Eyes opened typically at 5am on Sunday, the head had no interest in activity though. A little voice nagged at the guilt to do something but it took an hour just to intice movement. After much procrastination I finally swung a leg over the BM, attention more on the temperature (1.7) and not on the speed (Garmin even having a day off), I rolled out Old Dookie Rd soaking up the scenery, in no mood for effort. Turned into Boundary Rd to witness another brilliant start to a day with the sun cresting the trees through the fog, inspiring enough to halt and 'smell the roses' with a snap for posterity.
Funny how little things swing your focus. Rolling again with enthusiasm rekindled, I picked up the speed a little to get the blood moving (the brief stop quickly cooled the body temperature) and turned into Channel Rd, a touch of warmth from the rising sun (I read that human skin can detect as little as quarter of a degree change) a good tonic to be now rolling along at a good rate of knots. Got back into town early, Cougs was again the only one with drive to put in a lap. A reverse of the previous course (to even bias on tyres?) the familiar run along Channel Rd to Boundary Rd watching fog thicken, putting a psychological click or two on the mental handbrake. Only a small menage of Muppets seen today (headed south) most others probably toasting themselves under doonas or in front of heaters (i know of a few sore headed riders recovering from Ayto's 40th last night) 25k was tapped smoothly away thanks to Cougs good tempo, a machiato reward at the Lemontree for chalking up 50k before heading home to indulge in part 2 of breakfast.
A short 20k Monday morning, enough to satisfy the addiction, the only mission to keep condition without attrition. A modest roll down Archer, Mitchell then Raftery with little traffic and the peletons yet to pound the pavement. Passed a highly intelligent kid on a bmx bike on the way home, black jacket, no lights front or rear, a beanie for a helmet (a real helmet hanging from the handlebars) and riding no hands so he could text a little easier. Yep, a future genius, if he lives.
Small pickings on Tuesday's Couldabeens effort, only Nick, FujiTrev, Cougar, Kenworth, Pete & Temple to put in a lap. A somewhat favourable northeasterly should have attracted a few more but it was quality rather than quantity. Consideration and self preservation kept us united, there was a lot more work to do with half the regular numbers. 7 degrees was bearable and we certainly felt the wind in the final 300 metres of Channel Rd. Some relief heading south (if you were starboard side of the short train) but not the expected advantage in Mitchell Rd. Cougars battery suddenly went out to lunch (most inappropriately), Temple's chivalry acted as a guiding light, but the unseen pot-hole at the chichane whacked the Mavics severely. Nick, Kenworth, FujiTrev and Pete continued on the usual course, Cougar, Temple and I headed homeward via Archer, seeing our quick chick got home safely in something more than darkness. A good lap regardless, breeze picking up as we rolled into town.
A cool Tuesday evening didn't stop many from rolling up to the hospital. Axel back from holiday, Jamie, Mike, Clive, Paul, TallDale, Kev, Dalton and Tony commenced the lap adding Sprinter & Gools (after a long absence) then Sticks, Mitch, Bomber, Steigy, OlympicSteve and co to swell the numbers to 16. A bit of a yo-yo pace nearing the main channel (Sprinter applying the handbrake of survival?) but all was back into order by the kennels. Around Emu corner, Bomber bolted at the railway line, TallDale nearly took off in pursuit till Jamie pointed out the folly. With no takers, Bomber soon drifted back to the bunch. A chance to share a bad joke with Jamie (guffaws with gusto), a little gratification with Gools, h.r. techtalk with Dalton and hear of race agendas from Steve. The steady tempo was but a waiting game, most expecting a hit at some stage soon. Turned into River Rd and still the steadiness stayed. Most odd. About a kilometer passed then the throttle was slowly squeezed to the floor (peering to the front, I saw the big guns had grouped to elevate heart rates), by Laws Drive 11 metres were passing each second (42km/h), Sprinter being the ritual sacrifice on tonites rotisserie. Newcomers were relieved to see Bomber peel off at the Kialla hall, old hands knew others were likely to mimick. Pace was on again after the turn, Axel opting out of a front seat position, up to me to match Mitch in Mitchell. I could only deliver a short turn but it set a pattern of track turns to follow (all the way to the finish) Crossing the highway those rotating were varied & shuffled, many now missing in action (throwing out tow ropes I'd guess) it was down to Mitch, Dalton and me driving a fast k before Conrod. Witts get sharpened at this rate, focus a bit blurred, field of view narrowed, the slightest surge amplified, turns out of order, fighting to keep a wheel and gaps opening up. (I was the lucky lad to have the diesel Dalton's wheel) Out of the Conrod dip a few finally fronted to add their contributions (many burning up on the re-entry) but I was out of watts to make any impression for a place, 6th perfectly acceptable with so many young ones ahead, Mitch taking the honours. 43k's in 1:10:40 was plenty for this old bloke.
Gently on the 19 tooth sprocket to warm up on Wednesday morning, coaxing the legs from rigormortis into some sort of speed to head south. Found Cougs in Archer Rd and set off in Channel Rd for a short circuit. A bit of a push against 13km/h of north easterly, egged on for more speed had me searching for the shovel to dig deeper than the legs wanted. It was good to eventually settle into a rythym (and into a little shelter from a few trees) and the sting in the thighs to finally ease, but the north leg in Boundary was exposed a little more to the elements. Over the highway (a gentlemanly Graeme greeting from within the Supercats) there was a sense of achievement beating Borals truck to the tar, pushed onward to Old Dookie with the unleaded-cats (?) and 51 southward. A relief to have the wind help rather than hinder heading back to town, the tempo was wound up a little more. By Dobsons estate wheels were singing, toes chilling, head sweating and legs swearing, crossing the line I was soundly pipped for top speed by the supernana, a great ride to possibly end the week (if forecasts are to be believed).
Thursday morning had a mild 12.5 degrees in store with a side serve of NNE east breeze at 15 clicks. The forecast rain had yet to arrive so there was a chance to squeeze in a lap before rain stopped play. The crew of Rocket, Kenworth, FujiTrev, Cougar, FeltMat (back with better back), Nick, Temple, AvantiTrev (inspired out of bed with a double digit temperature) and Pete lined up in the carpark, all single filed behind Rocket with Kenworth out on his own. It's not the deodorant KW, just a formidable pairing of top guns frightening the troops. Underway on schedule with Temple spinning like a mixmaster, some were a little overdressed for the out-of-character temperature. I cranked up the cautionometer to 8 with FujiTrev ahead and alongside (Muntzy = 10), the variable trajectory is unfortunately back in vogue. All drove well in Boundary Rd, but Mitchell was a bit of a drag with the breeze anointing those on the starboard side. Close attention avoided the chichane pot-hole, no traffic to deal with at Central Kialla Rd, no exits to Archer today, all glued together for the long haul but we were hauled to a halt for highway traffic. Nice to have Pete along till Arcadia Downs, Rocket and Kenworth shifted into overdrive in the last 500 of Conrod, gapping us all, I was happy to pair with Temple and let them go, others voiced no protest to stay on board team two for a group finish. Recovered some oxygen in the remainder of Raftery but drops from the clouds quickly increased to a steady shower (predicting a soaking all the way home) but the road had just developed a shine when the shower stopped, a rewarding reprive from the Gods.
Miserable winter weather on Thursday night, same again Friday morning meant there were cobwebs starting to form on the bike, and rust taking hold on the joints. Tis the season.....
Week 22 311km (Young to Wallabadah) YTD 7,787km
"Bicycles are almost as good as guitars for meeting girls" Bob Weir (1947- ) US singer songwriter "Grateful Dead"
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