Week 38 Fruitloop'n

Post 309

Hopeful of a cruisy lap, Wozz and I set off for the habitual Saturday ride, keen to preserve some wattage for Sunday's Fruitloop. We took volunteered the first turn with the rear half of the grid congested (Rocket, Pistol, Trav, Jase, Nick, Shorty, Ange, Lynda, Cougar, Bo, Kel, Temple, Jen and Saturday specialist SuperMario), so much light to now navigate by, buildings long forgotten in winters gloom now almost unfamiliar sighted with the sun up. The Saturday social slant certainly satisfying, most weekdays seem to be all speed and survival, SuperMario's body language spoke struggle, once a week outings is jumping in the deep end. We'd made up ground on a solo bike in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, found to be Fisky, frisky on a slightly earlier getaway (toughening up to 4 degrees?), Ange gave his usual restrained greeting to the Cats as we crossed paths.  Sprint interest was off my list (mentally handbraked by the next days 180k) but I gave in to a little squirt up Wanganui hill (3rd fastest a surprise), Temple again finding my wheel for a tow. MexicanSteve joined the Lemontree breakfast table, chat on hot rods, ice and magpies blending with tank fillers of bacon, eggs and banana bread.

Sunday was number 10 Fruitloop for me and the BM, the sixth long one to challenge old bones, 40 had enrolled to do likewise on the 180k. Flagged off at 7.05 with police to smooth our slice through intersections, one big bunch tapped to the toaster, thanks to paramedic Gazza on point duty. Eastbound to Dookie, I copped a blast from some S-Works sausage, unhappy I'd sat up the road to echelon the bunch into the light southeaster (obviously he had no idea on aerodynamics or bunch decorum).  MexicanAnthony and Nev captained the ship to Dookie, spring turning on a postcard vista, the bunch staying together till Nalinga's rolling hills sorted the climbers from the chaff. There was a halt for Nath and I to tend repairs to Wozza's Foil, a jammed centre bracket collar fixed by saviour Nath (clever carrying a multi-tool for a cranks-off fix) Mobile again, Wozz, Nath and I swapped tempo turns to Violet Town, collecting and towing a few in for the brief break to fuel the tank for Harry's Creek Rd, (and to remove a layer with the sun doing its spring thing ; 17 degrees).  Back aboard two wheels, I made a deliberate move to hang back from the bunch, climbing (not my forte) best left as a solitary struggle ( a one-on-one with my hill demons). Eventually finding a rhythm for the hill (a 252 metre climb in 9.3 k) I was surprised to catch and pass a few (18km/h average), the three or four sharp hairpins a test (stuck defiantly on the 56 ring of course!), juggling of cadence, speed and heart rate the delicate balance. Happy to reach the fork onto Boonie Doon Rd, I'd long forgotten the next two k climb, turning legs to jelly. A pickled possum and an upside down wombat awoke the nostrils, an up and down 8k to Boho South school then one more 2 k climb till the downhill delight to Strathbogie. There wasn't enough recovery time for the uphill to the fire station but the Kelvin View descent was worth the previous ascent. I kept conservative at 63 km/h, the brave (SpecialisedTony and Clive) into the mid 70's, Nev the master blaster at 85. Troy joined Clive, SpecialisedTony and I to work the headwind back to Euroa, a food stop to strive toward. Wozz and others had berthed a few minutes before, Coggo, Sosso, Wizz, Paul VanP and more trickled in, a waiting game started to form a bunch for the slog home. Carl and Emmet were added to the fold to make up a lucky 13 sharing the 50k home, a 17-24 km/h northeaster as our foe. A solo ApolloSteve (Baccus Marsh) was being dive bombed by magpies as we reached Meipol, he was delighted to have our bunch catch and tow. The relentless headwind eroded enthusiasm for work at the front, a sense of teamwork urged another turn, then another, the alternative of taking on the elements alone unthinkable. A puncture within sniffing distance of Mitchell Rd brought all to a compassionate stop, a chance to draw breath for many and pass wind for others. Underway after repairs, respite form the wind was brief in Mitchell Rd, Archer Rd's 6k's seemed like 60......so near yet so far. Finally to town with the lure of a feed and a cold beer driving the street speed to the finish, thanks went all round to the co-operative crew, like banging your head against a brick wall, it was lovely to stop, 180k in 5 hrs 30 needed 3900 calories replaced. 

Like the creak from the Munsters' front door, the legs were reluctant to bend on Monday, a touch tender in the toosh too, but nursing a niggling knee was a priority. A quiet 28k roll was the prescription, out against a light northeaster on Old Dookie Rd bearable, the bonus of a breeze behind promised little effort on the return home....a fairer finish than yesterday. Quietly back to town and legs now loosened, Jen, Car+Mel were found in ArcherRd to make a social sequel.

The 4am shower struck a few off the start list, a wicked westerly (24-39 km/h) scared many more under their doonas, only Coggo, Belly and Heady fronting Friars on Tuesday, a 30 second drizzle retreating any others.  We gained CatKev at the SPC roundabout, forecast frightening felines, furtively failing to front?  I'd assumed the front of the Indian filed quintet, cranking up the tempo when we were clear of Doyles Rd.  The westerly assistance inflated egos, 80rpm and 140bpm @ 45 km/h seemed easy. Everyone had a slice of the tail wind cake (and Strava trophies for Old Dookie : 42 average) but there was work to be done for the rest of the lap.  Head down and tail up in Boundary Rd, I was as pleased as Malcolm Turnbull glancing at the speedo, far better than expected with wind whipping at the starboard bow.  Turns had gone full circle by one tree dam, back to me for another shift plus some overtime of a rigorous rip into River Rd for a k, then handing it to Heady ( struggling with the speed but scores an A+ for effort), the h.r. comparison of my 144 to Belly's 278 (not that he's prone to exaggeration). Coggo's legs were as Fruitlooped as mine but he drove a great turn to the dip, CatKev our saviour to Rivers' end. I found Central Kialla kinder with a little shelter so added a k of Mitchell to make my share fair, and a helping Heady hand.  Belly and Coggo took on MtNicolaci and the open plains to the highway, CatKev to the horse stud where the wind was easier port side. Feeling in fairly fit form, I aimed to reach Arcadia Downs, then extended it to the start of Conrod, then again to the first dip before showing Heady the elbow. There were few eager near Conrod's end, my competitive side hunting down Belly as he poured on the power in the closing metres.

And Lo,  a great calm fell upon the Wednesday (the Tuesday tempest, I shall not want), smooth was the tarmac and thy Fizik did comfort me, surely fitness and mercy would follow me for the lap? The Couldabeens grid was filling from the rear again, SpinDoctor, Nick, Pistol, Rocket, Temple, AvantiChris, ChrisA, Jen, Cate, Shorty, Hollywood, Car+Mel, Cougar, Jase and Trav eventually moving up when I parked 10 metres ahead in No1 spot.  WhisperingJack joined at Kialla Lakes (brewing a breakaway), I got dizzy with SpinDoctors cadence (98) beside me (67). Calm conditions created a quick crank along Mitchell, A Genesis/51 train full steamed west, Cats behind with a subtle Ange greeting attached, good to see the P&W's back in action too. Cate is impervious to 4 degrees in short knicks, SpinDoctor had a queer query on hydration, comparisons on the Fruitloop held with several and most are wishing winters grip on Spring would loosen. A pairing with Rocket up to the Broken Bridges bumped up my h.r. but there were few turns to do in the populated peloton (18). The pot of anticipation brewed at the Channel Rd kindergarten, the bunch boring into Hopeful corner (Hopeful of the draft at 6th or 7th wheel / Hopeful of being Rockets' bridesmaid / Hopeful of hanging on!) for the Cha Cha.  I had a good position to pick off the early expirees and puff my way to 5th, gaining composure on the recovery cruise back to town, caught coy copping Cate's complimentary comments. Great work by Car+Mel to dive into the deep end of a quick lap.

A southwester niggled the neurosis on Thursday for the ride South with Wozz.  Pistol, Rocket, Shorty, Nick, WhisperingJack, Trav, Cougar, AvantiChris, Temple and BigMat (remarkable reincarnation!) lined up at the car park in upper and lower house sittings. It's been a while since I took on a double shift as an opener, recalled the suffering fairly quickly when half way through leg 2 though. Voices from behind called me over just a few turns later, only 7 locomotives pulling a train of 13 today. WhisperingJack's swan song in Boundary Rd lasted to the bridges, I found it hard to match Pistol's pace then Wozza's wattage driving to River Rd (southwester didn't help).  As AvantiTrev appeared from the west, I was hoping Pete and Wozz would tow us all the way home (that was as likely as a Palestine peace plan) but my turn came up again at Laws drive.  Pushing the limits of mental abandonment, I lasted a k, grateful of AvantiChris' tow in Central Kialla. Yet another turn came up at Archer Rd, fewer locomotives and more carriages to climb Mt.Nicolaci.   It was only Rocket, Pistol, Wozza and I swapping turns from the highway, a final fling out of Roubaix to the horse stud, then all my energy eggs went into the basket of 'hanging-on-for-grim-death'. The usual 40 cm gap to the wheel ahead had chasmed to 3 metres as Wozz, Rocket and Pistol applied even more power, my view now a vignetted Greta Garbo soft focus. There's something deeply primal happening calling for more when the body says "forget it!" but something extra is found as the fear of failure looms, trying to keep others aboard the express while playing gatekeeper bearing a weight of responsibility. There was some relief as Conrod swung into view, but a further kilometre of survival was the rude reality. Wozza took the reigns out of the dip and threw himself on the sprint sword at 45 km/h, Rocket timing his launch at the last dip to finish the mornings ritual.

Friday......all aboard the train of pain, the bus of fuss, the truck of fu.....tile endeavour. The only punters, Belly, Heady, Coggo, Tum and Joe (ironically, Friars outdoor speaker playing Powderfingers' 'Passenger') mounted up, a tentative tour out of town, preparing for pace. Heady, Tum, me, Joe, Coggo and Belly filed singly East, Heady warming the hot plate, Tum dialling it up to ten (I always seem to get the wheel on a mission!) Driving duties were shared for Old Dookie Rd, Tum back at the helm in Boundary from the pig pen to Channel Rd (burning the legs after cooling them most of the week), so I felt my contribution was to crank to River Rd, heart rate on an escalator but the Garmin speed frozen at 36.5 (flat cadence/speed sensor battery?)  A well populated Couldabeens bunch were bearing North as we swung into River, Joe became the passenger (previously Powderfinger predicted) as Coggo set the tempo. Belly was uncharacteristically mute driving to the dip (h.r. At Zimbabwe's inflation rate?), Tum burying himself to Rivers' end, my privilege cutting the headwind to Mitchell.  We'd made ground on a six pack ahead as we reached the highway, rolling out of Roubaix we'd caught P&W's  Meags, Fox, Fee, Princess and co.  A polite pause behind till the coast was clear at the horse stud, then speared onto Conrod, Heady (by a short head) heading the finish.

Week  38 ;   432km.   YTD 11,509 km