Like in the road race at Arnac le Poste…
It’s a straight forward course but a dodgy finish. I don’t want to be in a bunch sprint, I’d like to get things sorted a lot sooner than that, but, I’m struggling to see where I can make a sucessful escape. On the second of six laps there’s a flurry of attacks and counter attacks and three of us go clear. One of the three is a big bloke, he looks like a sprinter. I’m thinking that he’ll eat me alive if he makes it to the finish with us. As we climb the drag back up into the town I go to the front and apply some pressure. I’m going hard to test the big fella. As we roll through the narrow street into town he’s a good few bike lengths back. So that’s OK then! 🙂

Out of town, the three of us regrouped and working well. A quick glance back, no sign of the bunch. I think we’ve cracked it, and I’m feeling good. Bang! and my back tyre is flat!!!! 🙁

Like next day in the road race at Roussac…
Where on earth did they find a circuit that’s downhill all the way around? OK, I know it can’t be really, but it feels like it. How’s a man supposed to escape here? I don’t do bunch sprints remember. There a few attacks, and I attack a few times, but nothin’ doin. Then, after a flurry of attacks two riders drift off the front. Now, there’s at least four Nantiat riders, and it’s not one of theirs. There’s at least three Nieul riders, and it’s not one of theirs. Surely they won’t let them go. But they do. I make repeated attacks, but I’m shadowed, and I ain’t towing the bunch.

The two stay away, there’s a bunch sprint for third (I don’t do bunch sprints), and I go home unplaced, disappointed and frustrated…

Sometimes it just ain’t meant to be…