Week 1 – 24k ride with a couple of hills
Author – Ed
For those that weren’t there. This is – I think – what happened. But thinking about it, I’m not really sure it is.
3 laps of a 8k circuit. 18 walruses ready to go. Countdown ticks down. 3, 2, 1 and we’re off. As usual and for no apparent reason someone (I suspect it’s Bill Smith) gets to the front and puts the hammer down.
I go full beans and managed to avoid the grim fate of being dropped from the gun. A few minutes later things get a bit quieter and I assess the damage. Henry, one of my teammates, is there looking magnifcent and breathing hard on the comms. Good.
No sign of my other teammate – Lawrence. That’s ok, literally nothing was expected of him in his first race. But hopefully he’ll become more useful as the weeks roll on. Just getting into the race itself was a big step for him. He also had the added benefit of being another Lagnado – so managed to confuse some other riders who thought Roman had been left sipping hot soup on the start line.
Our group was smaller than the 18 that started so there must have been other starter gun casualties. It transpired that Alec (having being given the option to ride a better bike) had gone for the mountain bike again, and failed to live with the starting pace. A grim solo TT for him again.
Ed Smith must have written some negative tweets about Zwift recently, as he was never released from his virtual turbo trainer. Stuck putting out a 1000 watts at the start but unable to move, watching everyone else shimmy off up the road. 1000 curses from Eddie, but zero points for Jumbo Romesma.
Ben Thornton and Rich Tyler also fell foul of the insane starting pace of (it’s suspected) Bill Smith, and didn’t fancy the long slog to the line so pulled the plug early.
So there we were – a group of 13. Unlucky for some. Everyone was aware of the 2 main features of the course. The medium hill that came around each lap, and the intermediate sprint on the second lap.
Duncan joined us on the comms. Not in the race but keeping an eye on things. Providing useful information at critical times. I asked him to go and stir some shit up in the other discord groups, but he didn’t sound keen.
Everyone was content to roll along until we hit the first climb. Then things got strung out. Oli and Graeme looked in amazing touch, and with Bill Smith managed to get over the top to form a small group. Henry and myself just managed to latch onto their group with Roman someone there as well.
The key thing that i couldn’t have been the only one to spot, was that Teo was a few seconds back, and didn’t have much help with him. But despite some half hearted effort to keep him at a safe distance, he rejoined the group on the flat.
George Dix and George Humphreys weren’t so lucky and had to form a smaller group off the back. Both key members of Dixleton Scott, I can only imagine the foul language being used on their discord channel.
We then came to where the int sprint would be on the next lap. Each team must have been sizing up how they would approach it next lap. I had a word with Henry saying I had no legs for it and he should give it a crack if he could.
We rolled through the start/finish banner. I received my power up. it was all quiet.
The action really kicked off on the climb on the second lap. I was towards the front of the climb, seeing if I could make it into any front groups, but it didn’t look like anything would be getting away. So my focus was straight onto the int sprint coming straight after the descent. Henry was right by my side. Thank god. And just as I was about to start saying to Henry that we should start to keep an eye on anyone breaking away, a group of 4 broke away. Damn. We could do nothing but watch the group shoot off the front and sweep up the gorgeous intermediate sprint points.
Riders were all over the road now. That had blown everyone’s balls off, and left Henry and I chasing the group of 4 up the road. Fortunately, and as I had hoped, their sprint had meant they were resting up a bit and with the help of Henry’s relentless engine we picked up Roman who was having a rest (and probably a per) after his sprint.
Now the good thing about Roman in a bike race, is that he absolutely hates it if anyone is in front of him. Knowing this, Henry and I quietly sat on his wheel as he pulled the three of us back up to the three remaining riders up the road.
All the while, the climb had managed to drop Teo and JP. Which everyone (other than those on Lopez Quickstep) were very happy about.
So now we were a group of 7, chugging along. Someone from every team in there. How was this going to pan out?
Out of nowhere the immaculate Henry couldn’t hold the pace and slipped off the back. Damn. As soon as he did the pace dropped and everyone refused to do any work. Double damn. We crawled along for ages – poor Henry just a handful of seconds back, holding the gap but unable to get back on.
So it came down to the last hill, the descent and the clear run to the finish. Everyone went bananas up the hill. Bill off the front. No one could stick with him. I kept in touch of the others just about going over the top. Roman (as you would expect) got on the front and went hell for leather on the descent chasing Bill. The two green devils of Graeme and Oli hid in the wheels. We approached the start/finished banner but I looked at the distance and we still had 2k to go.
Bill didn’t realise this, thought he had won and was already relaying to the rest of Dixleton’s Scott that he had won on the radio. I can only imagine the foul language used as we caught Bill just after the banner and still had some distance yet to go.
So our group of 5 rolled on until Oli sensed his moment and made a move about one km from the finish. Again – Roman chased it down like a hero. But everyone was pretty spent chasing. Except Graeme, who, with his teammate just up the road, was sat in the wheels waiting to strike. And just after we caught Oli, he jumped. Again Roman tried to chase it down, I got on Roman’s wheel, but Graeme was gone.
A good win for Graeme and Lopez Quickstep. I managed to pip Roman to the line for second place (which I imagine he’s furious about). And Bill sheepishly came in fourth – paying for having sprinted for the wrong line.
Oli, having made the first punch for the quickstep one-two, had blown his dick off and limped in for 5th.
Further down JP managed to get the better of Henry in a fight to the death between them.
And then the big guns came in fighting for the scraps and complaining about PlusNet
Week 2 – Team Time Trial
Author – George
Last week was bad. Wifi issues, team tactics poor, mentally weak, physically average. Team Dixleton Scrott were beaten, but not broken. We had a week to put it right heading into week 2 and the Team Time Trial. Maybe we could do something here. A Friday meet up was arranged to test things out. What is a team time trial? How can we find out? How fast should we go? And could we go faster than that? Would our captain keep it together? Will I fix that broken bulb on the stairs to the attic?
5 of us made it to practice. Anthony couldn’t make it. There was some classic locker room banter followed by a real mess of a test ride. Too fast, too slow, too jerky, too shouty. 36kph. We stopped and took a real honest look at ourselves. We weren’t even wearing matching jerseys. What would people think. I had taken a good look at the points on offer for this race and made a snap decision that they were weighted enormously in favour of the team that won. Coming last would be a death sentence for team Dixleton. Our avatars stood casually by the side of the road leaning on their handlebars. They knew, they didn’t show it but they knew. We all knew. We had another crack and tried to go at some sort of race pace. Formation was better, Tom and Bill were looking the strongest riders and there was less bunching or shooting ahead of the lead man unexpectedly. 38kph I was feeling good and really felt like I was going to be able to contribute. I wonder how Ant was feeling. We called it a day but agreed that we needed to try again and fixed Monday for second testing. Hiding Zwift and Strava rides were in vain as our practice had been rumbled. But our data would look poor, we’d had a bad first week and our team captain presents himself day to day as an utter looney. We’d go under the radar surely.
There was lots of chat over the weekend around tactics, nutrition and smoked mackerel pate. Could we go faster? Ben had struggled at the practice and was preparing himself to drop off half way having held on for dear life helping where he could. It was mooted that he used his considerable arm strength once his legs had died but he said he didn’t have the right gloves. Very little was heard from Ant and how he was feeling but he said he’d be there on Monday. I went to bed on Sunday night worried that we just didn’t have enough power in the horse. Could we go faster? Those foul green men were top of the table after week 1 and had some serious riders in the team with a swagger to match. Oli Dammone rather surprisingly started sending me some pretty borderline messages on Sunday afternoon and as I lay in bed I was starting to let things get to me. Was 38kph going to be enough? We could probably go faster on the day but would 39kph be enough? What happened if Tom couldn’t get out of work, or Ant was mugged? George Dix seemed to regularly be heading out to or coming back from some event and seemed to have curry and beer for lunch most days – was this good? How old is George Dix?
Monday evening came. Ben couldn’t make it but Ant was there and so we had 5 again. After multiple efforts to get into the right bloody world via some sort of portal and we set off hitting our straps straight away. Ant said he was feeling terrible. This was much better. 40kph. Can we go faster? We felt much more comfortable taking turns, avoiding bunching and communicating well. We looked good but the skipper seemed to really find it tough on his giant mountain bike. Would this be the case for all the top riders? We all agreed that ‘maybe’ was the only real answer. Ant honourably held on but said that he was worried what would happen if his heart rate went much higher. We pulled over for a flapjack and sat casually on our bikes with our hands draped over the handlebars. We agreed on our tactics for the start of the race with Bill leading out as he liked to do. Could we go faster? We set off again with Bill leading out hard and as agreed Tom getting in behind to take the 2nd turn. We really let loose for 6k or so and ticked up to 42kph. Can we go faster?
The Lotto Wetboeks
We finished up, the evening sun was still hot and everyone shot off to some sort of activity and I was left in the Zwift world on my own, pedalling along. It was very hard to tell what was real these days. I spent all day talking to gaunt blanched faces on my computer and now I found myself surrounded by thousands of cyclists in some desert landscape. I hadn’t left the house in weeks but yet here I was a thousand miles away in my attic. Could we go faster? How powerful actually is Teo? Those yellow striped ones look strong on paper. An enormous spider crawled over my handlebars clinging on for dear life as I cruised along. Wetboek could be good if they all turned up. Would my internet hold out? How was Anthony feeling? Hundreds of thousands of dead flies lay on the floor. I must fix that light. I should probably find a cafe and try to eat something and calm down.
Could we go faster?
Evil Greens
The evil greens had been practicing. The team captain delved into the data to see what he could see. They looked good. How good? The rest of the team seemed unconcerned. Ant was quiet. We decided to start a disinformation campaign leaking carefully evidence that we were aiming for 39kph tops. Various bits of evidence were leaked in the hope that the Lopez Quickstep Greens might get wind and settle for 40 or 41kph as the winning speed. We felt that we could hold 42kph but could we go faster?
Race day. Yes there were nerves but we felt confident. We’d had two good practices and it was looking likely that we would have all 6 men in the team. We were in great shape. Ant said he felt terrible. He’d been for a 10k run at lunch. There was only an hour to go. I explained what was about to happen to my loving family. My two sons looked at me wide eyed at the bottom of the stairs to the attic/portal. ‘Good luck Dad’ said James the oldest who then proceeded to give me a firm tap to the testicles before running off saying ‘come on Charlie, let’s have a look under Dad’s bed.’
Dixleton Scrott
I strapped myself into the machine and entered into the Oasis. 20 minutes to go and team captain Dix joined me and we both warmed up happily keeping each other calm. We could see on Discord the other teams joining and their numbers swelling. George and I chatted nervously until we realised that there were only a few minutes to go and our team hadn’t arrived. What the hell would we do? Would we have to go around as a two? Would we DQd for not having 3 men? Would our team make it through this or would we be picked apart by other teams on the look out for top riders? I’d no doubt be on the scrap heap left by the side of the road in this forsaken desert selling my services to those who’d front easy cash. A group of elderly Italians might pick me up and use me for a while. Fucking hell this is not good for my heart rate. No sight nor sound of them until two minutes to go – then they came, Ben, Bill and Ant. My god they looked good and yes, they’d all changed their hair according to team instructions so it was easier for us to tell each other apart. All gingers and all bearded but with a variety of hair styles. Would this be the difference? Would we go faster? How did Ant feel? Great in fact, he’d eaten loads of vegetables and was feeling serious. Fuck, where the hell was Tom? With barely any time to spare Tom emerged like a wonderful ginger Gandalf, at dawn on the 5th day. He’d been stuck at work glueing someone’s skull back together and had made it home just in time!
Jumbo Romesma
Shit, we’re off! Jumbo Romesma had gone and we cracked on 1 minute after them. Bill blasted himself into the lead with his balls perilously close to the gunpowder and then as planned Tom settled into 2nd spot. We looked glorious. 43kph. Tom took over and we really went to work changing nicely for about 3k. Shit. Everyone’s gone. I was solo. I could hear everyone but couldn’t see them. Could they see me? This really was a disaster. I heard the calm disembodied voice of the team captain who kept things together reorganising the team accordingly. This was a real comfort to hear while I pedalled like a maniac in limbo between at least three worlds with increasing confusion as to which was ‘real life’. There was talk in the week about what happens to your watts if your wifi cuts out and all I could remember is that Alec Leslie was wrong. That was no help so I held a speed of 43kph for about 3 minutes and was really starting to flag. Then just as quickly as I had left I was transported back into real life and miraculously was sat neatly behind Ben at the back of the pack. A small cheer went up when my return had been confirmed and we began to settle into the race. Banzai. We were eating time into the Romesmas up front and could see that we were starting to put time into the Wetboeks behind. But we couldn’t see those foul Greens who’d started last. What would they be up to? How angry would they be? Should we go faster?
Half way came and went and we were still a 6man team. This was great news as we had expected to lose someone at around half way. We started to pick things up and could see the yellow Romesma’s up ahead. The visor on my helmet allowed me to scroll down to see where the Lopez Quicksteps were. Green names were jumping around and it was a fiddly to see at first but then it was clear – they were 2min10 behind… So we were 10 seconds up? Bloody hell. Skipper George was starting to put in some real shifts and yet we were all still together with no sign of anyone in trouble. A strong turn from Tom took us past the yellows and I took another glance to see where the Greens were. 2.10 still. This could be seriously close and we only had a few K to go and so I informed the team who greeted the news with a roar. We were in a good position to hold our lead and surely take victory. Surely. Shit. We’d lost concentration and had slowed. 40kph wasn’t fast enough. The yellows caught us and with only 2 k to go and with all 6 men left we had to give it all. We pushed back past the yellows and things started to string out. It was bedlam with every man for themselves. I lost nearly all vision but could just make out the yellow leaders coming through strong. Bill and Tom launched for the line with all their might, Bill’s balls hanging by a thread. Our third man was Ben just behind. What a performance from the team. Watching carefully for the Greens to come over the line we saw that we’d done it and had in fact managed to pull away from them in those final kilometers.
A victory for team Dixleton Scrott and 6 men over the line for precious bonus points. A well earned victory indeed and one that sets us up nicely for week 3. I decided to go for a quick cycle afterwards on my own, the others having hopped off or cycled home. Maybe I’d find a cafe. It had been good to properly get outside and once again ride with friends while shouting at them loudly. Bill’s balls must be in tatters but surely it was worth it. I hoped that Ant was ok, he’s a kind man. I saw those dead flies again and wondered what had happened to that spider. I free wheeled for a bit feeling the wind in my hair before falling down the stairs.
