Gaby Book 28  Balancing Trick by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2023 Madeline Bell

I kept my head down as the road followed the waters edge and under the big viaduct I first encountered on Friday. There’s no point in worrying about what’s going on behind, I can’t change anything there, only my team mates can do that on my behalf, I hope. The road was quite wet along this bit, several stretches almost flooded but only by a couple of centimetres at most.

A slight rise to join the Spandau road meant a drier surface although there were a few bits of washout I had to swerve to avoid. I suppose I was a bit concerned that the usual convention with the service didn’t seem to be happening, I’m pretty sure I’ve got more than thirty seconds on the peloton.

At this point I should point out that its not a closed road event, in reality we get very few of those, no it’s a rolling closure, the Polizei stop the traffic, clear junctions and generally try to give the race and its convoy an unimpeded journey. Its a little more complicated today as we are racing in two Police authorities, Berlin and Brandenburg but you’d hardly know. The main thing as far as racing goes is that we have to obey the general rules of the road, ride on the right, obey road signs, you know the stuff, in theory other traffic should stop until we pass, in practice that doesn’t always happen.

The road went from asphalt to concrete as I followed the lead car into Spandau, it dries quickly but the joints are a pain, especially like here where the pads are quite small, maybe five metres between joins. Back in England the Tuxford ten course I used to ride had several miles of concrete but each pad was much bigger, maybe twenty five metres long – and the joins smoother. It was a combination of the road surface and the open road that were nearly my undoing.

After the first joint nearly unseated me, I moved my hands to the hoods for more stability and control, a bit slower but much safer. My concentration was on avoiding any big cracks or changes in height, hitting an edge could mean a puncture, wheel damage or an off, none of which were in my plans for the day. One minute the road between me and the lead car was empty, the next there was an ageing Opel Kadett just metres away.

Worse still, I was travelling some kph faster than the battered Omamobil, not only that but there was a bus heading towards us in the other lane. I’ve had close calls with motorised traffic before, its almost inevitable if you ride a bike on the public roads, bikes and their riders never come off very well in the exchange. There was a gap, a tiny gap, as long as nothing changed trajectory I might just make it, I think I might have closed my eyes.

I heard a screech of brakes a moment before a blast of car horn rent the air, I think my hand hit the car’s mirror on the way through, it certainly stung! I looked behind to see what was going on, not that there was much I could do, the car was now stopped and yep, the drivers mirror was hanging limply from the door. A quick check of my hand, well it was all working so I don’t think anything is broken.

Of course, all of this happened in mere seconds, as everything was still working I returned my attention to the job in hand. At least the Polizei had a firmer grip on the traffic at the next junction where I was able to swing straight through to the far lane taking a line not many bikes get the chance to use. I hadn’t picked up on it earlier but now, on the bike, I recognised this as the road we used to get to Spandau on Fridays sojourne, so over the river and then left at the lights.

There were a few spectators who cheered as I went through the turn and started the run back to Potsdam. This was indeed the way we came the other night, if my memory serves, the surface is quite good, at least on the bit we used to that Kladow place. What with the near collision and negotiating down town Spandau I’d forgotten about the race behind, that is until the neutral service and floating commisar came up behind as I crossed the next major junction.

At least I now knew I had a reasonable gap but can I hold onto it for the twenty five kilometres to Sanssouci? Once on the finishing circuit, well its less than fifteen to the finish line which apparently is right by the Sanssouci Palace, I’ll need a reasonable lead but I reckon its doable. I got back into aero mode and concentrated on going fast.
 

"Geez, where the hell did she go?” Daz exclaimed.
"Dunno how she does it but I wish I had some,” Gret lamented.

Gaby’s escape hadn’t gone unchallenged, the rest of the Apollinaris squad had however successfully quelled each counterattack on the drag past the tower, once over the crest the Weltmeisterin had seemingly just vanished. Not literally of course, but the nature of the descent gave a solo rider the advantage and the road since then had just enough turns that a lead of more than about two hundred metres would keep her out of sight from the pursuers. The last time they’d got any inkling of where she was was just after that big viaduct, they’d caught a brief glimpse of the flashing light on the lead car.

"We still need to keep the lid on this lot,” Josh mentioned, tilting his head towards the small group of rather insistent chasers just ahead of the three of them.
"I hope the others get back on,” Gret opined.

It had happened almost at the bottom of the descent, they’d crossed a patch of washout and next thing Mand had her arm raised for service. Tali stopped with her on the basis that its much easier for two to chase than one, hopefully they hadn’t lost them both to the cause.

"Just have ta give them a chance hen,” Captain Waugh replied.
"Draw a bit more sting?” Daz suggested.
"Its a risky tactic but aye, that corner in the town if you’re up for it Daz?”
"Okay.”
"What about me?” Gret asked.
"Play anchor, I’ll cover any counters.”

It all seemed a bit convoluted, launch an attack to slow things down, an attack on your own team mates lead at that. It could go badly wrong, on the other hand, if it worked they’d be five rather than three trying to control things.
 
Considering the wet earlier, the weather was now quite benign as Gab churned the pedals around towards Potsdam. It wasn’t hot like yesterday but it was quite warm and what little wind there was sat on her left shoulder. The roads were pretty much dry now, only the odd puddle or bit of curb side damp remained as a reminder of the earlier damp.

The Commisars motorbike came alongside with a time check as Gab passed the Gatow board.

P @ 1’57”

‘Hmm, bout flippin’ time’, she gave a nod and the bike dropped back.

‘Call it two minutes, not bad but is it enough?’ In these circumstances its difficult not to start running the figures, Mum and Dad would both tell her to concentrate on her effort but that’s easier said than done. ‘So there’s what, about fifty K to go, give or take, so if my lead bleeds at more than two seconds a kilometre I’m doomed.

Guess I need to stretch it out a bit more, the road’s not bad until after that Kladow place, I probably won’t gain anything on that climb through the woods though, time to knuckle under Gaby Bond!’
 
She dug in her pocket for a lump of Sonja Luchow’s flapjack, then after putting the calories in took another tug from her bidon to wash it down. Little and often was the mantra but how little and how often? Last week in Belgium the road was either going up or down, today’s more rolling terrain was a lot more conducive to time trialling and she was able to power along in the twelve sprocket at a goodly lick.

When she reached it, the Kladow climb seemed somewhat less than she remembered from their drive round earlier, a steady ramp rather than a steep incline although on the approach it did look like a veritable wall. One click of the gear shift kept her cadence steady as she passed a small group of club riders cheering her on just before the ‘summit’, well it was the effective top of the climb even if the road beyond still had an upward tilt despite looking flat.

She returned the chain to the twelve sprocket and pushed on. One moment she was keeping clear of the cars parked on the street, the next the surface changed to smoother, new tarmac, the road narrowed and cars were replaced by trees. Dieter had said something earlier about the old East / West border, that must’ve been it, from the former West Berlin back into Brandenburg.

The surface was great but it was still quite wet from the earlier rain, not in puddles rather the water sort of sat in the surface in places which then sprayed her feet as she rode over. And the road twisted about a fair bit too, no long straights as one turn blurred into the next. That would slow the bunch behind a bit but on her own she was free to choose her own line given the absence of any other traffic.

Past the entrance to some sort of sdhloss then it was a feeling through the pedals more than anything visible that suggested a downward tilt, click, time for the eleven! It didn’t last long, a short drop before running alongside what looked like the lake again, then it was a return to a false flat as the trees fell away to be replaced by derelict farmland, tall grasses surrounded by rusting wire fences. Not that she was exactly sightseeing of course. The surface became a bit more agricultural as the race entered a bit of a village, then they rejoined, if the signs were anything to go by, the main road into Potsdam.

It was a good road surface and after some damp on a short rise through some trees, dry and fast. The motorbike came back up with another time check.

5@ 1’53”
P@ 2’05”

‘Hmm, I’ve not gained anything but a loss of four seconds is nothing, but who are the chasers and do I need to worry?’

I was nearly caught unaware moments later when I was confronted by Polizei shouting and waving at me to go right. Oops. I dabbed the brakes and made the turn onto a wide boulevard that immediately took me into some dense woodland. Wow, I’m closer to the circuit than I thought, along this road for a bit and I’m there.

Out of the trees and the road stretched away dead straight, Dieter reckoned it was well over a kilometre, so if the chasers are two minutes ish back, I’ll just about be in sight still when they get where I am now. No point dwelling on it Bond, just get on with it.
 

‘The problem.’ Josh thought to himself, ‘with fancy plans is that they can go too right as well as very wrong.’ The sort of false counter attack he and Daz had made back in Spandau was supposed to slow the race down, on that score it had kind of worked. The problem was that it then encouraged a pursuit, a real pursuit by several of the opposition which had taken quite an effort to get onto.

So now here he was, in a chasing group of five doing his best not to contribute in chasing Gab down. Behind, the rest of the peloton were adrift by what looked to be about ten seconds, there were Apollinaris jerseys near the front but the team was now playing a sort of double jeopardy. There had been one stretch before they joined this main road when he thought he saw Ms Bond away in the distance, did she have enough gap, would all this effort be for nought?
 
The fields ended to be replaced with more trees, more open this time with some large houses set amongst the foliage. Not that Gaby was particularly interested beyond looking out for a newer housing estate that marked the final approach to the Sansoucci circuit and the feed zone. The road was no longer straight now, taking on a more sinuous route through long bends that restricted the line of sight to two hundred metres or less. At least the chasers wouldn’t see her so readily now, with any luck she was out of sight, out of mind, maybe.

There it was, not far now. Not far but it seemed to take an age to reach the junction even if it was only about a minute. She dropped a sprocket to go into the turn and stood on the pedals to power up the slight incline up to the park gate the race would exit twice before the finale. At the feed zone Dieter held a musette out, it wouldn’t contain much, a bottle and a gel most likely.

She grabbed the bag and sat up to transfer the contents to her bike and pockets, discarding the empties on the verge just before the gates. Time to get back to it, a quick draw on the fresh bidon and she was back in a tuck, elbows in, forearms resting across the bar tops leaving her hands free for the brakes and gears. The gardens and palaces of Sansoucci are of course of world renown but Gab had no time for sightseeing today.

It was back into the eleven as the wide road dropped straight through the parkland and into some more formal gardens. Since they’d come through earlier, the verges had sprouted barriers and a finish arch straddled the carriageway. The MC was doing his best to rouse the small crowd, at least he wasn’t fighting the elements now.

The crowd cheered, the ‘uplifting’ music boomed and Gaby was through, two laps of six kilometre to go. Left past the windmill then a sweeping drop past the Sansoucci Palace itself. Another junction had the little convoy heading for the town centre, in no time they were passing the start point at the Brandenburger Tor.

A stretch of dual carriageway took her away from the centre for a bit before they turned onto a side street, well more of a slide than an actual turn. Having not been on this part of the circuit Gab was a bit surprised when the entourage went into what looked like and indeed was, a bus terminus thingy. The reason became clear as they returned to the actual road, the little detour had avoided crossing some tram tracks that sliced the road at about forty five degrees.

It seemed that no sooner than they were back on the road than they were making another right back into the Royal parks. Gone was the tarmac replaced by compacted gravel which sucked speed from the bike almost immediately. On the plus side, the surface was at least mostly dry, it would’ve been horrendous in the wet a couple of hours ago.

No point in mashing a big gear, she dropped to the middle of the cassette and hoped it was enough. Things got a bit better and less sludgy under wheel when she broke clear of the trees and as they crossed the front of the Neues Palace she changed back up a gear. Well that was until the roadway started to climb what looked to be a decent hill but it remained quite firm so progress was quite good.

She took a look back as the roadway reached a slight crest, there, back in front of the Neues Palace were the chasers. If she could see them, they could see her.
 

Josh looked over the heads of his companions, up the seemingly never ending strip of gravel. The flashing light of the lead car was clear to see as it seemed to crawl up the incline ahead and whilst he couldn’t pick her out, somewhere where the motorbikes were would be Gabrielle Bond. If he could see her, so could the others with him. A glance at his comp gave him a start to do a time check, go on Gab!

The chasers still didn’t have much over the main bunch, it felt like they’d taken a few extra seconds on the first trip through the town but they hadn’t had a time check so it was purely guesswork.
 

"What do you reckon Mand?” Daz asked his teamate.
"We need to stay on top of this lot, a determined rider could make it across still.”
"They’d need to be pretty good,” Tal opined from behind them.
"You know what Herr Bond says,” Mand replied, "Expect the unexpected.”
"I guess,” the other girl allowed.
"Perhaps we should try a double double bluff,” Daz suggested.
"Such as?”
"Well, launch a pre-emptive strike, take their sting.”
"You’ve been listening to the Bond’s too much,” Tali suggested.
"It does have some appeal,” Mand allowed.
"When?” Tal asked with a sigh, "I’ll let Gret know whats going down.”
"Strike while the irons hot?” Daz suggested.
"It looks like it opens out just up there,” Mand proposed.

Today’s race seemed to be risky move after risky move Daz thought as Tali slipped away to their fourth rider and Manda readied herself for the latest bit of daft. The peloton was certainly restless, there’d already been a touch of wheels when they turned into the park, something was likely to snap and soon.

It was a pretty standard tactic but nonetheless it worked most of the time, one rider feints whilst the main protagonist waits, only going when their team mate sits up. Then it was on. Mand went from about sixth wheel, wide on the expansive driveway. There was maybe two seconds before the response, a surge of action from the front chasing de Vreen down.

Daz stayed in the wheels, following the action without actually contributing anything. Then it was over, Mand was swamped by the chasers, time for part two. A click of the gears and he was off, out of the saddle, sprinting up the inside as if his life depended on it.
 

‘two minutes – ish’, Josh mused as the chasers crested the rise, ‘tight for anyone but should be enough for Bond.’

He took a look behind, ‘sugar!’
 

Back out on the tarmac, Gab took a swig from her bottle before winding up the gears again and getting herself aero. Her tyres quickly changed colour as they shed the dirt from the gravel path, some damp on the road hastening the process as the finish line once again came into view. In the ten minutes or so the lap had taken, the crowd seemed to have at least doubled and the MC was talking up a storm.

"Go on Gaby!” Sonja yelled as she approached the line, others shouted stuff too but that was drowned out by the enthusiastic ringing oh the lap to go bell.

She kept the pressure on through the windmill turn, running out of gears on the sweeping right hander below the Schloss. It seemed further back into the town this time for some reason then there was the gate, the five kilometre to go board and the sharp right hander onto the dual carriageway. At least she was expecting the next turn this time which meant she could keep going full gas onto the smaller street.

With under ten minutes of racing left she knew she could do it, thing was, what about those behind? If they caught up to her would they, or she have anything left to contest a sprint? It was close last week, the climb of the Mur just giving her the edge, today though, well its a kilometre virtually straight downhill to the line, time enough to rest a little before the finale.

Another quick look behind didn’t reveal imminent danger of a catch so she notched things back slightly, no point in wasting energy.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023