I was still suffering from acute embarrassment when Gloria dropped me off at home a while later.

"Two o'clock,” she reminded as I climbed down from her Cayenne.
“I'll be ready,” I confirmed, "Er thanks for the meal.”
"Our pleasure, Gaby, glad you enjoyed the evening.”
Was there a hint of merriment there?
"Er tschuss,” I started closing the door.
"Good night – oh, don’t forget your clutch.”
Oops, I scooped up my bag, "Nite.”

She waited until I had the door open before gunning the Porsche away back towards Rech.
 
"Anyone want a drink?” I called through as I swapped heels for slippers.
A moment later Mand appeared, “I'll make them.”
“’Kay.”
"So, spill,” she demanded as she filled the water boiling device.
"Nothing to tell.”
"Come off it, Gab, a whole evening with Max.”
"And his parents and a restaurant full of other people,” I countered, "And nothing was gonna happen anyway.”
She snorted at that, "And I'm a Dutchman.”
"Think that was your grandfather.”
"Ha de har.”
I think I put her off the trail.
 
"So where’s this race?” I enquired blearily as we made our way past Bonn.
Dad retrieved his clipboard and passed it over, "Second sheet.”
I flipped the paper over, "Schlosspark Benrath*, sounds a bit posh?”
"They’ve got some sort of community festival on.”
"A step up from up and down the straight at Crystal Palace,” Mand suggested.
"Or windswept airfields,” I proffered.
"Ridden a few of them,” Mand agreed.
"Well Angela reckons this place is mostly trees,” Dad told us.
 
By the time Dad found a spot to park the Hymer, we couldn’t get in the event car park due to the height limit, it was rolling on ten thirty. A cloudburst as we drove the twenty K from Mettmann left the ground wet but already blue was replacing the grey, the lake in front of the Schloss twinkling as the light breeze tickled the water’s surface. Kiddy rides were preparing for the day to one side, what looked like a sort of craft fair filling the space between the two wings of the Schloss, actually separate buildings.

"Go sign in, it says the HQ is in the Schloss. I'll get the bikes ready,” Dad proposed.
“’Kay,” I agreed.
The three of us followed the path around to the right of the pond to where a wide sandy area led towards the activity.
"Been here before?” Mand asked.
"Not me.”
"A few times,” Ron supplied, "We’ve been to the flower show a few times.”

I spotted a sign proclaiming ‘Events HQ’ and so we steered that way, a few other peeps were going in the same general direction. Another sign pointed into the closest building and soon we were in the queue for event entries. As is common at this sort of thing it’s not just bike races, separate queues led to tables for the assorted running and cycling events as well as what was billed as a ‘micro’ triathlon.

"Shoulda bought your cozzie,” Mand opined.
"Great idea,” I sneered.
"You guys go to the pool,”
"Not to swim,” I pointed out.
“I bet,” Ron chuckled.
"And anyway I'm a crap runner.”
"There is that,” Mand agreed.
"You’re not supposed to agree.”
“I have seen you run,” she pointed out.
"Next!” the woman at the cycling table prompted.
 
"Ten Euros,” I complained again.
"Give over, Gab,” Mand suggested.

Well I guess it’s not exactly a fortune for ‘on the line’ entry, Dad generally sorts all the entries and I'll get the dosh back but still. Our race isn’t until one so there was no rush to get ready and we took the longer route back to the now unmistakable Apollinaris team bus. Dad mentioned about George’s decals the other day – well if ‘Apollinaris Cycling’ in thirty centimetre high letters is subtle then it’s subtle.

Whilst we’d been gone Dad and Angela had got the easy up erected in a gap between a couple of trees.

"Sorted?” Dad enquired.
"Yeah,” I allowed brandishing our race numbers, "One o’clock.”
He checked his watch, "Time for coffee then.”
 
“Jungern und Frauen, zehn minuten,” the PA system announced.

We’d been waiting with our fellow competitors to get onto the circuit in a sort of holding area and joined the surge of bodies onto the course. You might have spotted it’s a mixed category race, we qualify on both scores of course – not that the field is huge, half a dozen women and about forty lads – well there’s us too so almost fifty riders. We might if we’re lucky get a couple of laps in between now and the start.

It’s a public park, the race circuit using a loop through the woodland on reasonable path before swinging onto a narrower, packed earth path back towards the Schloss, tracking the ‘canal ’. When I say narrow, well it’s probably three metres wide with a high hedge on one side, so hitting this section in a good position will be essential. The finish will be on the wide thoroughfare but the race circuit actually loops back onto the woodland path.

It’s certainly going to be an interesting race, thirty laps of a kilometre and a half each so not long, maybe an hour but an hour of graft. We actually managed three warm up laps before the officials stopped us and we joined the congregation waiting to start. Obviously there’s no service today, just a comissaires motorbike leading the race for safety – it’s still a public park complete with kids and dogs after all.

No big speeches, no presentation just a bit of spectator information issued over the PA – oh and instructions for lapped riders. I spotted Dad and Angela behind the barriers, several spare wheels at their feet, we’ll have to get back here if we have any issues. I idly took a bite of energy bar followed by a mouthful from my bidon.

BAAARP!
And we’re off.
 
In a field of such diverse abilities the first lap would inevitably be a tortuous and potentially dangerous affair – especially with the narrow course. No sooner had we cleared the barriered area than some of the more ambitious riders started forcing their way forward even taking to the grass to pass slower traffic. I found myself hemmed in and we were already turning towards the canal before I slipped the noose and broke free.

I recognised more than a few of my fellow competitors from recent events at Rattingen and even a couple who rode at the Ring last week. It might be a chipper but it’s not going to be an easy ride. The field was already quite stretched out, I checked for the others, Ron was up near the leaders, Mand a few spots closer to me.

Whoever is up front was keeping quite a high pace as we flitted through the trees but then a squeal of brakes presaged a compression of the field as, for the first time during the race, we hit the narrower canal path. I can’t repeat some of the language, some of it with Mad’s distinct Anglo Saxon verbs! By the time I reached the turn several riders were retrieving bikes from the grass, looks like nothing too serious.

Easing past the carnage I set about chasing down the leaders, a job not made any easier by the soft surface of the path. we’ve no specific team plans – well a victory would be nice of course but it’s pretty much every girl for herself. I picked past a few riders and by the time the speed eased a little to take the turn back into the woodland, I was on the back of the lead group.

“Flippin’ ‘eck!” Mand exclaimed as we sped once more through the trees.
"Brutal,” I agreed.

From the original fifty riders I'd guess we were already reduced by half – most of the damage being done by that single corner. Yeah this afternoon is gonna be all about staying out of trouble.
 
With a smaller group we negotiated the transition corner without incident, well without any off's at least, for next several laps, a couple of lads doing most of the driving on the front. Indeed I was quite surprised to hear the bell announcing the first of two mid race primes at the end of the next lap. Well if there’s money on the line, count me in, I'd been holding station towards the rear of the group with Manda but I now eased my way closer to where Ron was.

I wasn’t the only one with desires on the pot, well how could I be? We made canal turn slightly faster than previously, was that a little bit of skid? We tore along the dirt path, occasional plumes of dust marking our progress on the rapidly drying surface.

By the end of the straight I was tucked in fourth wheel, primed to launch a Bond mega sprint. The slight rise up onto the main path played into my hands and I took off like the proverbial fly with a blue posterior. It was only about fifty metres to the line and I sailed over several lengths clear – yeah, first blood to Bond.

It was tempting to keep going but by the time I'd taken a slug from my bottle the other front runners were at my shoulder. Next time then. We were now about a dozen, then a few chasers followed by a larger group, maybe we should capitalise on our advantage.

Both girls were with me in the lead group, Ron being the one struggling a little today on the back of the group. Clearly there was some recollection by some riders of previous Apollinaris interactions, the pace kept high in, I think the hope that it’d stunt any escape plans. Well if that’s how you want it, I settled back in at fourth wheel, no point wasting energy.
 
"Alright?”
"Guess so,” Mand gasped back, "Wish they’d ease off a bit.”
"Yeah,” I shrugged, there’d been no real let up for about five laps and even I was starting to feel the effort.
"You gonna have a go?”
"Next prime,” I confirmed.

She nodded in understanding before dropping behind, I'm guessing to advise Ron. Well I'm not sure what was said but the girl from Mettmann suddenly came ripping past in a clearly suicidal attack – or was it? There was a reaction, itself hindered by the already high pace, not quick enough to stamp on Ron’s move straight off.

We were back on the canal path before we were back together and thankfully the chase resulted in a lowering of speed once Ron was back in the fold. I quickly fed myself, not had a chance for nearly twenty minutes and I want to be ready for my attack. Ron nodded as she dropped back, I signalled two laps before concentrating on my riding once more.
 
It was a short lived rebate in the groups speed as the bell sounded again we were back at forty K, strung in a single strand along the roadway. I made a couple of places turning onto the dirt path, not too keen on the bit of slip but I was well placed for the prime. From second wheel I launched early, we were still on the canal path, I almost caught air on the lip onto the tarmac, the small crowd were cheering and I was still accelerating through the line.

This time however I kept going full gas, mashing the chain round with great fervour. Ten laps and counting, Bondtastic! I paced myself to the motorbike with its flashing lights a hundred metres ahead, so far so good.
 
Two laps later and I'd chanced a quick look behind, about two hundred metres was the gap, they certainly weren’t taking things lying down. A quick sip from the bottle and I snicked up into top, I need to make this stick. Sunshine was dappling the course now, slanting through the branches, alternatively washing out and hiding the road surface.

Which was how I hit canal turn a mite fast.
"Shi-it!”
I was around the corner but my rear wheel washed out on a patch of now dry gravel.
"Ooof!”

I hit the deck, momentum carried me forward across the gravel and onto the grass where I came to rest half way down the slope to the water. Bum, I quickly stood and grabbed my bars, almost dragging the bike back up to the path. The chasers whooshed past as I struggled to get moving again, hindered by the chain having become wedged behind the crank, bum, bum, bum!
 
Maddy Bell © 30.03.17

*pronounced 'Benrat'