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| He needs no introduction - Mark Cavendish, newly crowned British road race champion. |
They’d come by in a
whirr of free wheels and murmur of voices. Big guys, big gears. For a moment I
imagined they were Belgian roadies. And the last man in the string was going
away from me, was a good three lengths ahead when I thought…. GET ON.
So I upped
the revs, gears up a notch, and went after them; now four bike lengths up at
which point they went no further ahead. I was holding them. I held that for
about 20 seconds before raising my game again – bigger effort this time. And I
was on to the tail. Immediately there was that relief from having gained the
shelter of the group, for we had a cross head wind. I hadn’t done for this
years!
But soon the higher speed began to tell. They didn’t appear to know they
had a passenger. I didn’t let on. The wind covered the sound of my pump rattling
on this rough stretch of tarmac, which I know well and hate. It’s all pitted and
eaten away, making for rough going especially as it also begins to rise a bit at
this point. They didn’t slow, the pace didn’t lessen. They were on a mission.
My
man let a gap open, which he quickly moved to close, requiring me to do the same
and I felt that! Hmm, oh dear me. I had visions of the old days in my first big
senior road race, when after two hours at a fast tempo I could no longer hold
the pace, began slipping ever so slowly to the back, then off the back at a few
feet at a time, powerless to do anything about it. Hard graft. I recall it took a few
more outings before I had the legs to stay in contact.
That was half a century ago! So I wisely let my recently acquired friends go before my
inevitable demise and before anyone came back down line for fares. How long had
I stayed with them? Er. Not long! There was a fork in the road coming up and I
figured they would take the left while my route was to the right. And so ended
my flight of fancy.
I enjoyed that. Took me back, I can tell you.
Later, back
home, I searched the TV channels for the elite men’s national road race
championship in Scotland. Eurosport were showing the Spanish and French title
races, but not the British races. Fear not, they were showing it on Discovery
Plus which I take on my laptop £6.99 a month – lots of different sports and
films, and a lot of bike races.
Means I don’t selfishly clog up the TV all day.
Not that I watch hours of racing at every sitting. I’ve got too much to do
around the house. But it means I can keep an eye on race progress through the
day, and when time permits watch a chunk of it, especially the last 30 minutes.
Great race, go all the way, and as we know, Quickstep’s sprinting ace Mark
Cavendish (pictured above) won in a three man sprint after being in the leading
break for most of the day.
The race information left a bit to be desired. They
would provide time gaps on the screen, but often omit to give the distance, so
making it hard to work out the odds. Reminded me of the old days covering
British races when officials relaying info on race radio seldom gave out the
exact distance the timing was taken, or if it was a sprint, give names and not
numbers, So making it difficult to keep a log. Unlike on Continental races where
information is always preceded by the exact location – either distance covered
or distance to race – then numbers. Great race, all the same. Great winner. I
was so pleased I treated myself by promptly ordering a Quickstep racing jersey
on Ebay! Pity Cav is not picked for the Tour which starts this coming weekend.
Here’s hoping………
