No takers beyond Wozz and I for a Saturday prologue, the committed (or should be committed) set a southerly sail on a reverse Tuesday/Thursday circuit, finding just the tap to Raftery Rd a workout, climbing Steptoe's hill near Conrod's finish line felt like a life's acheivement. There was a whole lot of soft suffering going on barely into the thirties, out of the seat to cross the highway felt like i'd loaned my legs as Hunter Sam's punching bags. On the 17 spin again to keep the momentum and warmth balance, River roads' seemingly endless length stretched ahead to torment us, yearning the arrival of those fourteen white dashes on the tarmac that signal it's end. North to Channel Rd and west back to town on the favoured fifteen put pleasure into the prefrontal, delighted to finally u-turn at the school and join the fifteen Couldabeens/Genesis brigade for a timely tow. A consolatory cruise allowed the social chat to the Emu, the bar raised a little westward to town but no complaints received. No chance of a sprint placement finding myself beside Nev approaching DECA, the tank well emptied before the Wanganui hill (but plucked off a few hopefuls out of stubborn minded achievement anyway). Rounding Rudd, I dropped back for a trailing light 50 metres in arrears, a tow for Linda back to the pack for the recovery roll to the Lemontree. Chat on chickens feet, BMI and French chateau's, Ange and MasiMario deep in philisophical fellowship. .
Put out an APB for motivation Monday, almost sucummed to the temptation of the doona till thoughts of contracting BigMat-itis put enthusiasm into gear. Grizzled my way east to the Emu at 5, the slightest hint of a northeaster (7 km/h) labouring the legs and putting pain before pleasure. Snuck the chain onto the fifteen heading to the Toaster, relief for the rector femoris with higher hopes heading west in Old Dookie Rd. Fortunately fortuitous finding the fourteen fine Boundary bound, steering into the smooth tarmac compressed by years of truck travel, just to make the most of it. Two bikes northbound in Boundary (pidgeons in search of Cats to be amongst?) a soloist Mexican south of the highway, three Breakaways in River Rd and Craig "lotsalumens" in Mitchell Rd the only oncomings. (thanks to Strava's "flybys") Mt Nicolaci emptied the energy (like the Mur de Huy for me), the last three k's of Raftery driven by pondering what form the calories would take in the post ride refuel.
What creatures of habit we are, dug up the enthusiasm to crawl out of a warm bed on Tuesday, finding myself Emu bound on the 17 cog, struggling for speed again.....some never learn! It was Groundhog day at the Toaster, pushing the 15 yeilded better momentum, back to town ahead of my e.t.a., making it to SPC's roundabout to join the Goats exiting suburbia. Belly, Coggo, Hommy, Phil, Heady, Principal Skinner Joe, Sandy, Kate and foreigner ArgonDave (no late shift for the Cats) now aboard a slick Scott (vale Argon, a crash crunched and crucified carbon last week). A svelte and organised rotation got rolling eastward to Boundary, I made a dud call at the highway for a car appearing suddenly, warranted a yell of stop but complacency called car left. Safely through though, the rotational roster resumed, Kate and Sandy as tail-light twins. A decent roll west to Central Kialla where time forced me to abandon for a short cut home (pondering the intelligence of those in black cars who can't use headlights half an hour before sun up.
Sanity was seriously questioned facing minus 1.4 degrees from a cosy bed, but then I should question Wozza's agreement to an early 30k prologue to Wednesday's Couldabeens habit. (I guess more than one riding in such temperature voids the insanity?) New Dookie Rd east, Boundary south and Channel Rd west, trying to warm from winters' woes, What's App pinging a flood of Goat apologies abandoning their ride, CerveloJohn the sole soldier. Wozz and I wheeled our way on Channel Rd, hoping the serious investment of winter k's will pay decent dividends in Spring. Early back to town, a casual cruise of Kialla Lakes metered the minutes till the carpark flagfall, just AvantiTrev, Cougar, Cate, Chops, Trav and Pistol ready for an Antarctic mission. A cruisy lap with most on a survival-circumventing-speed agenda, Cougar and Chops chatty in the rear stalls, Pistol somewhat sprint starved till the Cha Cha helped the hunger. Sensations lost in fingers and toes by the time we'd reached town but some warmth gained in the achievement over others who feared to tread.
Chewed the Tour fat with Wozz at 5.30 en-route to Thursday's Couldabeens, the small gathering of SpinDoctor, Temple, ChrisA, Cougar, Trav and Pistol a recipe for a relaxed ride. Ron and Nev rolled into Channel Rd just as Wozz and I led the petite peleton from the startline. (made sense for us to roll up behind and sit on) A calm and cruisy first two legs set a mellow mood, a salve of salvation from winters testing tempo of late. By the time i'd revisited the pointy end, Pistol had percolated the pace, slicing into a northeaster adding a little spice. I survived the next turn with Ron till Brokens bridges, time in the tow for respiratory recovery as Nev, Wozz, SpinDoctor, ChrisA, Trav and Pistol cranked their contributions. An easterly eased the effort in River Rd, 6 k's passing quickly to conscript me to the front again for the Kialla Central stage with Pistol. Ron rolled reaching Archer, almost euphoric tucked into his generous draft. Nev sweetly syncronised the highway crossing betwixt the B doubles, I was lamenting the length the legs would last as we rounded Roubaix, up to the drivers seat again at the horse stud calling a short shift to Pistol and a rapid Ron rollover. With the horsepower of ChrisA, Wozz and Nev advancing through the ranks motivation had resigned faster than a Greek finance minister, I took timely retirement just as Trav and Ron clocked out of sprintention. SpinDoctor hit his rev limiter with 150 left of Conrod, I sneakily snared 4th with Trav in tow. Paused at punch-up bridge for Conrod's outcasts, then a smooth roll through town enjoying the (finally) swept bike lane. (elephant stamp to Wozz for an e-ffective e-mail to the street sweep peeps)
Facing kilometre deprivation from a fickle forecast Saturday drove me to an early start Friday, Boulevard bound at 5 with a damp track to tap to. Bike was grubby anyway. What's become a tried and travelled Toaster track, Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd was populated with puddles to ply, there's nothing quite like the thrill of chilled water up the inside leg! HR at 158 all the way to the Emu, a small NNE'r making a big difference southbound to the Toaster. On top of the 15 back to town reached the weighbridge by 6 but it was only Phil and Heady who had the testicular toughness to turn up. Happy to be the first volunteer, I drove the first leg to Central Ave, then in Heady's draft and on Phil's wheel, being spotted from the Vittoria's rooster tail, for a smooth but damp tow. To the fig farm from Phil, it was my drive to the pub (bit early for drinks), a moments halt for traffic. Heady and Phil shared the duty to River Rd, I was handed the reigns in River, so pushed the personal target to the bridge (4.5 k) as an internal measure. Funny how performance peaks in company but sags solo. Unfortunately, employment gets in the way of a good ride (just when we were all guaranteed a podium finish!) I retired reluctantly stage right at Rivers' end and pressed on via the truck route, Archer and northward home, scheduled to the minute to end the week.
Week 28 361 km YTD 8,321 km
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