Gaby Book 28  Balancing Trick by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2023 Madeline Bell

 
Was it the pre-dawn chill in the room that woke her? Well it was either that or the continual drone, like a crowd trying to be quiet apparently just outside of the window. She lay there trying to make sense of it for a minute before, with a sense of foreboding, her grey matter put all the clues together. It was the loud drip just beyond, or so it seemed, the glass that pretty much sealed it, yes there was a crowd outside, not people though, rain drops made up this gathering, a lot of them falling quite hard towards terra firma.

"Urgh!”
“’sup?” de Vreen mumbled from beneath her covers.
"Rain although its coming down not up,” Gab told her roomie.
"Great,” Manda replied with zero enthusiasm.

Gab found her Handy on the night stand and checked the time, just turned six, over an hour before they needed to get up which was little consolation. If there’s one thing that’s universally hated by cyclists its rain, heavy rain and even more so if you are racing. Just knowing you were going out to be thoroughly drowned was enough to deter many riders, as for those that brave it, well its no fun.

Of course, you can’t avoid that particular misery for ever and Gabs had earned the cycle snorkling badge many times over. It still didn’t make the prospect of a wet Potsdamer Grand Prix any more inviting, she could feel the grit in her shorts just thinking about it, urgh! Knowing you don’t need to get out of bed and going back to sleep are two entirely different matters, the continuous tattoo of the rain a constant distraction to slumber.

It was after the third look at the time that she gave up, each interval seeing a single minute pass. Her thoughts turned to the previous evening…
 

"That it?” Daz pointlessly asked.

The five of us were stood in Pariser Platz looking at what, for many Germans, is the most important symbol of German reunification, the Brandenburger Tor, along with a good few other tourists.

"What were you expecting,” Manda enquired.
"Well its not as big as the Arc d’Triomph,” Daz told us.
"Size isn’t everything,” Tali opined, "Right Gabs?”
"Er right, um did you know there’s another one in Potsdam, Brandenburg Gate that is.”
"The same as this hen?” Josh asked.
"A lot smaller,” i put in, "We’ll probably see it tomorrow.”
"We should go through, its a better view from the other side,” Tali enthused.

Of course having seen the Gate we then had to walk the couple of hundred metres to look at the Reichstag, the German parliament building. The redeeming feature of this additional trek was the wűrst stand on the way – look, dinner was hours ago, not that anyone else complained about the diversion. Admittedly the building does look good under floodlights, the glass dome looking quite ethereal against the night sky.

Sightseeing done, we caught another bus to Zoobahnhof where we transferred to the U-Bahn for the couple of stops out to Charlottenburg and the hotel. It was getting on time wise so by mutual consent we headed for our beds.
 

"Suppose we should get up,” Mand suggested throwing her covers back just as my alarm announced seven o’clock.
"I guess,” I concurred with a sigh, the rain was giving no indication of letting up anytime soon besides which, Dieter and co will be here in an hour and a half.

At least we could get breakfast this morning at which thought my stomach gave a rumble. I donned a sports bra, pulled on my race bibs and a t shirt whilst Mand availed herself of the bathroom. We swapped over and I attended to my ablutions by which time de Vreen was ready to go too.

The breakfast room cum reception was already buzzing when we reached it, I guess folk want to make the most of their time in Berlin. The others had beaten us to it and claimed a table with a view out over the ‘garden’, a patch of overgrown grass fringed with bins of varying dimensions and colours. That was the highlight, the incessant wet was doing its best to reduce everything to a grey monotone.

"Nice weather like,” Josh suggested.
"If you’re a duck,” Mand retorted.
"I need coffee,” I told the table, turning to assess the situation.
"Juice anyone?” Mand offered setting off for the victuals.

Considering the nature of the hotel, the frühstück was actually quite good, all the usual components, meat, cheese, cereals, joghurt, fruit, choice of breads plus there was scrambled egg and salad stuff, several juices and a proper toaster. It may be a grotty day outside but inside things were looking decidedly rosy. As an experienced breakfast buffet eater I planned my meal in my head – not difficult as its usually quite similar and always in the same order. Joghurt with fruit, maybe an egg, meat/cheese sandwich followed by toast with some sweet spread all washed down with copious coffee and fruit juice – yep, a veritable feast.
 

"You think they’ll cancel?” Daz asked as I put together a second sandwich.
"Doubt it,” Tal sighed.
"It’d need to be worse than this I think, floods and stuff,” I suggested piling the last scrambled egg onto the brötchen.
"They might shorten it,” Mand proposed.
"Just glad I brought ma overshoes,” Josh told us.

Conversation around the table was quite muted, everyone resigned to several uncomfortable hours in the saddle. Not for the first time I questioned our sanity, I mean, we do this for fun, okay Apollinaris are generous with kit and expenses but even so, unlike the seniors who are actually paid to ride, we do it because we want to. Okay, I’ll admit that personal glory is a motivator but days like today – well they push the limits even for me.

By eight we were done, by eight fifteen we were assembled in the entrance hall waiting for our transport.

"Sorry we’re late, accident on the autobahn,” Dieter advised as he ducked inside ten minutes after the agreed time. "Everything here?”
"Ready an’ waitin’ like” Josh supplied.
"Okay, bike boxes in the trailer, cases in the bus.”

Five minutes later we were making our way through Berlin’s suburbia through the still very insistent rain.
 

Houses were replaced by woodland before Dieter pulled into a lay-by, turning to address us.

"Okay ladies, gentlemen, we’ll join the main circuit in a moment, remember its just one pass before the laps in Potsdam.”
"How far from the start to where we pick it up?” Josh asked.
Dieter checked his notes, "Just under ten kilometres, the first two are neutralized so about eight K of racing, which the profile claims to be pretty much flat.”
"We should be warmed up by the time we get here then,” Daz mused.
"Indeed, according to the profile the main climbing opportunities are in the next ten kilometres or so then its flat to rolling back to Potsdam.”
"So we should be thinking of making a move early then?” I suggested.
"It would be my reading of things, that or wait for the gallop which is what most of the field will be expecting.”
"We’d best get a look at these ‘opportunities’ then,” Josh encouraged.

Dieter turned back to the wheel and we returned to the road.
 

"What do you reckon hen?” Josh asked some forty minutes later as we made our way into Potsdam.
"I guess its one of those three climbs then.”
"Please don’t say the first one,” Gret pled.
"Okay I won’t, any thoughts on climb two?”
"We could be carrying some good speed into it after that long descent,” Daz observed.
"Not ideal,” Mand agreed.
"Looks like the last one past that tower thing then.”
"Its a long drag Gabs,” Tali noted.
"Yeah but its got that steep bit and we’ll be coming off the flat,” Mand put in.
"What about a feint on the first climb, draw some of the sting, maybe break things up a bit then main effort on the tower?” I proposed.
"Josh?” Mand prompted, "You’re road captain.”
"Its as good a plan as any, Daz, fancy a go?”
"I guess,” our newest recruit agreed.
"Okay, Manda, Tali you’re on blocking for that.”
"What about if its all together when we get back here?” Daz asked.
"Plan B, keep it fast and get our Unicorn to the line first.”
"Not you too Josh,” I groaned.
"Sorry Hen, you did look kinda c…”
I cut him off, "Don’t you dare say the c word Joshua Waugh!”
"Ah was gonna say comfortable,” the big Toon grinned.
 

The start was in the ‘shadow’ of Potsdam’s version of the Brandenburg Gate which is where we were now, an exuberant MC doing his best to enthuse the few damp individuals waiting to cheer us off into the late morning drizzle. To be honest I’d rather it rained properly and got it over with, drizzle always seems to offer false hope. On the plus side it wasn’t cold with it, those wearing race capes will soon be regretting their choice, of our lot five wore gilets, Josh alone decoding to eschew any attempt at keeping the wet at bay.

At precisely eleven the bells of the huge parish church struck the hour and a moment later we were sent on our way with a blast on a klaxon. I’m not religious but I offered up a quick prayer that it would dry up.

The field was the usual mix for these National B races, mostly ‘local’ riders with a few riders/teams from further afield. I recognised a few faces but not many, on the other hand Apollinaris and of course my rainbow bands are well known, we are certainly at a disadvantage where anonymity is involved. The lead car led us through the pedestrianised main street at a very sedate pace, only picking up to a steady twenty ish when we turned onto unrestricted roads.

A few dozen metres of cobbles jounced us about until a second turn put us onto a wide boulevard, by my computer our release was still a kilometre away.

Josh came up beside me as we cruised along in the middle of the field, "What do you reckon?”
"A few ah recognise, more ah don’t hen.”
"Same here, we really are playing blind.”
"We sticking to the plan?”
"What choice have we got?” I replied with a shrug.
"Aye.”

On the plus side the drizzle seemed to be abating, was there even a hint of brightness in the heavens?
 

The real race start was a bit of a non event, oh there were the usual feints off the front but who in their right mind would launch a real attack this far out? Okay, it did briefly cross my mind but another day riding on my own didn’t appeal, even if the course is softer than last week. So anyway, the chancers each had their day but by the time we crossed the bridge that marked the end of Potsdam we were all together bowling along at about thirty K.

So much for the profile issued by the race organisers, the wide road swept through a couple of bends and started to climb. Okay, it was hardly the Mur de Huy but it was still upward, and even five percent for a couple of kilometres has its effects on the legs. A cadre of riders were keeping the pace around thirty so it was no surprise that behind us a few of the less able were dangling off the back before we reached the nominal summit. I say nominal, it just sort of levelled off for a bit, when it did start to dip it had little effect until a steeper bit lost most of the gained height in perhaps four hundred metres. The comp suggested we were approaching the turn onto what I still considered to be the first climb, I checked the whereabouts of the rest of the team, yep, all in place.

We swept over another grand bridge, the road started to rise a little then we were on the turn. The front of the race eased into a lazy turn, Daz bade his time, launching his effort from about fifteenth wheel just before the turn was complete. It certainly threw those not expecting such a move, by the time he’d got clear, Tal and Mand were going through for their bit of the action.

There was plenty of confusion and some expletives around me, I guess our subterfuge is working. The stretch of dual carriageway up to Wannsee bahnhof prevented too much of a coming together as those behind reacted better than the leaders to our move. Even so. By the time we rolled onto the descent, Daz had a good fifty metre lead and our blockers had succeeded in preventing all but two chasers actually, er, chasing.

I hadn’t really noticed, the spray from the wheels in front disguised it, but the wet from above had ceased. I know we’re plenty wet enough but hopefully in a few K’s I won’t need to worry about wheel spray either. Unless the heavens open again of course.

Considering how much we’d climbed, the descent was quite impressive, we were touching fifty K by the time it bottomed out and climb two, a longer affair than the first, started in earnest. up ahead Daz was still giving it some, his lead was reduced but not by much. Of course momentum only takes you so far, at some point its effects are lost and the front of the peloton turned into a bit of a wild scramble. Further back things were calmer and we climbed in a much more controlled manner.

The natural thing to do at the top of a climb is ease off a bit – wrong, you keep the pressure on to press you advantage, Daz did the latter, the front of the bunch the former. As we started the long flats that would take us back towards the lake, our man was a good hundred metres ahead and the oomph seemed to have gone from the pursuit. Of course Tali and Mand were still playing interference when they could, Josh and Gret joining the fun as opportunity arose.

Part of me wanted to get in there and help but we had a plan and sticking to it will give us a better chance of success than me wading in wasting energy. It was the fast decent to the waterside that sealed Daz’s fate, a single rider has the advantage on technical downhill but a nice sweeping job like this, well its like the race between a single drop of water and a bucketful.

Our escapologist made it onto the lakeside before the ravening monster of pursuers swallowed him up. There was an almost immediate slowing of pace but hopefully the damage is done. He gave me the thumbs up as he slid back for some rest, unless we have to resort to plan B his work is done for a while.
 

There were a few puddles as we traced the lakeside but otherwise the road was drying out quite quickly, time to lose the gilet. One reason for choosing the sleeveless garment was its ease in removal, jackets are far more trouble, especially in a bunch situation. It was off and stuffed in a pocket in seconds, soon be time to demonstrate just why I’m wearing the stripy jersey.

I saw the sign for the DLRG station, my launch spot is coming up. I checked to see where the rest were, the girls were all in place and a flick of my hand brought Josh past me ready to be my turbo booster. There were a few wary looks from the rest of the peloton but seriously, none of Apollinaris were riding top twenty, any action would surely come from elsewhere, right?

Josh waited until the road turned into the base of the climb, a dive to the left saw him free of impediment and off he went. Of course, I knew the tells, I was glued to his wheel before he was past the first rank ahead of us. For such a big lad he goes up hills remarkably well and we were soon at the front, the response, a cacophony of rushed gear changing and slipping chains.

It was never gonna be a long effort from the Tynesider, I could sense him slowing moments before he heaved himself towards the curb leaving me with clear tarmac up the long, straight drag. I kept the pressure on for another twenty, thirty metres before changing down another sprocket and getting re seated. Gott, it didn’t seem this far in the bus earlier, but eventually I passed the tower car park entrance, not much further to the top.

And there it was, the bus shelter at the summit, I changed back up one and stood on the pedals for one last effort to the top. My turn to be chased downhill but I have an advantage over Daz, I’m the current World and National time trial meisterin, before I was ten metres into the descent I was down in an aero tuck and by the time the gradient started to kick in I was well through the gears doing close on fifty five kph. With a road clear of other riders I was free to pick my own line through the couple of wide bends, the last steeper ramp to the lakeside pushing my speed above sixty for a few seconds.

I chanced a glance under my arm, the rest of the race were nowhere in sight, hang on, is that them just coming off the bend now? I reached for a bidon and took a good drag of its contents, my wheels hissing across the damp tarmac in a very pleasing manner. Our reconnaissance earlier was really useful now for I knew there were several kilometres of flat, well a couple of tiny blips, that would take me and my pursuers into Spandau along, what I now realised, was the same road we used to get back into Berlin on Friday evening.

What is going on behind? Is there a pursuit? It would be good to know but for now its just a case of pressing on blindly, hell, the neutral service hasn’t even come up, are they really still that close? Stop worrying Bond, just get on with the job.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023