Another rusty start to the week with a weekend off two wheels, the achievable foray being a solo 30 k's Monday. Set about turning the cranks on the Boulevard at 5.45, a perfect 15 degrees to absorb. Kept the chain on the 17 to induce a sort of spin (76rpm fast enough for this old engine) for the desolation of Wanganui & Ford roads, enjoying the serenity and scenery. Crossing Doyles road must have activated a hidden wind switch, a northeaster popping up to raise the heart rate to 160 reaching the Emu. A chance to settle the pulse cranking to the Toaster, a modest aid from the breeze to direct me home on Old Dookie. Content with an average speed, good weather and great peace, it was home early to enjoy a second breakfast.
With weather in favour Tuesday morning (20 degrees and a northeasterly) I tried orchestrating my Couldabeens arrival to score a towed position in the bunch, epic fail gridding on the front with a Jase entree and a Shane main course, Rocket as the swift sweets. The diversion was the hearlded return of BigMat, no doubt lured by the dedicated sledgefest "Get Matt back on the Bike" Facebook page. PistolPete had a lower key return from holiday to make up a dozen Couldabeens to commence at six bells. The three k introduction on the front had me well worn and struggling against the northeaster till half way back in the bunch, Rocket, Chops and Kenworth continuing the push. BigMat bravely ventured to the front (with the benefit of a Boundary Road tailwind), Avanti Trev capping the velocity. I was glad to hear Jase's roll call in River Road (just as I'd set a roll target on the next white post) but matching Shane was to prove difficult. Rocket and Kenworth again lifted the standards, easier this time with the breeze behind. Through Central Kialla and onto Mitchell Rd, AvantiTrev spotted the deflation before BigMat did, in ten seconds the halt was called for BigMat to relearn the pitstop technique and face the mandatory sledging. Back underway in good time, we reached the highway for a short traffic pause, a 51 bunch now hot on our heels. Once through the corrugated curve of Roubaix, Mitch, Trav, Robbo (back on old faithful Opera), BigBen and others respectfully drove past wide, slowly drawing away to the horse stud. We'd reached Arcadia Downs when contributors to the front faded, just Rocket, Shane and Chops braving the front as we swung into Conrod straight. My legs were having no part in the pace set by Rocket, but was happy to lend an expiring Chops a tow, Kenworth, Jase and Shane enjoying the draft up to a thrashout for the minor spots with 100 metres left.
Tuesday nights' 32 degrees and a westerly (44 - 67km/h) kept the bike parked, Wednesday mornings' feels like 6 degrees had me wishing I'd attired in arm-warmers. An experiment in behavioral science played out at the Kialla Lakes roundabout, a long single filed grid formed with nobody venturing up to join Jay for the long stretch to Mitchell Rd. Chops volunteered in the dying minute, Rocket second fiddle. Calculating a pairing with Rocket for Mitchell Rd was doable for me (warmed up by then?) but I wasn't counting on a tough 2 kilometre grind at 40 to match him. Wozza had a similar mission in Central Kialla Rd, my lungs protesting with another 1700 metres, focus shifting to tonights dinner, the circumference of Saturn, Argentina's GDP.....anything to keep the head distracted from forfeiting. BigMat and SuperMario paired and declared a jihad on speed, ramping up the River Rd rate and silencing the 15. Cars back, bikes up and cars to the left twisted necks arriving at Boundary road, but traffic soon cleared allowing Temple to drive the engine quickly to Channel road. Almost another repeat of Wozz and I leading the Cha Cha challenge at the kinder, thankfully Shorty and Pistol Pete took the helm to tow us into the mid 40's. An oncoming car (just metres ahead) suddenly swerved across our path into Prentice Rd, instant calamity as 30 wheels swerved and brakes were grabbed, sheer luck all remained upright. The Cha Cha challenge was quickly quashed, aggrevation and fury replaced it, thoughts of persuing the perpetrator (on a dead end road) were abandoned but a wary eye and sharp memory remained for the dark green 626. Calm was slowly restored to roll homeward, the bunch splitting into northerners and southerners at Archer.
Thursday was long sock day, a respectful rememberance of the passing of Furph. A copious congregation of Goats departed Friars at sun up, Principal Skinner on Trek #2 (Di deraillier disaster on #1) and Dipper almost incognito sans whiskers. Picking up Tina, JB and co in Old Dookie road, the bunch now numbered two dozen, perhaps the reason for the erratic speed? Not all were on the same page of the pace parable, 40km/h on the up side and 34 on the down made it a difficult and disconcerting rotation, certainly sharpened the wits quickly. Several had bowed out of circulation by the Midland, only 16 now applying the velocity. It was another fresh start to a forecast hot day, barely at double figures and wishing I'd worn arm-warmers again. I'd landed a good spot tucked in with Tina fore and Kate aft, both impressively driving the River Rd express (and dodging the bits of busted branches from recent winds) Moving down Mitchell we were passed by Eggy aboard a scooter, 5 in tow, motorpaced (for a fee). Under our own steam, we crossed the highway, the Raftery dash soon on the agenda, I'm sure positions were plotted and scenarios played out. JB blew the whistle to the two flat barred bikes ambling into Conrod using the whole lane, the two dozen express did a low level fly past as I drew the short straw early lead-out from the dipper. With Hommy and the sprintenders lurking half a dozen wheels behind, hopes of a placing were nil, so I threw some spice to the sprint (and chances out the window) with an early squirt of speed. Expiring well short of the finish line, a dozen bolted by, it's more good luck than good management that puts a podium within reach, just happy to finish upright (and to throw a curved ball at the regulars)
Handed myself a HurtLocker challenge on Friday but it was only Wizz and Minto present at the SPC start. The challenge multiplied, shorter recovery times. Thoughts of climbing aboard the SuperCats (departing a kilometre behind) was abandoned, when and where they'd catch us was the goal. Wizz took the first shift to Central Ave, hopes that Minto would hand me the lead for the last leg of Old Dookie were dashed with his good drive, it was the 15km/h headwind Boundary baptism for me. Suprisingly, I managed a reasonable rate for the 3k to the highway, cadence at 78 and the heart rate climbing to the red line just as the Pub came into view. Supportive comments aided the mental recovery but a new pair of lungs and legs would have been handy (thank heavens there was enough left in the tank to get back aboard the rear). Wizz and Minto drove on, I'd just managed to get composed when my turn came up again. A two and a half k turn in River Rd was taxing, just enough energy left to give a half wave to the oncoming Couldabeens at the dip. Recovering at the rear, a sneek peek behind saw several bunches in a distant pursuit, but we pushed on, Wizz doing a long haul to the Hall, Minto merciless till nearly at Archer. Up to the highway (and a dream run through) kept our hopes alive, I'd put a lot into staying aboard out of Roubaix, the Wizz and Minto machines marching on. Handed duties at the front rising from Conrod's dipper (deja vu) and, loathed to look back for chasing (and closing)Cats, I poured on the big gas (56x11=ouch!) to keep our chances up. Very pleased to cross the line (a Cat pack 700m back) and to take in extra oxygen, speechless for a hundred metres, but wallowing in achievement that three beat a full house.
Week 51 ; 208km YTD 13,982
Word of the Week
"Rhythmenace" (noun) The one rider in a bunch who's erratic cadence or speed, infects the peleton with rubberbandis maximus at the rear
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