There's a weird thing when you're deeply involved in sport, especially if you actual compete, you don't really get a lot of spectator time. Lets face it, if you are taking things seriously your life pretty much revolves around competing, training and looking after kit – with cycling more so than say running or kick ball. Oh sure you might catch a bit of the Tour on telly but even at multi race meets you don't get to see the other events as you're concentrating on warming up, warming down, changing and so on.

I have to say that I'm not a great spectator, oh I'll cheer my team mates and friends but it can be a bit boring. Yep, I said it, cycling can be boring. But I suppose anything that lasts more than a minute can have that thrown at it right?

"Come on kiddo, you can help with the feed.”
"Joy.”
"You didn't have to come,” he pointed out.

That was true enough, but with the rest of the household coming and a chance to catch up with Roni, well I suppose I can cope with sorting out a few bottles.

“Looks like they're on their way,” Dad suggested.
"Where?”
"The lead car's just come past those trees,” he pointed across the fields.
I spotted the distant riders in a gap between the greenery, “looks like Josh on the front.”
"Bit early to be expending energy,” Dad noted.

By now the other helpers in the feed zone were moving roadside, not to hand up food but to cheer their riders through. We slid down the bank and joined them, it was another couple of minutes before the flashing lights of the lead car hove into view and a short distance behind the race leaders were visible. And then they were on us, Josh and Innerthausen dictating the pace from the front, a phalanx of familiar jerseys in their wake.

"Steady Waugh,”Dad called out as he clapped.
I looked out for the girls, "Go 'Pollinaris! Allez English!”

The whole race was pretty much together, well they have only done about twenty K's, just a few riders were adrift but not by much. The rest of the race convoy followed through, commisaires, neutral service and the half dozen team cars. Mike tooted from the wheel of the BC bus, along with Caro and Daz he's servicing both our squads – well no point having two cars and no feed right?

"How long for Mums race?”
“Maybe twenty five minutes.”
"I shoulda brought a book,” I sighed.
Dad snorted, "You, read?”
"I am capable you know.”
"I know, I just thought you were more into painting nails and dark music, there might be a Bryson in the glove box.”
"BlauHase are not dark,” I huffed, "Bit Deutsche rock maybe.”
"If you say so.”
"I'm gonna catch some rays.”
"You got sun screen?”
"I'm not a little kid,” I told him.
“And you're not an adult yet either young lady,” he stated with a bit of edge to his voice.
"Er do you want a drink fetching?”

I could actually see the senior race much better from my vantage point up on the bank.

“Looks like one of ours is away,” I called down to Dad.
"Can you see who?”
“Ut uh, they've gone behind the trees.”

The women weren't riding a much different pace to the juniors so it was almost exactly the thirty minutes they started behind that the second belighted car approached our spot.

“Looks like Tina!”

The lone rider heading towards us was the smallest girl on the squad, I think she and I are both the same one five eight centimetres but she makes me look fat!

"Dig, dig!”
"Go Teen!”

She swept through, a determined look on her face as she span her gears easily over the smooth tarmac. Dad was on auto pilot, his stopwatch was out and running. It seemed like ages before the main bunch came into sight, a lump of cream leading the way with Mum's Weltmeisterin stripes sat comfortably ahead of the motley jerseys of the other teams.

"Go on Roni!”
"Twenty seconds!”
"Allez Bond!”

Because of the hope that the ladies would race faster than the juniors it was actually only ten minutes later that the latter returned for a second time. The feed is next time around but with it being a warm day a lot of helpers were waiting with fresh bidons. Its always a danger area and the addition of errant water bottles doesn't decrease that.

As we were looking after ten riders it was a hectic couple of minutes, first handing bidons out then collecting the dropped empties.

"I'll fill these,” I volunteered.
“Okay,” Dad agreed, "You might want more sun screen.”

I glanced at my shoulders, perhaps they are getting a bit pink – oh mein gott, tan lines! Now in the macho world of bike racing tan lines are hard fought for things, the pasty torso and well toasted limb look gets plenty of kudos. But I'm a girl, a girl going on a sort of beach holiday in two weeks, I so do not want tan lines, bike or bra.

I refilled the bottles from the tank in the back of the bus, then using the cover of the rear doors slipped the straps of my vest top and BH off to slather myself with more factor thirty. There were already faint outlines over my shoulders so I tucked the straps out of the way leaving my shoulders bare. By the time I'd done I almost missed Tina coming through again, no longer alone but with one of the Boels girls sharing the workload.

"Go Porsche!” I yelled.
"Thirty five!” Dad added having timed their approach across the fields.

In return, Teen waggled her fingers in acknowledgement.

The bunch was less Apollinaris dominated this time, more fragmented even if it looked like all of ours were still there.

“Right,” Dad started, heading for the bus, “musettes.”

The bags were of course already packed, not a ton of stuff today, a fresh bidon, a couple of sandwiches, energy bars and of course banana. Even so, an armful of bags weighs a fair bit. With so many riders to cover once back at the zone I crossed the road, we'd already agreed that Dad would do BC and I'd do 'Pollinaris so I only actually had four bags.

Over the last twenty kilometres there had been some action in the peloton, it was a small group that came at us, German Paul, Gethin and Cav followed a few seconds later by Josh and another lad I didn't recognise. I held out a bag, Josh adjusted his line to intercept it, snatching it easily from my grip without dropping any momentum. Three left, I spotted the chasers and there were my girls.

Gret detached herself from the sea of bodies, shouting “all!” as she approached.

I barely had time to transfer all the straps to one hand before she grabbed them, a bit less elegant than Josh but securely nonetheless. Perhaps the worst scenario is to grab your musette and drop it, no food and a good chance of causing a pile up. Dad is pretty keen on us practising the skill but you can't account for less skilful members of the race.

Across the road Dad still had a bag to deliver even as the tail of the bunch cleared the pick up zone. I saw Mike pause briefly by Dad then the bus was off again. The race caravan was past before a lone figure came up the road which revealed itself as Jamie.

"Go Jame!” I shouted over.
"Hang in lad!” Dad told him as he took his grub.

And then the road was clear.

"What happened to Jamie?” I asked crossing back to Dad.
"Puncture.”
"Bummer, the others coulda done with him about now.”
"It happens,” Dad noted, "I'll go fetch the empties, haven't you got a hat?”
"In the bus.”
"Well put it on, I don't want you getting heatstroke, there's some cola in the cooler, should be some sandwiches too.”

Now food and drink I can do!

The seniors seemed much closer this time, Dad wasn't back from the drop zone even when Tina and her companion were cheered through. I waited expectantly for the bunch but it was a lone rider, one wearing white who appeared first.

"Go on Mum!” I yelled.

I'm sure she smiled back as I bounced in excitement.

Okay, note to self, don't jump about without your bra being secure, not only did the girls attract some momentum they broke loose leaving my chest er, uncovered. Oops. Not sure if anyone noticed, I just about got things covered and under control by the time the bunch rushed past.

When the youth event got back to us they had just over a lap to go, the leaders were all together, five of them, three of which are ours. Bottles were handed up for the last time and then we waited for the bunch. And waited, and waited.

It was almost five minutes later that the peloton, a depleted one at that, arrived. Mand, Sal, Jamie, Tal, Laura – where are the others? This time when the caravan passed there were no more riders following.

"Where are the others?”
"Dunno,” Dad allowed.
"Hope they're alright.”
"Well lets get to the finish.”
"We not watching Mum through?”
"We'll see her at the finish area, your nose looks burnt.”
"Sugar!” yeah I always forget to get the sun screen on my schnoz.

Of course we weren't the only ones wanting to get to the finish zone, there was a bit of a traffic jam when someone stalled a car in their haste and back at the HQ area it was a case of dump the transport as close as possible. We jogged through and reached the barriers just as Mum, a tired Tina and the Boels woman went through together. There was no clothing malfunction this time as I cheered them through, that was so embarrassing!

“Looking good.”
"Yeah,” Dad agreed, “lets see if we can find out what's happened to Gret and Claire.”

That was easier said than done, with the finish now just minutes away anyone official was a bit tied up.

"You looking for your girls?” a chap I remember seeing at other races enquired.
"Er hi Michael,” Dad greeted the other, "Yeah, we've lost a couple.”
"There was a pile up at the far end of the circuit apparently, a couple have come back in down the course.”

Before the discussion could go further the PA spluttered into life and our attention was diverted to the finale.

'They'll be with us screech inutes, the lead group are st screech nd should be an exciting finale.'
"See you later Michael,” Dad shook the man's hand.
"Sure Dave, glück in the final!”
"Cheers.”

We made our way back to the barriers in time to see the lead car go through and then the chap on the PA started going barmy. Dad headed along to the pick up area whilst I strained over the barrier to see down the road. To be honest I didn't know who to cheer for, Josh? Cav? Paul even, instead I joined the communal barrier slapping as first Geth then the other lad sat up.

In the end it was no contest, Cav catapulted forward leaving Josh and Paul to fight for the lower steps. They'd had a big lead last time through, if anything it was bigger now but eventually the rest of the race arrived for a messy sprint which Mand took – yay the girls!

Maddy Bell ©22.07.17