“What’re you up to Gab?” Claire enquired.

We’d settled down in some comfy chairs after dinner, the entertainment options being the Xbox™ thingy or dire TV – just hanging out was about the only other option.

“Just sending an SMS.”
“She’ll be on with Maxxie,” Mand crowed.
“Am not.”
“money on it, lets see?”
“No, its not to Max, I’m just telling Con about San Seb.”

I wasn’t fibbing, this message is to Con, the last one however was to Max but I’m not going to admit that am I?

“Not much to tell,” Gret opined.
“What were you expecting then?” Geth queried.
“A bit more than nothing.”
“Blackpool it isn’t,” Laura put in.
I pressed ‘send’ and returned my attention to the conversation, “so Mikel, you got a girlfriend?” not that it bothers me but its conversation right?
“Girlfriend?”
“Someone special,” Laura hinted.
“I have many friends, they are all special,” Mikel told us.
“I reckon you’ve got some admirers Mik,” Daz chuckled.
“Maybe,” the Spaniard agreed.
“You stirrer Darren Fox,” Sal accused.
“Just saying what I see.”
“I can see someone getting a thump man,” Josh mentioned.
“So do we stay in the same hotel all the race?” Claire posed.
“Dunno,” I admitted.
“It better not be some dingy B&B,” Geth stated.
“That would be like the pits,” Josh agreed.
“Well I’m going to bed,” I offered as I extricated myself from the soft upholstery.
“Its only half nine,” Tal pointed out.
“Some of us need our beauty sleep,” I suggested.
“Not you Gabs, you’ve had enough,” Lor giggled.
“Huh, well even celestial beauty needs a top up.”

I slept like the proverbial log, maybe it was the ride, maybe the heat but whatever I didn’t hear Mand come back and next thing its morning, my alarm jiggling away by my head.

“Urgh! It can’t be that time,” Mand complained.
I double checked with my watch, “’fraid so, up and at em!”
“Twirly,” she muttered pulling a pillow over her head.

Well at least I get first dibs on the bathroom.

“Er where do you want the laundry Angela?”
“Just in the basket Gab,” she replied without turning from filling bidons.
“’kay,” I dropped the bag of stuff into the laundry basket.
“You might as well take these,” she told me now turning around.
“Er sure.”
“How much?” she exclaimed seeing my laundry.
“Too much?”
“No you’re alright, I just wasn’t expecting half your suitcase.”
“Sorry, its this heat, you know, makes everything icky.”
“Yeah I know, get on before I change my mind.”
“Thanks Angela!”

I did feel a little guilty at dumping my washing on someone else, we each do our own at home but this isn’t home and the facilities for laundry are limited. So instead of rinsing stuff out in the bathroom and hoping it dries the chance for a proper wash is too good to pass up. In theory I shan’t need to worry about washing stuff for the rest of the trip either as I’ll have three days extra clean stuff – a win, win.

“Okay guys, settle down,” Dad started, “two groups today, Apollinaris and BC, my lot you get an extra ten minutes, so the rest of you follow Senor Lamba out of town see you later.”

The Schauff sponsored lot set off and Dad turned to address the rest of us.

“Right guys and gals, this isn’t a race, I don’t want you catching the others, we will do some race exercises but we’ll start with a steady few kilometres to warn up eh.”
“We’re already warm like Mr B,” Josh suggested.
“Thank you for that insight Mr Waugh, right, once we’ve cleared Lezo I’ll drop behind, Josh, road captain. Okay lets get organised.”

We set off a couple of minutes later following the BMW through streets already several hours into their daily baking. A little out of town Dad pulled over and we took the lead as the road tilted upwards towards some woodland high above us. Climbing from the start of a ride is never fun and stuff you should sail up becomes a veritable Everest both mentally and physically.

As such it was no surprise that I was soon surrounded by panting, heaving bodies dragging themselves up the fairly benign gradient. Not that I was doing any better of course, I’m not Super Girl or anything and maybe that extra yoghurt wasn’t such a bright idea, a sour taste hovering in my throat. Up into the trees and their welcome shade and the road got steeper, aargh!

The computer suggested we may as well walk, well not quite but it wasn’t showing much above ten kph and that was before we reached the first hairpin. By now we were of course spread out somewhat, we might not be giving it any but we still have different climbing abilities. We twisted further through the woodland, looking off to the right, well down, our upward route peeked through the trees but not for long before another, flatter hairpin set us back in the other direction.

Thankfully the gradient started to ease and I for one started to get my second breath allowing me to start tapping out a smoother, faster cadence. Then, after another little kick around a bend, ahead of us, the end of the trees was heralded by a stupidly bright lump of light. I checked for the others and eased back a bit to allow everyone to come back together, Josh and Daz were bringing up the rear maybe fifty metres back just ahead of Dad and Darren in the Beemer.

Back together we left the forest, replacing trees for rocky scrub, the road still climbing ahead of us with no clear summit apparent.

“Okay folks, ten second sprints from the back,” Dad called out.

Oh joy. Its a simple enough exercise but harder than you might think, in essence, starting at the back of the group you go hell for leather for ten seconds then sit up to rejoin the bunch at the front. You might recognise the tactic as something I’ve done a time or two but there’s no harm in brushing up the ol’ skills.

With Josh as Road Captain calling us out we went through five reps which took us across several kilometres of rolling scrubland. Our leader was called back to the car for more instruction as we rolled along, catching occasional glimpses of the Océano Atlántico to our left and ahead. Josh was no sooner back with us before we started to descend more solidly, a fast, open descent with some steep ramps notching the speed up towards the fifty kph mark.

The first hairpin had us scrubbing a lot of that speed off, someone managed to lock their back wheel, the unmistakable sound of sliding on gravel was happily not followed by more than “shi-it!” being uttered. A couple more tight corners and then a straight heading steeply towards a village.

“Which way?” I shouted back as a roundabout came into view.
“Right,” Josh called back.

This time it was my turn to nearly lose it as I carried a bit too much speed into the turn. Yeah I know, but I get a bit carried away sometimes, a bit too pumped, anyhow I slowed enough to bunny hop across the small island on the exit much to the bemusement of the postman on his moped I almost ran into. Definitely one of those heart stopping moments, by the time I’d recovered myself the others were past and I had to sprint to get onto the back.

We skirted the village, the road still heading downhill through another island after which we came up behind a truck pulling out of a factory unit. Ahead of us was, I guess, San Seb airport and beyond it a body of water and what I’d guess is France. There wasn’t a lot of traffic but enough to keep our speed in check until we picked up the wider, faster road towards San Sebastián.

We started a rotation and picked the speed up along the well surfaced road, a chance however to hit the pocket food and bidons. There were only a few kilometres on the fast road before a sign for Lezo directed us onto a quieter road. it climbed steadily towards our base through Sagasti before a short drop back into Lezo where we turned up to go past the hotel.

Of course this time we knew where we were going and what lay ahead of us, not only that but we were fully warmed up which contributed to a higher speed into the climb.

“Keep it steady Gab,” Josh instructed as I settled into my climbing head.

I raised a hand in acknowledgement and resisted the temptation to attack the grades. I tapped out a steady cadence, hands on the tops, bum on the back of the saddle in a fairly low gear. Up into the trees, and after a quick out of saddle squiggle I found myself upping the speed very slightly, the benefit of the cooler, shaded road. Things seemed a bit quiet behind, well apart from the Bimmer, so as I made the first hairpin I took a look behind to discover the others all in line astern.

Well okay, Daz and Gret were looking a bit ragged but they were still there with determined expressions glued to their faces. I returned my attention to where we were headed, this is pretty cool stuff, this is what being part of a team is all about. Okay, I’ll admit that I dropped a sprocket and upped the pace a tad after the next turn, not to drop anyone, well not intentionally, but just because.

Once we were clear of the trees there was a toot from behind and the Toon dropped back for instruction. Gret had been tailed off a bit but soon rejoined us as we eased right down over the top.

“Gab,” Josh called out, “back to the car.”

What now? I sat up and dropped back to the car.

“Wassup?”
“Nothing kiddo,” Dad replied, “nice controlled climb.”
“I coulda gone harder.”
“Here,” he passed me a musette, “elevenses, there’s a time for burning everyone off, next time around eh, on with you, send Darren back please.”
“Sure.”

And so over the next couple of kilometres everyone got a bag of snacks, you know the sort of stuff, jam sarnies, dried fruit, fig biscuits, some of it went in pockets, as much was eaten there and then. Musettes were exchanged for fresh bidons, no we don’t chuck the used bottles, we have to recycle ours, anyhow by the time we started what I now thought of as airport hill we were all somewhat refreshed. Knowing the road, well to some extent meant fewer dodgy moments and although tight, I made that first turn off hard on Josh’s wheel.

Dad had us taking long turns on the front along the main road, you see this when you watch the big races, what you don’t see is how smashed you are afterwards! Anyhow once on the Lezo road again there was another Direktor / Captain conversation, I guess to set up lap three’s activities. As we dropped into the town Josh moved to the front so we’d all hear him.

“Free for all on the climb this time, regroup over the top, flag down when we leave town.”
“Bum,” Gret sighed.
“First one up buys the ice cream,” Tal proposed, safe I think, that it wouldn’t be her.
“Whatever,” I agreed as we negotiated a now busier Lezo town centre.

I contemplated my tactics as I took a slug of electrolyte laden liquid, the others will expect me to just take off as soon as the flag drops but that seems a bit of a waste of my energy, nah, something else this time. And so as we left the habitation I did nothing, well I kept riding obs but I just stayed where I was and waited. The status quo remained until the first steeper ramp, Josh powering up, Mand soon tagging in behind him.

“Thought,” gasp, “you’d be,” gasp, “up there,” Daz got out as I rode alongside him.
“I’ve not got any change for the Eis,” I told him.
“Don’t believe her,” Tal suggested breathing more evenly, “she’s up to something.”
“I’m wounded Schmidt.”
“Known you too long girlfriend!”

The breakaway wasn’t that far ahead, twenty, thirty metres maybe but moving slowly away. This will be down to timing as much as anything, holding my nerve until the right moment and not panicking. We climbed steadily through the fields, the gap increasing on every extra bit of gradient and not decreasing on flatter bits.

Up above, the trees promised shade but here the sun was beating down incessantly, a trickle of sweat dripped between the girls, by the top it’ll be a veritable river! As we turned, the sun went to our backs and I slipped my glasses off and into my helmet before checking my gearing. With about ten metres before we were plunged into the shade I dropped back before accelerating into the gloom.
 

Maddy Bell © 31.03.2018