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*Chapter 32*

Mountain Goat

 
 
We made the next turn, away in the distance I imagined I could see the railway bridge with the turn just beyond except this time around we weren’t making that turn. The rotation remained – for now at least, clearly the others were expecting a move from yours truly. Go too soon and they’ll make minced Gaby of me, no it’s a waiting game, for now at least.

I checked that everything was working, feet clicked in firmly; both tyres look hard, gears seem to be working okay, yup I’m ready for action. We dipped under the bridge and Stuttgart lost patience and made a move, ha, takes some pressure off me at least. Of course the others hardly wanted to work with me to bring him back but neither did they want him getting away!

Of course I hardly wanted to do too much at this stage, I made my contribution, a long out of the saddle effort the others had to match. There were still a few metres of clear when we passed the turn but our momentum had us closing rapidly on the escapee. The road started to bobble about a bit now; we had less than ten to go now, time to divest some weight.

A last pull on my bidon emptied that; my fellow breakaway companions made similar preparations, any semblance of organisation now forgotten. The speed faltered a little as we entered city streets, our route making a couple of turns before a sharp right put us on a very ornamental avenue.

“Sugar,” someone muttered causing me to look up ahead.

My eyes were drawn upward and up, dominating the skyline was a huge tower with some figure on top, Herkules I’m guessing. Between it and us we have something like two kilometres and a climb, a climb of some significance. Just have to pick my moment I guess.

The four of us tracked along the ornamental drive, past a series of impressive buildings, maybe some sort of palace before the road converged to pass through a gateway into an ornamental park. What gradient there had been so far was supplanted by a speed sapping increase in percentage. Two out of three of my companions still looked comfortable enough, the other resorting to short out of saddle efforts to stay in contention.

Our route now started to wind about a bit as we closed on the foot of the climb proper. We were climbing steadily but easily through the parkland, the smooth roadway masking our effort somewhat. The tower was lost to sight now as we closed on the base of the precipice it stands on.

With a sudden acceleration the lead car shot ahead, what’s that about? By now our weak link was pretty much constantly out of the saddle at the back of our group. A lazy hairpin gave a view back down the park, we had maybe a couple of minutes lead over the main peloton already in the parkland, any slip up and even at this stage they could be on us. A few metres ahead the lead car was parked, a motorbike by its side, interesting.

A few roadside observers cheered us past then as we approached the car the motorcycle set off, apparently our new escort but why? We entered what looked like a turning area, the road apparently ending however the bike headed off towards the top corner and I realised this might be my chance. I moved wide of the others, which gave me a momentary advantage in a view of the path we were headed for.

Sugar, it didn’t just narrow but it ramps up and the smooth tarmac looks, well less smooth! Come on, Drew, confidence, let’s do it. Up on the pedals, I hit the gas; by the time I reached the narrow defile I had some decent momentum. I chased the motorbike out of the saddle past the one to go board, the sound of pursuit still in my ears.

Although it’s been dry most of the day, the trees and shaded position ensured that the roadway was quite slick in places, a dab of wheel spin quickly reseating me. It wasn’t so much that the surface was potholed, there were a few, no it’s the unevenness that you have to fight. A few more bods stood by the roadside now giving some encouragement through the turns.

The escort’s engine was straining at times as we climbed through a series of hairpins, my pursuers were still only a few metres in arrears, I need to get more of a gap. Another board, five hundred metres to go, well all or nothing I guess. Ahead is another hairpin, the road surface looks reasonably smooth too, yup, all or nothing it is.

I watched the motorbike accelerate through the corner and seconds later did the same. The road curled to the right some and I tracked up the drainage channel there, out of the saddle giving my all. A bit more of a kick increased the burn in my thighs then a sharper but non-hairpin right-hander gave me a view out, wow, I’m nearly up to the tower!

Spectators were in more abundance up here as I started my final sprint effort, the first signs of oxygen deficit clouding my vision.

“Come on, Drew!”

“Go girl!”

“Up, up, up!”

My knees started to buckle but the grade was easing and ahead I could see a funnel of supporters and the ‘Finis’ banner. I hit the top and couldn’t help myself looking behind, no one close, yay! Sitting up I straightened my jersey before the short descent to the line, I could afford to freewheel now, my first proper road victory in over two months.

Angela caught me after the line, just as well, my legs were like jelly! I was too busy trying to breathe to take any note of my pursuers arriving in equally or perhaps more distress. At some point Dad arrived which resulted in me being bodily lifted from my steed and sat on the ground.
 
 

“And in first place and winner of the Jüngere League, Drew Bond, Team Apollinaris!”

The assembled crowd cheered and clapped as I was presented with the winner’s laurels, well actually a trophy nearly as tall as me! Tali was our next rider in which earnt her the girl’s prize ahead of Roni, Gret was in close attendance. Mand got to the bottom of the climb before blowing, not bad all things considered.

“Another presentation to attend,” Dad noted as we walked back to the Apollinaris pit area.

“It’s only two,” I mentioned, “where is it?”

“They move it about,” Roni put in, I think it was Munich last year.”

“You might have something from the Rhein Eiffel series too.” Dad advised.

“Busy social calendar, Gab,” Manda chortled.

“We eating?” I enquired.

“It’s a stomach on legs,” Tali stated.

“Mountain Goat,” Gret suggested, “she eats anything!”

“Huh!”

“Girls,” Dad broke in, “quicker you’re changed, quicker we eat.”

We ended up in the Hotel place in Ehlen that we passed during the race, I say ended up, Dad had obviously arranged it beforehand as they were expecting us despite seeming to be closed. As is usual after a race I’d’ve eaten a scabby dog but better fare was at hand which saved the local canines! The Ehlener Poststuben had some interesting stuff on the menu not just your usual schnitzel and chips.

“So what’s this Kalb huff steak mit get rock net?” Mand queried,

“Come again?”

“Third one down.”

“Oh I see, that’s like veal with cranberries, flat noodles and salad,” I translated.

“Oh, so what are you guys having?”

“I’m gonna be boring,” Tali offered, “I’m gonna have the Schnitzel with pink cabbage and fried potato.”

“Where’s that?”

“One from the bottom,” Gret pointed it out on Mand’s menu.

“Well I’m having lasagne,” Ron told us, “just above the schnitzel, Mand.”

I know what I fancied, the steak in a cherry pepper sauce with apple chutney in a hazelnut pancake with cream and noodles, Dad’d go ape though, it’s twenty Euros!

“Bet Gab has the steak,” Gret suggested.

“So happens I’m gonna have the pork with apple mustard and risotto.” I riposted.

“That’s what I’ll have too,” Mand advised I think mostly because she recognised some of it!

“You lot ready to order?” Dad enquired.
 
 

“Are all the races as hard as that?” Mand asked while we waited for the food to arrive.

“You’re in the big league now,” I supplied.

“What the munchkin means is that there’s no easy rides in the league events,” Gret supplied, “the smaller races are probably more like you’re used to in England from what Josh says.”

“Munchkin?”

Gret blew a raspberry that caused the others to laugh, oh well; I’ve been called worse.

“You did really well today,” Ron stated.

“But I got blown out the back,” Mand moaned.

“After a hundred K.” Tal pointed out.

“I did better in Switzerland,” she sighed.

“That was different,” I put in, “one day races are always more intense, well that’s what Mum says.”

“You guys didn’t get dropped.”

“We’ve been doing these all year, you’ll learn,” Ron encouraged.

“You wouldn’t be here if Dad didn’t think you were up to it,” I observed.

“I guess.”

 
 
The food arrived and very good it was too, Tali’s Bratkartoffeln looked better than the risotto though. There were five clean plates when we’d finished so I guess everyone enjoyed it, maybe it was just post race hunger but I reckon the food was above average. Dad got our attention by rapping a spoon on the table.

“Okay everyone, I know we’ll be getting together in December but I need to put a few things out there. It’s been quite a season, well you were there so you know but I have to say that back in January I wasn’t expecting the results we’ve had. Hopefully next year we can continue in winning mode, I’m working on George to increase our budget, I’d like to recruit a couple more riders as well as do more races as a team not just the League.

I’ll be keeping in touch with you all, Tali, I’ll be coming up to see you and your parents next month and I’ll be over in Cottbus too. I know it sometimes seems that everything is over in the Rheinland but you aren’t forgotten and I want to get the team riding more widely across the country. Gret, your Dad says you want to give the track a try?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“What about you, Tali?”

“Not got a bike like.”

“If you did have?”

“Could give it a go I guess.”

“Leave it with me then, I’ll see what I can sort out. Any questions?”

“You think I might try cross like Gab?” Roni queried.

“I’m sure there’ll be an opportunity, what about you Amanda, anything you want to ask?”

“Not really, I’m just the new girl.”

“Well don’t be shy of asking, I’m sure you all talk, I know Gaby and Ron do – a lot,” Angela snorted into her coffee, ”the better you know each other the better you work together. So, you guys heading north need to get off, I’ll talk to everyone during the week.”
 
 

“I thought you guys all rode the same races,” Mand mentioned after we’d said our farewells and started back towards the Rhein.

“Only about once a month usually,” I supplied.

“Me and Gab ride together most times, it’ll be a help having you as well,” Ron noted.

“We don’t do so bad,” I put in.

“Yeah but an extra bod’ll help me when you go on one of your madcap escapes.”

“Me? Mad?”

The replying chuckles from the other occupants of the Mercedes provided enough answer to that one!

Maddy Bell © 18.12.2014