*Chapter 11*
Two Dayzed

"Where are we eating? I'm starving.”
"Some place in Pickering, Black Swan I think Steve said.” Dad advised.

We hadn’t really gotten to talk with the BC people at the event, I saw Gethin and Jamie, that Bradley kid came third in the test and Mand says Daz is here. No Cav though, I guess this weekend isn’t really cut out for him – sprinting is really his thing and from what Dad’s said the parcours this weekend is, er, interesting. What with the presentation and having to wait to get the camper out of the car park we were the last to arrive at the food stop.

"We're up stairs in the function room,” Steve told us, "Nice ride Gaby.”
"Er thanks.”
"We eating or what?” Gret hinted in German.
 

The meal it has to be said was unmemorable, chicken Tagliatelle with a Carbonara sauce and a ‘leaf’ salad. Eatable and I guess it ticked some fuelling boxes but it was a bit bland, the sauce clearly out of a packet and the pasta slightly undercooked. At least we got sticky toffee pudding for dessert – the ‘chef’ was obviously more in his comfort zone with that.

"That was some ride Gabs,” Jamie mentioned joining me at the self serve coffee table – its crap coffee by the way.
"New bike syndrome,” I allowed.
"New bike?”
"Yeah Pinarello sent us the latest Montello’s specially for today.”
"Wow, I guess that’s the power of the rainbow jersey.”
I shrugged, “I guess, it woulda been nice to have had a ride before instead of just the turbo.”
"You hadn’t ridden it before?”
"Well Dad only built them up yesterday before we set off.”
The Scot put down his cup before really taking me by surprise by dropping to his knees at my feet, "All hail the time trial goddess!” he announced supplicating himself at my feet.
“Get up you idiot!”

He was still climbing back to his feet when Josh turned up with Bradley.

"What’re you two up ta man?” Josh queried.
"You’ll not get in her knickers like that,” Brad added which earnt him a hard stare.
"These guys hadn’t ridden their bikes until tonight.”
"Thought you said you were out earlier big guy,” Brad posed to Josh.
"Aye, on the road bikes.”
"Their time trial bikes ya daft Cockney, the first time Gab’s rode that bike was the race.”
"Seriously? And I'm not a Cockney.”
"Whit ever, I needed three sessions to get used ta the position and Gab just gets on and smashes it.”
"You guys haven’t got new road bikes as well,” the Londoner asked.
"Worried Wogan?” I smirked.
"No,” he stated, "Why would I be worried by some short arse Barbie doll?”
"Tha’s fightin’ talk man,” Josh opined.
"Brad!” someone called from across the room.
"My presence is required,” he stated before beating a hasty retreat.
"Jerk,” I mentioned to anyone listening, "What’s his problem?”
"Bruised ego lassie, fancies himself as top dog,” Jamie told us.”
“I'll show him who’s top dog!”
 

“...called me a short arse Barbie,” I told my audience.
"Cheeky sod,” Tali mentioned.

Its the same three of us sharing a ‘family’ room as the cabin on the ferry, at least this time we’re on terra firma!

"Jumped up twerp,” Mand added.
“I suppose that means you want to take him down?” Tali queried.
"Oh yeah, big style,” I stated.

A knock at the door interrupted the war council.

"Hello?” Mand queried.
"You girls going to sleep,” Dad suggested, "Heavy day tomorrow.”
"Yes Dad.”
"Breakfast at seven thirty.”
“’Kay, nite!”
"Nite ladies.”

We did sort of settle down after that, once we doused the lights I lay in bed plotting the oiks downfall, its no longer about winning or defending the jersey, no its personal now, I'll give him short arse Barbie!
 

Saturday arrived in Scarborough replete with sea fret and a chill in the air, according to Yorkshire Coast radio its supposed to be warmer later. Breakfast was greeted somewhat more enthusiastically by yours truly this morning – no chance of getting a drink last night – or tonight I'll warrant. By nine we were ready and we set off towards today’s start some fifty kilometres inland.

The traffic was light and mostly heading out to the coast, we arrived in Helmsley a tad before ten and found the parking adjacent to the castle. Angela and Sonja walked with us to the HQ in the junior school where the toilets were free (unlike the car park ones) and we could do the signing on stuff. Angela has some English and with some translation from yours truly we picked up the stuff for the car too. We get to have a following car today which is cool, we aren’t reliant on neutral service.

By the time we returned to the camper Dad and Dieter had the awning up and were just checking bikes over prior to putting them on the turbo's.

"Sorted?”
"Yes Dad, Josh has taken the radio straight to the car.”
“I'll go sort it Dave,” Dieter suggested, “I need top put the vinyls on anyhow.”
"Okay mate, right you lot, get yourselves ready, there’s a presentation before the start so you need to do your warm ups a bit earlier.”

Urgh, presentation, lets make a target of the girl in the blue shirt.
 

"Thank you Team GB,” the MC chap paused whilst Jamie and co descended from the stage, “last but by no means least, all the way from Germany, Team Apollinaris with our race leader, World Champion Gabrielle Bond!”

We clambered up to the stage and followed the handshaking custom.

"One thing you might have noticed folks is that most of Team Apollinaris are of the fairer sex, so lets start with this young man, Joshua Waugh, Josh what’s it like riding with these ladies?”
"Hard, the boss doesn’t let anyone freewheel, these guys give as good as they get.”
"And we’ll move along to another ex pat in the team, Amanda de Vreen...”

And so it continued along the line, I think he was surprised that all the girls speak fairly good English.

"And finally we come to last nights winner and race leader, Gabrielle Bond,” he had to pause to allow the cheering to die down, “Gabrielle, great ride last night, you start today with a thirty one second lead, how do you think today will go?”
"There are some good riders here, we’ll be aiming to restrict our losses rather than look for the win.”
"Thank you Gabrielle, thank you Team Apollinaris!”
 

We returned to the road where we collected our bikes from the rails before taking our places in the first rank.

“I thought some of the presentations back home were drawn out,” Mand sighed as we waited.

Hmm, she called Germany home, so why is she talking about leaving?

“… the race is neutral until we turn off the A170, so no racing please, I will stop the race,” the head Commisaire concluded.

Aha, time for action, I re-adjusted my braids and clipped my right foot in, an air horn parped and we pushed off following the lead car through the town.
 

Geez, I was down in bottom gear on the climb away from Helmsley, a drag of an incline not helped by our low speed. The flashing lights pulled away as we made the B1257 turn off, with a quick check of my team mates positioning I gave Josh the nod. The green flag appeared out of the cars sun roof, we’re off!

Josh was off like a shot, he was almost on the cars bumper before the driver noticed his move. Being restricted to a single carriageway has its advantages one being an easy block of pursuits. Yeah its the good old UK, racing on open roads doesn’t often include closed roads or even a rolling closure, a bit of Police control at junctions is all we’re gonna get today.

I don’t think most of the peloton even realised we were free to race until we made the turn in Oswaldkirk onto the circuit. Josh was away, almost out of sight, its up to the locals to do the chasing, the rest of us just run a watching brief.
 

"That worked well,” Ron offered, we’ve decided to use German this weekend, I doubt any of this lot speak it, if they do it’ll be the ‘where is the water tap my uncle is from London’ school of holiday translations.
“Keep an eye out for the BC lads, once they realise our tactic they might well counter.”

Of course there was some consternation when it was realised the lead car was away up the road. Not sure if I mentioned before but the field is mostly made up of divisional teams supplemented by a handful of racing club teams and of course the BC squad. In theory these are the cream of British junior racers but given the absence of Cav and a few others I know of its not quite that.

That all worked to our advantage, we’re used to racing riders from the low countries and we’ve all done the international stuff – even BC are only racing two maybe three experienced internationals. We were on the drag up to the next town before there was any sort of reply to our move, a couple of lads took off after Josh. When our reaction was zilch I'm pretty sure it caused more consternation around us.
 

Through Ampleforth, a typical Yorkshire village town and then the roads became narrower and twistier. Up ahead, Josh was completely lost from sight – he was putting in a huge effort, the pursuivants had maybe ten seconds gap on us and not going anywhere fast.

"You not racing?” Bradley queried.
“I don’t want to get sweaty,” I told him as I flicked a braid over my shoulder.
"Stupid tart,” he muttered.
"Am not,” I huffed, “I came first in my make up class.”

Wind up? Moi? The obnoxious ‘I am’ muttered something else a lady shouldn’t hear let alone repeat before setting off in pursuit of the escapees.

"What was that about Gabs?” Gret enquired.
"Well I think he needs some anatomy lessons.”
"So we follow him?”
“I reckon we’ll have some help right about,” I paused, "Now.”

Sure as eggs are eggs, a motley group of riders forced their way through to do our job for us. We slipped into the body of riders as we navigated our way past some old Abbey place and onto an even narrower lane that started to edge upwards into a more wooded area. The chase was hardly organised, riders just blasting away until someone else went past, this combined with the narrow lane ensured the chase was making little impact.

The climbing didn’t come to anything, the twisty nature of the road prevented any real views of what was happening. We eventually broke out onto a bigger road, the threat of a climb reduced to a vista of rolling countryside and for the first time we got a clear view of what was going on ahead of us. Our fellow riders seemed to draw strength from the view, it wasn’t organised but the chase was on.
 

We took our turns at the front, Josh is well away but bringing back his chasers helps us. Bizarrely the BC riders seemed to be quite enthusiastic in their chasing down of Woggo – perhaps its not all happy families on the national squad. The road had the odd bounce but my over riding feeling was of a steady loss of height as we crossed the Yorkshire countryside.

Easingwold, I'm sure Dad said that's about halfway around the lap, its also where we’ve identified as the escape point on lap two, something like thirty kilometres from the finish in Helmsley. The escapees lost the battle as we made the turn onto the Helmsley road but there was no sign of Josh. In fact it was only when there was a bigger vista a couple of kilometres on that I spotted the flashing lights away in the distance, go Toon boy, go!
 

Maddy Bell © 04.05.17