The races in Basque country are hilly. Mountainous in fact. When I first arrived, I looked at the race profiles and thought "really? Only 70k? That doesn't sound very far." When the road goes up and down though, it's long enough. Still, the races are pretty short. Usually only about two or two and half hours with some of bigger races being three. This allows them to be vicious and punchy, with tons of attacks and accelerations. As time went on I learned when to react and when to sit in. I was amazed how serious the racing was. Closed roads, full race caravans... In the first few races my seat was too low, which affected me a lot. I went to a bike shop and fixed that but shortly after I crashed hard. I feel like I never reached my full potential due to that injury but nevertheless I raced hard and learned a lot.
After racing in Basque Country for a while we went to Belgium for a week. I did a small Kermesse and a really big one called the Johan Museeuw classic. I was amazed at how incredibly fast the races there are. I had fun seeing some of my friends from 'Cross season while in Belgium, it felt good to be in a familiar place where I knew at least a little bit of the language.
One of the cool parts about racing over there is how team orientated things were. We trained together, raced together, traveled together and sometimes slept together. We had races where we'd have vague jobs to do for the team without compartmentalizing individuals. I did two big tours, The tour of Bizkaia and the Tour of Pamplona.
To conclude my trip, I traveled to the UK to race the tour of Wales. The final stage was wet and miserable, just the way I like it. A group of riders got away and once I realized they wouldn't be pulled back I attacked. One other rider stayed with me and we worked together for a while, but he wasn't strong enough and was quickly dropped. I was solo with about ten seconds on the field for a while when two riders bridged up to me. We worked together well and the gap up to the front group slowly ticked down. When we caught the breakaway, we had a minute and a half on the field. The group worked together well up until about 10k to go. I had no idea how long it was until the final climb and started to get nervous. I should have attacked right there and then. Just as we hit the climb, the race leader came blazing by us with others in tow. Away in the break away all day only to be caught with 4k to go.
That concluded my final junior race. The last one I would ever do. I enjoyed my next week in Scotland, sight seeing and exploring, then flew home.