You wouldn’t think it would take the peloton very long to close the small distance that me and Daz had opened once we sat up but seeing us desist they’d clearly done the same. That left us dangling out front for another kilometre or so, I had half a mind to go for it but I promised Dad not to do anything too rash today. Eventually though Curly’s lot went through and the pair of us were able to slot back into the bunch somewhere around fiftieth wheel.

Tal slipped back to us, casually giving me her wheel.

“Josh says to move up a bit then sit in to rest,” she offered over her shoulder.
“Did it work?”
“Think so, they’d just about got organised when you sat up.”
“Neat,” I allowed.

In case you haven’t worked it out we’re trying to get Curly and co to do all the work today, tire them out in advance of tomorrows Queen stage. I know Geth is up the road but that gives the BC lot an excuse not to work and likewise with me an’ Daz’s feint. Unless the front lot get more than about five minutes on us I only need to finish with Curly to stay in green.

We negotiated another roundabout and after a twiddly transit of the village arrived into the feed zone. I spotted Angela with an armful of musettes and prepared to make my grab.

“Four minutes!” she yelled as I took my lunch.
“Cheers!”

Four minutes, that could be doable if they keep working although anything could happen in seventy kilometres. I transferred my supplies, Tal collected musettes from the rest of us and did the drop, as Dad says, it lowers the risk. There was an unofficial truce over the next kilometre as food was consumed, it really isn’t very sporting to attack over lunch.
 
We turned off the main road and there ahead of was a huge lump of hill, it looked big enough now and we’re, i’m guessing, at least twenty K away.

“What’s the betting we have to go over that,” Mand complained.
“Either over or under,” I agreed.
Josh dropped into the conversation, “’bout forty K downhill to the finish from the top like.”
“We should smash this lot on the way up,” Gret suggested.

I’d been thinking the same.

“Mr B wants us fresh for tomorrow so we sit in.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” Tal sighed.
“We could be in trouble if they ever get properly organised.”
“Aye lass,” Josh agreed, “if they got organised.”
 
The road wasn’t climbing steadily, rather it was bouncing its way upward, a few metres here, more there, often dropping to wipe out some of the previous altitude gains. Sometimes the grade reached double figures but never for long, just long enough to start shedding a few back markers. As the distance ticked by the bulk of the ‘mountain’ fell from sight, instead all we could now see was folds of hillside from horizon to horizon.

I’m pretty sure the main players were expecting a repeat of yesterdays power climbing but we stayed our ground, sat something like twentieth wheel. The road was flanked with stony fields but now, higher up, the hillsides were wooded, not that it looked like the road would gain any shelter anytime soon. Yeah, the sun was doing a fair job of cooking us today and despite the sunblock I could feel my exposed bits crisping.
We went through a junction onto a slightly more ‘main’ road and there ahead of us a village crowded the hillside and above it, a ribbon of tarmac appearing to go vertically up a rocky defile.

“Bugger,” Daz suggested.
“They’ve got to be kidding,” Lor mentioned.
“There must be another road,” Jamie proposed in turn.

I wouldn’t bet on it. On the other hand, if the break still has four minutes they’d be on that I reckon and I can’t see anything up there. Despite looking pretty level it was quite a climb, a sticky climb up to the village, the board said ‘Cas. de Valdejasa’ and instead of taking the new bit of bypass we turned into the village itself. By the time we’d covered the couple a hundred metres to the village we were out of the saddle and straining up a silly slope.

Which is where it all went to pot. Someone ahead of me fluffed a gear change and suddenly there was shouting and bodies across the road, there was nowhere for me to go and I ended up semi wedged against a wall. I struggled to get a foot free then almost fell over as I dismounted, I just about stayed upright but then had to clamber through the bikes and bodies.

It took time to get past, then trying to get moving again on a bit of 15% incline is a challenge and where are the others? I finally got moving again, one amongst a trickle of riders now hoping to cut our losses. The turns in the village were disorientating, I was a bit surprised to be directed off to the right but as we exited the buildings we joined the new road and I got an eyefull of vertical climbing.
 
“What happened man?” Josh asked as I came up to him.
“Someone came down on that steep bit, had to stop and climb past.”
“Amateurs! Your man is up ahead somewhere.”
“Any more of ours up here?”
“Mikel and Jamie,” he glanced behind us, “looks like a couple of the others are through, you want to wait?”

I quickly ran things through my head, more bodies will make a chase easier but on the other hand waiting for them will open up a bigger deficit to close.

“Don’t think we can afford to.”
“Agreed, they’ll come up if they can, so lets get to it.”

The vertical tarmac wasn’t of course, oh it was quite steep but nothing exceptional, it was just an optical thing that gave the impression of a wall. I slotted onto J’s wheel and we started to pick off the metres and eventually started to bring back some of the riders ahead of us. How far ahead Curly is I couldn’t say, a minute, two? Whatever his advantage its too much.
 
By the summit there was still no sign of Curly but a pair of Schauff jerseys were not that far ahead of us as we came under the banner. Sugar, I could lose everything here, the race lead and the mountains, the Spaniard only needs twenty seconds to take the former. I had been planning on being first in the bunch across the summit which would keep me in contention for the mountains but now, well I hope the judges can work it all out.

We dropped into some forest and the road this side started to bobble around both restricting our view and preventing us getting up too much speed. From two we became four and we charged pell mell down the mountainside in pursuit of our quarry. A quarry that we finally spotted once the road straightened and we emerged from the shadows back into bright sunlight.

Off in the distance a yellowy smog marked the location of Zaragoza still about twenty K distant. Curly only looked to have a couple of companions so we’d just got numerical advantage but on the other hand, at a guess they were a minute ahead of us. So much for preserving our energies for tomorrows climbs, well at least its downhill.
 
Josh quickly had us in a fast rotation, I say us, I was sat fourth wheel, its not that I couldn’t contribute but rather I’d be the ace in the hole if we get close enough to contest things. We were back into a land of stony fields now, the road almost straight which kept our carrot in almost constant view. It was difficult to tell if we were making much of an inroad on the deficit, I think we were closer but I couldn’t be sure.

The downhill ended, well temporarily, with a ramp up onto a dual carriageway, with the better road I pushed into the rotation and my head went back to time trials back in England. Yeah, there’s nothing quite like hammering along the A1, traffic at your elbow in pursuit of a PB. But back to today, we were hitting fifty K consistently until the surface deteriorated just before the five K flag.

Our quarry was still ahead of us, too far ahead and we’re running out of road. Jamie was starting to flag now, not that I was feeling that great after twenty odd kilometres of constant chasing. As we turned onto a wide avenue I judged our deficit at about forty seconds, not insurmountable in theory but here, today? It wasn’t much further on that our Scot blew and I resigned myself to losing the green leaders jersey.

The avenue seemed never ending but as we reached the one to go marker it ended and we continued on closer streets towards the finale. We made a turn and I could both see and hear the finish area, well nothing ventured as they say. I hit the turbo and sprinted ahead of my remaining companions, giving the last five hundred everything I had left.

Oh I was in no danger of catching Curly now but if I can keep the loss to a minimum all won’t be lost. Around a last traffic island and onto the bridge I could see the Spaniard crossing the line. The MC had the crowd whipped up and there was a big cheer as I came towards the line, I somehow got the turbo up to eleven, the red mist descended quickly but not fully until I’d thrown the bike over the line.
 
“You alright Gab?” Caro asked passing me a bottle of something wet as I sat on the curb getting my breath back.
I took a long pull before replying, “just about, not exactly to plan eh?”
“Geth got the stage.”
“Well at least something went right,” I allowed with a cough.
 
I was gobsmacked ten minutes later when they started the presentations, somehow I’m still in green! Oh my lead is somewhat more tenuous than this morning, seven seconds rather than twenty over Curly but even one second is enough. I have lost the mountains jersey, that’ll be resting on Geth's shoulders tomorrow, although we both have the same points he leads on countback.

“Really?”
“If you want to eat tonight kiddo,” Dad advised.
“urgh!” I allowed levering myself off the grass.

I gathered up my shoes and helmet and slipped an arm through Dad’s.

“Come on you,” he chuckled.
“So how come I didn’t get tested today?”
“They’re only doing stage winners and another three at random.”
“Really? Guess its better than nothing.”
“It all costs money kiddo,” he told me as we followed the rest to the side street where the team cars were parked.
“Doesn’t everything,” I sighed.
 
“Ouch!” I allowed as Kat touched my arm.
“You did put sunscreen on?” she enquired.

Yeah it took us a couple of hours to get back to Pamplona and we ate straight away, so here I am getting my massage at well past seven – no trips into town tonight.

“Yes.”
“Just checking, let me get some after sun on it.”
“Cheers.”
“Here we go, it’ll feel cold.”
“Yikes!” I nearly jumped off the table.
“I did warn you.”
“You said cold not freezing.”
“Semantics,” she told me as she smoothed the balm over each arm, “I’ll do your legs after the rub, they painful?”
“Not especially,” I allowed inspecting the almost glowing stripe around each thigh where my shorts stop.
“Right then, lets give these legs some relief.”
 
“What a day,” Mand pronounced as we lay on our beds, unable to sleep but too tired to do much else.
“Tell me about it, on second thoughts don’t.”
“Not looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Yeah, its a bit bogus all that climbing and no descent.”
“That is why they call it a mountain top finish,” she pointed out.
“I know, it just doesn’t seem fair.”
“At least you still have the green jersey.”
“Only just,” I retorted.
“Still got it.”
“But that means we have to defend it, Curly only needs a bit of luck and he’ll have it, its not like there’s much chance of getting it back on Saturday is there?”
“Yeah, whoever thought of finishing with a crit?”
 
Maddy Bell © 14.04.2018