*Chapter 22*
Class Act
We stood and watched as the stream of riders set off, old, young, men, a few women and almost exclusively on some sort of road bike.
"Bet some of those bikes cost more than your race bikes,” Dad suggested as an old chap teetered past on a pristine all Campag Colnago.
"Yeah,” I agreed, reminded as I was of some of the bikes that turned up at the Cuckney ten’s. I was probably as bad, I used to spend my winnings on the latest bits, new bar tape, a fancy saddle. Oh don’t think I paid for all my bikes, the Bank of Mum and Dad financed most of my kit, but I used to clean and polish that old bike after every ride, it really was my pride and joy.
Now of course I get to ride team bikes, they aren’t actually mine, I haven’t got the same investment in them, Dad cleans and maintains them, they regularly get new bar tape in ‘regulation’ sky blue – well you get the idea. But these guys setting off for their ride around the Eifel, riding and their bikes are as much their lives as professional racers. Wives, girlfriends, children and pets were cheering their own ‘heroes’ away, they might not be riding themselves but this is part of their lives too.
Which for ‘Connie’s Kiosk’ was an added bonus, by the time I'd made my way back there was already a bit of a queue of supporters in need of coffee, cola and even at this hour, cake. I wish we’d thought about this earlier, Eva’s sold a few crêpes, I bet we could’ve sold some Fruhstück sandwiches – next time.
"You girls okay?” Dad asked some twenty minutes after the last riders departed our tiny corner of Germany.
"Yeah I reckon so,” I allowed pausing from table wiping.
"Well in that case I'll get off, you got anything you need in the bus?”
"Going? I thought you were staying?”
"I was hoping to give the bus a clean up.”
"Oh,” I sagged some, “couldn’t it wait?”
"I found a pair of your knickers in the bedroom yesterday, well I presume they were yours.”
"Erm, possibly?” I allowed, "What if Max gave you a hand later?”
"What are you planning Gabrielle Bond? And don’t you think you should ask Max before volunteering his services?”
"Ask me what?” von Strechau junior enquired joining us.
"My daughter is volunteering you for cleaning the camper later.”
"Hmm,” my beau thought a moment, “reckon that’d be worth at least a roast dinner Herr Bond.”
"At least,” Dad agreed, "It is a big camper.”
"I can’t believe you traded cooking Sunday lunch just so we could change in here.” Con chuckled.
"They cornered me.”
"We could’ve changed in the kiosk.”
"You’ve got to be kidding,” I shot back.
"You do it when you come on your race bike,” she pointed out.
"That's different,” even in my muddled head I could see I was losing this argument.
So what’s all the fuss about? Well its something I've seen at several events here in Europe, they get some girls or women to wear local costumes to present the prizes. It adds a bit of colour and makes for more interesting pictures and Hen’s got a photographer covering the event – RTF riders like getting their pictures taken apparently.
So anyway, as we’ve already agreed to hand out the goody bags at the kiosk I thought we could do the Kostüm thing and give things a bit of razz. Hmm, I bet Mand’d go for this.
"Is that really necessary Spud,” Dad posited as I readjusted my blouse.
"Is what necessary?”
"Showing quite so much, er chest?”
"These little ole things?” I teased, "Its how you wear it.”
"I don’t recall you having quite so much in that department earlier.”
I had debated whether to wear the Unterbrusthalter or not, I guess vanity won out over, er propriety and anyway we do wear them at the Stube although I guess our uniform Dirndls are a bit less, um, in your face. Anyhow, I'm dressed now and I think I, we look the business.
By mid morning the fastest of the short route riders were starting to arrive and the kiosk team prepared for action. All the riders get either a crêpe or frikadel with either a bottle of water or beer, fries, coffee etc. they pay for. The Foch’s and the kiosk get paid by the event for doing this, a discount rate of course but its worth doing for the add on sales.
You wouldn’t think handing out bags could be so tiring but by lunchtime we were both suffering from sore feet and sore faces from the continuous smiling.
"You okay for a few?” I asked Con when there was a bit of a lull in returning rider traffic, "I need the lav.”
"Don’t be too long eh?”
"I'll be straight back.”
It was even just a relief to walk a bit, I headed around the back to our loo, there’s not one in the kiosk, instead we have a deluxe portaloo type thing, not brilliant but better than traipsing over to the Bahnhof all the time.
"How’s it going?” I enquired at the crêpe trailer.
"Not too bad,” Eva allowed.
"Think about half of them are back so far,” I offered.
"So what’s with the fancy dress Gab?” Christina asked.
"Thought the riders’d like a bit of local colour, the tourists at the Stube like it so I thought why not.”
"The Stube in Rech?” Eva asked.
"You know it? At the Sebenschuh vineyard?”
"Never been,” Eva admitted.
"As in Pia Sebenschuh?” Chris queried.
"Its her parents place, a couple of us wait there from time to time,” I told them.
"You wear Kostüm to serve?”
"Like I said, the touristo’s seem to like it.”
"Maybe we should try it at Der Mühle.”
"I am so not wearing that stuff,” Chris stated.
"Gaby and her friend look so nice,” Eva proffered.
"See what you’ve started now Gab.”
"I'll er just go to the lav,” I mouthed slipping away.
It was nearly half two when Hen appeared.
"The last few are on their way in.”
"That's not bad,” I suggested.
He shrugged, "Its not a race, we had a couple last year finish close on four.”
"Bummer,” Con opined.
"So how have things been at this end? Like the dresses by the way.”
"I've never posed for so many pictures,” Con told him.
"Think its gone quite well, you want a drink?”
"A coffee would go down a treat thanks Gaby.”
"I'll get it Hen,” Con offered – any chance to escape the carrier bags.
"Nearly forgot,” Hen started, "We all meet in The Anker later, few drinks, Freddy’s putting some food on for us, unwind after the event like, you’re all invited.”
"Er thanks, not sure what people are doing but I'll let them know.”
"Your Dad not around?”
"He’s taken the bus and my boyfriend,” I'm getting used to saying that, “up to the car wash.”
Con returned with Hen’s coffee, "Here you go.”
"Thanks, I'd best check what my crew are up to, if I don’t see you before I'll catch you later.”
"Later?” she enquired after Hen had departed.
"Hen’s invited us all to the post event bun fight over in The Anker.”
"Bun fight?”
"You know, food and drink? Its a cycling tradition.”
"What? Everyone?”
"Not all together, we usually stop along the road somewhere.”
“’Kay,” Con allowed.
A rumble from below my dirndl hinted at a growing need to eat.
"Not sure I can wait to eat.”
"You had that Nutella® crêpe earlier.”
"Half,” I pointed out, "Max nicked the rest when we had the busy bit.”
"You and your stomach.”
With Nena, Kristen and for some of the time Max we’d mostly kept things under control around the kiosk. However it still took us until after four to get the place cleaned up, litter picked, crockery washed, tables and chairs locked up. Eva needed to get back to Ahrweiler to prepare for Saturday night at Der Mühle so once Con and I had changed and the kiosk was shut up the remaining six of us walked across the bridge to The Anker.
"Before you all start disappearing,” Hen called over the hubbub on the Anker’s terrace. We aren’t a huge group, thirty tops, things quieted down surprisingly quickly, "Firstly I'd like to thank you all for your time and efforts today, I know I had to do a bit of arm twisting with one or two of you, I and I'm sure the riders really do appreciate it, I think you’ll all agree its been a good day, the weather held for us and we’ve had no problems out on the roads.”
He paused before going on, "Some of you will be aware that it nearly didn’t happen this year, some long term supporters withdrew at fairly short notice, by chance I stopped across the river here for coffee after a training ride. The rest as they say is history, young Gaby over there,” he waved in my general direction, "Offered to help and not only did the girls act as event HQ but she got the crepe trailer to come along and her father offered to come along to do pre ride bike checks. Dave, girls, we couldn’t’ve done it without you.”
Embarrassingly the Wielersport people cheered and clapped.
"Lastly, thanks for the spread Freddy, mine’s a Weisbier!”
That gained some ribald comments before conversation returned to the general chatter that preceded Hen’s short speech.
Its always a bit awkward when you aren’t really part of the main group but after some initial awkwardness helped in part by Sabine actually being Kristen’s cousin or something, Max knowing someone else in the Wielersport – well by the time things really started to break up we were all getting along like the proverbial house on fire.
"Thanks again everyone,” Hen mentioned as the bulk of us got ready to depart.
"I think everyone’s enjoyed it,” Dad suggested.
"You guys really did make the difference, I spoke to a few of the riders, they’re already making plans to ride next year.”
"Apollinaris are keen to be involved Hen, they don’t want to take over but a bit of support with printing and stuff, few banners and so on,” Dad hinted.
"I'll make sure you’re on the list when we start planning in the autumn. Well I'll let you get on, enjoy what’s left of the day, I think some of my lot’ll be here for the duration.”
Outside Kris headed off through the town towards Chez Jägger while the rest of us headed back over to where the camper was parked.
"Four o’clock,” Max confirmed.
"If you want to eat,” I advised.
"See you tomorrow, tschuss!”
"Night,” I allowed as he headed for the mofa.
"I'll say this Gaby Bond, when you decide on something you go full steam,” Nena stated.
"Oh yeah, its gone from the ice maiden to lovesick puppy,” Con added.
"And there I was, just about to invite you to dinner too,” I mock huffed.
"Don’t listen to her girls,” Dad interrupted, "You’re both invited, Kris too if she wants to come.”
"Hey! who’s cooking this dinner?”
"You are!” the three of them chorused.
“Just checking,” I piously stated.
Maddy Bell © 15.05.17
