Under the doona listening to a therapeutic soundtrack of steady rain Saturday morning, many millimeters of H2O deprived us junkies of our regular ride fix. The mornings' Methodone turned out to be comradery over breakfast at the Lemontree, fine tuning jersey Mk2. Foreigners to bikes (?) BigMat and Temple joined regular devotees Rocket, Cougar, AvantiTrev, Shorty and SuperMario with in depth analysis of the Giro whilst carbo loading for something.
An overwhelming urge to get a lap in on Sunday morning despite the pea-souper fog. A transition to porridge, raisins and honey to fill the tank (providing a little internal heating) signals Winter is about to knock at the door. A billion little water drops were lit up in the headlight at 7, new tail-light batteries in to prevent becoming a semi's speed bump, and off for a lap against the clock (but only it's direction). Mothers Day had kept most
off two wheels, Cougar keen to tap out a Toaster tour. The atmostphere loaded with water made progress like pushing through treacle, soaking arms and legs, each bump causing a helmet shower. Roubaix's rubbish tip is an eyesore when grand gums piercing the fog were on display. We'd settled into Mitchell Rd to find wardrobes dumped in the tabledrains, at least River Rd was furniture free, serene but for a few birds chirping. A clockwise bike near the fig farm affirmed our insanity / dedication (*strike out that which is not applicable). Plenty of caution on the turns to avoid doing a Dan Martin, plugged away on Old Dookie up to the Toaster then the 3k north to the Emu (lambs aplenty but no Emu security) Another bike oncoming was short on reply, just a hint easier on the westward leg home searching for the smooth groove of well worn wheel tracks. Bandana and gloves were soaked through now, but plenty of internal warmth kept things bearable. A few more bikes in ones and twos were now braving the day but we'd earned a caffine fix, worth hacking through the Mothers Day cafe crowds. A decent scrub of the bike when home, lighter now the weight of dead worms, mud and road grime have been removed.
A wire brushed throat started Monday, 5 degrees may not have been the best prescription, no fog to deal with at least. The habit of Channel, Boundary and Old Dookie was enough, hoping to purge this flu like affliction. Gradually hardening to the single figure temperatures but pondered the sore arse, cold cramps, chilled blasts from oncoming cars, puddle water up the inside leg, glasses fogging, pot holes, blackened surroundings, filling lungs with iced air, a filthy bike, nose running.....ah the joys of riding in winter! And it's not yet winter! Early Cats spied southbound at Channels end, a usual parade of ones, twos and other incognito packs gradually being downsized by temperature. When the going gets tough....
Running a bit late Tuesday, the rear tyre losing 35psi overnight had doubts flooding the head. A pronto commute to the Couldabeens start was without need, only 4 at the grid, 8 more filtering in with 2 minutes to go (all timed to be towed the first 4k?) Kenworth's wheel was a good sit for leg 1, Mark and Trish climbing aboard at Doyles. Jase, Rocket, PistolPete, HBK, Trav, Nick, Shorty, FeltMat, Shane, Avanti & WobblyTrev made up the team to drive out Channel Rd, a pause for a courteous JT b-double at Orrvale Rd. Beside Trav to the kinder then the wait for the wick to burn down on HBK and Pistols turn at the business end. Shorty, Trish, FeltMat and the two Trevs were the tail-lights (under the circumstances), Channel's end arriving quickly. Most had PR's on the Broken River Blast, into the big cogs for Mitchell Rd with HBK into the roaring 40's. Mark was the meat in a half bike sandwich (guess who and Pistol) but to his credit, survived. I still had doubts on the rear tyre pressure but the croak in the throat was the bigger respiratory restriction. Kenworth poured on the power up Mt Nicolaci which confirmed my last turn in the drivers seat, a swansong to Rafterys right hander was my limit. Hung on as the stakes were raised at Arcadia Downs, the rubber band stretching in the final 200, FeltMat suddenly finding form but it was Rocket mocking all (but in his usual unasuming manner)
Had the voice of Barry White on Wednesday but the throat felt as sexy as 30 grit sandpaper. PistolPete, Nick, Trav, Shorty, SuperMario, AvantiTrev, Cougar, Shane, Rocket, WobblyTrev and WobblyMick were in better shape at Kialla Lakes. A magnified moon in Euskatel orange melted into the western horizon for our viewing pleasure in Archer Rd, the long lamented traffic lights now stripped from the new roundabout. A long haul to the ring road with Pistol had my lungs begging for a reprive. WobblyMick braved a self appointed promotion to the front in River Rd, the harsh reality of slicing through the atmostphere and a little headwind had him demoted quickly, then demoralised on the Col de Chanel (bridge) ascent, wiping off 5 to stay alive. Rivers' usually long stretch seemed a little shorter today, a nice drive by Shane, Pistol & Rocket, but I called Pistol over a little earlier sensing imminent respitory failure. Some positioning needed whilst northbound to combat the breeze then it was hoist the mainsail for Channel Rd's breeze back home. Tail light temptation on the way back (Breakaways ahead) kept the hurry up, I had to dig deep for the Channel Rd Cha Cha (Prentice Rd dash finally named), at least Pistol diplomatically tolerated my ordinary speed. Very frustrating when the old body won't deliver what the mind has ordered. (Internal memo to suck it up Princess) The bunch divided at Archer, police diverting us northerners round a flattened pooch (more like a small horse)
Took to Channel Rd's tarmac east early Thursday, not wanting my foss flu to be the Couldabeens ball & chain. A 15k northeaster was as welcome as Hockey's hypocrisy (the Budget) but I was travelling a lot better than yesterday. Distant tail lights ahead were meandering Mexicans, out to hitch a ride on the Cat train. The Old Dookie/Boundary intersection was busy with Cats south, 51 east and Goats westward, an overcast sky making a mild 12 degrees. Nice to tune out from daily dramas, dilemmas and disasters with a dose of distraction on the bike, all too soon it was back to town and the reality of life off two wheels.
On the downward slope of the lurgy (400 grit sandpaper) the Thursday evening prescription was a Library bunch lap. A hopeful line up of Specialised Tony, Paul, Dazza, Clive, Harpo, Jamie, Dalton, Kev, Hamish and Andrew took to the Boulevard at 6, relishing a somewhat mild 15 degrees. A yarn with Harpo & Jamie as Hamish spun heat into his legs, Andrew well into his bunch apprenticeship. There was an ENE to tackle from Wanganui Rd onward, good to add Legal Steve then Mitch and Dion to the contributors in Ford Rd. I made an abridged effort up front for as long as lungs would carry me, Kev and Legal Steve most obliging. Andrew had a decent go but had used all his jellybeans before rolling over, an empty jar rolling to the front left, soon slipping down the ranks to draft, defeated. (a module done in everyone's apprenticeship I'd guess) LegalSteve braved short sleeves and legs, much moonlight made navigation easy to the Emu, Toaster and beyond, Andrew turned tail for home. Pace picked up with the wind at our backs in Old Dookie where Deano was found loitering, I took another shift at the front in Boundary, just a bit longer till the 170bpm begged a draft from LegalSteve. Jamie and Harpo took Harpo Rd home (Channel cheats!) just as Deano and Mitch wound up the watts to the bridges. There were more PB's for the Broken River Blast (40+) as the movers drove to River Rd, some settling for River Rd though. Out of the dipper Paul and Dalton ramped up the rhumba splitting the bunch, Mitch, Deano, Dion and Kev responding, the rest opting for survival mode at high 30's. Kev had second thoughts at the Kialla Hall, dropping back to join Specialised Tony. Dazza, LegalSteve and Clive for our combined effort to finish, albeit 3 minutes behind the guns who got away.
Arrived just as the green flag dropped at the Kialla roundabout Friday morning, hard work to be done first with a push into a northeaster (flavour of the week) along Mitchell Rd, Rocket, Shorty, HBK, Shane, PistolPete, Cougar and AvantiTrev sharing the load. Shane is now the well seasoned pro in the drivers seat, I just need the lungs and legs of a thirty something to keep up. HBK and PistolPete were the chilli and tabasco in River Rd's relish, word up to Shorty offering himself as the sacrificial lamb to follow up their pace. The Breakaways braved the brunt of breeze brandishing brawn, brazenly breaking bromance (satisfying sisterhood). My limit was stretched long northward to the Broken bridges despite being second wheel to (the slim) Pistol (well, that's my excuse) but salvation came in Channel Rd with an assisting wind behind (shame about the testicularly deficient, barnacle brained alpha male insisted on high beam and a few thousand lumens from his driving lights toward us to challenge our navigation) I only had reserves for a half turn for the Channel Rd Cha Cha, the end wasn't yet in sight but hope had already crossed the finishing line
Week 20 : 322km YTD 5,714km
Word of the Week
"Flast" (adjective) The absolute maximum speed possible yet crossing the line at the back of the bunch.
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