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

 
There was no sign of the olds when we got back to Dernau but I guess it was still early really.

"So you gonna send that picture to Sophia then?” I asked as we climbed up into the house after parking the Mofas.
"No and don’t you dare!”
"Spoilsport,” I mumped.
"Just put the kettle on.”
"How small do you think I am?”
"Eh? What are you,” then the penny dropped, "Har, har.”
 

It was gone ten when my Handy trilled to advise that someone was trying to get hold of me.

"Hello.”
"Gaby?”
"Who else would it be Mum?”
"I dunno, you could’ve asked Manda to answer.”
She had a point, "I guess, so what’s up?”
"This meeting has got a bit involved kiddo, I don’t think we’ll be back before midnight.”
I sighed, "No pizza then?”
"Sorry kiddo.”
"We’ll live, so what’s so complicated about your race schedule?”
"Lets just say there are other issues.”
"George?”
"Look, we’ll bring you up to speed tomorrow, I need to get back but I thought we’d best let you know about the food, or lack thereof.”
"Okay,” by the tone of her voice, further conversation was not on the cards, "See you tomorrow then.”

"Everything okay?” Mand enquired when I ended the call, "Sounded a bit serious.”
"It is, the meeting’s still going on so no pizza.”
"That is serious,” she rolled her eyes, "Honestly Gab, you and your stomach.”
"Its a very nice stomach.”
"So what’s taking so long, at the meeting that is?”
"She wouldn’t say, all will be revealed tomorrow apparently.”
"Fair enough.”
"You still want some supper?”
"Maybe, what’re you thinking?”
"Toasties? I spotted a sliced loaf in the bread box earlier.”
"Cheese and?”
"And whatever you fancy.”
"Works for me.”

Yeah, its not just me who can eat for the nation!
 
"So?”

The olds had resisted all attempts by me to get information about last nights meeting before I went to college, seven hours later I was fit to burst with curiosity.

"Its complicated,” Dad told me again, "And don’t you have some training to do?”
"Ooo!”

He wasn’t wrong, you can’t expect to get results without putting the effort in, natural talent will get you so far but as recent experience has shown, there are lots of riders out there that want the win every bit as much as me, maybe even more. So yes I need to train as much as the next girl, more if I want to stay at the top of the game.

"So when?” I whined.
"After dinner, I promise,” Dad reassured.
"Hmmph!”
 

"Which way’re we going?” Mand enquired as we mounted our steeds about fifteen minutes later.
"Effelsburg? Come back down the river?”
"Make a change from the Ring.”
"Yeah, what I thought.”

Of course, even taking the Münstereifel road requires doing the leg up to Altenahr first which pushes the distance for this evenings ride close to ninety K, further than Sundays race! We set off into the warm evening, bidons full, pockets stuffed with bananas, gels and energy bars not forgetting race capes, well there’s the off chance of some damp but it can get cool on long descents and we’ve got over sixty kilometres from Blankenheim chasing the Ahr back home.

"They said anything?” Mand enquired as we settled into a steady rhythm on the road round to Mayschoß.
"Not a bean,” I admitted, "Dad said they’ll tell us after dinner.”
"Can’t be anything too bad then,” she opined in reply.
"Or its so bad they’re putting it off.”
"What do you think then?”
"Well its obviously something to do with the team.”
"Dur! Coulda told you that.”
"You did ask.”
"Whatever it is can’t be too bad or they would’ve said I’m sure.”
"I guess,” I allowed.

Unlike last night when we went up the bike path on the Mofas, today we’re sticking to the road up to Altenahr. Its just easier to keep a steady speed going when you aren’t dodging tree roots and other lumps and bumps that the bike path seems beset with. Not saying the road is perfect but three years of riding it, often multiple times each week means I literally do know every lump, bump and pothole between Dernau and Alrenahr.

Mand went for the Tunnel sprint of course, catching me on the hop as I waved to Hannah over at the Tanzklub. By the time I’d gathered myself to give chase she had twenty lengths on me, I let her go, its a long ride yet.

"One to me,” she crowed when I caught up to her as we passed Kristen’s place.
"Wasn’t ready.”
"She says, I get you there every time.”
"Not every,” I stated in my defence, "I beat you the other week.”
"I punctured,” she pointed out.
"Alls fair in love and war.”
"Ninety nine point nine percent,” she emphasised.

We threaded our way through the town, just beating the level crossing closing as we exited toward Altenburg and the new bypass. Back over the railway lines into Kreuzberg, over the river and it was good bye Ahrtal for a good hour. I’ve described this road for you in the past, the slow, bendy climb up to Binzenbach before tackling the hairpins up to Effelsburg.

We chatted about this and that as we rode along at a comfortable thirty ish kph, both acutely aware that we’d both be out for Brownie points on Binzenbach climb. Numerically I’ve got more ‘wins’ but its been quite close a few times and I think Mand beat me on the last two times. Not only that, but its the last ‘proper’ climb on this evenings circuit, I will have my revenge for the tunnel!

 
The conversation dried as we passed the mine memorial thing, a couple of old carts with an information board, there are a few old copper mines in these hills, Mum’ll tell you more if you really need to know. Anyhow, we each went through our checks, re-tensioning shoes, loosening neck zips, stowing glasses, you know the score. Past the fire station and its pretty much three kilometres to the top, not super steep but challenging nevertheless.

Its quite wide and even through the wooded bits there’s a wide grass verge, certainly nothing like most of the climbs around here. The speed dipped a bit on the first ramp, Mand matching me pedal stroke for pedal stroke, not sure whether she’s gained strength or confidence, maybe both, since coming to Germany – a year ago I would’ve been a lot more certain of getting to the top first. Its only two, three hundred metres between most of the turns, maxing out at about seven or eight percent, no, the time to attack is on the steeper bit after the last hairpin.

I let Mand set the pace by dint of easing slightly through turn two, but all was not as it seems. Nope, I didn’t pull right up alongside on the straight, rather I started to half wheel my companion, thereby actually forcing her to ride harder than she might otherwise choose. Bit sneaky I know but like I said before, love and war and all that.

"Gabee!” a rider going down called out with a wave just before we reached turn three, Hen from the Wielersport by the shock of red hair.

I lifted the fingers on my left hand in recognition, he’d be surprised if I did more when we are clearly giving it some uphill.

Our speed may have dropped but we were still doing around twenty as we climbed towards the last tight corner. We were now both ‘aglow’, neither wishing to give the other an inch in this battle for supremacy. I checked which sprocket I was in, seventeen, great, I can drop into fifteen for my attack, quick drink first though.

A couple of two wheeled organ donors roared past far too close as we went into the turn, boots almost scrapping the tarmac before roaring off through the trees.

"Idiots,” Mand muttered.
I could only agree, "Yeah.”

Although it got a bit steeper after the bend, it was still almost two hundred metres to the steepest bit. Even so, the pace was clearly getting to my companion, she flicked into a bigger sprocket and I grinned to myself, today de Vreen, this climb is mine. I had intended waiting a bit longer but I couldn’t miss the opportunity could I, click, out of the saddle and hit the turbo.
 

I stayed on the gas, out of the saddle and in the fifteen right up to the ten percent ramp where I reverted to a more sustainable ratio and riding style. Out of the trees and the gradient eased which let me get my breath back a bit but I’ve paid the price by sitting up here before. Not tonight Amanda de Vreen, not tonight, I got right back into it, its still best part of a kilometre to the recognised top, the point where the road crosses from the Rhineland Palatinate into the NRW with a handy board to mark said border.

There wasn’t a lot of traffic which was just as well given the speed of perhaps the same bikers passing me going back down the hill, well over a hundred K if I’m any judge. Not far now Bond, the road straightened and I could just make out the sign, sunlight leaking through the trees at the corner beyond. Its essentially flat on this bit, I heaved on the pedals to get on top of successive gears, I was churning the twelve around at nearly thirty five kph when I reached the sign.

Oh yeah, Bond does it again! I changed back down and sat up, looking behind to see where Mand was. Which was nowhere. Sugar, I made a u turn and started back along the straight.
 

"You all right?” I asked as I did a sort of moving dismount.
"Just about,” she allowed.
"What happened? Puncture?” I enquired as she picked herself out of the ditch.
"Stupid effing motorbikes, came around the bend on the wrong side, I kind of dived for the edge, hit something and poing,” she mimed flying through the air with her hands.

I rescued her steed from where it had landed about ten metres away, at first glance it looked to be okay. By now she was stood up, it was anger rather than pain on her face.

"You wanna go back or I can phone Dad?” I offered.
"I’m okay, really, we should press on, we’ve still got a way to go.”
"If you’re sure, we can cut short.”
"Gab, just get on your bike, anyone would think you were looking for an excuse to abandon the ride.”
"As if!” I blustered.
"Come on then, times a wastin’.”

My third ride past the Effelsburg summit was a bit slower than the first two, my ‘victory’ for the climb felt somewhat hollow in light of Manda’s potentially terminal encounter with the dumkopf motorader. I know I’ve had a few close shaves over the years, I guess most cyclists have but for some reason this incident has shaken me up more than if it had been me on the sharp end. We rode along towards Bad Münstereifel, Mand exclaiming imminent vengeance on motorised two wheelers, me mostly in silence.
 

"Sign!” Mand gleefully announced even as she launched.

Damn, caught on the hop again, in my defence I was thinking about Mands ‘incident’. I gave chase but much like the tunnel at Altenahr, she got the drop on me good and proper. I did close the gap by the name board but there was no denying I’d come off second best.

"Two-oo nil, two nil,” she sang whilst doing a bit of a saddle samba.

I guess claiming the climb would be a bit churlish but it did galvanise me a bit. The sign is actually quite a way out of the town, a pell mell decent into the Erftal, joining the valley road almost opposite the bahnhof. I’ve got ‘lost’ a couple of times trying to transit the town but of course, on a bike you can simply ride straight through the middle which is what we did now, there are a few cobbles to contend with but nothing too bad.

We joined the fifty one for Blankenheim some twenty five K south, its a road that can be busy, very busy but tea time mid week its not that bad. We usually turn at Emerscheide to cut across to the Ahr, its a bit lumpy that way, the extra kilometres on tonight's route sort of balances things.
 

"I think the bars are a bit out,” Mand observed as we approached Holzmühlheim.
"You wanna stop?”
"Its not by much, nothing drastic.”
“’kay.”
"Sign!”

Hah, I was ready for her this time, I saw the sign a bit back as we started the drop towards the village. A quick check for traffic and I let fly. The few metres she had claimed disappeared long before we reached the board, I got there a clear bike length ahead.

"I’ll give you that one.”
"Give me?” I spluttered, "I got you by miles.”
"If you say so.”

Clearly the off has shaken something loose in de Vreen’s head, give me the win, cheeky moo!

The climb to reach Tonsdorf always catches me out, its neither long nor steep but loops up the hillside at a steady seven percent, enough to tire the legs and reduce your speed. On the plus side, its a great run down into the town, almost two kilometres of downhill joy. There was no sprint for the name board this time as we were riding the bumpers for some distance beforehand, part of a steady stream of cars who’d passed us over the last few kilometres, probably late commutes.

We lost the traffic after the town and found ourselves doing bit and bit the rest of the way to the turn for Blankenheim. The two five eight avoids the main town and soon we were tracing the infant Ahr as it starts its journey to the Rhein some seventy kilometres away as the river flows. The road is quite good, a bit up and down in places but the general trend, as you might expect, is down.

My computer was claiming a bit over sixty kilometres when we turned at Műsch, – who came up with these names? I got the sign, almost by default as it was literally just after the turn. The next fifteen K are on a much smaller road, the valley deeper and narrower than higher or lower down. We went for all the name boards, I got Antweiler but Mand got Fuchshofen and we called a draw for Schuld. Insul would be the last chance on tonight’s ride, we don’t go for anything back down the main valley as we are supposed to be cooling down, there is no way she’s gonna get the drop on me tonight!

Clearly Manda hadn’t read the script, we both knew where the sign was, we both launched at the same time, Mand gaining about a half wheel advantage before I swept past to claim the victory, four three, it should’ve been five except for her off on the climb.

"Void!”
"Eh?” I allowed as I freewheeled along, still punching the air.
"Void!” she repeated, "My handlebars are loose, I had to sit up.”
"Don’t look very loose to me.”
"Well I need to tighten them to get back.”

What can you do? She was stopped and playing with her multitool before I got back to her.

"Half a turn,” she espoused, "They started to move when I got out of the saddle, well dodgy.”
"Yeah,” I agreed, "Well dodgy.”

Somehow I think I’ve been played, those bars were tight when I checked after her off, okay, possibly a little out of line but definitely tight. Surely she would have noticed before if it was loose, these things don’t spontaneously undo themselves.

"Come on then, I’m starving.”
"So what do you reckon?”
"Think Mum said spag bol.”
"Not the food, the news, really Gabs, you are a bit slow today.”

Hmm, slow am I?
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023