There's only myself to blame setting Strava Grand Fondo targets then leaving the challenge till the last weekend! The now habitual Saturday supplementary drew Wozza, Rocket, Trav, Nick and Temple to A Mart at 5, a "cruisy" 30k suddenly an effort fighting the southerly (15-28 km/h), so I was somewhat spent by Galbraith's gate after an 11k push from home at the breezy end. "It's us!" was hollered from Roubaix, Kel and Bo emerging from the darkness to form an octette, record numbers for the earlybird special. Wozz and Bo paired in Mitchell and raised the stakes, Kel, (off colour) sitting in the rear ranks. Well ahead of our timetable, we'd travelled the River-Boundary-Channel course to have the luxury of seven minutes socially spare at the carpark, welcoming ChrisA, Cate, Mel(-Car), Jen, Cougar, Pistol, FDC's Ralphy and Ozzie, AvantiTrev, Shorty, SuperMario, Ange and GTCraig into the family, twenty one to spear East on Channel. Nerves were neutralised without strangers aboard, many finding comfort in familiar company, Bowie's "we can be heroes" playing on my cerebellum as the breeze boosted our velocity north on Boundary. There's no more scenic sunrises in Old Dookie as days shorten, an oncoming car at the narrow bridge in Pine Lodge North Rd compressed the bunch short with a sudden slow. Mel, Cate and Jen ploughed into the westerly struggle home, sandwiched between Pistol and Wozz kept me speechless, trees and an occasional orchard a blessed shelter from the southerly. Sitting out the sprint (predicting the tyranny of distance) I inherited AvantiTrev and Cougar in tow though, some pleasure in picking off a few martyrs that had paid the price of early pace up Wanganui hill. Boulevard bound back to town, it was a struggle to tear away from a social epilogue, but solo out New Dookie Rd to top off the ton and be Stravasatisfied, the long track to the church was a wake up exposed to the elements, sorely missing the cover of a bunch. Hope was pinned on the wind staying southerly, just the short 1000 meters to the Toaster to endure before the westward leg home. The breakfast menu scrolled through my wish list as a diversion for the buffeting breeze 12k's to town, the distance estimation spot on as 100 clicked over just 200 metres from the Lemontree. Many from the 6am bunch were still ensconced in breakfasts banter, my reward was a warm welcome and witty words with Cate and Mel on mind-over-matter, reachable goals and climbs. Seems the floodgates had opened to clocking a ton, Rocket, Wozz and Mel all ticking the Grand Fondo box that morning.
Just a little bit of choke and easy on the throttle, taking the old engine on a gentle 5:10 warm up round the golf course lap on Monday. Mental preparation was lacking for the niggling southerly, the plan to loop Raftery was the rigorous route, inspiration to reach the end coming from the predicted relief in Mitchell. Don't you just love the serenity of a tailwind, all goes quiet (save for the Carbone chorus), pedals turn to feathers and the ego inflates proportional to the speed. A glide up Archer found AvantiTrev, Pistol, SuperMario, Cougar and WhisperingJack southbound to the Sanctuary Park roundabout, so I u-turned to join their peace train (seems to be the popular peleton of late). Bikes back were noticed on our turn to Mitchell, Gazzagrasshopper and RossT climbing aboard after starting from the wrong grid. A steady tap along River Rd, passing Craig Lotsalumens (two headlights......really?), then a windswept tour of Boundary and Channel roads home, all in the cardiac comfort of zone 3. Gazzagrasshopper and RossT (hereafter dubbed Hash-brown) were unable to resist the lure of legging it on the Cha Cha, whilst the peace train rolled casually back to town.
A copious congregation at Friars on Tuesday for a Goat gathering, Heady, Belly, Snow, Coggo, Carl, MeridaJohn, Sandy, Kate, Joe, Speissy, Phil, AvantiLeigh, HG Phillo, AvantiAndy and Deb had assembled, newbies Stella and Sunbeam (cadence like a mixmaster) into the bunch as the group exited town, collecting Tina and JB. It was a yo-yo start to Old Dookie Rd when half the bunch baulked for a B double, AvantiLeigh lighting the afterburners when all were back on. Speed had settled beyond Central Ave, the newbies making a cautious contribution in Boundary, Geoffrey (on an early getaway) was caught and absorbed into the crowd. 13 degrees had invited armwarmers and even a pair of 3/4's to be worn, I braved a base layer but was beginning to cook by the turn into River Rd. Rhythm returned for the tour west, Fast Eddy appeared in the rotation at Archer, pace picking up toward the serious end of the ride. Carl opened up the throttle in Conrod to turn the bunch single file, Phil hanging on behind till his rubber band snapped. I took to the front as Carl's speed spluttered, but Coggo had his turbo wound up at the last dip to take the trophy, no complaints from me as runner up.
As welcome as a crutch carbuncle, a southerly (18-24 km/h) harassed the hippocampus commuting to the Couldabeens Thursday, uncomfortable with the negatives on the neurals even before a lap had started. I felt like a Mahindra amongst the McLarens following up the performances of Boof, Rocket and Wozz in legs one and two, but survived the speed surprisingly. Startled by the sudden appearance of a car from behind the long grass of kindergarten corner (copious complacency craving caution for the future) panic stopped the pack (KillkennyPaul hit the deck, but without injury) causing a slow leg four to regroup by the cypress trees. Back on the gas, the big engines of Bo, Ron, Huddo, Nev and Robbo propelled the mob to River Rd and beyond. Long time no see Robbo and old faithful Opera, still performing perfectly, Lucy braving the front too where many feared to crank. Bo retired to Kel's mechanical aid, velocity hiding half the field, relegated to the rear without an appearance. A clear and quick cross of the highway set up a swift finish, pride polished glancing at the Garmin's 45km/h display but the tenacity tested fronting another turn. Against all reasoning I went again to the rushin' front as the turns rolled quickly, 50km/h at Conrod's first dip signalling my swansong. Nev's long lead out pickled many, I crept round Jase as he threw in the towel, Trav (always with a bit left in the tank) cranked by, but it was Rocket and Wozz launching from Nev's draft to take gold and silver, only on the recovery roll did WhisperingJack, Nick, AvantiTrev, KillkennyPaul and AvantiMat appear from obscurity.
It was hardly like lambs to the slaughter at Friars on Friday, a whole lot of pain predicted for a little perverted pleasure (a peculiar past-time) aboard the pain train. Talk of a tame tap around was a fairytale figment of the imagination, down to business in Old Dookie Rd, Tum, Heady, me, Dipper, Coggo and Belly formed the Indian file east, Tum opening the account with a big donation of drive. The pursuit of a small bunch ahead pumped up the pace, 51 swept into Boundary as we slowed behind the four now caught. Passing Sue, Jim and others in Boundary, one jumped aboard, seven now southbound swiftly. Head handed me turn two at one tree dam, my mixed mindset of relax shoulders, touch thumb and index fingertips, regulate breathing, loosen the jaw, don't look at the heartrate, focus ten metres ahead, smooth the speed, think things delicious, arrow the trajectory......all seemed to work reaching River rapidly, but the oxygen starvation, hyper heartrate and rubber legs made catching the rearmost carriage hell in River Rd. There were encouraging words delivered for all who peeled off the front spent from speed, difficult to say thanks when each breath seems like your last. Tum put in an epic effort from Rivers' bridge to Mitchell Rd, Heady toasted at the turn. I had the perfect real estate at Arcadia Downs with Tum's next turn steadily increased to keep Heady attached (Heady's hernia happened just 50 metres later) then flicking me an elbow on the flat after Conrod's first dip. Right on top of the 14 cog at 83 rpm carved me through the easterly for the final fling, inspiration from Saturday's chat driving me to the chocolates, lapping up that semi surreal sensation as 50mm carbon wheels do their aero thing, or is it a matter of mind over matter?
Week 9 340km. YTD. 2,901 km
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