Yet another cool start in the dark, no show by Wozza (suffering snooze button-itis) so it was a sprint to the Saturday grid, arriving to get a rare sighting of SuperMario, rumours of his wild card entry into basket weaving have been exagerated! The usual contenders lined up ; Jase, Shorty, AvantiTrev, AvantiChris, PistolPete, Cougar, Trav, Jen (resplendant in Couldabeens kit) Rocket and Ron (rainbowed in Genesis gear). I was the wilted lettuce leaf placed in the Rocket/Pistol sandwich (again!), our progress east on Channel Rd collecting Ange, Linda, Bo and Kel at the school, the short-cutting Wozza arriving at the S bend. Almost half the bunch were sitting on, double shifts for the eight driving the tempo will only widen the gap between pacers and puffers. A chilled southerly assisted the passage to the Emu, lights went out for Jen and Cougar on the westward leg home. I scored a super smooth tow from Rocket in Ford Rd, the reality of matching him at the front, not so super. The sprint for Wanganui hill honours fragmented the pack behind Pistol and Rocket, Bo kaboomed in the attempt to stay with them, I towed Wozz to the base camp where wattage won him bronze, content was I with 4th, attempting to regain composure in Rudd Rd. Ange, Ron, Bo and Linda vied for a special Lemontree sprint stage, a race for the warm seats and first rights to place a breakfast order? Conversation on Marz, mullets, Le Tour and swingers proved verbal variety.
Saturday nights innaugural Goat Ball was a hoot, many of the gathered Goats in fine fettle, the green jacket presentation (principal Skinner), Goat of the Year (the tenacious Tina) , Heady's ditty o' diatribe, an unveiling of the Head Goat mayoral chain, all washed down with copious grape hydration amounted to a sweet Sunday slumber (but a gastric eruption for some) .
The prologue habit was easy to break on Monday with a minus 3 forecast so it was a lazy roll to Friars in search of any Antarctic explorers. Only Coggo, Carl, Tum and Belly were in a fit state at 6 bells, so a frosty five found Old Dookie Rd to single file an effort east. Behind Coggo's smooth drive to Central Ave, I had a dip to School Rd, Tum took a tamer tempo that all could manage to Boundary Rd. Carl cranked a fluctuating shift, twas an effort to stay aboard tucking in after I'd flattened my batteries from a long go at the front. Belly took a short turn (hindered by the handbrake of Goat Ball hydration?) and so the turns alternated. The oncoming Craig "lotsalumens" roasted the retinas as we speared toward the Broken bridges, the miniscule rise from one tree dam to River Rd threatening the thighs. My go again when we steered into River Rd, concentration on a smooth speed and shifting the goal posts to "one more white post" driving a 3400 metre turn. Ready to peel off the front when a call of "car back" put me on hold, 170 bpm and waiting for the overtake took an eternity. I emptied the driving drawer catching the last wheel, great to get into the draft but muscles mimicked meltdown. There was just enough time in the tow to recover for the next shift starting at Mt. Nicolaci, an interruption for the traffic peak (5 cars) at the highway and on to the horse stud. Tum took the reigns as we swung into Conrod, he put in a mighty turn till the noddies told the end was nigh, but I couldn't take the candy from the baby, letting him enjoy the well earned chocolates.
I was almost charged with aggrevated assault on the snooze button Tuesday morning, dredging the depths of disdain to overcome winters apathy. A northeaster blew (13-20 km/h) to torment the trip to the Emu, watching the heart rate climb from 119 to 160 but ignoring the speed (may have shattered a fragile ego). Guessing I'd be suffering the k cravings if Wednesday's forecast came true drove me on, the turn south was bliss, the Toaster turn even better. Approaching Boundary, a Cat pack of l.e.d.'s were oncoming, steering south shifting my focus on being pursued. (or is pursuing better?) Distance is hard to define in the dark, seemed to be holding the gap heading south but the lights loomed closer in River Rd. Cate and Cougar braved the eastbound leg as I attempted some form of progress west, the glance back becoming a ritual by Central Kialla. Fleeing became futile as I turned into Mitchell Rd, lights even closer as I crawled up Mt. Nicolaci (but I held a little gap with a clean cross of the highway) Reaching the horse stud the Cat collective of 16 passed, so I took advantage of a free tow in Conrod witha a g'day to G and BassoDave as they sorted their pecking order to the finish line.
Wednesday's thunderstorm forecast came true (slumber training a rare treat), weird weather arrived Thursday, a mild 9.5 degrees, foggy, with a light northeaster blowing, an unusual combo for mid winter. Intercepting Wozza on the main drag to spin south to the Couldabeens, winter without ice prompted proper population (Tuesdays turbo tempo tests 'tendance) of Rocket, Cougar, ChrisA, AvantiChris, PistolPete, SpinDoctor, Jase, Trav, FeltMat, Temple and AvantiTrev. The first leg to Doyles Rd on the front with Wozz was an exercise in eternity, emptying energy early, elongating effort, essentially eroding ego's engine. Finally tucked into the delicious draft of recovery on leg two, others ventured forward for a dip at the deep end, inspiring to see Temple taking a turn but AvantiTrev, Cougar and FeltMat were luxuriating in the co-efficient of drag. SpinDoctor divulged he's been pushing the bigger gears out front ; still appears dervishly dizzy to me! Our flight south and west was bouyed by breeze north and east, River Rd's normally labourious length covered quickly and comfortably. It was a rare appearance for AvantiChris on a Thursday, Jase on a cold come-back but there's still many regulars missing. Exiting Roubaix and convincing the cranial critics to crack another turn at the business end, Pistol, SpinDoctor, Rocket, ChrisA and Wozz (line astern) bumped up the pace as the end drew nigh, evaporating enthusiasm and vapourising vim for me to sit back in the survival seat. Like lambs to the slaughter, Conrod crucified Pistol and SpinDoctor, Wozza and Rocket relegating all others to B graders, electing me as their tortured tow truck for the last 300 metres. The fog morphed to mist to saturate the slog home.
The slim window of hope was left ajar on Friday's radar, a gap to squeeze a lap in, prior to precipitation. Graham-Verney-Ford-Wanganui and Rudd was the warm up course, soaking up the northeaster was a soft serve start (not as soft as Hollywood's porridge though). Back into town for a little interval training (traffic lights) then south on Conrod straight pondering a Couldabeens intercept. The radical action of changing gear had to happen facing Mitchell Rd, 24km/h gusts were taking up the slack. Climbing Mt Nicolaci (and predicting Pistol's pace) the Couldabeens collaboration was cancelled, chasing the tail-light ahead seemed an easier option. A trip down memory lane (eastward along the length of Mitchell) caught and passed Craig, setting about growing the gap in spite of the wind hinderance. A lengthy string of Cat l.e.d.'s swung west into River Rd as I plotted a Boundary-Old Dookie course home, crossing tracks with Goats Heady, Coggo and Belly southbound at the Pub. A luxury leg home blown west along Old Dookie, back up the driveway just as the first spits of rain fell, heavens opening as the bike was parked, <yr.no> praised for it's accuracy.
Week 30 248 km YTD 8,881
Pleasing to get page views from China, USA and Oman, some of your weather would be welcome!
No comments:
Post a Comment