Stage Two: Unley To Stirling - Sleeping Competition

Bang! The teams ride out of Unley. The first thirty kilometres will be hard.

Vello and David are conserving their energy at the back of the peloton, and chatting.

Good idea of Richard's, says Vello. That sleep thing.

Yes, the competition, says David. Are you thinking of entering?

No, I didn't mean that, says Vello. But the more riders he gets interested.....

Aha! says David. I see where you're going.....

Watch out where you're going! cries a rider from Team Movistar, in front of whom Vello has wobbled.

Sorry, says Vello. You came too close. Were you trying to overhear me?

No! cries Juan Jose Lobato del Valle. I am pursuing my own tactic!

His tactic seems to be to keep to the back of the peloton. Sometimes this tactic pays off.

Vello and David speed up to draw level with Gaius and Richard, who are discussing the sleep competition.

Now then, says Vello. That's enough of that topic. Gaius is yawning.

I am not yawning, says Gaius. I was putting forward my motto. I had just reached the last word, AWAKE.

So it looked as though he was yawning, says Richard. AWAKE. See? But he wasn't.

Wasn't awake? says David.

Wasn't yawning, says Gaius. I am a person who has never had need of much sleep.

What is your motto? asks Vello.

Are you entering the competition? asks Gaius suspiciously.

No, says Vello.

To live is to be awake, says Gaius. An eleven year old could understand it.

A sloth could, says David, ungraciously.

Richard speeds up to draw level with Arthur and Pablo, who will doubtless have intriguing entries.

He makes a valiant effort, even passing Thomas de Gendt.

He comes up behind Pablo and Arthur.

Any ideas, boys? asks Richard.

Arthur and Pablo have many. Not all about sleeping.

But it suits them to humour Richard Dawkins.

I wrote a poem once about a soldier who was sleeping, says Arthur. It was called Le Dormeur du Val.

It's good, too, says Pablo. The soldier is lying crazily in the rags of silver grass. He's dead though, not sleeping. He has two red holes in his side.

I was sixteen, says Arthur.

Very nice, says Richard Dawkins. But sleeping is not being dead.

It's a start, says Arthur.

Richard Dawkins drops back, perhaps  in order to think of a clever reply, and is passed by Thomas de Gendt, who goes on to get King of the Mountain, and win the first sprint at Verdun.

Arthur and Pablo speed up, and eventually draw level with Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales, who are also discussing the competition.

Sweezus is trying to remember his Shakespeare.

Yep! Got it! Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, says Sweezus.

Yeah, just like mum does, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Pablo looks sad, remembering the premature death of his mother.

The four of them slow down imperceptibly.

And perhaps also nearly everyone else does.

For what else can explain the success of the tactic of Juan Jose Lobato del Valle, as he crosses the finish line in Stirling?