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.

 
We had a bit of time before dinner which meant I got time to get a call in to Max – well he gets lonely and I do have the tiny gold ring in my nostril. Another bonus was that as we were the only guests at the Hesse, Dad let us off the chore of the team frocks – I don't think anyone minds the thinking, its just that what we have are just so, I dunno, corporate?

Anyhow, dinner turned out to be a full on 'Italian' pasta buffet, the restaurant was open to the public and I got the impression a lot of our fellow diners ate here regularly. Where was I? Oh yeah, food, we've done this type of thing before of course, this one stood out though as the salad bar was brilliant and whilst it was all quite good, the lasagne was about as good as it gets, solid enough to not collapse all over the plate without being dry, and not too greasy either.

The two men did have beer but alcohol was replaced by soft drinks for the rest of us – well we need to be fresh and with it in the morning. We did retire to the bar after eating but for coffee and for the 101 on the womens 'professional' peloton from Anita and Ron. Of course, whilst the field will be something like a hundred riders strong, only a small percentage are paid full time competitors, most of the field will be made of semi professional and even a few privateer riders who have a nine to five away from the bike.

We wouldn't know exactly who would be riding but the other two full time squads, Trek Deutchland and Aldi Sud BMW will be well represented and there's a lot of talent in the second tier teams too. Race length is just over one twenty kilometres, four thirty K laps so about three and a half hours or so, the extra bit is the run into the finish. We discussed how we thought the race would go of course, apparently the women are less hot headed in their riding than the juniors we usually ride against – maybe that'll work in our favour.
 

The morning arrived quite grey with some light mist sitting over the trees that blanket most of the hills hereabouts but apart from that, it was dry and, according to Kat who'd been for a run, 'not freezing' whatever that means. It felt a bit weird pulling on the cream Apollinaris Mercedes strip instead of my rainbow banded white and equally strange seeing the same worn by Gret and Mand instead of the usual sky blue. It might be the rules but I still felt a bit cheated, I hadn't even got rainbow trim which I could wear legit, there just hadn't been time to sort that sort of stuff out.

With the bikes all on the Saab's roof, our personal belongings were stowed in the other cars and at just turned eight, Team Apollinaris departed Welliehausen for the race headquarters a few kilometres away by Hamelns 'new' townhall. The Rattenfänger Grand Prix was advertised on what looked like nearly every lamp post as we negotiated the town, a bit like we had in Switzerland the other year, clearly its a big thing locally. With our 'helpers' setting up our own mini HQ, we do at least have the Ezyup – it came strapped to the roof with the bikes, the rest of us, armed with licences headed to the signing on facility.

It might be fairly early still but there were plenty of people about, jerseys that I didn't recognise, doubly so for the wearers. Of course the Apollinaris strip is well known, the team have been a force on the German domestic scene for at least ten years and the jerseys have altered very little in that time. What was different were those wearing it, today more so than usual, we got quite a few questioning or maybe confused looks.
 

It might be a big 'national' level event but of course its the Niedersachsen region who are responsible, I actually recognised the woman supervising the sign on arrangements from previous excursions into the region.

"Next.”
"Er Bond, Apollinaris,” I offered, proffering my new licence.

Accepted protocol for allocating numbers is the previous winner or series leader gets number one, their team following in a block then its alphabetical by team and sometimes by rider name. Apollinaris and Bond combined means that we invariably wear low numbers and more often than not I seem to have numero uno pinned on my back. Tina won here last year but with her not here this time its gone to the alphabetic system, guess who is at the top of the list?

"So Bond, number one,” the woman hadn't looked up before taking my licence, simply sliding her marker across the sheet.

Her helper retrieved the set of identifiers while I scrawled my name in the box.

"Hang on, this isn't right.”

Huh? Don't say i've come all the way here for nothing, surely Dad checked before he left the Federation on Friday.

"Er how so?”
"They have your details wrong, see,” she handed the laminated card back to me.

Well I'm no expert but it looked okay to me, Gabrielle Bond, no t, date of birth twenty five February nineteen ninety, F for frau, category Espoir, team Apollinaris Mercedes. Okay the picture was a bit iffy but you could see it was me.

"Er where?”
She took the card back and peered over her glasses, "The category should be Fachfrau1 like your friend before,” she took Anita's licence back out of her tray to show me, "See, Fachfrau.”
"But I'm not, professional that is.”
"You are too old for Espoir Frau Bond.”

There was snigger from behind me, Gret.

"I'm only seventeen.”
"Its true,” Gret put in over my shoulder – well she's a lot taller than me.
"You have a grown daughter Frau Bond,” she insisted.
"I do?”
"This is Jenny's daughter,” Anita interjected having returned to see what the hold up was.
"Daughter? But she races Juniorin.”
"Usually,” I agreed, "But I got dispensation for today, see,” I pointed to the licence, "Gabrielle Bond, Jenny's my Mum.”

The woman readjusted her specs before looking from me to the licence and back again.

"I'm so sorry, you look so much like your Mutter, I just saw Bond and expected it to be her.”
"So the licence is okay?” Anita asked.
Another look at the card, "Yes, oh you haven't signed it.”
"Can I do that now?”
"Its not strictly allowed.”
"You know who she is,” Anita pointed out.
"Well okay.”
"I'd best do mine,” Gret mumbled behind me, "Got a pen?”

I'm not sure who should be most upset, me or Mum, we might look quite similar but I'm the runt of the family, both Mum and my sister tower over me by more than ten centimetres for a start.
 

"Well you have to admit, it was quite funny,” Gret opined as we headed back to where Team Apollinaris now had bikes ready on turbos, whilst we'd only brought one, Gret had her own and there had been three team models in Anita's car.

"All sorted?” Dad enquired.
"Except the woman doing signing thought I was Mum.”
"How come?”
"She just heard Bond and assumed Dave,” Neet mentioned.
"Could be an issue out on the road I suppose,” Dad mused.
"I don't think so, not unless we make it one.”
"Well you've got about three quarters to warm up, there anywhere to get coffee?”
"Didn't see any,” I allowed as I perched on the back of Dieter's car to swap my shoes.
"Sure we'll find some not far away,” Gret's dad stated.
 

Being the first 'proper' event of the year, the presentation was more a general thing than introducing particular riders, I think with our team's big hitters absent it took some of the wind out of the sails. Instead the more prominent squads were introduced en masse, we all duly smiled and waved which at least covered up some of the nervousness at least three of us were feeling. The babbling continued for about ten minutes but then it was time to get ready for the off.

If I had been going for a training ride I would have been in thermals but for racing, well its a bit over the top, around us riders were in states of dress from full coverage to shorts, although no one was showing their arms. Rather than shorts, we were all using knickers, you know, they come down to just below the knee? I was equally happy to have a thermal top on under my jersey too although i'd eschewed long sleeves for arm warmers, even so it felt quite chilly when Kat collected our trackie tops.
 

"Funf, vier, drei, zwei, eins!' Paaarrpp!

Its always good to be near the front when you set off, you aren't trying to avoid a sea of others as you and they get clipped in, you can bet I always end up behind someone who needs three attempts to locate their cleat. Often our junior races are effectively on open roads but at this level a rolling closure is more usual which means we can use the full road width most of the time.

We hadn't ridden that far before flashing lights ahead suggested something going on, turns out we had to do a U turn in front of the junction we'd come in to town through, to go back past the HQ for the start proper. I'm glad we were at the front, the nervous peloton had caused about three collisions before we even got back past the HQ! The race slipped past the race convoy, the Saab at the head of the team cars directly behind the neutral service and Commisar, then through the next junction to the start opposite the botanic gardens.

Yep, unusually we are going counter clockwise today, I suppose with the rolling closure it makes no real odds unless you are outside of the main race. Of course, I was expecting a huge surge of activity once we were clear to race, in the Jungere events there are always suicide attacks as soon as the flag drops. But there was nothing, well not quite nothing just a sort of swell towards the front, already this is looking different to what I'm used to.

Don't get me wrong, this was no procession, people were moving around the peloton and the pace was a quite respectable thirty kph as we headed through the industrial zone to the west of the town. What was missing was all the 'willy waving' that teenage lads do, I don't mean literally but there's a percentage of the lads that like to finesse, to show off to their peers. Doesn't impress me for sure but with a testosterone free race that aspect was completely absent.

We rolled along like one big, slightly messy social ride for a couple of kilometres before we reached open fields and the first climb of the day appeared ahead of us. As Neet had suggested, it was a long draggy affair, a low shoulder of higher ground really which put no one in difficulty, no doubt aided by the slight tail wind. Down, up, down, the road rolling across the open landscape now dominated by a proper hill off to our right covered in dark forest.

But that wasn't for us, instead we descended into a small town, Coppenburg or some such, the race turning left under what appeared to be the local schloss. A few locals cheered us through and still no one had even sniffed at the open road ahead. The five of us in cream were still fairly closely packed, well Ron and Mand had drifted back a few places, or rather theyd been displaced by others, it seems a bit weird not being totally dwarfed by half the field too.

Everyone, well those around us anyway, safely negotiated the village and once clear, on a typical tree lined Sachsen road, another dark mass loomed ahead of us.

Nita lightly tapped me on the back to get my attention, "First proper climb,” she supplied pointing with her head.
"Bad?”
"Maybe ten percent in places,” she allowed, "If I remember, the steep part is up into the forest then it rolls on.”
"Are all the races this quiet? I mean no ones tried anything since the start.”
"Its a long way,” she pointed out, "Whats the hurry?”

Well I can't fault the logic but I'm getting a bit antsy, this just isn't my style of racing.

"Mind if I have a dig up this?”
"Serious?”
"Just a leg stretch.”
"Go for it.”
 

The road, well country lane really I guess, was already climbing towards the next village. The fields of sandy soil stretching away in gentle rolls to either side were showing early signs of greening but without a hedge or wall in sight, it looked more like a patchy prairie than fields. Almost as soon as we passed the yellow name plate the road became more like a patchwork of tarmac complete with lumps, dips and broken road edges, hmm might be useful later on .

Rather than neat bungalows or strips of cottages this place was more like a collection of large farm buildings, scattered to either side, not always even aligned to the road which snaked slowly upward through tree strewn paddocks and gardens. As the buildings thinned the incline increased, another avenue now taking us more steeply upwards towards the forest.

I casually checked out the riders around the pointy end of the race, not knowing any of them meant my assesment was potentially flawed but no one came over as looking particularly 'better' than the rest. Like I say, these girls, well women are all new adversaries to me but you usually get a bit of a hint from peoples body language. This lot, well they are all obviously comfortable enough tapping along as we are but aren't we here to race?
 

The pace dropped as the slope started to bite so I took my chance and accelerated up the gutter. There were some muttered curses and gear changes as number one took position one in the race, I kept pouring on the power right into the sweeping right hander that now jerked uphill ever more steeply. I'll admit to being slightly overgeared but rather than change down I stood on the pedals to keep on top of things.

Trees crowded the road as the gradient eased into a draggy ascent, bobbling about a little but continuing to add metres of height. A surrepticous glance under my arm on the long left hander that followed revealed several groups giving chase, well following me upwards really, a few metres between each – it could quickly all end up back in one piece. There wasn't the urgency in the chase despite me having over a hundred metres clear tarmac, I suppose it might be different later in the race but this complacency I can work with.

The high point was marked by a sharp righthander before a less steep road continued through the trees. If i'd been seriouis this was the point i'd put the hammer down but instead I just rolled along, no point in wasting energy is there? It wasn't quite level by the time the trees gave out to more tilled prairie, the road cutting through the landscape in long straight avenues towards another village whose church tower stood proudly above the red tiles of the surrounding buildings.

I was very nearly in the village before the head of the peloton overtook me, they really hadn't been trying very hard had they? About twenty riders went through before a gap allowed me to slot back in just in time for the almost hairpin turn we had to make only a few metres later. We were now on a much bigger road but one that was headed almost directly into the wind and back up to the forest.
 

I'll be the first to admit it but the juniors are pretty bad when it comes to things like echelons – or working together at all. I hadn't therefore been quite ready for the quick assumption of a mutual windbreak formation as we started the grind into what was actually quite a stiff wind. If you aren't sure what I'm talking about, its essentially a derivative of through and off but instead of two neat lines along the road, positioning is all about everyone getting maximum shelter for as long as possible which meant today we were strung across almost the full width of the road.

Of course, you can't do that in one line of a hundred twenty riders so we were actually in four or five groups along the road. Find yourself in the wrong group and it could be curtains for your chances but as we moved back into the trees everyone came back together as the road changed direction and the woodland offered a good windbreak. There didn't seem to be a set summit this time, we just started tilting downwards before dropping towards what looked like a small town.

The descent was fast, protected from the crosswind by a large promontory, it was only as the road flattened out that we felt the wind again, not as strong but still niggling. Under what looked like an autobahn, we passed a sign for Hameln but continued up a rise into the town. At the top of the rise we turned into what looked like the main shopping street where there was a reasonable crowd lining the barriers defining what looked like a finish zone.

Spotting Ron a couple of riders away I moved up.

"Hi Gab.”
"Hey, so like what gives, I thought the finish was in Hameln?”
"Weren't you listening? There's a sprint here the middle two laps.”
"Right.” I really should listen to the commisars pep talks.
"So what do you think of the womens racing?” she asked reaching for her bidon.
"Not exactly how I imagined it, are they always this, this sleepy?”
"Depends on the route, sometimes its full gas from the gun but these longer races are often quieter until the last hour, guess thats why they put the sprints in, liven things up a bit.”
"Hmm,” I acknowledged stuffing a lump of flapjack into my mouth.

It might be a rolling closure but that doesn't stop there being parked vehicles along the road.

"Recht!” someone ahead yelled.

The peloton swerved away from the kerb but I guess not quick enough. There was the unmistakable squeal of emergency braking before screaming and the sound of bikes and riders hitting the deck rent the air. Its human nature to want to investigate the fate of our fellow man or in this case woman, a few heads snapped about to look which almost caused a second accident.

I don't know how but I could sense that the mass of riders behind was no longer there almost straight away, I hope none of ours are in the thick of what sounded like carnage but its not like I can do anything about it. Ron at least, was still in the front group, a quick count suggested we were about thirty strong, besides Apollinaris, both the Trek and Aldi teams were represented, the balance appeared to be in second tier teams except for one girl in a RSV Magdeburg jersey. Question is, how do we take advantage of the situation?

 
Maddy Bell © 01.05.2021