“I’m doing fine, so far.” I wouldn’t tell her Rose had just cautioned me.
“This is only the first day, Tab. Let me know if you need it.”
“I will.” I changed the subject to a more important matter. “If Napp asked you to block for him, would you?”
“Maybe.”
“Will referees call it?”
“I’m not so sure, Tab. Think about what I said.” With that, she departed. I had more to worry about. Would I need dangerous stimulants to finish?
We started on time at seven as the band played a lively rendition of “Camptown Races.” Energized by two hours of rest and a meal, I had no difficulty drafting Charity Porter, who trailed the other ladies by a lap. She made for a good draft, as did all high-wheelers. Our speed varied between fourteen and seventeen miles an hour.
My time on the safety had to be more comfortable than on a high-wheeler, given the easier steering. Charity grappled with the bike on the steep banks. I took the turns with ease, leaning into them from a less intimidating height.
My focus turned to Napp and monitoring his movements for an illegal block that would disrupt Gary’s rhythm. At least I would witness his cheating. Napp grimaced with determination as he lapped me after a half-hour. He didn’t acknowledge me, but stared straight ahead, followed by Gary, Coper, Reddle, and even Cross in quick succession. The Holy Roller nodded going by.
I heard him say, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God.” He never lost a chance to spread God’s word, giving the sign of the cross to the audience. They roared their approval. Five hours going in circles gave me time to think about the days ahead. I had become comfortable riding the track.
Silicon Valley Cyclist 
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