Tired of tyres and ticked off with tubs

We are now into the month of May and the calendar on my wall looks as packed as a Christmas turkey.  A heavy race schedule can only be a good thing, after all I’m here to race, to learn and to get results so the more practice I get the better my chances of a decent result.  The week started off poorly.  Saturday was to be a 140km race in Vilvoorde although by the number of roundabouts on the course… ‘Belgium’s Milton Keynes’ would be a more appropriate name.  I shall spare you the dramatics as there were none, I was eating well, conserving my energy and after an unspectacular 80km my new rear tubular tyre gave up the ghost.  I felt let down, if you’ll excuse the pun, but at 70 euros a new tubular should fare better than that.  Onwards and upwards then… to the northern town of Herselt for Sundays saunter of just 100km.  The short distance made the race increasingly nervous, several times I was anchoring on as the bunch hurtled through town centre streets being shepherded by barriers.  I played my cards early and by lap 2 I was blasting across to a 6 man move, the first 15 seconds of the 20 second gap flew by, then I hit the lactate wall.  I was grinding away on my 13 sprocket, watching as the riders up ahead showed no sign of letting up.  As I pressed on down the home straight at a wind assisted 55kmp/h I was reeled in by the Peloton as the break pulled clear.  Each lap was like a mini bunch sprint as the 150 field barrelled into the farm road down the backside of the course.  The width of the road halved each time through meaning the pace was constantly tough.  The break stayed agonisingly clear by a handful of seconds leaving the 100 man peloton to risk everything in the gallop for 7^th.  I came in 34^th, not the result I was looking for but when you walk away from a bunch sprint you count yourself reasonably lucky. 

I didn’t have to wait long for my next bite of the kermisse cherry.  Wednesday was to be 118km of endless kicking out of corners in Beveren.  I had elected to ride on ‘clincher tyres’ for the evening as my luck with tubular tyres seemed to be non-existent. I was aggressive early on, getting in 2 small moves in the first 15km and even coming within a bike length of the first prime (money put up for the first rider across the finish on a designated lap).  As would inevitably be the case the main break of the day rolled off the front just after I had been reeled in… typical.  I tried hard to get across in a group of 3 but with heavy legs and a nagging wind my efforts came to nothing.  The laps ticked by in an endless series of tight bends, entering at 20kmp/h and accelerating up to 55kmp/h within 500 yards.  The pace was frenetic as a dozen or so riders pulled hard on the front of the bunch for a good 80km, never giving the breakaway more than 30 seconds.  I was suffering but as the last lap loomed and the break was reeled in I was gripped by optimism, adrenaline and above all hope that this was to be the night when I creeped into the top 15 for the first time.  We came through the speed trap with 3 km to go as one big bunch; the sign flashed 53kmp/h.  I kept my wits about me, moving up when there was a gap but never putting my nose in the wind.  The black clouds over the course burst with 2km to go and with it went my luck, the atmosphere which had been stiflingly humid all night was beginning to tip its load on the course.  I approached the final corner 16^th wheel, brimming with a tonic of excitement, nervous energy and adrenaline.  Disaster… the two riders in front of me went down hard; the rain had made the last corner slick.  I had nowhere to go, I tried to avoid the crash but my quick change of line quickly took my front tyre out of contact with the tarmac leaving me to flop down like a seal.  I was full of emotion, getting back up almost before I’d hit the ground, I hopped back on, cyclo cross style, only to find the chain had been knocked off in the accident.  The rain poured down… leaving me to limp in one legged close to a minute down on the bunch.  Within 2 minutes I had gone from a potentially excellent position to picking myself up off the deck to rolling across the line despondent.  I was barely able to congratulate my fellow room mate Rob who played his hand superbly in the sprint to race home a valiant 6th... chapeau. 79^th place was my official position, the full story doesn’t replace the fact that at the end of the month I will have to provide results in order to justify funding from the Dave Rayner Fund.  I had and still do have very good form but with time running out to prove I can cut it in this country I was in need of a big result at Beveren.  Fingers crossed for this baron spell of luck to end and a big result soon!