*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