Gaby Book 18 - Summery

If I'd thought it through I'd have realised that we were only riding one way this evening and that whilst designated as ‘easy’ it was still team training and as such would garner the full squad support. When it’s just me and Mand training is – well riding but when you’re in a line out with a couple of team vehicles behind is pretty cool. People wave, traffic is more respectful, my chest was puffed to be part of this procession.

We were down at Sinzig before it dawned on me we were heading the wrong direction.

“I thought we were going to Daun.”
“We are,” Tina who was riding alongside me confirmed.
Confused I asked the obvious follow up question, “So what are we doing here, it’s the other direction?”
“You didn’t think we’d go straight there did you?”
“Er,” it hadn’t occurred to me we wouldn’t be.
“So erm which way are we going?”
“Mar,” Tina yelled up the line, “Gab wants to know which way we’re going.”
“Maria Laach then the lanes,” the reply came back.

There’s some right climbs across there!

“I thought it was supposed to be an easy ride.”
“Steady not easy,” Tina observed.

Bum, you knew Mum and Dad.

Once we gained the B9, Maria as team captain, instigated a rotation of our pairings, essentially the front pair do a turn then both drop to the back to rejoin the back of the group. It’s pretty standard stuff for a non race group riding, everyone sees the front but it’s less frenetic than a full on rotation. Turns tend to be longer allowing conversation and with an even number of riders you stay with the same pairing until there’s a break.
It helps when you know the other riders of course, I've known Tina for yonks so there’s no holding back in the conversation. I got the low down on the last couple of race trips the girls have been on, stuff that we don’t hear from Mum.
“You’re kidding?”
“Straight up, Erika and Jen didn’t roll in until after midnight,” Tina chortled.
“I bet George was pleased.”
“He tore them a right strip at breakfast.”
“Change!” Maria called from behind.

Our first mix up of the group came after the Brohltal turn, I found myself paired with Anita when we sorted ourselves out again. The trees sheltered us from the sun as we tracked the tourist train up the valley. I spent the next couple of kilometres going on about last Sunday but then we turned onto the road up to Laacher See.

I suppose in the global run of things the hundred and fifty metres of altitude gain aren’t much but squeezed into just over two K, well it’s a fairly stiff climb. It’s a steady ride right? Within metres we were climbing in a group, no one pushing the pace even if there was already some selection going on.

Up through the trees I concentrated on keeping an even pace, when the gradient eased I snicked up a gear and kept the same pressure on the pedals. Conversation was far behind, Erika and Anja matching me stroke for pedal stroke as we bypassed Wassenach. Erika dropped away on the final haul to the top and back into the trees and then the road levelled off and I sat up.

Anja patted me on the back before retrieving a bidon from its holder.

“Where’s the rest?”
“Dropped in the bottom trees,” Anja supplied as we soft pedalled past the lakeside campsite.

Erika rejoined us soon after but we were best part of the way along to the Maria Laach monastery before the back markers rejoined us.

“I thought it was supposed to be steady,” Mand complained as she arrived with Maria.
“Someone got carried away,” Tina suggested.
“Well keep it down a bit,” Maria opined, “we’ve still got about sixty K to do.”

We took the next turn for the short climb then swooping descent to Bell, once more in pairs, I found myself with Mum.

“You don’t have to prove anything, kiddo.”
“I was just keeping it steady.”
“If you say so.”
“I can’t help it if I go up hill quickly.”
“Well try not to make your old Mum look too bad, eh?”

The road bucked and jigged towards Mayen but just when I thought I'd worked out our route Maria called a turn and we were descending a single lane road into a wooded valley. Clearly the seniors have been this way before as they fair sped down through the trees only braking at the last minute for the junction at the bottom. I on the other hand, lulled by their riding, grabbed too much rear and ended up doing a bit of a shimmy on the gravelly surface – sugar.

We made a right and started the gentle ascent of the river valley, first one side of the water then the other and back again. The ‘main’ road took off up the hillside but we continued on more lane alongside the river, the trees gradually closing down the valley.

“Climb coming,” Mum advised, “try not to burn everyone off.”
“I'll try,” I grinned back.

A left turn over the watercourse took us into wall to wall trees and within metres tilted more strongly upwards. Maria was on the front with Anita, the pair keeping a comfortable if not slow pace under the leafy canopy. About a kilometre in Maria went wide letting Anja go through, I sprang onto her wheel, soz Mum.

The two of us took over the pace, something just above a comfortable conversation, the sound of heavy breathing still close behind. A sign warned of ‘kehre ’ for the next kilometre ahead, oh goody. Trees blocked the view uphill so I could only guess at what lay ahead, Anja glanced over before turning the screws up as we hit the first turn.

It was left hand so we had the shallower outer side of the round, I easily matched her acceleration but the sound of gears crunching behind suggested others were less able to follow. The road jinked around a little before starting a straight ramp towards the second corner. I sat tight on Anja’s wheel, which blocked my forward view, only when she veered wide did I realise we were at the turn.

Although it was a fairly ‘flat’ corner you still don’t want to be hard on the curb with its much steeper surface. It wasn’t a classic hairpin but a two parter, the two turns separated by perhaps twenty metres. I know what Mum said but my competitive urges took over so I took the inside line through part two before upping my pace on the following straight.

Two hundred metres and another wide loop to the next ramp. It did cross my mind to ease back a bit, down in Italy and Switzerland last summer we had climbs like this going on for kilometres but clearly the Hohe Eifel is nowhere near as high. Even so I pegged it a little, the next and as it turns out last hairpin barely a hundred metres away.

I broke from the trees, the road dropping slightly towards a village and a junction direction at which I had no idea. I freewheeled down to the habitation taking a long drag on my bottle, my ragged breathing not improving much before I hauled on the stoppers and pulled up just before the junction. A flick through the screens of my bike comp was surprising, were almost fifty kilometres from our start at the Apollinaris yard and nearly two hours riding.

My rest was short lived, the others whizzed down towards me, instead of being out front I was now playing catch up, the team bus holding station a few metres behind. I suppose it serves me right, the others had the pedal to the metal and starting from a standstill I was quickly some two hundred metres in arrears. All in all it took me five kilometres to get back on and it was only a stiff little up that let me rejoin then, if they’d got over the top I might never have contacted.

It was only when we joined a main road at Baar that I recognised where we were, just a couple of kilometres from the ‘Ring. Sheesh, we coulda come straight up the Ahr to Adenau, much shorter and quicker. We didn’t hold the busy road for long, the sign proclaimed Nitz to be our destination and another narrow lane climbed across the Eifel countryside.

“What do you reckon?” Maria queried over her shoulder as we approached the few buildings that comprise Nitz.
“It’s been dry,” Anita opined.
“What are they on about?” Mand, my current riding partner queried.
“No idea,” I admitted.
“Just go for it,” Mum encouraged.
“Go for what?”
“The road to the next village,” Tina explained, “it’s a farm track otherwise it’s extra kilometres.”

I considered the bikes we were riding, whatever we call them they are essentially race bikes, narrow tyres, lightweight wheels – well you get the idea. Not off-road bikes by any stretch. There was a bit of arm waving with the support crew then we were on a tiny lane through a farm yard.

Anita was in her element, it might not be a tarmac road but neither is it a muddy, rutted mess, as we crossed the fields I could think of some actual roads with worse surfaces – remember Roubaix? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not smooth and we were getting quite a pounding, I tried to remember what Anita taught me last autumn, relax and ‘float’. After the order and organisation of the last couple of hours everyone was now much more relaxed.

The shade through a patch of woodland resulted in a few dodgy bits, the lack of contrast disguising the lumps and bumps. I thought I'd blown it when I impacted a hidden stone, if you’ve ever done it you’ll know what I mean. Bizarrely not much beyond the trees there was a yellow village sign and soon after another dodge between farm equipment had us returning to tarmac in down-town Kirsbach.

We soon joined a bigger road again where George was waiting with the bus and I think conscious of the time, the pace went up a notch. The road climbed up for a bit then we dropped to Kelberg, the sign proclaimed Adenau to be just sixteen kilometres away. Talk about a roundabout route.

“Last climb,” Maria informed us as we started the drag out of Kelberg the town onto Kelberg the, well berg.
“Good job, I'm done,” Mand offered.
“We’ll get you there,” Anja stated.

Going uphill on a bike is hard at the best of times, going uphill pushing someone, well I don’t recommend it. It coulda been worse, Mand was still pedalling so our assistance was mostly to get her up the incline a bit quicker. We each had a turn, so whilst progress was slower the effort was spread, when we turned off the B road just before the summit everyone was feeling the effects.

“Ten K,” Maria announced, “usual place.”
“Usual place?”
“Sprint for the sign then we eat at the Dorfbrunnen,” Tina advised taking a quick sip from her bidon.
“Where’s that?”
“Just wait at the roundabout after the sprint.”

No one made any effort to race off so I joined the liquid takers as we descended through the trees.

I checked around the others, Mum looks pretty fresh still, Mand’ll get there but not offer any competition. We might not have been going race speed but we’ve not been holding back and with best part of four hours in the bag, well I'll not manage a long one. Bide my time, yeah, a quick check of the distance confirmed about eight to go.

We kept a quick rotation down the valley, Mand took one turn before taking Tail-end Charlie, at thirty five plus the distance passes quite quickly. I spotted a motorway viaduct ahead, we must go underneath and could that be Daun on the hillside beyond? When I realised that the turn to the autobahn was via a roundabout I decided to use that as a springboard.

There’s only eight of us, seven if you take Mand out, I doubt Maria or Erika will give chase so five including yours truly. Like most German roundabouts it looked to be quite small, they can be awkward to negotiate at speed, especially in a group. I got myself onto the outside of the group and prepared myself for action.

“Clear!” Anja called out before leading the group onto the island.

There was a sort of run on zone around the centre, I guess to accommodate bigger vehicles, I hopped the low edge and sped more directly towards the exit, maintaining speed and reducing the distance. I pushed the right hand thumb lever down hard and stood on the pedals as I zoomed past the others. Down on the drops I went into testing mode, two k’s I guess, oldies, eat your hearts out!

Ahead I could see a tractor or something, whatever it is I'm catching it, hope it turns off. I didn’t want to give the others the benefit of a look behind, I concentrated on where I'm headed. Under the viaduct, through one of those chicane things that are popping up everywhere, then a good stretch of straightness. Come on Gab, it can’t be far now.

What the heck is that tractor doing? closing on it quickly my choices were reduced to pull in behind or overtake, well I'm not giving in after all this effort, overtake it is. I glanced briefly behind, clear, a car flashed the other way, right here goes. I swung out effectively blind, the tractor blocking the view forward – oh sugar!

Maddy Bell © 27.01.17