Ras Mumhan; Tales from the Broomwagon by Gus Ryan
Day one Killorglin
Friday 2nd April 6:30am Raheny
Meet Anto W, Fiachra the Gent and Colm Cassidy who’s hitching a ride down.
Stage starts at 3 pm. Pick up team Manager in Newbridge, the vastly experienced and dryly witty Jason O Callaghan of Swords CC. He takes over the driving thankfully so I sleep in the back. Arrive in B&B, sign on, clip numbers on bike and we're off to the start. Jason warns us. "Lads this one goes straight from the gun." The gun goes off and the race goes. "Jaysus this is fast! 96 more km’s!" Its lashing down, puddles the size of countries litter the roads, no time to worry if they are craters or not just barrel through. The race seems like one big long sprint. Having started in a bad position near the back I seem to remain there no matter how many I pass. Its my third race back and at 60 k they line it out again and for the third time Im dropped. Feel sick, cant eat and that’s that. Im out the back for good today. Tip home and get ready for tomorrow. The marshals tell me to sit up and wait for a few coming up behind. At least I wasn’t the first to be dropped I tell myself. Melanie Spatt?? Arrives and leads me home. She is one strong rider. Arrive back at B&B to find the two boys in buoyant mood. Great day for them finishing comfortably in the bunch. Doesn’t help my confidence
Day 2 Molls gap 140km
Dry start. For ten mins then wind and wind and rain and rain and cold and cold. Fiachra is going for shorts again. Tough cookie. 60 flat k’s before we hit the first climb. Ah that’s grand. Well prob do what the big tour riders do and warm up to the foot of the climb and then let the climbers go. Long rollout. Anto appears on my shoulder
“Eh, Gus. My front derailleur just fell off.”
It had!
“Drop back and see if they can do anything lad”.
He does, they can’t.
Now most people would use this as a sign, an excuse if you will. Anto reached down with his fingers (not for the last time today), flipped it onto the big ring and pressed on.
Flag drops and the race is lined out for 60 k. Im in the cars again. Im back in the bunch. Im back in the cars then back in the bunch. The third time I get dropped takes ten mins to get back on. Then I concentrate on holding the wheel in front. The weaker lads have all gone I tell myself. The wheel in front is my sole focus point. Concentrate. Look up. Concentrate, look up. Concentrate look up. Damn. He’s lost the wheel in front. Im slipping. Sprint around. Concentrate. Look up. Wheel wheel wheel. Damn he’s lost it now. Sprint but that’s it. We hit the climb! What happened to the gentle warm up??? I see Fiachra and Anto dance up the first cat 2 and around the corner. The race teases me for a while then disappears over the horizon. Im in the cars. Then its silent. A few more drift back. Then Mel (first name terms now) appears on my shoulder again. I hold the broomwagon off till the foot of the Healey pass then I climb off. Im cold and hungry. The south Dublin lads in the back persuade me to keep going. I borrow a wheel and keep going. Up, over, through the tunnel. Descent, Kenmare. Molls gap. Finish. Lads in car. Hurricane winds. Anto spent the whole day stopping and starting with no front gears and spent it with the big boys. The biggest boys. Fio only a couple of mins down on him. Epic. South Dublin lads reckon it was harder than any Ras stage they have ever done.
Stage 3 Somewhere in west Kerry 146km
Christ even the map looks hard. Wind. Seaside. 2 mins before the rollout I get a tap on my shoulder.
“Son you’ve no number on”
an official says to me.
NO, I’ve left it all in the car, with all my food!
“You cant start without a number”
Frantic search. No sign of the boss. Head drops, lads ride away.
“Start”
I tell myself.
Im in the cars and the flag hasn’t even dropped!!
Jason arrives at my side
“where’s your bottles”
I threw them away
Hands me up a bottle of water and two gels. Get your head together and stop moaning. He’s right
I press on. Pick up a few heads (Terry from Bantry). And Mel. We go everywhere. As I head out to Valentia the leaders are heading back. First time all weekend I’ve seen them. Delahaye away on his own, Spectacular. Chasing bunch of 10, Anto sitting right in the middle. Spurs me on a bit.
I finish the stage. One bottle of water, a gel and a magic banana handed up from Hugh in the broomwagon (I introduced myself). Anto sprinted for top 10 on stage. Disapointed. Should have been up for 2nd! Christ. Fio sent the wrong way by an official and after a terrific ride was penalized a huge amount of time. V V V unfair.
Surgery
That eve Anto complained of a tingle from his toe that had got worse. Much worse. The doc in the opposite bed diagnoses an ingrown toenail. He operates. Much much pain. No anaesthetic.
Anto is officially nails.
Stage 4 110 K
Im here, its raining. Were off. From the gun. Move up. Move up. Cat 4 climb. Move up. Sprint. Move up. Two big loops of 40 K then ten laps of the town to come. Break goes. Headwinds, so pace is more polite. Will I bridge across. I must be last man on GC. They’ll let me go right?
Forget it just enjoy yourself.
Relax and enjoy. It really is great to be amongst an experienced peloton. Less nervous. More efficient. Watch the good guys. Learn. Town arrives. Sprint up hill beside yellow jersey. Lap 2. Lap 3. Lap 4 puncture. Quick change and applause from crowd. At least I have witnesses. Lap 5. Leader catches me im pulled from the course. Not unhappy about that. Anto is chasing the break himself. Chain drops. Twice! Nearly there and then Hissssssssss puncture. Fio rolls in with the bunch
Job done.
No comments:
Post a Comment