Bike Racing into the Red

Bike Racing into the Red

Copyright Simon Coates 2014

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

However, anyone referred to in this story who ends up existing in the 24th century is most definitely intentional, obviously.

I apologise in advance for an error of judgement if no bike race takes place by the 24th century up Olympus Mons.

www.galactic-echo.com

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Shaun O'Shea, Frank Montague and Christine Bell for their inputs into the story, and also for help received from Janice Garbutt and Gail Stewart, who are valued colleagues who gave guidance. Also special mention to my mother, Johanna Coates-Frank, who gave invaluable feedback to the first draft of this story. I would also like to give special mention to the cycling club the Cleveland Wheelers, of which I have been a member for over twenty years. The club itself is entirely run by volunteers, with a number of members who give up large amounts of their time and effort to promote all manner of cycling events, including racing, social gatherings, youth events and many others, and is a highly valued part of the cycling scene in the local area. It is clear that the general culture of the club, which is very positive, gave me ideas to use in this story. I, for one, could not imagine ever leaving the club and am always very proud to put my Cleveland Wheelers skinsuit on for an event, be it a club race or National Championship. I have been delighted to see the club go from strength to strength in recent years and I hope it continues to do so for many years.

Finally, I would like to give special thanks to Paul Curran for providing the foreword to the story. Born in Thornaby, Stockton-on-Tees, in North East England, Paul was a top road rider during the 1980s, winning a multitude of national championships. Amongst his many achievements, of which there are far too many to list here, he lists his two gold medals at the 1986 Commonwealth Games as his greatest wins. For myself, of noteworthy mention in respect of this story, was Paul's win in the 1987 National Hill Climb Championship up the incredible Rosedale Chimney climb, recognised as being the steepest hill in Great Britain.

Foreword from Paul Curran

When Simon approached me about writing a foreword for his story about Olympus Mons, I was happy to help, but then of course I had to think about what to write about. I could say something like, Hello everyone, I'm Paul Curran, former Commonwealth Games gold medal winner, here is a cycling story about someone who goes up this really big hill on Mars, and it's great. That would be rubbish, not to say very lazy, so I thought I'd go into things a bit deeper. What I thought I'd do was put myself into the position of living in that potential future, at a time when I was at my racing 'peak' and wonder what it would be like to ride up this huge volcano, if indeed I would even consider it.

If we set aside the general problems or even the likelihood of humans ever doing something like this, or even getting to live on Mars, as suggested by the story (I’ll leave that to Simon to figure out), then we have to assume that such an event is possible. So, we have to picture ourselves in the 24th century, going about our day-to-day living on Mars: living there, working, having families, and enjoying leisure activities. So life there becomes normal: travelling there from Earth would be a normal routine long-haul flight, and taken for granted in the way we might travel today, say, from England to Australia.

On Earth at the present time, we have all sorts of extreme sports events that certain thrill seekers enjoy. Drag racing comes to mind; but then there are ultra endurance marathons such as the Race Across America cycle race, where the details are eye-watering, to the point that even committed cyclists wonder if it really is possible to do what the riders do.

The Olympus Mons hill climb would be an extreme endurance event that would fit in this category. To put some perspective to it, let us look at hill climbs we have in the present day. In 1987, I won the National Hill Climb Championship on the fearsome Rosedale Chimney climb in North Yorkshire. It is a short climb, but features gradients of around 45% on the corners. In fact there are many climbs around England that are like this - short, but very steep. In the grand tours, the climbs that decide races like the Tour de France and Italy are typically over ten miles long. They are huge climbs. But nothing like Olympus Mons. Simon assures me, if a road were laid on it, the climb would be a quite staggering 240 miles long, with the summit an impossible to imagine 14-15 miles from ground level.

There is nothing like that on Earth. The longest continuous climb on a paved road is Mt. Haleakala on the Hawaiian island of Maui; it is 36 miles long, and rises 10,000 feet. So in other words, this climb, the longest on Earth, you would have to do nearly seven times to get the equivalent distance of Olympus Mons. However, it is the height which is eye-watering. 15 miles up is three times higher than Everest. If we assume an average speed of around 10 mph, then that would mean you would be climbing for over twenty hours. Imagine that: effectively a 24-hour time trial but climbing the whole way. That would just totally do your head in! Yes, as an extreme endurance event, Olympus Mons would certainly qualify.

So - would I have ridden it? Well, if my sponsor arranged it, so that I had a bit of time to acclimatise, then maybe; it would all depend on how much I would get paid, I think!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the book; just thinking about the event is enough to make me tired!

Paul Curran, June 2014

Table of Contents

Prologue

Stage One

Stage Two

Stage Three

Stage Four

Stage Five

Stage Six

Stage Seven

Stage Eight

Stage Nine

Stage Ten

Stage Eleven

Stage Twelve

Prologue

Jonas watched as the rider in front of him waited for the clock to tick down.

Five.. four.. three.. two.. one.. go! uttered the timekeeper, as the rider set off down the road, bike rocking one side to the other as he got up to speed. Jonas then rolled forward to take his place on the start line. This was his last race of the season, the traditional hill climb up Clay Bank, a very well-known local climb. He had trained for this; his last race was two weeks ago, so he had been able to prepare specifically for this one. He wanted to do well; he felt strong, his warm-up had been good and he was in a positive frame of mind: relaxed, but focussed on the job in hand. A short wave to the officials at the side of the road who he knew well, the usual banter: Have a good one, Jonas.

With thirty seconds to go, the pusher-off held the bike firmly, and Jonas clipped his foot into the pedal, readying himself. Just a quick check to ensure the skinsuit was zipped up; the gloves were on right, everything was in place. Gearing 53x19, perfect for the start effort. This hill climb featured about half a mile of flat road before the climb started, so he would look to get a good speed going – but not too quick to blow his box out and have oxygen debt for the main uphill section. Five seconds to go.. four.. three.. two.. one and 'GO!' The pusher-off launched him forward and Jonas got out of the saddle, accelerating along the road.

And this is how a time trial always starts, the sport that has gone on for a number of centuries, with actually very few changes over the many years. Time trials as a form of racing are the most basic, with a very simple premise. At club level, it is grass roots sport at the most fundamental; at the very top professional level, it is a very serious sport, but run along the same basic principles. Each rider does the same course as everyone else, with the rider taking the least time being the winner.

No time to get nostalgic, however – that could wait until the cold winter nights. Right now, Jonas had a ride to do. Up through the gears, into the 17 sprocket, then the 16 and then the 15. Really flying now. Breathing good. Legs feel strong. This could be a good ride. Don’t overdo it just yet, with the start of the climb approaching.

Clay Bank is a relatively simple climb. The first bit goes up at around 10% for a hundred meters or so, before flattening off, then rearing up again to around 9% for the main climb, a nice steady gradient to the finish, about a mile up the road. Which was right now, in fact, as Jonas roared along at around 25mph, approaching the first steep bit. Change down, to the small ring and about the 16 or 15 sprocket, spinning for a bit before the gradient kicks in. Starting to feel the first bit of pain, but breathing was good. As long as the breathing is easy, then he knows he’s doing well. This is going well.

The road shallows a bit, and Jonas changes up a gear, then another one. He powers over the flatter section, ready for the main climb. He could see his minute man just around the corner; a carrot if ever there was one, especially as he was dressed in an orange coloured kit. He hits the steep section as the main climb starts, and selects the 15 sprocket. Out of the saddle for a short while before sitting down again, letting the power come through easily. Nice pace, need to keep the effort even, but considering there is only a mile to go, can't really hold back. The orange guy is getting bigger in his vision, and after one of the long bends Jonas catches him.

Dig in, he utters as Jonas goes past, and there were a few people on the side of the road, shouting encouragement.

Go on Jonas, he hears, as he powers on. Now the finish is almost in sight. Jonas changes up a gear and gets out of the saddle as the road gets a little shallower in gradient. The legs are now screaming in pain as he pushes on, the mind taking over the signals from his legs to just stop. He has to force himself to continue, constantly fighting the natural urge to ease off. Not quite yet… just need to get around the last corner, and the finish line is in sight. A big effort now, out of the saddle as he starts sprinting, with a big crowd egging him on. A few more pedal strokes and he crosses the line. 6 minutes, 14 seconds… that’s really good, half a minute faster than last year. That was a good ride. He swings into the car park at the top of the hill, and rides around for a minute to get the lactate acid out of his legs and to get his breath back.

Well done Jonas; That was hard; You finished well there, are the various utterances by the people there. Other riders are so shattered they can’t speak, so they just manage a raising of the eyebrows or a knowing smile, which is all they need to do to get their meaning across. Sometimes you don’t need to actually talk to say something.

Jonas rides back down the hill to the event headquarters, to get back to his car and to check the results. He is leading, with some of the top riders still to come, most notably Sladek Gilmour, a tremendously strong climber from Northumberland. Jonas's time was actually 6:12; He doesn’t expect to win, and his suspicions are confirmed when Sladek comes in with 5:12; a minute quicker than Jonas! He really is a great climber.

After the usual chatting with his friends and racing colleagues, they all slope off home, except some of Jonas's clubmates, who decide to go to the local public house for a season-ending get-together, which seems a nice idea. He follows them in, all of them tired from their efforts, but somehow not feeling as tired as usual as good company always energises people. Jonas doesn’t feel too bad, but he can’t stop yawning.

He wouldn’t have yawned if he’d known that this get-together would change his life forever.

They enter the pub, and meet some of the fellow riders in there. Some of them are his club mates, some are from outside the area, but he recognises them from previous events. There are the usual jokes: Hi, isn’t it strange we only meet when we’re wearing tight clothes, and others, which always raise a smile. After the banter a group of them sit down at a table, near a window. There is Jonas, fellow clubmate Anton Vilchis, Sladek, who won the event, and a couple of others whom he doesn’t recognise. He asks one of them who he is.

He replies, Hi, I’m Cemder Dim’old, and Jonas immediately raises his eyebrows – people with such names are usually from Planet Mars.

Wow. Far away from home, Jonas responds.

He has his assumption confirmed. Yeah, I work for a big construction company, we’re building a new spacestation in Earth orbit. I’m here for about a year, then we’ll see.

Jonas discovers he has family from Mars, but he also has close friends on Earth and the Moon, so his stay here on Earth is a temporary one. He is unsure where he might live permanently. Jonas envies his sense of freedom; Jonas has lived on Earth all his life.

They talk a bit more, and inevitably the conversation is dominated by their shared passion for cycling. He asks him what it is like to cycle on Mars.

Well, mate, it is just like Earth really, where the population centres are. They have the artificial gravity systems so it feels like Earth. But I do like to get out a bit more: when you go out into the countryside the gravity is natural Mars gravity and it makes climbing easy!

Have you got any favourite rides? Jonas asks.

Yeah, the ones where I go off road are pretty good. The scenery is amazing, especially near Olympus Mons.

Ah, yes, thinks Jonas – Olympus Mons. This mythical, amazing, phenomenal volcano – the biggest and most massive volcano in the whole known universe.

Can you ride up it? asks Jonas.

Yes, there is a road, believe it or not – it is a proper tourist attraction, although the road was laid for the scientists who study the volcano. I’ve never done it because it is just too long really. It is 380 kilometres long, with an average gradient of 10% for the first 80 kilometres, then 5% for the second section, which is 300 kilometres. Where it is, however, has natural Mars gravity so it would feel like about 2% if it were on Earth. Still, climbing for nearly 250 miles!

Jonas can sense the passion Cemder has for the volcano. Even though he has made Earth his home for now, it is clear the connection he has to his birth planet. He