*Chapter 20*

Bern Baby, Bern

 
 
The road started to buck around a bit, at Zäziwil it even had a bit of a climb, which was enough for the chasers to finally make contact with the break. There seemed to be a collective sigh from the peloton as the connection was made, twenty kilometres to go and it’s looking like it’ll be a mass gallop.

Clearly the prospect cheered our designated sprinter as he was now riding with a grin stuck to his face.

“So big gallop then?”

“Looks like it,” I agreed, “couple of nasty turns in the final approach.”

“Need plenty of pace, try and shake things down a bit.”

The others, now back in the bunch were taking a well-earned break from hostilities.

“Ah suppose youse want a lead out nooo, man?” Josh suggested when I slid in beside him.

“It’d be nice.” I grinned.

“The others are pretty tired like, me too to be honest.”

“Do what you can, every little helps.”

“Aye, it might well be little too.”
 
 

Instead of heading directly into Bern we turned at Worb taking in a couple of climbs en route to Rubigen where we joined the old southerly approach to the capital. Riders were starting to look a bit nervous and before we entered the city suburbs the peloton had further split – if you were in the back half you weren’t gonna be contesting the finish.

Daz took first spot in our train and the finale was on. Wide, straight boulevards allowed two competing trains to battle for position. Darren was replaced by Geth whose time trialling skills soon had us close to fifty kph with something like two thousand metres to go. The Swiss / Spanish line were matching us pedal stroke for pedal stroke, we gained a metre or two when we made the next turn but lost our advantage as Jamie took over.

The Scot was clearly bushed and Josh shouted him off after just a few metres. Fast right-hander and Josh had the two lines sat rider to rider. Another left-hander and I was surprised to see Michael Desgrange take a flier on the outside, sugar. Not sure where he found it but Josh reacted with some extra pace as we dropped towards Kirchenfeldbrucke.

It was too much for the Swiss train and when Josh swung off I found myself towing Cav up one kerb while Michael held us off in the other. There was perhaps only ten metres in it but with four hundred left to go it’s a long way out in sprinting terms. It’s a slight climb over the bridge into the city centre that meant an out of saddle effort to hold the big Belgian.

Back on solid ground I got us across to Desgrange’s wheel just in time to make the first of three ninety degree left turns on the run in. talk about a technical finish, there’s two turns in the last two hundred! I made the next corner alongside Michael then Mark shot out past both of us.

The result was never in doubt from there on, I could hear riders coming up behind us which spurred me to use the last of my energy to get to the line. Cav was already making a victory salute by the time I cleared the final corner, I gave my own salute as I crossed the line finally swamped by the best of the rest.
 
 

Seventh, after all that I got seventh. Well okay not just seventh, I cemented my overall position and so here I am waiting impatiently for my turn on the podium. The bad news was that we missed out on the team prize by a measly point, in the final accounting the Italians grabbed it by a single point.

Roni was a clear victor in the girl’s event, Toli was a deserved second and the surprise podium was our Mand – so okay she was minutes adrift but third is third. Josh held onto the spots, Mario and myself filling second and third and so to the big one.

“In third place for Team Switzerland, Mario Pellini!” being the home rider this clearly was going to get a good reaction from the crowd who rang their bells, cheered and clapped enthusiastically.

“Second place riding for Team Great Britain, Joshua Waugh!” the delight on the Tynesider’s face was infectious, he grinned constantly – even more so when he got his second set of cheek kissing from the podium ladies.

“Winner of the two thousand five Helvetia Cup, riding for Team Great Britain, Andrew Bond!” Geez, no one calls me that. I made my way up to the podium to raucous cheering and climbed up to the top step – Josh and Mario still taller than me of course. We exchanged handshakes; I got my final yellow jersey, kisses, flowers and a trophy nearly as big as me.
 
 

Half an hour later and we were checking into our last Swiss accommodation of the trip, the Etap Bern a short drive from the centre.

“We’ve a restaurant booked for seven so down here for six thirty please.” Mr Brailsford instructed.

“Gis that pot here, man, youse gonna go arse over.” Josh suggested.

“Thanks.” I allowed letting him stuff my silverware under his arm, he had his own as well, two in fact but mine was bigger!
 
 

When I came out of the shower, Josh was laid on his bed sending a text.

“Yer phone has been going potty like.” He noted.

“Okay.” I mentioned as I towel dried my hair.

“Could you like put some clothes on, man.”

“Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”

Yeah it probably would be an idea to wear more than a towel in front of my friend – not that I don’t trust him or anything but well – you know. I quickly donned my off bike uniform, shorts and a T in the tiny bathroom before handing custody of the facilities to Josh. What now, oh yeah, handy.

Wow, there must be like twenty texts! I flicked through;

‘Great ride – c u nxt wk’ that from Roni.

‘Wow girl, you were amazing!’ Sophia, how does she know?

‘Swiss Telecom welcomes you, call are charged…’ – lose that one!

‘I knew you were speziale, xxx’ hmm, Mario, I’ll have to ring him.

‘Well done kiddo, I’ll ring again later, Mum.’ Self-explanatory.

‘Way to go Drew, congrats from all of us, Chris H.’ Chris H? Who’s, no it can’t be, he hasn’t got my number has he?

There were more in a similar vein and I had only just started to send replies when Josh emerged from the shower looking very dapper.

“Bit dressed up aren’t we?”

“Make an effort like, Steve was saying it’s quite a fancy restaurant we’re going to.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me? I look a right scruff.”

“Dunno like, reckon you could get away with it as you are the uber hero.”

As if Josh, you podiumed and took the mountains so while I’m pretty stoked you achieved more really.

“What am I supposed to wear, my chinos are all creased and I don’t have a proper shirt with me.”

“Just put your yellow shirt on, no one’ll mind.”

“Except me.”

He shrugged, “Ahm gonna go find Mark, see youse in a bit yeah?”

“Yeah sure.” I agreed.
 
 

I hit the speed dial for Mand, “brrp, brrp… brrp, brrp… brrp, hello?”

“Heya, Mand.”

“Wassup?”

“You know this restaurant is posh tonight?”

“Not many, I can wear my black dress, Claire’s gone to borrow an iron.”

“Sugar.” I sighed.

“Problem?”

“You could call it that, nothing to wear.”

“Nothing?”

“Well I don’t think shorts and a t shirt will work.”

“I thought you’d got stuff?”

“My chinos are a right mess and anyway I’ve not got a decent shirt.”

“Iron?”

“Won’t lose the bolognese down the leg.”

“Ah.”

“I’d best talk to Dad, see what he says.”

“Let me know if I can help.”

“Will do.”

 
 
“Drew Bond, you really are the limit!” Dad exclaimed.

“I didn’t know, I mean we usually go eat in our trackies.”

“So you’ve nothing clean or smart with you?”

“I did have my chinos..”

“But they have sauce down the leg.” He checked the time, “No time to hit the shops, you’ve not got anything decent with you?”

“Not that I could wear tonight.”

“I’m gonna regret asking this I know, just what is it you have that you can’t wear?”

 
 
“Come on, kiddo, the restaurant is only just up here.”

“I feel a right narna.”

“You don’t look one; in fact you look great.”

“If you say so, Dad.”

I looked up at the blue sky, one day Drew you’ll think ahead.

© Maddy Bell 12.02.14