*Chapter 3*

Flat Out
 
 
By the time Dad and Mike got to me I’d got the back wheel out and was waiting impatiently.

“Early doors.” Mike mentioned as he slotted in the replacement.

“Yeah.” I sighed.

I quickly mounted up and with a shove from Mike was back on the road.

“Bond!” a voice called out causing me to look round, I reckonised the grinning countenance in the red, black and yellow strip, Michael Desgrange. You remember Michael from the Dreilander Jüngere Grand Prix back in the early summer?

“Michael didn’t know you were here.” I mentioned as he rode up to me.

“Saw you last night but you were with your friends, nice poster by the way.”

Joy – if Michael can recognise me how many others will?

“Whatever, you get caught in the crash?”

“Yeah,” he lamented, “mangled my front wheel, you?”

“No damage but I just punctured.”

“We’d best get up to the action.”

“Yeah.” I agreed.

With that mutual agreement to work together we started a bit of a rotation, when a little further on we caught up to Daz we were set to get back to the main field.
 
 

The road pretty much hugs the lakeside with the railway pacing alongside on the landward side. It wasn’t exactly flat but the changes in altitude were relatively small and by Walchwil the tail end of the peloton was in view, the flashing light of the lead car further ahead but not dramatically so.

“Looks like us.” Michael offered.

“Yeah I agreed.”

“Take care Drew.”

“And you.” I agreed as we eased into the back of the crowd.

“You know that lad?” Daz enquired.

“Yeah, beat him in a race earlier in the year, he’s pretty hard core, worth keeping an eye on.” I observed.

“Bond!”

I’m gonna change my name.

“Yo!” I allowed as Mark dropped back to us.

“Claire said you’d flatted.”

“Yeah, so what’s the score?”

“The others are up front, there’s a small break, couple of Swiss, a Frog and some other kid, not going anywhere, they’ve had ten seconds for the last ten k.”

“What do you reckon, about two hours at this pace.”

“No real climbs until that Weggis place, I reckon we hold off on doing anything till then – unless someone else does.”

“There is that.” I agreed.

“Lets get back up front.” Cav suggested, after getting caught in that tumble I was only too happy to follow him up through the bunch.
 
 

At Arth we turned away fro Zugersee towards Goldau and the first climb of the day. The break seemed to take heart as the road started to rise, the reaction from the peloton was muted to say the least and as we passed under the motorway junction their lead was stretching quite rapidly – if they get thirty seconds it’ll be murder pulling it back.

“Josh.”

“Wassup?” he whispered back.

“Chase?”

“Say when man.” He grinned back.

We’d no doubt get some company but its not like we’re going for the stage, just evening the odds a bit.

“Cav, 42?” I queried, forty-two being our team code for ‘attack’.

He nodded his consent, as a team we had discussed this sort of thing happening and we’d looked at various scenarios but not what was to actually happen next. As the road climbed a bit more steeply I signalled Josh and the two of us went for it, scratch that, three of us as Mark glued himself to my wheel. What the heck is he up to? He’s supposed to stay in the main bunch and come up with the chase.

No point in worrying now, we’re committed to the move now. In truth I’d expected us to get about ten metres before there was a reaction but we were now nearly at the top of the climb and I couldn’t hear any pursuit. I took over from Josh, keeping the pace high, we had reduced the gap to the break to maybe seventy metres and as the road tilted down towards Lauerzsee I turned up the screw, Cav surprising me by coming through for a turn soon after.

I dropped in behind Josh before casting behind to see where the response was to find instead of us igniting a reaction the bunch seemed to be ignoring us completely. Sugar, what do we do now, both captains are chasing the break, the rest of the team are now leaderless in a hostile peloton, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Thought you were staying back?” I mentioned as Cav dropped back.

“I thought when you said 42 that meant we were attacking?”

“Well only to stir the bunch up, not that that seems to’ve happened.”

“Clearly they don’t reckon we’re any threat.”

Hmm, this might be our chance, we could kill the break and take our chances or we can maybe steal the advantage?

“What say we go for it then? There’s a few back there will see the danger but I don’t reckon there’ll be an organised chase for a bit.”

“Can but try.” Mark shrugged.

As a game plan it wasn’t exactly brilliant, we’d no doubt get swallowed up in a few k’s but at least we’d know what to expect in future.

“Lets do it, Josh my man, don’t spare the horses.”

“Yes milady!” he grinned back.
 
 

“What’s happening?” Mand asked, riding up to Geth.

“No flippin’ idea, Drew, Cav and Josh took off like blue arsed what nots, everyone else just seem to be looking at each other.”

“Sugar.” She uttered to herself, “watch the Germans, they all know Drew so we go where they go, I’ll tell the others.”

Geth was only too happy to be told what to do, tactics were never his strong point and without the guidance of Drew or Cav he really was like a rudderless boat. Meanwhile Mand slipped around the bunch to tell the others, a bunch that was still pretty much ignoring the action in front.

“Hey Manda, any idea who’s away?” Roni enquired.

“No idea, no ones chasing though.”

“Must be some chancers out to impress.”

“Yeah.” Mand agreed, ignorance is bliss!

‘Break 4, 7, 29, 73, 110, 111, 117 – peloton 35 seconds.’ The race radio advised as they followed the race along the edge of Lauerzsee.

“Three of ours!” Mike excitedly mentioned.

“What the heck are they up to?” Dave enquired to no one in particular, “They were supposed to stay safe in the bunch.”

“Mark, Drew and Josh, oh shite.” Mike’s enthusiasm waned as quickly as it had risen.

“Shite indeed, they’re supposed to be saving themselves not attacking, Dave’s gonna go ape.”
 
 

For his part, Dave was with Caro, Steve and Darren a couple of kilometres ahead at the feed station.

“What the hell are they doing?”

“No idea boss, it’ll ease the feed though.” Caro offered.

“Don’t they ever listen?” Dave fumed.

“I’m sure they know what they’re doing Dave.” Steve supplied, fingers crossed behind his back.

The three of them had made contact with the four-man break as they left Lauerz after Josh put in a monster effort on the descent to the village. The others seemed a little surprised to see them but seemed happy enough to join in the rotation that the newcomers initiated. More riders, more rest but more momentum and with the help of the twisty lakeside road the lead started to increase second by second.

“We still on?” I asked as Cav came past in the rotation.

“I guess, be better if I can spell a few rotes.”

“After the feed? Its only a couple of K’s.”

“Sure, hey the neutrals coming up.”

“Thirty seconds then, still a long way to go though.”

“How committed are we?” he asked next rotation.

“Can’t see us making the finish but we can have a crack at the intermediate, that’s only about twenty five away.” I mentioned after checking my route card.

“’Kay, the others look strong enough.”

“For now.” I agreed.
 
 

“Steady, forty.” Steve told me as I grabbed my musette.

Hmm, still going out but there’s like sixty odd kilometres to go.

The next kilometres returned us to a lakeside, Vierwaldstattersee this time; we’ll pretty much follow the ‘northern’ coast back to Luzern. Mark managed to surreptitiously sit out about one rotation in three, not that he was alone; the French lad was starting to struggle a bit although the two Swiss and it turned out to be a Swede were still doing full turns. A slight wind on our left shoulders didn’t go amiss and we were holding a steady forty kph along the almost level road to Gersau.

The kilometres clicked by, our lead hovering around the forty second point, the bunch still uninterested in any kind of serious chase.

“Sprint’s in the next town.” I mentioned to Josh.

“Who’s going?” he asked.

Good question, its supposed to be a stiff climb to the line, my speciality but Mark is the designated sprinter. The decision was taken out of my hands as the taller of the Swiss chose that moment to go for it. I glanced at Cav who shook his head, well Drew old boy, time to show what you’re made of.

I snicked up a gear and set off in pursuit, I was still twenty metres off his wheel when we turned into Weggis but the gap was closing. The climb was noticeable by its absence and I closed the remaining gap in short order, both of us easing slightly as my adversary realised a different tactic would be required. Then we turned away from the waterfront and started the climb.

After barely a climb in thirty kilometres the steepness of this ascent came as something of a shock to the system and I lost several metres to the Swiss before my head told my legs what to do. A small but partisan crowd cheered as we climbed away from the lake then I got my chance, my opponent faltered as he crossed some sort of utility cover, I needed no second invitation and kicked towards the left. A curse and crash of gears gave away his response; I just kept stamping on the pedals.

The gradient started to ease as the road widened and the ‘summit’, well sprint point was suddenly just metres away. I crossed the line just as the red fog made its presence felt amidst great cheering from the crowd. I eased right back and was surprised when both Josh and Cav joined me as we rejoined the main road.

“Bleh!”

“We’ve done it now,” Mark mentioned.

“Eh?”

“Josh here dragged me up the climb, that Swiss kid blew so we got second and third.”

“Result!” I glanced back, “ no sign of the bunch or that French kid.”

“Go for it?” Mark suggested.
It’s a fairly flat forty kilometres to the finish, what’s the worst that can happen?

© Maddy Bell 07.01.14