Gaby Book 17 - Seasons

 
“So what’s with the braids, Gab?” Tali enquired once we were settled at the table.
“This pair,” I motioned to my hairdressers, “were bored on the way up.”
“Makes you look like some Bavarian princess,” Gret sniggered.
“Deep joy.”
“Don’t take any notice, you look cute,” Tali mentioned.
“Help me, Josh.”
“Ahm, staying oot of it man.”
“Thanks,” I mumped.
“You back for good?” I asked the Tynesider.
“For the Spring session at least, I thought this was in like June last year?”
“They had to move it, “Tali advised,” there’s a big sailing thing in the summer at Kiel.”
“How’d you know?” Ron queried.
“Dad’s on the regional legislature.”
“Never knew that,” I allowed.
“It’s not a secret.”
“We going for a repeat of last year?” Gret asked.
“The race I guess, not of everything else though,” I replied.
“Oh sorry, Gab, I forgot about all that,” Gret told me.
“’S alright, it’s all under the bridge now.”
“What is?” Mand asked.
Bum.
“Er Gab had some er, health issues after last year,” Ron supplied.
“’Kay,” she allowed.
“Later,” I offered.
“Here comes the food,” Josh enthused, which thankfully changed the subject.

“So,” Dad concluded, “the weather looks like a repeat of last year, dry to start, rain later. Everyone okay with the plan?”
After devouring plates of pasta and strudel to follow we’d reconvened in the lounge for the team talk.
“What if things don’t work out?” Josh queried.
“Ron’s road captain, she’ll be calling the shots.”
“Fine.”
“Eight o’clock here in reception, we’ll be back for showers and dinner after so you can leave your bags in your rooms. Try to get a good night’s sleep, eh?”
Yeah, that's gonna happen, Dad!

In the end the Apollinaris gossip club broke up about ten thirty and we split off to our rooms.

“Am I going to find out about last year?” Mand enquired as she started to undo the nest of braids on my head.
“Ow! Do you have to pull it?”
“Soz, so?” she pressed.
“Okay,” I allowed, “so after the race...”

“So BC knew about your er issues before the training camp?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “it wasn’t exactly a surprise for them when I, that is Gaby, turned up in a dress at Bern.”
“Not them maybe, the rest of us were though.”
“Me too!”
“So you reckon tomorrow will go to plan?”
I shrugged as I reached for more gummi bears, “it’s a Jungere League race, anything could happen.”
“I s’pose.”

Unlike last year when we already had the titles sewn up just about here, this year it’s the first race of the series. The good thing about this is that the introductions were much shorter although I was still introduced as last year’s series winner. It was warm enough for shorts but only the hardy had bare arms at the start line.

“Okay," Dad started, “everyone ready?” we all agreed with nods and grunts, “Have a good ride and take care.”

He collected our trackies before leaving us to our final pre race prep, fiddling with shoes, adjusting glasses, helmets, making sure gears are set. The MC had been running a constant stream of who knows what but a commissaire’s whistle got our attention. The rider briefing was thankfully um, brief – it’s not like we haven’t heard it all before is it?

The PA system broke into life again and after a short speech from the local politico who’d fallen for starting the race, the gun sounded and we were waved away. We got away fairly cleanly – a chorus of snaps and clicks as a hundred shoes engaged with a hundred pedals to take us on our way. As usual there was a neutral zone, not the biggest today, the green flag waved from the lead car after just a kilometre but thankfully there were no start gate heroes this morning.

If you remember from last year we start out heading for Lubeck through the lightly rolling Holstein countryside, maybe everyone had seen the same forecast so although we rolled along at a reasonable thirty kph, no one seemed keen to make the first move. The wind was strong enough to make the windward side of the peloton less comfortable, never a good sign, and the bunch as a result was constantly moving. Of course it did give me a chance to check out the opposition, some new faces of course, plenty of familiar ones and some not here as they’ve moved up to the senior ranks.

Plan A for us is simple, stay in contention until the finish – well that's simplistic of course, it does involve some effort on the team’s part and the first part of the puzzle is due to start soon. The patches of blue above us became smaller as wave after wave of grey cloud scudding across the heavens.

“Gab!” Ron hissed, “Time.”

Already? I looked about, sure enough we were dropping into Lubeck, I recognised the spires and towers amongst the jumble of buildings ahead of us.

“’Kay,” I agreed taking a slug from my bidon.

I moved forward amongst the almost intact horde in preparation.

There wasn’t long to wait, we swung through a roundabout and there in front was the Holsten Tor currently swathed in scaffolding. I scanned the bunch for the others, briefly catching the eye of Paul Innerthausen. He obviously saw something in my face, when Tali and Mand attacked up the hill he never batted an eye.

Unlike the majority of the race. Yeah, as predicted, almost as one they were out of the saddle in pursuit of the two blue clad girlies. I did no more than hold station but behind me even this short acceleration was peeling bodies from the peloton.

Of course, my teamies weren’t making a serious attempt to get away, it’s far too early to be successful, no it was all about shaking out some of the chaff. By the time we exited the old town through the Burgtor the girls were back in the bunch, mission accomplished.

The long straight approach to the Traveműnder tunnel, the scene of my initial escape last year stretched ahead, maybe it was memories of last year or just the wide road but it proved too tempting for several riders.

The same thing had happened last year and just like then we covered the move, this time with Ron and Gret. It hurt to watch the twenty or so riders make ground on the peloton but Dad had been adamant, cover but don’t pursue. Worst case scenario, we’d hopefully have two riders up front, if things go as expected, as planned, we’ll all be there for the kill.

“Frustrating, man,” Josh noted.
“No kidding, we’re not the only ones waiting mind,” I nodded towards Paul.
“Aye, could be useful like.”
“Lost a few through Lubeck.”
“Not enough, could do with a bit more pace.”

A quick glance around confirmed his appraisal, I reckon we were only about a dozen light, if we don’t speed up there's a chance some of them will get back on.

“Out of the tunnel?”
“I'll warn t’girls.”
Dad said not to chase, nothing about upping the pace.

The break didn’t have a huge gap, maybe twenty seconds as we went through the toll booths – just enough for them to be lost from sight as the road dipped into the tunnel. Although it’s well lit, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, even so I couldn’t make much sense of the flashing lights and shapes ahead of us. Everyone seemed content to keep the status quo as we passed under the Trave.

Josh moved up to the front, I followed discretely, a couple of bikes between us so as not to cause too much excitement. As we returned to daylight and the road started to climb, Josh turned up the juice just enough to maintain rather than increase our speed. We turned out onto the feeder road, as the grade decreased so our speed started to increase.

I guess a few of our companions thought we were going for it so when we rejoined the Traveműnde old road they started a rotation. Whilst we weren’t actually trying to chase the leaders some assistance in the pace setting was appreciated, we’ll need our energy later on for sure. The gap had reduced a little by the time we reached Traveműnde but our arrival coincided with the wet – not heavy but wet nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for the road to be wet over, damn could’ve done without this. We ploughed on and after negotiating the sea front and town hit the climb away from the coast. It’s neither long nor particularly steep but with Josh driving things it proved more significant than you’d guess.

A quick glance under my arm as we reached the top revealed a bunch blown to bits, riders strung out behind in desperate attempts to hang on. The break in turn was only about two hundred ahead of us, question is, do we press on or ease back. It was quite breezy this close to the coast and that made the decision for us, safety in numbers a better scheme than forcing the split.

“Josh!”
He turned at my call and I slashed across my neck, nodding in understanding he backed off. The rain, now it had soaked us, ceased as quickly as it arrived, maybe we’ll dry off a bit if we’re lucky. I checked for the girls as a second peloton coalesced from the strung out field, Tali was firmly ensconced, Mand less comfortably at the tail end.

The next kilometres, tracking the coast, were hard, the wind slowing us despite the stronger riders initiating a rotation. I must admit that I missed a few turns, the other girls likewise showing enough willing to not be complained at but preserving resources. Other girls, that still stings but there’s no denying that I am one of their number even if my head still thinks otherwise.

“You alright?” I asked Mand after dropping back.
“Just about, this is brutal.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s far to the feed station now.”
“Good.”
“Wind should get behind us after Kiel.”
“If I get that far,” she panted.
“You will,” I encouraged, “just sit in for a bit.”

The break had regained some ground along the coast, I guess they’ve got less dead wood on board but I was still surprised when the board Sonja Luchow held out before the feed indicated a minute thirty. I really wanted to be up there but that wasn’t the plan and for once we were going to stick to the plan. Our group was still pretty big, about fifty riders but that meant we’d lost quite a few in the last twenty or so kilometres.

Tali collected our musettes as we passed through Eutin and the whole peloton temporarily called a truce for lunch. Yeah, lunch, we’ve been riding for over two hours, well nearly three, it’ll be after twelve when we get to Kiel. The wind was less strong here inland but it was almost in our faces as we headed across to Plőn which kept our speed low.

The first sign of anything amiss ahead came on the undulating road after the town, first one then another of the break came back to us in quick succession and were shot out of the back. Neither were in Apollinaris strip but it was the first sign of a chink in our plan A. it seemed to encourage our group, the pace started to pick up a bit, a rested Josh taking several long turns across the Holstein countryside.

Another shower wet us as we approached the outskirts of Kiel, the sprint on the waterfront of no consequence to us no one seemed keen to make a solo move – yet. The wind buffeted us around the waterfront then we swung up into the city centre to start the long run for home. I checked my teammates, Josh looked fine, Mand was doing okay but the next bit of Plan A will probably do for her, Tali, well she looks comfortable for now.

Josh glanced over, I gave a quick nod, the game is on.

Maddy Bell © 20.10.16