*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