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Only Five Minutes by Maddy Bell
Copyright© 2019 Madeline Bell Well it wouldn't be Gaby if it was that simple would it?
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Freezy Friday
"Morning kiddo,” Dad cheerily greeted when I made my way downstairs.
"Mornin',” I allowed around the latest yawn.
"So what're you doing today?”
"Not sure,” I replied checking the coffee pot, "You want?”
"I'm fine thanks, I'm going down to Apollinaris if you're interested.”
He probably had something in mind for me to do.
"What's the catch?”
"Why would there be a catch?”
"Dad, I'm not ten any more.”
"And don't we just know it.”
"Hey, no fair!”
"If you must know, the new frames arrived yesterday, we've got less than a week to get the seniors bikes all prepped and an extra pair of hands would be useful.”
"I didn't know there were new bikes coming.”
Look, I'm a bike whore, I might not do the mechanics but I can appreciate good kit and i've been known to lust over a new bike for hours.
Dad shrugged, "We signed a good deal with Pinarello last year and they like having World Champions on their frames.”
"You want me all day?”
"I'll take that as you're coming then, probably most of the day.”
Its not like i've got anything else to do, well reading but I can do that anytime.
"Okay, count me in.”
"Get your fruhstück and we'll get off then.”
Fifteen minutes later I was fed and dressed and waiting for Pater, now there's a first.
"Ready?”
"As I'll ever be.”
"You might want a bit more than that on, the workshop isn't the warmest place.”
I considered what I was wearing, winter tights, a stretchy black skirt I use for 'waitressing' jobs, stripey long sleeved top and a cardigan – oh and my ski jacket. H'mm, maybe a fleece would be better than the cardy.
"I'll go get a fleece.”
"Try not to be too long.”
"Only five minutes, tops.”
"I'll be in the car.”
Which means it will be nice and toasty when I get in, the Saab really does have a good heater. I shucked my rucky and jacket then did the stairway dash up to my private domain. Okay, I know, half a job Bond's been at it again, yep I did all that laundry last night but it still wants putting away and, well my warmest fleece is in the pile.
It took me a couple of minutes to spot a sleeve in the mountain of stuff and another to extricate it without turning the whole lot into a textile avalanche onto the floor. I guess I need to sort it all out when we get back, before Mum sees it. Cardigan off, fleece on, change my scrunchie to match then I decided trainers would be more practical than ankle boots – cue a search for the inevitable missing shoe.
"I thought you were just getting a fleece?, not redressing,” Dad mentioned when I joined him in the car.
"That's all I have changed, well and my trainers,” I told him as I pulled the seatbelt into place.
He rolled his eyes, "I don't want to know.”
The car was already ticking over so he put it in gear and we pulled out of the drive. And yes, it was nice and cosy, the heater in full meltdown mode and the heated seat warming my bum.
Its not far down to Apollinaris' depot, about seven kilometres and strictly speaking its in Heppingen rather than Bad Neunahr. The good news with that is we can use the bypass which at eight thirty in the morning means we miss most of the morning commute traffic, the only real hold up being the lights where you come off the two six six to join the old road. We pulled into the yard and around to the building allocated to the team a few minutes before nine.
We were not the first to arrive, George's big BMW was already parked alongside Mike the mechanics elderly Opel Manta. Dad pulled in next to the Bee Em and shut her down.
"Can you take your Mother's kit bag in kiddo, I'll be there in a mo.”
Friday, the senior squad have a gym session after lunch which Mum likes to jog down to – weather permitting. I reckon she gets the train down to Neunahr bahnhof and walks from there meself. I grabbed the holdall from the back seat and headed inside leaving Dad to get whatever from the boot space.
"Hello?” I called once I got through the heavy side door – the wind kept blowing it shut on me.
I could hear voices from the general direction of the workshop so I headed that direction, Dad was right, especially after the Saab's heat it felt like a refridgerator in here. I think i've told you about the team facility before, its essentially one of those industrial shed things with a few internal walls to give some office space. I walked down the corridor, past the gym, treatment room, meeting room and George's office before reaching the door into the workshop and bike store.
"Hiya,” I greeted those present.
"Thought we heard someone, wasn't sure with the heater going,” Mike advised, "Long time no see Gaby, take it your Väter is with you?”
"Somewhere behind.”
"You here to work?” George, blunt as ever, asked.
I gave a shrug, "Thats the idea.”
Any further interrogation was deferred as Dad joined us carrying a couple of big boxes.
"Morning.”
"Dave.”
"You brought some help,” George noted.
"All hands as they say,” Dad replied placing the boxes alongside several others with enticing logos on them, Continental, Campagnolo and Selle Italia.
"Now you're here, a quick word before you get started please Dave,” George suggested heading for the door.
"Sure, be right back.”
"So Champ, how's life treating you?” Mike asked.
"Okay I guess.”
"Your dad says you're off college for a couple of weeks.”
"Yeah, everyone else is doing work placements so my tutor decided that me commuting to read in the library was a bit daft.”
"You aren't doing a placement?”
"Not this time, apparently the kiosk covers the requirement, so what're we supposed to be doing?”
"Well between now and next Wednesday we've got to turn all these,” he swept an arm towards the pile of boxes, "Into full bikes for the Spanish trip.”
"So what am I doing, unwrapping?”
"Later maybe, first job is checking we've got everything, then I think we'll have you pick the parts while me and your dad start prepping the frames.”
"Sounds cool.”
"First job though, coffee.”
Guess who got the barista job?
"Me and your Dad checked the frames yesterday,” Mike advised indicating the stack of boxes each with a name on the end in black marker, Porsche, Boonen, Pinger, Bond and so on, "So we just have to check we have everything else.”
"What if there's stuff missing?”
"Some bits we might have in stock,” Dad advised but worst case, as times a bit short, we've still got last year's bikes to fall back on.”
"So where do we start?”
"You want to get straight onto the frames Mike, me and Gab should rattle through these.”
"Yeah, sounds like a plan.”
A few minutes later I was sat next to a mobile heater with the first box from Campagnolo, a delivery note and my ski band snugged over my ears.
"Its probably easiest to get everything out and check it back into the box for now,” Dad suggested.
"Yeah okay,” well he's the boss.
You've heard the expression 'like kids in a sweet shop', well that was me. If you go to a shop to buy stuff it usually comes with all the fancy packaging so I was a bit non plussed that most of the stuff in the box was just in polythene bags. On the plus side that means that you can easily see what stuff is, who needs extra boxes?
So on Dad's suggestion I unpacked all the bags into a mini mountain of plastic, I can admire everything as I check it off. And so it began, rear derraileur type a, check the list, one, chainset, compact, one seventy, check.....Of course each component was admired which didn't exactly speed matters but from a riders point of view, its not often you get the chance to handle individual parts, assess their weight, really check out their form.
Of course, whilst i'd been doing one box, Dad had counted the saddles, tyres, a second box of Campag with chains and cassettes in and a fourth with stuff like stems and seatposts.
"Dad?”
"What kiddo? There's bag under your chair.”
"What? Oh right,” I fished the bag out, another Super Record rear mech, "So what happens with the old bikes, do they get sold?”
"Some teams do that but to be honest, a lot of the parts are pretty knackered at the end of the year. The deal we've got with Pinarello is a sort of sale or return thing, we get an allowance for each frame we send back, I think they refurb them and sell them on. The other stuff we mostly use for spares, we've got a lot of bikes to keep running.”
"Oh.”
"You sound disapointed?”
"Well I was thinking that maybe I could upgrade my bike this year.”
Dad chortled, "Did you hear that Mike, she wants to upgrade this year's bike.”
"Take it you've not told her then,” Mike called back.
"Told me what?”
"It was going to be a surprise for your birthday.”
"Da-ad.”
"Okay, okay. Pinarello are supplying a custom Dogma for you and Vicenza are stumping up a Super Record gruppo, I don't think there's anything to upgrade kiddo.”
"Serious?”
"Straight up, they want to be seen to be used by the best, its good for sales.”
"Is it here yet, can I see it?”
"Whoa, hold your horses, the bikes for Spain come first.”
I sighed, priorities can be so frustrating!
"Lunch when I finish this one?” Mike suggested.
Lunch, I checked my watch, twelve thirty, where did all the time go? So okay, we stopped for coffee mid morning, George summoned Dad again not long afterwards but even so, its not like we haven't been hard at it. For the last half hour or so Dad's been showing me the picking list set up – whilst the bikes may look the same, each one is of course customised for each rider, different, bars, saddles, gearing, crank length even, so to save time we'll pick all the non standard stuff this afternoon so Mike can build more quickly without searching for Tina's bars or Mum's saddle as he goes.
"Lunch?”
"You not hungry?” Dad queried with a raised brow.
"Now you come to mention it.”
"How long Mike?”
"Five, just need to seat this race.”
"You want to wash up then kiddo, we'll go up to Simon's”
We took the Saab up into Heppingen, I had to relinquish my usual seat to Mike, well its only good manners right? Simon's it turns out, is the village bakery cum cafe so the menu isn't fancy but does run to a 'dish of the day', soup and the usual standbys of Frikadel, Schnitzel and Würst. Whilst not crowded out, it was certainly busy, the cadre of tradesmen however were mostly take outs so we were able to claim a table without much fuss.
"Hi guys,” the waitress greeted before we'd even got bums on seats, "Usual?”
"Hi Beth,” Mike returned, "Coffee all round, busy today?”
"Yeah, the new housing near the station.”
"What's the Menu?” Dad asked.
"Nudelsuppe and mixed grill.”
"Sounds good to me,” Mike offered.
"Gaby?” Dad queried.
Given that my usual lunch is fruit and a sandwich, "Works for me.”
"Three then,” Dad told 'Beth' who quickly hustled off.
"You guys eat here a lot?”
"Couple of times a week when we're around,” Dad advised.
"Makes up for all the burgers on the autobahn eh Dave,” Mike added.
"Do not tell your mother, she thinks I have a sandwich from the canteen.”
"What's it worth?”
"A look at your new frame when we get back?” Dad suggested.
"Okay, deal!” I grinned.
When we got back there were several additional cars parked around the building, of course its the seniors come for their training session. Inside the building, voices were chattering away, the most easily identified being Petra and Kat shouting out instructions. Urgh, that does not sound like fun.
The three of us trekked through the building to the workshop, which was at least warm enough now for me to lose the ski jacket for a bit.
"Where'd you put it Mike?”
"Far corner, its marked WM.”
"Come on then kiddo,” Dad instructed, "Then we need to get on with the picking okay?”
"Yes Dad,” I agreed, following him to another pile of boxes lurking below hooks laden with wheels.
Dad sorted through the boxes, sod's law says it was the last one he checked, he pulled it out then opened the box. I couldn't really see what he was doing but he turned around holding a thick poly bag from which he withdrew a work of art. Lets face it, the Dogma looks great anyhow but this one is mine and instead of the Apollinaris sky blue / cream everyone else will be riding mine is – WOW!
"You like?” Dad queried.
"Not many! Can I?”
"Just be careful with it.”
I said work of art but that hardly describes it. The front end is white then it fades through the Weltmeisterin bands and back to white at the back and whilst they are good solid colours, there's a gold flake in the lacquer so from some angles the frame actually looks gold. Then there's the graphics, Pinarello of course on the down tube, on the seat tube it simply says 'Roskilde 2005' above 'Ontario 2006' with one of those UCI roundels below the former and two below the latter– restrained and very stylish.
"So?”
"Beautiful.”
"They were going to do it over pink,” Dad started, "But we vetoed that.”
"Pink? Are they nuts?”
"They've still got some stereotypes down there,” Pater mentioned, "So, seen enough?”
"I guess.”
With two of us doing the picking we soon had all seven sets of stuff picked ready for Mike to build from. The rest of the gear we laid out on the bench next to where Mike would be working so he can just pick them up as needed. For his part, Mike had already completed the frame prep and was doing the waste disposal bit.
"You done Mike?”
"Yeah, enough for one day, you in tomorrow Dave?”
"I expect so.”
"See you soon Gab, thanks for the help.”
"No worries, tschuss.”
"Tschuss.”
Mum was waiting for us outside the meeting room.
"Good day?”
"Well you should have something to ride next week,” Dad advised.
"Thats a relief,” she grinned back, "So you all set for our trip tomorrow kiddo?”
"Shitza! Kris!”
© Maddy Bell 03.08.2019
