With four riders up the road and at the last time check, some four minutes separating them from the bunch there was no point in worrying over the prime in Logroῆo. Instead my thoughts were on the feed soon after and the start of the somewhat bumpier return to Pamplona. Yes, there are a couple of smaller leg stretchers and then the big one of the Alto de Guembe, lots of steep ramps and hairpins before a fast run back down into Pamplona.

And whilst I know both of our guys can climb, i’m pretty sure at some point, Curly and co will have their fill of watching me do nothing and go for the stage. We were now sweeping towards the town at something like forty five K, a long snake of riders headed by the Spanish team. Their effort not ours as we were sucked along in their wake through the local industrial park.

Then it was roundabout city, like every couple of hundred metres, as we did a circuit of the town. There was nothing left on the line but the Spaniards nevertheless made a big effort, worthy of the finale, to get Curly over the line first. Whether they were expecting some reaction I couldn’t say but we kept our cards close, there’s time enough yet.

Of course the feed zone just out of the town was the usual chaos, but thanks to Dads efforts in training, our people all collected their musettes without issue unlike several others who missed or dropped bags. I dug into my lunch bag and quickly stowed the contents ready to drop off the used bag.

“Best get the scoff down quick as Gab,” Josh advised.
“Yeah, a couple of K yet before the climb?”
“Bout ten, after the next village.”

We negotiated another couple of roundy bouts after which the road ran straight and fairly level off into the distance. I made short work of my sandwiches and the chunk of fruit cake, I can snack on the rest later. The fresh bidons were cold, which was a relief, warm energy drink is not pleasant and its getting quite warm now.

“The girls alright Daz?” I asked as he drew up beside me, replacing Josh for a bit.
“Yeah, they don’t half rattle though.”

Yup, if they’re talking they’re alright.

“You?”
“Bit bored to be honest, no one seems very keen on racing.”
“Not like Switzerland eh?” I agreed.
“Are we?” he hinted.
“Last climb,” I told him, “hard as, then sprint to the finish.”
“What about Mikel and Mand?”
“Sacrificial goats?” there is a chance they can hold out but i’m guessing we’ll take them maybe as soon as this next climb.

We transited the village and almost immediately started to climb, quite steadily but definitely up. Then we were dropping but not for long before resuming upwards motion, through a few trees then into a couple of not quite hairpins and wide bends towards an almost plateau like summit. Of course what goes up must come down and I found myself hanging doggedly onto Josh’s wheel as we lost altitude at a significant rate.

There was some hard braking in the village at the bottom, a pair of almost ninety degree turns requiring a bit less speed to get around in even this elongated peloton.

“One down,” Josh sighed.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “everyone on board?”
“Aye lass, BC will take the bottom, we’ll take the top.”

We haven’t really tried this tactic before, oh we’ve attacked on climbs but this is pure Tour de France stuff we’re planning.

The road rolled towards the distant motorway, i’m sure I could see the break at one point, still a good couple of minutes up the road. I was a little surprised when Curly dropped in alongside me, weirdly he didn’t say anything, just sat there.

“Heya.”
“Is warm eh?” he offered in just understandable German.
“Warmer than back home,” I allowed.
“Hmm, your friend ahead, clever move.”
“Thanks.”

He grunted again and moved away.

“What was that all about hen?”
“We’ve been rumbled.”
“The er big A?”
“Not that, just the M & M business.”
“Yer had me worried for a bit there pet,” Josh told me.

Obviously we didn’t join the autovia but our road followed it quite closely as we started to climb once more. The pace was quite high, the earlier sedate pace may have had more going for it after all. Another unimpressive summit then another fast descent to Estella where the final climb effectively starts.

But before the action there was more ‘dead’ ground to cover, a steepish climb from the river then gently climbing back to the motorway. Then just as it felt we would start losing height we turned and ahead of us was a wall of mountain and somewhere up there the Alto de Guembe. Team BC Schauff had been moving up and by the top of the first short climb up to a small reservoir were all ahead of our blue jerseys (well not mine obviously as i’m wearing my German champions jersey but you know what I mean.)

They didn’t do anything, they just were, a few ‘locals’ were sharing the pace, steady but enough to tail off the unwary. Another be-hairpinned climb up to a second, larger body of water did start to contribute victims, the field now stretched over a fair bit of road. Jamie turned to us and gave a short nod, out of the corner of my eye I saw Josh do likewise, game on.

Whilst not the strongest climbers, the BC girls had got one advantage here, several kilos each in fact so as they led us up away from the water, the heavier lads behind had to dig in to stay on. Curly gave me a questioning look from the opposite curb, I shrugged back with an equally questioning look. The girls kept going into the next ramp where Geth and Jamie went through to take over, their team mates quickly slipping back, job done.

The road continued upwards, the two lads sharing the pace, a pace that was enough to deter attacks and could be easily overlooked as protecting their team mate ahead of us. We reached a false summit and the road turned away uphill yet again, not especially steeply but enough to stop conversation. By the next village it was clear that they were running out of steam as a couple of Spaniards overtook them on the ramp into the square – time for the Appollinaris train.

Josh gave me a warning look as the guys slipped back past us, instead of going forward we stayed in behind the new leaders. The road barely covered twenty metres without some sort of turn and a one eighty loop allowed a chance to assess the damage behind. Extensive, riders in ones, twos, threes littered the mountainside below and now its the home team doing most of the damage.

Another false summit led us into the upper climb and for the first time the leaders came clearly into view a couple of turns ahead of us. It was like pulling a power cable, those doing the work seemed to think the job was over and the pace dropped off, now its our turn! Tal and Gret took point, Daz behind with Josh following and me glued to his wheel.

The sudden spurt of speed shook a few more bodies free, Curly was still in attendance but the hundred plus peloton has dwindled to perhaps twenty. Ahead I could pick out the leaders jerseys, well even that had changed, M & M were a short way ahead of the others now even as we closed on them all. One village, then as we approached the next, Tali came off, spent.

Guembe, after which the climb is named, was barely cleared before we started in on the hairpin strewn ascent to the pass summit. Gret rescinded the lead after taking us through the first pair of hairpins, Daz taking over and actually lifting the pace further. All around me I could hear heavy breathing, not least my own as I held onto Josh like a limpet.

Somewhere we must have passed the neutral service as we caught first one then the second Spaniard. We were in forest now and whilst the shade was nice it was quite stifling under the trees, I hit a bidon, a looong draft, won’t get much chance on the descent. Daz blew big style, Josh giving him a pat on the back as The Engine took over and once again the speed crept up and more damage occurred behind.

And then we were on the escapees, Josh powered through and suddenly no one was in front. We burst from the woodland and there, maybe four hundred metres away was the summit complete with banners and an albeit small crowd of race watchers. At two hundred I made my move and sprinted around the Toon who inadvertently (honest) blocked any immediate chase by Curly et al.

Yeah, I know its not the finale but there’re a good twenty K to the finish to recover, mostly downhill. So I took the first mountains points before finally being able to rest for a moment. Josh’s big effort had stripped the leaders to just six behind me, Josh himself just a few metres behind them.

The descent started wide and open, Josh quickly rejoining our group as I found myself being overtaken by the heavier lads with me.

“Get my wheel,” Josh gasped as I lost position, low weight is good uphill but downhill i’m at a serious disadvantage.

And so we screamed down off the mountain, our speed easily topping sixty K, I stopped looking at that point. A set of steeply ramped hairpins saw us lose height rapidly through more woodland and we quickly gained speed again towards what appeared to be a humpback bridge. Not just humpback but straight into a junction, my back wheel locked as I tried to decelerate, a squiggly session almost had me into the opposite wall but thankfully I just grazed it.

After a fairly quiet day it was all hell let loose now, I was able to move forward in the group now we were on a less gravitationally affected bit of road. Over another bridge and it was out of the saddle up a small rise before dropping to another river crossing. This time however the road was clearly climbing quite seriously in front, oh well, so much for resting downhill.

My thighs were well burning by the time I topped the climb, I allowed myself a glance behind after a rail crossing, bum, i’m clear. The road was tipping up again but only for about half a K to the next village, I dug deep, getting my second wind. I grabbed a bottle and my glug emptied it, okay lets do this Bond.

It wasn’t far to Pamplona now, ten twelve kilometres and I reckon i’ve got a fair chance of getting there. As soon as I hit the better road down in the valley I went into old school time trial mode, if I don’t get this it won’t be for lack of trying. The road of course had yet more uphill, a draggy climb but once over the top Pamplona lay before me.

No time for sightseeing, I concentrated my efforts along the almost straight road into the city. Through a bunch of roundabouts, well it became a bit of a blur to be honest as the commisaire led the way through city streets more used to bulls than bikes. And then there it was, the one K flag, can I get there?

I blindly followed the lead car and it was only when it pulled to the side waving me through that I realised I was there, the main square we departed five, six hours ago. Don’t look behind, don’t look behind but there it was, one of those big screens with me on it and more importantly no one else. Yes! I sat up and readjusted my jersey, raising both arms as I crossed the line, only now conscious of the cheering crowd and verbal diarrhoea of the MC.

I’d barely slumped over my bars before there was more exciteable noise and the sprint for second came in, if I had to say I think Curly got it but it was close. Josh came in at the back of the group but only just ahead of the next assemblage which I was surprised to see both Mikel and Manda in. I guess I shouldn’t have been, they were almost at the top of the Alto de Guembe when we caught them.

When Dad found me he just shook his head before giving me a hug, “you daft bugger.”
“It just happened Dad.”
“Hmm,” he er, hmmd.
“And I fancied a different jersey tomorrow,” I added with a grin.
“Come on, lets get you sorted out.”

I won’t bore you with the presentation, I couldn’t understand most of it after all. But apparently i’m officially leader and mountains overall, and in the girls classification, the points, for the mid race sprint, Mikel and Mand have the honours. Of course I can’t wear four jerseys, just the leaders fetching grass green jersey, which I reckon is an improvement on my National champs jersey!

Of course after the presentation I had to do the drugs sample stuff, yeah, like i’ve got a lot of confidence in all that after recent events. Of course I couldn’t go which earnt me a couple of bottles of cola to get things going and only half an hour later I got to head back to the accomodation.

“I told you nothing daft,” Kat huffed another hour later, i’d lost my premier massage position due to the drugs testing delay. “and what have you done to the other one, you been off?”
“No,” I replied in denial.
“Lets have a look,” she lifted my bloodied leg and carefully dabbed at it, “looks like road rash.”
Dur, “um, I think I might’ve scraped a wall?”
“That’d do it I guess, how’s the other leg?”
“Not noticed it, I did try to keep things steady.”
“Good, well lets get on, any other bashes I should know about?”
“Don’t think so.”

By the time she’d worked her magic and patched me up it was almost six.

Maddy Bell © 10.04.2018