Week 21 : A payback for past pleasures.

Post #449
19/5  A cool crew.
The social spin has become an infatuated institution, aboard the bike at 5:45 in 3 degrees for Saturday number 210, wondering who would make up the mixed menage of maniacs this time.

Wozza, Tina, MyRideTrev, Trav (not Travis, so I'll tag him Kreeky), Liam, Shorty, TatMat, Travis (not Kreeky), BigLen, TatPaul, Boof, Determined Dan, Mark, PistolPete, Sean, The Godfather, ScottMatt, TrekTrev and Trish surmounted the chill to congregate in the carpark.  Wozza captained the cool crew into the fog on Archer Rd, just two in the early edition (Rocket and CatCol) joining en-route to Mitchell Rd.  Tina was on the back of a Friday ton (nothing for the queen of k's), PistolPete personified panache with a new class kit ('bout time, reckon I've seen one of his outfits twice), TatMat still a little lax (too much walking, not enough riding), BigLen balaclava'd like a burglar, Travis salivating over a forthcoming Port Douglas escape and Determined Dan delighted to be on day shift.  But back to the business of bikes!  I'd progressed through the ranks of the social toward the pointy end, not till Boundary Rd's channel bridge did I pair with BigLen, then with Tina from the fig farm to slice the crisp virgin air (too much hot air back in the bunch?)  Loose stones at Old Dookie Rd made it caution corner, a bit tricky when most folks fingers (and toes) were now in numbness land.

My Michelin's (2,800 km) hummed, the groupset (8,700 km) purred and the Baum (38,000 km) rolled on reliably, shame the old engine (246,000 km) is so worn!  Turns swapped short and long (proportional to fitness) , speed see-sawing a bit to the frustration of some. A long line of felines was shy of the Big Ring as we pointed west toward breakfast, ScottMatt (with a lack of lumens) now had enough light to roll through, Trish now inspired for her maiden advance (Damn! She stole BigLen's draft from me!)  Rocket fought off hypnosis from Mark's dazzling tail-light (aimed high and bright), combined with a staccato cadence, he was a hard act to follow.    Fog had lifted in Ford Rd to clear a course to town, I was on the up line again predicting the predicament of pace for Wanganui Rd. 
Rocket's wattage drew the bunch into a file of Indians at the water treatment plant, me graciously squeezing into the draft of the left line as the right line disappeared. Rocket peeled off at DECA's gate, Mark inheriting the hurt with head down on the headstem.  It seemed only a second till his elbow sent the signal of 'stuffed' , my turn for the pain driving the train to the hill.  The old engines' energy evaporated at 45 with barely a 100 meters covered, a tidal wave of contenders hurrying by as I overdosed on oxygen.  Finding a handful of survivors tucked in behind to crest the hill put the pressure back on to catch the tail, burning my rubbery legs to reconnect in Rudd Rd.  Through the city streets, the race for the warm seats was on, but the pedestrians (Bo. Mrs.Pistol and Kel) had pounced prior.  A chilly chat on grocery costs, spoilt kids, toe temperature and the bliss of bread & butter dampened the rigor of the ride ('till standing half an hour later returned the memories)

21/5  The hurry and the headwind.

Hitching a ride on Monday's westerly (20-32 km/h) felt like forbidden fruit, but there'd be a price of pain to pay on the about face to home. Making the most of it, I aimed at a PB for the New Dookie Disco (no match and no want for Kel's well earned QOM) pushing harder and longer in search of the finish at Boundary Rd (are those signs really 6 k's away?)  That competitive craving crucified the calves to the college, thereafter the legs argued the case for the negative.  (all that effort and I was still 12 seconds short!)  Boundary Rd was spent in recovery, preparing for the hard yards home, the wind channelling into Channel Rd as a payback for past pleasures. My speed pleased at first, but lower and lower the chin sank to satisfy the standards as reality took hold, the short sections of shelter on the 9k's back to town a brief bonus from the blast. Standards had slipped under 30 in the final 2k, the only urge left was for coffee and toast, the win was wise words with Weapon for the weeks warm-up.

22/5  'Cause it's nice when you stop.
If only to confirm the craziness, I found myself eastbound in the early hours of Tuesday with a 20 km/h headwind home again, you'd think I'd remember yesterday's windswept workout! The original intention was to get to the Toaster and work my way back, but the lure of a shortcut via Boundary Rd was too great (3k's off the workload might be a sign of softening?)  I'd saved a little wattage for the return to town, assuming the aero position and settling into 85 rpm in Old Dookie Rd worked well against the 20k's worth of westerly, a few passing cars gave a moments reprieve but the oncoming ones blew me backwards.  20 solo k's done and back in suburbia, I found Heady, Sandy, Phil, Hommy, Dippa, Sootie and Belly at Friars ready to launch. 

Heady and Dippa led the crew calmly out of town, speed steadily rising with the breeze at our backs.  Pairing with Sootie at Central Ave for the drive to the bridge fizzled Foss's fuse, a break in Bali has boosted the boy!  The hard yards came in Boundary with the wind at the starboard bow, turns quickly shortening as intentions imploded reaching the front.  Most served several shifts to drag the pack to River Rd, the call for "single" as we steered west into the wind putting me in the drivers seat.  Careful not to bust any off the back, I'd reached the smooth tarmac to hand the reigns to Sootie, Sandy now in the survival seat of the caboose.  Through the dip and over the bridge, Hommy took the lead, but failing to signal the small branch had us all making kindling.  Belly's blood boiled and bolted for River's end, my job now to Band-Aid the busted bunch together for the last half k.  My usual exit to the truck route and Archer to home was a task without a draft, at least the pace was mine to make (although a time clock awaited to keep it keen).

23/5  Two tribes.

Special guest appearances by Car+Mel added to Wednesdays Couldabeens collection at the carpark, TrekTrev, Boof, SuperMario, Cate, Sean, PistolPete, Tina and Kreeky made a decent roll-up when weather normally trims the attendance.  Ladies led the lads out of town, the turns at the front rolling a little more regularly with the southwester wearing down the willpower.  Shorty blended in from his early escape, an expanded early edition (The Godfather, CatCol, Rocket, Wozza, BamBam and not-so-newAvantiJohn) integrating on leg 3 as I was promoted (presumptuously) to the pointy end for punishment. 
Respite in Mitchell Rd wasn't going to happen as TrekTrev kept me busy toward Central Kialla, the tow and the tailwind headed north, heaven sent.  A volley of velocity volunteers made life easier, Nev keeping a lid on speed at the front for the majority of River Rd.
I'd been demoted all the way to the back by the Broken bridges where the promotion forward began again, all very chatty till half way along Channel Rd where shifts shortened.   The ChaCha's short straw seemed less likely for me as I hit the business end with Kreeky at Jameson Rd, turns rolling in my favour as the bunch bolted toward the Kinder.  All the huffing and puffing was wasted to Prentice Rd as Nev launched a long lead-out for Rocket, Boof and the fast fellows following.  The Godfather kept the cadence cooking back to town, a rostered day off my chance for a rare midweek Scottish caffeine and chat.

I turned to tribe two at 8 fronting Adams Rd to re-unite with the ranks of the retirees.  Hoffy, Gawny, Chilly, The Pom, Wobbly Trev, Bazza, Jeff, Ron and DeepFry lined up, but I don't rank Tina in the aged section.  With lots of daylight but lots of traffic, the dozen aimed at Mitchell Rd Indian file, two lines pairing on the easterly assault, so  I teamed with Tina for a long haul as a fair share for the slightly senior strugglers.

Long-time-no-chat with Hoffy and Chilly, The Pom was on hie 6th ride in 3 months, Bazza super socked (to the knees), WobblyTrev not-so-wobbly and Gawny turning super septuagenarian.  Boundary Rd was beaut with the breeze behind so the tempo turned up but several shortened their shifts suffering the speed.
  Distance was now starting to punish my posterior (the legacy of constant weekday 30's and 40's) but I pushed on to Old Dookie Rd, the call of 'gravel' at the intersection testing a few on the turn (calls from the rear about traffic were non-existent)   Tina and I were quickly back to the front again as more joined the caboose, the westerly work on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd made more so by the SSW'er.  The workload wound up with just six swapping turns in Ford Rd, the last k called single file for the kerb and drain works.  I got the heads up a few crafty codgers might stir for a sprint so let loose when Mt.Wanganui got close, but none responded so eased for the cruise to brunch.

24/5  Pussycat purrsuit.
Satisfied to set off solo on Thursday (hanging onto hurrying Hares without helping just doesn't cut it for me), the tail-light temptation took over in Old Dookie Rd, a purrsuit of pussycats presented a pleasant past-time.  A light southwester helped my hurry to make up a 500 meter deficit, joining in a steady mid 30's spin with Sherls, Keeno, AvantiCraig, Kelvin, Sully, Cobbles and a Giant guy (detection difficult in the dark).

A sneek peek at the pace set the standard to sit at (otherwise known as the f.i.f.o. principal), Keeno the benchmark of smooth, Sully sooking about a contribution at the front.  The breeze in Boundary Rd would sort the chuffed from the puffed, speed see-sawing relative to the fitness on the front.  Cobbles handed me the helm as we crossed the highway but even the gentlest use of the accelerator popped Sully, Kelvin and Keeno off the back (was I off their Christmas card list or was Channel Rd their preferred way home?)  Sherls, AvantiCraig, Giant guy and Cobbles were keen to continue, soldiering on south to River Rd, hoping for less west in the southwester.  Cobbles peeled off the front at the Angora farm to put me in the drivers seat, something switching in the skull to tear into a better-than-ordinary turn.  (Is it proving oneself?  Doing your fair share? Dishing out distress? Performance anxiety? Sorting out a primal pecking order?)  River Rd's bridge was factored as Foss's finish, recovery required if I was to do more turns.  So five had formed a reasonably rapid rapport to forge on through Central Kialla and toward the highway, but I wondered if some may be holding back for a fast finish at the city limits.  Contributions were equally shared on Raftery Rd and I'd done my bit from Arcadia Downs to Conrod, so sat back and enjoyed a sprintless finish.

25/5  In a Headless hurry.
Only Sootie, DocPete, Tum and Heady fronted for Fridays' fast foray, seems the cool cripples the numbers across all tribes.  Heady led our exit east, Tum taking the reigns as we cleared the truck route. It was a welcome change to be second wheel and take a few seconds to prepare for my first dip, Tum handing over at Dobsons where I put my head down to Central Ave.  Sootie took charge but our hurry was now headless,  our little thespian exiting stage rear and OTA.  Friday's free-for-all tempo meant four forged onward, Sootie, DocPete and Tum towing me to Boundary Rd's fig farm.  Cutting through a light fog I aimed at the channel bridge, but lungs were labouring shy of the mark.  Sootie shied at the highway as traffic approached, so we slowed to keep a driver now that contributors were critical. 

Tum supplied my tow to One Tree Dam where I pushed on to River Rd, just as a condensed Couldabeens clan arrived on their anti-clockwise course. And so we worked west taking turns at the toil, I got lucky beyond the Angora farm scoring the smooth surface so slogged on to reach the bridge.  Sootie seemed to be struggling when we'd reached Central Kialla but continued to contribute, no problems with DocPete and Tum's tempo tearing into Mitchell Rd. Cresting Dave's dip cooked Sootie (now in a 10 meter deficit) so we slowed to collect him (traffic was going to halt us at the highway anyway) for the return via Raftery.  Tum put in a big turn to Galbraiths gate and I got stuck in to get to Arcadia Downs, Sootie dug deep for his swansong to Conrod's dip but popped off the back when his turn was toast.  On the back for the last k was the perfect position to watch Tum and DocPete empty their tanks, a roll across the finish line, gather the group for a cruise through town and finish with breakfast at Mandy's.  The collective yarn with Sootie, DocPete,Tina, Goog's and Kelvin was a fitting finale to the week and a start to another rostered day off.

Week 21       304km            YTD 5,989km