An interstate start to Week 33, a Sunday circuit with Cobram's "Titaniums", John, Steve, Mick, Dave and Andrew, though John rates himself more of a 'plastic'. (newbies are labelled 'play doh's') Crossed the border (without a passport) taking a northern exit from Barooga toward Berrigan, no shoulder to ride on but traffic a rarity for Sunday. Hooked a right into Coldwells Rd a few k out, little formality on rotation with this lot but strong on the smooth and steady. Interesting to hear similar theories, rights and wrongs, goods and bads from an alien bunch (we are not alone) in a small bike community. Out of the blue a pinchy little rise (Spud hill) pumped up the heart rate, Andrew showing he's the polka dot master. The undulating vista of vineyards and canola beyond was pleasing, but the turn south (Back Barooga Rd) had a7k stretch of headwind just for me to test my resolve on the front. Relieved to reach the Barooga Rd, and over another little rise, a long gradual descent back to town filled in a 35k lap, company warm but the post ride coffee was tepid.
After missing the Cat express for a few weeks (deliberate, not dawdling) I finally climbed aboard at the Notre Dame station Monday morning, finding most were '51 engine drivers, Cat numbers way down from a weekend of Melbourne mischief. No show from BigMat (as true as a politicians promise) but Ronny, Bo, Tum, GentlemanGraham and 3 others set sail on the Old Dookie expressway, single file being called at Dobsons estate. BigBrad, Brett and another joined in from an earlier lap to make a dozen driving east, one delegated OTA in the first few metres of Boundary. I felt suprisingly on form taking the reigns after Bo's blast, glad the Garmin was unlit, hiding the heart stress. Big focus on the wheel ahead distracted the location, suprised to cover a lot of ground un-noticed. Graham reartired in River Rd, a yellowed supermoon lit the direction west. It was an advantage to be in BigBrad's tow but the headwind reality hurt when his elbow flicked my promotion to the pointy end. I was pondering what this Vespa was doing in a MotoGP race as Jason joined in, resigning myself to doing a last gasp before Roubaix, but was quickly sucked back into the rotation again. It was increasingly hard to latch back onto the last wheel after a turn, my swansong was out of Conrod's dipper, Brett showing superior firepower in the sprint to the line. All over but for the gasping, there were a couple of Strava PB's to take home and a SuperCat lap in the bag @ 37.5
A kilometre craving Monday arvo with forthcoming long events on the calandar, me somewhat under prepared on distance unless time is devoted to the Fizik. An anti-clockwise Toaster lap got off to a squeezy start, a keen Commodore invading a metre into the bike lane bend I was apexing was a bit invasive (a millimetre matters?) Appropriate gesticulation delivered. Less than a minute later, a vacuous Volvo crept into my path from a stop sign, duely rapping a fist on the drivers window woke the quarter wit (half wit would be exaggerating) into my right of way. Once the fury had simmered, I'd settled into a cool cadence, but fighting a 20+k SSW breeze out Raftery. Thanks be to an anti-clockwise decision, tail-winds were to come. Stuck into a steady rhythm on Mitchell Rd, the shadows drew long, an orange backlight of the setting sun warming the mood but not the skin. It was a tailwind reward headed north on Boundary Rd, Deadmau5 tapping out an i-pod metronome syncronised with the 56/15. The sun sank with the temperature (now 6), Dookie's hills just visible in the last light en route to the Toaster. Had a decent dip at the Church to Channel segment (2nd fastest) but quickly reserved the pennies to spend on the long drag home. The chilled southerly was cutting through most of the layers, extra circulation was needed to warm the old engine but muscles were voicing objections. Perseverence old boy, perseverence. Zoned out on the distance to dinner, just ground out a smooth cadence and the kilometres would look after themselves. Arrived at Rudd Rd sooner than expected, the headwind home overcome by thoughts of a hot shower & meal.
Woke to find a squishy Michelin Tuesday morning, fortuitously fixed but the flat front played on the nerves of imagined deflation for the entire lap. Not quite tropical at minus two, I queued up on cue at the Couldabeens carpark, drawing the short straw between Rocket and PistolPete (deja vu) again. Hopes of many hands making light work were frozen with only Kenworth, Shane and FeltMat added to the ride recipe. My turn at the front wasn't till leg three, but the additional leg 4 with Pete took the toll, a legacy of 100k yesterday emptying the jar. Contributions at the chilled and windy end came quickly with just 5 in the rotation, FeltMat constrained to one lap a week. (twice the effort of WhisperingJack though) Served my sentence beside Rocket from the two bridges to River Rd, the aim beside Pistol was long but the delivery a bit short, Pete gracious in donating an early draft. My turn to Mitchell's dog-leg earned a "well done" from Shane, credit created credence causing contentment, but not a lot left in my tank. Stood on the gas up Mt Nicolaci (a mediocre attempt to roll a turn after Rocket) and again at Raftery's horse stud had me running on empty. Rocket led the troops into Conrod, Pete and Kenworth in pursuit, while Shane, FeltMat and I hung on to finish, the line a very welcome sight.
New front rim tape replaced the old tatty one (irritating the puncture this morning), it had served well for 93,000k. Searchng for a steady tap on the Toaster (instead of a tortuous toasting) prompted a lap with Wozza (back on the bike after a weeks' hols), giving the hospital bunch a miss Tuesday night . Out the Boulvard in just ten degrees, and layered appropriately, a clear night promised cooler. Through the Ford/Verney roundabout 7 minutes ahead of the big bunch took some pressure off, settling into a steady tap with a light SSW over the right shoulder. Effort picked up a bit pointing south as the breeze swung to a southerly, legs the weak link tonight rather than h.r or lungs. The shelter in Old Dookie Rd didn't allow much of my reserves to renew for Boundary, young Wozza spinning at a good rate despite the week off the seat. Concensus was reached doing the full lap, glad to reach River Rd and take the breeze off the brow. I tucked into the 4 o'clock draft in Wozza's wake, bike lights just visible way behind as we crested the dip. Swapping long turns came into play, maybe both feeling we'd become carrots for the hospital hit squad looming a few k in arrears. I'd finally got into some pace in Mitchell Rd and into a positive frame sensing a tail breeze for Raftery. Speed wound up from Roubaix to Conrod, but Wozz had the wattage to drive into the 40's from the dipper, a good lap done as the mercury dropped to 6, well ahead of the crew chasing.
15km/h worth of southerly Wednesday morning put a grind on the gastrocnemius and ripped at the rectus femorus on the commute to the Couldabeens start line, thankfully Cougar, Wozza, Shorty, Rocket, Shane, FeltMat and Temple were there to share the load. Three degrees was above the AvantiTrev and Nick threshold, but doonitis had obviously overpowered their attendance. There was work to be done reaching Mitchell Rd, then smooth sailing for the remainder of the lap to enjoy. Light early on the horizon pleased all, a long Cat train slipped into the dip, tail-lights ahead of us drove our motivation. Shane stole the front for Boundary's tail-wind, at least Channel Rd was largely sheilded from the southerly for the leg home. We'd rounded up a six pack of Breakaways steadily steaming west at the cypress trees, I could swear traindriver Temple's chest measurement swelled in the process. Back to civilisation in good time, a raisin toast reward for a half week tally of 290k's.
A bike birthday Thursday, 10 years since since part number 80 91 0 139 773 came out of the box and first turned a wheel. 175,000 k's covered since, a few prangs, lots of places seen and people met. (Bit scary, 4.3 laps of the globe or 3,237 Toaster laps) To wax philisophical, the inanimate object became a lifeline to drag me through two retrenchments, a divorce and lifes little pot holes inbetween, giving a lot of enjoyment, achievement and a little fitness on the way.
Gathered with the Goats on Thursday, wheels turned at 6 but the track turns didn't till well beyond Dobsons. The sedate start suited. Heady, BigPaul, Hommy, Bickers Snr, Snowman, Tum, Kate, AvantiLeigh, AvantiAndrew, Sandy and GiantPaul settled into a steady beat beyond Central Ave making good progress to Boundary, Dr Pete, coming from the Toaster, joining in to make a bakers dozen. A little light fog to navigate as the mercury zeroed, no wind to battle but River Rd felt a whisker easier. A few had bowed out of the turns to survive in the draft, the usual considerate and respectful exits on corners and intersections kept the bunch bunched. An illumination altercation with a truck wasn't comfortable, I guess our 13 l.e.d.'s (some aimed high?) rattled the guy into a high beam payback. Exiting Roubaix, Tum put the beaters into the mix and wound up the speed to form frothy peaks with a little curdling at the rear. AvantiLeigh, Hommy and I added a little spice till we rose from the Conrod dipper, well cooked. I found a few last watts to drive to the front to give old faithful BMW a birthday present of chocolates at the finish line.
Yet another minus day to end an icy week, the Kialla congregation of Cougar, Rocket, Wozza and Shane are all that remain ranked winter warriors. (PistolPete excused with corked calf) Five Breakaways departed dangling a distant lure, a chilled Archer Rd southerly for us to drive against. A little more comfortable in Mitchell Rd (what am I saying? minus 1!), the Breakaways were rounded up in Central Kialla. On the front in River Rd beside Shane, I discovered driving duties darned difficult, da dude doubled Daniel's distance, dis dilapidated dinosaur duely debased, diametrically disposed, doing detrimental deficiency dramas, dichotomous dillemas daresay driving determination. Doing deliberately? Doubtful. A big Cat collective drove west on freaky fridge Friday as I dragged myself eastward, wondering if the mind drives the body or the body drives the mind? The chicken or the egg? Hopes on a lifted spirit finally came good in Channel Rd, lifting the limbs and lungs into improved speed and comfort. Maybe this old engine just needs better warm up time? (Warm up?......Minus one?!) Hope springs eternal, bring in Spring!
Week 33 371km YTD 8,886
Word of the Week
"Cadunce" (noun) A stupid crank speed.
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