The roll-up to Saturday's lap was predicted to be down on recent crowds, Friday's rain had dampened desire.......and the circuit. There was an icy chill on the grid at 5:55 despite 14 degrees on the guage, but the punters trickled in (The Godfather, Shorty, AvantiTrev, Wozz, Rocket, Cate, Boof, Pistol, BassoDan, Cougar, MeridaAndy, TatPaul, Car+Mel, Trav and Bruce), the bulk arriving in the final minute (to guarantee a tow for the first few k's?) Still, 17 was a workable sized bunch and minus the rubber band effect of the massed mobs of late. Wozz and I were gentle on the throttle on the exit of town, but the sharp snap of "slow" reigned in the speed to wait for some slow coaches. Underway again a few seconds later, I relished the effort to Doyles Rd beside Wozza as the speed silenced the snakey, similar knots with Rocket to Orrvale Rd brought on an external grimace but an internal grin with only the sound of wheels working overtime, Boof then BassoDan providing propulsion as I settled into recovery. 
There was a social sentence or six as fifteen started the rotational rumba, The Godfather and Bruce summoning silence with speed to blur Boundary Rd (so Wozz, Rocket and I aren't the only tempo terrorists) but AvantiTrev soon calmed the cadence as a few weeks off in the Peoples Republic took its toll on velocity in Old Dookie Rd. Wozz and I were back at the pointy end exiting Toaster corner,
the ENEer driving us to the right side to shelter those behind. Rocket and Boof dragged us to Emu corner without delay, the tailwind home expected to summon a squeak on speed. Felines were fractured eastbound as we worked west, the puddles from recent rain sullied bikes and spotted specs. (Ah! now is the winter of our discontent.........), Car+Mel and Cate driving tenacious turns while Shorty and Cougar caboosed to ease an early exit. Rocket stayed considerately level as I wound up what little wattage remained in Wanganui Rd, calling him over as the tank almost emptied unlocked his mission to stretch out the pack. (Boof sucked into the sprint when he'd hoped to save some speed for Sundays' hills). I slipped steadily rearward as the sprinters stepped up to play, finding I'd inherited a string of survivors in tow for Wanganui hill. The burst of bravado over, jaws jabbered the length of the Boulevard to the next best thing to the ride, breakfast and banter at the Lemontree as the ritual ride repose . Red meat, coaching and weird pets occupied conversation, tending to a filthy bike and it's dead worm population the weekend chore. Rule #53 folks. 24/4 Solo soliloquy
Sick of the same old circuits, and in need of a solo to clear the weekend's cobwebs, I pointed east early Monday morning, the long 20k strip of tarmac to tap to Cosgrove in my sights. With rabbits to race and standards to set, rule #6 over-rode the meanderings of the prefrontal cortex as the heartrate did it's steady climb from 120 to 165. I stuck to the spin of 80 rpm feeling a hint of an easterly against me, eventually the lights of Cosgroves gravel alps outlined the catagory two climb (well, 3.7 metres of ascent) to Quarry Rd. South to New Dookie Rd then west back toward town with just two (considerate) cars to contend with, it was down the cassette and up the tempo feeling a breeze behind. The lure of a red led ahead stirred some southbound speed in Boundary Rd, catching and passing a similar soloist (unidentified in the dark). Over the highway and down to River Rd with a stirring sunrise to the left and purring pussycats lights behind, the westerly progress in River Rd was motivated as competition captured the cerebrum. Time was the enemy as I made it over the col du Channel bridge, the need to shorten my lap to stay on schedule forced the usual escape via the truck route and Archer to shortcut home, satisfied to clock sixty before seven.27/4. The temperature test.
The hypertension, the nervous twitch and the colossal cravings were at fever pitch after 70 hours off the bike (rotten rain ruined religious ride recreation) the joy being back aboard the Baum was certainly needed to face the 'feels like 3' Thursday. Phil, Coggo, Dipper, AvantiAndy, Cate, Belly, Tum, Carl, Sandy, Joey, Tina, Hommy, Jen, PrincipalSkinner, AvantiLeigh and Heady arrived at Verney's roundabout for the Thursday therapy, barely 6 degrees with an icy wind testing tenacity. Spread out like Browns' Goats on the open plains of Ford Rd, it took a k to congeal (the tack and jibe through the streets from the old grid gathered Goats good). Well organised by Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, I found myself between Joey and AvantiAndy as the breeze blew southwest through the nether regions. Joey has closed the base layer gap but gaps opened ahead of him, sudden surges of speed to regain a draft caused chaos on consistency and a lot of Fosstration. PrincipalSkinner and Sandy sat in the caboose, plenty now cooking in their winter jackets and thermals as efforts increased fighting the wind into Boundary Rd. Joeys wheel continued to fling back to greet me as he rose to close yet another abyss ahead, my mindful eye keeping a bit more distance as cautionary compensation, but the steady rhythms of Coggo, Tina, Belly, Phil and Carl made amends. Several Goats were in training for the forthcoming Beechworth weekend, Hommy fully fit for the drinking bit! There was bliss on River Rd's 2nd k of table top tarmac on the sheltered side, quite a contrast on the front at the roads' rough edge with the bitter breeze on the brow. But with schedules and jobs to keep, Cate and I bid adieu at Rivers' end to push homeward, a thrash at the lake segment back in town, a fitting finish.
28/4. Hollywood heave-ho's a huge hibernation.
A smiley start to Friday with grinning gals Cate and Mel (-Car) the company to commute to the carpark, Bruce, Grumpy, CatCol, Wozza, BamBam, Ralphy, Pelly, Pistol, Shorty, Nick, Weapon, Nev, AvantiTrev, Rocket, Boof, Trav, Jen, Dalts and hallelujah! Hollywood were fresh for Friday's frivolities. The long thin line of Indians filed south, Hollywood (second ride since November ; 5kg to lose before forthcoming holidays to put on 10!) coming into view on the down line as I joined the up, the windless plains of Archer and Mitchell aiding our pace. Nick and Pelly paired in punctures as we swung into River Rd, a mandatory stop to sledge (and a spot of leg judging with Weapon) while AvantiTrev got his teeth into the pitstop. Repaired and re-rolling, it was all quiet on the eastern front as we made up for lost time, my sole turn at the pointy end was with Shorty beyond the dip, then to let the team tow east, north and west, thanking the cloud cover for keeping the frost away. Into Channel Rd, Dalts and AvantiTrev were sitting out the sprint, so I changed to the upline and won lotto, scoring Nev's nirvana wheel, shortening my odds for a ChaCha placing. BamBam poured on the pace to Kinder corner for Pistol to drive to Hopeful corner, pieces of the podium puzzle falling into place as we reached Prentice Rd. I just mustered enough wattage to stay in Nev's draft, Rocket ripped past but I'd survived for third on the line, fighting for breath on the brakes to call 'car left' at Orrvale Rd 70 metres beyond. And so a short wet week ended with a speedy social spin homeward, hoping to make up the pitstop deficit to reach the timeclock by 7:30.
Week 17: 178km. YTD 4190km
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