we used on the way down but like Mark and Jamie have still got a lot of travelling to do.
“Gaa-ab, phone!” Dad shouted up to my eyrie where I’d slunk once I escaped the sheets and duvets.
“Coming.”
Wonder who’s calling on the landline for me?
“Hello?”
“Gaby Bond, where have you been?” Con’s voice demanded, “I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
“It’s not rung.” I observed. Hmm where is my handy?
“I tried several times this morning and more this abend.”
“I was out with Mum and the girls this morning, been here all afternoon though.”
“Whatever, got you now,” she noted, “So, you wanna come hang later?”
“I guess,” I agreed somewhat more brightly.
“‘Bout six thirty? Guess who has to clean the shop tonight.”
“I could give you a hand,” I volunteered.
“Nah it’s alright, have to go, dad’s giving me the evil eye, Frau Paproth has just come in. Later!”
“Yeah, later.” I agreed.
Where is that mobile phone?
That mystery was solved a few minutes later when I discovered it in my tracky top; as to why it hadn’t rung, well guess who forgot to put it on charge last night?
“What you want for tea, kiddo?” Mum enquired.
“I’ll probably grab something at Con’s,” I offered.
“In that case I’ll let your father take me to the Schloss,” she grinned.
I wheeled the behemoth that is my school bike out of the garage, the bag of chocs and the purple plushy cow for Con safely stowed with my now partly charged handy and my Handtasche. Yeah I know but it’s useful for my keys and stuff alright?
“Don’t be too late if you’re going out in the morning.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Be careful on that thing.”
“Yes, Dad,” you’d think I had a Mofa not a great lumping Schauff shopper.
Of course I didn’t really need to ride, it is only ten minutes walk but you kind of get into a habit, pretty much all my peers get about by bike for anything considered local.
“Byee, say hi to the Baron for me.” And with that I pointed the monster down the driveway and onto the road.
It was certainly a bit weird riding this monster again after seven weeks of exclusively riding assorted race bikes. Hub gears, dynamo, big fat tyres, racer its not but solid and reliable it does well and I was soon relishing the plush ride over the less than perfect surface of the road into town. Boy it’s good to be home.
Of course the bakery was closed when I scooted to a halt outside, the shop and café in darkness. I parked my transport up and lifted the basket with my stuff in off its bracket, proper Miss Marple wicker thing of course, then headed to the side door. I usually only come out this way, going in through the shop, it took me a moment to workout which was the house bell.
Bzzzzzt!
“Hello?” a dismembered voice offered.
“Just me.” I supplied.
“Gabs, be down in a mo, the door release isn’t working.” Con mentioned.
“’Kay.”
So much for fancy electronics.
A couple of minutes later I heard movement beyond the door before it swung welcomingly open.
“Gabeee!”
“Con!”
So okay, I’m being a bit of a girl today but like we haven’t seen each other for weeks, well two anyhow.
“Sorry about earlier, my phone was out of power.” I offered when we broke our embrace.
“Well you’re here now, let’s get the door locked and we can go in.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
She pushed the door shut and the lock seemed to work well enough this time.
“I’ll have to show you this, Gab,” she told me heading towards the back door of the shop.
“What? Not a new Gaggia?”
“Nah, something much better.”
Better than a new Gaggia? They’ve not redecorated and the place was hardly bristling with stuff in the first place.
“New till?”
“You’ll see,” she grinned opening the door into the darkened interior.
“Whatever,” I mumbled following her inside.
“SURPRISE!”
It was that, I jumped nearly out of my skin! The lights flashed on to reveal all the gang, Pia, Nena, Brid, Stef, Anna as well as Marty and Max all stood expectantly in the shop.
“Welcome home, Gabs,” Stef told me as I was pulled into the first of several hugs.
“Um,” yeah I know, I need to work on that.
When Max landed a wet one on my cheek I nearly threw one, not because it was horrible or anything, just like in front of everyone you know?
“Max!” I hissed.
“Sorry, Gabs, got a bit carried away.”
My mind wandered for a moment, thoughts of making out with Toni last week, comparing the two lads performance with the lips – have to say that Max was coming in a poor second there. Toni, hmm have to text him later.
“I thought I’d blown things when you caught me in Edeka earlier,” Anna stated.
“You weren’t buying dinner then?”
“When have you ever known me cook? It was the first thing I could think of.”
Further discussion was interrupted by the doorbell.
“That’ll be the food,” Con announced, “gis a hand, Mart.”
“Food?”
“No flies on you eh, Gab?” Pia suggested.
“What’s a party without food?” Stef posed.
“Party?”
“Well duh, baroness, you don’t think we came to see you do you?” Brid delivered, struggling to keep a straight face.
Con and Mart came back in bearing several boxes, boxes three centimetres high and about thirty across – pizza!
“We got your favourite, Gab.” Con told me.
“Pepperoni?”
“Ut uh, double pepperoni, extra cheese and black olives.”
They really do know me!
Maddy Bell © 24.03.2014
*Chapter 26*
Friends Return
“I thought the gig was up when I saw you in Edeka.” Anna mentioned as I took a bite of pepperoni goodness.
“Mwor ur oo ooing air?” I know it’s not polite but I don’t care.
“Getting the drinks of course.” She replied waving a bottle of peach iced tea – I know but it’s actually quite refreshing.
Con’s CD player was pumping out some Euro pop and in between eating and drinking we started to catch up with the summer’s activities. Family holidays, days at the pool, shopping trips, parties – I’d missed a lot, on the other hand I’ve not had a dull summer myself. I don’t know where the time went, one minute it was seven o’clock the next it was closing on ten.
“I’d best get off,” Max declared.
“Yeah me too,” Mart agreed.
I was surprised when they both retrieved motorcycle helmets.
“You’ve got mofa's?” I gushed stating the obvious.
“A man’s gotta have wheels,” Max stated.
“You might be able to keep up with the Baroness, Max.” Pia giggled.
“Give over P!” I huffed.
“Only kidding, Gab, he’s not got a chance.”
That wasn’t what I meant, whatever.
“Mart.”
“Yo.”
“Erm, Bern said to say hi from her and the baby and give you this.” I felt a bit self conscious and not a bit weirded when I dived in to give him a peck on the cheek.
“Whoa, looks like you’ve got competition, Max,” Steff suggested.
“Was just passing on a message from Bern,” I hurriedly told them.
“If you say so.” Brid smirked.
“Give Max one too,” Nena prompted, “he’s looking left out.”
He can stay left out too.
“Guys,” I complained.
“Here, I’ll go first,” Anna volunteered before landing her lips on Max’s cheek.
“Go on, Gab,” Con encouraged.
I’m never gonna hear the end of this am I, I’m still not quite sure about this boy kissing lark.
I think Max was as surprised as me when I dived in, landed one on him and beat a hasty retreat. Don’t think I caught anything.
“Er, um we’ll er see you guys later,” the Baron in waiting mumbled.
“See you guys.” Mart added.
This time they actually did depart leaving me with a flock of giggling Ahr Angels.
“What was all that about?”
“Give over, Gab,” Steff started, “you know you wanted too.”
“Did not.”
“Well we should get off too,” Pia suggested.
“Yeah,” Brid agreed, “we still doing Köln tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Anna told us, “you’re coming right, Gab?”
“Yeah, gets me out of more housework.” Mum had threatened me with window cleaning earlier. “So like the nine o’clock yeah?”
“Thought you were gonna be back earlier,” Mum suggested when I eventually rolled indoors something a lot closer to eleven than ten.
“It sort of turned into a bit of a party.”
“Two of you?”
“The other girls were there too, Con organised it after seeing our car this morning.”
“So, you lot still out to terrorize Köln tomorrow?”
“Uh huh,” I offered as I filled the kettle, “chocolate?”
“What are you after, missy?” Mum accused.
“After?” I asked innocently.
“Yes you can have some of my special stuff, you can make your dad one too.”
Result! Mum’s special hot chocolate is the real McCoy from Switzerland, much better than the slightly bitter stuff we get locally. I brewed up the beverage and after taking Dad a mug I settled back at the kitchen table where Mum was doing some sort of paperwork.
“Mu-um?”
“Wha-at?” she replied without looking up.
“You know when you were my age?”
“Yes?”
“Well um did you like, you know, with boys?”
“No I don’t know,” Jen was a bit taken aback by the question, Drew, Gaby usually beat about the bush.
Drew coloured up a bit, perhaps realising how the question sounded, “Max kissed me earlier.”
Ah, kissing.
“Oh?”
“So did you like, kiss boys?”
“Too right I did! Can’t say they were too shy about it either,” Jen grinned. When her offspring didn’t say anything else she decided to take the initiative. “He’s sneaked a kiss before hasn’t he?”
“Once or twice.” Bond junior admitted.
“And you liked it?”
“I don’t know,” this was getting very embarrassing, “when we were in Italy there was this boy, Toni.”
This was getting interesting, “Oh?”
“We sort of snogged a couple of times.” Gaby admitted.
For someone who spent so much time proclaiming, despite the evidence, her, his maleness this was certainly a bit unexpected.
“Was this Gaby or Drew?” Jen requested for clarification.
“Gaby, geez you think I’d kiss another boy?”
‘Well whichever way you look at it, that’s sort of what you did kiddo,’ Jen mused.
“I take it you enjoyed it?”
“I guess.”
“And you didn’t enjoy Max kissing you?”
“No, yes, sort of, it felt different.”
“So kissing this…”
“Toni.”
“Toni was exciting?”
“Oh, Mum, I went all squidgy an’ everything.”
Jen raised an eyebrow, “And I’m guessing kissing Max doesn’t feel like that?”
“It’s more like being kissed by a seal.”
Jen gave a little chortle, “Yeah, some boys are like that, even your dad when we first met.”
“And you still liked him?”
“Well he’s better now, sometimes you have to practice – a lot. So you like Max then?”
“Kinda.”
“What about this Toni, you not planning on running off to Italy?”
“Not gonna happen!”
“Max? You know he’s pretty keen on Gaby?”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“You’re not so keen?”
“I’m not even really a girl am I, I don’t know what I think Mum, I feel like I’m being pushed into things, none of the other girls have got boyfriends, it’s like I’m their project or something.”
“If you don’t want it, this relationship, tell them.”
“I do but like they even call me baroness.”
“I’m sure they don’t mean anything by it, talk to Max if you’re unhappy about it, I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Understand being dumped?”
“Well it’s not exactly that is it? You aren’t actually going out with him are you?”
“Still.”
After the youngest Bond had rinsed the chocolate mugs and headed to bed Jen went to join her hubby in the lounge.
“Finished, luv?”
“Er yeah.”
“I recognise that look, what’s up?”
“Not sure,” Jen allowed scootching up beside Dave, “I’ve just had a really strange conversation with Gaby.”
“Oh?” as far as Dave was concerned most conversations with their youngest were a bit off the wall.
“You know he, she was seeing a boy in Italy?”
“I didn’t,” Dave admitted, “do I need to know more?”
“Not really I guess.”
“So this discussion?” Dave prompted.
“I think she’s a bit confused.”
“She’s not the only one, one minute it’s all, ‘I’m a man’ the next she’s wanting money for a new dress or something.”
“It’s got to be difficult for her, remember what her sister was like – and she already knew she was a girl.”
“Hormones,” Dave sighed.
“Very likely but as far as Drew’s concerned, the wrong ones.”
“So what do we do?”
“Watching brief I guess, the Doc did say that some form of split personality was a possibility.” Jen mentioned.
“I can’t even imagine how the kid feels half the time, I told you about the tourist board thing in Interlaken on Tuesday?”
“I’m not sure that was a good idea.”
“Her decision, then Wednesday’s dinner, I’m sure the others realised it was her, him, you know what I mean, the lads had their tongues hanging out and the girls treated her as one of them.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Is it? I really don’t know any more.”
Maddy Bell © 27.03.2014
*Chapter 27*
Sleepless in Dernau
Did my conversation with Mum make things any better? I lay staring at my ceiling, sleep unwilling to visit, my mind playing events over and over in my head, snogging Toni, kissing Max earlier, how the experiences felt but failing to turn up any conclusions about my feelings. It’s almost like I’m two different people – Drew, that’s the real me yeah, certainly doesn’t kiss boys, ut uh, no way José. Gaby however has no such hang ups, well boys aren’t off the radar at least and she even has some enthusiasm for a bit of lip locking.
One a.m. came and went, I was surprised when my alarm did a blitzkrieg on my senses just before seven.
Flippin’ eck! Remind me again why I’m getting up at stupid o’clock again?
I blearily stumbled to my shower and stood letting the water do its best to return me to full consciousness.
“Gaby, are you getting up?” Dad’s voice enquired from below.
“Just dressing.”
After weeks of dressing as gender neutral as possible – well except for the modeling stuff, oh and Lilleshall of course, well you know what I mean, today everyone is expecting to see Gaby. Not just Gaby of course but Gaby wearing makeup, hair done and doing the whole girl bit – shorts and t-shirt just won’t cut it. A glance out of the window confirmed the promise of a hot day; Drew inwardly winced at Gaby’s choice – a light cotton dress over sensible, plain underwear. Nothing remotely male about that, no sirree.
“You alright, kiddo?” Mum enquired.
“I guess.”
“Nice dress,” she offered.
“I suppose,” look I’m a teenager okay.
“Gab, what we talked about last night, just be yourself eh?”
“Which one, this or Drew?”
“You’ll miss the train if you sit there much longer,” Dad suggested a few minutes later.
“Bum.”
“You got everything?” Mum queried.
“In my bag…where’s my bag?”
“The one in the hall?” Dad suggested.
“Um thanks, Dad.” I sheepishly allowed.
“What time are you back?” Mum enquired.
“Not really sure.”
“Well ring and let us know if you are going to be late, the Pinger’s are coming for dinner.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“And take a cardigan.”
“Mu-um,” I groaned.
“Listen to your mother,” Dad put in.
Grrr, now I’m gonna have to cart a flippin’ cardi round all day.
“Whatever.” I dashed up stairs; I really will be late if I don’t get off soon. Rather than a proper cardigan, heavy and bulky at best, I located my crocheted shrug, it’s black but won’t look too daft with my pale yellow dress. I made a very unladylike descent to the ground floor, glad that I was still barefoot.
“Cardigan,” I announced brandishing the garment at my parents before stuffing it in the top of my bag.
“Come back in a better mood, eh?” Dad suggested as I pulled my sandals on.
“Hmmph,” I grunted back, “later.”
I made good my escape and quickly headed towards town.
‘I am so not in a mood!’ I huffed to myself, ‘flippin’ cardigan, take your phone, you got everything, ya-di-ya-di-da.”
My chuntering continued all the way to the bakery where the rest of the Dernau contingent were waiting on the pavement.
“Thought you weren’t coming.” Anna opined.
“Parents,” I almost spat, “do this, take that – I woulda been here ten minutes ago.”
“Yow, Gabs, you on?” Con suggested.
“On?”
“She’s on,” they both stated.
“So are we going or what?” I asked ignoring their comments.
The train was a minute late getting to Dernau and was unusually busy. The others had seats but it was standing room only for us – well I managed to perch on the edge of Steff’s seat.
“Gab’s on,” Anna announced to the others.
“I am not!” I’m a boy; I can’t be ‘on’ as she put it.
“Well you’re doing a good impersonation.” Con observed.
“Tickets?” the conductor, a chap I didn’t recognise prompted.
I retrieved my pass and presented for inspection.
“Don’t forget to renew this, eh?” He mentioned before moving on.
“Sugar, I forgot about that.” I moaned.
“We did ours last week.” Nena noted.
“That’s gonna put a dent in today’s spending.”
“You buy it yourself?” Pia asked, “Dad pays for mine.”
“You could get your rents to do it online,” Brid suggested, “mum does that now.”
Now that sounds like a plan, I’ve got the money in my account but it’s nearly €2000 for the Bahn card. I’m sure Dad paid for Jules last time; it’s worth a try I guess.
“So what are we doing when we get there?” Steff asked.
“Usual I guess.” Con shrugged.
“I need to get a day pack for college, we do a field trip next week.” Anna advised.
“It’s gonna be weird without you at Silverberg.” P mentioned.
“I’ll still see you guys.”
“Why won’t you be at Silverberg?”
“Duh, Gabs, she starts college in Koblenz this year.” Nena told me.
“She has been away all summer,” Anna pointed out.
“Yeah I’ve not been here, when did this happen?”
“Well I applied and got a place, I got confirmation about a month ago.”
I hadn’t even thought that we wouldn’t all be together this year but Anna is over a year older than me, she would’ve left secondary school in England this year so it’s not really that different here in Germany.
“So what are you doing at college?”
“Don’t get her started, Gab.” Con cautioned.
“Shut up, Con, natural and human environments which covers all sorts of stuff, biology, geology and so on.”
“Sounds a bit heavy to me.”
The subject of discussion for the remainder of our journey north was set. To be honest, apart from riding bikes I haven’t really given much thought to any future education or career goals. I suppose I’ll have to at some point but that’s in the future, right?
The Rhine Express deposited us into the ever-busy Köln Hauptbahnhof just before quarter to eleven, first stop the toilets!
“So how do we get to this Globetrotter place.” Brid queried.
“It’s not far from Neumarkt,” I offered having been there with Mum a few weeks ago.
“At the far end of Schildergasse?” Nena confirmed.
“Uh yeah, there’s a bit of a short cut we can take.”
“Lead on then, baroness.” Anna prompted.
Not that again, “I am so not interested in Max.”
“She doth protest too much,” Con misquoted from the Shakespeare we did with Herr Viessner before the summer.
Rather than go through the already busy shopping streets I led the way behind to cross into the lesser-known shopping area of Breite Straße. Of course we had to detour through the Opern Passage shopping plaza – bit expensive for teenagers, but there was some nice stuff even if it was more Mum’s style than mine. We continued past the street cafés and dwindling numbers of shoppers.
“You sure it’s this way, Gab?” Anna queried.
“Yeah, it’s down one of these side streets.”
“If you say so.”
To be honest, a bit of doubt was creeping into my head but at the next corner where the pedestrian zone ended I spotted the shop sign about a hundred metres away.
“There it is!”
“‘Bout time.” Steff grumped.
Our little expedition soon entered the huge store, directly into the bit with all the bags.
“There’s a boat down there.” Con mentioned from the rail enclosing the huge space in the middle of the store.
“Told you.” I noted.
“Well I need coffee.” Pia stated.
“There’s a place upstairs,” I offered.
“You guys go get your caffeine, I’ll meet you there.” Anna suggested.
“Okay, come on guys!” Pia enthused leading the way towards the stairs.
“Come on, Con, we’ll take the lift.”
Clearly the others hadn’t spotted the elevator, which by chance was sat waiting for a load. The look of confusion when the others huffed out of the stairwell to find us waiting for them was classic! We made our way past the books and maps to the coffee bar – wonder if Mum managed to drag Dad on that walk, I’ll have to ask them later.
Anna eventually appeared twenty minutes later bearing a big Globetrotter carrier bag, which clearly contained not just a rucky, but other stuff too.
“Get what you wanted?” Con enquired.
“Yeah, it’s got a Deuter back and you can put one of those drinks things in it.”
“A bottle?” Brid suggested.
“No dumbo, it’s like a bag thing that fits in the bag and you drink out of a tube.” Anna explained.
Hmm, I’ve seen something like that in bike shops, “Camel something?”
“That’s it, Camelback, even Gab’s knows what it is.”
“I think mountain bikers use them.”
Hey what does she mean, ‘even Gab knows’?
“So we gonna do some real shopping now then?” Pia asked.
Some of my friends have a one-track mind, must be an over developed shopping gene.
My stomach gave an involuntary rumble.
“Food first?”
Maddy Bell © 30.03.2014
*Chapter 28*
Spot On
Of course we are at the wrong end of Schildergasse for our usual haunt, the Dinea in the Galeria Kaufhof department store so that’s out.
“Where we eating then?” Brid enquired.
“There’s a burger place under C und A,” Nena offered.
Sophisticated city types we might not be, but burgers for lunch, not likely.
“What about the Karstadt next door, they have a restaurant,” Steff suggested.
Well it sounded as good an alternative as we’d find so ten minutes later having retraced to Breite Straße, we poured into ‘Le Buffet’ on the top floor of the Karstadt building. To be honest it’s not that different to the Dinea, same sort of self-service arrangement, similar food and prices to match. It was fairly busy but we managed to commandeer a pair of tables and leaving Pia as table guard, headed for the grub.
Working on the basis that a good feed now should take us through this afternoon’s shopping marathon we were soon loading our trays with a proper meal. I ended up with sausage and mash – not the meal beloved of the UK population but the German version, four smallish Nürnberger sausages, some lumpy mash with creamed cabbage and a gravy style sauce. A glass of Sprite™ and a slice of cheesecake were also destined to help fill my hollow legs – quite a feast and just €10.50!
The others assembled similar feasts, I paid first so releasing P from table wrangling; she was only a couple of minutes behind Anna getting back with her food.
“Let’s see this bag then,” I suggested once the main course was consumed.
“It’s only a rucky,” Anna claimed.
“And?” Con put in.
“Whatever just don’t spill anything on it, okay?”
She passed the Globetrotter bag over to me as she was still heavily involved with a bowl of fruit salad and yoghurt.
“Nice colour,” maybe not my choice, a combination of light blue and fuchsia, a Jack Wolfskin no less.
“They had other colours,” Anna informed us, “I nearly got the orange and lime but I thought it might stand out too much.
“What’s this?” Steff enquired dragging something else from the bag.
“I got some walking socks,” Anna supplied.
“You aren’t gonna wear this on your feet,” Steff observed holding the brightly coloured woolly hat out for us to see.
“It was on offer, three euro,” Miss outdoors advised.
“You’ll need it, Koblenz is so much colder than Ahrtal,” Con chuckled.
“So we hitting the ‘Gasse when we’ve done here?” Pia suggested.
“They had a nice green skirt in Pimkie last week,” Brid enthused.
And so the afternoon programme was set, H&M, Pimkie, P&C – well you get the idea. I didn’t really need anything, some new tights never go amiss and Claire’s had a sale on hair accessories so I got a couple of those donut things you use for making a bun. By the time we reached the Galeria I needed the loo and between us we had accumulated several large carriers of stuff.
Of course the toilets are never downstairs, oh no, third floor next to the Dinea, you have to actually go through the seating area to get there. At least there wasn’t a queue. Of course after a bladder emptying session there’s the whole preening in front of the mirror thing but I had to wait as the others beat me to the sinks.
“Geez that’s better,” I allowed, using my dress as a fan – I did mention it was a warm, no hot day, didn’t I?
“Er, Gab,” Steff started.
“Hmm?”
“You’re um showing.”
“Showing?”
“Knickers, Blut.”
“We said you were on,” Con cackled.
“But I can’t be.” Hmm, come to think of it I did seem to be wetter than usual, sugar.
“You got stuff?” Nena asked.
“Er yeah, back in a mo.”
I was soon back in a cubicle and rummaging through my bag for a towel and clean undies. Of course not having the right plumbing means things should be less messy as I have the drain thing but too much flow and it leaks – remember that day in Wales which was, yup a month ago. I really do need to keep that diary, at least it didn’t happen in Switzerland.
Cleaned up, nappy in place I returned to the world outside to find the others buying ice cream.
“You want?” Pia enquired.
“Of course she does,” Anna stated, “you okay, Gab?”
“I guess, coulda done without it.”
“You and the rest of womankind.” Steff noted.
But I’m not even a woman! I’m, I’m… I don’t know what I am.
“Here you go,” a small tub of ice cream arrived in my hand.
We found seats; you can’t really walk around eating, carrying bags and look at stuff after all.
“What time is it?” I queried.
Con checked her watch, “Just after sixteen.”
“Bum, I’d best ring home, Mum’ll go ballistic.”
“We’ll be home well before seven as usual.” Brid noted.
“We’ve got company for dinner though, I said I wouldn’t be late.” I fished through my bag for my Handy.
“Yeah, we’re on the way to the station now, should be home about six thirty?”
“If it’s going to be later let me know.” Mum instructed again.
“Yes, Mum.”
“I mean it, kiddo.”
“I will, promise. Later.”
Geez it’s only the Pinger’s coming round, you’d think it was Angela Merkel the way she keeps on.
“So I guess we’re going for the next train then,” Con queried.
“I need to, you guys can stay if you want.”
“I’ll only spend more if I do,” Nena stated.
“My feet are killing,” P put in.
“We’d best make tracks then,” Anna suggested, “it’s already twenty past.”
It’s not a long way, maybe half a kilometre but it’s along the busiest shopping street in Köln, Hohe Straße. It’s about as far as a lot of the tourists get so you spend half the time dodging grockles and the rest just trying to follow a straightish course through the sea of bodies. So of course Leverkusen are playing at home, which added more bodies to the meleé and slowed our progress. It was nearly quarter to five when we broke free into the open in front of the Dom.
Down the steps to the Hauptbahnhof, the clock over the entrance showed about eight minutes to the hour.
“Which platform?” Steff asked.
I couldn’t see our train at first look; I was looking after the hour.
“Bum,” Nena stated, “it goes in two minutes!”
“Where?” Anna prompted.
“Er, nine.”
“We can still make it, come on.” Anna encouraged.
So of course every over enthusiastic football fan and doddering grandma in the world blocked our passage. It was a bit Keystone Cop as we dodged first one way then another, almost overshooting the stairs up to Gleis 9. There wasn’t a train at the platform, lots of bodies but no zug – damn we’ve missed it.
“Shitza!” Con proposed.
“Bum,” I agreed, “missed it!”
“Die nächste zug am gleis neun ist die spatter 16:54 Rhein Express vor Koblenz.” The station tannoy announced.
“Yes!” Anna grinned, “Come on, the front cars are usually quieter.”
A glance down the line revealed our transport just clearing the Rhein Bridge, the crowds on the platform shuffled forward impeding our progress, a dodge onto platform eight gave a clearer route. The volume of would be passengers decreased and as the red behemoth overtook us we slowed to a walk and waited for it to come to a halt. There was a bit of a crush as passengers left and joined the train but by some miracle we managed to grab two tables next to each other on the upper deck.
We were barely seated before the station started to roll past the windows; chances are we’ll be on time to make our connection in Remagen.
“That was close,” Steff sighed as she flopped back into her seat.
“All those football fans, they shouldn’t be in the city like that.” Brid offered.
“There was some fighting at Dresden last week.” Nena supplied.
“They should ban them from the games,” Con suggested.
“It’s the extremists, they’ll just find somewhere else to fight.” Anna observed.
“At least you don’t see bike fans kicking off.” I noted.
“You’d have to find the other one first,” Steff giggled.
“No fair!” But not far off the mark I guess.
We’d left Köln almost spot on five, next proper stop was Bonn and we were still tardy by about the same amount, four minutes to be precise. It’ll be tight at Remagen, you get like five minutes to change platforms according to the timetable, more than once we’ve barely made it like that time with Claudia. It’s not far from Bonn and when we started to make the sweeping turn alongside the river that delivers the line to Remagen, we headed to the exit area.
The tone of the motors changed as we slowed into the station.
“It’s still here!” Brid chirped.
“Come on!” I willed the door controls.
We spilled onto gleis drei and joined a bunch of others clearly hoping to get on the Ahrtal Express. Down the stairs, run through the tunnel, up onto platform five, yes! Still there!
“Come on you lot,” a familiar figure chivvied.
“Thanks, Myleen,” I puffed.
“Ah, if it’s not our Radprinzesserin, welcome home.”
A couple of other passengers clambered aboard before Myleen waved her lollipop and blew the whistle. We found seats, this evening’s journey being much less busy than this morning.
“So you been to Bonn, girls?” our friendly conductor asked joining us.
“Köln,” Steff told her.
“Ah, the big city, bit busy for me.”
“There was football today,” Brid supplied.
“Not trouble I hope.”
“Don’t think so but we only got the Rhein because it was running late, it was so busy everywhere.”
“Well I best check some Fahrkarte or I’ll be in trouble, later girls.”
“Bye, Myleen!”
Maddy Bell © 31.03.2014
*Chapter 29*
Joys of Womanhood
It’s at least as quick going up the valley by car as on the train; from Remagen it’s thirty minutes to Dernau on the ‘express’. We spent the journey almost in silence, a long day of travel and shopping having taken its toll. Soon enough we were through Ahrweiler, Dernau the next stop.
“Later guys,” I offered before heading towards the doors.
“Bye, Gab, see you Monday.” Pia suggested.
Monday, yeah, back to school, joy!
Con and Anna joined me and at 18.16 we stepped onto the platform of Dernau Bahnhof.
“Bye girls,” Myleen called out before doing the whistle thing.
“Bye Myleen,” we chorused.
The three of us trudged into town, Anna to retrieve her bike from Thesing’s, at least I’ve only got a few minutes walk, she’s got a good twenty minutes ride up hill to get home.
“Good luck for Monday,” I offered.
“Thanks, Gab, I’m gonna miss you guys.”
“We’ll still see you.” Con noted.
“I know but it won’t be the same.”
For the first time I can recall Anna seemed a bit unsure of herself, I know what she means though – seeing the guys back in Warsop was great but it just wasn’t like it used to be. We hugged and Con and I watched the senior Angel set off for home.
“Don’t you need to get home?” Con prompted.
“Sugar, Mum’ll go potty.”
“Catch ya later.”
“Yeah later, Con.”
You can’t really run in these sandals so I sort of walk – trotted home arriving slightly breathless. No sign of the Pinger’s Passat so hopefully I wont catch it from Mum.
“There you are, good day?” Mum enquired more calmly than I’d expected.
“Okay I guess.”
“Buy anything?”
“Just some tights for school.”
“Wow I’m impressed, advance planning.”
“I suppose.”
“Right then, the Pinger’s’ ll be here in a few minutes, shower and change - tidy please,” she ordered.
“What’s all the fuss anyhow?”
“Nothing, it’s just dinner, oh and George is coming too so nothing too um exposing?”
As if!
“Okay.”
I exited the shower feeling quite a bit fresher although my breasts felt a bit tender and down below was a bit sore too – oh the joys of womanhood, all of which I could do without. The sound of conversation down below indicated that at least some of the dinner guests had arrived so I needed to get a move on.
“Here she is,” Marie announced when I reached the lounge.
The look Mum gave me meant that my choice of clothing was acceptable at least, a denim skirt teamed with a striped top – nothing too revealing but comfortable enough for the still warm evening.
“Evening everyone,” everyone being the senior Pinger’s, George and of course my rents, bum, no Kat.
“She’s out with some friends,” Maria supplied seeing my face drop some.
“Everyone ready to eat?” Mum enquired.
“Ja, ja, I’ve looked forward to the rost biff!” George enthused.
“Dave, can you give me a hand, Gaby, drinks?”
“Yes, Mum.”
So as you’ve probably guessed we were treated to a roast dinner, beef, Yorkshire’s, the full works which despite the weather went down very nicely indeed thank you. I even scored a glass of wine, a nice fruity little number from the Sebenschuh cellars – I’ve mentioned we sneak the odd bottle when we meet at Pia’s haven’t I? We usually have a hot pudding but tonight it was ice cream, posh strawberry and lime before I got the job of serving coffee.
“You all right, kiddo, you’re looking a bit pale,” Mum enquired joining me in the kitchen.
“I guess, forgot my meds this morning.” I admitted.
“What are we gonna do with you?”
“I dunno, can I disappear now?”
“A few minutes, eh?”
“Yeah okay.”
“Everything alright?” Maria asked when she arrived bearing the dessert dishes.
“Maria, you’re a guest.”
“And you cooked us a delicious meal, time of the month eh, Gab?”
“Erm.”
“Gab?” Mum queried.
“I guess,” I allowed, not really wanting to admit that such a thing applied to me.
“That explains a lot, why didn’t you say, love?”
“I didn’t realise until this afternoon,” I allowed.
“What about your diary?”
“Um.”
“Kat was the same,” Maria noted, “It was like having a two year old again.”
Too much information.
“What are we gonna do with you?” Mum sighed.
“So, Gaby, how did you enjoy your first stage race?” George asked when we returned to the lounge.
“It was tiring but good fun.”
“The winner, they often think these things, the last place might not enjoy it so much, eh?”
“I guess not,” I agreed.
“So what was best?”
“Well winning the stage was cool but like all the tactics and stuff.”
“Not the scenery then?” Maria chuckled.
“Didn’t really get much chance to look at that.”
“You couldn’t even see the tops on the queen stage.” Dad observed.
“It’s all the travel that gets to me,” Mum put in.
“That wasn’t too bad, having to do the Kontrolle after every stage was a bummer though.”
“I suppose if you want to catch the cheats it’s a necessary evil.” Maria noted.
“There’s rumours about Lance again.” Dad offered.
“He wouldn’t be so daft, after everything he’s been through.” Mum suggested.
“You would think not,” George mused.
“Rumours?”
“When we bumped into the Gerolstein lads last week they said it’s doing the rounds in the peloton.” Maria advised me.
“He’s taking something?”
“It’s what they’re saying,” Mum added.
“But he wouldn’t, would he?” the guys a hero, he’s won the Tour and stuff.
“I’m sure not.” Maria agreed.
The silence on the part of George and Dad was however not reassuring.
“How did the photo’s come out, Hen?” Dad enquired changing the subject.
“Well I think, the publicity chaps seemed quite happy when I dropped them off.”
“Is anyone from BC coming for the presentation?” Mum asked.
“Dave’s hoping to come but otherwise it’ll probably be Chris Toynbee, the chap in charge of the juniors,” Dad supplied.
The conversation floated around various cycling related subjects, which, whilst I wanted to go hide upstairs, kept me interested enough to remain downstairs. It was quite late when our guests departed so any thoughts of ringing Con or mailing Bernie tonight were replaced by an overwhelming desire for sleep.
“You riding today?” Dad enquired from my doorway.
“Hmm?”
“Your mum and Maria are riding down the river if you fancy tagging along?”
“What time is it?”
“Half eight.”
“Do I have to?”
“You need to do something, you didn’t ride yesterday and they’re only gonna be riding steady, we’ll get lunch at Boppard or somewhere and drive back.”
“Alright then,” I sighed.
“I’ll get your bike ready then, *Mum’ll be back with breakfast shortly so shake a leg.”
We drove down to the Pinger’s where Maria and Kat were waiting for us; Henryck had stuff to do but promised us food on our return.
“Ready then, kiddo?” Mum asked.
“As much as I will be.”
“We’ll take the lane down to Singen, Dave.”
“Okay, we’ll pick you up down there then.”
“Tschuss!” Maria offered.
“Later guys,” Mum added.
I led off and groaned as my legs were forced into action.
“Okay, Gab?” Maria queried.
“Yeah, bit stiff.”
“You did take your meds this morning?” Mum enquired.
“Yes, Mum.”
We were ahead of most Sunday morning traffic, in fact the lane down to Singen had more activity than the main road, a group of ‘club’ riders, a tractor, three dog walkers and an old geezer with his bike loaded up with root vegetables. Dad and Kat were waiting at the bottom for us where we turned south along the road towards Koblenz. I’ve ridden down here so often that I know where all the potholes and drains are, this morning’s relaxed pace allowing me to look about a bit more than usual.
Mum and Maria led the way, chatting away all the time – what they find to talk about all the time I’ll never know.
Maddy Bell © 02.04.2014
*Chapter 30*
Rheined
We bowled along at a pretty steady twenty-five / thirty kph, not exactly race speed but today isn't about that - we know we can race! No today is all about relaxing and getting some steady miles in - there will be enough pressure later in the week. It was still a little misty but it looks certain to be another scorcher later, there's certainly quite a bit of blue sky above us.
I’m sure I’ve told you about this route before; it’s a well-surfaced, wide road following the river south. The others seemed content to let me sit in - at least for now and that certainly suited me. I strained to see the Brohltal Express as we passed however the late summer foliage hid all but the sooty smoke from view although there was a tourist coach in the car park. Maybe one day I’ll have to take a ride on it as opposed to racing it up to Engeln!
We exchanged greetings with several other road warriors, roadies and what looked to be Dutch trekkers all cheerfully returning our waves. After the intensity of just about all my riding over the last month, this was reminding me that you don't have to be charging around the countryside to enjoy riding a bike. Indeed it just felt good to be out in the fresh (ish) air and the warm sunshine without getting into lather.
The pace picked up slightly on the approach to Andernach as we paced then overhauled a heavily laden river barge as it fought against the current. We’d been riding about an hour - nothing in real terms and I felt I could ride like this all day. Of course things couldn't continue so idyllically as we followed the busy main road away from the river to take us directly to Koblenz and the crossing of the Mosel.
I’ve never ridden this way before, either crossing the river to Neuweid, turning up towards Mayen or if we’re in the car we’ll use the autobahn. The road took us in a pretty straight line into the industrial region of north Koblenz before swinging round to trace the railway to and across the Mosel.
“That explains that,” I announced to anyone listening.
“What’s that kiddo?”
“Sign just back there to the Deutsche Bahn Museum.”
“Um?”
“Well I wondered why there were a load of old trains just before you get to Koblenz on the train, they must be at the museum.”
“I think you’re right,” Maria chimed in, “I think Hen went to some sort of event there back in the spring.”
I made a mental note to mention it to Dad, however girly my body thinks it is, upstairs its pure boy – which is why I like model cars and stuff isn’t it?
The traffic increased a bit as we approached the Balduinbrücke, the most we’ve encountered since we set off.
“Eck?” Maria enquired.
“Eh?”
“Yeah why not.” Mum replied.
“What we doing Mum?”
“Few minutes break, go on with Maria, I’ll catch up in a tick.”
I slipped through onto Maria’s wheel as Mum went back I guess to tell Dad the plan.
Clearly they’d done this before as Maria led the way around to the Moselkai and under the bridge to bring us to Koblenz’ most famous attraction. I’ve told you about this place before, where the green Mosel joins the brown Rhein; the ‘Eck’ being the pointy spit separating the two rivers. Maria headed towards the tourist facilities – toilets, gift shop and a couple of food emporia including an ice cream purveyor.
It was still a little early for the tourists but a couple of huge coaches from Denmark were parked up and the Noddy train was waiting expectantly for custom, its green and yellow paintwork almost camouflaging it against the bright sunshine and deep shadows thrown by the trees.
“Ooh, that’s better,” Maria allowed giving her back a stretch after demounting.
“You’re getting old Pinger,” Mum chortled, “you’ll have to become a hausfrau.”
“I’m younger than you Bond.”
“Gotcha!” Mum gleefully announced.
Geez, they’re like two schoolgirls – I should know sort of being one.
“You!”
“Coffee everyone?” Dad enquired having arrived with Kat in tow.
“Please Dave,” Maria agreed.
“Any chance of ice cream?” I asked realizing this wasn’t a two-minute toilet stop but potentially a reasonable break.
“You fetch it,” he told me, “Kat? Coffee?”
“Think I’ll get Eis with Gab.”
Five minutes later I’d blown three euros on a triple cone, pistachio, coconut and blueberry, Kat had a boring single scoop of chocolate mint.
“Hmm.” I sighed letting the warm sunshine warm my face.
“For a little un you certainly eat enough.” Kat stated as we headed to where the adults were sat with their coffee.
“Its ice cream, it doesn’t count as food.”
“Keep telling yourself that girl.” She suggested.
“Geez Gaby, leave some for everyone else.” Mum pronounced.
You’d think I had a bucket of the stuff instead of three scoops.
It was a bit weird sitting there listening to the olds chatting about this and that – I hardly ever even stop when I go training let alone stop for coffee. Do all the pro’s do this sort of stuff? I can sort of see Lance doing it, hmm Lance I can’t believe he does drugs, not after all the cancer stuff, he wouldn’t would he?
“… So I told him no way José,” Maria ended her story – I’d missed most of it, something about some Spanish bloke chatting her up at some race. The others all chuckled; I concentrated on my ice cream.
“We gonna get off?” Mum proposed.
“I’m still eating.”
“You can bring it with you or I’m sure your Dad’ll finish it.”
Not a chance.
The three of us on two wheels set off to transit Koblenz, Dad and Kat would find us on the road south once they’d negotiated their own motorised route through the town. Nothing had been said but instead of the gentle thirty kph before the stop, once we were clear of the town centre the speed went up. Not uncomfortably but enough to prevent easy conversation and once into the countryside we started a mile eating rotation.
Dad had somehow beaten us across Koblenz and we passed the waiting car maybe two kilometres south of the motorway bridge over the river. This is the bit of the Rhein most people recognise, a twisty gorge, railway lines on either bank, Loreley, castles high above, truly the ‘Romantic Rhein’. Of course it’s almost flat, the climb towards the source down in Switzerland lazy enough here to take kilometres for each metre of ascent.
We were far from the only cyclists on the road, the more serious on the road like ourselves, the families and trekkers utilising the wide band of tarmac on the riverside of the road that forms the cycle track. The gorge narrowed as we started the first of several looping turns through Spay and soon after, Boppard. I thought this was where we were headed but we kept going straight through to St Goar.
Old Man Rhein was flowing much swifter here and shortly after the narrow Loreley gorge had the ocean bound waters roiling big style, the big tourist boat heading upstream seemingly standing still as its engines fought the current. Once again the pace went up a notch, this is race pace, through Oberwesel – how far are we going? The river straightened and widened and Dad who had been following us all this way passed us and with a toot accelerated up the road soon disappearing from sight.
I really wasn’t expecting it when both of my companions suddenly sat up; I almost ploughed into the back of them.
“What’s up?”
“Lunch hopefully kiddo,” Mum supplied.
“Eh?”
“In Bacharach, couple of K ahead.”
“So why are we slowed down?”
“Don’t want cramp during lunch do we,” Maria offered.
“Er no.”
“Well a decent warm down should let the muscles relax some before we stop.”
“And we don’t want to get to the restaurant all hot and sweaty do we?” Mum grinned.
“I guess not.”
It took us a good ten minutes riding before I spotted the Merc parked in front of a hostelry overlooking the river. We rolled to a stop, Dad and Kat waiting for us. The ‘Goldene Rhein’ looked to be a fairly typical restaurant cum bar that you see all across the country, beer garden, terrace, big ‘brellas, these emblazoned with ‘Apollinaris’ and surprisingly few patrons.
“Go ahead ladies, Kat and I will look after the bikes, bags are round the front,” Dad told us.
“Cheers Dave.” Mum grinned as she swung a leg over the bars to dismount.
“We sitting outside?” Maria enquired doing her own bicycle ballet.
“Don’t see why not,” Dad agreed.
“Come on kiddo, lets get out of these togs.” Mum ordered.
Get out of, oh sugar; I didn’t bring anything to change into, well my trainers but no clothes.
“Mum?”
“I know, I packed for you,” she informed me, “now shake it, I’m starving.”
The team must come here often; Mum and Maria greeted the staff by name before leading me through to the changing facility – no not a locker room, the ladies of course! Talk about weirding me out; here I am, in the ladies toilet of a restaurant with Mum and Maria having a strip wash and change. I’ve done the whole changing with girls bit, you know I have but this is something on another level, this is them telling me they think of me as a girl.
I did my best not to look as they disrobed and redressed, concentrating on my own transformation.
“Come here kiddo, lets do something with that hair,” Mum instructed.
“Kay,” I agreed with a sigh.
Of course the stuff Mum brought for me wasn’t anything like the shorts and T I would’ve grabbed, no as usual I was getting the Barbie treatment. So lucky me has to wear a dress, not just a dress but some concoction that required a strapless bra and a slip. Oh yeah, I’m screwed over again, the high ponytail just the finishing touch in making me look like some fifties Lolita.
By the time we emerged back into the sunlight the others had loaded the bikes on the car, found a table, ordered drinks and were both perusing the menu.
“Whoa Gabs, no mistaking what side of the fence you’re on,” Kat opined.
“Not my choice,” I stated pointedly as I pulled out a seat.
“Oh come on Gab, it suits you.” Mum stated.
“Well its not comfortable,” I told her as I wrestled to reposition whatever was digging into my boob.
“Gaby can you er…” Dad started.
“What?”
“You’re embarrassing your dad, kiddo.” Mum informed me.
I am? Shitza, I’m doing it again aren’t I, its what Josh was on about the other day, I just don’t think about what I’m doing sometimes – or where.
“Sorry, its this stupid dress, where’d it come from anyway, its not one of mine.” There said it, I own dresses.
“Its your sisters, I couldn’t find anything in that rat hole you call a bedroom.”
What can you say to that? True its not the tidiest place but rat hole?
“So we ready to order?” Dad enquired.
Maddy Bell © 04.04.2014
*Chapter 31*
Educated Guess
Being a growing um girl needing to keep her strength up I had pork medallions with spätzle – a filling combination that in a typically German way looks disgusting but tastes great. Of course I managed to drop some on my front, Kat having to rescue the wayward vegetables from my cleavage before it could migrate further south!
“We’ll have to get you a bib.” Dad chuckled as I dabbed at the grease on my chest.
“Whatever.” I mumped, if I’d had something else on, you know, real clothes it wouldn’t have got down there.
It was a gorgeous afternoon, the cloud having completely burnt off leaving a blue sky marred only by a couple of vapour trails. It was good to see my parents so relaxed, which I think was the point of today’s exercise, take the pressure off before next weekend – I’m sure everyone will be stressed in Denmark! I finished my drink, Sprite™ today and sat back, the sun playing on my face.
I was vaguely aware of the others’ conversation, I guess I must have dozed off as the next thing I recall was Mum shaking my elbow.
“Gabs, come on we’re leaving.”
“Wha?” I offered.
“Time to go,” she prompted.
“Aw, she looked so cute as well,” Kat giggled.
My eyes snapped open; no one calls me cute and gets away with it!
“Why you,” I was up and moving in a flash but Kat had the starting advantage, I gave up the chase before I reached the gate, I mean it’s hardly dignified running in a dress, especially one where your boobs are constantly threatening to make a break for freedom! Not only that but once at the car I found that the moo had stolen ‘my seat’ in the front.
“In the middle, kiddo,” Mum instructed so not only have I lost my front seat but I get the somewhat less comfortable perch in the back, hmmph!
“Back down the river?” Dad enquired.
“You’re driving,” Mum stated.
“River it is, I spend enough time on the autobahns.” Dad observed.
Ever get the feeling you’re in the way? Mum and Maria resumed the conversation they’d been having over lunch but of course with yours truly sat between them it wasn’t an easy discussion. *Though we were now on the river side of the road there wasn’t a lot to see and even with the sunroof open it was quite warm inside the car prompting me to doze off again.
“And this, your Majesty is the Baron and Baroness von Strechau,” the flunky stated.
I curtsied, not easy in a ball gown and stupid ten-centimetre heels I’ll tell you!
“We meet again, Baroness,” the King noted.
“Er, yes, your Majesty,” I allowed recalling that previous embarrassing occasion down in Munich.
“I told you to call me Wills, if I recall,” the recently crowned Monarch observed.
“Um, yes, your Maj, er Wils,” I replied feeling my face turn a colour more associated with tomatoes.
“Baron, I may want to borrow your wife later for a twirl around the floor.”
“Of course, your Majesty,” Max allowed giving the King of England a very precise German bow complete with heel clicking.
The King moved along the receiving line, not before giving me a grin and wink.
“Max!” I complained to my new husband once the entourage was out of earshot, “You could’ve said something.”
“Like what?” he hissed back, “Sorry, your Majesty, she’s taken? He’s the king for heavens sake.”
How we’d got the invite to this reception I’ve no idea, it’s not like our little corner of German nobility is exactly one of the movers and shakers – just the opposite, the family pile is mostly pile, Max makes a living with the restaurant his father started and me, well I just about earn a crust racing bikes. Everyone else here is a part of the ruling ‘elite’, Willie and Marg are supposed to be here – not that I’ve seen the Habsburg’s since our wedding, the Chancellor and all the top politico’s of course and a lot of ‘old’ money.
Technically of course, Wills, that’s King William the fifth of course, could claim entitlement to the century dead German throne – I’ve certainly heard talk of just that and I don’t think it would be unpopular. Tonight’s reception isn’t anything to do with that, rather it’s part of a Europe wide series of events arranged to lift the King’s profile on the world stage. Kate, the Queen, well she’s excused as their third child is expected in the next few weeks, Prince George is almost six and Princess Elizabeth is two so it’s not like they’d travel without their mother.
“Ah, Baroness, a friendly face at last!”
“Your Majesty.”
“I told you, it’s Wills.”
“I think you’d best call me Gaby, then.”
“An English rose amongst all this Teutonic formality, how do you stand it, Gaby?”
“I er, we don’t normally mix in these circles, we’re like um, country cousins.”
“Well country or not, we are related, however distantly, so how about a spin on the tiles with your cuz from the old country?”
I’d never even considered that we had family connections so far away from rural Schloss Rech.
Max is right, when faced with a King in the flesh, you don’t say no to such a request. Wills led me out onto the dance floor where we joined the Hoi Polloi in a polka; you could see the looks of envy and in some cases hatred directed at me. He’s my cousin, by marriage, okay several times removed; I’d so not wanted to be part of the political jungle.
“Your dancing has improved from what I remember, Gaby.”
“More weddings than I’d care for,” I allowed.
“Can you believe they’ve had me taking lessons?”
“No! Really?”
“Yup, wouldn’t do for the King to step on peoples toes, eh?” he chuckled.
The music ended bringing our dancing to an end.
“Thank you, Baroness,” he stated taking my hand and kissing said digits.
“Your Majesty,” I allowed with a deep curtsey, damn frock!
“Away with the fairies again,” Kat’s voice offered.
“You staying there, Gaby?” Mum queried.
“What?” I supplied with a stretch.
“We’re at Maria’s.”
“Already?
“Yes already, you were asleep all the way back, must’ve been a good dream, you kept mumbling something about the king.”
“King?”
“Your dream kiddo, come on, I can smell something that if I’m not mistaken is Hen’s homemade frikadel.”
Dreams being what they are I couldn’t remember any of it clearly, something about dancing, probably the Garde – weird things dreams.
My hand found my alarm and the incessant buzzing finally stopped. Urgh school, demanded by the aged, damned by the youth it’s inflicted upon. With a sigh I flung the duvet back and with a shiver, rose to start the first day back with a shower.
“Show a bit of enthusiasm.” Dad suggested when I reached the kitchen.
“Why?”
“Because, young lady, you need an education and whether you like it or not that means attending school.” Mum cut in.
“Mu-um,” I started to whine.
“And if you don’t get a move on I’ll deliver you myself.”
So look, I’m a teenager, that’s a threat not to be taken lightly. Let’s face it, who at fifteen wants either parent, but especially their mum, to take them to school? Not me for sure, I’d best shake a leg I suppose.
“She never?” Con exclaimed.
“Straight up, said she’d take me herself.” I informed my peers before taking a slurp of caffeine.
“We probably should get off or we will be late,” Steff mentioned.
“Come on, girls, time to move.” Frau Thesing stated dropping our lunches on the table.
“Yes, Mum.” Con allowed.
Our slightly decreased number exited the bakery and we were soon heading down the cycle track towards Ahrweiler and our place of learning. It felt a bit weird pedalling the clunky Schauff along in my pedal pushers, cami and cardigan when at the weekend I’ll be speeding around Denmark in skinsuit and crash helmet on my race bike. Life can certainly be strange.
Of course the first day of a new school year can be well weird, new students looking scared to bits, older incumbents meeting friends, teachers keeping an eye on the arriving mass of hormones. All too soon I was back in the familiar surroundings of Fr. Dürst‘s homeroom.
“So, we are all returned, I hope you all had a good summer.”
“Yes, Frau Dürst.” We pretty much all chorused.
“I have your timetables for you, after registration we’ll sort those out before Frau Boxberg’s address. You are of course the senior class this year so you get to join the teaching staff on the stage so when we go down good behavior please?“
“Yes, Miss.”
“So, Armin?”
“Here.”
“Bond?”
“Gabs!” Steff hissed.
“Ow!”
“Fraulein Bond.” Frau Dürst offered again.
“Yes, Miss?”
Of course this provoked a round of giggles and general mirth.
“I know it has been a busy summer, Fraulein Bond, but you do remember how we do registration?”
“Um yes, Miss, erm sorry.”
“Right then, Ebernsburger?”
“Here, Miss,” Brid offered.
I’m guessing most schools do the big assembly thing at the start of the new school year, here at the Silverberg Gymnasium we get to repeat it at the start of each semester. Of course previously I’ve been part of the mass of teenagers now filing into the sports hall but today we get seats and a view.
“Shift along, Gabs.” Pia requested.
“Not again.” I mumped as I scooted along to the next seat.
“Morning, Gabs.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin, which attracted some titters from those around me and provoked a heated response from my face.
“Strechau.” I allowed.
“You alright? You look a bit flushed.”
“I um.”
“Time of the month.” Pia thoughtfully whispered across to Max.
Thank you, Fraulein Sebenschuh, just what I needed.
Maddy Bell © 12.04.2014
*Chapter 32*
Normality
Frau Boxberg and Mr Woods, you remember, he’s the Head teacher at Warsop College, are cut from the same cloth, it’s probably an EU law or something. Why is that relevant I hear you ask, well read on and all will become clear.
“She must use the same script every year,” Nena whispered from behind me.
I could believe it; we’ve already sat through nearly half an hour of welcoming and inspirational speech and my bum’s numb from the uncushioned chair I’m perched on. Some time ago I tuned out The Boxberg’s voice and moved my attention to looking out over the gathered masses. It’s quite a big school, drawing pupils from a wide area but even so I realised that I knew, at least by sight, a lot of those sat below, were they having similar thoughts as they looked up at the stage? I was of course a little taken aback when I heard my name mentioned.
“…won the prestigious Helvetia Jungere Cup event over five days just last week and will be representing her country at the Weltmeister series in Denmark later this week, Gaby?”
Sugar! I did a quick straighten of my attire before standing to receive the applause that the Head was leading, of course the blood rushed to my face. I gave a little finger wave, you have to do something don’t you, the worst thing though were the cat calls and whistles. They weren’t hostile, the opposite in fact but such innuendo and comments directed at me only added further colour to my face before I returned to my seat.
“I hope Gaby and her friends in the senior class will inspire at least some of you to make a difference in the community and encourage you to push your personal envelope a little wider. That’s enough from me; I’ll turn you over to Herr Müttermann who has some important notices for you.”
“Talk about embarrassing,” I observed as we headed back to our form room.
“Good job she doesn’t know all the other stuff eh Gab?” Brid supplied.
“Other stuff?” Mart queried.
“Bernie? The baby?” Nena offered.
“What about them?”
“Gab was there.” Brid mentioned.
“Yeah, so?” Mart asked.
“Who do you think delivered the baby?” Pia put in.
“Dunno, who?”
“Gaby did dumkopf.” Brid stated.
“It wasn’t just me,” I told them.
“S’not how Bern tells it.” Steff added.
“She never said anything to me,” Mart told us.
“Well she’s hardly gonna talk about child birth with her BF is she now?” Brid noted.
At least it was someone else colouring up this time.
There’s no rest for the ambitious, after lunch when I became the subject of much pointing and whispering, we had Herr Viessner for English before Phys Ed. I’m excused that on the grounds I do enough out of school which essentially gives me a free period, as long as I sign out I can go home. So today as the others play volleyball or whatever you find me donning lycra to get a couple of hours steady riding in.
I did one of my usual circuits – up to the telescope then back across to the river before returning up the valley to home. I hadn’t really been looking at the time so when I heard my name being called as I came off the bypass I nearly fell off in surprise.
“Hold up Gabs!”
I looked over my shoulder to identify the caller or more correctly callers. Over the road the girls were urging their assorted beasts into a little speed, what the heck, I’ve done my training. There was a ramp onto the cycle track fifty metres ahead so I made the decision and by the time I’d waited to cross the road the others were just approaching.
“I don’t know how you do that.” Pia gasped.
“What?”
“Speed up like that, one second you are cruising along, the next you are off like a Porsche.”
“Practice?” I offered as I fell in next to Con.
“So how come you guys are so late?”
“We’re hardly late, well maybe ten minutes,” Steff advised.
“So where’ve you been?” Brid enquired.
“Effelsberg and round.”
“But that’s towards Bad Munster, how come you’re coming this way?” Steff asked.
“I just said, I went round to Remagen.”
“But it’s only just after four.” Con noted.
Not bad, thirty five average. I shrugged, “I got held up with a tractor going out of Altenahr.”
“Geez Gab,” Pia sighed, “oh I nearly forgot, Hannah wanted me to remind you that Garde restarts next week.”
Garde, bum, I sort of volunteered to help with the cheering didn’t I.
“I hadn’t forgotten.”
We reached Dernau and split up, well me an’ Con go the same way.
“Wanna come round later?”
“Sure,” Con agreed, “not seen this trophy thing yet.”
“Bout an hour?”
“’kay.”
“That you Drew?” Dad enquired.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Nothing, you’re sister’s supposed to be back today.”
Oh of course you don’t know do you? Jules has been in Warsop while I’ve been gallivanting around Europe, I think she was staying at Aunt Carol’s – it hadn’t been fixed when I left.
“How come you aren’t picking her up?” I asked as I divested myself of my sweaty shirt.
“She didn’t want me to and to be fair the coach drops off next to Koln railway station.”
“That’s right, down by Maccy D’s.”
Why anyone would want to spend hours on a coach when you can fly in an hour is beyond me.
“Gaby!”
“What?”
“Cover yourself up young lady!” Mum instructed.
“eh?” oh sugar, not again, my hands shot to cover my bare chest, the jersey is one thing but my damp sports bra was a step too far in the kitchen. “Sorree!”
I returned downstairs, showered and dressed with the remainder of my cycling kit for the washer.
“Still no Jules?”
“She rang, there’s a problem on the line, she’s waiting for a bus to bring her down to Remagen.” Dad advised.
“Um, sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to er expose my thingies.”
“You need to think about what you’re doing a bit more kiddo, your Dad told me about Josh in Switzerland.” Mum told me.
“Yes Mum.” I sighed.
“So what are you up to tonight?” Dad asked.
“Con’s coming over in a bit.”
“You remember that it’s your cooking night?” Mum mentioned.
Sugar, “er no, I thought we could get pizza?” I offered.
“Hmm, I guess we can,” Mum agreed, “Alright you’re let off, we’ll order when your sister gets back.”
Yes! It’s not like I hate cooking but it cramps what you can do sometimes.
"Geez Gab, that’s huge!"
"Yeah, I could hardly lift it at the presentation."
"Only thing I’ve ever won is a fish at the fair." she lamented.
"It’s not like you do sports or anything is it? I pointed out.
"There is that," she grinned.
"Come on, there’s some stuff I want to show you upstairs."
we clomped and clattered up to my eyrie, even I get out of breath making the climb, no wonder the olds very rarely get this far.
"Phew, glad I don't have to do that every night."
"You get used to it."
"Still, so what did we have to come all the way up here for?"
"Hang on a sec, there's some pop in the fridge." you think I’m going all the way down to the kitchen when I want a drink or get the munchies? Dad let me buy this mini fridge before the summer, you can get like six cans in it so at least it’s cool, my room can get pretty warm which doesn't make for good pop drinking.
"You want one?"
"Er Sprite please."
"So?"
"Hang on, I’ll get it out."
I haven't got the biggest wardrobe in the world so everything is packed in quite tightly - I really should dump some of this stuff, old cheer costumes, that damned Chii costume from way back, ah, here we go no idea how it got this far back.
"What’ve you been buying now?"
"Buying? Nothing, ta da!" I brandished the Swiss landeskostum at her.
"What the heck is that?"
"Payment for a job." I gloated.
"Job? Well get it out, let’s have a look?"
"Hang on."
"Sheesh Gab, what did you do, this must be like two, three hundred euros!"
"I told you about the photo shoot yeah? This is what I had to wear, hang on there's some earrings and stuff too."
"Not just a pretty face are you?"
"Here, they match the dress."
Con shook her head, "you are unbelievable mädchen, I’d get a bar of chocolate you get an expensive dress and jewellery."
"But you're a much better cook than me."
"If you say so,” Con sighed. "So when do we see these pictures then?"
"They’re supposed to be posting some prints soon; I did pinch some of the race posters though."
"Whatever for?"
I unfurled one of the tubes and held it in front of me.
"Who, hang on, that’s you."
"In the print."
"But that’s not this dress and you've got some fancy lace thing on."
"Well spotted Sherlock, this was from the first shoot."
"You only mentioned one."
"Oops!"
She shook her head, "Gaby Bond!"
Maddy Bell © 16.04.2014
*Chapter 33*
Bond Girls
“You guys want Pizza!”
Hey I recognise that voice, “Jules?”
“That’s me, so what do you want on the pizza?”
“Pepperoni with olives? We’ll be down in a mo.”
“And you owe me,” Jules stated.
“For what?”
“Bringing all the stuff you left in Warsop back.”
Con giggled behind me.
“A…er thanks.”
“Twenty minutes.” She instructed before disappearing from the stair well.
“So what did you leave in England, girl?”
“Probably some underwear, I didn’t really take that much. Oh I’ve got her birthday present here somewhere – best give it to her.”
“She’s 17 now, right?” Con observed.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“So what’d you get her?”
“This really neat manicure thing,” I told her as I rolled up the poster, “it’s like a Swiss Army knife, cost fifty francs.”
“How much is that in real money?”
“Er,” I did a quick calculate, “’bout forty five euros I think.”
“Nice present, can I be your sister?” she fluttered her lashes at me which soon had us both in stitches.
"So," I started sometime later, after Dad took Con home, "what did I leave in Warsop then Jules?"
"You want an inventory?"
"Just the stuff I guess, I thought I packed everything when I went to Manchester."
"Your usual level of packing is to miss half your stuff."
"And you're Miss Perfect I suppose."
"Girls!" Mum warned, "Give your sister her stuff, Juliette and, Gaby, thank your sister."
"Sorry, Jules, thanks for bringing it."
"Yeah whatever, there’s an M&S* carrier on top of my case."
"Thanks, I suppose I’d best go to bed."
"Might be an idea," Mum noted.
Of course I couldn't not look in the bag so once up in my eyrie I tipped the contents on my bed. There was that all in one thing Bern's mum donated after Andrea was born, a dress that I borrowed from Mad, the stuff I got conned into in Nottingham and the stuff, originally Jules' that I borrowed when me and Mand stopped at Gran's. Nothing too bad or embarrassing - where my cousin is involved anything can and usually does happen! I stuffed it all back in the bag, it can wait until tomorrow to be added to my wardrobe.
"Someone’s perky this morning," Frau Thesing observed.
"Last day of school!"
"You’ve only just started again,” she pointed out.
"I told you, Mum, Gabs is going to Danmark for some cycling championships tomorrow." Con supplied.
"Not any old championships, it’s the worlds." I gushed.
"So you will bring back a fancy trophy eh?"
"Hopefully." I beamed.
Mum's always warning about being too confident but for some reason this morning I felt that I could take on Lance and beat him.
"Well good luck then, now off to school you lot, I don't want Frau Boxberg on my back."
Why, when you want the day to go quickly does it always drag? Herr Viessner's English class seemed to last forever and this year we do Social Studies with Frau Boxberg, I was yawning after ten minutes! Lunch took five minutes then the afternoon lasted ten hours but eventually it was over and I joined the girls for the ride back up the valley.
"Good luck,Gabs!"
"Stick it those foreigners!" Brid added to Pia's cheer. Well it was the thought that counts I guess.
"Thanks guys."
"See you next week." Nena suggested.
"Yeah, laters."
"Take care, Gabs, Glück!"
"Cheers, Steff."
That just left me and baker girl.
"I wanna see that striped shirt on Monday."
"We don't get back till late Monday," I pedantically pointed out.
"Well Tuesday then," she sighed.
"I’ll do my best."
"Mind you do, failure is not permitted!"
"Yes Sir!" I replied with a snappy salute.
"Are you all packed, kiddo?" Dad enquired?
"I think so."
"Spare shoes? Something respectable to wear to dinner?" he pressed, my string of previous kit failures clearly preying on his mind.
"Er check... er I’ll just make sure."
"One day," he sighed.
And I suppose you never forget anything, Dad.
Departure was early; it’s a long drive up to Roskilde. It wasn’t made any quicker with the detour to pick up Roni – Angela and her Dad are flying up at the weekend as they both have to work. It was already after nine when we picked up the E34 towards Hannover.
“All this driving sucks.” I moaned.
“Think of your dad doing the driving,” Mum suggested from up front.
“So how comes we have to drive?” I further complained.
“I told you last week, kiddo,” Dad replied, “cost and logistics, four bikes, spares, everyone’s cases, the airlines would’ve fleeced us good and proper.”
“The guys from England are flying,” I grumbled.
“Their bikes aren’t, Mike and Darren are catching a ferry tonight, BC have several vehicles coming over by sea to keep costs down.”
“Still, I bet we’re the only ones driving.”
“You’re like a broken record,” Mum hinted, “I’m sure Roni doesn’t want to listen to your whingeing, I know me and your father don’t, play I-Spy or something.”
“We’re not little kids, Mum.”
“Well you’re sure acting like one, young lady. You okay, Ron? You’re very quiet there.”
“Fine thanks, Frau Bond, just feeling a bit off colour.”
“Well shout out if you need us to stop.”
“I will, but I’m fine really.”
“How about playing towns?” Dad offered.
“Towns?” Ron queried.
“It’s a bit lame really,” I told her, “you start with the place that you’re leaving then the next person has to name a place starting with the last letter and so on.”
“What if you can’t think of anywhere?”
“It gets passed onto the next person, winner’s the one with least passes,” I stated.
“So who starts?” Roni kind of enthused.
“Drivers privilege,“ Dad told her, “we’ll start with Dernau, Gab, you got a u?”
U? Why’d he have to start us off there? There must be somewhere.
“Come on, Gabs.”
“Okay, I pass.”
“Uelzen!” Ron immediately told us.
Sounds made up to me.
“They’ve got some fancy railway station, I was reading something in Bild about it a few weeks ago,” Mum confirmed, “hmm n, let’s see Nürnberg, g Dave.”
And so The Game of Towns was started.
We had a toilet stop just before Hannover and a longer halt for lunch somewhere near Hamburg. It didn’t seem that we’d been going long after eating that we turned off the autobahn and started to follow signs for ‘Gedser (DK)’.
“Soon be at the ferry,” Dad announced.
“Ferry?”
“How else do you think we get to Denmark, kiddo?” Mum queried.
“By road?”
“Long way round for where we’re headed,” Dad told us, “and I get a decent break on the ferry too.”
“How far is it on the other side,Herr Bond?” Ron asked.
“Couple of hours if we get a clear run, should be at the hotel by eight at the latest.”
It wasn’t the best of roads to the docks and the Rostock – Gedser ferry terminal, Dover it’s not! Dad had us booked on the three thirty sailing, we were checked in by quarter past and loading five minutes later. Compared to my recent cross Channel experience these guys were slick with a capital S, bang on half past we were on our way.
The Prinz Joachim is about the size of the smaller Dover ferries but I have to say, a lot posher!
“We got enough Krone Dave?”
“I think so, the exchange rate on here will be diabolical, if we need more we’ll find a bank.”
“What are Krone?”
“Dur, Gabs, Danish money?” Ron supplied.
“Don’t they use Euros? I thought they were in the EU?”
“They are but like Britain they’ve stuck to their own currency,” Mum told me.
“Coffee?” Dad offered.
Two hours later we joined the motorway north towards Nykøbing / Falster – well that’s what the signs said anyhow. Apart from the road signs it didn’t seem much different to the last hour or so of our journey in Germany. If anything it was flatter and we’d been going for forty minutes before the biggest indicator that we were not on the main European continent anymore, the Falster – Sjaelland bridge.
This wasn’t a river we were crossing, no its actual sea, the Ostsee or Baltic if you like, not so unusual for the Danes but quite a novelty for us landlocked Germans. Okay so I’m not strictly speaking German but we do live here and I sort of identify as much with my adoptive home as my birth country. We had been on the go for something like twelve hours when we arrived at our accommodation, a country club type place with an unpronounceable name – Skjoldenæsholm - all I want to do is sleep.
* Marks & Spencer - biggest supplier of knickers in the UK
Maddy Bell © 05.05.2014
*Chapter 34*
Welcome to Denmark
Of course bed wasn't going to be the first thing on everyone else’s mind - food took pole position.
"You feeling alright, Gab?" Ron queried as we waited for the lift to take us down to the restaurant.
"Yeah, just tired."
"Never thought I’d see the day dynamo Bond would choose bed over food."
"Ha de ha."
"I can't believe we're in another country again, Schweizer last week, Danmark this."
"Yeah, regular jetsetters." I mumped as a ding announced the lift’s arrival.
"Oh come on, Gab's, it’s not that bad."
"You aren't the one in the dress."
Ron punched the button for the restaurant before replying, "You lost the game by fifteen points," she pointed out.
"I still think I should have got Syllt."
"It’s the island not the town."
"Whatever, I still don't see why I had to put on a dress."
"Well you packed it," she pointed out.
She had me there, I had packed not just one but two dresses, a skirt and even the ballet pumps I have on my feet.
Ding!
The doors slid open and we exited the lift and headed for the restaurant, the sound of cutlery on china giving a handy clue as the signs in Danish might as well have been written in Swahili.
"There you are, girls," Mum chirped as we headed towards where my rents were sat.
"She’s still moaning about Syllt," Ron grinned taking a seat.
"Am not!"
"Drinks are on their way," Dad put in.
"Well I think I’m gonna stick to a jacket tater," Mum proposed.
To be truthful I don’t know how she picked that out from the mystery collection of symbols in the menu, all those crossed o’s and too many syllables.
“I don’t suppose they do schnitzel?”
“We can ask,” Dad offered, “Roni?”
“Think I’ll do the folienkartoffeln with cheese.”
“Where’s it say that?”
“Here,” Ron pointed to a row of letters, “kartofler danablu.”
“If you say so.”
“Kan yie yehl-per die?” a voice queried from behind me.
“Sprechen sie Deutsche?” Dad queried.
“En smool,” our waitress offered, which I assume meant not.
“English?” Mum proposed.
“Yes, yes English,” a clearly relieved servitor agreed.
“Can we order please?” Dad posed.
“Vadh skoo deh vay-ah? Oh sorry, what like you?”
I think maybe she needs to work on the English!
Ron and Mum’s jackets were easily ordered, Dad went for something called ‘engelsk bøf’ – at a guess it’s roast beef of some sort.
“And for the small girl?”
Bloody cheek!
“Gab?” Roni prompted.
“Er do you do schnitzel?”
“Schnitzel?”
“Um, pork escalope?
“Pork? Ah Svinbrissel, yes, here,” she pointed to the menu, “with French fries and salat or sham-pin-yong.”
Sham-pin-yong? Oh right, mushrooms, guess that’s like Wiener schnitzel, “salat bitte.”
She collected the menus and left us to our drinks.
“What’re you laughing at?” I enquired of Ron.
“Nothing really.”
“Must be something, my dress undone or something?” I enquired checking the zip as I did so.
“No, no, it’s just your Dad, he asked if she spoke German.”
“Yeah,” I agreed with a frown.
“But you are English.”
“So? Oh right.”
I guess when you look at it like that it is a bit weird, to be honest it seems weird when people talk in English, German has become my usual language. Thinking about it even at home, unless Jules is about we usually speak mostly German – going to the English school in Bonn Jules’ German isn’t as good as the rest of us.
The food was okay – not exceptional but definitely expensive, if my calculations are right it came to well over a hundred euros! Glad I’m not paying!
I yawned loudly.
“Someone sounds like they want their bed,” Mum observed.
Well I did say before dinner.
“I think we can all do with some shut eye,” Dad agreed, “another busy day tomorrow.”
“Yeah but not driving all day,” I mentioned.
“Think I’d rather be on one of those new carbon saddles than in that car again all day.” Roni opined.
I know how she feels.
I slept fitfully, I think I saw every hour turn over, Ron snores which didn’t help – oh yeah we got to share a room and whilst I’ve shared accommodation with other girls it’s the first time with Ron. Awkward or what – not that Fraulein Grönberg seemed to be bothered no it was me changing in the bathroom and acting all coy.
“Gnaaar.”
For heavens sake, Ron.
“Gnaaar-erl.”
“Ron.” I hissed.
“Gnaaar, hmm.”
“Ron!”
“Hmm, wha?”
“You awake?”
“Wake,” she mumbled.
At least the snoring has stopped.
“Wazzup?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“That all? Be that schnitzel,” she suggested into her pillow.
“Maybe,” I agreed, it was quite late when we ate, “what do you think our chances are?”
“Hmm,” she rolled over onto her side, I could just make out her face in the dim light coming through the curtains. “What time zit?”
I checked my little travel alarm clock, “Ten past three, you think either of us have any chance of winning?”
“Dunno, I guess, we did okay in Schweiz.”
“I suppose, but it’s different here.”
“‘Ow so?”
“Well there’s no second chance.”
“Never is.”
“You know what I mean and there’ll be lots of riders we’ve not seen before.”
“Not so many from out of Europe.”
“Hmm but that Australian did win last year.”
“The girls top three were all from Europe though, go to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Just close your eyes.”
“They are.”
“Good night.”
That’s me told. I heard her resume her previous sleeping position but thankfully there wasn’t any resumption of the nasal sawing - well not before I finally entered the land of nod.
“Pity we haven’t got more time,” Dad offered as I took a slurp of my coffee.
“Why’s that?” Mum enquired.
“There’s a tram museum next door.”
Mum rolled her eyes, “and?”
There was bound to be an ‘and’.
“Some nice archaeology between here and Roskilde.”
“You and your rocks, we aren’t meeting the BC people until twelve, I’m sure we can squeeze in a quick visit.”
“We have to drop Roni off.”
“The German’s are based less than a kilometre from us.” Mum pointed out.
Why didn’t we stop at the team hotel last night? It would have made sense but firstly Dad didn’t want to just dump Ron and secondly we couldn’t get reservations as BC have block booked the whole place, a lot of the senior squad arrived yesterday apparently, just us juniors turning up today.
“Suppose we could, alright with you two?”
“As long as I don’t have to walk miles.” I pronounced.
“What she says,” Ron agreed.
“Thought you were supposed to be in boy mode today,” Roni observed as we dragged our bags out to the Merc.
“I am, shorts, tee shirt, trainers,” I pointed out my attire.
“You might want to lose the earrings and eyeliner.”
Sugar! The last thing I want to do is turn up at BC central looking any less male than usual.
“You got any remover?”
“In my bag, we’ll clean you up in the car.”
“Cheers Ron, you’re a life saver.”
“So I’m told,” she grinned, “so I’m told.”
Maddy Bell © 11.05.2014
*Chapter 35*
Old Lejre
“So just what are we looking at?” Mum asked as Dad went all David Bailey.
“Drew’s got the leaflet,” Dad offered as he lined up a low angle along the row of stones.
“Well kiddo?” she prompted.
“Erm, it’s called Skib something ningen, it’s all those weird letters,”
“Gab, get on with it,” Ron chided.
“Yeah, yeah, lets see, okay, it’s the last surviving ship shaped burial place and dates from about five hundred, that rock in the next field is supposed to be a bit of one of the others.”
“So its Viking then?” Ron queried.
“It doesn’t say,” I observed scanning the brochure.
“Yes Ron,” Dad agreed, “anyone up for a walk up the barrow?”
Mum decided to give it a miss but me and Ron joined Dad for the short walk.
“So is this Viking too?” Ron asked.
“No, this is older, I’d guess Iron Age.” Dad told us, “Not everything in Denmark is Viking, where’s that plan kiddo?”
“Here Dad.”
“Cheers kiddo, now lets see, we’re here.”
It was a pleasant morning, clear skies above, a bit of light mist in the valley bottoms broken through in places by some fairly big trees.
“So,” Dad started, “behind the village there is the remains of the Lejrehall which is where lots of Danish legends are based. Can you see that big mound, the one with the tree behind it, that’s supposed to be Bronze Age.”
“What’s that line of trees?” I asked our guide.
“Says here it’s the Ledreborg Avenue, it runs up towards Roskilde for about seven kilometres.”
“Wow,” Roni allowed, “So what about that mound over there?”
We turned to look where she was pointing.”
“Hmm, the map calls it Ravnshoj, Raven House I guess, I’d guess its either Viking or Iron age, maybe a bit big for Viking, they’re usually smaller.”
“What if it had a king in it?” I proposed.
“There is that,” he admitted, there are some pretty big Viking age burial mounds in Denmark.”
“There’s nothing like these in Germany is there.” Ron stated.
“Maybe not like the Ship burial but there are all sorts of cairns and stuff, especially in northern Germany, maybe sometime I’ll have the time to go and see some of them.”
Dad resumed his photographic antics until Mum’s tooting of the car horn sent us scampering back down to where we were parked by the road.
“What’s the name of this hotel?” Dad queried.
“Hang on,” Mum requested, “Hotel Svalen.”
“Its not exactly in Roskilde is it?” I mentioned.
“There it is,” Dad told us as he slowed down to turn in.
“That looks like Mike’s truck.” I observed as we turned into the car park.
Dad parked us up close to reception and we climbed out of the Mercedes, Ron a little hesitantly as she was in the ‘enemy’ camp. Even with Dad’s Old Lejre stop we were still plenty early, the bulk of the junior squad at least wouldn’t be here for at least an hour.
“Come on, lets see if we can find anyone in charge,” Mum suggested, heading towards the entrance.
“I’ll stay here,” Ron stated.
“Don’t be daft, they won’t bite.” Mum offered.
“I’ll stay too.”
“Alright then, don’t get into mischief please.” mater instructed.
“We won’t be long,” Dad added.
“You coulda gone,” Roni told me as we perched on the Merc’s rear bumper.
“Coulda,” I agreed, “but we need to guard the bikes, never know who’s about.”
“Whatever, I hope our team have a good hotel.”
“You had better than us in Switzerland,” I observed, “that place in Interlaken was well expensive.”
“We stayed in a crummy pension on the way home though.”
“This place doesn’t exactly look posh,” I allowed.
“Come on in you two,” Dad yelled from the door, “coffee and cake waiting.”
Now you’re talking!
“Come on Ron, nothing ventured.”
Dad waited for us to join him then led the way to the restaurant where Mum was having an animated discussion in some foreign tongue with a couple of women in BC trackies.
“Ah,” Mum directed her attention towards us, “blah, blah, blah, Drew blah Roni.”
What is she rattling about?
“Er hi,” Ron offered.
“Güten tag.”
“English Drew?” Dad prompted.
English? Oh sugar, that’s what all the gabbling is, they must think I’m a right plank.
“Er sorry,” I offered in my ‘mother’ tongue.
“Drew, Ron this is Lizzie and Sarah, they’ll be riding the road race on Saturday with me.”
"So you two looking forward to riding the Worlds?" Lizzie enquired.
"Bit nervous," I allowed.
"Don’t fret on it," Sarah advised, "you guys having coffee?"
"I’ll get them," Dad offered.
We moved to a table where the conversation turned to the seniors past 'Worlds' experiences, the fact that Lizzie wet herself when Mum won the title, was it only two years ago? That was a bit more information than I needed to know! Dad seemed to be gone a long time just to fetch some coffee.
"Sorry I was so long," Dad apologised when he eventually arrived with a tray of coffee and a couple of slices of triple chocolate cake, "I gave Dieter Huhn a call to check where you're going Ron, he's gonna pop over to pick you up in about an hour."
"Josh and the rest will be here by then," I noted.
"So you just doing the road Roni?" Sarah enquired.
I wasn't sure how good Ron’s English really was, we mostly use German but she seemed to understand the question.
"Nein, we have only one strecken platz which was given to me so I erm multiple ride."
"Strecken platts?" Sarah queried.
"The Germans only qualified one girls place this year," Mum explained, "the German for time trial is some great long word so we just use Strecken."
"Its a good job you're good with languages Jen," Lizzie noted, "that’s the one thing I’m dreading when I go to Italy next year."
"You’ll soon pick it up Liz, I was crap when I first joined Apollinaris eh kiddo?"
"Not great," I allowed.
"A diplomat at least." Sarah stated. "So you're doing the double too Drew?"
"Um yeah, think they wanted to keep the numbers down, I’m not that good."
"Don’t do yourself down, there's a rumour going round that some mystery rider caused a bit of an upset in Cheshire a week or two back?"
My sudden flush gave me away - I’ll never be able to follow the family trade!
"I er..."
"The pair of them wiped the field in a two up a few weeks ago too," Mum supplied.
"Like mother, like daughter eh?" Lizzie opined.
"Er something like that," I mumbled into a fork full of cake.
We'd been 'chatting' for a while, when I say we, mostly the adults around the table, when we were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Ah the Bonds, you found us then?"
"Dave," Dad acknowledged director Brailsford, "long drive but easier than flying."
"Don’t talk to me about flying, Dave Millar flew in yesterday, his bike didn't - ended up in Milan somehow."
"Sorted?"
"Eventually, hopefully Caroline's bringing it with the kids. So who's this frightened young lady?" he enquired with a twinkle in his eye.
"One of my charges, Roni Grönberg meet our head of performance Dave Brailsford."
"The one from the Olympics?"
"Indeed, of course I remember you Roni, that was some excellent riding in the Swiss Tour, you and young Bond here make a formidable pair."
"Beauty and the beast," I suggested.
"Okay beauty," Ron chuckled.
She got me right back with that one.
“We’re using the conference room for the bikes Dave, if you go left in reception it’s straight ahead.”
“That’s a point, we need to Roni’s kit unloaded, Dieter will be here in half an hour.”
“Dieter Huhn? The German coach?”
“The same, he’s coming over to collect Roni.”
“If I’m not about tell him hi.” Mr B requested.
“Sure, you two gonna give me a hand?” Dad hinted.
“Yes Dad,” I sighed.
“Nice to meet you Roni.”
“And you too Herr Brailsford.”
There’d been a few spots of rain while we’d been inside; just as well Dad fetched us inside. Dad got the bikes off the roof while Ron and myself lugged the cases into reception. But of course nothing is so simple, Mum and Ron both had two bikes, road and time trial, I only had my road iron as I’d be using one of BC’s carbon beasties for the Strecke.
We’d barely got everything inside before the simultaneous arrival of more liquid sunshine and Dieter Huhn.
“Great timing Deet,” Dad mentioned.
“I’ve been practising, so how’s my number one rider?”
“Who’s that?” Ron enquired.
“Tell her Dave.”
“I think Dieter means you Ron.
Now it was her turn to pick a shade of red to colour to!
Maddy Bell © 14.05.2014
*Chapter 36*
Roskilde
“Glück!”
“To you too,” Ron offered as we separated from our hug.
We probably won’t get a chance to talk between now and the end of hostilities – the girl’s events are run off separately here with the senior women’s events. It’ll be weird riding without any of the girls about, either the Apollinaris lot or Mand and co.
“See you Sunday.” I allowed.
“Yeah, tschussie!”
“Tschussie.”
Roni and Dieter had no sooner departed than a minibus pulled into the forecourt, not your converted van thing but really a small coach belonging to a local, I guess, company called Roskilde Tur if the name on the side is anything to go by.
Caro was first down the steps followed in short order by my teammates on the junior squad.
“Get your bags then wait in reception, guys.” My godmother directed.
“Welcome to Roskilde.” I smirked.
“Always has tae be first,” Jamie opined.
“Someone has to be.”
“But, Bond, it doesn’t have to be you.” Cav put in.
“So how was the flight?”
“Cramped,” Sal complained, “you’d think there would be space to stretch out a bit.”
“At least you didn’t get to spend two hours stuck next to a stinky fat man.” Laura supplied.
“It wasn’t two hours, it was an hour and a half like.” Josh noted.
“Whatever, it was not pleasant.”
“Better than twelve hours in a car,” I observed.
“Twelve hours?” Daz queried.
“Yeah, nightmare.”
“Come on you lot, you can talk later,” Caro chivvied, “you already checked in, Drew?”
“Not sure, Dad was looking after that stuff.”
Turns out the hotel had some triples so I was bunking with Mum and Dad; Josh was in with Mark and Jamie – embarrassment and questions avoided, as it all seemed quite logical. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t Caro demanding we appear front and centre in bike kit – haven’t we done enough training?
“Okay,” Steve started, “our four time triallists will be with Caroline and Dave, the rest of you get me for a leg stretch.”
There was a round of groans but I guess after our recent experiences we all had some understanding of the merits of even a short ride after travelling.
“Come on, Drew, times a wastin’,” Caro chivvied.
“What?” I hadn’t realised I was daydreaming.
“I know it’s a squeeze but we aren’t going far,” Dad advised as we all squeezed into the Mercedes, which was now loaded with a double brace of BC time trial machines.
We made our way out of Hedehusene and into a more rural landscape.
“You’ll get a chance to ride the course in the morning, the roads will be closed so we’ll talk about that tomorrow,” Caro opened, “this afternoon is mostly reacquainting you with the bikes and doing a bit of fine tuning.”
“Thought we sorted all that in Italy?” Sal suggested.
“Preparation isn’t a closed box, it’s a constant reappraisal of kit, position and technique.”
“Sounds like the weight weenies*” Geth observed.
“To some extent but we’ve talked about this before, the backroom boys want us to try using power meters for racing and you guys are the guinea pigs.”
“Great,” I sighed.
Meanwhile Dad had pulled into a lay-by behind a UK registered car sporting bike racks and BC logos.
“Ah good, Rod’s already here,” Caroline mentioned.
“Who’s Rod?” Mand whispered.
“No idea.”
Dad was already decanting the first bike from the roof rack by the time we riders climbed from the car.
“Caroline,” a chap about Dad’s age greeted our coach, “good flight?”
“So so, you know Dave?”
“Sure, how you doing, bud?”
“Getting by,” Dad allowed as the pair shook hands, “you?”
“Not so bad, Dave tells me you’ve resisted his offers.”
“I’ve got other commitments, Rod.”
“Well you’re here now which says a lot. So, these are our testers eh? I thought there were two lads, Caro?”
“There are, Gethin here and the little blond one’s Drew, Dave’s kid?” she hinted.
“Oh yeah sorry, Drew. So who’s Amanda?”
“That’s me,” Mand allowed.
“Which makes you, Sally?” he addressed Sal.
“Just Sal.”
“I know who you guys are but I guess you’re wondering who I am. Names Rod Ellingworth, Rod to you, I’m BC’s senior performance coach which, for my sins, puts me in charge of getting the best out of you guys. I know Caroline and Dave have been doing their best to hone your skills and I know you are all competent time triallists, it’s my task to make you world beaters.”
He paused and gave us an appraising look.
“What makes a world champion tester, anyone?”
“Strong legs?” Sal offered.
“Okay, anyone else?”
“A really light bike.” Geth supplied.
“That helps but it’s not what I was looking for,” Rod stated.
“Mindset?” I put in.
“Ah, someone’s got it, I’d’ve been surprised if you hadn’t, Drew, with your pedigree, yes, good legs and even the lightest bike and best technique won’t make you a winner without the right mindset. Clearly with the events just a day away we haven’t got time to get too heavily into the psycho babble stuff so we’ll go over some basic stuff before we get you on the bikes, okay?”
What can you say? He’s the boss.
When we eventually got to ride, the first few minutes were spent just getting a feel for the bikes again – last time out we had a mountain to climb, here in Denmark the course has a motorway bridge! That meant that the bikes now sported close ratio cassettes and of course the Powa cranks – not sure how it works but the screen on the bars showed some curiously high numbers.
“Okay guys,” Caro got our attention, “the power meters have been programmed with each of your data that we took on the static tests in Manchester. We aren’t going to time you this afternoon, rather we want you to ride to the meter – if you slack off it’ll beep at you so keep it quiet. We’ve got some numbers worked out so we have an idea what each of you should do – it’s only ten kilometres so you can give it your all for the full distance, Mand you’re up first, then Geth, Sal and Drew, you get pole.”
I watched each of the others start, critiquing each of their styles, Geth’s stomping, Sal a slower, smoother acceleration and Mand a messy cross between the two. Smooth and fast Drew, smooth and fast. Dad straddled the rear wheel and held it upright using the saddle rails as I clicked in and settled into my start routine.
“Thirty!” Caro announced.
Deep breaths, relax.
“Fifteen…ten…five, four, three, two, one and go!”
I strained at the pedals and my mount rapidly accelerated which allowed me to get seated and on the tri bars before I’d covered fifty metres. The beeping from my bars ceased and I settled into the ‘zone’. It was a little distracting, the flashing figures on the screen, 290, 301, 289, 322, I tried to ignore them and concentrate on breathing and pedalling. Denmark is pretty plain but that doesn’t mean it’s flat, although not climbing a lot in metres the road dipped and rose several times before the first turn after which the route dragged away into the distance.
Ahead of me on the long straight the figure of Manda was clearly visible, the others not which gave some idea of the length of the straight. Concentrate, don’t start thinking about stuff! Pedalling action, keep it smooth. It felt like I was accelerating, a change up a gear soon returned my legs to a slower cadence, a quick glance at the screen showed 347, can I get it to 350?
The gap between Miss De Vreen and me was clearly closing; by the next turn it was perhaps half a minute. She was clearly fighting to get the pedals round in a high gear but the untidiness was slowing her as much as it gained. A definite climb rose ahead, that must be Geth I can see near the top giving it some; have I taken any out of him?
I was now steadily if quite quickly closing on Mand, the closing speed apparently increasing as we started the climb although the screen numbers had actually dropped below 340. The final turn was at the top of the hill and it wasn’t many metres afterwards that I passed her. The road rolled away to where I could just make out the cars parked in the lay-by.
There was only one sprocket left to use and I dropped the chain onto it, my cadence momentarily dropping as I compensated for my effort. I ground the pedals round, no need to save anything in reserve, anything left at the end is waste. The red mist started to descend, no too soon, hang on I need to breathe!
So intent was I on using every bit of energy I’d let my breathing go from long steady breaths to short inefficient gasps. Concentrate! I calmed my breathing down and the raggedness immediately started to smooth, my legs whizzing around, the big gear driving me quickly towards the line. I zipped past the cars and sat up, letting my momentum carry my legs round as I slowed from something like 45kph to a much more pedestrian fifteen or twenty.
I crossed Geth who seeing me just shook his head before hanging it once more to draw in several large lungfuls of air. Sal was a little further along literally spewing her guts – well whatever she had for lunch at least.
“You alright?”
“Bluh!”
Nice.
I stopped beside her and whilst watching someone losing their lunch isn’t high on my most wanted things to do, my presence seemed to calm her down some, the retching quickly changing to more of a dry heave.
“Shit, Gab, how do you do that?” Mand got out between gasps as she joined us.
“Do what?”
“Just sail up the flippin’ hills, I thought I was doing alright then this, this missile zooms straight past going quicker than I can manage on the flat.”
“I doubt that,” I noted, inwardly grinning to myself.
Sals ‘colourful’ end to the ride was at least over now.
“Cheers, Gab, hope there’s some water or something at the car, my mouth tastes…”
“I think we get the idea,” I butted in.
We turned around and headed back towards the lay-by some three hundred metres distant.
*Disparaging term used to describe riders who constantly weigh and change their bikes in pursuit of lightness to gain any advantage over the opposition.
Maddy Bell © 20.05.2014
*Chapter 37*
Powered Up
We spent another couple of hours practising starts and making adjustments, from time to time a group of riders would hurtle past pursued by a car or two. Our bikes were back on the roof of the Merc when a shout of ‘testers!’ attracted our attention – our teamies along with Mum, Lizzie and a couple of other women – I’m guessing Sarah but I’ve no idea who the others are. We shouted back and watched them pass, Steve riding moped in the rear.
“Come on you lot, let’s get back and look at your numbers,” Rod prompted.
Well at least with two cars the drive back to Hedehusene was a bit more comfortable; just as well, four sweaty bodies in one car on a warm day would be a bit much.
“We’ll see you back at the hotel.” Caro called as she joined Rod and Geth in the BC car.
Rod took off in a cloud of dust, clearly a demon driver or maybe just a bit too enthusiastic.
“So, girls, what do you think?” Dad enquired.
I seemed to be included in the question, Dad seems to have come to terms with having a second daughter better than I am being said daughter. I don’t want this weekend to be my last boy time, I don’t want being a boy to end – I never wanted girl time to start but clearly I’ve got no say where my body is concerned.
“He can be a bit intense,” Sal offered.
“Yeah, he had me do that start seven times,” Manda added.
“He’s been getting results on the boards,” Dad noted, “Drew?”
Perhaps he wasn’t including me before.
“I suppose I do stick my elbows out a bit.”
The drive back was really the first chance I’ve had to take in the countryside, there might not be any big hills but the rolling nature reminded me a bit of the north Midlands back in Blighty. The biggest difference really is that the roads are straighter and the hedges tidier, I guess they might grow different stuff but it feels ‘comfortable’. It only took about ten minutes to return to the Svalen where Darren was waiting to take over custard of the bikes – I’ve no doubt they’ll be polished and tweaked to perfection for tomorrow.
“Okay, get yourselves cleaned up, lounge in thirty minutes.” Rod instructed as we disembarked.
“Bring your dirty kit down,” Caro added as we headed inside.
The others weren’t back yet so at least we’d get first dibs on the facilities.
The room I’m sharing with the rents isn’t exactly spacious – swinging a cat might be out but the bathroom is quite generous so I grabbed a towel before using that space to strip off. It seems a bit weird showering in a room I’ve not yet slept in – okay it’s me, there isn’t really anything odd about it but it always seems a bit odd to me. I was somewhere in the middle of the hair wash cycle when I heard the outer door open and voices – I guess Mum’s back.
I finished up and suitably covered up; don’t want to expose myself to Dad again, left the bathroom.
“Good ride?”
“Cleared the cobwebs,” Mum allowed, “you?”
“Okay I guess, we’ve been using power meters which is a bit weird.”
“I think some of the men’s teams have been playing with them, bit pricey for Apollinaris.”
“They expensive then?” I queried as I absently plaited my still damp hair.
“Something like a thousand euro each plus you need all the computer stuff.”
“And us juniors get to use them?”
“It’s the future I guess, it shows how committed BC are to the development programme.”
“Sugar, that the time?”
“Looks like it.”
“I’m gonna be late,” I whined as I dug through my bag for clean knickers.
“Calm down kiddo, more haste less speed.”
I’ve never worked that out really, however a slightly more ordered search quickly found some pants and a bra, add a loose t shirt and cargo’s et voila.
“See you later.” I called to Mum who was now herself in the shower.
“Shut the door!”
I skidded into the lounge and whilst the last to arrive I wasn’t late, quite.
“Right everyone,” Rod started, “we’ve downloaded your results, quite interesting, we’ve only used them on the track before so the interpretation needs to take into consideration the road conditions which we’ve not had to do before.”
The five of us were huddled around a table away in a corner, the laptop working overtime as it generated the data. It wasn’t as I expected Rod telling us what it meant but a two way thing, our input helping to interpret the numbers. It sort of seemed logical that you needed more power on the up hills but that didn’t explain the spike on Mand’s graph on the last climb.
“That must be where I caught you.” I noted.
“That right, Amanda?” Rod enquired.
“Well I know it was on the climb.”
“Interesting,” he made a note.
“Geth came past me there too,” Sal observed.
Rods fingers briefly skated over the keyboard resulting in both the girls’ data being shown on the screen.
“Hmm, not as much as Amanda but still an increase which you then hold to the finish.”
“So we need a string of people passing us to go faster.” Mand sighed.
“Not at all, when we look at Drew’s graph he has a similar issue,” he clicked a key and my data replaced Sal’s, “whilst he starts off fairly low, you can see his effort goes up on each of the climbs but doesn’t drop all the way back so he’s getting an incremental increase throughout but on the last climb it goes up a lot more.”
“‘Cos I was catching Mand?”
“Very likely, so you push harder when you catch someone and they in turn push harder when they are caught.”
“I thought I was going flat out all the way,” Geth observed.
“So what’s this all mean,” Sal enquired, “and how come Drew’s figures are lower than Gethin's?”
“It means we need to reassess some of our figures, as to why Drew’s figures are lower, that’s to do with his power to weight ratio and aero dynamics. I’m not sure I understand it all myself but a smaller, lighter rider uses less energy for the same speed.”
“So I have to try harder because I’m bigger?” Geth asked.
“Pretty much,” Rod agreed.
“No fair!”
“It’s not quite that simple, you should have more endurance for example, not so important this week but very much so when you join the senior ranks.”
“So how’s it coming on?” Director Brailsford asked when he joined us a little later.
“We’ve new stuff to consider and I think we’ve all learnt something.”
“Good, good, worth using tomorrow?”
“I reckon so,” Rod allowed, “anything we can get, it’s a more reliable measurement of effort than watching a speedo.”
“Let’s do it then!”
Decision made, meeting over the four of us were released to join the others – hope dinner isn’t long, I’m starving!
“Sugar, I forgot my dirty kit,” I observed as I spotted the laundry basket as we headed out of the lounge, “I’d best fetch it now I guess.”
“I think your mum might’ve put it in.” Mand suggested, “I saw her drop some kit in while we were with Rod.”
“Hers, she wouldn’t’ve brought mine.”
“If you say so.”
So of course I went all the way up to our room to find my kit wasn’t there, for once she had picked up after me – it’s usually the other way around.
“So?” Mand queried passing me a glass of something that looked a bit like iced tea.
“Okay, you win.”
“Ha!”
“Tha girls were just telling us aboot the power meetas,” Josh mentioned.
“Sounds a bit Star Trek to me,” Darren told us.
“Mum reckons they cost like a thousand euros.”
“Each?” Laura asked.
“Yup.” I agreed.
Jamie let out a low whistle; “you could get an engine for that.”
“Not much of one,” Mark snorted.
“Never guess, Drew,” Claire put in.
“Guess what?”
“Your mum…”
“Your mum beat me in a sprint,” Mark sighed, “I had at least a length at fifty.”
“Yeah but Jenny wins a lot of sprints.”
She does? Hmm I guess she does, I’m usually going on about my latest race all she ever tells me is the result, I never even thought whether there was a sprint or a break or whatever involved. Maybe I should talk to her more, everyone else seems to know more about her racing than I do!
“You ever beaten her, Drew?” Geth asked.
“Once or twice,” I allowed.
“Probably let you.” Darren suggested.
“No I don’t,” Mum’s voice chimed in from behind him, “if Drew beats me it’s on merit.”
“I er,” Daz started.
“I put your kit in the laundry, Drew.”
“Um thanks, Mum,” I allowed with some embarrassment.
“Dinner’s in twenty minutes everyone.” She advised before heading back inside.
“Reminds me of Como, this, sat out in the sun chillin’,” Laura sighed.
“Yeah, you could get used to it.” Sal agreed.
“Heard from Italy lately, Drew?” Mand queried.
I saw Josh’s eyebrow go up some.
“Er not since we got back.”
“Ooo, gossip,” Mark grinned, “I bet it was that Maria from the beach.”
“She was quite a looker,” Jamie noted.
“Let’s go eat,” I suggested as a diversionary tactic, “I’m starved.”
“Last one in cleans the bikes!” Daz threw out having already assured it wouldn’t be him by already being at the door.
“Why you!” I let out having got wedged behind the table.
Maddy Bell © 21.05.2014
*Chapter 38*
Race Day
Friday, race day, my first appearance at the cycling world championships, hopefully not my last. So okay it’s just another race, how many have I ridden this year? Twenty or Thirty I guess, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous as hell this morning. I’m probably not the only one but I am the only one bunking with his or her mother who just happens to be an ex World Champion.
“Come on, kiddo, big day today.”
“What time?”
“Quarter to eight, you need to shake a leg if you want breakfast.”
“I don’t know whether I can do it, Mum.”
“Do what?”
“Race.”
Jen inwardly sighed and sat herself on the bed.
“What’s brought this on?”
I sat up, inadvertently exposing a breast.
“Good job your dad’s already downstairs.” She leant over and pulled my jarma top closed, “So, what’s up, spud?”
“I’m not good enough, I’m gonna look a right idiot.”
“Whatever gave you that idea? Last week you won the biggest junior event on the calendar, rode up mountains, won a bunch sprint and from what I hear, pretty much directed how the team rode.”
“I guess.”
“So what’s changed?”
“I dunno.”
“Tell you what, let’s get some breakfast then we’ll have a chat with Caro, if you really don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
“’Kay.”
“Caro?”
“Morning, Jen, what’s up?”
“Why’s anything need to be up?”
“Come on, Jen, how long have we known each other?”
“Alright, it’s Drew, she, he doesn’t want to ride today.”
“Shit, anything we can do?”
“Not sure what, I’ll get some breakfast down her, you free for a chat in say forty minutes?”
“’Course I am, I’ll find somewhere we can talk undisturbed.”
“Sorry about this, Caro.”
“Not your fault, Jen, I’ll need to prime Dave, we might be able to put a sub in if it comes to it.”
“Sure, kids, who’d have ‘em?”
“You obviously and I think you and Dave have done a pretty good job.”
“Sometimes.”
“Whatever, see you later.”
“Who was that?”
“Just Caro, come on, there’s a rumour they have sausages.”
Jen’s hope that breakfast might lift Drew’s mood was dashed, the wunderkind just pushed the food around the plate and no cajoling made any difference. It didn’t help that the rest of the squad were happily laughing and joking a few tables away. Manda went to join them clearly sensing something was up but with a mouthed ‘later’ Jen deflected the intrusion. Drew’s choice of clothing was a clear indication to anyone in the room that something was amiss, even Jen was in bike kit but Drew had put on a t-shirt and jeans.
“So, Drew,” Caro started once they were settled, ”your mum says you don’t want to ride today.”
“Yeah, I mean no.”
“What about Sunday?”
“I dunno.”
“Well we need to know, we might be able to get a reserve over, after qualifying for five spots it’d be a waste to not use them all.”
“I guess.”
“Come on, Drew, it isn’t like you to pass up a challenge, is it something that’s been said?”
“Not really.”
“We can’t help if we don’t know, Drew.” Caro sighed.
“Sorry.”
“Well if your mind’s made up we can’t make you ride, I know everyone’ll be disappointed, the girls in particular look up to you.” She hadn’t wanted to lay the guilt trip on him but it was nothing but the truth.
“I’ll ride Sunday.”
“We’ll have to take it to Dave, if you dip out of today for no reason he might not want you potentially disrupting things more, we’ve invested a lot of time and money in getting you all ready for this weekend, it wouldn’t be fair on the others. It’d probably be best if you go home, keep the disruption to a minimum.”
“No, I mean you can’t do that, how’d I get there?”
“I’m sure your Dad’ll take you to the airport.”
“But, but…”
“I think it’ll be best if you wait up in your room until we’ve got it arranged,” I hope this works!
“But what about the others, what will they think?”
“I’m sure we’ll come up with something to tell them.”
Drew hung his head, the tears started to well up, yesterday anything was possible, this morning everything was in tatters, chucked off the squad he’d worked so hard to get onto. They wouldn’t want him back would they; he’d blown it big style and couldn’t even say why.
“What do you reckon?” Jen asked her friend after installing Drew back in their room.
“Talk about a curve ball, Jen, I just don’t know what to say, you spoken to your Dave?”
“Not yet, thought we could try subtle before I told him.”
Caro checked her watch, “Bum, I’ve got to get the others to the circuit for the training session, you got to get out there too?”
“I’ll miss it if I have to.”
“Don’t be daft, you can’t afford not to do the recce.”
“She’s my child.”
“And my god child. Look I reckon we’ve got until about ten thirty, Dave can take the others, we’ll just say Drew has a stomach upset, I’ll have another bash when you lot are clear. If it’s still a no I’ll have to get Boss man involved, we’ve probably blown it for subbing today but we can get Gethin on the line for Sunday.”
“You think pulling Drew from the road race is necessary?”
“Sorry Jen, but I do. Firstly I don’t want to risk a repeat, if the kid isn’t committed all our efforts could go up in smoke. Secondly, if we make a tactical withdrawal it leaves us options going forward, there are some at BC who’ve been questioning Drew’s inclusion on the squad, we don’t want to give them fuel for the fire.”
Jen nodded to herself, “Okay Caro, I’ll leave it with you, I know she trusts you.”
Drew stared out of the window, a few pale grey clouds scudded across the otherwise blue sky above the patchwork of parched meadows and cereal fields just visible beyond the railway line.
It’ll be a good day today, the forecast keeps it dry with a dropping north westerly, Dad said the circuit loops out towards the coast before returning to Roskilde for the finish – should make it pretty rapid. Maybe I can get that eleven sprocket going, should make some mega time up if I can, there’s no real climb or anything so there’s nothing to gain or lose, it’ll be raw power!
But I’m not gonna be there am I? Caro pretty much told me I’m kicked off the squad, going home – I won’t even get to see Mum ride.
The beeping of a mobile phone is always difficult to ignore, when its your own doubly so. Drew resisted the challenge long enough for it to stop; it was in young Bond’s hand to check the caller ID when it started afresh.
“Tag, Bond,” he answered before realising he was supposed to be ignoring the damn thing.
“Drew? Is a Toni.”
“Didn’t see your young un this morning Jen, she alright?” Lizzie enquired as they rode towards Roskilde and the time trial course.
What could she say, No, she’s got cold feet and won’t be riding? Best go with the party line.
“Wasn’t feeling so good, something she ate I think, Caroline’s acting as nursemaid.”
“Probably a bit nervous too.” Sarah offered.
“Yeah,” Jen absently replied, I hope so.
None of the other three time triallists seemed overly concerned about Drew’s absence, so okay it wasn’t the best news in the world but Caro’s cover story of him resting up was readily accepted. Bond senior wasn’t so easily gulled but sensing there was something going on the others didn’t need to know, agreed to take mechanic Darren along on the reconnaissance ride.
“Well he did look a bit peaky at breakfast.” Sal observed as they waited to join the other riders on the course.
“That was a big pile of that herring salad stuff he had at dinner.” Gethin noted.
Hope she’s alright didn’t look like stomach ache to me, Mand mused, “Yeah the thought of it turns my tum.”
Caroline absently pushed her coffee cup across the table, glancing for the hundredth time at the church clock just visible through the trees, five to ten, I’ll go up at ten, I’m not looking forward to breaking this to Dave and Steve.
“Thought you were supposed to be taking the testers on the recon?”
Caro almost jumped off her chair, “Dave.”
“Recon?”
“Dave and Darren are taking them, something came up that I needed to sort out.” Sugar, I’m lying to the Boss now, I’m dead meat when he finds out.
“I trust that this ‘something’ has to do with our business here this weekend?” Mr Brailsford pressed.
“Yes, just a loose end, you know me always making sure everything goes to plan.”
“Do I need to know any details?”
You’ll know all too soon. “Er no, its just about sorted now, slight technical hitch, nothing to worry about.”
“Now I am worried, we’ll talk later.”
“Isa big decision,” Toni opined, “if it eez the right one for you I cannot say.”
“I think it is,” Drew told the Italian, “guess I’d best find Caro.”
Maddy Bell © 23.05.2014
*Chapter 39*
Decision Made
"Caro!"
"Drew!"
"Caro I’ve decided."
Caroline didn't need to know what the decision was in words, the fact that Drew was wearing his skinsuit answered that question.
"Come here, kiddo."
He didn't need a second invite and he gripped her tightly.
"Sorry," he sniffed.
"What made you change your mind?" Caro asked as she stroked her charges hair.
"I realised, well Toni really, he like said I should do what was right for me and I realised that I was possibly gonna throw everything away for no reason other than I felt cranky this morning."
"As long as you're sure it's what you want."
"I am, you wouldn't really have sent me home would you?"
"Probably not," she admitted, "I was hoping to change your mind and it was the most potent threat I could think of."
"So what happens now?"
"Well you've missed the course recce but it's not the end of the world put your training gear on and meet me in the bike store."
"Okay."
Caroline was pleased to see that if not 100% at least a good chunk of the kid’s cheeky persona was back - now to get everything cleared up with the Boss.
"Bit of a crisis of confidence," Dave Brailsford supplied.
"Uh huh, Caro agreed.
"Any idea why? We don't want any kind of repeat Sunday."
"Hormones? The kid does have some issues."
"Tell me about it, no don't. Bad stomach you say that herring I saw him tucking into last night is my guess."
"Yes, Boss."
"And, Caro."
"Yes?"
"Keep me in the loop if anything like this ever happens again."
"You got it, Boss."
When the rest of the time trial squad returned a little after eleven thirty it was to find Drew outside under the mechanics Ezy-Up in the middle of an intensive turbo session. Caro reasoned that a power workout might actually be of more use to Drew than the reconnaissance ride – the others could fill him in on that but sharpening his speed could make all the difference.
“And… end.” Caro instructed, “Ten minute warm down.”
Drew took the offered bidon and sat up to take a slug of the contents.
“Someone’s made a miraculous recovery.” Dave observed when Caro joined him.”
“Officially it was too much herring, Jen’ll fill you in later, ears.”
“Things are sorted now though?”
“Don’t worry, Dave, she wasn’t getting out of training that easily so we’ve had a one on one power session.
“Come on you lot, shower then straight into lunch,” Dave ordered the others, which stalled any gossip with Bond junior until lunch.
“So for the benefit of big belly here can we get a run down on the course guys?” Caro requested as they finished up their by necessity light lunch.
“It should be quite fast,” Mand offered, “there’s only one real climb then it drops to the first turn, after that it’s mostly rolling, apart from the motorway bridge towards the end.”
“That’s at 37 kilometres,” Dave mentioned.
Unlike the fixed distance events in the UK, time trials on the world stage were as likely to be a weird number of kilometres as not, this time the juniors had a 38km lap, the women 53km.
“There was some crap road between the two turns,” Geth noted.
“Yeah, it’s like tar over concrete, I ended up riding right in the edge although some of the drains are pretty bad.” Sal added.
Drew had sketched a rough map on a napkin and marked all the intel on.
“Kit people?” Dave asked.
“Might be a bit exposed for full disks,” Geth opined.
“We’ve managed to snag some of the new deep section wheels from Mavic,” Caro told them.
“Sounds good,” Drew grinned.
“So, anything else we need to be aware of?” Caro prompted. There being nothing else offered she went on, “Okay, let’s get this show on the road, skinsuits on and out front with your kit in fifteen minutes, it’s a fairly tight schedule this afternoon.”
“Come on, girl, it wasn’t food poisoning this morning was it?” Mand demanded as they queued to sign on.
“Never said it was.”
“Caroline said you had a bad stomach.”
“I did, I think I had too much herring.”
“There was rather a lot on your plate,” Mand agreed.
“Well I um couldn’t shift it this morning?”
“TMI!”
“You did ask.”
The girls would be starting first, there were only forty slots, whilst in theory every country could send a rider the reality is that outside of the ‘established’ cycling countries hardly anyone else entered the girl’s event. The boy’s event is twice the size but only about half could be considered to be in contention. There is some seeding, which has placed me in the last five starters who start at two-minute intervals – that’s sort of cool but it does put extra pressure on us.
Switzerland was pretty slick and in some respects today was less so, more restrained certainly and less of the advertising that is such a feature of cycle racing events. On the other hand every rider is permitted a following car just like the seniors, Steve and Mike will be following me with my road bike and spare wheels. As I looked around the paddock where I was casually spinning a low gear on the turbo the variety of machines was amazing, I don’t want to seem snooty but I reckon the BC steeds are amongst the best here.
Gradually the number of lads waiting dwindled to be replaced by the senior women, Mum included.
“Good luck, kiddo.”
“And you, Mum.”
“Remember there’s only one thing that matters out there.”
“Going ‘round quicker than the rest,” I interrupted, “I know.”
“A hundred and ten percent.”
“Hundred and twenty,” I offered in return.
As Mum went to start her own preparation my mind briefly recalled what happened in Mexico when she lost out to that Vinelli woman by a handful of seconds after puncturing. * Two days later she was pulling on the Rainbow jersey – hopefully we can avoid the puncture bit this time! Not only that I could be going home on Monday with a striped jersey too!
We didn’t have a starting ramp like Switzerland but we did start under a tent thing – can you imagine this on the Cuckney tens?
“Okay, Drew?” Caro asked as she wheeled me towards the start pen.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Confident?”
“I’ll give it my best shot.”
“That’s all we can ask, go slay ‘em,” she added gently squeezing my shoulder.
The countdown beeped away and the German with the English name, Tony Martin set off into the sunny Danish afternoon.
“Bondt?”
“Yep.”
Waiting one minute can seem like eternity, two is like the wait for Christmas, interminable! A few hours ago I was petrified of this moment, now I’m here I just want to get on with it. I concentrated on positive thoughts, the new wheels, the fine weather.
“Sixty!”
The holder straightened me up and I settled myself ready to start.
“Thirty!”
The last call, next would be the countdown beeps. I’ve no idea if it really makes much difference but at this point I always start deep breathing, slow and even.
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeeeeep!
That was it, no fuss, time to go! Yesterday’s start practice session with Rod meant instead of my usual sprint start I accelerated somewhat more smoothly away from the start, I was into the tuck quicker and with less effort. Question now is can I use everything I’ve learnt over the past weeks to get the result we’ve been working towards?
Having missed this morning’s ride around the circuit I was effectively blind even with the intel passed on from the others. You remember the location of potholes, the sharp corner, the poor surface but it’s stored away and only returns to your consciousness when other visual clues draw them out. It’s not that the others were holding out on me, just they couldn’t remember those details.
The small crowd of spectators quickly dwindled and then it was just me and the open road. I had the thirteen spinning nicely, the wind was surely behind me as the speedo was holding forty eight kph edging a little higher on the couple of little dips. Even pedaling is what you want and I concentrated on keeping everything about the ride smooth
It’s not like I’m going to catch the Martin kid is it? – That’s not being defeatist, two minutes is like giving away best part of a kilometre and we’ve only got thirty-eight altogether. No not overtake but hopefully close the gap some and hope that the American Farrar starting behind me can’t pull the same number on me!
The first hurdle came after a little over five of those kilometres, the Tune roundabout. At least there were warning signs; my teamies hadn’t even mentioned it although I’d seen it on the route map. It was just too big to take a straight line through it; I nearly overcooked things on the exit almost clipping the curb before correcting my line.
Fast and wide the road swept coastward along a continuous right hand curve, the lack of elevation preventing any real prospect of seeing anything more than half a kilometre in front. The distance to turn one seemed to melt below my tyres, then wide into the corner, pedal straight through ooof! The bike juddered almost uncontrollably across the corrugated surface, how come they never mentioned this?
It didn’t last fifty metres before being replaced by the tarred concrete that Sal and Geth mentioned, hmm ride the gutter? The wind, distinctly less strong than when I started, was now blowing at almost a full ninety degrees to the road that actually made riding at the road edge a little easier. I almost hit one grate, did hit the next but my luck held and both tyres kept their air.
I’m glad I’ve not got discs in, even these deep aero's are catching the wind a bit, the solid wheels would be a nightmare! The final turn hove into view and I started to line myself up to go ‘round. I’m still not entirely sure what happened next, one second I’m looking up the road, the next I’m sliding across it – maybe a patch of diesel, whatever it was it wiped me out doing something like forty five kph.
* See Book 3 Chapter 27
Maddy Bell © 24.05.2014
*Chapter 40*
Down But Not Out
Mike was with me almost as soon as I stopped moving, “You alright?”
“Bike, bike!” I shouted by way of reply.
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
“Yes!” I desperately replied climbing to my feet, nothing’s broken at least.
Mike deftly refitted the unshipped chain and gave the bike the quickest bike check I’ve ever seen before allowing me to remount. It felt like minutes but the adrenalin was pumping now as I got my feet re-engaged and returned to Bond power. The few spectators watching cheered as I got the bike moving again into the slight headwind which was all that remained of the breeze that had pushed me to turn one.
Damn, my computer’s missing, must’ve jumped off when I hit the deck. Well nothing for it, I’ll just have to go eyeballs out for as long as I can and hope it’s enough. Once I was moving again I quickly transferred to the tri-bars and got into my full tuck position.
Something wasn’t right though, my right knee started to ache, must’ve taken more of a knock than I thought. Not only that but the light breeze was starting to pick up again, bum, bum, bum! “Concentrate, Drew,” I told myself over and over, with no idea how far it was to the finish I just pushed as hard as I could.
It seemed like forever before the motorway bridge came into view, yay, not far now. For the first time I thought I could see the Martin kid, well his following entourage at least, maybe I’m up on him? Without a clock I couldn’t judge very well but I thought that maybe I had a few seconds on him.
My right shoulder and hip began to ache, was that sweat or blood I could feel trickling between my breasts? Come on, it’s not far now. The road started to climb, down a sprocket, keep it rolling, sugar the wind’s stiff across here. A quick glance ahead revealed one of those inflatable arch things marking the one K to go point, yes, nearly there.
Over the top of the bridge I quickly went back up a sprocket, then two as the road dropped towards the finish. There were more people lining the road now, my mind was set on my destination though so I barely heard the encouragement they shouted. Under the arch, one to go, more Drew, I was already on the rivet, my side hurt, my knee hurt, something was dripping and I wanted more.
The red haze started ¬– five hundred to go, dig in, come on! I could barely focus on the road let alone the clock above the finish line, was I up, down, no idea. I caught a glimpse of a rider on the big screen placed roadside for the spectators, not sure who it is. Two hundred, don’t ease off…
My next conscious moment was heralded by whistles and shouting before someone clamped something over my face.
“Hmmph!”
“Relax, kiddo, it’s just oxygen,” the familiar tones of Caroline advised.
“Wha?” I managed through the mask.
“Shush!”
I was conscious of moving but none of my limbs seemed to be propelling me, what does that mean. The cacophony suddenly died and the atmosphere felt altogether less cloying, voices issued instructions and I was suddenly still.
“Can you hear me, Drew?”
“Hmm,” I allowed.
“Good, your dad’ll be here soon, just relax for now.” Caro soothed.
My breathing was considerably calmer now, I nodded in understanding.
I’ve no idea how long I lay there with Caro stroking my hair before Dad arrived.
“She alright? What happened?”
“Crash out on the course then collapsed at the finish.”
“Dad?”
“Heya, kiddo.”
“Win?”
“No idea, Caro?”
“I came straight in here, I’ll go find out now you’re here, Dave.”
“Hundred and ten percent, eh?”
“One twenty,” I offered through the mask.
“What’re we gonna do with you, eh?”
I winced when I moved my arm.
“Arm?” Dad enquired.
“Uh huh.”
“I’ll get someone to check you out, Caro said you’d crashed.”
The medics returned to treat my road rash, I’m gonna have some ‘nice’ bruises again. My attention was held as I was variously, scrubbed, prodded and eventually wrapped, I reckon I look more like Frankenstein than a bike rider. Not having any idea of time I was surprised when I spotted Mum arrive with Caro.
“Mum!”
“That’s me, you must be the only person who could crash in a time trial!”
“It wasn’t planned.”
“I should hope not, so how you feeling?”
“Pretty sore, I think I bashed my knee, it *really hurt after the crash.”
“We’ll pop you to the hospital after the presentation, Drew,” Caro stated.
“’Kay, presentation? As in gong ceremony?”
“Never know, you might be needed, the Americans have put in a complaint so everything’s on hold for an hour unlike the drug control, you been yet Jen?”
“No, I came straight here, best get that out of the way, can you walk kiddo?”
“Er dunno, think so.”
Well in theory I could but in practice it was too painful to do much more than stand so I ended up being wheeled in a chair to the Kontroll. So of course then I couldn’t wee, well I could but not enough for the sample, which meant I then had to drink a litre of water and hope. Sitting in a cubicle with a sample bottle is not my idea of fun at any time and being swathed in bandages didn’t improve my demeanour.
Apparently the American’s complaint was to do with some technical point with the French team’s bikes, no idea what but resolving things took some time and resulted the French bikes being ruled illegal which led to counter complaints, appeals and so on. It was after five when the whole mess was cleared up, by which time my shredded skinsuit had been replaced by my cargo shorts and a BC trackie top.
Whilst Manda and Sal had both put up creditable performances neither made the top ten. Roni did better, she got the bronze, which is way cool, some Mears girl from Australia took second but the Dutch Vos girl outclassed both of them. It seemed to be a popular result, if the cheering was anything to go by.
The judges still hadn’t announced the final result, my 54.11 for the 38 kilometres – Caroline eventually confirmed, was I thought pretty good. With the American complaint the leader board had been taken down and not reissued so no one knows the winner. I do know that Gethin’s fifty-six placed him top twenty but where am I?
“In third position,” the announcer told the crowd, “junior individual time trial, representing the United States of America, with a time of fifty-five minutes and one second, Jonathon Bauer.”
The announcement was translated into French by which time Mr Bauer, a lanky red head had ascended to the stage and was being presented with his gong. Hey, that means I get at least silver!
“In second place, representing…”
Come on, who is it?
An official grabbed the announcers arm and whispered something in his ear, “Sorry, my mistake everyone, in joint first place…”
I missed the rest of the announcement as all around me my team mates and BC staff whooped in delight before I was prodded towards the stage. My memories of the next ten minutes are rather vague, getting the rainbow jersey pulled over my head, then having the medal placed around my neck – I’ll have to watch the video!
I stood alongside Tony Martin, the German with whom I’d drawn and literally cried through Deutschland Über Alles then God Save The Queen. Of course then it was photos and the press conference, which was what caused me to miss the women’s presentation and Mum’s silver medal.
“Drew, Phil Eaton, Cycling Weekly. We heard you had an incident out on the course, we all saw the bandages, can you tell us something about that?”
“Er hi, Phil, well there’s not a lot to tell, I was going pretty well, there was a tail wind out to turn one and I was tanking it. Well anyway I lined myself up for the corner and the next thing I know I’m sliding across the road.”
“Any idea what caused it?”
“No idea but it was a bit of a shock!”
“It obviously cost you time, do you know how much?”
“We timed it at twenty five seconds,” Steve called from the wings.
This revelation seemed to surprise not just the hacks sat out in front but the German sat beside me.
“Shitza!”
“So you would’ve been the outright winner without the crash,” Mr Eaton, Cycling Weekly, suggested.
“Possibly,” I allowed.
That’s a good question, did I try harder afterwards to compensate or would I have done it anyway – I guess we’ll never know.
“So how come they declared a draw, not that I’m complaining,” I asked Caro while we waited for my x-rays to come back.
“They changed the rules a few years ago to prevent it, they go to thousandths of a second now.”
“So we got the same time to three decimal points?”
“Yup,” she agreed.
“Wow,” I allowed.
“Bond?” a chap in a white coat queried halting that particular conversation.
“’S’me.”
“Gud, well as we thought, nothing broken as such,”
“Phew!”
“But,” he went on, “you do have a hairline fracture of your scapula.”
“Will I need a pot?” I enquired in mild panic.
“Pot? What is ‘pot’?”
“Plaster cast.” Cat advised him.
“Ah pot, plaster, um no fraulein, no ‘pot’ is required, a few days rest should be all.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, that’s a relief, hold on; did he say few days rest?
“Thank you, doctor,” Caro offered, “come on, Drew let’s get back to the hotel.”
He did say few days, “Er yeah, thanks, Doc.”
“No problem, young lady, take care.”
Steve was waiting for us outside with one of the BC cars.
“Everything okay, no pots?”
“Hairline fracture,” Caro stated.
“Shoulder blade,” I supplied.
“Looks like we’ve got a problem for Sunday,” Caro told her colleague, “treatment is a few days rest.”
Noooooooooooooo!
Maddy Bell © 25.05.2014