Following on from last Mondays finish ‘in the money’ I decided to treat myself to a new saddle. It always gives me a little psychological boost whenever I get a new piece of kit, and seeing as I spend so much of my time out here sitting on a saddle I was happy to fit it on Monday evening. This was to be the first mistake. In my eagerness I whipped the old one off without so much as a measurement being taken and before you know it I had roughly put the new one where I thought it should go. By Tuesday morning I had reached the next town down with hamstring problems and by the time I had finished my ride of all 5 kilometres I was in real pain. This was my inexperience showing big time. When you ride a bike for a living every day of the week your muscles become honed and accustomed to one position, train in a different position and as I found out, you will end up straining muscles you didn’t even know you had. The following day was a complete write off as I was playing a guessing game in the garage with where to adjust my saddle to its new/old position. After 2 days I was back on the bike properly, it was a short sharp lesson…for next time I will add a tailor’s tape measure to my tool box!
A double race weekend was in store for me this week. Saturday dawned and a trip to the Walloon region awaited us. I pre rode the 9 kilometre circuit with my team mates before the race start, there were a couple of hills of note and a dead corner which led onto a cobbled section of 500 metres up a gentle incline. The sun had blessed the event… a little too well perhaps as the thermometer read 28 degrees and I was melting like the spectators ice creams on the start line. The race started hilariously… My team mate Mike attacked just half a lap in taking with him a few riders, he was no more than 50 yards up the road when his group carried on at a left turning leaving them chasing the peloton as opposed to escaping it… if only all breaks were that easy to bring back. In fairness to him the marshall on the corner was clearly at fault, probably hampered by several generations of incest he just stood there drooling… a lesson for next time being that you should never attack on the first lap if you don’t know the course! My race got rather interesting at the half way mark, I had a brief confrontation with a New Zealand rider and came off worse, being pushed off the road and managing to bring my bike to a halt in a local garden hedge. I remounted, shouted several profanities and began my half lap chase solo across the cobbles to regain the back of the disintegrating peloton. I dug really deep towards the end as the lead break dangled just off the front of what was left of the peloton. The lead group of 16 stayed agonisingly clear but I strung the last couple of corners together perfectly to sprint across the finish line in around 25th place. This should have been the end of the saga but nothing is that simple in the Walloon region. I went to collect my winnings and was told by the lead commissaire that he was unable to see the finish line order due to the fact the sun was shining on the numbers each rider has to wear… frankly the worst excuse I’ve ever heard as every rider had a frame number as well. After a brief but successful argument I was placed 30th…in the money again with an envelope for a whopping 12 euros.
Sunday was a complete change, the wind had picked up, the temperature was cooler and the circuit was a pan flat 4 kilometre course. We picked up a young Kiwi lad by the name of Jason Christie on the way to the race. It was a nice change from just talking to the same English riders all the time. I set off knowing the race would be shredded after just a few laps by the 50 kmp/h cross winds. About 7 laps into the 28 lap race I joined a pretty select group at the front with the race splitting badly on one section in the fierce cross winds. I was joined there by my team mate Mike and our fellow car passenger Jason. The pace in this group was amazingly high, In the crosswinds we were riding at 55km per hour with me pulling a variety of faces on the back of the group trying to stick with the pace. At one stage the gap grew to 1 minute 20 seconds but the break was just slightly too big and with too many riders sat on it was eventually brought back at the half way mark. At this point I had more than shot my bolt and as the counter attack rolled up the road driven by Jason I could only watch. I finished alone in a futile chase to be given 44th place. Up ahead the race had been killed off by an attack by our new kiwi friend Jason who soloed to victory 20 kilometres out to win by 2 clear minutes. All that was left was to dine in style to celebrate Jason’s win at the Century Restaurant in Aarschott. This was to be an interesting experience, not least because we were joined by respected cycling author and Journalist William Fotheringham. I have always enjoyed writing so hopefully meeting people like this will give me more opportunities in the world of cycle journalism. Some of you may know that I have had to censor this latest blog owing to my difficult situation with my team manager and the fact that I live with him, if you use the term loosely. Anyway I promise to break this relative silence in my next blog which I will publish from my own home without fear of being evicted earlier then what has already been agreed. Sorry to end on such a confusing note but I will produce a full story of the last few weeks in next week’s blog.
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