Week 34 : Expectation, castigation or flagellation?

Post 409
19/8  Swallowing the chill pill.

Cadence was the heater for Saturday's commute to the Couldabeens carpark, at last the wind was manageable (a southwester at 9-13 km/h) but the temperature tested at 2 degrees.  Boof, SuperMario, AvantiTrev, Merida-not-AvantiJohn, AvantiAndy, Tina, Jen, Shorty, PistolPete, BigLen, Rocket, Troy, Wozza, TatMat, TatPaul, BassoDan, HBK, Bruce, KillkennyPaual and Temple shunned the wet week for some Saturday sociology, Wozza setting the southern speed on Archer Rd as The Godfather, Kel and Bo joined to make it two dozen.  There were several on a come back as weekend warriors,

AvantiTrev back from Broome, BigLen back from a woebegone winter, SuperMario hibernating with hockey, BassoDan shaking off shiftwork and others just hardening up!  There was a yo-yo of tempo as the fit and the fuzzy fronted the bunch, KillkennyPaul a bit short on the roll-over chopped off Bo, but crisis was avoided with some skill spread around. The southwester kept the speed sizzling up Boundary but Merida-not-AvantiJohn had punctured at Channel Rd.  Half halted at the pub, some heckled at the pitstop (Merida-not-AvantiJohn caught without levers, pump and tube....the Avanti had the advantage of the kit) but HBK, Temple and SuperMario chose to be the reconnaissance riders rolling off ahead.  Finally fixed and fairly freezing, the bunch shivered their way back up to speed, prolific pot-holes a legacy of a wet winter and VicRoads' scrooge on sealing (speed restrictions instead of repairs soon?)

An over populated caboose made less do more on the westward workout to breakfast, many now paying the lax tax keeping up with those dedicated.  Well placed on Ford Rd, I had my shift with Tina and Bo up to Grahamvale Rd and took delight in the draft as Wanganui Rd loomed, Temple and HBK were caught (SuperMario sidetracked swiftly via Verney) while the sprint shuffle started as we slowed for Numurkah Rd.  The Godfather scurried for cover at the transfer station setting off a single file scenario, Merida-not-AvantiJohn hung out to dry on the front as the hopefuls hustled a hiding place.

I'd won the lottery of TatMat's wheel as many turned to toast and popped off the front, Troy and Wozza opening up a gap ahead as I crested Mt Wanganui's summit. The question of pre-ride feed or fast, energy bars and pacing nutrition, the lost art of budgeting and the wet week that was soaked up the sentences over the sustenance, the Lemontree's dark rye a menu mainstream for 20 on the long table.

20/8  Crispy Castlemaine
A weekend escape to central Victoria took in the attractions of Castlemaine by Baum, up hill and down dale in a welcoming minus 3!  7k's of incline was a heart starter to Harcourt, hope on the horizon as light lit the bunnies bounding in the frosted fields.

North on the old Calder highway labored my lungs, froze fingers and aggravated the abnominals for 8k's uphill to Harcourt North, the grape vines and apple groves carpeted in fog as the sun peeked from behind Mt. Alexander.  The reward of a 1k descent to the M79 was a challenging chill, slicing the icy atmosphere at 56 clicks was a bit beyond bracing!  I swung south toward Elphingstone, 4 lanes of M79 a little smoother in the rise and fall, but I was somewhat spooked by guttural groans and gasps on the 3k ascent at Faraday......crikey! it was only flatlander Foss f#&%ed from floggin' uphill!

The chain was clearing the cobwebs off the 23 but the little ring remained unblemished (Rule #90 folks!)  Eventually to the top, there was a frosty frolic down to the Elphingstone exit then a swing north west onto the Pyrenees highway for yet another climb, but ahead was the big prize of 6k's twisting downhill to Chewton to bump up the average.  Numb fingers struggled to shift the cogs and ice was pulling at the whiskers with any grimace, but coffee and toast at Saffs spurred the speed past the old miners cottages, crispy lawns and crusty white cars, the suns' psychological warmth some consolation from the cold.  There was a struggle removing gloves and releasing the helmet catch without the sensation of touch, but a long black and raisin toast thawed things quickly.  

22/8  The rise of the machines
It's the mad mateship and Tuesday's thrash therapy that gets you out of the cot when it's just 1 degree.....is this winter ever going to stop?  Collecting great mate Cate on the commute, we found a good turn-out of Pelly, Temple, Tina, BamBam, Hoges, AvantiTrev and even ChrisA assembled for action at the Archer St launch pad.  Whether it's expectation, castigation or flagellation, I took the first shift to Doyles Rd with a stab in the dark on speed (but I guess there'd be a squeak if it was wrong), spent and speechless by the truck route, I rolled to the rear to draft the derriere of BamBam.  Cate and Tina tore into their turns to Orrvale Rd, AvantiTrev had a crack but was buggered (by beer and Broome?) to join the caboose with Hoges and CatCol (collected at the school).

Temple and Pelly powered east to the S bend where ChrisA towed us to Boundary (months off the bike and bounces back in top form!) BamBam drove to the Broken Bridges where I excavated the energy to reach River Rd, arriving wrung out but hopeful a tow would restore some composure.  Catching the tail, I noticed the caboose was awol, only seven now to slog out the remaining 17 k's and hopefully hold off the Hares.  I dips me helmet to Cate ripping into River Rd after a week off the bike and Tina's 400 a week habit paying dividends in her driving.  Pelly added 10% to the tempo, Temple and BamBam polishing off River Rd which handed me the southern strip at Kialla Central to crank.  A ripper rhythm blurred Mitchell Rd by, and a well timed cross of Melbourne Rd put Pelly in the drivers seat to Roubaix, but Temple elected to be caboose captain leaving BamBam to drag us to Galbriath's gate (but I got the elbow 200 meters early).   Almost ready to finish my shift at Arcadia Downs, ChrisA came up to offer a tow, I just managed to find the spin (86 rpm) to hold his wheel.  Chris was toast as we crested the Conrod dip, my turn again (driven by kudos from the crew) provided the boost till Pelly (Captain Competitive) pounced at the 200 meter mark for the win.  With laboring lungs we were suddenly joined by Hares huffing, we'd pipped them at the post by a poofteenth!  

23/8  Sublimely sexigesimal

Day 21,915 on the planet felt no different, though it's a long way from the 102 kg smoker of 35 a day I remember in the mirror about 12 years ago.  Wednesday's get together had dragged out the historic hibernators WhisperingJack, Nick, Jase and SuperMario along with the dedicated Wozza, Rocket, Mel, Cate, Nev, Trav, Boof, Kel, Bo, The Godfather, Shorty, Troy, PistolPete, AvantiTrev and CatCol filling the carpark.  Weapon attached to a capacity caboose as the long train speared south, with a shielded shoulder Nev braved turns aboard the MTB, Mel did her bit despite time off two wheels, CatCol keeps cranking and even AvantiTrev worked the wheezy end (after an OTA yesterday) but WhisperingJack, Trav, Nick and SuperMario were taxed to the max from adherent absence. I'd found myself between AvantiTrev and Bo to get my first turn done by River Rd's dip, a view of grey clouds and a pinch of pink in the sky as first light teased Springs' arrival. 4 degrees felt mild (my, how winter has toughened us) and calm conditions were as rare as a sighting of Hollywood, I spied a small gaggle of Goats southbound in Boundary as we journeyed north.  Plenty were parking posteriors in the rear seats on Channel Rd, only 7 now swapping turns from the S bend.  Still Nev monstered the MTB and CatCol kept up the cadence, hats off to Shorty at the pointy end as we closed in on the Kinder.  The bunch front turned skinny as we veered into Hopeful corner, Nev, unable to coax more from the dirt beast, tucked in behind CatCol.  I waited till Prentice Rd before hitting the accelerator, pouring all into the pace (I thought for a moment this was a birthday treat) till Boof, Troy and Pistol powered past with a 100 to go.  Humbled but happy, the roll home turned to toil with Pistol's power unabated.

24/8  Hare conditioner
Shunning the cranial pessimists in Thursdays' early hours, I fueled the tank and layered the lycra for 3 degrees and a hare-raising average speed, this oughta condition Foss's foolish feelings of fitness and flippancy!  A sizeable turn-up (Wozza, Boof, Bruce, Cate, Rocket, CatCol, Kel, Bo, Tina, Trav, AvantiTrev, Pelly, KillkennyPaul and Softa) promised plenty of recovery between turns, the 'ol grid position shuffle happening as some chose their wheel of choice in the countdown to blast off.  Bruce and I found ourselves fronting the bunch into Channel Rd, Bruce suggesting 34 would preserve some decorum (but he added an undisclosed GST to tax me).  Into rehab as Wozz, Boof and Rocket stepped up to suffer, I threaded the thin line between the ChaCha puddles in recovery, but KillkennyPaul called me across at the Kinder to serve another shift.  So it was 5 engines pulling 10 carriages as I paired with Rocket (formidable but fair) at the cypress trees till my coronary claxton called a shorter shift, Bo then breaking the bonds of the caboose to finally crank contributions at the rushin' front.  With the wind at the starboard side, Boof and Rocket attacked Boundary Rd, but 3 oncoming trucks and their draft blustered us backwards at the bridges.  It was the straw that broke this camels' back, mentally mortified and resigned to retreat from driving duties after one last turn to One Tree Dam.  Wozz, Rocket, Boof, Bruce and Bo threw themselves at a sacrificial speed into River Rd's headwind as silence (and suffering) gripped all the freeloaders behind, Softa and I acting as gatekeepers (though he left little room for the roll-over).   Wozza wisely called Indian file at the dip, a shuffle in the order thinned the pack to minimise the damage.  With a k left of River Rd, Softa had unwittingly joined the drivers, his promotion forward was like watching a fuse burn till the bang as we accelerated into Central Kialla.  Rocket and I picked up the bits broken off the back and gradually stuck it back on the train, full steam down to Mitchell then into the wind again at a punishing pace. My heart rate and lungs had finally dropped below the red line but the legs would give no more, just hang on and don't let the line fracture, the reliance of 9 behind weighing heavily.  A slow for the highway traffic and a ramp up to Roubaix sent Softa OTA, but on and on the fearless five flogged out turns of torture till Bruce threw in the towel with 500 left of Conrod.  Rocket had the most to the post, all now delighted to slow and lap up the 38 average.

25/8  The Friday friendly
It was a refreshing change to berth midfield for the Friday friendly as Jen, Merida-not-AvantiJohn, PistolPete, Boof, Shorty, Kenworth, AvantiTrev, Mel, Cate, Ralphy, BamBam, Bruce and Weapon congregated for the Couldabeens cruise.  Merida-not-AvantiJohn tore into Archer Rd like it was thrash Thursday, prompting many to sit back in social mode, reluctant to form the up line.

Bruce, Boof and Cate broke the  3 degree ice (almost literally) to get the turns rolling, that horizon hope of daylight inspiring others to join in.  A slight southwester chilled the bones but heated the tempo as we swung north from Mitchell Rd, another UFO whacking wheels at Central Kialla.
Weapon was the days victim, all pausing for a puncture pitstop in River Rd, AvantiTrev assuming his role of team mechanic to fasten the fix.  Resuming the ride with CatCol now abaord, Merida-not-AvantiJohn resumed his rate of knots and paired with PistolPete, kept heads down and tails up toward Boundary Rd, but there'd be a majority to calm the cadence as others took turns.  Another scenic sun up blessed Boundary Rd, Mel aboard a new Avanti (birthday bike) soaking up the smoothness.  The never ending winter is suppressing sprint stimulation, many long time addicts now electing to sit out the speed splurge (but we'll see an epidemic I'll bet when the warmth, sun and the hibernators make an appearance again.)

The pace gradually grew and the turns shortened as we whistled past the cypress trees, by the Kinder it was rolling turns as the sentences stopped and gasps grew.  The bunch front slimmed at Hopeful corner and body languages spoke of impending implosion at Prentice Rd, chosing which wheel to follow a skill of translating which bubble's 'bout to burst.  Boof of course was victorious, leading a line of exhausted expirees through the left right at Orrvale Rd, a chatty tap back to town with the delight of quaffing coffee with the ladies of the peloton mine to savour.

Week 34       248 km                    YTD  8,509 km