No Bull
I say gloom, it wasn’t for me as my eyes quickly adjusted to the lower light levels but I was banking on the others either keeping their bins on or not removing them until we were in the trees. I darted to the left hand kerb and kept effort high easily dropping the threesome and closing a good lump of the gap to Mand and Josh. Of course, Josh ‘The Engine’ Waugh was giving it full gas, Mand doggedly sat on his wheel giving occasional glances behind.
I stayed well to the left and by the lack of reaction from Manda, I remained undetected. The plan wasn’t to just catch them, there’s actually a good chance they’d be able to thwart my onward movement. No, for now its getting close enough for the main event but not to reveal my presence too soon.
With a couple of left turns coming up I swapped kerbs to the duo’s blind side, none too soon as this time it was Josh who glanced behind, still be-glassed. By the penultimate turn before the first hairpin I was on station, ten metres back, hopefully just out of hearing range although I could easily hear their exhalations.
“Still can’t see her,” Mand mentioned.
“She’s got to be there somewhere like,” Josh puffed back.
“Somewhere,” Mand agreed.
I let myself drift left, as those in front lined up to take the flatter outside of the approaching corner. Even so its pretty steep but not as steep as where I was going, steady, steady, go Gab! I stomped on the pedals and instead of following the others I turned sharply in and headed for the inside of the turn. It was a calculated chance, it was silly steep of course, close on fifty percent I guess but not impossible given the handful of metres to cover.
“Sugar!”
“What the?”
I almost stalled which would’ve been embarrassing but I just forced it through and onto the much flatter roadway above the turn. Boy that was hard, I kept the revs high only chancing a smaller sprocket twenty metres further on. I took several deep breaths both to refill my lungs and slow the hammering of my ticker all the time keeping the pressure on.
At the next hairpin I took a gentler route around before accelerating up the straight out of the saddle. I reckon its about a kilometre to the top, still too far to relax but once I was sat again I took another swig from my bidon before wiping at the sweat running into my eyes. Not the best idea, salt in your eyes is never good, it took a few blinks and another more careful wipe to get back to seeing properly.
When I looked down from the last hairpin I wasn’t surprised to see Josh on his own below me but where is de Vreen? I glanced further behind him, nope, which means she’s ahead of the Toon, yep, she’s progressed a lot in the last year or so. Right, lets finish this, I dropped another sprocket and stood to get on top of the resulting gear, accelerating before reseating myself.
Mand must’ve been closer than I thought as there was a muttered curse followed by the sounds of a muffed gear change. I kept the gear going, what’s that up ahead? Looks like a car, one hasn’t passed us so I must be catching it. Well any carrot is still a carrot, I slipped back a gear to get the revs up and set off afresh.
It can’t be, nah, surely not. Well if its not its a mirage, I was closing the distance quickly towards the white Alhambra which, if I’m not mistaken, belongs to Senór Lamba. Closer, closer, ahead I could see the bobbing heads of at least two of the BC team, I know its a bit mean but gotta be done.
The end of the trees hove into view, beyond its about half a K to the nominal top, lets do this Bond. This calls for TT mode, I dropped onto the er, drops and concentrated on fast, quickly closing the remaining distance. I sprinted the last few metres up to car as we exited the trees then took a moment to compose myself before pulling out to pull alongside it.
“Hi guys!” I cheerfully greeted as I drew level with the drivers window.
If Olivier was surprised he hid it well but I’m sure he’d seen me in the mirror.
“Wondered how long it would be,” Caro opined leaning across the car.
“We weren’t chasing you guys.”
“I’m sure.”
“Have to go, Mand’s not far behind.”
I returned to my task, accelerating past the car and towards my friends. Whether by design or not the bobbing bodies belonged to Lor, Sal and Claire, further ahead the lads were apparently waiting for them. Not too harsh Gab.
“Heya!”
“Bond!” Lor puffed.
“Tough climb,” I suggested.
“For some of us,” Sal complained.
“Laters!”
“Cow.” Claire mumbled as I moved away.
I didn’t get to the lads before the top instead pulling up and slumping over the bars to get my breath back. The girls re-passed me and Olivier tooted as they passed, I managed a weak wave back. Mand wasn’t that far behind, I was pleased to see she was in worse condition than me, I’m not being mean but you know what I mean.
“Who?” Josh asked rolling up to us.
I weakly raised a hand.
“Nearly got her wheel,” Mand advised, “must’ve heard me.”
“Damn,” Josh allowed.
“Ut uh, couldn’t see you with J, guessed you were between,” I told them.
“Bum,” Mand sighed.
“Come on, the others are coming,” Josh prompted.
“Slave driver,” I suggested clipping back in.
We were back together well before we reached airport hill and another pell mell descent to sea level. I think I saw the BC lot away in the distance as we headed back to Lezo but even another stint of through and off on the main road would never be enough to catch them. Well especially when we turned off the power a kilometre or more before we reached Lezo, they were still parking bikes when we arrived back at Villa Lezo Atlantico.
Between showering, packing and eating the next couple of hours flew past but we were all set to depart just turned one thirty. Our little convoy moved out but we were split up before we even reached the motorway, its a good job Senór Lamba had written us directions. We soon picked up the A15 and started south towards Pamplona, along, it must be said a quite twisty and hilly route through the mountains.
I was of course riding with Kat again, Josh and Tal in the back.
“Legs okay Gab?”
“Bit sore,” I allowed.
“We’ll get you sorted out once we get there.”
“Yeah,” I allowed.
“Probably that stupid move on that corner,” Josh opined from behind.
“What’s that?” Kat queried.
“She cut through the apex of this stupid hairpin, must’ve been like thirty, forty percent.”
“That first one,” Tal suggested.
“Aye,” Josh agreed.
“Ouch,” his girlfriend allowed.
“It was only like a couple of metres,” I pointed out.
“No wonder your legs ache,” Kat told me, “just be careful, you could do real damage like that.”
That’s me told.
The Bimmer made short work of the distance to Pamplona and it seemed no time at all before we were turning off onto the Pamplona ring road. I had thought we’d be billeted in the city itself but instead we took the ring for about a K before turning off at a sign for Artica. Our accomodation wasn’t actually a hotel as such but rather a sort of boarding house attached to a college, oh well.
“Top luxury,” Josh suggested.
“Hardly Switzerland,” Tal agreed, “remember that place in Luzern?”
“Was a bit overboard,” I noted.
“They could probably get this place for cheap,” Kat opined.
The minibus arrived with the rest of the vehicles in their wake.
Home from home its not, the rooms sparsely furnished in a very utilitarian way, shower and sink in the room but communal toilets. Well I guess we won’t be in there too much, there is a sort of games room and lounge and meals will be in a very school like cafeteria. I guess its not that different to when we were at Lilleshall last year except everyone here is here for the same thing.
Room allocation was the same as at Lezo except the sexes are separated in different parts of the building. We gathered in the lounge once we’d got bags into rooms.
“Right folks, I know its not the Ritz but its what it is. For those that still want one we’ll do the massages in the camper today. we’ll eat here tonight, we need to be at the reception at seven thirty so change before dinner. Anything to add Caroline, Kat?”
“Same order as yesterday starting in twenty minutes,” Kat advised.
“If you left laundry with me earlier you can collect it at the same time,” Angela added.
“Okay then people, dinner at five thirty.”
“Ooh!” I complained as Kat flexed my leg.
“Hmmm, this hurt,” she repeated the procedure with the other pin.
“No, that's fine.”
“I think you’ve got a small tear, probably from that daft move earlier.”
“Is that bad?” It sounds bad.
“We’ll keep an eye on it but they usually heal quite well, bit uncomfortable for a couple of days.”
“But I can still race?”
“I’ll check again in the morning, we might put a support dressing on as a precaution but you should be okay.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, ”after the last few weeks that would’ve been the icing.”
“Just don’t go doing anything daft for a couple of days.”
“Moi?”
“You forget Gaby Bond, I know you and your antics so no showing off on the dance floor eh?”
“In that dress, not exactly likely.”
“I always feel a right plonker in this,” Mand mentioned.
“And the rest of us don’t?”
“Never said that, whoever designed it should have to wear it.”
“Its only for a couple of hours.”
“Yeah,” she sighed in agreement, “lets go eat.”
We certainly got some looks in the cafeteria, regular dogs dinners amongst the burger and chips. The food was actually quite good, although eating it in smart stuff was a bit of a challenge – think a pasta buffet with all the potential for disaster that has with it. But there was plenty of it and my dress survived the Tagliatelle Carbonara and the fruit salad unscathed.
Then it was time to head into the city for this posh pre race reception, the organisers had put on buses, well coaches, to take everyone into the centre. Yep, like many old cities there isn’t a lot of parking in the centre or even access through the narrow streets. The reception was at the local equivalent of the town hall, a sort of gothic edifice by the main city square.
We separated into our two squads, well it wouldn’t look good to be too cosy, and joined the other riders, race officials and local big wigs inside. Of course much like Switzerland last year, the race is a big thing for the local tourist board and we had to run the gauntlet of posters and displays. Like a load of teenage bike racers and their minders are gonna be interested in all that stuff.
“I thought I recognised the name,” Gret whispered as we waited to do the shake and greet business.
“Eh?” Tali queried.
“The bull thing.”
“Bull thing, like bullfights?” Mand asked.
“No, you know the bulls chase people through the streets.”
“Ah, that Pamplona,” Tali allowed.
So that's what was on those posters.
“De Alemania, Team Apollinaris!” the MC announced.
Guess that's us then.
Maddy Bell © 31.03.2018
Comments
There's an old saying, 'the
There's an old saying, 'the greater risk, the greater the reward.' let's hope those risks don't put gabs out of racing, though. (But if they do, she does have her singing to fall back on.) :P
she's a cyclist
not a namby pamby ball kicker! We is made of hard stuff, us cyclists, bit of a knee strain - it'll be fine!
We've had riders complete the Tour de France with broken hips, gashes and road rash might get treated before the end of a race or they might not, we may be bloodied but it takes a lot to stop us getting straight back on! I've arrived home more than once bloodied and bruised, having completed maybe 50 miles after an episode, just last year I rode six miles back after dislocating my shoulder, it was ten miles when I smashed my knee cap. Yup, hard or perhaps just soft between the ears!
Madeline Anafrid Bell