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(guaranteed seats in the caboose) left me a leading role to get the 6am Saturday train rolling, but I was 42 years out of date to Liam in the pairing to drive out of town.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