Well it was a bit of a disappointment that we couldn't go for a drive in the new car but its still pretty cool to have a brand new motor. The business with the crane was horrible, I mean really terrible, the poor crane driver, it was really sad but out of that has been some good for the Bonds. We'd still have the ten year old Mercedes if things had been different but instead we've got a shiny new Saab 93.

“What are you grinning about?” Max queried as Olaf chauffered us towards another day at college.
“Nothing.”
“Oh come on, you're fizzing like cheap cola.”
“Dad's got a new car.”
“Nice, what's he got, Merc, BMW?”
“Ut uh,” I teased.
“Wasn't he looking at a VW?”
“Think foreign,” I suggested.
“Skoda?”
“Thats just a Vee Dub,” Freddy opined from the front seat.
“I dunno, give up,” Max shrugged, “what is it then?”
“A Saab.”
“Really?”
“Yep, had to get it from a dealer in Venlo,” I advised my audience.
“So how old is it?”
“Its not.”
“Not what?”
“Not old, its brand new.”
“Nice,” Freddy opined, “you won't like slumming it with us then.”
“Whilst I think about it,” the usually stoic Olaf started, “tomorrow, I'm afraid you'll have to make your own way down, i've got a nine o'clock meeting in Trier so I'll be going from home.”
“Sure we'll manage,” Max replied.

Bum, that means the train, its not like Olaf has to bring us each day but you get sort of comfortable with it, I suppose like commuters the world over.

 
It was tempting to just not go to college Friday but lack of a lift wouldn't hold much water with Lisbet or my parents. Willie, Max's dad, actually took the three of us down and brought us back which was useful what with doing the kiosk set up. With all the extra hands we made short work of things, Herr Sebenschuh brought down his spare till, we had the old coffee machine of course and so it was pretty much a case of plugging stuff in and putting up the decoration.

“That everything?” Steff asked.
“Dad'll bring the supplies down first thing in the morning,” Con supplied.
“What about the float for the till?”
“I picked it up from the bank earlier,” Bridg told us.
“Looks like we can go home then,” Steff sighed.
“Sorry about tomorrow,” I offered.
“We'll get our pound of flesh when you get back,” Nen replied.
“Just don't break anything skiing,” P ordered, “either of you.”
“There probably won't be any snow even,” Mand suggested.
 

“Seems a bit weird, you know, not bringing any bike kit to a bike training day,” I suggested as Dad slipped the car off the slip lane into the traffic.
“Frank was sure of it, just keep fit clothes.”
“I know, but it still seems a bit weird going cycling in dancing stuff.”
“Which isn't that much different from your bibs or that skin suit you wore for the ad, didn't exactly hide much eh?”
“Dad!”
“I might be your father but I'm not blind kiddo and whilst I might not like it, you are a young woman now with everything that goes with that.”

I was feeling quite a flush already, has he worked out that I'm just wearing knickers and paint in the ad?

“Pity about that suit though.”

Maybe not then.

“er yeah although it wasn't that comfortable.” that paint itched something chronic after a bit!

 
After the first few minutes of investigating the various controls and hidey holes of the new wheels, the journey, only about an hour to some place just north of Wiesbaden, was just, well a journey. So okay, when we got onto the A3 Dad did let his enthusiasm get the better of him, we sat behind a chap in a fancy nine eleven in the donor lane for a bit, I'm sure I saw one eighty on the dial! We came off the autobahn at Idstein and a few minutes later we were on a little lane in the middle of knowhere.

“You sure this is right?”
“Frank sent me the directions, we want the Sporthalle in Wingsbach.”
“You'd think they'd do it somewhere a bit more, I dunno, easy to find.”
“This looks like Wingsbach,” Dad observed as a village hove into view ahead, “the hall is supposed to be off to the left somewhere.”

We'd barely passed the name board before I spotted a sign for 'Sporthalle / Tennisplatz' and soon enough we quickly arrived at our destination. The clue was the couple of cars with bikes on the roof and Frank Obermeyer talking to a familiar looking girl. Dad swung us into a parking bay and I quickly grabbed my bag and headed for the building.
 
“Izzy!”
“Ah, Bond,” Frank allowed.
“Gab or should I call you your Highness,” Iz greeted meeting me with a hug.
"Let me think.... best be Gaby, so what are you doing here?”
“Same as you I guess, Frank rang and said he wanted me to come up.”
“New car Dave?” Frank's question alerted us to Dad's arrival.
“Thought it was time we had something more practical than the Hymer, nice to see you again Frank.”
“Well we're all here now, shall we go inside and get started.”

Frank led the way into the modern sports hall.

“Exactly what are we doing today?” I queried.
“Opening up your minds, perhaps giving your heads a different focus, come, the girls are waiting.”

Frank led us to a row of chairs where I recognised Izzy's mother chatting with a couple of track suited individuals.

“Gaby, Dave, i'd like you to meet Josef and Bettina Fendt, they'll be putting you girls through your paces today, Jo, Betti, this is our Weltmeisterin Gaby Bond and her father Dave, he's DS of the Apollinaris juniors.”

Dad offered his hand, greetings were exchanged and once we were settled, Jo stood up and started to address us.

“So ladies, today we'll introduce you to some bicycling different to what you are used to. Some history for you, artistic or indoor cycling has been practised almost since the invention of the bicycle. Acrobatics and trick cycling were most often seen at the circus or music hall, it was very much this way until the nineteen fifties. Since then it has developed into more of a sporting than entertainment discipline, in eighty four the first international championships were held and as you may have discovered we will shortly step up to the UCI umbrella much like BMX, track racing and so on. As part of that the Federation have now taken on responsibility, so while we are no longer independent we have gained the resources and experience of the National Federation.”

He paused for a moment before going on, “So, what is Artistic Cycling? Well for competition purposes each rider has a five minute slot in which to perform a series of set exercises and individual pieces which are judged in much the same way as gymnastics or competitive dance, either of you do either of those?”
“Sorry,” Izzy shook her head.
“Fraulein Bond?”
“I um do Garde and Cheering, we did some sort of gymnastics when I was in England last year,” I allowed.
“Cheering?” Izzy queried, “can't imagine you bouncing about with those pom pom things.”

Jo interrupted before that conversation could develop.

“This is good I think, Frank says you both have experience of the fixed gear? On the velodrome?”

we both nodded confirmation.

“So before we go any further, I think we will see a demonstration, Betti if you please.”
 
I hadn't noticed but Bettina had stripped out of her trackies and fetched a bike that had been propped against a wall. I'm guessing Josef is her other half, they don't look like siblings at least, anyhow Jo switched on a CD player and some of that sort of wishy music skaters and gymnasts use filled the hall. Betti did a quick scoot, I missed exactly how, but next moment she was stood with a foot on the bars, the other on the saddle.

Well i've no idea what any of it is called and I can't even describe half of it. The bike was continually moving, forward, backwards, on both wheels, just one, Bettina gracefully moving from one position to the next. It was the same sort of stuff that Dad showed me at home except I'm in the same room and I could clearly see the effort and body control required for some of the moves.

Jo stopped the sounds and Bettina dismounted with a graceful step off. The small audience applauded and Jo returned to centre stage so to speak.

“So, today we aren't aiming for you to do such moves as Betti, these typically take many hours of practice. No for today we will work on some basic movements then after lunch we will get you onto bicycles and try some simple control moves. First I think you might want to change into more appropriate clothes?”
 

“I wonder what 'control moves' actually means,” Iz queried as we utilised the ladies to change into our 'more appropriate' togs.
“Probably that stuff sat on the handlebars,” I suggested.
“Looks well dodgy that.”
“Its all confidence I guess, you ready?”
“I feel a right prawn,” she told me when she emerged from her cubicle.

Well perhaps the all in one leotard was a bit much, not helped by being an eyewatering acid green and purple.

“Interesting colours,” I allowed.
“Mum got it in Ulm the other day, do you wear undies with these things?”
“Its a good idea,” I opined.
“Thought so but I wasn't sure if they were like bike shorts.”

The thought of those seams rubbing lady bits doesn't really bear thinking about! My own outfit was more, er contemporary dance, a pale blue sports bra and navy three-quarter length tights/ and yes I have knickers on!

“You look comfortable in those.”
“Well i've been doing the Tanz and cheer for a few years, you get used to it I guess, come on, time to meet our public.”
 

We started off with a pretty much standard warm up, the sort of stuff we do at the Tanzklub, slow stretches, nothing too energetic, just getting the muscles ready for some action. I sort of zoned out a bit as Josef called the moves, I came back to the here and now to find everyone looking at me.

“What?”
“Er Gab, you never said you were a professional dancer,” Iz whispered across to me.
“I'm not.”
“You might not be professional young woman but you are certainly very accomplished,” Bettina opined.
“How do you reckon that?”
“I did ballet from age three and I never was comfortable doing side splits, I could never get my bum to the floor,” Betti told us, “you however are in the perfect pose without help.”
'Erm,” I looked over at Iz who had got her legs to about ninety degrees whilst mine were at the full one eighty. “practice?”

I could hear Dad's distinctive chortle across the room where he was talking with Izzy's parents and Frank, Herr Beyer having returned from walking the families dogs.

“Well it will make it easier for you to do some of the exercises,” Josef stated.
 
And so the morning proceeded, just like we do for Cheer and Garde, Betti blocked out what we were to do and we stood or sat as required on the mats to follow her. A lot of it was balancing and turns, very controlled like Garde but with more movement, not exactling jumping around of course. By the time Frank called a break for lunch I was feeling it a bit and Izzy was starting to look quite uncomfortable.

Lunch had been delivered mid morning, I guess from a local restaurant as it consisted of a tray of finger foods, a huge thermos with soup and a smaller one with coffee. Oh there were soft drinks too, no one would be getting fat but it would fill a hole until dinner. We only broke for about thirty minutes at which point our task mistress fetched her bike over.
 

“okay girls, we have practised on the floor now we need to transfer that to the fahrrad. First we need to get on the bicycle, so first we step here....”

Of course, what I haven't mentioned is that whilst I'm a metre fifty eight in my stocking feet, Betti is about one seventy and some and Izzy is a good ten centimetres taller than me. There is just no way I can use the same bike, so whilst Iz was getting to grips with Bettina's machine, Josef sorted me out with a smaller machine. Eventually we were both managing to circle the hall on the weird machines, the gearing is really low, the bars very close and the wheelbase is silly short.

“you are going around now, we need to try our moves from the floor but on the bicycles,” Josef told us, “so first, one foot onto the handlebars.”

Well I won't say I was perfect, okay I was a bit over enthusiastic and managed to fall off once, second time around I succeeded, getting leg two up was easier. Well easier maybe but it felt distinctly like I had no control over my steed, yes I was steering but part of riding a bike is using the rotating pedals for control and that wasn't happening. We spent about thirty minutes repeating that exercise before moving on to the next 'form', no hands!

Okay, hands up if you can ride a bike no hands, yep a lot of folk can do that but try it with your legs over the handlebars. Not so easy eh? Iz really wasn't getting there but I, if not quite happily, got to a point where I could do the two laps Betti wanted from us before retaking control. You get the idea, nothing we were doing was too technical, it just needed confidence and control.
 

After another short break we broke off into a one on one, I got Betti, Izzy had Josef.

“You ready to try something a bit fancier?”
“Erm,”
“Nothing too technical I promise.”
“Okay.”

Technical by her standards it might not be but for me it was quite scary, I mean have you ever tried doing the splits on a bike and not holding the handlebars? Thought not, balancing on my tum in a sort of Superman position, was considerably easier as at least I was touching the bars. We each finished up doing the mini routine we'd been working on, I was quite warm, I'm sure Iz was even more so in that full suit thing, anyhow we were both glad it was over.

“Go get yourselves cleaned up,” Frank suggested then we'll have a quick chat before we finish.”
 

“Well I hope you've both enjoyed today, learnt some new skills,” Frank started.
“Its been different,” Iz allowed.
“Well thats partly been the idea Izzy,” Frank noted, “but we're also looking at ways of making your training more interesting and varied, it can get a bit boring sat on a turbo or pounding the roads, especially in the winter.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“So, if you girls are up to it we thought we'd set you girls a challenge.”
“Challenge?” Izzy queried.
“Go on,” I suggested.
“Well, if you are up for it, we want you to practice what you've learnt today, the Fendt's will coach you on some extra skills as you go along and then we'll have a little competition in the spring.”
“Gab'll win that hands down,” Iz suggested.
“Not neccesarily,” Josef put in, “we'll be judging on progress from today, so maybe Gaby has better skills but you will have a bigger margin to improve.”
“Come on Iz, we can kill this, frighten the opposition with our skills.”
“What about bikes, I don't even have a track bike.”
“You can borrow the machines you've been using today,” Frank told us.

And so it was settled, we get to play with some weird bikes, then we get to show off our skills at some unspecified point next spring. If it gets me out of a few turbo sessions I'm all for it.

 
“So what do you reckon?” Dad asked as we headed back out to the A3.
“I reckon we need to get a rack fitted to the car,” I suggested looking into the back where the borrowed bike lay over the rear seats.
“In good time.”
“What about going to Austria tomorrow, we're not going in the Hymer are we?”
“All the bikes are going in the truck, stop avoiding the question, what do you think about this 'challenge'?”
“Its certainly a different idea, is it just me and Iz?”
“They're doing another trial session up north somewhere, you might have more competition than just Isolde Beyer.”
“Bum.”
“Have you got everything packed for tomorrow, I want to pack the car tonight.”
“Er, mostly.”
“Gaby, you've known we're going early for at least a week,” Dad sighed, pushing the speedo well over a hundred twenty K as we joined the autobahn.
“Yeah but there was Mand's party and then we've been working on the cafe, and we've been doing this today.”
Pater just shook his head, “one day kiddo, one day.”
 

“So how'd the market go?” I asked Manda as we spooned Chinese food out onto plates, okay its not exactly bike food but its not exactly a regular thing.
“Pretty busy, we lost power for a bit, the whole market, not just us, some idiot reversed a van into the supply box thingy and tripped everything.”
“Wasn't me, so how did the newbies get on?”
“Okay I guess, they were doing the tables mostly, I got landed with the till most of the day.”
“Well we're off on our hols tomorrow!”
“Not exactly a holiday.”
“Well its away from here and no college, counts as holiday for me.”
“If you say so, whats in that container?”
“Pork balls.”
“Give 'em here, so how did your 'arty' riding go?”
I passed the foil tray over, “okay, its flippin' hard work.”
“So you can do those wheelie tricks and stuff now then?”
“Don't be daft, did get to ride no hands or feet,”
“Well exciting and thats useful how?”
“I dunno, maybe I can join the circus.”
“If you say so, we all done?”
“Think so.”
“Come on then, I'm starving.”

 
“Shoulda got a van,” I noted adding my bags to the pile of stuff Dad was surveying in the cellar.
“It'll go in, now are you sure that's the lot?”
“Yes Dad.”
“Shoes, helmet?”
“In the bike bag.”
“You have put your team frock in?”
“Really?”
“Go fetch it," he sighed.
“Gotcha! Its already in there.” I crowed.

 
© Maddy Bell 11.03.2019