Gaby Book 27 Smell of the Crowd by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2022 Madeline Bell Life has some certainties, birth and death of course, but the rest is a mix of Minestrone and Spaghetti, some of which we have no direct influence over. We can however decide whether we want Parmesan or other seasoning, we can give Gnochi a try, doesn't mean we'll like it but at least we'll know. Gaby has reached just such a point in her life, she knows she likes Pizza, she's not averse to Spaghetti or Lasagne but is Gnochi for her? The Gnochi in this case is doing the singing with BlauHase on a more serious level, as a 'hobby' its fine but could this be a change of career? Well you don't find out without trying so that's just what our heroine is about to find out in this, the 27th book of the Gaby saga.

 
'Huh, ha, kerbump, kerbump, huh, ha, kerbump, kerbump, huh, ha, kerbump, kerbump, huh, ha, kerbump, kerbump.'

My legs were screaming, my breathing laboured and my heart was trying to escape from my chest. I tried the gear shift but nothing happened, a quick glance down revealed the why, the chain was already on the twenty eight. I stood to try and get my leaden legs to put out more power but it was like riding through mud with slicks, the forward movement not matching the effort.

Ahead of me the tail end of the bunch was moving further ahead and we're not even onto the climb proper yet. There was nothing I could do, no response from my body to reverse the situation, at this rate I'll be pushing the damn bike before I reach the top – and in these shoes too! This is ridiculous, can't, huh, go, huh, any, huh, further.

I keeled over onto the verge, my dress hooked on the saddle exposing my knickers, one of my heels caught in the back wheel leaving me in a tangled mess and all the audience clapping and cheering to the backing of Queen's Bicycle Race. At least being a fat bottomed girl meant landing on my rump hadn't been too painful. I readjusted my rainbow striped dress after untangling my stiletto from the wheel, what was I thinking trying to do bike gymnastics on this tiny stage?
 

"Brrrrrp, brrrrrp, brrrrrp.........brrrrrp, brrrrrp, brrrrrp.”

I woke with a start before snaking a hand out to shut off the alarm. Geez, thank the gods that was a dream, a dream that had left me in a sweaty tangle of pyjamas and bed clothes. Urgh, race day, guess i'd best get organised.

 
"You look...” Gret started joining me as I tackled some food.
"Like poo, I know, bad dream,” I allowed.
"Mornin', looks like the weathers gonna be okay,” Josh told us arriving with Tal and Dieter a moment later.
"Well that's one thing sorted then.”
"You okay Gab,” Dieter enquired.
"Bad dream,” Gret stated before I had a chance to respond.
"You only came second?” Tal suggested.
"Ha, ha,” I replied flatly.
"Well eat up, we need to be away in thirty minutes,” Dieter chivvied.

For once it wasn't me doing the 'yes dad' bit, Gret doing the honours this morning.
 

Of course, the others were in bike kit, the car sported a trio of Pinarello's and spare wheels on the roof and I was stood there in civvies. Hopefully Dad has got all my gear in the Hymer but it feels so wrong setting off for a race with nothing. I do have my racing licence in my purse but that lives there anyway, no this is just weird.

Eight thirty on a Sunday, why couldn't I do a civilised sport that starts later in the day, Kickball or hockey or something?
 
"Last night was brilliant,” Gret enthused as we set off for our rendezvous with the rest of Team Apollinaris.
"Aye,” Josh added, "You really smashed it like, Hen.”
"Er thanks.”
"I don't know how you do it, don't you get nervous, you know, up there in front of all those people?” Tal quested.

Do I? Well a bit, probably less than this morning, especially after that nightmare.

"Not really, you can't really see the audience much with all the lights and stuff and if you don't think about it...”
"Well I couldn't do it,” Gret admitted, "I used to clam up if I had to read aloud at school, I can't imagine doing what you do."
"She has been practicing a while like,” Josh stated, "All those race presentations.”
"Hardly the same,” I pointed out.
 

The race, the Sud Rhön GP, wasn't taking place far from Fulda, well about forty kilometres away, pretty much on the north Bavarian border with Thüringen, just outside of Hesse. According to my road atlas there's some quite high hills, six, seven hundred metres but more rolling than the Eifel. We've ridden tougher circuits but after the week i've had, well I can't say I was very confident of getting a result.

It only took us forty five minutes to reach the rendezvous point just outside of Bischofsheim, Dad and the others were already there they must've set off well before us, Mand already had a pot of coffee waiting for us.

"Morning everyone,” Dad greeted as we joined the three of them inside the camper.

We all found seats, it can get a bit cosy with this many inside, I found myself squeezed in between Gret and Daz on the big sofa.

"I hope you all slept okay?”
"Like a baby,” Dieter volunteered.
"Gab had a nightmare,” Tali stated.
"So she only came second?” Mand chortled.
"You can go off people,” I mumped.
"Well, dreams not withstanding,” Dad went on, "Today should suit us well. The first lap,” he picked up the pad he used for these briefings and showed us the sketch map he'd done, "Is straight around, nothing too crazy and its only forty five K. the second time around though it deviates just after halfway to take in what could be and I'm guessing that's why they put it in, the race deciding climb.”
"Is it silly steep or something,” Tal queried.
"The map shows a couple of hairpins and it gains most of two hundred metres in just a couple of kilometres.”
"Ouch,” Daz allowed from beside me.
"Well we'll see,” Dad told us, finish up your coffee and we'll go take a look.”
"You want to take the car Dave,” Dieter suggested, "I can take this to the HQ and start getting everything set up.”
"Okay, Josh, Darren, can you give Dieter a hand taking the bikes off.”
 

I wouldn't say that with all the seats in Dieter's people carrier occupied it was exactly spacious, and being the smallest I ended up in the middle of the rear seat but it was more practical than the camper for our current needs. The first few kilometres were on one of those roads that is never quite straight or flat, there was certainly nowhere to hide. Eventually though we turned onto more of a proper climb, a handful of fairly wide turns raising us a fair chunk.

"The first circuit goes straight here,” Pater told us as we turned off the rolling road we'd turned onto above the climb, a church dominating the crossroads.

"Rothe Kuppe,” Josh stated, "Sounds ominous like.”

Yeah I saw the sign too, looks like the local go to tourist spot by the other sign for a restaurant of the same name. The road ramped out of the village through fields although there were trees on the hillside ahead of us, somewhere up there is this Rothe Kuppe place. And then things got a bit more serious.

It wasn't Alpine but the first bend certainly dialled up the gradient, probably ten or twelve percent and it stayed there through turn two before easing a bit towards the next turn, just visible maybe a kilometre further on. Whilst steeper through the corner it didn't resume the double figure percentages until after turn four but only briefly up to the wide parking area that was effectively the summit, the race people already had the barrier stuff out and a couple of guys looked to be setting up some sort of PA system.

Dad pulled into the parking area and we all clambered out.

"What do you think?”
"Well,” Mand started, "I'm glad we only do it once.”
"Ah think its spot on for Gab like,” Josh opined.
"If I'm still in contention,” I put in, I just can't shake that dream.
"What about the first climb?” Dad asked, thoughts?”
"We could try an attack on that,” Daz suggested, "Reduce the numbers a bit.”

It was the most i've heard him say this weekend.

"First or second lap?” Tali queried.
"Both?”
"Gab?” Dad queried, "What're you thinking?”
"Well we have a dig the first time, shake things up a bit, not to actually go for a serious move.”
"It'll shake some out that's for sure,” Gret offered.
"Lap two, we do it again but harder, shorten the odds for this one where we go all in,” I concluded.
"Anyone else?” Dad prompted.
"Does this road go up much more?” Josh asked.
"Lets go find out,” Dad enthused.
 

It did, not steeply but noticeably for perhaps another fifteen hundred metres before it started to tilt downwards.

"We'll have keep the pressure on after the prime,” Josh stated.
"Maybe we should ignore the prime,” Mand suggested, "Put on the pressure to the real summit.”
"Gaby?” Dad prompted, "What do you reckon?”
"It goes against the grain but if we're not chasing for the intermediate we can be a bit fresher for the final.”

By now we'd dropped a fair bit and soon came to the junction that reunited us with the main circuit. After the next village the road bounced about a bit, short uphill's spelled with longer downs and plenty of twisty bits, a small group escaping over the top would hold the advantage. Things flattened out as we reached the valley floor and we were soon in Bischofsheim again, a couple of minutes later we were at the sports ground that was hosted the race HQ.
 

Dieter had been busy whilst we've been doing the sightseeing thing, the ezy-up was, erm, up and he was busy pumping tyres with the compressor. There were quite a lot of other cars, vans, campers and buses filling the car park, whilst today is not Jungere League, it is part a regional series, there were plates suggesting riders from quite a wide area, as far away as Stuttgart although Dieter's CB probably trumped them all in distance travelled.

"Your gears in the bedroom Gab,” Mand advised as we once again unpacked ourselves from Dieter's Sharan.
"Cheers, guess i'd best get changed.”
"Coffee anyone?” Tali proposed.

I know i've been out on my other bike a couple of times whilst i've been away but it still felt slightly odd when I returned to the lounge to find everyone, well except Dad and Gret's dad, in lycra variously nursing coffee cups, bottles of water or snacks.

"Okay, everyone happy with the plan?” Dad asked.
"Me and Manda do a feint on climb one,” Daz offered.
"If we're still all together, we have a proper go on lap two,” Gret continued, "Then whoever is at the front attacks through the prime, rest of us block.”

Of course, even the best laid plans can go awry but, in the shell of a nut, if nothing else happens, that's our plan.
 

"You want anything?” Dad queried a few minutes later, "You've been a bit quiet this morning.”
"Time of the month,” I quipped, "Any flapjack left?”

Yeah, we have Flapjack in Germany too, why wouldn't you?

"Some in the tin kiddo, grab a piece and we'll go sign on.”

And so we went mob handed to the Kontrolle.
"I'm getting some funny looks,” I whispered to Mand.
"All of us,” she suggested.
"No, I'm sure its me, its not like they can see my jersey,” i'd purposely kept my tracky top on after all.
"Must be the hair then, it is a bit, erm, bright, clashes with your top.”

I'd clean forgotten about my pink mop, even in its neat twin braids there's no disguising it.

I sighed deeply, "So much for incognito.”

Things didn't improve when we signed on, our collection of British, Mand, Daz and Josh, and German, me, Tal and Gret, international licences made us very exotic, I certainly didn't see anything else that wasn't domestic German. Looks like we'll have targets on our collective backs today. Back at the camper we got down to the rest of our pre race prep, warming up, putting on heart rate bands, loading food and drink, but my mind kept wandering to that dream.

'I stood to try and get my leaden legs to put out more power but it was like riding through mud with slicks, the forward movement not matching the effort.'

"Gab!”
"Eh?”

Dad was stood next to me as I put in a hard effort at the end of my warm up.

"Soz, miles away.”
"Take it easy, you okay?”
"Fine, just you know, bit nervous.”
"What happened to the singing megastar we saw last night?”
"Still in bed in Fulda.”
"Just do your best,” he turned to address the full collective, "Okay people, no feed today but you can pick up bottles when you come through after lap one. If you need service there's a neutral car with the race, we'll have a couple of wheels with the bottles but otherwise you're on your own. Josh, road leader, enjoy yourselves out there.”
 

Fifteen minutes later we were lined up with the rest of the competition listening to the usual commisars speech, we get it every race, keep right, do this, don't do that, blah de blah. I tuned it out and looked around our fellow competitors, best part of eighty, mostly lads, well I think besides me and the girls there are another seven or eight girls, none of which I recognised but that's not to say we haven't crossed wheels before. Of the lads, there were a few familiar jerseys, clubs if not riders we've encountered when we've raced in central Germany, a few faces looked our way as the official droned on, I guess they are as curious about us as we are them.

"Funf, vier, drei, zwei, eines.”

PAARP!

With a clatter of step in pedals being engaged and the usual cursing and cajoling as slow movers, jumping gears and impatience set us on our way for a hundred kilometres of the Sud Rhön GP. Of course, the first kilo is under caution so the rush to clip in is a bit pointless but it happens all the time anyway. I always think we're like a hoard of gladiators, setting out to cause mayhem, but today, well am I going to be the one spat out of the fray?

We approached the bridge under the bypass, the lead car sped up and the neutral flag was swapped for the national black red and gold and we were off. No suicide attack from Apollinaris today but as we started the long open slope northwards, several riders did make breaks for freedom. No idea what they thought would happen, you need to be a strong rider with a good team to stand any chance of success, its not like they even tried to form a proper break, they just went off on their own.

Out on the road, the wind was noticeable as a slight cross-cum-head wind which in my book makes a solo effort until lap two even more stupid. The peloton was rolling along at a comfortable thirty, thirty five but it was clear that the more experienced riders were watching the sky blue jerseys and keeping their powder dry.

"Was that a spot of rain?”Tali suggested in hushed tones.
I looked up at the sky and replied in kind, "Could be, some grey coming in.”

According to Dad the forecast was essentially dry, bright turning overcast later, typical for the time of year but something wet hit my face too. Hmm, rain will change the race dynamic quite a bit. I turned to Josh and mimed feeling for rain, he nodded back in agreement.

A couple more lads clipped off the front as we closed on the first climb, they quickly made fifty metres but as is often the case, thats as far as they got. They were holding the gap though, the bunch was still waiting for us to react which of course, we stubbornly failed to do. But the escapees could be useful, Daz and Mand slipped away from the rest of us, only a bit sideways really but enough to divide attention, I did the same with Tali but moved to the head of the peloton at the same time. There was no hiding we were finally preparing for something, why else would the rainbow jersey move to the head of affairs?

I flicked my fingers to signal Tal who immediately stood up and came past me, not exactly quickly, which was the whole point. The ruse seemed to work, the front of the peloton was straight on the 'not' move, out of the saddle and following the feint. With most of the attention now on Tal and me, Mand and Daz launched themselves on the blind side with considerably more speed and conviction.

Its difficult to change your speed from fast to faster when you've already commited to a gear and effort so the reaction was somewhat frustrated. Of course Josh and Gret followed through in a blocking tactic which further hindered the reaction, to say there was a bit of cussing going on would be to understate the matter!

Our two escapees, quickly overhauled the leaders, taking a wide line to stop them jumping on but unlike that hapless duo, our pair kept the gas on, and on. By the time the bunch had readjusted its effort to chase, the English duo were trading effort best part of two hundred metres ahead. Of course there is always fall out in these situations and today that meant there were already riders falling out of the back, in my dream I was one of them but for now at least I was comfortably slotted in behind our road captain humming Lorelei to myself.

Maddy Bell © 24.02.2022