Short and sharp, a fast twisting, up and downing road with a sharp left and then a 1/2 mile climb up lanes to the line. Felt good on the recce, legs glad of the stretch. Ominous thunder rumbles further up the valley. I get a good warm up and I even manage to meet my team. Thunder overhead, then rain, torrential rain. We huddle in a bus shelter, riders, pushers off and commisaires nip out for a few seconds every minute to set another rider off down the road. Its chucking it down - but maybe the winds dropped? 16.15 I'm off. Puddles make it hard, I'm coasting through them, or swinging out wide, concentrating, keeping the revs high. Single sharp left turn negotiated with a skip of the back wheel then its a tough steep pech to the top with a slight lull in the middle but I'm satisyingly gubbed at the top. What more can you do? Turns out our team finished within 20 secs of each other so thats cool. Rather more perturbing are the fastest times which shave almost a minute off my effort. I begin to realise what I am up against here...once back at the Uni I study the result sheet in an effort to put names to faces to numbers to teams to watch.
That night there's a bike themed quiz in the bar. I lurk for a while but am disappointed that the Q's refer to races French not Welsh...
I turn in early.
Listening to: Datblygu - 'dwylo olew' (oily hands)
I turn in early.
Listening to: Datblygu - 'dwylo olew' (oily hands)
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