Philosophy at five on Saturday morning, Temple the only taker for a prologue to the six o'clock social, cycling standards, hopefuls beyond their boundaries and forming a bunch council were chewed over on a Wednesday route, a good distraction from my legarthic legs, unaccustomed as they are to a 400 k week. The cool climate appears to be entrenched, 12 degrees and a chilled southwester brings base layers and arm warmers out of mothballs but 33k clocked before 5:55 had put some warmth into an old engine and ticked an achievement box. The car park had only drawn Lucy, Boof, Rocket, Wozz, Cate, Cougar, Pistol, Shorty and Jen to the grid, attendance distilling to the die hards. Eggsercising (pun intended) east on Easter Saturday, Lucy and I at the front of house took the small train slowly up to speed to kerb complaints, a well sized bunch really to share the load around and bump up the heart rate more than twice. (Bunch gazing bred a Fossilosophy; ride styles are like fingerprints, from the rock steady, the mixmaster, the chin-on-the-headstem, the headbobber, to the fourtyseven-freewheels-per-kilometre, all identify the persona and proximity to position to!) A bonus southwester turned up the tempo northward on Boundary Rd, odd to witness Boof short shifting (a holiday hiatus hangover) but Lucy cranks out the long turns (she's come a long way in a short time). PistolPete pedalled pokerfaced (nobody knowing his limit) with Wozz (rugged up in winter kit) turned up the heater a notch in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, Jen proclaiming to be pooped, but all her cylinders were firing at the front. Wozza's puncture donated an intermission in Ford Rd (a timely break to keep the pin in the grenade), the subsequent pit stop sledging an amusing interlude punctuated by an explosion of a pinched tube. Resuming after repairs, it was a restrained and sprintless course completion, Boulevard banter followed by Lemontree laughter on text interpretation, the imperial / metric hangover and pilot licensing polished off the days opening hours.
To erase Easters eggstravagance, I called a 6am Toaster lap Monday, Wozz, Jase, Shorty, Boof and PistolPete forming chocoholics anonymous at A Mart. Pleased Boof and Wozz took the first shift south on Raftery, I was blaming the cold on muscle and lung laxness, my first facing of the furious end (from Arcadia Downs to Roubaix) taxing enough. The search for the almost elusive nasty pot hole (between Archer and Central Kialla) is a thing of the past, now patched perfectly to prevent posterior pummelling. A tailwind treat northbound to River Rd, Shorty playing fair beside me for our easterly effort toward Boundary. I was aboard the emotional roller coaster of rotation ; excitation, realisation, exertion, exhaustion, frustration, rehabilitation.....and repeat as necessary. An extra light joined in on Old Dookie Rd, CerveloSimon (Melbourne), quickly drafted to reduce our workload. Shorty shortened shifts on the long drag west back to town, no stopping Wozza and Boof though, Simon probably wondering what the hell he'd let himself into. There was no sprint as such for Wanganui hill but the tempo turned up to toasty anyway, a headcount at Rudd Rd finding Simon AWOL so backtracking found him fixing an attack of the bindi at DECA. Repaired and re mobilised, we rolled back to the Lemontree, the public holiday pleasure of an alfresco breakfast and babble.
Eagerly eating excess Easter eggs ebbed enthusiasm, easily eroding entrants early on Tuesday for the mornings Couldabeens, just Pistol, Wozz, Kenworth and Choppy bothered to grid for the 5:50 flagfall. Doing a double dose of duty at the front first up hammered my heart rate, staying in touch in Pistols draft to recover on leg three even burnt up the reserves. (would my h.r. Climb down from 183 in time for the next turn?) Kenworth's, Wozza's and Choppy's turns rotated quickly but I mustered the effort to drive to Channel Rd's end inspired by the thought of shelter from the southerly in Boundary. The order had shuffled in River Rd (now blessed with Kenworths draft) though the speed was starting to strain all but Wozz and Pistol. Wozz called single file (music to my ears) into Central Kialla, Pistol powering to Mitchell, Wozz with a freakish effort to the highway, traffic thankfully allowing us all to pause for oxygen intake. Most had found a second wind in the long tow from Wozza, Chops taking the shift to Galbraith's, my burst to Arcadia Downs shuddered by a stick jarring the front wheel sideways. Pistol then Wozz turned up the torment in Conrod straight, Kenworth mustering the muscle to lunge to the line, recovery from 17k's at zone 5 was sweet on the roll back home with support from a tail breeze.
Attendance lifted Wednesday, Bruce, Boof, Car+Mel, Wozza, Cate, Nick, Pistol, Shorty, Chops, Temple, Cougar and MeridaMat (aka MattC) formed the Couldabeens contingent to tap 28 k's. Cooler and darker is testing commitment, but fourteen put their heads silently down to Mitchell Rd, turning a bit more chatty with the wind off the face headed east. Oncoming Cats were like Brown's cows in River Rd, Car+Mel and Cate exercised an excellent effort eastbound to Boundary, the southerly spurring speed (and silencing sentences) north to Channel. It was action stations for most on the way west back to town, tucked into the draft makes life easy till its contribution time (just my luck to arrive at the front at Prentice Rd) MeridaMat appeared miraculously from caboose obscurity to chase the Cha Cha challengers, Wozz snatching the victory from Boof. A satisfying social spin back to town with a hint of sunrise colour in the sky to relish (how soon we'll start and finish in darkness)
A relaxed roll to Friars on Thursday relived the early years on the bike when 28 km/h was working, the reminiscence restorative (but that rate may return in retirement!) Principal Skinner, Dipper, Phil, Bickers, Tum, Coggo, Kate, MeridaJohn and Belly had braved 8 degrees, full fingered gloves making their 2016 debut for me. Coggo slowly wound up the cruise control out of town, Bickers and Kate captains of the caboose. Phil put in a decent driving donation, a solitary l.e.d. lure ahead (Geoffrey) creating a chase. Belly seems hesitant to sit in a draft but turns on the torque at the front, Tum, MeridaJohn, Dipper and Coggo tore into the turns as the bunch swallowed Geoffrey. Phil's fire was fading as we neared Channel Rd, Principal Skinner's blast brief at the Broken bridges, but Geoffrey's attempt in the drivers seat was as short as the silence in Aleppo. The use-by date had arrived for Geoffrey and Principal Skinner in River Rd, you start to realise your own form at these moments (to contradict what self says). The torment of tempo had whittled down Phil in Mitchell Rd, MeridaJohn's blast up Mt Nicolaci was hard to match for me, the slow for traffic at the highway rated as recovery. Rolls had become regular as Arcadia Downs blurred by, just Tum, Coggo, Dipper, MeridaJohn and I facing the front for Conrod. The beginnings of a cold had restricted my respiratories to an ordinary turn, subsequently swamped by sprinters chasing the chocolates as I showed the elbow at the 350 metre mark.
Recent holidays and rain had deferred the pain train, rather ironic to commence again on April Fools day! Coggo, MeridaJohn, AvantiLeigh, Dipper, Tum, Carl and Heady presented at Friars, Tum already anticipating agony. Draft from a passing truck got me up to speed for the first shift to Dobson's bridge, possibly a bridge too far as I struggled to catch the tail wheel after the end of the shift. AvantiLeigh had plenty of pace for one getting just two rides in a week, Carl well tuned too just 12 hours after riding the Thursday night thrash, Heady was misfiring though. Coggo did his usual long and strong turn in Boundary Rd, a halt for traffic at the pub gave us a brief breather. My turn to the Broken bridges had AvantiLeigh and MeridaJohn give a fast follow up, a string of eastbound Couldabeens lights guiding our turn. All of River Rd in the tow was a gift, so my share was the drivers seat for Central Kialla Rd to Mitchell to return the favour. Melbourne Rd traffic caused a pause, there'd be no records broken today but the oxygen intake was sweet. Coggo had the helm to Arcadia Downs, Heady elbowed my turn just a few metres later, the effects of a cold limiting my lungs to make it to Conrod's first dip. Carl had hung back to tow an OTA Heady, but Coggo, AvantiLeigh, MeridaJohn and Dipper had something left for a fast (38.5 average) finish.
Week 13. 300 km. YTD 4,194 km
Great to hear of Scott-not-BassoDave's gradual improve, certainly has cast a caution curtain over the bunches.
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