30/9 Back & forth.
Boundary Rd was ridden in recovery mode, River road's 6k of cruelty was yet to come! I don't know what sets an internal speed standard but a target keeps the effort effervescent, legs weren't too happy conforming to the cranium by River Rd's bridge but the bonus of a bunch draft kept the wheels humming.Down to Mitchell and across to Archer, I'd reached north to the truck route when the pack cranked into view. It was sweet to be swept up in the sociology and suction of 20 cyclusts after 42k solo, "good morning"s to the crew (Kel, Wozza, Tina, Nev, Rocket, Merida-not-AvantiJohn, The Godfather, Travis, Temple, Liam, PistolPete, Tum, Bruce, TrackStan, AvantiTrev, BamBam, Grumpy, Ralphy and TatMat) as I was promoted by rotation toward the front. The rising sun cooled the air, legs regretably uncovered, but the wind was welcomed up the rear in River. TrackStan was spinning dervishly on the little ring, TatMat poised perfectly, Grumpy breaking in the new Propel (or was the saddle breaking in his bum?), Merida-not-AvantiJohn now laryngitisless, AvantiTrev adverse to advancing to the front, Tina off the back of Buffalo and Rocket reaquainting with riding (3 days off the bike). Traffic reports were stalling half way up the bunch and the caboose role of rear vision forgotten, another pot hole enlarging in Boundary Rd (set to swallow wheels) are all a bit annoying on an otherwise perfect start to the day.
With teeth clenched, heads down and cogs swapping, we were into the breeze on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, lucky me to have 14 wheels ahead to carve through the headwind. ScottMatt arrived from the west then another pot hole claimed the air from Liams tube, the halt for repair a bonus for my backside after 80k. Bunch order was reshuffled on the restart, many now in hiding from the front with the sprint just a few k away. 1800 meters worth of Wanagnui Rd and the wind had whittled down the warriors by DECA, 700 to go and the pooped were popping off the pointy end, Pistol surrendering to TrackStan for the finish line honors. The Boulevard to breakfast stage swiftly silenced the chat, plenty of Strava trophies awarded for "The last Hurrah" to the Lemontree. Other weekend pursuits (I believe a football match was going to take precedence) trimmed the table to a dozen, doctors, finding a climbing rhythm and keeping pace with technology the only interruptions to porridge and a long black or two (compensation for 90k).2/10 A mixed menage.
3/10 Tuesday torture.....love it!
Ralphy's appearance at Tuesday's thrash was almost like the second coming, good 'ol reliable Temple, Cate, KillkennyPaul, HBK, CatCol and Grumpy (oh yeah, Softa made his weekly visit) made 9 to have a fighting chance to hold off the Hares. On auto-pilot to drive the first shift, 4 degrees gripped my lungs to keep turn one modest. It's a long way back to the caboose, but makes a generous recovery time, Grumpy propelling the pace aplenty to the Kinder. Softa assumed the drivers seat as we turned at Jameson Rd, but there began his implosion, by the cypress trees he'd succumbed to speed, turning TNT at Hanlon Rd (and so began that ride of introspection, realisation, castigation, blasphemation and resolution, on the long and lonesome OTA stage home) I had CatCol's wheel of smoothness to the Boundary bridges and was there released to drive to River Rd, the slightest gradient like a mountain when you're close to the limit. Plenty sharing the load meant I had a holiday till Central Kialla, interesting to watch the heart rate step up and up as I got closer to the rushin' front.
4/10 Testicular testing pot-hole policies.
I scored the first shift again for Wednesday, the price you pay for early arrival! That long 3k stretch to the roundabout, a hint of a headwind, the responsibility of pot-hole pointing and Wozza's wattage to match made it a sensory overload.
Speeds varied in River Rd, betwixt Rocket and Troy was well out of my league but they kindly conformed to my sub-standards. That hint of a southerly had the speed swift in Boundary Rd, but the sun yet to rise had hid the crater at One Tree Dam. Ralphy and Trav were the unlucky ones to hit it head on, bursting tubes (and almost anatomy) to put a pause in proceedings. Goats sped southward (Heady on the OTA train a k behind) as we soaked up a super sunrise before the restart. Troy and Pistol pedalled possessed on Channel Rd (so much for the social Wednesday theory), the turns rolling quickly as reality ruined hopes of those to brave the front. Even before the Kinder a swifter standard had been set, Rocket turning the pack to single file as his afterburners flamed toward Hopeful corner. Pistol, The Godfather, Troy and co tucked in for the tow, Rocket then Pistol peeling off pooped at Prentice Rd. I'd lucked a draft behind Troy as the line drew near, my big effort to 50 was no threat as Troy rose from his seat and scorched away to seal the win.
5/10 A dozen dynamos.
I had a warm and fuzzy "Field of Dreams" moment as the grid filled with KillkennyPaul, Cate, Softa, BamBam, Tina, Grumpy, Temple, HBK, Ralphy, Vince and Bruce for the Thursday thrash ; build it and they will come....and they did! It seems obligatory I drive the first turn (ironically the longest), thoughts of that long respite after the shift diverted my distress on the way to Doyles Rd. Catching the last wheel (Grumpy) was a relief, but his dazzling tail-light was enough to trigger epilepsy! There was the odd case of whiplash at the back on corners and intersections as the crew cranked to Boundary Rd, Softa's turn laudible in light of Tuesday's OTA (I was still in the draft on Boundary Rd as Vince unleashed his velocity toward River Rd) Personal pedaling peculiarities made a fascinating study sitting in the tow, each style a cycling signature (and a hint to the hurt in their headspace). Psyched up for my slog at the front in River Rd, Grumpy gave me the elbow at Laws Drive, the prospects of performance pummeled to a pancake within 200 meters (tip; peeking at the Garmin readout is cranial crucifixion!) After 800 meters of masochism, I handed the helm to HBK and collapsed into the caboose gasping. All swapped the suffering to the highway though Softa had snapped off the back at Dave's dip, Ralphy also awol. We'd timed a clean cross of the Melbourne Rd to rip into Raftery's, Temple taking us to Roubaix corner, Grumpy nearly to Galbraiths gate. I'd made it to the horse stud gate to put HBK in charge, the turns shortening rapidly with 3 now in the down line as 7 advanced. Sitting at third wheel, my hopes lifted as Bruce buried himself into Conrod, on and on till his tank ran dry then Grumpy took the reigns. I'd just clicked a cog to attack at the 250 mark when Vince flew by, I had just enough to catch his draft but made no gain. All had crossed the line, most were wrung out and speechless but were basking in the afterglow of a 39.2 average.
6/10 Wind warriors.
The social status swung swiftly speedy with the wind at our flanks in Mitchell Rd, at least the traffic reports from the caboose were filtering forward. Nev threw a blanket of peace on the pace in River Rd when the tempo approached the forties, those emerging from hibernation now standing a chance to stay aboard. I'd timed my lead role perfectly with a tailwind in Boundary Rd, a brief visit to the right lane avoiding the gravel on the freshly repaired Wednesday's crater (hats off to Troy and the VicRoads rapid response team). The caboose had become the popular place half way along Channel Rd as many opted for a cruisy end to the working week, too late for me already stuck in the up line among the quick company of Nev, Bruce and PistolPete.
Into the forties at Hopeful corner, Pistol became the lead out laundry left to dry on the front, Bruce took the drivers seat from him at Prentice Rd but Nev took it up another rung. CatCol had the perfect sit and launched from the draft to take the chocolates, the frantic finish fading quickly to become a social roll home as the day broke orange.
Week 40 269km YTD 10,345km
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