Week 37 Drivers and survivors

Set forth on solo clockwise Toaster lap (with Quarry extension) at 5.40 Saturday, the aim to join the Goats on their anti-clockwise spin, a tester for next weeks 180k Fruitloop.  The Boulevard darkness evolved to eastbound enthusiasm, watching a scenic sunrise, a blue over orange sky slowly revealing the hectares of yellow canola waist deep in fog.  Aiming at Mt.Major's silhouette with the heart rate locked on 138, it was well worth the effort to arise to see the start of day 21,198 of life on the planet.  76rpm suited the legs and lungs, but my presence didn't suit the telephone exchange magpie, tapping several "move on!" reminders on my helmet.  Cows chewed the Kellogg's cud, Cosgroves canola patchwork distracting the distance ahead, the mini mountains of stone at the Quarry pointing the way south.  A hint of SSW wind (5-11 km/h) was just beginning to niggle at the nerves when New Dookie Rd's welcome steered me west, a sudden whip crack of feathers announced magpie #2's annoyance at my space invasion.  Kept my head (and retaliation) down, sights were set on salvation reaching the Pine Lodge church. Not a lot of fuel used reaching the Toaster, a reasonable rate of knots getting to Boundary Rd, but a slog South to River Rd with the odd rearward glance, realising I was just ahead of Saturday's pussycat express. Nev and Ron were cruising northbound, four k's of effort for me to finally reach River Rd. Burning calories westward I crossed paths with Craig Lotsalumens, almost unrecognisable in daylight minus his billion candlepower headlight. Savouring the forecast tailwind for Raftery Rd drove the Mitchell Rd motivation, though Mt Nicolaci hammered the hamstrings. Relief rounding Roubaix to enjoy  the assisted passage back to town but magpie #3 meant business beaking the Bell, multiple flyby's with claws raising my hat in disgust at the intrusion (nerd note to Garmin- radar magpie sensor?). Back to civilisation, I had eyes peeled for southbound Goats, not till reaching the lake did the long line appear. I hooked a u-turn to join Coggo, Belly, CerveloJohn, Speissy, Heady, Dipper, Hommy, Tina, Sandy, RetiredDave (or should he be labelled Spartacus?), Snow, Carl and AvantiAndy, with Ky immigrant Manny aboard a suave SLC01. It was a gift to be towed in comfort shielded from the southerly, the dream draft of Belly only surpassed by his charismatic aura (embellishment will get me places he said!)  Mr Carl bloke broke a spoke reaching the highway, diverting home to perform a wheel swap as we wheeled Mitchell Rd, long turns at the front out of usual character for Goats but enjoyable to feed on small slices of social stimulation after 65 k's in isolation. A GrandFondo post mortem with AvantiAndy, a yarn with kilometre queen Tina ( 470km last week) and the now inevitable h.r. comparison with Belly, 150 to my 119. In an opposite flight path, the odd bike devotee or three had been drawn outdoors by sunshine and blue sky, we'd had the Hommy heater applied in Boundary Rd when he sniffed the front (flushing last nights excess alcohol hydration?) silencing the growing population in the rear carriages. I started to feel the drain of distance driving Old Dookie Rd beside Belly, how many more turns I'd tackle would depend on the homeward knots in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  Round the Toaster and up to the Emu, rolling turns started as wheels went west, feeling a little obligation I continued contributions at the front till Ford Rd when mental and posterior limits begged to be towed. Concentration on gate keeping distracted the distance dilemmas till others retired too, the rear carriages see sawing somewhat. The Wanganui Rd atmosphere effects Goats like Couldabeens, a sprint to the hill well underway at the transfer station (Goat motto : it's not a race........till the end!), the speed surge unhooking several of the rear runners, including me. Retired Dave, Speissy, Sandy, even Tina were left to defend for themselves, chivalry inspiring me to tow Tina and Sandy to the Rudd Rd regrouping. A cruise back to Friars to feed my flat white, eggs and bacon craving, chat in the sunshine on MachineSteve and Weapon's international hopes, but turbo tongue's testing, tenuous tech tattle 'twas tortuous. 120k and 2400 calories clocked.

Spring was stolen Monday, fat grey clouds rolled low across the darkness of Ford Rd, a strong NNW chilling the bones. No intention of exertion this week but an hr of 82 was too soft. A pause to adjust the strap rectified realism, back to the casual crank to Boundary Rd. Crossed New Dookie Rd to see Goats steering south in the distance, the breeze swinging WNW forecasting a push home in Channel Rd. A northbound Craig Lotsalumens has unfortunately found the strobe function, almost inducing epilepsy. Pointing west on Channels' meandering tarmac soon shifted the focus to determination, something about a headwind that draws out the fighting spirit to triumph over nature (stimulating the stubborn streak?) Eau de blood and bone fertilised the nostrils to flare further, by Orrvale Rd a restrained rage was driving the legs to finish, a quick backflip on the original intent. Carmen, Jen and Mel were found in Archer Rd, cruisy conversation for the roll home.

Those couple of extra minutes normally kept up the arm warmer had vanished on Wednesday, finding myself at full steam south to reach the Couldabeens grid for the 6am launch. The heart rate and monitor were working well (finally) reaching touchdown with a minute to spare, the front half of the grid vacant, the rear half crammed with Cougar, Mel, Jen, Carmel, Rocket, AvantiTrev, AvantiChris, Temple, Hollywood, PistolPete, Jase, Shorty, Trav, Nick and WhisperingJack.  Pistol fired the first shot, shooting the train into the breeze (SW @ 9-13) of Archer Rd, in the pairing I drew the long straw between Trav and AvantiChris, Hollywood drew the short straw of a Rocket roasting. SpinDoctor returned to the fold in River Rd,  climatising to cadence from two weeks off two wheels. Jen wasn't backward in going forward for a dip, WhisperingJack powered to the pointy end but the glory was short lived, a quick rotation preventing an explosion. A cautious crank into Boundary Rd minimised stretching the bunch rubber band, Goats grinding Indian file southbound. The usual sprinters were getting itchy by the cypress trees, and outclassed by speed and trying to preserve energy for Sunday, I stayed midfield for the Cha Cha, the social epilogue following most enjoyable. 

I was better organised on Thursday morning, enough to amble the commute to Friars, spring bringing out a large cast of Bickers Snr, Heady, Dipper, Hommy, Sandy, Tum, Kate, CerveloJohn, AvantiAndy, Baz, Deb, Snow, Belly and (under particularly tough circumstances) AvantiLeigh and bro Kim.  Coggo was an unusually late arrival at SPC, Tina typically at the weigh bridge, TravE appearing as the rotations commenced.  A few percolated the pace, Coggo calling for calm for the comeback kids (some already in the reality of resuscitation at the rear), an ironic feeling of payback when a magpie became a speed bump nearing Boundary Rd.  There's all sorts in the bunch, offering views, good tows, interesting styles, humour and some with challenging techniques.....variety being the spice of life. Fewer locomotives were towing more carriages in River Rd (Kim cracking under the tempo), Belly's 160 bpm outdid my 138 as eight engines drove west. There was peak hour traffic heading to the highway (well, 4 cars anyway) one definitely Mr Angry as we crossed Melbourne Rd.  The first whiff of Conrod had Tum and Hommy locked into a sprint battle (albeit about 500 metres premature) TravE and I playing the waiting game six wheels back till their vigour vaporised.   At the last dip we were off the seat in sprint synchronicity, but Trav had the (younger?) superior speed.

A pair of new Pro4's had tested and tormented the thumbs, a tight fit on the Mavics but a smooth roll on New Dookie Rd Friday morning (and a ripper reassurance of ripe rubber for Sunday's Fruitloop) The tarmac was more noticeable under the new Michelins, the 20mm stone quite harsh on the arsenal. Steamed along to Pine Lodge church, down to the Toaster and back on Old Dookie, Cats but a distant flicker as I steered south into Boundary Rd.  Hard to avoid a squizz at the sunrise, 6.05 and already an orange band lit the horizon. Westward in River Rd, feeling like fresh fodder for a frisky feline feeding frenzy, eyes were in search of the Couldabeens, Craig Lotsalumens pulsations were seen at the dip, the Couldabeens constellation of CatEye's and Cygo's cranking East at the channel. Climbed aboard the collection of Pistol, Shorty, Kenworth, Rocket, Jase, Wozza, Nick, AvantiChris, AvantiTrev, Cougar, WhisperingJack, Lynda, Jen and Hollywood, slotting into the prime real estate behind Kenworth. Adding 30% to the solo pace takes a little adjustment, the bunch segregated again between the drivers and survivors (though the upgrade is only a little leap of faith away)  An orange ball of sun sitting atop the canola craved a photo, up to the front with Kenworth at the Broken bridges then with AvantiChris to Channel Rd's S bend was enough tax to pay for me.   The question at the kinder was who was offering themselves as sacrifice to the sprint gods? Pistol, Wozz, Hollywood and Rocket were obvious candidates, all others queued quickly behind me when I refrained from the dash.  Calm collected the crew at the school for a steady roll back to town where southerners swung socially for coffee, the northern working classes (Wozz, AvantiChris, Kenworth and I) wheeled our way to work.

Week 37 ; 296km     YTD 11,077 km

Big congrats to MachineSteve, UCI amateur road racing world champion (50-54)