Week 19. Practicing the poker face

Post 344

Is it the company that determines speed? Saturday's social spin turned somewhat swift with Wozz, Jase, Kel and Bo the early birds at A Mart at 5, a little northeaster helped me to level with Wozz to Arcadia Downs but the turn into Mitchell Rd (where Ange joined in) had respiratory repercussions.   A slow at Archer Rd was a repose for BigRon's arrival (delayed by doona?), then back into the pace for Central Kialla and River Rd. Eyes on the time may have set the tempo, BigRon and Bo pairing together spelt shenanigans.  It was a slog up Boundary Rd then the taste of duck soup in Channel Rd with the breeze behind, BigRon's squirt of speed beyond the cypress trees bringing us back to base with four minutes to spare.  Popularity populated the carpark, KillkennyPaul, Rocket, Jen, PistolPete, Fisky, AvantiAndy, TatPaul, Car+Mel, Shorty, Bruce, Cate, Nick, Cougar, Temple, AvantiTrev and Boof packing the positions, with newbie Rob in the rear ranks.  There was draft delight sitting in a big bunch as the rotation promoted me forward, greetings along the way while head counting, the names to be jigsawed later when the cerebrum had some free time.  Wozza's corner (still skiddish) caused caution, PistolPete drew alongside to make me work to Boundary's bacon barn.  There's an inspiring infection from Cate, Car+Mel's enthusiasm, driving forward despite the velocity to test their performance at the pointy end.   The eastern assault of Old Dookie Rd turned messy as turns varied short, long, fast and forlorn, hopes pinned on the west way home to smooth out the rough spots.  Nath arrived from road bike obscurity, maybe he's changed to AvantiAndy's coaching program of three rides a month?  The turn at the Emu infected most with rhythm, the east northeaster (perceived but later unfounded by the bureau) injecting a high 30's vaccination.  Ahead, Ange ground the 12 cog, Kel was the definition of smooth, Rocket made 40 look easy but arriving at the front is another world! Practice the poker face peeps......it intimidates your driving partner! (if that's necessary).  The sprint scenario stirred ahead of me as Ford Rd finished but my motivation lacked a motor, so took the easy way out sitting in the back seats.  Temple's role of gatekeeper turned to tow truck as a big gap opened, I cranked out of his draft to play Spakfilla, with Kel in my tow filling the hole to make it a group gasp up Mt.Wanganui.  The Rudd Rd regroup rode the Boulevard bound for breakfast (somewhat of a sprint for seats), cold feet, challenges and bike mechanics on the verbal table, protein breakfast on the breakfast table for some. 

Monday's monsoon put riding on the back burner, following Sunday's mandatory rest day the craving grew stronger.  A Continental explosion startled me in the wee small hours of Tuesday, a tube eruption through a Michelin sidewall (sliced by stone) to blame. A bolt from bed, a rapid tyre change, new tube, wolf breakfast, gulp coffee, quick kit-up, out the door.......to find showers starting!  So, back to bed bliss, but that addiction niggled.

A three day bike break seemed an eternity, at last the opportunity of a fix Wednesday morning. The chill of a west northwest cut through the base layer navigating the Boulevard to the golf course, great to be back aboard the Baum but getting legs and lungs accustomed and slowly simmering a knocking knee.  Couldabeens converged on the carpark (Bruce, Wozz, Rocket, Hoges, Cate, Hollywood, SuperMario, Cougar, AvantiTrev, PistolPete, Boof and Chops), a pacy 6am start south still didn't make the Sanctuary Park roundabout any closer.  Hoges paired up beside me for the drive to the truck route, unsettling with a little too much MTB in his technique.  North at Central Kialla with the wind at port bow was no hinderance for PistolPete and Rocket on the front, the quick canter down River Rd had several select sit-on mode.  Darkness now hounds us for most of the circuit, not till the towns edge does some light brave the day (if it can pierce the cloud cover).  The Cha Cha inspired the regular sprinters and a few sprintenders, without trying I'd managed to round up several abandoning ship in the last two hundred metres.  A small handful had long gone OTA by the school, the concerted effort to tame tempo finally had the bunch reform in town.

There was a copious carbonaria cacophony cranking to the Emu on Thursday, heartrate was at idle nudging fourty with a wicked westerly (28km/h) behind, but the forecast payback from the toaster onward preserved some fortitude for the battle ahead.  Facing the Toaster turn west (gusts of 37km/h) hit hard, what was I thinking going into battle this solo?  Chin on the headstem, even sneaking the chain onto the 18, the category two climb up the channel bridge in Old Dookie tested the limits. If you could call it recovery, the southern leg on Boundary Rd calmed the heartrate below 170, the wind at the wheels setting a WobblyTrev trajectory.   River Rd's reality (up to 43km/h of headwind) questioned my sanity, windblasted in the wide open spaces between the odd clumps of roadside trees bared teeth, summoned cusses and inflamed anger at the elements (assisted by oncoming knobs who can't dip headlights!)  Christmas arrived early turning south at River Rd's end, suddenly serenity without the wind blowing between my ears but the two kilometre holiday ended too fast, back to the grind on Mitchell, the relief of Raftery (out of the headwind) just 3k's away was the only inspiration left. A sense of achievement reaching Conrod straight, surviving solo without the aid of a bunch tow,  somewhat safer away from a bunch battered by brutal blasts.  

The Pain Train wasn't running Friday (peace prevailed), so caught the Couldabeens congregation, commuting with Jase and Wozz to join PistolPete, Boof, Shorty, Bruce, Hoges, Nick, Cougar, Bo, Chops, Kel, AvantiTrev and Temple.  A west northwest wind loaned the enthusiasm to take the helm for the long 3k shift to Sanctuary Park, the damp track from an early shower assured a squashed worm decoration we'd clean off later.  I'd almost reached the rear in River Rd but Kel, Temple, Bo, AvantiTrev and Cougar had taken up permanent residence.  Words of wicked wisdom were shared with Choppy, Hoges (in need of proper attire) still headed to the front for crucifixion (just needs to pace his turns prior to implosion). Boof and I scored the war on wind in Boundary Rd to One Tree Dam, hopes of me doing the distance with Wozz to Channel Rd were respiratorily ruined by the Broken bridges.  We tip toe'd round Wozza's corner and into Channel Rd, tempo brewing for the Cha Cha, but the call of puncture at Kinder corner shut down the sprint, sledges instead to Jase on the repairs.    PistolPete provided the pace home as a sprint substitute, concluded with the cordial commute with Cate and Boof homeward. 

Week 19 :     227km                   YTD  5,983 km

Great to hear BassoDave is out of the halo and into a chair, lightweight but steadily on the mend.