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.
9/1 A quick crowd.
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!) 
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.
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).
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
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