Swinging a leg over the old faithful bike Monday morning sounded like a rusty hinge, a very slack last week was being payed for. My faith in the yr.no forecast was all in one basket looking at the threatening north sky, heading out solo on Old Dookie Rd had inadequacy written all over it, barely keeping 34 on the speedo. It wasn't till the turn south into Boundary Rd that some hope flickered, a deceptively strong northeaster had been applying the handbrake on my progress. Vince, Rabbit and the speed demons were northbound in search of Cat bait due 10 minutes behind me (those not still hung-over from the CatChristmas weekend festivities), I plugged away in search of River Rd as the sun rose into the ominous grey clouds. All was well with the world on the River Rd tarmac however, the northeaster at my back, a curtain of rain on the north horizon was headed east and the speedo hovered on 40 to restore hope. A bike in the distance at Kialla Central gave me a target to chase, but catching an old bloke on a flat bar hybrid dissolved the achievement quickly. Saving a few energy pennies to spend in the headwind of Conrod straight left enough for a resonable average speed, but driving into the wind for the 7k home dragged the depths of determination, even the Strava score suffered.
A little preparation trepadation heading to the Couldabeens startline on Tuesday, gridding up between the Shane and Rocket engines didn't help doubts either. Trav arrived on his 40th birthday present, a stealth-like matte black Corsa worthy of the good engine aboard it. AvantiTrev was buzzing from the weekend's Lake Taupo tour, but sat in the rear stalls. 16 launched into Channel Rd's sunrise (Shane keen to snap a memento), I averted eyes from the h.r. display from Doyles to Central, a delight to finally see the kinder for the subsequent oxygen recovery in the half tow from the low Rocket. Bo & Ron (in Area arrears?) drove the last leg to Boundary, minimising chat, the southern leg to River Rd a little less on the throttle by others driving into the southwest breeze. Whispering Jack, Shorty and Supermario faced the music at the front for a short spell, AvantiTrev, Temple, Cougar and Kel vigilant as rear gunners. My turn at the business end came around again quickly, heart-rate rose just as fast from 150 to 182 to slice through the air at the front. Ron & Bo hit the afterburners in Central Kialla opening a few gaps, Jase considerately providing the glue to tow those trailing back into the fold. I'd resolved to avoid an input at the front as we reached Arcadia Downs being a bit out of tune (a condition known as hiatus handbrakis), timed it perfectly with the bunch going single file from there to survive the speed. One by one the punters faded from Rockets relentless velocity, one by one I picked off those cast aside to salvage a silver spot at the finish (Temple delighted in the draft to 3rd), just 49 seconds short of a fastest lap.
The renegades Oz, Hendo, Ricky, Specialised Tony, Lance, Clive and Wozza formed an octet at the library on Tuesday arvo, a warm 31 degrees to deal with but content being out of the heat of the hospital squad. A southwesterly propelled our pack to the Emu (Legal Steve joining in at DECA) but promised some expenditure homeward. Felt the muscular burn on the push to the church from the Emu, the delight of guzzling warm water on a hot day is moving the purchase of an insulated bidon higher on the priority list. Ricky took a short turn to keep below his 85% redline, Hendo looks to be doing it easy for one so new to two (self propelled) wheels, Lance too in good form off the back of a recent Challenge Tri in testing conditions. A little toil to reach River Rd against the south south wester, and a fair push west to Central Kialla kept us honest. All seem to be happy with the Renegade formula, each getting a go at an achieveable rate and distance without being burnt to a crisp. A few degrees dropped to make a comfortable MItchell Rd leg, the speed climbing slowly and steadily in Raftery. Rotational repititions increased proportionally with retirees retreating in the closing 700 metres, I scored the last 150 metres to drive as Specilaised Tony peeled aside, so I played lead-out for the in-form Wozza to take the chocolates from a rapidly pursuing LegalSteve. Happy with our steady tap, a Strava spy later showed the fracture in the hospital bunch between flying and frying.
The femorus rectus was wrecked Wednesday, plenty of complaints to the muscle response department on the saddle up and ride to the Kialla start. (ageing limbs are none to happy following up on a 100k the day before). A Heinz wind week gave us a south east variety to impeded the progress to the grid, 17 degrees had tempted many to come out and play though, SuperMario even arriving early (with 23 seconds to spare). I enjoyed being dragged south in the draft of the bunch, AvantiTrev keeping a cap on the knots till speed posessed others. Chops and (Whooping) Wozz relished the tailwind heading to River Rd at 40, our journey east taken at a fair clip with what seemed the entire bike population westbound. Jay made a fair go of his maiden turn in River Rd, speed bumped up again bearing north to Channel Rd. Wozz and I had the lead role from the kinder onward so ramped up the effort for the Cha Cha, if only to uncork to sprinters bottle with Shane, Nick, WhisperingJack and Trav thrashing out the honours list. A calm descended for the 2k's homeward, just a little squirt in the final 200 metres to clear out cobwebs that may have remained. A chatty tour home, but I managed to hit every pot-hole and manhole cover on the way to rattle the Cosmics (proving again to be almost bulletproof just shy of 90,000 km old)
The habitual Tour de Goats on Thursday, a cronic case of overdressing (base layer and armwarmers) had me in a personal sauna with 17 degrees on the guage. Deb all smiles on a new Giant (yet another new bike ponders the use-by date on my old alloy ally) as the usual gang gathered, Tum returned from his hillness, the Hommy humour back as well. 16 got organised eastward at 6, collecting Tina en-route, Heady inspired to chanty the 41/39 song and smooth the Snowman surges. An illusion of gradually gaining on the Cats had some credence when we'd crossed the Midland, a whiff of tail-lights brewed the urge to latch on, Sootie, Comet and Tina driving a sleek chase. By River roads' dip we could almost hear the pussycat purr, we were finally into the draft and easing off the gas for the last k. The halt for traffic at Mitchell Rd split the pack (ironically into the two species) but were back aboard by Archer Rd. Me and a few braved joining the Cat (clockwise) rotation approaching Arcadia Downs, I'd won the dream drag from Gentleman G as we rounded the last kink. The Conrod climax put me on the front at 300 to go, with Tum and Hommy in tow (the pidgeons amongst the Cats) it was hit the hurry button (apologies to G for the gap) to rush the line. I'd run out of beans with a 100 remaining, Tum struggled for speed (hampered by hirsutness?) but the trademark Hommy kick challenged a couple of Cats keen to taste the chocolates (don't ask me who won, all had gone a bit blurry by then).
A 5.40 start with the HurtLocker at SPC found Fox, Wizz, Minto, Meags, Princess, Kev and Sosso waiting, bait for the Freaky Friday bunch due to launch 5 minutes behind. Track turns got organised once through Doyles roundabout, Fox providing the supreme driving lessons while Meags and Princess shuffled the deck to the rear. Sosso braved a short dip at the pointy end, Minto took us to Central Ave. I'd tucked in behind the thin Wizzy (not the face framer, blusher, bronzer or eye shadow for just $49.95, the invaluable skinny Wizz on a Felt) My turn at School Rd for the remainder of Old Dookie had hopes the legs would live up to the minds' expectations. Sosso and Meags were awol on the glance back at the Pub (they caught the pursuing Freaky bus behind). I had another dip from the bridges to River Rd at a decent rate, restoring a little confidence that my contribution was somewhat worthy, just needed to preserve the reserves for a repeat performance. We had a brief greet to the oncoming Couldabeens eastbound, eyes quickly back to the Wizz wheel to sharpen the concentration. Minto retired from active service at Archer Rd, Kev filling his shoes admirably. It was mucho pronto in Raftery Rd after a dream crossing of the highway, spots of rain on the specs turned out to be sweat from those driving hard ahead of me. Just my luck to draw the short (but 600 metres long) last straw on Conrod, so emptied the tank nudging 50 to the line, a tactical Princess pouncing the last 75 metres to take the finish line glory. Quite chuffed that a little six pack completed a 38.6 average.
In a week of toe to toe bridge battles and venemous chat site vitriol, it's a delight to reflect on the comeradery, humour and support of the bunches kind enough to include me. Maybe they're not a match on others velocity but morals, friendship and equality have far greater meaning. Thanks bike buddies :-)
Week 49 : 289 km YTD 13,461 km
Word of the Week
"Striva" (verb) A cyclist exerting much effort and energy in beating uploaded ride data on a shared website
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