"Ready guys?” Dieter asked as we fiddled with mitts, shoes and helmets in the hotel car park.

That got the usual round of grunts and non committal body language.

"I'll take that as yes, okay, steady ride, Gaby lead off please.”
“’Kay,” I agreed snapping my foot onto the pedal.

 
"Tha camper van’s pretty canny like,” Josh mentioned.
"Not bad,” I agreed.

The Toon got to ride with me by default, Mand was rabbiting with Tali, Ron with Gret when we set off.

"Spoke to Jamie the other day.”
"Yeah? He all right?”
"Aye, apparently he’s got an invite from BC to do a training camp again.”
"Really? I've not heard anything.”
"Me either man,” he advised.
"You don’t think we’ve been dropped?”
"Can’t see why like.”
"Rails!” I shouted in warning as we approached Altenahr’s level crossing.
We clattered across before I continued, "I'll give Cav a call, he always seems to know what’s going on.”
"Aye, not much gets past him like. So what’s the crack today like?”
"Crack?”
"Come on man, there’s more to this ‘warm up’ than peace and quiet.”

Thanks Dad.

"No idea,” I fibbed, “guess Dad wants everyone prepared for the circuit.”
"Well this is hardly that testing man.”
"It climbs all the way to the circuit,” I advised, “gets steeper after Adenau.”
"Hmm.”
"So, you an’ Tal?” I enquired to change the subject.

 
We kept a steady talking pace rotating at about kilometre intervals, Dieter a constant presence about twenty metres behind providing a degree of traffic protection. I know I occasionally ride with the senior squad but this morning, a relaxed ride with my peers, well maybe Dad’s relaxation line wasn’t just a bluff. From Adenau there’s a choice of three routes up to the circuit, Hohe Acht, Quiddelbach or Haus Brigitte.
Of these, the first climbs highest, Quiddelbach the longest and the last, well it’s the shortest but steepest option and today's choice.

"So where’s this climb?” Gret, miss flatland herself requested as we crossed inside the circuit at Breidscheid.
"You’ll see,” Ron advised her riding partner.

The road was of course ramping up a bit more but not enough to stop conversation – yet.

"Next left,” I called out.
"Bum,” Mand muttered, recognising which route we were taking.

We made the turn towards Herschbroich where the real climb gets going – I'm sparing them the shorter and even steeper climb avoiding the village. The exchange of words quickly decreased as the grade started to bite, Josh gave me a querying look. There was no disguising the continuing ascent, I indicated back to Josh with a hand signal that it’d get steeper after the next bend.

Although I was the first to move onto the hoods, everyone is sufficiently experienced that all six of us rose as one when things got more serious. The minibus was already complaining, let’s face it, it wasn’t built for crawling up steep inclines at ten kph. Of course, whilst we weren’t racing it was now every girl and Josh for themselves, our tight formation quickly becoming a straggle of effort.

 
I tried to keep a steady pace out of the village, my breathing more laboured of course but not as much as some of my companions. The road dragged up into the trees before any kind of respite allowed any relaxation. Josh, despite his size, doggedly half wheeled me and a look behind revealed Mand and Ron together a few lengths back but the others, well the minibus was barely in sight.

Looks like Dad’s fears have some grounds.

"Much, huh, further man?”
I shook my head, “’Nother steep bit then it evens out.”
"Should we wait like?”
"Over the ramp,” I suggested.

Ever tried climbing at someone else's slower speed? It’s excruciating, better to go at your own pace and wait later. Josh nodded in agreement before hitting the bottle.

 
We watched Tali and Gret on the ramp, neither were in distress, in fact they seemed to be having a conversation.

"Come on you two,” Ron chivvied.
"It’s not a race,” Tal called back.
"But we do have to get to one like,” Josh allowed under his breath.
"I heard that, Josh Waugh,” his girlfriend advised as she and Gret joined us.
"How much further,” Gret queried as we got going again.
"Five maybe,” I guessed.

The remainder of the ride, whilst generally heading skyward lacked anything of serious gradient, the handicap rather than being physical became mobile, riders in groups and singly using the old Nürburg village road for their own pre race warm ups.

 
"Not bad,” Dad allowed checking his watch as we pulled up at the Team Apollinaris compound, "Any problems?”
“Gab brought us up Herschbroich,” Mand moaned.

Dad gave me a questioning look.

"It’s the shortest way,” I told him in my defence.
"Okay, get yourselves a drink, go get signed on, the seniors are in the Hymer once they're done we’ll talk tactics okay?”

Two teams, several vehicles, support staff, a couple of easy ups – the Apollinaris camp certainly looked impressive. The encampment was certainly getting some attention, the more so with the stack of free water in front of the camper. Yeah, Gerolsteiner might’ve stolen the sponsorship rights but Apollinaris are clearly not taking it lying down.

 
"Right, find yourself seats,” Dad instructed as we climbed into the camper fifteen minutes later.

Everyone found seats, our adult support team wedging themselves in behind.

"Okay, this is a biggy, guys, the sponsors are looking for a result today so we need to use everything at our disposal, we can’t be experimental like Celle but neither do we want to ride as predictably as Maastricht.”
"Doesn’t leave much like,” Josh opined.
"But not without anything,” Dad observed. "I'm sure you all realise there was more to this morning’s ride than just getting you warmed up, I needed some last minute information. Greta, Tali, you dropped behind on the climb...”
"We were taking it easy,” Tali offered.
"I'm not pointing fingers,” Dad interjected, "Today, there’re two climbs tougher than that each lap.”
"Bum,” Ron mentioned.
"As you say, Ron so here’s what we’re going to do...”

 
"And lastly local favourites Team Apollinaris including our series leader and Weltmeisterin, Gaby Bond!” today's MC had been waxing lyrical for nearly ten minutes. Rather ironic really, half of us are actually English and only two of us actually live in the Eifel.
"Come on,” Gret mumbled.
"Patience,” I proposed as I grinned and waved at the small crowd watching and awaiting the start of the Nürburgring Radfest Jungern Radrennen.

Being on a closed circuit, a lot of the usual Commisaire’s waffle wasn’t needed so other than instructions regarding feeds and the neutral service there wasn’t much for him to detain us with.

BANG!

And we’re off, first for a lap of the five kilometre Grand Prix circuit.

 
The neutral zone was about as short as is allowed and the first attack started as soon as the green flag dropped. Yeah, we’ve got seventy quite hilly kilometres to go and a two pronged attack has been launched, Gret on one side of the track, Tali the other. Hope you’re right about this, Dad.

Half the field were still playing with gears and pedals and of the rest that spotted their departure confusion reigned. The consensus seemed to be one of ‘only girls’, more than a bit condescending but one day they might learn to not take us so lightly, anyhow it did mean the reply was muted. The GP circuit, whilst not flat isn’t hugely undulating either and the girls soon came together to make good some open road.

"Well that went well,” Mand observed.
"Long way to go,” I noted.

 
We stayed fairly tight in the peloton, Josh riding herd, watching out for any chase but as we made our way through the Eifel countryside there was no indication of any enthusiasm to bring them back any time soon. Pretty much as Dad predicted – how does he do it? that’s not to say we were hanging about, far from it but you need more than just speed to catch a breakaway.

I've never been on the circuit before and the size and terrain mean that apart from the GP circuit and the adjoining Döttinger Höhe straight you can only see a few tiny bits of the track. As a result I had no idea where we were on the circuit until we passed through Breidscheid and started the Hohe Acht climb, all five K of it. No one was chasing the escapees, the otherwise almost intact peloton instead held a steady pace.

I checked my confederates, Josh purring along, Roni sat at his shoulder and Mand with her newfound climbing confidence spinning nonchalantly to my left. Geez, we’re in danger of looking professional here! This climb is the gamble, if this lot decide to get enthusiastic it could kill Dad’s plan but if the girls get over the summit – well I guess it’s plan B.

 
The day was developing some heat but thankfully the twisty nature of the circuit and plenty of surrounding foliage meant that despite it nearing noon it hadn’t yet got too unpleasant. Things remained steady as we gained metres, well okay there was more enthusiasm on the steeper ramps, I doubt race cars even change gear but human power means more effort is needed. A bit of excitement occurred as the summit came into view but it was less about chasing the leaders than some macho getting to the top first stuff.

Off the other side the pace quickly picked up stringing the bunch into a multi coloured shoelace of whirring legs. we’d been split up on the final assault but I found a familiar wheel to sit on, Paul Innerthausen. Whoever was on the front was certainly giving it some but as soon as we hit the long drag of the Höhe things calmed down a bit.

 
"Bondt.”
"Paul,” I acknowledged.
"Thought it’d be you up the road.”
"Not likely, these hills are brutal.”
"I thought you were the Bergmeisterin.”
"If you say so, on your own?”
"Might as well be, Sep always rides for Sep and I'm hardly the mountain goat.”
"Some things never change,” I agreed.
"Looks like your friends have got away clean.”
"Possibly, it’s a long way yet.”
"Yeah.”

I tried to get a look up the track but wherever Gret and Tal are, they aren’t in direct sight.

 
"What you reckon, man?” Josh asked.
"He’ll be in.”
"Next lap then.”
"Yep,” I agreed, "Next lap.”
 
Maddy Bell © 09.03.17