It might be an uphill drag but it’s a fast surface and the little wind today helped hasten us up towards the GP circuit. We don’t do the GP circuit as a loop this time, instead we go straight into our second lap of the Nordschleife. We crested the summit and the sensible reached for bottles and food, the feed is next lap and still over twenty K away.

Of course the rather distant grandstands were silent but the small group of spectators were pretty vocal, aided and abetted by the MC. I spotted Dad at the barrier and angled a bit closer.

"Next time,” I huffed.
"Two thirty,” came the reply
The exchange might’ve been brief but we’d exchanged all we needed in those four words.
"We okay?” Ron asked moving alongside.
"Yeah, next time on the climb,” I advised in low tones.
"Tal?”
"Two and a half.”

She nodded at the news – we’d hoped for about two so we were stronger than the plan calls for. No sooner had I imparted the news than the girls popped into view across the grass infield. Damn, if anyone else spots them it might rev up a chase.
 
Well obviously as they are Apollinaris riders we’re not going to make any sort of pursuit but then the onus is on us to control things. Well that’s the theory. There were a couple of short lived attempts to give chase, Josh jumping on each in turn.

The next attack didn’t need the Toon’s attention, Mand went from the right hand gutter and quickly acquired twenty metres and a brace of faithful followers. I must admit to allowing a bit of a smirk to reach my face as she led her tail and inevitably the rest of the peloton first to one kerb then the other. She kept it up for a full kilometre before sitting up, at which point the chasers eased up too – the escape thwarted.

Of course there never had been any intention for Mand to get away but it was a great diversionary tactic, one that both satisfied the bunch’s desire to chase whilst actually slowing things down. Sneaky eh. By the time we were headed into the countryside again Tal and Gret were pretty much forgotten, the twisty track keeping them from view – at least for now.
 
"Well that was interesting man,” Josh noted as we hovered around tenth wheel.
"So ready?”
"First ramp?”
"About right,” I agreed, "Best let Ron and Mand know.”
"Yeah,” he agreed sliding off the pace to find them.
I dug in my jersey pocket for another energy bar – well better safe than sorry, not far now.
 
Phish, phish, phish.
Sugar. I stuck an arm in the air and steered across towards the track edge.
"Wassup?” Ron asked.
"Puncture, front.”

Rear punctures are rarely much of a problem, if need be you can ride for a bit on them but front, well you need to get stopped asap.
Josh and Mand were soon in attendance too, standard team tactic but potentially dangerous.

"Swap?” Mand offered as we slowed.
My brain was working overtime for a positive, ding! “Ron, Mand stay with the bunch, Josh’ll get me back.”
 
No point in wearing everyone out. The girls managed to tag into the tail of the peloton as Josh and I came to a halt. I stayed over the bike, opening the quick release and removing the wheel before hearing the neutral service stopping behind us.

It didn’t save much but in this situation every second counts, I tried to remain calm as the rest of the race disappeared up the road. The mechanic slotted the replacement home and closed the lever, I was clipped and moving before he had the flat out of Josh’s hand. Then of course I couldn’t get my left shoe to engage.

"Come on, lass,” Josh instructed as he placed a ham on my posterior to provide me with forward motion as I played with my pedal.

Eventually, it was probably like two seconds, the cleat snapped into place and we could start the chase back.

"Cheers, Josh.”
"It’s what I do, man, noo set in and shut oop like.”
"Yes, sir.”
 
We weren’t gaining anything initially, the course dropping towards Adenau lending more speed to the chased as well as chasers. I glued myself to the Toon’s rear wheel, maybe a little closer than sense would suggest but I've enough confidence in my tractor to tuck in as close as possible. It had been a fairly quick change but it was still most of a minute loss, the rest of the race now about five hundred metres ahead of us. At least the service didn’t come past which they should’ve done.

Josh kept the power on, the speed barely affected on the first couple of inclines. There was no energy available to lose to conversation, not that there was anything to say, I poked my head around him a couple of times to check on progress. We were still adrift when we hit the first ramp, where we should’ve been attacking.

“Our turn, J,” Ron puffed.

He swung left and I swapped to Mand’s wheel, her smaller size not impacting much given that we were climbing at over five percent. I could see the peloton easier now, the girls had only needed to drop about fifty metres back to us but having ridden the bunch for the last five K were somewhat fresher than Josh. Ron took over the pace, Mand falling in behind with Josh.

Luckily the rest of the race were more intent on climbing than attacking at this point and we made contact as we lost a couple of percentage points of gradient. Thank the heavens for that.
 
“How’re you doing?” I asked of Josh.
"Coulda done without that like.”
"Yeah,” I agreed.
"You still on plan A, man?”
“How’re you fixed?”
"Be nice to have some help,” he allowed.
"Innerthausen?”
"If he’s game like.”
"If he is, top ramp?”
"Aye, princess.”

We won’t have as much leeway over the top but it’s either this or leave it next time round and just a dozen kilometres to play with and possibly no stepping stones.
 
The gangly German was holding station near the front of the peloton.
"Trouble, Bondt?”
"Puncture,” I allowed, "Next ramp if you’re interested.”

He signalled confirmation with a finger wave from the bars – no sense alerting everyone else with vocals. I let some other bikes come between us but maintained a near front location, the rest of the sky blue jerseys soon joining me.

"We on?” Mand asked quietly.
"You got any water, I'm out,” I loudly enquired in German rather than our race usual English.
“Out ‘till the feed,” she hammed back.

Pretty standard stuff unless you looked at our bidons, the message was however passed, my lieutenants forewarned and armed.

I made a quick assessment of the opposition, a couple of handyish riders from the League, Paul of course but the bulk are more local. This is about the pinnacle of Rheinland Pfalz junior racing – the bulk being short circuit things and crits – one reason we don’t ride locally that much. If we can make a clean break I think we might get away with it, well fingers and toes crossed.
 
We crawled up towards the Hohe, I dampened my airways from my bidon, we’re all set. Although the track twists about a fair bit none of the corners are that tight so the ramp is visible some distance before it kicks up, around me riders were already changing gears some two hundred metres away. I moved a little sidewise to give me a clear escape route but stayed seated for now.

There’s a crucial point on any climb where you have to commit to how you are going to tackle it, sit and winch up or hit it like a top and hope you can make the top before blowing. Oh of course on those long alpine things you can power along the low grades and just leave the saddle for short sharp inclines but today the crucial bit is under two K.

The peloton started to slow, any moment now it’s commit or abandon. Just as I was about to stall Josh launched, a moment later Paul followed with me taking the opposite side of the roadway. Of course there was the usual complaining and crunching of gears but the shortest of glances under my arm revealed a clean escape.

Josh heaved his high gear round, Paul in close attendance then as the road turned I crossed over to make it three. My team mate started to tire and Innerthausen took on the pace, Josh gamely staying alongside for as long as he could.

"Soz, man, I'm done like.”
Damn, "See you at the finish, yeah?”
"Aye,” he agreed.
“Later, English,” Paul added as Josh slipped back.
I moved up to take my turn on the front.
“Just the two of us, eh?”
"It’s only thirty K,” I got out between breaths.
“Less talking then, eh.”
 
I had a good cadence going, Paul was matching me stroke for stroke, sharing the pace setting as we stretched the elastic to the following pack. As the grade eased over the top I snicked up a gear and raised the tempo; if we are going to make this stick we need as much over the top as possible. We were almost sprinting at the summit and as we started the descent I caught sight of Tal and Gret ahead of us – at least something’s still going to plan.

There was no time to sit back, we don’t have much in hand and the girls won’t be much help for long I don’t think. Back in the big ‘ring, I led the charge off the hill, closing the gap to the leaders quicker than I'd expected. In fact we made contact as we hit the drag and where if it had been anyone else I’d’ve accelerated past, well we needed the girls today.

"What took you,” Gret queried as we matched velocity.
"Where’s Joshy?”
"Couldn’t make it but we’re here.” I gasped out.
"This gossip is very nice,” Paul stated, "But shouldn’t we get on with racing?”
“Must we?” Gret pretended to complain.
“Let’s get on then,” Tali suggested, "We’ve got about a minute.”
Dang, I'd hoped for more.
 
We started a rotation but it was clear the girls wouldn’t be making a big contribution to our progress. At a minute we’d be in clear view of the following peloton, hopefully Mand and Ron can contain things – maybe even Josh if he didn’t get spat straight out the back. After what seemed an age we hit the crest and the feed zone came into view, phew, hope there’s flapjack in there this week.

Musettes were offered and collected, each redistributing as we passed the grandstands to where Dad was stationed. If he was surprised by Josh’s absence he didn’t show it.

“Keep it steady,” was all he offered.
Steady he says.

We returned to a fast rotation and unlike when Gret and Tal were in view last time round, the reduced distance back to the bunch actually worked for us keeping us hidden and less of a target. The slightly sticky orange flavoured bottle contents weren’t what I expected, more like weak Lucozade than squash. I wolfed my way through the half banana but took a little longer with the flapjack, with luck I should be energised for the last Hohe Acht ascent.

“Let’s rock and roll!” I enthused.

Gret’s strained expression didn’t show much enthusiasm for another lap, just how much longer can she – or Tali hang in? I checked out the other member of our party, he’s filled out from when we met in Switzerland and despite the efforts of the last few kilometres he still looked quite fresh. I'll tackle that later, for now we need to keep riding.

Maddy Bell © 11.03.17