The lights went out on the roll to Saturdays lap, volts went missing between battery and lamp to cause concern in the 5.45am dark, no amount of wriggling leads and plug cured the blackness. A cautious roll along the best lit streets till ChrisA happened along to shed light (and comfort) for my commute. Safety in numbers at the start with Temple, Nick, Cougar, Shane, Trav and Shorty, a few regulars missing with the evening's Criterium and the Round the Bay ahead. FeltMat was cruising west as we departed east, twice the work for us to do with just half the usual attendees. Two years of Saturdays spent with these villans now, only 7 fronted on the inaugural lap with a 10% slower average so perseverance pays. The same familiar sights, sounds and smells on the same track, a chance to digest and dish out some social intercourse not usually possible in the huff and puff of the weekday thrash. We were almost to Central Ave when Rocket and FeltMat came into view on a cruise, preserving the legs for bigger things. Itchy for tempo at DECA, slingshot Shane bolted for an assault on Wanganui hill inciting Temple to pursue, Shorty left high and dry at the bunch front. Sympathy beckoned me to donate tow truck duties to the single filed remainder, soon catching Temple on the ascent and Shane throttling off in Rudd Rd. Sprinting steam vapourised to socially slow through town, a traditional topping of tall talk at the Lemontree.
A border weekend prompted a Titaniums' tour on Sunday, weather worth a lap anywhere really. Plenty assembled at the Mookarii and Brepbir corner (no, not downtown Kiev, but g'day to the 16 usual Ukrainian readers) in an ideal 13 degrees, Steve, John, Giff, Sandra, Howie, The Mullet and Arfa arriving to fill the ranks to 20. Eight bells chimed the start, crossing the border (and not seeking assylum) on a very thin bike lane with a roadside Echidna send off. A two row bunch formed on Barooga's exit, a timekeeper calling five minute turns at the front, with a peculiar peel off to the right for the two leaders to rejoin at the back, exposing the next two for duty. Oh well, when in Rome...... Five minutes out of town it was my turn at the pointy end with The Mullet, gradually measuring me up to 38 clicks against a 15k northeaster for 3 k's. This treatment must be their immigration policy? The timekeeper took no pity, the five minute call seemed an eternity. Much relief when it did come, strange that the cruising speed settled back to 31 after. A mixed bag of riders and bikes were sorted into a pecking order on the Spud Hill climb, a sharp little rise on a remote sandhill, I was delighted to be midfield at the peak (on the big ring of course!) and not O.T.A. Nudging 50 on the descent spread the pack like Brown's cows, at least there was a courteous slow on the Back Barooga Rd to re-unite with those who went missing in action. The NNE blew us along for the 6k's to the Mulwala Rd, then bearing west to town and winding up the knots to climb "have a dip" hill. A sprint to finish is standard fare for most bunches, a thrash on Buchanan's Rd climb scored me an 8th overall to earn a post ride calorie and caffine injection, the roll back to town saddened with the echidna now a speed hump.
Rigged up a temporary light for a short lap Monday, enough to shed some lumens a few metres ahead but barely registering on the confidence meter. A stiff southerly (28-35 km/h) had all the effort stops pulled out to reach Channel Rd, a distant tail light ahead becoming an unreachable bait. Pistol Pete was seen at the S bend on his trek west, I was making no inroads on the bike ahead so relaxed the internal target, enjoying the helping hand breeze on the route north. The red l.e.d. lure had vanished as I reached the fig farm, a decision for pure variation to take New Dookie Rd home to satisfy change for the sake of it. Concerns of being seen subsided with the sun risen, quite a push home with the southerly shoving the wheels about. New Dookie's coarse surface felt like the handbrake on, plenty of potholes to pound the posterior too (no forgiveness from an alloy bike) . With little traffic to fight, I was home early, a Strava download revealing I'd unwittingly stalked Wozza just a few minutes in arrears on an identical lap!
No reply from the manufacturer on parts for the temperamental headlamp (with seperate battery pack and dodgy lead) so it's gone OTA for a nifty new self contained 110g Cygolight, piercing Tuesday mornings darkness with 500 lumens, an enlightened ride to the Couldabeens start with Wozz, Whispering Jack on the grid attempting to get his speedo to function. (clearing copious cobwebs?) A rush of entries in the final minutes (BigMat, Rocket, Cougar, PistolPete, Nick, Temple, Kenworth, AvantiTrev, Trav and Chops) put Wozz and I in charge of first turn, FeltMat (well wearied from Sunday's 250k round the Bay) joining in at Kensington. Barely a puff of ENE managed to shorten breath at the front, pleased that a good sized bunch gave a chance of recovery before duty called again. Sosso was caught and passed just over the Boundary Rd bridges, I became the meat in a South African sandwich between Temple's tenacious tempo and Wozza's wicked warp drive. Mitchell Rd appeared an eternity away from River Rd, 2k of train driving with Wozz with the fuse rapidly shortening and hoping I'd reach the target roll-over before the explosion. Made the change point just shy of meltdown, then hung on grimly for a tow to compose the heart rate before the next turn came. A truck emerged suddenly in Central Kialla Rd catching me off guard, a brake lock up and veer stage left avoided becoming a Bedford bumperbar. FeltMat and WhisperingJack had gone awol when I snuck a look back at Mt Nicolaci (the tiny three metre dip and rise in Mitchell Rd for the Seven creeks bridge), the remainder all congealling on the slow wind-up to speed once over the highway. Rotations had turned short and serious after Roubaix, Trav bravely venturing forward to the front with Rocket (where others feared to tread) at the entry to Conrod. All the contenders had single filed behind going into the dip, playing a waiting game with the finish line still a spec on the horizon. Rocket retook the lead to Trav's relief, but launched his sprint with 500 to go, Kenworth kaboomed, Wozza wilted and Pistol popped to leave me for a "do or die" push for the crumbs of second place, contributing a tow to the retirees. A respectful regroup at the little bridge for a team plod through town, recovering breath, discussing what-ifs and tactics and estimating averages.
Colluded with Wozz to head out on the Toaster lap Tuesday arvo a little before the hospital bunch, to judge their tempo (and our ability to stay aboard) when they caught us. Perfect mid twenties weather allowed a quick kit-up, none of the multiple layers needed to survive the past months. A north northeast wind furrowed the brow on the long stretch east, crossing the Verney roundabout 6 minutes ahead of the hospital hit squad. Nath then Deano were seen heading west to intercept, hinting the horsepower following. The long drag of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd was boiling the determination along with the heart rate, only a car or two to offer a few seconds of draft as relief. Collective sighs at the Emu to have the breeze at our left shoulder, fair caution at the long grass lined intersections for traffic (in light of the mornings' close call). Going was good in Old Dookie Rd but better in Boundary, a peer rearward had no sign of the pursuing peleton. A Channel Rd escape was off the list, slogging out River Rd's 6 k's was on, with an eye behind for the inquisition, plenty of airbourne protein active with dusk inviting a million insects to party. Spring's first snake (a deceased Brown) was at Rivers' end, a little urgency in the pace built with the hospital bunch still not sighted. Legs had jellied by Mitchell Rd (particularly when asked to ascend Mt Nicolaci), Wozz and I scheming to go single file after Roubaix in an effort to maintain the pace for the headwind home. Swapping turns till the last 500 got us to the line spent but satisfied, the expected bunch (brimming with potent wattage) suddenly appearing hot on our case just 300 metres behind. A little overwhelmed playing pace car through town for the Formula One's behind.
Limp legs Wednesday morning, a slow start down the main street toward a Couldabeens start was helped with an assisting northeaster, Wozz similarly worn but we were both happy to take the first grid positions for the tailwinded southbound leg of Archer. AvantiChris, WhisperingJack, PistolPete, Cougar, Rocket, Shorty, Nick, Coggo and Shane all relished the mild 13 degrees but the east and northbound sections promised work to be done. We crossed paths with the hurt lockerette (2) in Central Kialla, peak hour traffic in River Rd with the licorice allsorts colours of the Mexicans, a Cat train bigger than Ben Hur, 51 at warp speed, the Breakaways soaking up speed, Fitzy and other assorted soloist, capped of with the P&W's greet near Rivers' end. Shane and Pistol fought out the headwind and the who-has-the-wheel-ahead honours in Boundary Rd, Shorty at second wheel praying they's see it out to Channel Rd. My legs had come good by the s bends, timely with Jack's attack to the Kinder then the Wozz and Trav strike force for the Channel Rd Cha Cha, steaming along to Orrvale Rd scoring me a second fastest Cha Cha and a third for the Devils lane dash. So much for recovery Wednesdays.
Summer had arrived early Thursday, balmy temperatures drawing out Goats from all corners, baring legs and arms not seen for many months. Nearly twenty congregated at Friars for Coggo's limber-up session and Hommy's humour but at 6am it was down to business, Coggo and I in the pilots seats to taxi the train out of town, Cat tail-lights ahead acting as our runway. The rotating sequence began beyond the truck route, Bickers Snr, LegalAndy, Bazza, Dipper, AvantiLeigh, Kate and Tum rolled by, Sandy, Comet, Tina and Deb made the femme fatale foursome line astern, Heady, Leon, Hommy, Wazza, Sootie, Liam and back to Coggo, then repeat as neccessary. It was a track turn apprenticeship for Wozza but great was the smoothness out Old Dookie Rd, Area 51 from the east entering Boundary Rd just ahead of us, Cats in their scope. A hint of southerly breeze was felt on the route to River Rd, 51's tail-lights steadily drawing away into the distance on their moggy mission. Only a few Goats retired to sit on, the westward run to Central Kialla impressively driven with most of the girls still contributing pace aplenty. A good call for an approaching truck at River's end halted proceedings briefly, our train soon got all its wheels turning again, humming down to Mitchell then across to the highway for the serious steaming to commence. Into the final k of Raftery Rd with improving odds of a podium sitting on Coggo's wheel, I was hopeful at 3rd wheel with 200 metres left. Sprint junkie Hommy detached from my wheel and suprisingly snuck inside and under Coggo, victory vapours flaring in his nostrils. It was launch or lose for me with just a 100 metres left, off the seat to amplify the Cosmics, 190bpm and 53 clicks just enough to score the chocolates.
Succumbed to the sloth of a sleep-in Friday, enough k's for the week, tempting though to Stravaspy on others Freaky Friday escapades.
Week 43: 305km YTD 11,908 km
Word of the Week
"Sprinterloper" (noun) a rider who fails to contribute to the teamwork,
yet intrudes into the contention for final victory.
Friday, October 24, 2014
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Week 42 Peleton prostitution
Good to get back into a Saturday lap after a fortnight awol, a few extras filled the ranks at the carpark in the quest for extra k's. ChrisA, Dion, GT Craig and Dalts joined in with regulars Rocket, Shane, Shorty, Temple, AvantiChris, Avanti(Grandpa)Trev and Nick, waiting a minute for tardy SuperMario to arrive, threats of his shout for coffee as pennance. Tap tap on the regular course with the usual social scuttlebutt, speeches and sledges, a few infringements of speed going un-noticed. The sun's getting up a minute or two earlier each day to motivate summer, Shane and Dion motivating the pace along to the Toaster. Dalts and ChrisA disengaged turns in preparation for a u-turn to hitch a Cat ride, a solitary bike ahead i.d.'d by the flouro shoes as new dad Nath, our chorus of babies wails taken as congratulations. A steady tap along the length of Lemnos-Cosgrove, Ford and Wanganui roads, a bit of a blast up the Wanganui hill to earn our breakfast, and a roll through town to enjoy yarns on villans, kidney stones and bike longevity
Drank a litre of concrete Monday morning and attended another Cat lap, a baptism of fire after a cruisy weekend of little bike activity. Numbers were down but quality overrode quantity with BigBen, G, Dipper, Cobbles, Jarrod, Simon, Phil, Sly and others. The strong southwesterly may have kept a few indoors but a mild 11 degrees was a bonus (even braved the short knicks), a clockwise rotation eastbound on Old Dookie Rd had the scenery blurring by but was quickly frozen at Central Ave for a cars' sudden arrival. BigBrad, Bomber and Eggy arrived in Boundary Rd to lengthen the odds and shorten the breath, a chase was on to reach two bikes ahead (with no concession for the headwind) to River Rd. Fox and Minto were soon caught, I'd contributed turns till Laws Drive when the mental handbrake came on, an intermission in the rear seats to settle heart rate if I was to survive. A gap opened on the turn toward Kialla Central, I was soon left at the front of the tailenders to claw back the deficit, burning up what little recovery was made a minute earlier. A few ventured forward when the speed had settled in Mitchell Rd, so I put my two bob's worth in at the front till serious horsepower struck again. Thoughts has switched to survival mode once over the highway, a sudden arrival of a 4x4 at the sharp turn before Roubaix got the bunch sharply into order. 40km/h out of Roubaix and 45 by Arcadia Downs confirmed my commitment as an 'also-rode', nudging 50 for Conrod straight and hanging on the back with several others, the finish line couldn't come soon enough. Relief came crossing the line, endorphins of finishing overpowered complaining muscles, a bonus tailwind home was a trophy to go with a PR for the Crit sprint.
4am showers and 30-40km/h southerlys signalled a sleep-in Tuesday, a rapidly drying road at 6 infected thoughts with remorse, rump rewarded respite though. The southerly still blew Wednesday, my failed headlight battery caused a rush to swap volts and bolt to the start, catching every red light en route it seems. Mental mapping of shortcuts were being planned but a chance draft from a small truck delivered me to the back of the Couldabeens bunch as the team entered Archer Rd. I managed to speak sentences with AvantiChris and Chops after a kilometre of respiratory recovery at the back, much better to be in Mitchell Rd's side wind . On the front with Rocket (tempered from Tuesday nights tempest) for the Central Kialla leg saw a lone bike approaching from the truck route, LateLeigh (aka LeighMac) typically tardy 20 minutes in arrears in search of the Cats. Bearing east on River Rd tested AvantiChris's limit, puffs turned to nods turned to wobbles at 2nd wheel in the attempt to keep in touch with Trav's tempo. A long Cat train blurred by at the dip, Chris staying glued as Pistol & Rocket ripped up River. I felt guilty taking Boundary Rd's tailwind when others had battled the odds prior, but the Channel Rd payback levelled the score. Chops had Pistol to match (yet again) into the southwester, Trav driving a hard bargain against me at the front made it a daily double. A Garmin beep at the school said satellites lost, not till town did it restore reading.
Plenty of Goats assembled at Friars on Thursday, all awaiting proper Spring weather. Hommy spread the sledges as the numbers built till six bells summoned a start, 16 rolling out Old Dookie Rd in the wake of the Cat collective. Sandy must be on Kellogs Nitrograin, Coggo is back from billiard table rides in Sydney, Tum & Kate have returned from trans Tasman tripping, and the usual brief sentence spoken with many others. It's rather satisfying to be pushing along nudging 40, track turns measured in metres making it acheivable, a big difference to turns measured in kilometres with other groups . The Fossilosophy is we all gravitate to what's doable, enjoyable, social satisfying and releases the right quantities of endorphines at the end. We hadn't lost touch with the tail lights ahead in River Rd, despite the westsouthwester taking the polish off the speed, more than a dozen still contributing wattage to the cause at the front. (impressed that Kate, Tina and Sandy were still hammering out fast turns). Over the highway and round Roubaix (the corrugated tarmac turn in Raftery that rattles the fillings and the nerves) speed began to fill the rear ranks, I'd resolved to call it quits and let others unleash the fury in Conrod, Dipper, AvantiLeigh, CerveloJohn, Tum and Hommy all in the final 300 metre thrash for glory to Steptoe's house, me on a go slow, going with the flow, with Snow in tow.
To properly prostitute myself for the week it was a lap with the P&W's Friday, Minto, Fox and Meags the only takers, Princess a no show. The booming band of Breakaways behind building before blast-off , it was chocks away for us, Meags as rear gunner, vehemently vanquishing viral vices. Up to Central Ave with Minto, then to Boundary with Fox, a light southeaster to keep us occupied. Duty called again from the pub to River Rd, Minto ramping up the pace. Fox's roll over with 3k's of River Rd done was appreciated, 6 eastbound Couldabeens greeted, enjoying the breeze behind. A freaky Friday lookout behind us saw a very distant bunch in pursuit, worth a peek again at the highway (to avert a Cat-astrophe). Minto pushed the pace again to the Kialla Hall, Fox driving the same up to Roubaix. By Conrod straight the 51/Cat pack was rapidly closing in, with 500 to go Eggy and 51 bullet train hammered past, copious Cats in tow, clutching the caboose. A yarn with ArgonDave and Tum on the mornings' attendance (guesstimated at 45) was chewed over on the roll home through the suburb.
Week 42: 220km YTD 11,603 km
Word of the Week
"Cyclost" (noun) A rider without bearings or direction
Drank a litre of concrete Monday morning and attended another Cat lap, a baptism of fire after a cruisy weekend of little bike activity. Numbers were down but quality overrode quantity with BigBen, G, Dipper, Cobbles, Jarrod, Simon, Phil, Sly and others. The strong southwesterly may have kept a few indoors but a mild 11 degrees was a bonus (even braved the short knicks), a clockwise rotation eastbound on Old Dookie Rd had the scenery blurring by but was quickly frozen at Central Ave for a cars' sudden arrival. BigBrad, Bomber and Eggy arrived in Boundary Rd to lengthen the odds and shorten the breath, a chase was on to reach two bikes ahead (with no concession for the headwind) to River Rd. Fox and Minto were soon caught, I'd contributed turns till Laws Drive when the mental handbrake came on, an intermission in the rear seats to settle heart rate if I was to survive. A gap opened on the turn toward Kialla Central, I was soon left at the front of the tailenders to claw back the deficit, burning up what little recovery was made a minute earlier. A few ventured forward when the speed had settled in Mitchell Rd, so I put my two bob's worth in at the front till serious horsepower struck again. Thoughts has switched to survival mode once over the highway, a sudden arrival of a 4x4 at the sharp turn before Roubaix got the bunch sharply into order. 40km/h out of Roubaix and 45 by Arcadia Downs confirmed my commitment as an 'also-rode', nudging 50 for Conrod straight and hanging on the back with several others, the finish line couldn't come soon enough. Relief came crossing the line, endorphins of finishing overpowered complaining muscles, a bonus tailwind home was a trophy to go with a PR for the Crit sprint.
4am showers and 30-40km/h southerlys signalled a sleep-in Tuesday, a rapidly drying road at 6 infected thoughts with remorse, rump rewarded respite though. The southerly still blew Wednesday, my failed headlight battery caused a rush to swap volts and bolt to the start, catching every red light en route it seems. Mental mapping of shortcuts were being planned but a chance draft from a small truck delivered me to the back of the Couldabeens bunch as the team entered Archer Rd. I managed to speak sentences with AvantiChris and Chops after a kilometre of respiratory recovery at the back, much better to be in Mitchell Rd's side wind . On the front with Rocket (tempered from Tuesday nights tempest) for the Central Kialla leg saw a lone bike approaching from the truck route, LateLeigh (aka LeighMac) typically tardy 20 minutes in arrears in search of the Cats. Bearing east on River Rd tested AvantiChris's limit, puffs turned to nods turned to wobbles at 2nd wheel in the attempt to keep in touch with Trav's tempo. A long Cat train blurred by at the dip, Chris staying glued as Pistol & Rocket ripped up River. I felt guilty taking Boundary Rd's tailwind when others had battled the odds prior, but the Channel Rd payback levelled the score. Chops had Pistol to match (yet again) into the southwester, Trav driving a hard bargain against me at the front made it a daily double. A Garmin beep at the school said satellites lost, not till town did it restore reading.
Plenty of Goats assembled at Friars on Thursday, all awaiting proper Spring weather. Hommy spread the sledges as the numbers built till six bells summoned a start, 16 rolling out Old Dookie Rd in the wake of the Cat collective. Sandy must be on Kellogs Nitrograin, Coggo is back from billiard table rides in Sydney, Tum & Kate have returned from trans Tasman tripping, and the usual brief sentence spoken with many others. It's rather satisfying to be pushing along nudging 40, track turns measured in metres making it acheivable, a big difference to turns measured in kilometres with other groups . The Fossilosophy is we all gravitate to what's doable, enjoyable, social satisfying and releases the right quantities of endorphines at the end. We hadn't lost touch with the tail lights ahead in River Rd, despite the westsouthwester taking the polish off the speed, more than a dozen still contributing wattage to the cause at the front. (impressed that Kate, Tina and Sandy were still hammering out fast turns). Over the highway and round Roubaix (the corrugated tarmac turn in Raftery that rattles the fillings and the nerves) speed began to fill the rear ranks, I'd resolved to call it quits and let others unleash the fury in Conrod, Dipper, AvantiLeigh, CerveloJohn, Tum and Hommy all in the final 300 metre thrash for glory to Steptoe's house, me on a go slow, going with the flow, with Snow in tow.
To properly prostitute myself for the week it was a lap with the P&W's Friday, Minto, Fox and Meags the only takers, Princess a no show. The booming band of Breakaways behind building before blast-off , it was chocks away for us, Meags as rear gunner, vehemently vanquishing viral vices. Up to Central Ave with Minto, then to Boundary with Fox, a light southeaster to keep us occupied. Duty called again from the pub to River Rd, Minto ramping up the pace. Fox's roll over with 3k's of River Rd done was appreciated, 6 eastbound Couldabeens greeted, enjoying the breeze behind. A freaky Friday lookout behind us saw a very distant bunch in pursuit, worth a peek again at the highway (to avert a Cat-astrophe). Minto pushed the pace again to the Kialla Hall, Fox driving the same up to Roubaix. By Conrod straight the 51/Cat pack was rapidly closing in, with 500 to go Eggy and 51 bullet train hammered past, copious Cats in tow, clutching the caboose. A yarn with ArgonDave and Tum on the mornings' attendance (guesstimated at 45) was chewed over on the roll home through the suburb.
Week 42: 220km YTD 11,603 km
Word of the Week
"Cyclost" (noun) A rider without bearings or direction
Friday, October 10, 2014
Week 41 : An easy win and a hard loss
Plunged back into darkness at 5.50am with daylight savings, just when I was familiarising with landmarks unseen during winter. I turned up to Notre Dame in Monday morning's blackness in the hope of hanging on to the Cat pack, two days off two wheels may have weakened the wattage? An east southeasterly set up a clockwise rotation in Old Dookie Rd, I could only i.d. a few with the lack of daylight and the contrasting lumens of 18 l.e.d.'s but GentlemanGraeme's smoothness easily stood out. ArgonDave gave a greeting (if only to get his name in this), Eddy, Cobbles, Vince, Ronnie, Stradles, Phil, Sly, Simon, CerveloJohn, Robbo and LeighMac picked out by bike or sit, most others a blur as the up line gunned past the down line. The heavy artillery fired fast down Boundary Rd as the bunch stretched out single file behind the half dozen drivers, eventually settling to allow the now anti-clockwise rotations to resume. Somewhere we'd picked up Bomber & BigBrad, me the meat in a sizzling sandwich. By the Broken bridges I'd opted to sit with a growing pack of reartirees, to catch a breath or two, nicely timed as the 51 Blitzkrieg bolted in River Rd. (must have read Reagan's quote "when you can't make them see the light, make them feel the heat") It was head down, shift up and hang on well into the fourties till it split the bunch nearing the Trevaskis Rd dip. The 51's drew away, most Cats settling back into rotations at a slightly more managable rate of knots. A waiting truck was a bulky traffic island into Mitchell Rd, much muscle was spent keeping in touch with a somewhat surging bunch to Melbourne Rd. I'd bowed out of doing turns at Arcadia Downs, 15 kilometres in Zone 5 beginning to wear me down. Simon had the jellybeans to score the win, I had the pleasure backing off the pedals, chalking up a 39.8 average, and chat (in short breathless sentences) to GentlemanGraeme & CerveloJohn on the recovery roll through town.
There was only Wozza and Rocket at the carpark on Tuesday, desolation turned to desperation with 3 minutes to blast off, Pistol's arrival spelt perspiration and exertion, grateful that Trav's turn up meant a little respite. There was plenty of westerly (18-26km/h) on the Channel Rd eastbound for Wozz and I to lead out, helping to supress the headwind demons to come. FeltMat was found touring near Orrvale Rd to make a bunchette of 6 but he sat on, leaving the toil for five. Rocket and Pistol bumped up the cruising speed to the cypress trees, Wozz and I fuelling the fire to 40 till Channel's end. Pistol put three quarters of a length on Trav beyond River Rd, Trav's tenacity truely torturously tested to Mitchell Rd. Rocket called a single file suggestion, all ayes without objection when he took the first windward shift. I couldn't get the head low enough to cut a draft behind the energiser bunny, Rocket nudging 40 into the wind stretched my rubber band to the max. Trav had joined FeltMat in the rear survival seats, my turn somewhat abbreviated (to prevent explosion) beyond the dog-leg. Wozz & Pistol drove strongly to Archer Rd, passing Fox & Sosso, all my eggs went into the basket of holding Rocket's wheel up Mt.Nicolaci to the highway. Driving the train up to Roubaix was all I could muster, Pistol, Wozz and Rocket dragged us to Conrod post-haste. Out of the first dipper Rocket's eagerness multiplied with the finish in sight, in a split second my mental hurdle became higher than the will of the legs, dropping O.T.A. 300 metres shy of the line, Wozz pouncing for glory over the somewhat spent Rocket. A decent 37+ average for a petite peleton though.
A bit of a wardrobe malfunction on Wednesday, fingerless gloves and one base layer failed to insulate against the 3.5 degrees (out the door and on the bike without so much as a toe in the water first). Solution? Go faster to the start to warm up. Lined up at the rear of the Kialla grid early as a result, 10 punters in all, inticed into action with the lack of breeze. A little lumen of light on the 6.10 horizon gives some hope of lighter days ahead, Rocket and Pistol paired (yet again) to provide the heat the weather forgot, Choppy and I settled the speed on our turn to speaking pace. The Hurt Locker had eased their throttle to pain-free mode as they filed west in River Rd, 40+ Cats a kilometre behind driving into the dip (and about to be split up for 51 firewood) I got a few words in with Nick, Cougar, AvantiTrev, AvantiChris, SuperMario, Trav, FeltMat and Jase as the chilly k's clicked over, many predictions on WhisperingJacks next come-back and of BigMat's renal calculi. Chops had the short straw task of matching Pistol in Channel Rd (a wheel too far?), ten out of ten for effort but there's rarely an equal. SuperMario put in a solid crank for the Cha Cha, FeltMat turned up the wick for the Bonanza, all arriving back to Archer Rd with time to spare.
A flashing red taillight invasion of the streets in the darkness of Thursday morning, Area 51 northbound, Cats eastbound and Goats southbound to their respective starts. Friars had a herd of Goats lined up for action, Sootie and Comet last minute inclusions to take the numbers to 18. Patches of fog softened the focus outbound on Old Dookie Rd but a sharp eye was kept on the protocols of track turns, a bit of speed variation to cope with. Luck had me get the truck-like tow of BigPaul on the up row and Comet's smooth wheel on the down row, all and sundry having a dip with only one reartirement as we entered River Rd. A few were reaching their limits but many had plenty in the tank, shame the rolls weren't so consistent. All was well with the world ticking away on the 13 at 60rpm, heart rate happy at 136, fixed on BigPaul's grubby Colnago one minute then Comet's neat saddle the next, could have tapped away all day. Regrettably, the deck was shuffled by Mitchell Rd as a few bailed out of regular duty, Leon had the limit noddies and Dipper was just warming up. Ramping up out of Roubaix, a dozen drove into the 40's, suprised that some of the usual "sitters" were still contributing perspiration at Arcadia Downs. Sootie, AvantiLeigh, CerveloJohn and Dipper turned up the wick ascending from Conrod's dip, I worded up Snowman to lead him out, and with perfect timing, luck and position, I scored the front with 250 metres to go. Kicking my cranks hard to gap the odds-on favourites dropped poor old Snowman, gold handed to me on a silver plate.
An early start at a solo Toaster lap on Friday, barely a rustle in the trees, yet Ford & Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd felt like a wind tunnel. The intention of a steady tap around soon grew determined (a weird mission of self-harm?), perhaps something to prove after rating just 39 on yesterdays' Strava suffer score? With only two five-second respites from passing cars, the mental shovel came out to dig deep, driving to the Emu well into the anaerobic zone. Arriving at the turn south was like having an audit cancelled, taxed legs allowed to recover and the heart rate reduced below 170 on the leg to the Toaster. Out of luck, the breeze had halted in Old Dookie Rd, kept the head down and nostrils closed past the piggy piangendo prelude, watching a super long string of Supercat lights file into Boundary Rd, their stretched pack filling the distance between white posts, and about to become breakfast bait for Area 51, hot in pursuit a (special) k back. Pleased my arrival at Boundary Rd was too late to get mixed up in their torture, just a view of tail-lights galloping off into the sunrise. Couldabeens (?) were oncoming as I neared the long grey strip of River Rd , happy the wheels hummed in the high 30's to minimise its' monotony. By Mitchell Rd the tail-lights ahead seemed to be nearer, put it down to an illusion or confusion, but at the highway it had become fact. The lure had been swallowed renewing the push, a kilometre defecit was a big ask though. Entering Conrod straight with the tank nearing empty, the mirage was finally identified as the Breakaways, caught and greeted at Raftery's anorexic bridge. Kept on the gas till home (traffic lights permitting) to turn a Strava Suffer Score into a Sufferfest of 171.
Week 41 ; 230km YTD 11,383 km
Word of the Week
"peletoon" (noun) A humorous, animated bunch of cyclists
There was only Wozza and Rocket at the carpark on Tuesday, desolation turned to desperation with 3 minutes to blast off, Pistol's arrival spelt perspiration and exertion, grateful that Trav's turn up meant a little respite. There was plenty of westerly (18-26km/h) on the Channel Rd eastbound for Wozz and I to lead out, helping to supress the headwind demons to come. FeltMat was found touring near Orrvale Rd to make a bunchette of 6 but he sat on, leaving the toil for five. Rocket and Pistol bumped up the cruising speed to the cypress trees, Wozz and I fuelling the fire to 40 till Channel's end. Pistol put three quarters of a length on Trav beyond River Rd, Trav's tenacity truely torturously tested to Mitchell Rd. Rocket called a single file suggestion, all ayes without objection when he took the first windward shift. I couldn't get the head low enough to cut a draft behind the energiser bunny, Rocket nudging 40 into the wind stretched my rubber band to the max. Trav had joined FeltMat in the rear survival seats, my turn somewhat abbreviated (to prevent explosion) beyond the dog-leg. Wozz & Pistol drove strongly to Archer Rd, passing Fox & Sosso, all my eggs went into the basket of holding Rocket's wheel up Mt.Nicolaci to the highway. Driving the train up to Roubaix was all I could muster, Pistol, Wozz and Rocket dragged us to Conrod post-haste. Out of the first dipper Rocket's eagerness multiplied with the finish in sight, in a split second my mental hurdle became higher than the will of the legs, dropping O.T.A. 300 metres shy of the line, Wozz pouncing for glory over the somewhat spent Rocket. A decent 37+ average for a petite peleton though.
A bit of a wardrobe malfunction on Wednesday, fingerless gloves and one base layer failed to insulate against the 3.5 degrees (out the door and on the bike without so much as a toe in the water first). Solution? Go faster to the start to warm up. Lined up at the rear of the Kialla grid early as a result, 10 punters in all, inticed into action with the lack of breeze. A little lumen of light on the 6.10 horizon gives some hope of lighter days ahead, Rocket and Pistol paired (yet again) to provide the heat the weather forgot, Choppy and I settled the speed on our turn to speaking pace. The Hurt Locker had eased their throttle to pain-free mode as they filed west in River Rd, 40+ Cats a kilometre behind driving into the dip (and about to be split up for 51 firewood) I got a few words in with Nick, Cougar, AvantiTrev, AvantiChris, SuperMario, Trav, FeltMat and Jase as the chilly k's clicked over, many predictions on WhisperingJacks next come-back and of BigMat's renal calculi. Chops had the short straw task of matching Pistol in Channel Rd (a wheel too far?), ten out of ten for effort but there's rarely an equal. SuperMario put in a solid crank for the Cha Cha, FeltMat turned up the wick for the Bonanza, all arriving back to Archer Rd with time to spare.
A flashing red taillight invasion of the streets in the darkness of Thursday morning, Area 51 northbound, Cats eastbound and Goats southbound to their respective starts. Friars had a herd of Goats lined up for action, Sootie and Comet last minute inclusions to take the numbers to 18. Patches of fog softened the focus outbound on Old Dookie Rd but a sharp eye was kept on the protocols of track turns, a bit of speed variation to cope with. Luck had me get the truck-like tow of BigPaul on the up row and Comet's smooth wheel on the down row, all and sundry having a dip with only one reartirement as we entered River Rd. A few were reaching their limits but many had plenty in the tank, shame the rolls weren't so consistent. All was well with the world ticking away on the 13 at 60rpm, heart rate happy at 136, fixed on BigPaul's grubby Colnago one minute then Comet's neat saddle the next, could have tapped away all day. Regrettably, the deck was shuffled by Mitchell Rd as a few bailed out of regular duty, Leon had the limit noddies and Dipper was just warming up. Ramping up out of Roubaix, a dozen drove into the 40's, suprised that some of the usual "sitters" were still contributing perspiration at Arcadia Downs. Sootie, AvantiLeigh, CerveloJohn and Dipper turned up the wick ascending from Conrod's dip, I worded up Snowman to lead him out, and with perfect timing, luck and position, I scored the front with 250 metres to go. Kicking my cranks hard to gap the odds-on favourites dropped poor old Snowman, gold handed to me on a silver plate.
An early start at a solo Toaster lap on Friday, barely a rustle in the trees, yet Ford & Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd felt like a wind tunnel. The intention of a steady tap around soon grew determined (a weird mission of self-harm?), perhaps something to prove after rating just 39 on yesterdays' Strava suffer score? With only two five-second respites from passing cars, the mental shovel came out to dig deep, driving to the Emu well into the anaerobic zone. Arriving at the turn south was like having an audit cancelled, taxed legs allowed to recover and the heart rate reduced below 170 on the leg to the Toaster. Out of luck, the breeze had halted in Old Dookie Rd, kept the head down and nostrils closed past the piggy piangendo prelude, watching a super long string of Supercat lights file into Boundary Rd, their stretched pack filling the distance between white posts, and about to become breakfast bait for Area 51, hot in pursuit a (special) k back. Pleased my arrival at Boundary Rd was too late to get mixed up in their torture, just a view of tail-lights galloping off into the sunrise. Couldabeens (?) were oncoming as I neared the long grey strip of River Rd , happy the wheels hummed in the high 30's to minimise its' monotony. By Mitchell Rd the tail-lights ahead seemed to be nearer, put it down to an illusion or confusion, but at the highway it had become fact. The lure had been swallowed renewing the push, a kilometre defecit was a big ask though. Entering Conrod straight with the tank nearing empty, the mirage was finally identified as the Breakaways, caught and greeted at Raftery's anorexic bridge. Kept on the gas till home (traffic lights permitting) to turn a Strava Suffer Score into a Sufferfest of 171.
Week 41 ; 230km YTD 11,383 km
Word of the Week
"peletoon" (noun) A humorous, animated bunch of cyclists
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Week 40 : Avoiding Armageddon
A brilliant spring Monday arvo begged a lap to blow away weekend cobwebs, and wanting a tailwind home, I set forth on a Byrneside-Merrigum-Lancaster-North Mooroopna lap for the sake of change. Into the NNW wind on the Midland Hwy there was a bit of a draft from passing peak hour traffic (odd waves of 5 or 6 cars heading home), happy with a decent pace to Durringhile Rd (a Strava 3rd overall), just needed to weave past two dead snakes, three dead fan belts, a deceased Dunlop and a trailer load equivalent of loose stones to Byrneside. The billiard table smooth stretch of Merrigum Rd was a Godsend for the gluteus, carved through the Merrigums' bustling night life (one dog barking) and on to Lancaster, the northwester regretably grinding to a halt, denying me a tailwind home. The Baron's old house Karlsruhe was lit up by the setting sun, the long dull 13k stretch of tarmac to Echuca-Mooroopna Rd was hardly inspiring. I used the left wheel smooth groove (when traffic allowed) rather than the ragged emergency lane (rough as hession undies), any advantage taken to minimise drag, seeing the wind had let me down. Focussed on the rhythm rather than the goal, the long length of grey track soon ending for a turn southeast to Mooroopna. Felt a bit cool in short legs and sleeves with the temperature dropping 5 degrees, clever move to wear a base layer. Mooroopna' s aroma (water treatment plant) soon filled the nostrils but thoughts on smelling dinner drove me home. Plied the streets to the bike track and tapped home, a Strava suffer score of 190 justified extra dessert.
Joined Wozza for the commute to the Couldabeens start Tuesday morning, always faster than I'd do solo but readies the heart rate for the stress ahead. We caught Jase on a similar route, joining Nick, Shorty, SuperMario, Cougar, AvantiTrev, Rocket, Kenworth, Temple, PistolPete and ChrisA at the carpark. AvantiTrev and Cougar took the first shift, allow limbs to limber in a light NNW. A steady build up to the usual pace took half of Channel Rd, the pairing of Pistol and ChrisA spread silence as most put their heads down and tails up in Boundary Rd. Plenty of energy went into matching Wozza at the front, glad SuperMario was just a k slower when he drew alongside me. The usual g'day to Blacky as he sailed solo east on Mitchell, a rapid stop for traffic at Central Kialla allowed us a brief breather. Plenty of room was given passing a bike bloke weaving a weird path, Rocket and Kenworth keeping the pot on the boil to the highway only to be halted for another traffic intermission. Kenworth dipped out of rotations at the horse stud, my turns shortened with legs lame from Monday nights indulgence. Rocket, Chris and PistolPete lit the afterburners in Conrod straight, it was a suprise to see Kenworth renewed & lunging to the lead as Pistol ran out of beans. Jase pushed his limits, I took pity on the exhausted Pete to offer a tow, the four ahead just way too good to challenge. A solid lap done, a blinding rising sun along Raftery's roadworks as a challenge home.
Sold short on the first day of spring with the temperature at 2.8, the multilayered rigmarole of base layers, arm warmers and gloves still to endure. The cool certainly takes the breath away rolling out the first kilometer, a westerly kept the steering focussed on the 6k run to the Kialla roundabout. It was a mid week mass to deal with, PistolPete, Cougar, AvantiTrev, WhisperingJack, Trav, Wozza, AvantiChris, Rocket, Temple and Feltmat had lined up, honorary members Coggo & Choppy aboard to swell numbers. FeltMat grappled Garmin gremlins but we got underway at 6 to bear south, I was relishing the trip to Boundary but resenting the hard work home. Wozza's high octane breakfast had him metres ahead in Mitchell, then I had Rocket to match, thankful the tail wind was assisting. Wizz drove the HurtLocker single filed and early to Central Kialla, not till River Rd's dip did we see the Cat pack. AvantiChris served his first sentence on the front in Boundary Rd, nicely paced without expiry, let's see if he's bitten by the competitive urge in the weeks to come. Cougar had an inspired dip at train driving, taking the tough headwind leg into Channel Rd. The Pistol and Wozz combo had no let up to the cypress trees, plenty of kindling to dodge from last nights gusts. The westerly built to shorten my turn for the Cha Cha, head down to gain some draft behind the low Rocket. WhisperingJack saved his finale for the Bonanza, pushing the big gear to shake off another of his retirements.
Another gathering with the Goats for Thursday, a diversion to a different microcosm of fanatics, battlers, speed demons and characters, vintage and modern from all walks of life with a different perspective and method that puts a little variety in life. A large gathering of the usual villans were treated to Hommy's serve of sarcasm, the suprise addition of Sootie, Comet and Stace built a peleton of 18 to crank out the clockwise circuit. Plenty of contributors to a solid shift on the front kept the scenery blurring by till a few retirements started in River Rd, at least a dozen shared the task to Central Kialla. An oncoming car took to the roads' edge in a shower of stones for a big WTF moment, wondered what the hell for a millisecond till a red ute shot past from behind with a few inches clearance. No rego number noticed unfortunately, but Armageddon avoided. I missed my spot in the rotation (as did others) coming to terms with the possibilities, thankfully all surviving unscathed. Heart rates had settled by Mitchell Rd, the business of driving a peleton back on the agenda to the highway. By Roubaix corner the serious contenders reduced as the hangers on grew, the 7 volunteers left working the front at Arcadia Downs fell into my payback strategy left (hung out to dry) from last week. I skipped a couple of turns at the start of Conrod to a draw a breath or two, jumped onto Sootie's wheel as he went to the front, then hit the gas at the pointy end to shake the barnacles off the rear. A jump with 400 metres to go was a little premature, but dug deep to hold 50 for as long as my lungs would allow, enough it seems to gap the bunch and take the chocolates.
Running late to meet the 5.50 Friday Kialla start had the valves bouncing into the headwind on Wyndham Street, but made the grid with 30 seconds to spare, joining Rocket, Pistol, Temple, WhisperingJack, Cougar, Shorty, Chops and AvantiTrev. A steady lap till Pistol Pete and Whispering Jack paired to compare cadence, much thanks to a tailwind that all survived. Choppy drew HBK comparisons when his turn came to match Pistol, but the tempo finally simmered for all to enjoy the circuit home, a day off gave the rare chance to enjoy Friday caffine with the crew at the Scottish restaurant to end the week.
Week 40 269km YTD 11,153km
Word of the Week
"Doonapped" (verb) Captured by warm bedding and held to ransom for a higher temperature
Joined Wozza for the commute to the Couldabeens start Tuesday morning, always faster than I'd do solo but readies the heart rate for the stress ahead. We caught Jase on a similar route, joining Nick, Shorty, SuperMario, Cougar, AvantiTrev, Rocket, Kenworth, Temple, PistolPete and ChrisA at the carpark. AvantiTrev and Cougar took the first shift, allow limbs to limber in a light NNW. A steady build up to the usual pace took half of Channel Rd, the pairing of Pistol and ChrisA spread silence as most put their heads down and tails up in Boundary Rd. Plenty of energy went into matching Wozza at the front, glad SuperMario was just a k slower when he drew alongside me. The usual g'day to Blacky as he sailed solo east on Mitchell, a rapid stop for traffic at Central Kialla allowed us a brief breather. Plenty of room was given passing a bike bloke weaving a weird path, Rocket and Kenworth keeping the pot on the boil to the highway only to be halted for another traffic intermission. Kenworth dipped out of rotations at the horse stud, my turns shortened with legs lame from Monday nights indulgence. Rocket, Chris and PistolPete lit the afterburners in Conrod straight, it was a suprise to see Kenworth renewed & lunging to the lead as Pistol ran out of beans. Jase pushed his limits, I took pity on the exhausted Pete to offer a tow, the four ahead just way too good to challenge. A solid lap done, a blinding rising sun along Raftery's roadworks as a challenge home.
Sold short on the first day of spring with the temperature at 2.8, the multilayered rigmarole of base layers, arm warmers and gloves still to endure. The cool certainly takes the breath away rolling out the first kilometer, a westerly kept the steering focussed on the 6k run to the Kialla roundabout. It was a mid week mass to deal with, PistolPete, Cougar, AvantiTrev, WhisperingJack, Trav, Wozza, AvantiChris, Rocket, Temple and Feltmat had lined up, honorary members Coggo & Choppy aboard to swell numbers. FeltMat grappled Garmin gremlins but we got underway at 6 to bear south, I was relishing the trip to Boundary but resenting the hard work home. Wozza's high octane breakfast had him metres ahead in Mitchell, then I had Rocket to match, thankful the tail wind was assisting. Wizz drove the HurtLocker single filed and early to Central Kialla, not till River Rd's dip did we see the Cat pack. AvantiChris served his first sentence on the front in Boundary Rd, nicely paced without expiry, let's see if he's bitten by the competitive urge in the weeks to come. Cougar had an inspired dip at train driving, taking the tough headwind leg into Channel Rd. The Pistol and Wozz combo had no let up to the cypress trees, plenty of kindling to dodge from last nights gusts. The westerly built to shorten my turn for the Cha Cha, head down to gain some draft behind the low Rocket. WhisperingJack saved his finale for the Bonanza, pushing the big gear to shake off another of his retirements.
Another gathering with the Goats for Thursday, a diversion to a different microcosm of fanatics, battlers, speed demons and characters, vintage and modern from all walks of life with a different perspective and method that puts a little variety in life. A large gathering of the usual villans were treated to Hommy's serve of sarcasm, the suprise addition of Sootie, Comet and Stace built a peleton of 18 to crank out the clockwise circuit. Plenty of contributors to a solid shift on the front kept the scenery blurring by till a few retirements started in River Rd, at least a dozen shared the task to Central Kialla. An oncoming car took to the roads' edge in a shower of stones for a big WTF moment, wondered what the hell for a millisecond till a red ute shot past from behind with a few inches clearance. No rego number noticed unfortunately, but Armageddon avoided. I missed my spot in the rotation (as did others) coming to terms with the possibilities, thankfully all surviving unscathed. Heart rates had settled by Mitchell Rd, the business of driving a peleton back on the agenda to the highway. By Roubaix corner the serious contenders reduced as the hangers on grew, the 7 volunteers left working the front at Arcadia Downs fell into my payback strategy left (hung out to dry) from last week. I skipped a couple of turns at the start of Conrod to a draw a breath or two, jumped onto Sootie's wheel as he went to the front, then hit the gas at the pointy end to shake the barnacles off the rear. A jump with 400 metres to go was a little premature, but dug deep to hold 50 for as long as my lungs would allow, enough it seems to gap the bunch and take the chocolates.
Running late to meet the 5.50 Friday Kialla start had the valves bouncing into the headwind on Wyndham Street, but made the grid with 30 seconds to spare, joining Rocket, Pistol, Temple, WhisperingJack, Cougar, Shorty, Chops and AvantiTrev. A steady lap till Pistol Pete and Whispering Jack paired to compare cadence, much thanks to a tailwind that all survived. Choppy drew HBK comparisons when his turn came to match Pistol, but the tempo finally simmered for all to enjoy the circuit home, a day off gave the rare chance to enjoy Friday caffine with the crew at the Scottish restaurant to end the week.
Week 40 269km YTD 11,153km
Word of the Week
"Doonapped" (verb) Captured by warm bedding and held to ransom for a higher temperature
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