Took to the tarmac in the early hours of Saturday, teaming with Wozza and Temple (the three musketeers?) en-route to the Cat preamble with Vince, Rabbit, Frido and Chris A, found at the Mt Nicolaci dip. A steady cruise of River and Boundary Rd finding Mexicans Anthony and Angelo south of the Boundary bridges. Repeating last weeks course, Temple, Wozz and I diverted via Channel Rd in search of the regular Saturday bunch, nearly making it to Orrvale Rd before u-turning to climb aboard the train of Pistol, Jase, newcomer ScottRoss, Johnnie, Eammon, Rocket, AvantiChris, AvantiTrev, BigMat FeltMat , Cougar and Tucks. An anticlockwise rotation of the anticlockwise circuit, all in social mode, talked weekend plans, bike bling and who's peaking, Nath boarding at the Pub to make a sweet sixteen squad. A tri train cranked east toward Dookie as we swept west at the Emu, the usual sprinkling of soloists fore and aft the Cat pack (crossing paths at the main channel). Eammon was under pressure on the front as enthusiasm escalated at DECA, a sprint up Mt Wanganui launched by Rocket and Nath had Tucks plum tuckered by Rudd Road. AvantiTrev's tail-light cam brought out the showmanship on the roll back through town, the Strava Wars between BigMat and Wozz seesawing for February's kilometre supremacy occupying most of the breakfast banter.
I thumbed through the files of the hippocampus Monday morning, trying to find an excuse to leave Sunday's cobwebs on the bike but knowing regret would haunt me, fronted up for an abbreviated Goat lap, my enemy, time. A standing outdoors weather check prompted base layer insulation, the reality of slicing through the south breeze even cooler (just 9 degrees on the guage). Coggo, Belly and Phil were the only brave boys at Friars, so a single filed attack on the goat trail got underway in Old Dookie Rd. It's a thin beam of light on the bitumen, the bike and the backside ahead, all that's visible these days with the sun's later arrival each day hiding the lap landmarks. To go with the flow in Coggo's tow was no slow bro, compelling me to contribute a decent turn at the front from the Pub to River Rd (but the heroics hurt in hindsight). Belly then Phil did the driving for half of River Rd, Coggo putting in another super stint for the second half. Regrettably, time had me exiting at Central Kialla Rd, the enemy of work beckoning a short cut to keep to schedule. Steered the truck route to Archer then north back to town, always a bonus to have a tailwind home.
Early laps are the new black in rides lately, a chance to let legs limber and jaws jabber before the peleton pace percolates. Wozz and I soldiered south to Raftery Rd, the southerly strengthening, to join Bo, Kel, Temple and Simon for the preamble. Vince added to the prologue at the punch-up bridge for a quiet tap of Raftery-Mitchell and Archer, Pistol found en-route to attach to Couldabeens Rocket, BigMat, FeltMat, Kenworth, Shane, AvantiTrev and Rudy at the earlier launch time. The first shift left the blocks rapidly, a sprint to latch onto the first half dozen at Kensington. I served my time at the rushin' front with Wozz, then Rudy, from the cypress trees to Channel's end, pleased to avoid the breeze on Boundary, but heartfelt sympathies to Kenworth dealing with the southerly AND matching Pistol Pete's pace. Bo barbequed BigMat to River Rd, my focus fuzzied and view narrowed third wheel from Rocket's rate of knots, a concerted effort to keep attention on sticks and debris litterng the tarmac. I drew a valued breath to thank Wozz and roll the rotation just as he called enough, timing and the pairing perfect. Half the bunch I'd seen at the start had yet to roll through, only seven contributing to the speed at the pointy end while the rest rested. Promising myself this was the last turn in Mitchell Rd was over-ruled by stubborn determination, but seeing 185 bpm on the Garmin at Raftery's skid pan (half a k beyond Roubaix) pulled the pin mentally. Hanging on as a mere survivor at fifth wheel watching Rocket hit the boost button in Conrod confirmed his freak status, I was just relieved to cross the finish line fifth and get home early to refuel on raisin toast.
Down to the dying seconds of departure time on Wednesday, then caught every red light to frusrate the agenda reaching the Couldabeens grid for the earlier time, but wait!....the standardised start line is now a k short of Kialla. A bonus to join on the back of the bunch cowering from the southerly and chatting with newcomers BH.Paul and Westy, the third not yet known. The headwind's attrition put me at the front sooner than expected, leg two of Archer Rd to tackle, at least achievable with Chop's consideration, Mitchell Rd a different story beside spin doctor Rudy. Zone-in on slackening the jaw, relaxing shoulders, a light touch of thumbs to forefingers, focus ahead, slow the breathing and let the legs do the work......soon holding station with the young fella. Some had reartired in River Rd, AvantiChris stepping up to Pistols' pace though. The earlier start has put the passing parade of peletons back to Boundary Rd, their identity still shrouded in darkness as days grow shorter. The tempo was slowly wound up in the Devil's lane dash for the thrash at the Cha Cha, my timing skewed arriving at the kinder on Pistols wheel, only useful as a lead-out today (Rudy and Shane better positioned for success). Itching to launch a suprise Kensington thrash (to see who may be on their toes), my idea was shelved with oncoming traffic.
A damp road and wind gusts of 65 km/h sent bike and I scuttling back indoors at 5 Thursday morning, all kitted up and fed without checking the outdoors first forced a rethink of routine.....engage eyesight before putting passion into gear in the future.
By Friday, the cravings for k's had peaked, cured by an early solo Toaster lap, a tame intro with the southwest breeze behind me to the Emu. With only one car to avoid, thoughts were thrown into neutral to tap on an aerobic limit, then spin on the 17 sprocket down to the Toaster, a grind on the 15 west on Old Dookie Rd gave better pace. One tail-light ahead and plenty of headlights behind when I'd settled into Boundary Rd, the red ahead a speck on the horizon. Pleased I'd made up good ground by River Rd, the wind turned head on to torment. I drifted to River's right edge clearing the course for the gaining bunch behind, quickly off the seat winding up the knots to steal a tow as they passed. Out of my depth hanging on to team Feelgood cranking the mid fourties into a headwind, I let go the tow at Laws Drive mainly to preserve reserves for the rest of the circuit. The brief blast had drawn me nearer the soloist ahead, finally catching Sosso at Roscoe's corner. In Mitchell Rd it felt futile fleeing, feeling feisty felines furtively following at Archer Rd but kept the head down, a clear cross of the highway helped, but was finally swallowed by the populated pussycat peleton (featuring a fifty-one faction) at Arcadia Downs. Helped myself to the free tow home (and tactical talk to the tenaciousTina) to finish the mornings fifty five k's and the week.
Week 10 268km YTD 2,836 km
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