Week 44 : Reading the rump the riot act.

Post 419
28/10  The Tat tap.

Half a millimeter of rain at 5:45 dampened the morning, but a little mood music (Karnivool's "Goliath" and QOTSA's "Sick sick sick") mustered my motivation enroute to the Tatura 200.  All those training k's and the entry fee wasn't going to waste!
A crew of Couldabeens (CatCol, TatPaul, BassoDan, Tina, The Godfather, Kel, Bo, Jen, Boof, Cate, Car and Ralphy) converged to tackle the long one (Lucy & Lenny taking on the 100), flagged away with plenty of others for leg 1 on a damp track to Toolamba.  With a tailwind out of town, the bunch soon got into a rhythm ('lil Tony and Indi in the drivers seat) quickly sifting out the rarely's from the regulars.

Down Dhurringile Rd and across to Toolamba, the 30 odd pack sorted the speed and the social sentences, but the old bridge forced a dismount as it's plank gaps would easily swallow a wheel (so why was it stripped of it's tarmac?) Remounting, I had a long chase with a few in tow to catch the pack ('cause the front forgot the tail) , a k at 38 needed to reach them just in time for a quick cross of the highway.  Union Rd pounded the posterior but the smoothness soothed on Central Kialla (though the headwind harried).  Bo put on the morning entertainment with a spill at the turn into Mitchell Rd, a slippery surface taking his wheel from under him, and a bit of bark off the elbow.  With just a dent in his pride (but fueling his conversation for the day) we resumed east to Boundary Rd, passing advance notice of a Pine Lodge pit stop to the crew.  A northeast gust caught me at the fig farm, up close and a bit too personal with ARC's Gordon, but we remained upright and on friendly terms.  With bladders emptied and bottles filled at the church, the bunch steered west toward Shepparton, a breeze behind dissipating distress previously felt from the northeaster.

I missed ARCGordon's whisper of 'puncture' and found myself being herded toward the tabledrain in Ford Rd, disaster diverted with a yank on the brakes.  It was strange to climb Mt. Wanganui without a sprint (but I claimed equal third with The Godfather, just for the record!), the pack then threading its way through the streets to find the bike track to Mooroopna.  Chase time again for the rearmost as traffic lights threatened to split the bunch, the scenario of working solo with the wind whipping the wheels, the script of a horror movie. A great drive by CatCol got the last three back to the tail, so it was on to Ardmona then zig zagging toward Tatura.  The town limit injected velocity into the 100 k'ers and the youthful, my target and trophy was lunch, liquid and loo.

Starting part 2 called on the reserves of determination though sharing the workload with 20 others made it far less onerous.  Back to Ardmona, a series of lefts and rights to Mooroopna, then the long 30k drive to Murchison, but a bonus north northeaster to propel the pack (this time last year I had a solo chase into a howling south wester!)

Enthusiasm at the front pumped up the pace to the 40's but many now shied away from doing a turn.  I could feel the mood shifting from stoked to stressed, my suggestion of 37ish (to keep the workforce large and laughing) finding favor.  The co-ordinated crank drew Murchison closer (and scored many Strava success), a brief halt for cold cola to fuel our drive to Rushworth (but minus the rush).  A spit or three from the heavens, the aroma of dead 'roos by the roadside and an uphill and down dale chipped away the k's as the breeze swung to a NNW'er, beside young Byron paired oldest and youngest to reach town.  Uphill to the cemetery then downhill to the Basin, 'lilTony and Indi captained the crew, bums off seats the preferred past-time as distance made its mark.  Chatty distractions with Clive, Jodie and TatJohn helped on the long tap to Tat, mindful that concentration was now as low as our energy levels.  At last Tatura appeared, the sprint for town limit honors was somewhat half hearted, but my OCD needed to circle the streets with the Garmin showing only 196.7.

A couple of blocks and back under the chute, 200 was done and dusted in 6:02:00 (27 Strava trophies, 10 PR's and a 298 suffer score) .....and now it was beer o'clock with the crew! A great testament to teamwork, a great effort by all the guys and gals (Car, Jen, Kel and Cate clocking their first double century), and brilliant work by the Tat200 crew, caterers and motorbike pilots.

29/10  The hair of the dog.
I selected a quiet solo circuit Sunday to cure the rigormortis from yesterdays distance, like a hangover, a little of what was excess yesterday may be the cure.   A bit tender in the legs and a rump glowing like a Fukashima reactor, I set off gingerly to rid the legs of ride rust and nurse the old engine round for a caffeine tune up after.

An overnight 10mm downpour fogged the fields and glossed the road, the Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd sun-up setting a scenic sight to snap.  Free your mind and your legs will follow is the Rule #6 edict, so avoiding eyes from the Garmin data and tuning into the music of the Michelins, I tapped away, if only to read the rump the riot act of Rule #5.  Down Boundary and along Channel was judged enough, a few bikes now escaping town in search of warmth and sunshine.  Parked at peace with a Lemontree long black, quiet contemplation on teamwork and future goals eased me into the day.

30/10 Legs like lead, a clean bike, an ADO and a sinister radar equalled a sleep-in Monday, seems most other cyclusts ["sai'clust" : noun ; A person having a deep craving or appetite for riding bicycles] laid lazy likewise.

31/10  5 to drive at 5:45

Winters wardrobe was back in fashion Tuesday, feels like 2.6 degrees rewound memories to mid July!  There were slim grid pickings with only Cate, Pelly, KillkennyPaul and Softa arriving at the carpark.  Doubts that distance had worn away my wattage was unfounded as my speed climbed to the high 30's on leg 1, though I was more than keen to donate the drivers seat to Cate at the truck route.  1100 meters to Orrvale Rd, 1300 meters to the Kinder, 1100 meters to Jameson Rd, 1000 meters to Beckham Rd.......and it was my turn again, happy the old engine ran ok to Boundary Rd.  Progress was pacy considering the tiny turn-out, past the foggy fields at One Tree Dam and down to River Rd.  Turns varied a whisker in speed and length but all put in their best effort despite the Hares inevitably hunting us down.  All had done a shift to reach Central Kialla,  a long line of lights a distance behind putting the pressure on our pace.  We were rounded up at Archer Rd, KillkennyPaul trying valiantly to catch the Hares draft but the velocity of 9 was a big ask for us ragged 5 to catch.  Happy to keep the quintet, we soldiered on to the highway, Softa taking us to Roubaix and handed me the reigns.  Still in reasonable tune, I drove to Arcadia Downs to lend the crew some recovery, KillkennyPaul now recharged to charge the finish line.  

1/11   Two tribes ride.

The popularity of Wednesday's social spin continues, the carpark filling with Chops, Kenworth, Sean, Goose, Car+Mel, SuperMario, MyRideTrev, AvantiAndy, Tum, Cate, PistolPete, Nev, Boof, GTCraig, Nick, Tina, The Godfather, Nath, CatCol, KillkennyPaul and Jen.  Nath and Nev pulled the long line out of town, as volunteers vanished to start an up-line I switched to h.t.f.u. mode to face the front with Nev.  Boof made part 2 to the truck route equally energetic, I could only muster two word replies to his long sentences.

The early tribe (Wozza, Troy, BamBam, Kel, Rocket, Bo, Trav) arrived as we neared Mitchell Rd, the burden of the SSW'er now done, chat could commence.  Turns rolled as we rode toward River, some in the chat tribe, others in the tribe of flat chat.  Reminising with the tough Tat 200'ers on preparation, perspiration and post hydration, I copped kind Car comments for my motivation and the training k's.  (Aww, shucks Car, a pleasure to play a small part in someones strive for success)  51 and the Cats were in usual pursuit but it seems the Coggo-less Goat train o' pain has all but dissolved.  Finally to the back of the bunch in Channel Rd, the front was on a distant horizon (a head count impossible), but how the turns rolled as the Kinder drew near!  Gears changed up and chat went down as 30 hurtled to Hopeful corner, confidence grew with the speed as I rounded Nev to hit the front, no-one beside me, legs limbered and the finish line begging.  But Boof, Troy and CatCol evaporated my ego bolting past as if I stood still, ye olde determination salvaging 4th as some sort of restitution.

2/11  Like a lizard drinkin'.

Motivating more to the Thursday thrash only added BamBam and Tum to the tough team of Cate, Tina, Hamish and Killkenny Paul. (seems Ralphy, Softa, HBK, Grumpy et al have sunk to the slumber squad, snoozing their speed away)  Taking the first turn is less of a testing task, maybe the fitness flourishes?, could the rise in cadence (+ 6 rpm) contribute?, or was the breeze up the bum boosting the ego?  Whatever the reason, whosoever sits in the drivers seat sets the speed! It was a bonus to have Tum along (on loan from the  Goat pain train, in a Coggo-less recess), Tina, Cate, KillkennyPaul, BamBam and Hamish contributing to get us to Boundary Rd.  A little SSW'er put sweat into the suffering as I drove to the Broken bridges, the gust from an oncoming truck an trailer punishing the progress.  Tum and Tina polished off Boundary Rd, the work west on River Rd promoting me up the ranks (a bit too quickly) for turn 3.

Hamish gave me the front seat at the dip, the speed was sprightly to the bridge but breakfast wanted to make its return 100 meters later, so I called a long turn quits.  All were inspired to reach Archer Rd un-hounded by Hares, meant we'd been close to flat out like a lizard drinking.  I took it to Roubaix corner and handed Tum the drivers seat, but he quickly called for calm as a 'roo threatened to hop aboard.  With Skippy safely out of the way, we resumed the pace to Galbraiths Gate, my glance back finding the Hares close to consuming us.  BamBam captained our little train to Arcadia Downs and caught the Hares tail as they passed, everyone finding that extra effort (from somewhere) to stay in the draft for Conrod's length to finish.

3/11  Missed it by that much!

A roll around the block averted that front of grid syndrome, tucked in at the back of the bunch for Friday's lap was a sweet start.  Kenworth, Goose, CatCol, MyRideTrev, PaulVanP, Boof, PistolPete, SuperMario, Car+Mel, Shorty, Hamish and BamBam set south, cruising in the caboose to the truck stop soon got me guilty, so I joined Goose to forge forward.  Early lappers Kel, Rocket, Trav, Bruce, Bo and Troy had caught the tail, the bunch now settling into the standards of the social spin.

Sledges were swapped with '51 and the Cats as our paths crossed in River Rd, a painless train of tame Goats substituting the speedy one normally seen on a Friday.  Right at the rear as the bunch cranked into Kinder corner couldn't have been a better berth, most of the big engines were at the front and I was hoping they'd run out of wattage early.  Giving Kylie, Fee and Princess ahead a wide berth,  Boof primed the pace with a lushious lead-out, I rose from the Fizik, crucifying the cranks, and got around Paul VanP but 53 clicks could only get half a wheel from CatCol's choice of the ChaCha chocolates.

Week 44 :      390 km                 YTD 11,609 km