Saturday 20th August
There was a long hard search for a positive outlook with the forecast threatening the Sam Miranda Gran Fondo. Rain was on the agenda but Boof, Wozz, PistolPete and I were stubborn enough (entry fees already paid) to head over to Oxley for the 8:30 off. 6.5 degrees, a damp road, a category three climb on dirt amongst the sealed rolling hills, 247 entrants, snow possible down to 800 metres and 0.9mm of promised rain certainly challenged the resolve, but there's always something to entertain on these events. A quagmire carpark, the rider parking next door lights up a smoke, bikes on the start line with pack racks and kick stands, one bloke riding in a sleeveless football jersey, even the StravaStalker signing on at the registration desk, made multiple "What the?!" Away at 8:30 in the third wave, we were soon into a rhythm on the Snow Road, some over-enthused powering past being dealt a dose of reality later. It was smooth sailing south on the Wanagratta-Kilfeera Rd with a light northwester behind, expired kanga's and wombats aplenty roadside as we closed in on the over-enthused and those on waves one and two. The first three rises on the route to Greta South tested this flatlander, off the back of the three Couldabeens to tap away in my own headspace, saving a little wattage for the bigger bumps ahead. The turn onto the gravel of Bullocks Lane brought home the reality of the last two events here, picking a smooth line through pot holes, gravel and ejected bidons till back on the terra firma of Benalla-Whitfield Rd. A few more uphills relegated me solo to h.t.f.u. for the Myrrhee pinch, but the event photographer wasn't going to catch me with my tongue dragging on the ground this year, composure swiftly summoned for the snap, then quickly back to gasping, wheezing and straining to the top. A light misting of rain chilled the short descent to Myrrhee, a turn right with a brief bliss of another 500 metres downhill, then the 4.5k gravel ascent of the Strade Nero (590 metres). Winter rains have etched deep grooves into the corners, the rear wheel playing skippy as I ground away on the 56/25 at 42rpm (an annual self imposed challenge). Mood lifted as I reeled in a few riders ahead (they were cheating on the little chainring!), the mist and sloppy grey mud adorning kit and bike to mimic a cyclocross. (do you get that on Zwift?) Pushing through the cloud, with thoughts wandering to more pleasant matters, the peak came slowly into view (180bpm), Boof, Pistol and Wozz waiting (5 min) at the top amped up the achievement more so. (thanks for waiting lads :) 7k of sealed descent into Whitfield through a chilly and misty atmosphere was made treacherous on a slimy and bumpy surface, feeling the tyres squirm on the corners kept the brakes in good use (sounding like sandpaper from the Nero's grit). A new loop around Cheshunt and Edi Upper introduced gravel episode three (did we really need more?), nothing like last years "hell of the north-east", but plenty 'o pot-holes to dodge kept eyes off the King Valley's beauty. Three Commerado's sailed by on the Edi rise, a few k's later us flatlanders sailed by them on the level. (horses for courses?) Moyhu appeared as our foursome became a dozen, gaining girls and boys including the StravaStalker :/ Working together kept the pace on, the final 30k tough, single filed into the strengthening northwester (28km/h). A couple of turns at the pointy end jellied my legs to sit out the last 20 in the tow, Boof and Pistol moving forward for punishment with Wozz driving the lions share back to Oxley. Distance had wearied the group down to eight, concentration lapsing in some with a slight touch of wheels (thankfully the lass keeping upright). Finally the finish chute came into sight, chuffed at a top 20 finish (3:46:46) with the great support of three mates, a change of clothes and a hearty feed washed down with a brew made us feel human again, our struggle nothing compared to the 211th finisher (across the line in 7:38:51)
Monday 22nd August
A quiet lap of New Dookie, Boundary and Old Dookie Roads was tapped gently Monday, legs legarthic from Fondo fervour. Even a few k's of Old Dookie Rd vanished as I zoned out on the world, the towns edge suddenly upon me before I knew it. Only Phil, Tina and Coggo had lined up at Friars, Coggo calling an Indian file at Dobsons bridge, dialling up the pace till my rectus femorus recalled the Strade Nero neurosis. Tina's headlight had gone to lunch so sat in as rear gunner (she'd earned her stripes yesterday with a fine 3rd in the C grade Kelly Country Road Race). Phil's squeezing time and work to fit a few laps in, gradually paying dividends from going OTA just a few weeks ago. A breeze assisted Boundary enthused Coggo into the high 30's, its almost a pleasure puffing in his fluid and unflappable draft. (how easy is speed with a smooth and steady metronome ahead, thoughts rewound to the diabolical days of WobblyTrev!) Damp and dry sections hinted at patchy showers earlier, there'd be little rest from bike cleaning again! Cold puddle water up the inside leg caused a gasp on my exit via the truck route, a push against the wind 12k's home was rewarded with four minutes to spare (for toast :)
Tuesday 23rd August
The tactics of a late arrival to the Tuesday turtles grid dissolved, the front rows retreating rearward to leave Temple and I to face the first shift, leg 2 to Orrvale seemed longer matching the young ChrisA. HBK, AvantiMat, AvantiTrev, Mel and Cougar made up the turtle troupe headed east on a foggy Channel Rd, 3 degrees a reminder winters grip hasn't let go yet. AvantiTrev pulled back on the reigns of pace after Mel's drive at the cypress trees, only making Temple, ChrisA, HBK and I gnaw at the bit. Up went the tempo for Boundary Rd, HBK had a front Ridley rattle rounding River Rd but it sounded like a squeak from the rear as he pressed the throttle. There was plenty of chat a k later (obviously not fast enough?) with long turns at the front by Temple, ChrisA and HBK. (I spy Hollywood reacquainted with his bike eastward). Temple set a swift standard on the southern leg to Mitchell Rd, but ChrisA had resigned to the rear, replaced by HBK to HBK me! Almost a whole bike ahead (and glancing back to bait me) quickly fuelled a payback, half wheel wars were on till Archer Rd, then a truce called seeing a big gap back to the bunch. It was left to AvantiMat, me and HBK to drive Raftery Rd, Temple denied access to the front by HBK raising the stakes. A turn from Arcadia Downs to Conrod, then I tucked in for a tow till HBK faded at the front. At the 300 mark I took the plunge, ChrisA was nipping at my wheels but I managed to take the chocolates for a birthday present.
Wednesday 24th August
Feeling fresh from Wednesday's 2 degrees (and a holiday from prologues), I found Wozz and Rocket at the main drag rendezvous, Mel and Cate a k south for a crisp crank to the carpark, comeback kids BigMat and Hollywood stood out (in profile) from Shorty, Boof, Pistol, Chops, AvantiMat, AvantiTrev, BigRon, Softa and Cougar. There was quite the shuffle behind Hollywood's opening salvo, Grumpy, BamBam, Troy and Pelly appearing on leg 3. Two long lines of ten speared through the sharp morning air (Cate short knicks tough but odd gloved), a little pre dawn light showing the ever enlarging pothole at River Rd's dip. A customary passing Poppa prose and on to Boundary, the Wozz and Rocket wattage silencing the critic. A few ruled out the advance to the front in Channel Rd, Tum found roadside beyond the cypress trees appearing to fix a flat, wheels wonky and wrist awry from a roo wrestle, but wifey to the wescue! Position in the up-line at Kinder corner was going to throw me in the deep end early, Softa had a last moment reality check of the driving duty and looked for an escape route (throwing a spanner in the rhythm of the bunch behind). 100 metres shy of Prentice Rd was my moment, no hope with 800 to go so all effort went into the 13 cog to stretch the bunch, Mel magnetised to my wheel in a birthday blitz but the big boys loomed behind to pounce, Boof off the Syncros seat leading a merry dance to the finish. (even BigMat emerged from the full lap tow for a piece of the action) An ADO allowed post ride caffiene with 8, club politics, insurance and government rorts too and fro across the table.
Thursday 25th August
A new pair of Easton Giro shoes put a spring in my step, but they didn't help the push into an 18 km/h south southwester to the Couldabeens carpark. The mix of PistolPete, Wozz, Hoges, Nev, BigRon, Roxket, Kel, Bo, Shorty, Trav, AvantiTrev, Huddo and Robbo sidelined a social soirée, silence, sweat and suffering on the schedule today. The price of early arrival was paid by leading the first (and longest) turn to Doyle's, Wozz most kind in pairing and old engine slowly up to speed. Bigger engines moved up the ranks, my inferiority complexes not too damaged as the speed stayed similar. Blood and bone on the veggies near the cypress trees was ordinary on the olfactories, Kel rolled a short turn, AvantiTrev and Trav in the caboose speechless. I almost consulted a therapist before joining the up line, the testing tempo between Pistol and Wozz tormented temporal temperaments. Shorty and Rocket then Huddo braved Boundary's breeze, Huddo grinding the big gears to River Rd. Promoted further to the front, I planned a short stay, the reality arriving at the business end said half that was enough! Keen to keep the rhythm I called Wozz straight over, my heartrate on an unending escalator to 180 bpm in an effort to keep the line unbroken. Kel, Shorty AvantiTrev and Trav (like me) were playing sensible in the rear ranks as the sultans of speed rolled turns in the fourties, asking more of lungs and legs as the pace percolated caused an internal jihad, the head wanting results, the legs wanting rest. BigRon and Bo were spent by Dave's Dip, Hoges disembarking at Melbourne Rd. There was 5k's of Raftery Rd to hang on while Nev, Rocket, Wozz, Pistol, Robbo and Huddo swapped sacrifices, it seemed eternal till Conrod came into view, then to search for even more wattage to stay in the draft of the sprint. Steptoe's finish line was bliss ending the hurt, near to 39 average explaining the rubber legs.
Friday 26th August
Another breathtaking (feels like -2.4 degrees) start to the day, ye olde right knee protesting at movement till arriving at the Couldabeens grid. Temperature, no doubt, had scuttled many comeback plans, but Chops, Kenworth, Wozz, Rocket, Boof, Pistol, Shorty, AvantiMat, AvantiTrev, Nev and Bruce formed in the three minutes till six. A super smooth Wozza start, the FDC formation of Ralphy, BamBam, Troy, Pelly and Sosso waiting to join on leg 3. Dawn almost measurably sooner puts confidence back in the lap, my team-up with Boof to the River Rd bridge shortened a little as Boof faded, Kenworth's turn a little shy too, but how good is his draft when the next turn rolled! The FDC's advanced for their shift, long-time-no-chat with Sosso who's made great strides with speed. On the brisk belt up Boundary Rd I pondered my position, fifth wheel by the Channel Rd S bend put me in the drivers seat way too early for ChaCha contention. (not that I could count on a place in this grid). I hit the front at Hopeful corner, Shorty saving my bacon rolling at Prentice Rd, just as the big caliber artillery lined up for a sprint shot (Rocket ruled). A chilled roll home with Boof and Kenworth, mentally mapping an August 130 Gran Fondo route.
Week 34. 322km. YTD 10,433km
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