Week 4 : Setting the standard of suffering

Post 432
20/1  Saturday's slim squad.

A week of repetitious 40 k rides prompted a longer lap Saturday, a little "legucation" on distance to break the usual lap habit.  North on a golf course circuit then a southern loop of Raftery Rd consumed an hour (and the k's) prior to the standard Saturday syllabus.  Popgun had made an early escape, but Trav, Tina, NewAvantiJohn, MyRideTrev, TatMat, TatPaul, The Godfather, Nick, Liam, Softa and BamBam collected at the carpark for the 6am launch.  NewAvantiJohn tapped a testy tempo to the roundabout, but it soon settled into a steady speed suiting sociology.
Promotion to the pointy end proved presumptuous, a pacy pairing with young Liam dragged me out of a social slumber and into the deep end of driving rather rapidly.  Satisfied I'd put in a fair turn with the young engine 1500 later, I handed over for BamBam to prove his worth.  Tina sat out the lap in the rear ranks after an epic effort climbing Tawonga and Falls Creek, TatMat was soaking up the last few days of leave, Softa made his once-a-week appearance and I talked T-birds with The Godfather.

The bunch had caught Popgun (no partner for the reconnoiter?), we steered east to the Toaster and north to the Big Ring, crossing paths with a petite peloton of Pussycats peculiarly plying their way to Dookie.
A favourable breeze back to town boosted bravado (and the velocity), 18k's covered without much ado. 
Onto Wanganui Rd, Softa's speed stuttered to reach the front as BamBam bolted in the drivers seat at DECA, The Godfather and Trav stepped up to the sprint but young Liam made it look easy to draw away for a convincing win.  Chat at a rather short Lemontree table was on post crash recovery, cooling feet, relaxing on the bike and going beyond the boundaries.

22/1  The heart rate handicap.
Removed from the shelter of a bunch, a solo circuit Monday would satisfy Rule #5 and study the science of pacing oneself.  Rolled out the Boulevard, climbed the dizzying heights of the Col du Cemetery (1.9 meters), past the golf course and pointed east, I focussed on a steady rhythm to go the distance.  The head wanted faster, the legs would get over it but I was handicapped with the heart rate hovering at 160.  (too easy to send it into the red) Beyond the Big Ring I set the quarry as an extension of effort, slight speed variations helping to keep the cardiac calm.

The turn back toward town found a niggling WSW'er, glued to 84 rpm preserved a reasonable speed.
South at the church and down to the Toaster, a bit more head down and tail up got to Boundary Rd to slip in between the travels of Cats and Goats.  The sun hopped above the horizon at 6:25 as I steered into River Rd (Sean and Chops seperately speeding east), ignoring distant lights behind me as I kept control of cardiac crescendo's.  To Central Kialla then west on Mitchell, I'd  just scored a clean cross of the highway as Grumpy, Pelly and BamBam caught me for the Raftery return.  Pace picked up 20% but I had a welcome tow to Galbraiths Gate, paying the toll of a turn burned the legs so mine was a short shift after 60k's of zone 4.  Pelly and Grumpy got excited at the sight of Conrod straight, but I was satisfied to just roll to the finish.

23/1  I'll have what Bruce had for breakfast!
Flat out like a lizard drinking to the carpark Thursday, slow on the saddle-up and time my enemy catching every traffic light en-route. The heart rate was hasty arriving at the grid with 10 spare seconds, Bruce, Vince, Ralphy, Trav, BamBam and Grumpy setting sail on Channel Rd.  A SSW'er did it's best to stifle speed, Trav copped the toil but I'd avoided the head-on sections and a mostly shielded shift from the cypress trees to the S bend.

Vince and Bruce tore into Boundary Rd's headwind possessed with pace, that urge to bury yourself under the seat post ahead for maximum draft was strong, but last Thursday's horizontal outcome made it a wiser and safer sit. Trav handed me the reigns for River Rd's second kilometer, my favorite stretch of tarmac (as smooth as Wozza's head), though VicRoads will probably resurface it in coarse 20mm stone now that I've said that!  Driving duty went well (almost to the dip) though the relief to catch the last wheel was better, hoping recovery came before the next turn.  Bruce belted into the breeze at Central Kialla, I'll have what he had for breakfast! (turbo toast or was it quick oats?).  My turn three was a bit shorter (to Archer Rd), Ralphy driving into Dave's dip but dying up it.  Trav's tempo suited me well, the perfect pace not to pickle me prior to taking up the drivers seat.  He handed the helm to me at Conrod's kink, and using the dip to get into the mid 40's, I sank all into the speed till the legs resigned.  With nothing left to catch the last wheel, it was ostensibly OTA for me, though I wound up towing Ralphy to the line, then joined the other gaspers to gloat our average speed.

24/1  A cast from fast to last.
I had a calm and cruisy commute to the carpark on Wednesday now that I'd got my time management right, griding comfortably at 4th spot behind Tum, Tina and Liam at the shops' car park.

The field filled for the mid week social spin, Tum and Liam leading the southbound charge out of town.  I shared the head wind with Trav to the truck route, NewAvantiJohn turning up the hurt to Mitchell Rd, but the convalescence in the down-line was delicious, thanks to a the soothing southwester.  Bunch identity was now possible as the turns rolled, BamBam, Sean, MyRideTrev, AvantiAndy, Kenworth, Jen, Nick, Chops, Lucy, Boof, Ralphy and (good grief!) Gazzagrasshopper from the jaws of extinction.

There was chat on speed, hibernation, resolutions and peloton positioning as I made my way back to the back, two long lines turned north then east toward Boundary Rd, Hurt Locker making another appearance.  Doc Paul's cruisy crew wheeled west (pursuing pussycats poised to pounce) as we headed to the rising sun (on cue at 6:25) then noses north on Boundary Rd.  Tommygun joined in from a clockwise crank, Brother Andrew the sole Goat sailing south.

Channel Rd blessed us with shelter from the SSW'er, the speed steadily simmering to the cypress trees, cue Trav and I to the leading roles.  Rolls turned quickly to Central Ave, happy I was tucked into a tow before the kick at the Kinder.  Sean was reluctantly in the hot seat to Hopeful corner, the rapidly ranked swarming in the mid field planning their pounce.  I was back to the back by Prentice Rd, NewAvantiJohn jumped the queue but had peaked in pace.  Passing the pickled in the closing meters, I had just enough to grab third as Boof and Tum claimed the top two.



25/1  And then there were seven.
A little loop via Kialla Lakes avoided an early berth, time used to tune-up the legs in preparation for perspiration on Thursday's thrash.  Bruce, Nev, Rocket, Boof, Trav, Grumpy and NewAvantiJohn congregated in the carpark till take-off time, leg one a little lethargic waiting for Nev (who was waiting for someone unbeknowns).  Down to business beyond the roundabout, NewAvantiJohn set the standard of suffering, a minutes' worth of masochism at the front seeming to suit all.  It was my turn at the Kinder to slog 700 meters, but I kept the reserve tank ready to catch the caboose.  Rocket, Nev and Boof dished out the pain on longer turns, tucked into Trav's tow was the perfect position for me.  Duty called again at One Tree Dam, 50mm of Mavic's helping this old engine nearly make it to River Rd, then off the Fizik and pounding the pedals to grab the draft as Nev turned up the tempo.

I had a cranial combat between signals of suffering from legs & lungs, and the sheer stubborness to continue (if only for the kudos!) Trav had taken a brief respite at the rear and Grumpy's shifts had shortened, so Foss was fairing fairly well, my last 800 meters of River Rd driven by a sliver of satisfaction I was doing ok in quick company.  The digging got deeper to find NewAvantiJohn's and Bruce's pace at Central Kialla, back to the business end I went for 500 meters to the highway.  Trav and NewAvantiJohn had taken up permanent rear residence, Grumpy was now missing in action so I chose the "hurting-hanging-on" option for Raftery Rd while Boof, Nev, Rocket and Bruce kept pouring on the pace from some supersonic source (Adelaide ales?)   Boof had the legs for the culmination in Conrod, I'd rolled in second last but a happy little Vegemite with a PB and a 41.6 average.

26/1  A Hotham hiatus.

Murder in the mountains was hardly a patriotic pastime on Australia Day, but the three peaks countdown is measured in weeks now! The Harrietville start line robbed me of a warm up, just 700 meters of flat before the tarmac pointed upward and I re-aquainted with my mate of 38 teeth.  A gradient none too gruelling for the first 5 k's helped to harness the heart-rate, but the climbing cyclist (handy how-to's of hills for the first timers) had warned of "The Meg" at km 6, a nasty 9% section to awaken the masochist in me.  400 meters later it levelled out to a more manageable  6-7 %, the long snaking slope consistently upward got the cardiac in control again, even a fairly flat section along the ridgeline rewarded a reprieve.
Just when I got into a comfort zone Buckland Gate arrived, another off-the-Fizik-flog-fest just to maintain momentum.  Greatful it was a short suffering (400 meters) the road resumed its regular rise.  On and on the black strip wound its way upward, bare trees now the normal at the snow line.  Over a little crest and there lay CRB hill, designed by a sadist to crucify cyclists (10% for 1200 meters was cruelty to climbers), though there was satisfaction passing a lot of (more junior) entrants in the Audax event underway on the day.

Unseated, driving the 38/25 at 180 bpm, flies swarming (and that growling bear chasing me) tested the endurance, but at last the crest at Rene's lookout came. There was a short downhill as repose, then on across the bare ridge to Little Baldy (dodging the rock falls) with a panorama of peaks to perv at below. The 3k's to the summit sign was inspiring but the legs were close to calling a stop work meeting after 1400 meters of 9% to Diamantina.

Soon enough, the road dipped down, and there lay the oasis of Hotham heights village, all that toil had turned to trophy. I took a brief halt to put a muffin in the tank, finding another Corretto racked at the cafe (what are the odds?), an obligatory pic for posterity then swung the leg over for the 30 km descent.    A careful first few kilometers avoided the rocks strewn on the left lane, then the long downhill lefts and rights, the sharp drop of CRB hill, all those sweeping bends down to Buckland Gate (mindful of the sharpish 30 km/h curves) and the rush down The Meg.  Almost overshooting the hairpin steered some sense back into my descent, so soon back to Harrietville finished the fun.

Week 4    329 km             YTD : 1181 km
  

Week 3 : That gut-wrenching grind of carbon on tarmac

Post 431
13/1  United Socialists Saturday Ride.

With ginger gastroch's and rubber rectus femorus, I had a tender tap to the weekend's ritual of the Couldabeens and it's Saturday circuit, the morning after mountains would test me, but it's therapy to teach legs the lesson of rule #5, despite what the head says.  TrekTrev, Sean, Tina, Cate, MyRideTrev, Liam, PistolPete , Nev, TatMat, TatPaul, Shorty, Kel, Bo, Vince and NewAvantiJohn combined to crank two rows southbound to Mitchell, collecting the early edition (SuperMario, Rocket, The Godfather and Trav)  I had a struggle to stay aboard initially, but the sting soon subsided as I soaked up the social side, plenty of westerly pushing the pace to Central Kialla and along River Rd to Boundary. Safely ensconced between Cate and Shorty (who pair not pummel), yesterdays hillness (noun; An impairment of normal physiological function, characterised by polka dotted vision, often aggravated by riding ascents, cols and monts) had all but faded from my mountain memory as Nath filtered into the fold , the odd puddle lined up for those who'd just cleaned their bikes.

 On the fashion front, Kel's cute kit is class couture, Liam was in team livery (many covetting the stylish socks) TatMat true to his tasty attire and Pistol was perfectly presented (as always).  Some still suffer kit confusion though, Rule #17 & #18 as homework homies!

Crossing courses with the Cats (at the Big Ring) found another had jumped to the feline ship (our gain, their loss) but Car+Mel are missed masses. Pointed into the breeze on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd rolled the turns a little faster, though I was surprised to keep a respectable pace while paired at the pointy end with Shorty.  Happier to get back into the draft as 21 others took their turns, there was only the sting of the sprint to psych up for now.  Rockets' arrival at the front at Wanganui's treatment plant sent the pack scurrying single file, by the test track he'd been used up and discarded as the short shift specialists sprinted to the hill.

A roll on the Boulevard back to base camp for breakfast, chat recalled foundation Couldabeens, hidden toxicity and hurt in the hills.

15/1  He likes to move it move it!

I don't think a day off the bike did me much good, ye olde engine struggled just commuting into a headwind to Monday's lap.  CatCol, Goose, WhisperingJack, SuperMario, Cate, PistolPete, Tina, NewAvantiJohn, Kel and Bo lined up in the carpark, I'd tucked in behind Goose but he shuffled the deck, sneaking to the back before the flag fell. NewAvantiJohn saved me the first slog and took the helm out Channel Rd, up and up the cruising speed went to remind the legs of the weeks' expectations.

A standard breeze from behind in Boundary Rd was helpful to pair with Tina at the front, NewAvantiJohn my next partner in pace, but he likes to move it move it! Wrecked by the rail line, NewAvantiJohn did save me by rolling over, into the comfort of a tow again hoping others would shoulder the load to Rudd Rd before I had another grizzle at the work on the front.  Bo being boisterous, took the charge to Wanganui hill, a token gesture at a sprint but enough to loosen limbs. A Lemontree target was set, but time turned me home minus the coffee.

16/1  Cautiously cruisy.

The factions formed for Tuesday, Hares, Machines and Turtles combined for a collaborative cruise as a farewell to the many headed for the TDU.  Lucy, Nev, Kel, Boof, Pistol, Cate, BeerMat, Tina, Bo, Travis, Liam, Shorty, Pat, Cougar, MyRideTrev, Nick and BamBam made up the train to head east on Channel Rd, cautiously captained by Kel and I.  BeerMat was misfiring at 35 to reach the drivers seat, so it was off the gas in the interest of keeping the party together.

And so the speed yo yo'd depending on faction fitness at the front, Vince then WhisperingJack, Goose and Archie (not the foggiest where he came from) blending into the bunch.   Without the stress of speed, things turned social, many anxiously anticipating Adelaide (BeerMat primed for the brewery but not as ready for the ride), some lax on line and variable on velocity were given a wider berth.

We  got all the way to Mitchell Rd before I had another drive of duty, keeping up with Kel causes cardiac convulsions but BeerMat was busting a boiler to get within a bike length of her at the front. Bo saved the BeerMat bacon assuming the drivers seat, up from Dave's dip and up to the highway for a clean cross.  Bits had busted off the back as the pace got percolating, I'd fluked a prime peloton position (fourth wheel with 500 left) as the velocity got serious on Conrod straight, but Boof, Bo and Nev were lurking behind.  Into the 50's as I launched with 300 to go, all looked promising till the Boof and Nev shadows grew larger behind me, I was relegated to 3rd rather rapidly, but pleased I'd made 'em chase.

17/1  The toil train
Down memory lane to join the Goat pain train on Wednesday, fronting at Friars to join Tum, Carl, Cate, NewAvantiJohn and AvantiLeigh for old time (and toil) sake.  Although captain-less without Coggo, the passion (and most of the pace) is still there.
Six single filed out of town, Tum setting the speed, but I need to get him on the holandaise and camembert diet, he's like drafting a matchstick (but goes like a kilo of prunes!)  Carl had lost a little of his former kick (blame that on a gorgeous girlfriend!), Cate cranks cracking turns and NewAvantiJohn turns up the torque, I was just trying to zone in on some form of rhythm but a hectic heart rate, lagging lungs and thuffering thighs weren't helping.  AvantiLeigh captained the caboose (sparing the spinal spasms), the tarmac blurred under my Michelins on Boundary Rd as I mentally prepared for turn two at the fig farm, just able to reach the channel bridge before the defeatist cued my elbow.

Another shift was due at the Broken bridges, the focus fuzzy with three white posts to go till River Rd.  I got some cardiac compensation as Cate, NewAvantiJohn, Carl and Tum took turns at the torment end, another shift for me at Laws Drive and again at Archer Rd to reach the highway.  We were all well ranked to put in turns at 40, though repeated efforts were shortening appearances at the front. I had the duty from Arcadia Downs to Conrod straight, New AvantiJohn hitting the boost button out of the first dip dislodging Cate and AvantiLeigh off the back, but there were many empty tanks as the finish line fronted, all rolling a speechless recovery to the skinny bridge (39.2 a fair average for five drivers).

18/1 It's a fine line between pleasure and pain.
A rally to ride only attracted Tum and Cate to the carpark on Thursday, but as 5:45 ticked closer Liam, ChrisA, Nick and TrekTrev arrived, expecting a 5:50 crank?   Lucy joined as we steered a single file line into Channel Rd, so I set a principal on pace to Mozart Ave to crush cravings for a cruise.

Isn't that first Garmin glance inspiring when your speed is way better than expected......now the battle to maintain it!  Seems most others were like minded moving toward Boundary Rd though Nick and TrekTrev had grown accustomed to the caboose.  My second grind at the gasping end came up from Channel Rd to the Broken bridges, happy to hand over the huff and puff to Cate and sit back on Sir Super Smooth's wheel. (ChrisA)   Liam showed us how it's done, a three and a half k drive on River Rd unwavering at 41, and made it look easy!  Turn three for me (from Laws Drive) kept setting a further target, one more white post, one more white post (150 meters apart) till the legs sent obscenities to the pre frontal cortex.  TrackStan joined the crew, meaning a minute or two more recovery for the drivers as we pressed on toward Dave's dip.  Traffic set us a spell at the highway, the oxygen overload orgasmic.  Rapidly rounding Roubaix, a tiny ripple in the rhythm magnified down the line, a split second of soft pedal and I felt a sickening rub of a tyre on my back wheel, that gut-wrenching grind of carbon on tarmac a blink later.  Cate had hit the deck at 11.6 meters per second, taking bark off knees, elbow and shoulder and writing off a helmet (cheap insurance for a head).  Naturally all halted to assist, her ambulance ride to town would win the sprint. Tum and his Kate couriered the bike home, the remaining riders rolling reflectively homeward ;  how close we all are to horizontal hurtling around just centimeters apart.

After dressing of wounds, x ray and a CT scan, Cate got off lucky with just a few stitches. Not sure if the bike was that tough.

19/1  A paltry peloton.
The Tour Down Under has poached our population (Kel, Rocket, PistolPete, Bo, CatCol, Shorty, Boof, SuperMario, BeerMat etc absconding to Adelaide) , just a paltry peloton (Nick, Kenworth, Trav, TrekTrev, Lucy, MyRideTrev, The Godfather, BamBam, NewAvantiJohn, Sean and Pelly) parking at the shop for the 6am friendly.

TrekTrev led the charge south, I paired with him at the city limits then partnered NewAvantiJohn to the truck route, and not an early edition to be found!  Grunts and groans at an easterly on Mitchell Rd told me I'd escaped the effort of a headwind with my early turn.

We had a rare sighting of the Hurt Locker train in River Rd, leading the charge (or chug) of several bunches lapping up the tail wind, the quick, the Cats and the cruisers all gifted with the Godfathers guffaws as we worked west.  Tommygun had climbed aboard and coveted the caboose, I'd reached the front for the last k of River Rd, unsure what all the huff & puff was about from those coming off the front, a 7 km/h headwind does not make a hernia!   Less than a dozen in our clan meant more than the usual two shifts for the lap, up to Channel Rd to point homeward with the benefit of the breeze at the bum.  Closer to the front and closer to the ChaCha lengthened my odds of a placing, Nick and MyRideTrev headed the herd into Kinder corner as the tempo turned up.  TrekTrev rolled across with Prentice Rd in sight, so I wound up the 13 cog to make the sprinters sweat, Trav having the victorious velocity.

Week 3     254 km                 YTD  849 km

Week 2 : A chorus of crucified carbon

Post 430
6/1  Saturday's style study.

Prologue plans fizzled on What'sApp Friday, so a solo was set as the safest option (rather than rely on BamBam's version of commitment), the freedom of my own circuit and speed but not a draft to be had.  Up to the golf course, along Wanganui then south down to Mitchell to clock the k's, east to Archer then north to town, timed to perfection to connect with the clan (TatMat, Boof, Kel, TatPaul, Shorty, Determinedan, The Godfather, SuperMario, Weapon, Nev, Tina, PistolPete, Bo, NewAvantiJohn, Lucy, Sean, TrekTrev, Softa, CatCol, Ross and Bruce) exiting the carpark and settle into the spin south.

ScottMatt appeared as we closed in on the Broken bridges, Kel drove the train courteously passing the cruising Cougar and Popgun at Channel Rd.  My study of styles and sits exposed such variation, from the statuesque (Pistol, Kel and TatMat) to the staccato, the spinners and grinders, the straight and the shaky, the focused and the fazed, and all within a few centimeters and seconds of each other being happy or horizontal.  Somehow a lot of skill and a dash of fortune keeps us all upright.

I sensed spongy steering at the Toaster turn, but put it down to a rippled road, by the Pine Lodge rail line my puncture prophecy was proven, so called a halt.  The keen eyes of Kel and Weapon spied the glass, repairs done through the torment of flies then all were aboard for a test of tempo to town.  Track Stan and Sam had joined the flock, a toasty northeaster turning up the wick westward (nobody to stymie the speed) thought there were sectors of calm depending on who was in the drivers seat.  I was in a pickle on position as Ford Rd finished, way too close to the pointy end with the intensity imminent.

Third wheel to Nev and TrackStan was my short straw as DECA drew near, Stan rolled over and I let loose on a "couldn't-win-so-work-'em" mission to set the sprint steaming.  150 meters of massacre and I was toast, TrekTrev took over starting a tsunami of sprinters spearing toward Mt.Wanganui, Softa slicing across me, depserate to hang onto the tow.  At the third gasp I was o.t.a., calling on the Almighty to keep Determinedan's draft, the racing line into Rudd Rd got me back onto the tail for restitution to begin, though the Boulevard tempo tested many to keep in touch.  Records fell on the "Coffee Shop champion" segment toward breakfast where kit colours, international (blog) interest and proper bike fitting kept conversation cooking as the sun toasted temperatures for a 42 degree (107F) day.

7/1 Sunday's slow significance.

A calm cruise Sunday with no heed to averages, heart rates or speed was a luxurious leg loosener on an Old Dookie, Boundary and Channel course with Weapon, significant bike matters discussed insignificantly on a pleasantly cool follow up to Saturdays sizzler.  A few fellow cyclusts had saddled up for Sunday, exiting town as we arrived for the important business of coffee and banana bread.


8/1 Monday's muscle motivation.

Monday's lap proves popular with the pedaling possessed, a chance to wear off weekend weight, motivate muscles and quaff coffee at the conclusion.  Bruce, The Godfather, Tina, MyRideTrev, PistolPete, Cate, CatCol, Rocket, Bo & Kel converged on the carpark, speed limits satirically set for the circuit.   It's refreshing to ta a different course (Channel-Boundary-Lemnos Cosgrove-Ford and Wanganui) than the same old same old we've cranked for an eternity.  I had Tina's tempo for leg 3 and The Godfather's half wheel to the cypress trees, but MyRideTrev dampened the drive beyond there.

Whispering Jack and Goose turned up from earlier efforts in Boundary Rd, the southerly shoving us north.  CatCol called a calm for a minor mechanical at New Dookie Rd, a little reshuffle of the order as we got up to speed, riding the rumble strips for a rail line that's not used any more.  West into Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd with Tina to the bridge, then beside Bo with Lemnos North Rd a distant target, I'd found a ripper rhythm at 85 rpm to hold a steady speed that caressed the confidence. A sprint to Mt Wanganui was supressed as Tina and Cate put in a big drive to Rudd Rd, most making a Boulevard beeline for coffee but employment steered me home.

9/1  A quick crowd.

The pairing of the pace protagonists proves popular, the combined 5:45's and 5:50's attracting Grumpy, Boof, ChrisA, Rocket, Kel, PistolPete, BeerMat, Shorty, Cate, SuperMario, Tina, CatCol, Bo, Pelly, Nev, Bruce and Softa as Tuesdays quick crowd.  Popgun (bunch befuddled?) popped off the back at Kensington gardens as two lines legged it east, a calm on the conscience with plenty of players to share the grind.  Smoothness of speed spared the suffering, though there's always that one who insists on repeated freewheeling to ruin the rhythm (no names for fear of litigation!)   All the way to Boundary Rd and my shift still wasn't due (there'd have been three by now on a usual Tuesday) so the social ping pong played across the rows to River Rd.  Time for work came at Laws Drive beside Cate, a belt to the bridges then settled in for a 1400 meter slog to Central Kialla Rd with BeerMat, but his bubble had all but burst in 300 meters.  Licking his lips in anticipation, Bo moved up to maim, handing out the hurt a bike ahead of BeerMat to the end of River Rd.  Breathless 'round the bend, BeerMat sank back to the caboose to compose while CatCol and Bo drove to Mitchell.  Collecting Weapon as the bunch breeched Archer, we worked west over the highway, heads down and the pace building as Arcadia Downs drew near.  SuperMario had the helm as the crew kinked into Conrod (just when you think you've got it easy in a big bunch, your number comes up at the business end!), keen sprinters swarming in the midfield. Bo led the charge with 400 left, but Boof and Chris A had the horsepower when it mattered, I snagged third spot aided by a handy tow from CatCol.  

10/1 Sauteed in sprint sauce.

Zig-zagging the streets avoided the number one grid position, but it was a calm crew for cruising collecting in the carpark for Wednesday.  TrekTrev, Sean, Tina, NewAvantiJohn, MyRideTrev, Cate, Boof, Lucy, PistolPete, Kenworth, The Godfather and SuperMario  set forth with Shorty as train driver, the usual rendevous with the early edition (Trav, Rocket, BamBam, Kel, CatCol and Bo) at the truck route filled the ranks, 12 degrees welcoming armwarmers back into fashion.  The sloth-like sun slowly  peeked over the horizon as we turned into River Rd, Kenworth back from holidays, Bo hand-balling the blame of Tuesdays BeerMat belting and Rocket still at odds with odd wheels.  Once a full time flog around the 30k course, I should put it down to a few k's of toil that makes it easier now (until the sprint!)

River Rd done (for the umpteenth time), blown by the breeze to Channel, focus was now on the flat chat, 6 k's ahead.
SuperMario felt sure his turn would be done well before Kinder corner, but sure as bindii in spring, he was at the rushin' front as the ChaCha appeared.  I rolled straight over and hit the gas at Hopeful corner, too soon at the front so stretch 'em! Prentice Rd appeared quickly (48 @ 180) but the finish line appeared a world away.  Slowly sauteed in a sprint sauce, the old engine was misfiring 100 meters later,just wishing the sprinters would fly by to put me out of my misery.  Soon enough, half the pack catapulted past in a chorus of crucified carbon, Boof victorious (of course) as I clawed my way into a rearward draft.

11/1  Thuffering Thursday.
I had early arrival syndrome again, a circuit of the streets sat me in safely at third wheel (in the down line), therapy to thuffering Thursday.

Vince, CatCol, Boof, SuperMario, PistolPete, Kel, Bruce, BeerMat, Bo, NewAvantiJohn, Trav, and Rocket made a slow start for Nev to get aboard (waiting for a straggler that wasn't ours).  Sleep-in Softa appeared at the ChaChato join the jaunt, the salubrious sun-up a distraction for the distressed.  SuperMario's recent efforts are delivering dividends, but BeerMat's TdU training is a tad tardy.  In a carbon copy of Tuesday, my shift came up just beyond the River Rd dip, softly with Softa (fearing legal repercussions or being deafened by his distress) but boosted beside Boof as we descended the dizzy heights of the channel bridge. Boof called it before I did (elephant stamp for me!) though I took till Central Kialla to recover.

Bo's licorice allsort socks was the fashion faux pas en-route to Mitchell Rd, a "sit on" thought had crossed my mind but SuperMario's continued advance to the pointy end snapped me out of the soft option.  To the front with Boof into the 40's at Arcadia Downs exorcised all my efforts, Rocket (just getting warmed up) drawing the bunch skinny and swift into Conrod straight.  The pace was perforating the pack with half a k to go, most just content to survive as Nev, CatCol, Pistol and Boof bolted for bragging rights.

12/1  This hillness hurts!
Bent on ascent attempts, I took myself to Bright on Friday, to crank previously unchartered climbs of Tawonga Gap and Falls Creek.  From the picturesque populus of Bright, a 5 k warm-up before steering up the Tawonga Gap Rd, my new friend Mr Dura Ace (with 38 teeth) smiled at the employment.  6 k's of catagory 4 dug into the reserves, what to save and what lay ahead was the mystery (puts pace plans in a pickle).

A few scenic lookouts suggested I'd peaked, the tarmac tilting downward to Mt Beauty was a beauty.  A few lathered lycra lads were on the up as I descended, cue the wry grin for their suffering.  Into Mt Beauty, I headed to Bogong, another 15 k's of 5% but with a few ups and downs thrown in for variety. I had a massive conscience conflict to u-turn or carry on to Falls peak, rule #5 saved the day (but there'd better be a good suffer score+ for this!)  Hundreds of tree ferns and the call of lyrebirds and bellbirds was a world away from hometown orchards and magpies, recent rains and a misting from above putting a gloss on the tarmac.

15k's of catagory 1 all upward without reprieve had me digging deep, great to reach the gatehouse but the village was the target.  A further 3.8k's seemed endless, heart rate refusing to dip below 175, flies finding orifices that had no welcome mat, and still the road rose around each corner.  The glimmer of the steep village roofs was a sight for sore legs, finally to the summit but some time was needed for composure, I was wrung out like a wet sock!  A decent shower delayed the downhill, a steamy and slippery descent put caution high on the agenda.  The long downward was a payback for the hurt on the up, working the brakes overtime to keep traction on the hairpins.

The few rises beyond Bogong buckled the legs, but normal transmission was resumed back in Mt.Beauty.  The sharp rise to Towonga gap was brutal on buggered legs, and fighting to keep cramps at bay I was almost at the top when the gastroch's locked up with pain, forcing a short walk of shame (nice to have a couple of motoring offers for a lift, but a few meters on foot fixed it)  Reaching the top was Christmas on a stick, all downhill to Bright with the brewery and a burger begging me. (+116km climbing 2561 meters scored me a 452 suffer score)

Week 2    379km                 YTD 595km

Week 1 : A window for a win.

Post #429

30/12  A wry ride.
A mass of last minute arrivals (guaranteed seats in the caboose) left me a leading role to get the 6am Saturday train rolling, but I was 42 years out of date to Liam in the pairing to drive out of town.  BeerMat, The Godfather, BassoDan, Rocket, Tina, PistolPete, Nick, Shorty, Bo, MyRideTrev, Kel, Cate, NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, TatMat, Travis, SuperMario, Vince and Pelly were following, but Liam & I were in trouble by Kialla Lakes with bits busting off the back, so slowed to rekindle friendships.  There was no early edition, but a sweet sunrise lit the way east, chat (minus the flat chat) the Saturday standard.  A perfect 17 degrees and a prevailing southwester helped us through Central Kialla, we intercepted Tommygun and settled into the cruise to Boundary Rd.

Popgun and Cougar had ridden reconnoiter on River, jumping aboard the caboose as the train tempo'd to turn north.  The weeks' news was chewed with Vince (on a new and not so subtle Trek), BassoDan (deserves the title of DeterminedDan) and BeerMat on the way to the back to the rear, then Rocket, Kel and Pelly on the advance to the rushin' front as the peloton plied its way on Old Dookie Rd.  There'd be two arrow like rows if it weren't for just one off-line, polite suggestions for conformity reached deaf ears which made it worse.  Maybe there's a need to carve rule #59 into the handlebars?

Piggery pungency is back on our agenda, round the Toaster and up to The Big Ring for the usual Pussycat intercept. (me hopes the defection of Car+Mel to feline fraternisation is fleeting?) Enthusiasm energised the westerly work back to town, a southwester of little consequence to pace. Much muscle was needed to match Liam at the front but a mushy Michelin made sense of my slog.  The pause for my puncture earned many a breather, I was swamped by flies (and some sledges) but was repaired and back aboard without much ado.  Back on the upline as we crossed Grahamvale Rd, I was overtaken by a rear rider who then cut across, then decided to wriggle into the down-line.  Go figure!

Bo scored the lead-out duties in Wanganui Rd as pace percolated into the 40's, Pistol the number two driver taking over at DECA.  Liam was handed the helm just beyond the test track as I hung on (pedaling possessed) to his skinny draft.  Rocket lit the afterburners at Mt.Wanganui's base and drew into the distance, the groans and gasps slowly subsiding as a stretched bunch steered into Rudd Rd. Time was precious on the Boulevard with breakfast begging, BeerMat a few minutes in arrears as 23 berthed at the Lemontree long table.   Wozza & Jase, NewAvantiJohn & Laynie were welcomed extras for tucker and talk on clinchers vs singles, tread vs slick, annual achievements and conformity.

31/12  OCD me  (completing k's)
The obsessive cycling disorder struck hard on 2017's swansong, the craving for k's (thinking I was 40k's shy of 14,000) swung a leg over the Baum at 6am.  Out to the golf course then east to The Big Ring, I got a clear start to Sunday though 10 degrees felt fresh.
Speed was struck from the 'to do' list (funny how solos sends standards sluggish) , only meters mattered, but the Garmin's grim figures soon chiseled at the conscience to have a bit of a go. Don't you just love the tranquility of a car-less course?  A little Michelin music on the tarmac to tune out the thoughts and I'd reached the turn at the Big Ring earlier than expected, but faced a little bit of a southwester to make me earn my raisin toast back in town.   Back to Boundary, down to Channel and headed homeward, a few bikes were now emerging from the suburbs, my mind entrenched in coffee and toast as a top off to 2017.

1/1  The resolution : Just ride ffs!

You question why you're cranking into the breeze at 5:25 on new years morning, but the up-all-nighters staggering the streets soon gave the answer.  Broken glass and a few ambulances made chicanes, the heart rate monitor got a bit carried away (242bpm) en route to the carpark, Cate the only one possessed (and sober) enough to front up. Our resolution ; just ride ffs!  There was a mutual motivation to swap turns on the old Saturday circuit (35 km), the shared toil far faster than a solo, so out Channel and up Boundary with our friend the wind helping.  How good is it to share the load with a smooth wheel at a solid speed and ditch the worry of wobblitis!  The k's blurred by as the sun started the year, I'd imagined hard yakka on the homeward leg but a 84 rpm spin into the breeze made pleasing progress.  A slight slowing, a hint of headaling (headal; verb : The bobbing action of the skull brought on when the legs fail to provide sufficient power to the pedals) and a down-change told me Cate was feeling the pace, so I took a longer shift at the front in Ford Rd (but the tow gave Cate a second wind to work me over on the length of Wanganui).  An unexpected reward of a 35 average for 35 k's compensated the burning legs to home.

2/1   Bo: Puncture pussy!

Only the dedicated (or gastronomically guilty) emerged from the festive feasts and new years' hydration marathons to kick start their 2018 resolutions on Tuesday, CatCol, Rocket, Softa, Tina, PistolPete, Ralphy, Kel, Nev, Bo, ScottMatt and MyRideTrev assembling for a Hares/Machines co-operative crank, but a soft front tyre befell Bo, the puncture pussy passing the fix onto Kel! Repaired rapidly and riding out Channel Rd with an advertised cap of 35 on the pace (yeah, as if!), we'd only reached the S bend when Bo bellyached puncture number two!

Sledges shifted to overdrive as Nev and Kel mastered the repair, post haste underway with a reshuffle of the order put me in a pairing with PistolPete (the tailwind in Boundary helped but the forties tortured)  The k beside CatCol cooked me, though I felt for Rocket about to face the headwind of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd alongside Nev.  And so from the draft I contemplated the youthful vigor of the crew (Ralphy time tested to shortcut home), a solid push to reach Verney Rd where the lure of the Lemontree's coffee drew the bunch to town.

3/1   Perfect position.
A push into the SSW'er to the car park netted me the number one grid position again, most of the southerners rolling in with a minute to spare (tow me tactics!) Trav, Cate, Nev, Kev and TrekTrev, MyRideTrev, Kel, AvantiAndy, PistolPete, Jen, Sean, Tina, Shorty, SuperMario, Nick, Bo, TheGodfather, Pelly, CatCol and NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John lined up for the 6am exit, my drive to the roundabout beside Bo fueled by frustration (should I start circling the streets to avoid the fate of the first berth?).   The sun's rise is notably later just 12 days beyond the solstice, so now begins the slow slip to darker days.  It was all very chatty in the gradual anti-clockwise roll through the pack, plenty of participants making it a one or two turn ride.  The breeze made it's presence felt for my turn two in Channel Rd, beyond the S bend the tempo brewed for the ChaCha's crescendo.  Sitting sweet in the up-line shelter from the southwester at Hopeful corner was a perfect position, Bo busting his boiler to break out from a boxed in spot.  The front ranks swelled as the drivers hit their limit, a window for a win opening for me in the right lane.  Bo bolted by but I was onto his draft, a full steam spin (105) got me 'round the lot to pinch the chocolates in the dying meters, respiritorially ruined, but pumped at a podium.

4/1   Sweet seventeen.

I'd snuck a sneaky side street stall to avoid grid number one on Thursday, another mixed menage of 6am'ers, Machines and Hares (Rocket, Lucy, WhisperingJack, Cate, Nick, Bruce,Kel, Trav, PistolPete, Tina, Tum, Shorty, MyRideTrev, Bo, Nev and Softa) till holidays end will swell the ranks for seperate pursuits (or plods).   A 5:50 exit onto a fresh (13) Channel Rd with the speed set at a sublime 35 (well, for a minute or so!) had jaws flapping and toes tapping east, almost a repeat of Tuesday with an assisting breeze in Boundary.

Conversations crossed the rows on Softa hardening from holidays, the copious kits of PistolPete, Bruce back from Brizzy, Tum's kiwi Christmas and WhisperingJacks almost unrecognisable profile as I collected compliments from Kel.  Again, I'd timed my turn to a tee, sailing along at speed on Boundary (breeze up the bum a bonus) with Kel to Hill Road and Tina to Lemnos-Cosgrove, then to tuck into a draft all the way to Wanganui as others took on the toil.  Weapon appeared in Ford Rd aboard the TT Avanti, her 700mm carbon dinner plate howling a turbine-like tune. With time to spare, the lap extended onto Wanganui Rd, rapidity restrained to barely break 40 so all seventeen savored a sweet and social circuit  (the speed psychosis sets in next week when 5:45's and 5:50's separate to chase.)

5/1  Early etcetera.

To rid the ride repetition of repeated 30 & 40 k's, I set sail solo at 5 on Friday for a solitary 30 to intercept the bunch.  The search for cadence that's neither a cruise or a crucifixion was on, keeping heart happy and head away with the fairies, I soon settled for 84 rpm that satisfied speed without burning the rectus femorus.  Prepared to take a pace cut into Boundary Rd's breeze, I was pleasantly chuffed to hold good speed south, rapt reaching River and out of the head wind but energy was evaporating by the dip.  A k calming the cardiac calamities put lead back in the pencil, ready for a push through Central Kialla, onto Mitchell then a cruise up Archer to meet the mob (SuperMario, Lucy, CatCol, AvantiAndy, Jen, Goose, PistolPete, TrekTrev, BeerMat, Boof, Rocket, Weapon, WhisperingJack, Shorty, Nick, MyRideTrev, Kel, Trav, Bruce, Bo, BamBam, Ralphy, Tina and NewAvantiJohn).

The bunch draft was tasty, an extra 5 km/h to the speed good for the average.  Pat and Cougar were on a River Rd reconnaissance and were adopted into the fold, my babble with Nick on camping, with BeerMat on TdU preparations (both beer and bike!) and BamBam on new year resolutions killed the k's with conversation. The Godfathers' holler from the confines of the Cats was a different perspective!  A new face in the bunch stood out like Vince's velocipede,  "not-so-GiantRob" (a shortish guy) on a Giant from the big smoke here on work. 
A stick was overlooked on the crank to Kinder corner, Rocket collecting the kindling to mash up the speed sensor, stuff a spoke and scratch him from the sprint.  The usual chase to the ChaCha stretched and thinned the pack, I went into survival gear (with many others) to finish midfield.

Week 1    309 km