Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Tell you what,” I started as we returned to our steeds, "I'll stay here and catch you on the way back.”
"Not happening,” Dad told me.
"Nice try Hen,” Josh added giving me a friendly pat on the head.

Well a girl's gotta try right? Dad had a quick conflab with Erika before we threaded our way back down to the TF-23 road from where we started the long descent that would take us out to the coast for our lunch rendezvous. Unlike the stuff we've already ridden, this route took us quickly out of the desert and we were soon dropping through the first village we've seen since, well, before we did that nice downhill.

The road was fairly busy with bikes, cars and tourist buses, doing anything beyond negotiating it all safely wasn't on the cards. Even so, there were a few nice sweepy bits before things flattened out a bit and the fields once more hemmed the tarmac closely.

"This is the road that the Challenge uses,”
"Eh?”
"Thursday?” Tina emphasised.
"Oh right, thought we were riding it after lunch?”
"And how do we get to lunch?” Tina posed.

Okay, I hadn't really given it any thought.

"It doesn't seem too bad.”
"In a downhill sort of way,” Roni opined from behind.

Of course the road then started to descend through a series of turns that would make a bowl of spaghetti look straight, from tight hairpins to wide sweeping corners seemingly interspersed at random. It was good fun with each of us taking turns at point and soon we were entering a small town, the name, Granadilla de Abona, being much grander than the square block concrete apartment blocks deserve. We spotted the others sat outside a bar – restaurant place, I guess this is lunch.
 

Granadilla de Abona is no resort, unless you are staying there there's nothing to bring you here for a visit other than the road that we've just come down from Mount Teide. Lunch was Paella but lacking the usual shellfish and chorizo, instead they were liberally replaced by chicken and some sort of smoked fish. It could've been a bit bland but the vegetable element added some extra colour and the flat bread was laced with black olives – not only that but it arrived at our tables on these huge pan things so we could have our fill.

Apparently, the rest of the team had missed our meandering first climb, well not entirely but they had used a shorter route which had put them some way ahead of us. Indeed they didn't stop for coffee until that village we came through and then they had done a different descent with a bit of a loop to get to our lunch venue, they'd still beaten us but only by about ten minutes.

"Ladies, gentlemen,” George interrupted our post food chatter, "If I can have your attention.”

We quieted down and rearranged our seating a bit so we could all see the Boss.

"So, this afternoon. The first order is to give our grimpeurs some practice for Thursday so we'll do a short loop from here to warm up before giving them their heads up to Teide. Tina, Gaby, one hundred percent please, on Thursday the best riders will take about one hour fifteen, the frauen maybe thirty longer. So there is your target, its only twenty five kilometres, there are no grades over 10 percent so you won't be able to rely on getting advantage that way. Questions?”
"Can we all join in?” Mum queried.
"Be my guest,” George returned, "Make it as difficult as you can for Tina and your daughter.

I didn't like the feral grin that appeared on several faces, looks like I'm gonna have to work for my supper.
 
"You alright kiddo?” Dad asked, catching me as I returned from the ablutions.
"Bit nervous,” I admitted.
"Better that than over confident and don't worry about leaving anything in the tank to ride back, you and Tina get to drive back.”
"Kewl!”
"Keep that to yourself, George wants to see how everyone responds.”
“'kay, Mum's the word,” I agreed, "Talkng of which, what is it with her today?”
"She's very competitive and I think she wants to prove to George that she's worth her salary.”
“'course she is.”
"Things aren't always black and white Gab.”
"What do you mean?”
"Not now kiddo,” he advised, "You just concentrate on getting to the top first eh?”
I gave a shrug, "I'll try.”
He gave me a one armed hug, "Thats all we can ask.”
 
George's 'little loop' was a good ten kilometres and a chunk of that was of the upwards variety. I hid myself at the back, time for heroics will come soon enough. I watched Mum and the others, yeah, she's the elder stateswoman now Maria has 'retired', evidence that me, her seventeen year old daughter is here but she can still mix it with the younger girls, right? Back when I started getting into racing bikes it was always my dream to be riding with Mum but I always thought it would be Drew doing the riding, instead the curveball of life means I'm a fully functioning young woman so if that can change, I guess Mum's position can change too.

It was fun coming down before lunch, less so going up. Right from the get go you are climbing, not steeply but enough to know its uphill, and its not one steady grade either so getting into an early rhythm is nigh on impossible. It was only about a kilometre but I'm pretty sure that on Thursday, it'll be brutal, the good news was that it then eased off to a much nicer incline which even the flatlanders could cope with.

"How you wanna play this Hen?” Josh asked in low tones.

How do I? For today, with nothing at stake, I could sit in and watch, just react but come the race that's probably not gonna work, no, I, we, actually need a game plan. Dad's usually the tactician but so far he's kept schtum on the matter so I guess I need to come up with a way forward. The race is mixed, some top male pro riders will be taking part and some talented amateurs too, one things for sure, they're not going to be twiddling their thumbs waiting for some action.

"You alright dialing it up?”
"Ah guess so, eleven?”
"Twelve if you've got it.”

No, that's not the sprocket or gear but our code for effort level, that mocumentary has a lot to answer for! Josh gave me a wink and moved away as I took a sip from my bottle. Me and Josh go back a long way, we work very well as a team, its just a pity that this is the last year we'll be able to do that – well unless Josh converts to the dark side, like that'd happen, not.

We were jiggling along at a steady pace, Mum sat third wheel, Manda and Erika setting the steady pace, Tina behind her with the rest of us gathered behind. As Josh moved forward, I saw Daz nod before slipping out behind the Toon. Nice one Josh.

The lads went around the leading duo already going a couple of Klicks quicker which caused an immediate reaction from both Tina and Bond senior. Anja too, upped her efforts which saved me from having to swing past her just yet as the whole group shuffled into a new order. When Daz took over the effort, you could sense the slight relaxation of the others but instead of the pace dropping it actually went up to close on twenty five.

My pace setters started a fairly evenly matched rotation of effort which continued for a couple of kilometres which had the less able climbers strung out a bit. Sat sixth wheel I was quite comfortable but I could see that Daz was starting to tire, the couple of K above the comfort zone burning a lot of energy. I probably wasn't the only one who had picked up the signs, lets face it, the seniors have plenty of experience of stuff like this.

I kept an eye on the lead duo, something in the set of Josh's back suggested something was afoot when he relinquished point. Daz went through and the pace went up again, not much but this was going to clearly be his last input. Head down, he heaved the pedals around, the extra speed enough to stretch the elastic behind me almost to breaking point.

Of course it was never going to last long, with my computer showing seven kilometres from the start and the first hairpin cutting back above us, Daz relinquished the pace. The end was brutal, a last effort then he swung left and slumped over the bars, totally spent, dropping past us as though stood still. Now its down to Josh, yeah he's stronger, a regular power house but even so, there are limits.

 
When you watch the coverage of the big races you see this sort of thing, the trusty lieutenants giving all to protect their leaders, each taking their turn in the attritional battle with gravity until there are no more to take over the reigns. With luck the real contenders will still be there, but this is neither the pro peloton or a big race. Josh dragged us around the turn and quickly settled back into a punishing all or nothing pace setting.

What Daz's last effort had started, the hairpin turn completed, Mand lost her spot in the selection on the turn and a quick glance behind suggested the others were not going to play any further part in the assault. We might only be doing twenty five or so kph but its uphill, anyone claiming it wasn't hurting would be lying, I might not be on the front but a couple of times I could feel the burn on the steeper bits.

I've seen Josh do this stuff for several kilometres before now but ironically, today, just as the road flattened to almost level, he blew. Not as dramatically as Daz a couple of K previously but he sat up and was gone almost before the grey matter could compute what was happening. Now we are four.

 
Our speed held steady, mostly due to the lack of incline, was this the final selection? Well not if I have my way, we've still got about fifteen kilometres to go, so not even halfway but even so, if you aren't here now, you probably won't be at the front at the end. There was a mutual truce as we each tugged at bidons and took some food on board, I checked out the others, Mum and Tina both looked comfortable, Anja was the one looking a bit ragged.

Question is, what now? I'm pretty sure any move I make will be quickly shut down, Mum in particular has designs on getting one over me and Teen, Tina in turn will mark Mum like a hawk, she probably won't make her own move until the last knockings. So what about Anja, will she chase or retire from the effort and what should I do?

The answer, for now at least was to do as little as possible, it wasn't the twenty five we'd been towed along at by Josh but we were still doing low twenties. Well apart from the steeper ramps, not that they were long or that sharp an incline but they ate pace quite mercilessly. Tina and Mum were doing most of the pace setting, not that I didn't contribute, I just kept my time at the front as short as possible.

The sign as we approached Vilaflor claimed we were just shy of fourteen hundred metres so we still have seven hundred to climb and just over ten K to do it in. Whilst you can't see the road, its pretty obvious that we'll have the steeper grades in the last leg, get this far fairly fresh and you are in with a pop. I'm not sure if it was pre planned but as we steadily climbed up around the village, Anja took a flier.

Chase or not, I watched the others, Mum was poker faced in her non reaction but Tina had obviously made her decision and gave chase. Hmm. Mum wasn't showing any undue fatigue, so why didn't she chase Anja? I'm sure she's up to something.

Well whatever Mum's planning I'm gonna be there, I lost out to Teen last time due to my theatricals, today I get my revenge. The others gained about twenty metres, no more, whether they slowed or we sped up I couldn't really say but we were holding station with them as we hit the ramp to the first of three hairpins. Yeah, we've got a bunch of metres to climb so it was no surprise when the road tilted up ever more steeply through them.

Not only that but looking ahead it was clearly increasing in gradient up the mountainside. Tina was sharing the pace with Anja, I with Mum, the twenty metre gap was closing though and on one steeper than expected slope Anja almost stalled. We were almost up to her by the time she'd recovered forward motion which left Tina exposed ahead of us. The writing was on the wall, or rather the road, names were scrawled on the tarmac, you couldn't read them on the descent but our ten kph crawl upwards allowed us to read each and every one.

Anja tried to keep pace as we drew alongside but she was a spent force and soon slipped behind. As the road levelled a little after one of the steeper stretches Tina found some extra pace, by my reckoning we've still got about five kilometres to the top. The gap stretched another ten metres before Mum reacted, I was still on with my own plan, maybe Mum's is similar?

There was some horn blowing behind, then a familiar BMW passed us, I guess George wants to see us finish. A longer right hand bend brought us views across to the long left hander that looked like it took us to the top, before I knew it, Mum took off like a blue arsed wotsit. What choice did I have, she'd thrown down the gauntlet, I had to respond or it would be over.

It was earlier than I wanted but that's how the real world rolls I guess, I got out of the saddle to get back on top of my gears and gave chase. Tina's advantage was quickly eaten up by Mum, me a few metres adrift, not so far as to be out of touch, but far enough she wouldn't see my shadow. Mater led us past a muttering Fraulein Porsche, the computer suggested high teens speed and my heart knocking out over a hundred and ninety beats a minute.

Hmm, I looked ar the heart rate figure, Dad said we should max out at about two hundred and five maybe so providing I can control it I should have spare in the tank. Mum was really giving it some, we've passed a few other riders on the way up but the next few we went by as though they were stood still. I bade my time, even when the pace slowed a little, just a little farther, as we got into that next ramp.

No more time for delay, I have to go now, do or die, well that's maybe a bit over dramatic but you know what I mean, so long sucker! I stood on the pedals and heaved my fifty kilos up the road, taking a wide line to avoid alerting Mum too soon. As luck would have it, she was transitioning from saddle to stood as I drew alongside, neither one nor the other which delayed her reaction just a split second more.

It was Mum who told me to never look back, once you've committed stay committed, react to anything else if you can but stay focused on the goal. I sprinted up the slope for all my worth, is that the top there, by that car? I wrenched the pedals around with renewed fervour, come on Gabs, nearly there.

Except it wasn't, a fact I realised only as I eased slightly at the top, the road was still climbing ahead, albeit at a much reduced grade. Sugar, I crashed onto the saddle and flicked the gear paddle across a sprocket, I heard a mashing of gears behind me, damn you Mother! Back out of the saddle to get on top of the gear then back down into testing mode.

My legs were smashing around, another change of gear possibly slowed me slightly but it felt less frantic so I stayed with it. I spotted George and Petra ahead, that must really be the top, Mum still hasn't come past, should I look? Stay focused Gabrielle, stay focused. One last effort, out of the saddle, drop another sprocket as the speed increased and then , yes, made it!

 
I was vaguely aware of another bike behind me even as I gulped in air, Mum I guess, however, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a mans voice addressed me in German.

"Well done youngster.”
"Er thanks.”

We both rolled to a halt maybe a hundred metres from the summit.

"I chased you from the willage, i thought I had you but then you took off again, Alberto by the way.”
"Er Gaby Bond.”
"Ah, so the rainbow is real eh? You are the Deutche wunderkind then.”
"Er, I don't know about that,” I got out between gasps.
"Alberto chasing the ladies again!”

I looked to see who this other voice belonged to as I slipped my helmet off, another rangy young bloke wearing the same Discovery Channel strip as Alberto.

"Chasing but not catching Levi.”
"I can't believe that Conti,” he stated pulling up beside us.
"Its true, Levi Leipheimer meet Gaby Bond, the bands are genuine my American friend.”
"Nice to meet you Gaby Bond.”

That name sounds familiar, I wonder, "And you, did I meet you a couple of years ago in Atlanta, you were riding with Lance?”
"Atlanta, Atlanta, oh sure the Classic, you were watching?”
"Riding.”
"Well well done to you, so you guys on a training camp?”
"Er yeah and I'm riding the Challenge on Thursday.”
"Look out Alberto, looks like you have some competition!”
"Gaby!” a familiar voice called from up the road.
"Sounds like I'm wanted,” I sighed.
"I should wish you luck,” Alberto suggested, "But I don't want to jinx my own chances.”
"Well maybe we'll meet on the climb,” I offered.
"Gaby!”
"I think your team want you back,” Levi opined.
"Yep.”
"Nice meeting you Gaby Bond.”
"Now who's chasing the girls Lippy, come on, we still have three hours to do.”
"Have a good ride guys.”
"And you Gaby Bond,” Levi told me even as they pushed off away from the summit.
 

"So who were those guys?” Mum asked when I arrived back at the summit.
"Er, Levi and Alberto, I think they ride for Discovery.”

Hang on, Discovery, Levi called him Conti, oh sugar, he must be that Contador bloke, it was in Radsport last month about him contracting to Discovery.

"Well the first one went past me like a rocket,” Mum observed.
"He was chasing us from that village.”
"So did he catch you? I couldn't see past that coach.”
"Coach? No I was nearly stopped when he caught me.”

"Gabrielle,” George enthused, "Wunderbar!”
"Erm?”
"One hour and thirty one minutes.”
"Is that good?”
"Is that good she asks, last year the fastest man was at one nineteen, the frauen, one forty three.”
“Looks like you are in with a shot,” Mum suggested.
 

"Really?” Mand complained as everyone gathered to complete the day's activities.
"Really,” Dad confirmed.
"That's a right swizz.”
"Hey, don't blame me, it wasn't my idea,” I told her.

Tina and my motorised return to the hotel had not gone without comment, mostly from my room mate.

"Well I still think its a swizz making the rest of us ride back over that other mountain.”
"Stop griping and get riding or we'll miss dinner,” Gret suggested.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.03.2021