Gaby Book 25 Only Five Minutes by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2019 Madeline Bell After all the excitement of the last few weeks culminating in the trip to Austria, surely Gaby can get back to some sort of 'normal'? Well it wouldn't be Gaby if it was that simple would it?

 
My hand snaked out and gave the alarm a warning thump, six o'clock and I'm not even going to college. So why on earth didn't I switch the alarm off, you can be such a ditz sometimes Gaby Bond! I might not be a morning person but once I'm awake, thats it, I have to get up even if I catch forty winks later.

Even at this ungodly hour of the day Dad's usually up before me unlike Mum who could sleep for England, I could hear him outside already, clearing snow from the drive. I lay there for a moment collecting my thoughts and deciding on todays curriculum. There's the room cleaning which I suppose I ought to do but what else – ooo, I know, I'll go see Bern and Drea.

Hmm, how do I get there though, I don't think Dad or Mum would be keen on running taxi, the bus from Ahrbrück station runs at daft times and its too far to walk. Bike? Well its no fun on a road bike if its at all icy, ditto the Schauff which leaves one of my cross bikes – orrrr my Klein! Oh yeah, she shoots, she scores, I can take the track up from Rech so I won't have much distance on the road.

Decision made I leapt, well metaphorically, into action, morning ablutions then pulling on full winter bike kit – not eveything obviously, i've not had breakfast yet. I'm never sure if dressing for the bike this time of year is good or bad but i've got all the options to choose from. It didn't take me long to pull on my thermal bib tights, one of my ski base layers, sports bra and tube socks and topped it off with a short sleeved Apollinaris race jersey.
I grabbed my thermal jacket, head warmer and ski gloves then headed down from the eyrie for breakfast.
 
"There anything left in the pot?” Dad enquired as I slathered Nuttela® onto another slice of toast.
"Should be, i've only had one cup.”
"Excellent, its cold enough to freeze the bits off a penguin out there.”
"Really?”
"Well its certainly a bit chilly,” he allowed as he helped himself to a mug of coffee. "So what are you up to all dressed up?”
"I er thought i'd take the mountain bike out for a quick spin?”
"What about your bedroom?”
"I'll do that when I get back,” I proposed.
"Hmm, okay, the tyres probably want a bit of air,” he mused, "Might be an idea to keep off the roads, everywhere is like glass this morning.”
"That was the general idea,” I agreed around a mouthful of chocolate spread covered bread.
"And be careful, we can do without any broken bones before the training camp.”
"Yes Dad.”
"I mean it Gaby, we don't want any repeat of the last time you and two wheels met snow.”
"It wasn't my fault,” I moaned.
"No one said it was, just be careful, please? And make sure you've got your Handy.”
 
It was rolling on quarter to eight by the time I got down to the basement otherwise known as the 'bike cave'. Dad had returned to his ice chipping and snow clearing but he had got the Klein down for me and given the compressor was still gurgling to itself, the air thing had been done too. Helmet on, ski goggles pulled into place, then lastly gloves added before I pushed the multi-coloured Klein out into the early morning gloom.

Dad might've been clearing the drive but it still looked a bit dodgy so I elected to walk out to the road before mounting up.

"You off?” Pater asked needlessly when I reached where he was shovelling white stuff.
"Well duh!”
"Don't be gone all day or your mother will have my guts.”
"I won't.”
"I didn't put a lot of air in the tyres, you should get a good grippy footprint with those tyres.”
“'kay.”
"You got everything?”
"Yup,” I patted my back pack, "All in here.”
"Which way are you going?”
"Thought i'd look at the trails behind Rech?”
"Okay, enjoy yourself and...”
I interrupted him, "I'll be careful.”
 
It felt more than a bit weird as I set off up the lane, its been ages since I last rode any bike without drop handlebars, unless you count the 'artistic' iron. I did a quick flick through the gears, Dad did upgrade it from twenty four to twenty seven gears last year so its not quite the dinosaur it was when Caro gave it to me. To be honest, for how much I use it even that's a bit extravagant. It's not just the gears of course, the whole riding dynamic is different and with the 'bobbing' of the suspension every time you get out of the saddle, a bit weird.

When I got to the main road that was at least clear so for the short distance to the turn down into the old village I gave it some welly. Well sort of, between the forks and the wide, soft tyres it was a bit like riding through treacle, the tyre tread making a loud ripping noise as it was torn from the tarmac. I took it a whole lot more carefully as I bounced over the railway tracks and navigated the less than perfect lane to the Schloss and beyond onto the lane into the forest.

The snow wasn't deep, maybe five centimetres, once past the last couple of houses it was only marred by what I think was a set of deer prints, well I hope its deer, Max was on about some wild boar being spotted around about here a few weeks ago. The degree of frost actually made it easier to ride, keeping the snow crisp and firm under my wheels even as I passed the Rech de-limit sign. Thats a joke, there might be a bit of local traffic using this lane but it doesn't go anywhere, well not really so why you need a name board on it is beyond me.
 
Its amazing how different everything looks with a coating of white stuff, i've walked up here with Max a few times, as far as the barbeque pit, but the trees have always had leaves on and the trail is pretty obvious. I just hope I get on the right trail to go up to Staffel, i've only ever been all the way through once and that was coming down. I'd been going for almost fifteen minutes and was starting to think i'd gone wrong when I spotted the fire pit, well the small shelter next to it, about a hundred metres further on.

I was nearly ejected from my seat twice before I reached it though, hitting a couple of branches hidden under the snow – its not that I didn't see them, rather that I misjudged their size. Why did I get caught a second time? Well it was literally just a couple of metres past the first one and I was barely back in control before my front wheel hit it! That could've been quite nasty if i'd been going faster, not that the conditions really allowed you to get much above ten kph.

A short breather was in order so I propped the Klein against one of the picnic tables, brushed the snow from the bench and sat myself down. My backpack has one of those bladder things in it so at least the water was warmed a little by being on my back. I took a decent pull of liquid then just sat there listening to the silence.

Well not really silent, without my breathing and the noises made by the Klein a whole plethora of noise was evident, a bit of bird twitter, was that a woodpecker plus a variety of other noise which I couldn't readily identify, what sounded like shuffling or branches moving – who knows? Anyhow, once I got my breath back I prepared to continue riding and spotted a finger post a few metres further up the trail.
 
The main trail continued fairly level through the trees but the post suggested that Staffel was five point four kilometres along what looked to be no more than an animal track. Is this right? I don't remember it being like this when we came the other way but of course everything looks different today. Oh well, its the way it points for where I'm headed, it has to be the way.

It was pretty clear just five minutes later that this was not the trail that the Bond's had descended, it was just too narrow and twisty. Maybe a more cautious person would've turned around to find the right track but Gaby, in the spirit of all great explorers, decided to push on. In short order, quite literally as a more open glade had attracted a deeper coating of white stuff which was covering all manner of hazzards, one of which tipped her off the Klein.

She picked herself up and after checking her steed for damage, pushed her way towards some, hopefully more rideable trail. The problem now was that it wasn't clear exactly where the path was beyond the snow field, Stopping, she surveyed her options, behind her own wheel and foot prints were quite clear but there wasn't anything to guide her choice ahead of her.

Or was there? On the higher ground about ten metres to her right the snow was a bit churned up, the ground below exposed in several places, whoever or whatever had been there must've got here on a path, right? Gab hauled the bike around to face the disturbed ground and started pushing up the slight slope, a job not made any easier by the unseen obstacles under the white stuff.

She was so intent on hauling herself and the bike up the rise that missed not one but two clues that she was not alone in the clearing, the cloud of steam and the breathless snuffling noises. It would be hard to say who was the more surprised, Gab or the boar, when she almost walked right into the beast,

"Aargh!”

Grunt!

"Oh sugar, this is not good,” she muttered to herself.

Grunt! Grunt!

"What the hell do I do now?”

Of course she had a flashback to that day, best part of three years ago, when Ron had that incident with the boar during that race. Ron had come off decidedly second best in that encounter, some nasty gouges and a damaged bike, it was almopst enough to put you off sausages. And here she was, face to face with two hundred kilos of surprised and ugly porcine.

"Er nice piggy, I'll er just go back this way.”

By the beasts grunting and body language, it didn't like that idea too much, at least it appeared to be on its own. The two of them stood regarding each other in a potentially deadly Mexican stand off.

"Okay, so I guess I'll stay here for a bit,” Gab observed under her breath.

They stood like this for a good ten minutes before a distance sound caught the big pig's attention.

'Is that someone coming?'

Woof!
'Well that was definitely a dog and it sounds like its coming this way.'
Woof, woof!
Wroof!
'Or two even.'

Grunt.

The boar was clearly in a quandry, stare this strange beast down or retreat from a potential encounter with the wolf things.

Grunt, grunt grunt!

This was clearly addressed towards Gaby before the beast turned on its heel and trotted off into the woods. She let out a big breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and just stood there staring at where the animal had now disappeared. Well that was something she didn't want to repeat.
 
A couple of minutes later two big dogs, they looked like Rottweilers, bounded into the clearing and straight toward her. She'd avoided being gored to death, was she now going to be ripped apart by ravening hounds? Stand still, don't let them know you're afraid, wasn't that the advice, but she was, each dog would best her on the scales, if they attacked she'd not stand a chance.

There was a whistle, then another before she heard 'Kurt, Axel, what've you found?'
"Eek!”

The dogs came up to her but after a quick sniff their interest was taken by the more interesting odours of the boar.

Wroof!

"Leave the girl alone boys!” a voice attached to an older man ordered, "You okay miss?”
"Er fine, they, er, just surprised me.”
"They can get a bit boisterous when they get on a trail, its usually some squirrel they've run to ground. What are you two so excited for?”
"There was a boar here, I think your dogs frightened it off.”
"You saw it?” the chap queried.
"Rather too closely, I don't know what would've happened if your dogs hadn't come when they did.”
"I know they've been seen up at the Ring but I didn't realise they were around here, you lost?”
"Er kind of, I'm trying to get up to Staffel and I sort of lost the trail?”
"You've come up from the picnic ground?”
"Er yeah.”
"You turned too soon.”
"The post said to come this way.”
"Not your fault, i've told Johannes its in the wrong place more than once but does he listen?”
"So I have to go all the way back?”
"You could but there's a trail across to the main track, just to the left of that Holly bush, probably best if you push that thing though.”
"Thanks.”
"No problem, now where have tfose dogs got to, Axel! Kurt! Where are you?”

Well my guess is chasing after the pig.
 
I hauled the bike back down the slope and across to the Hollly tree, the path was fairly obvious but if anything, narrower than the one which brought me here. I know he said to push the bike but you have to try riding don't you? Well that experiment lasted about twenty metres to where the way squeezed through a gap that my handlebars were too wide for.

It wasn't that far to the main trail but by the time i'd pushed and slithered my way there i'd added another fifteen minutes to my ride. Once I got to the roadway I recognised it almost straight away and even with its dusting of snow it was quite rideable. Funny though, I'm sure it was steeper coming down.
 
There was a z bend bracketing a bridge then a long right hand bend curved away and up, and up, and up. I started dropping through the gears, my indicator for changing being a loss of traction on the snow covered surface. You can usually winch yourself up pretty much anything with MTB gears but I ran out of gears and traction well before the lane lost any of its gradient.

I had a rather undignified and awkward dismount episode then started heaving the bike upwards – not that pushing was any easier as I struggled for my footing more than a few times. Eventually it eased to a more restrained five or six percent and I finally got some two wheeled motion again. It was only another half kilometre before I broke out of the woodland into open fields all currently a uniform white.

The air was crisper out here, the sun was trying to break through but the temperature was low enough for each laboured breath to produce a cloud of vapour. I spotted a few rag tag buildings, then a few more, is that the church? Then after a kink in the track between two scrappy bits of drystone wall and some skeletal trees I spotted what had to be the Preiser's farm.
 
I wasn't the first to use the lane into the farm, the snow was compressed and quite rutted in places, the former not an issue but the latter no fun to navigate on a bike. After a bit of cycle ballet I finally made it into the yard and gratefully pulled up by the farmhouse door which, even today, was open. I parked the Klein and poked my head inside.

"Hello, anyone at home?”
I could hear some mumbling from the kitchen before a voice replied, "Coming.”

A moment later the inner door opened and Bernie bustled out looking every bit the farmers wife, wellies, hacking jacket, the lot.

"Gaby! What are you doing here?”
"Thought i'd ride up to see my girls.”
"You must be freezing, you should've come straight in.”
"Any chance of a cuppa?”
"Of course, where are my manners, get yourself inside.”

She ushered me inside after i'd kicked my boots clear of most of the accumulated snow and ice.

"I'm not keeping you from anything?”
"Only the poultry, they'll survive for a few minutes, come on in.”

I went through into the kitchen where the owner of the second voice was revealled.

"This is Marty's cousin,” Bern started, "Tally this is Gab.”
Tally's ears perked up, "The one who birthed Drea?”
"Guilty as charged,” I sighed, "Gaby Bond, nice to meet you.”
"And you, Bernie has told me so much about you.”
"I didn't know Mart had any cousins?”
"We live over near Bayreuth so we don't visit very often but when we heard there was a new kinder in the family we just had to come.”
 
© Maddy Bell 30.07.2019