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

Over yes, but not soon enough, I was within grasping distance of the line, well a few lengths when not one but two of my foes drew level, there was nothing left in the tank, nothing to give any extra boost to my speed. And then it really was over. Dad found me a hundred metres or so beyond the line, around turn one in fact, slumped over the bars sobbing my heart out.

"Great ride kiddo.”

Sniff

He pulled me into a hug.

"B-but I didn’t win,” sniff.
"You can’t win every time you know.”
"I,” sniff, "Know that but I,” hic, "Set it up perfect, shoulda scorched it.”
"They only just got you.”
"But they should’na,” sniff.
"Gab luv, they’re twice your size, it's them that should be worried, that you were able to nearly outfox them, a mere slip of a girl.”
"I’m seventeen.”
"You’re missing the point kiddo, I know you think you can beat all comers and you often do.”
I interrupted, "I am the Weltmeister.”
"Weltmeisterin,” he pointed out, "You’re tenacious and a pretty good tactician but sometimes that’s not enough. You had a go, that’s the main thing.”
"Maybe I should give up and stick to the singing.”
"That’s your choice to make kiddo, all I ask is that you think very carefully before making that sort of decision, don’t base it on a perceived failure here, promise?”
"I guess.”
"Good girl, we can use this to our advantage you know.”
"How’s that?”
"Well for starters, they’ll be the ones trying to protect their advantage tomorrow.”
"I s’pose.”
"Plus,” Dad went on, "It was exactly to plan right?”
"Eh?”
"You weren’t trying to win, just testing the opposition. I know you were giving a hundred and ten, you know that but let them think that, unlike them, you weren’t that committed, just putting on a show.”
"I guess.” I agreed, look I’ve just finished a race, you want me to be eloquent too?
"Come on then, the others’ll be wondering whats happened.”

Everything he’d just said made sense, I know the facts, I’ve been using my wiles to get the better of the lads in these mixed races for a while, its definitely not a level playing field. Then I had an idea, based loosely on my last training ride with Manda.

"Hang on a mo.”
"What now?”
I dismounted and set about taking the front wheel out.

"What’re you doing?”
"Looking for what caused the puncture.”
"Puncture? You don’t have…”

Hsssssssss.

"A puncture,” he finished as I tightened the valve back up.
"Must’ve been pinched when I landed from that last kerb drop.”
"Guess so.”

Dad took control of the bike while I slipped my shoes off – well you don’t want to walk far on road cleats.
 

By the time we got back to the start / finish line the area was already largely clear of bikes, riders and supporters, the presentation will be at the HQ along with everyone’s transport. Well almost everyone.

"Everything okay?” Joe enquired as we reached him.
"Yeah, nothing a bit of air won’t put right,” Dad offered waving the front wheel.
"Aye, it happens, lets stick one of these in and you can ride back Gaby.”
"Yeah, these socks aren’t really made for walking.”
"Think you’ll find that was boots,” Joe grinned as he slipped the spare wheel into the forks while Dad held the bike.
"Eh?”
"Boots, made for walking?” he tried to explain.
"It’s an old pop song,” Dad added.
"Whatever.”
Joe pushed the quick release closed, "There you go lass, good job it didn’t happen earlier in the race eh?”
I finished tightening my shoes, "Yeah.”
 

"Joe said you got third,” Josh mentioned when I caught up with the others at the camper.
"Just got edged,” I allowed, "Front tyre was going down so I couldn’t give it a hundred percent.”

Mand gave me a look, you know, the ‘I don’t buy that’ look.

"So how did you cut the elastic for us?” I asked once I was settled with a bottle of Sprite®.
"Moving road block,” Daz enthused.
"Just let you slip away really,” Josh stated.
"And no one tried chasing?”
"A few had a go but once you were loose me an’ Josh kept a high tempo, they were strung like pearls,” Daz espoused.
"Very poetic,” Mand put in.
"Once you were out of sight they kinda gave up hen.”
"Guess we’ll be playing the numbers tomorrow,” Mand suggested.
"At least the time trial’s a decent length.”
"But we’re on road bikes,” de Vreen noted.
"And? Everyone’s in the same boat,” I pointed out.
"And we have a secret weapon,” Josh grinned.
 

The presentation was quite low key, well its only a third of the race so it was as much an acknowledgement of the result as opposed to a big celebration. The prizes reflected that, mere tokens compared to the overall but thirty euros is thirty euros I guess.

"Food?” Dad suggested as we headed back to the Hymer.
"You have to ask?” Mand replied.
"We got to dress up?” I asked.
"We didn’t bring our stuff,” Daz admitted.
"Well I guess we can do casual then,” Dad allowed, "But tomorrow…”
I pumped my arm in the air, "Yes!”
 
With the lads ‘commuting’, the bright lights of Bremen would not be shining on us this evening. Oh no, we weren’t even going straight to a restaurant, instead Mand and I joined the lads in Joe’s Audi and set off to reconnoitre the course for the morning time trial. It wasn’t far away from the university campus, I reckon about five kilometres, certainly close enough to ride out from the HQ.

One thing is for sure, its no drag strip, no indeedy! Nope, we’ll be racing along a nicely surfaced single carriageway country lane that wiggles along either bank of the River Wümme. It is however pretty much flat, I doubt it climbs more than twenty metres in the whole twenty five kilometres.

The outward leg, that’s heading downstream, has a fair bit of tree cover and shelter with a string of expensive looking houses for almost the full twelve kilometres. The slightly longer return is more exposed with far fewer signs of civilisation and in the car at least, it seems a bit straighter. Given the parcours maybe its not so bad that we’ll be on our standard road bikes.

In the car we were round in just over forty minutes including getting out to have a look at the turn in more detail. Its nothing weird, the lane joins a bigger road right next to the bridge and you turn within metres of crossing into the return lane. There is a small ramp at either end of the crossing so it was worth having a better look so we aren’t surprised by them.

"Its a canny course,” Joe opined as we headed back towards Bremen.
"Just hope its not too windy in the morning,” Mand mentioned.
"The roads are better than I imagined.” I informed the car.
"Bit betta than Sunderland eh Josh?” his uncle stated.
"Aye.”
"Where are we eating?” well a girl needs to know.
"We passed it on the way to the start lass, some place one of the officials recommended I think. Your da should be there by now.”

And as if by magic, I spotted our behemoth mobile home parked at the side of a slightly run down looking building literally at the junction we’d used to get to the start. Joe parked us up and we decamped just as it started to drizzle. Better tonight than tomorrow I guess.
 

It was a Greek restaurant, Kalimera or some such, the menu full of something-is or iti but enough ‘traditional’ German options to satisfy most people. We were the first customers of the evening so we had the undivided attention of the wait staff, well two of them at least, a pair of identikit Mediterranean men wearing white shirts and black chinos.

"We doing starters?” I asked, eyeing up the enticing range of options.
"Think we can manage that,” Dad agreed after scanning the prices.
"Excellent!”
"Some people are easily satisfied,” Mand chuckled.
"Only in affairs of the stomach,” I countered.
"We’d best tell your boyfriend that,” Josh snorted.
"Hmmph!”
"Children!” Dad interjected, "See what I have to put up with Joe?”
"You think this is bad, back in the day team harmony wasn’t dreamt of, there was always some petty feud.”
"Every one looks like best mates in the pictures like,” Josh suggested.
"Well, I suppose we mostly got on but there was always tension when one of the furreners got picked ahead of the domestic guys.”
"Furreners?” Daz querried.
"Aye, lads who raced on the continent, France, Belgium looking to turn pro like Simpson and Hoban. Ya have ta remember, stuff like the Milk Race and Peace Race were strictly for amateurs back then, all the home guys had proper jobs besides the racing unlike the pseudo pros at the ACBB and so on. Don’t get me wrong, Paul and John especially were top lads but it irked some at home who I think saw them as stealing their slots on the teams especially when it came to the Worlds.

It’s all different now of course but back then even the British pros usually needed another job to get by financially, can you imagine Eddy Merckx doing a nine to five before riding the Tour in his holidays?”
"He didn’t?” Mand queried.
"Of course not but that’s what it was like in Blighty back then. It caused some friction and looking back, there was some selection bias that meant some really good riders never got their chance on the world stage. Its better now but it still goes on.”
"Tell me about it,” Josh put in, "If you aren’t in their programme you’ve got no chance of getting picked.”
"Well I suppose they have their reasons Josh, they’re throwing money at the track because they see that as the best chance of medaling, we’ve not exactly got a great record on the road.”
"And we’ve had like two medals there,” Josh stated.
"We do okay in the women’s road race,” I suggested.
"No disrespect girls but BC have long been a bit misogynistic, Beryl and Mandy won despite the poor way they were treated, its no different with your Mam Gaby, or Nicole,” Joe concluded. "Anyways, less of me grumbling on, think I’ll just have tha chicken and rice thanks Dave.”

In the end I had Saganaki, which is like a baked cheese fritter thing, as a starter and a lamb gyros with rice and salad. Bit of a strange kombo but it was quite filling without being too spicy – you have to consider these things when your racing. As for the others, well I couldn’t even pronounce what Dad had, Mand had a big salad and pommes and both the lads had chicken the same as Joe but, after some haggling, with pommes rather than rice.

"So what do you reckon to the morning?” Dad eventually asked, the food finished and coffee ordered.
"Looks straightforward enough,” Daz offered, "Its like the F1 but on lanes.”
"E72,” Joe suggested.
"Think the resemblance ends with out and back,” Mand observed.
"Think I get the idea,” Dad told us, "So you start in reverse order to todays finish, Joe, you alright doing the finish?”
"Think I can manage that.”
"Great, I’ll be at the start, if we get any feed back from out on the course Joe will let me know and i can pass it on. Its twenty five kilometres so I’m thinking fifty minutes?”
"Forty five I was thinking,” I told the table.
"Remember you’ve got the road stage afterwards,” Dad pointed out.
"Not straight after.”
"Okay but a hundred and five rather than a hundred and ten percent.”
"Jawohl Herr Kapitan.”

"I think we’d best get off Dave,” Joe mentioned, make sure these two get their beauty sleep.”
"They need it,” Mand snarked.
"Pots an’ kettles,” Josh back.
 

The campsite, Stadtwaldsee Camping, was about two K from the race HQ, we could, at a push walk there. It all looked to be fairly new, leastways the hedges were small and sparse and the facilities had none of the features that older builds seem to accumulate, the inherant dampness, missing tiles and broken mirrors, goodness only knows what the gents are like. But here everything was sparkly.

Back when we lived in England we always camped for holidays, well nearly always and the same if we were going to Mum’s or later my races, its just what we did. Since we came to Germany things are almost mirrored, its rare not to use a hotel, the last time I camped was New Year and that was only for a bed and before that, maybe back in England. Of course, there are facilities in the Hymer but Dad suggested we might want to use the site showers at least.

"You didn’t really have a puncture today did you?” Mand accused as we walked across the camp ground.
"You saw it, flat as a fart.”
"Convenient.”
"Like your loose bars the other day?”
"Don’t know what you mean.”
"Come off it Mand, if they’d really been loose you wouldn’t’ve been able to ride at all.”
"Okay, so I made it up,” she admitted, "You got the jump on me, so the flat?”
"Fair cop, I let it down afterwards, it was sort of Dad’s idea, a bit of gamesmanship, let them think they only beat me because of a puncture.”
"So did they get you by much?”
"Half a wheel?”
"The look on your face you’d a thunk it was tens of metres.”
"Well it felt like it was, I was sure I had ‘em beat then they sneak past just before the line.”
"Set things straight tomorrow then.”
"I intend to, you got the tokens?”
 

By the time we’d completed our ablutions it was dropping dark outside, the bit of damp at the restaurant had come to nought beyond a few small puddles that now sparkled in the roadway lighting. Across the lake the lights of Bremen filled the horizon and closer by, the Fallturm twinkled above the university campus.

Dad was already back from his own trip to the ablutions, working on a stack of papers, the radio tuned to some easy listening station and the kettle almost at the point of boiling. It took me back to those trips in England, oh the camper is a bit more luxurious than the somewhat cramped Volkswagens that you couldn’t get a cat in let alone swing it. Apart from that then, it felt familiar, a sense of nostalgia.

Yeah, Mum would always have a stack of marking to work through, Dad would be reading some archaeological thing, both offering up gems of wisdom to entertain us. As for us kids, there might be some schoolwork but as often as not Jules would be engrossed in some pop magazine or other and me? Well I was never that big a reader although I’d devour Mum’s cycling magazines but most often, in the camper I’d be playing with my Lego®, building fanciful vehicles and structures or drawing – not that I was any good but I enjoyed it.

"We having cocoa then?” Mand enquired, breaking the spell.
"Dad?”
"Hmm?”
"Cocoa?”
"Er sure, there’s some of those packets in the cupboard.”
"Have to do.”

Guess who ended up on kettle duty?

We turned in quite early, before ten, well it has been a long day, up at silly o’clock, driving all the way up to Niedersachsen and a hard race even if it was only an hour long. Mand and I were sharing the ‘master’ bedroom which feels more like a hotel than a camper, deep pile carpet, bedside tables, the lot. As my eyes finally closed, the pitter patter of rain on the roof above us provided all the lullaby I needed to drop off.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023