The bike felt foreign Monday morning, climatising needed after a weekend off the pedals. Just enough in the tank (or was it missing motivation?) for a short lap, retraining the legs to rotate on old Dookie Rd, a few minutes ahead of the Cat/51 brigade. Settled into the seat and cadence after a few k's but was sans speed, Cats would catch sooner rather than later. Pointing into the southerly on Boundary Rd I was reeled in by the bunch at the piggery, out of the seat on protesting legs to hang off the back for a short tow, till Channel Rd's view had the steering pulling to the right. Happier to be solo today, preparing the head for the joys of toil at the Monday to Friday salt mine, a rising sun behind drawing a long shadow of a tall fossil on the tarmac. Around the s bend and past the kink a large cypress was parked prostrate, the road closed sign forcing a Hanlon Rd diversion to change the regular route. With little option (or time for scenic tours) it was the Midland highway home, comfortable on being visible, having an emergency lane to use and little traffic to compete with. I was just getting into a decent rhythm when I reached civilisation, intersections and traffic taking the gloss off.
Working on Melbourne Cup day was as joyous as a fuel levy, but all was not lost squeezing in an early lap. There were later morning laps by Couldabeens and Goats, so rolled past the Cat grid at 5.50am hopeful, quickly abandoned ship though seeing Bomber and only one other departing. Lights of three southbound bikes in Railway parade shed some light and hope, so swung toward Friars to see who dared. Sootie, Comet and Stace were the only punters, Cervelo John the solitary Goat arriving as the 6am flag fell. Intuition commenced the rotation in the low 30's against the nuisance ENE wind, better to be Boundary bound as the breeze swung NE , Stace taking a brief rearmost respite as the velocity grew. All agreed it was ideal single file conditions beyond the pub, Sootie taking a longer turn at the front to set a standard but Cervelo John abbreviated in River Rd. Comet's the definition of swift and smooth but a draft as handy as a matchstick, a flick of her elbow handed me the front to grind out a 2k turn, Stace back in the drivers seat at Laws Drive to muscle the motion. A draft from Sootie, Cervelo John and Comet to Mitchell Rd had revived my rectus femorus, I got well into the groove to drive a 4k turn to the highway. Sootie took us to the horse stud, CerveloJohn to Arcadia Downs and Comet hammered us home on Conrod, a solid lap for a small field, shame that duty called at the salt mines on a public holiday.
Wednesday's southwester tortured the commute south to Kialla but Christmas had arrived early with Shane, PistolPete, Rocket, Choppy, Trav and Nick already gridded up to take on the headwind first. Trav's back on old faithful (better on the fit but not on the fast) and Choppy was in for some Pistol punishment at his side. I'd timed my turn at the front precisely to reap Mitchell Rd's almost tailwind assistance, Wozza bumping up the pace to make sure I earned breakfast. A Hurtlocker trifecta was a little behind agenda, the Cat pack likewise battling the breeze. Shane and Pete kept our lungs working in River Rd to catch a solitary BigBen at the speed bumps. Facing the headwind music in Channel Rd shortened the turns, at last the recumbent cypress tree has been cleared from the circuit. Rocket and Big Ben challenged the Cha Cha and Pistol toasted Shane on the Bonanza to clock us a fastest time.
Couldabeens entrants were rare Thursday morning, Wozz and I the only starters with 5 minutes to go. Shane, Trav, Rocket and Pete fronted in the dying moments, guaranteeing a rapid ride. A late Kenworth chased and latched onto our small pack at the Kensington roundabout, Rocket and Pistol paired (yet again) to ensure there'd be no rest for the righteous (even at the back). Shane had the enthusiasm dialled up to 40 for the last leg of Channel Rd, my calves were well cooked to then take on Wozza for the belt into Boundary. Kenworth and Trav withdrew from service in River Rd, I had only a few jellybeans left in the jar when Shane tucked in behind Rocket at Laws Drive. Unaware all had single filed behind, I sank all into a short shift past Rocket, who soon resumed the helm to take us to Rivers' end. (Fossilosophy : something possesses the spirit to drive to the limit, maybe as a measure of self worth, a comparison or a team target, a muscular and mental masochism that feels great only when you stop) Turns recommenced from Central Kialla onward but I'd drawn the short straw to have Rockets' low and fast draft from Archer Rd to the highway, the belt up Mt Nicolaci almost inducing profanities about pace. A short and slow turn by me to Roubaix corner drew Trav back into the mix at the front, Shane, Wozz and Pete drove onto to Conrod, only benefitting Rocket to unleash the horses for the final 300metres. A second fastest time (44:25) was ample reward for effort.
Sleep was as rare as a Palmer Party candidate Friday morning, insomnia solved with a few early k's on the Boulevard, past the golf course and onto Wanganui. An eye on the Garmin clock kept the wattage up, a push to the Verney roundabout just in time to join Princess, Fee, Meags and Kylie for a 30k preface to a Cat lap. It was a cruisy smooth roll out to the Emu with just a wisp of easterly to master, chatting with Princess on the fragility of carbon wheels. Almost every bunch in the town were headed east on Old Dookie Rd for a freaky Friday fest, we cruised back to SPC, u-turned and collected Trent and Ian, and set forth on the 32ks of Old Dookie-Boundary-River-Mitchell and Raftery. A yarn on wildlife with Ian and Trent's rare "Blue" bike soaked up the k's, a distraction from Trents' unfortunate case of Lycrack. A second wind came to most in Mitchell Rd to bump up the speed, continuing to Conrod's end where Fee, Princess and Meags u-turned to tap out another 30 k's to reach a ton before 8. Work and lack of time drove me straight home pronto to finish the week with a couple of Strava silvers.
Week 45 232km YTD 12,420 km
Word of the Week
"Caloride" (noun) A cycling journey to wear off the excesses of beer, bacon or bakeries.
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