Post #459
28/7 Saturday's sober squad.
With a blood moon as company, a relaxed roll to the ride contemplated a reduced roll-up, last night's beer and pizza gig may well put many on the "too fragile" list. I arrived to a sparse start line of Cate, Bruce, TatPaul, PistolPete and TrekTrev, the main focus on Pistol's new Pinarello (matte black F10 Dogma, e-tap, discs, Scope wheels etc), almost as stylish as the man himself. With dribbles of desire mopped up (thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's bike!), the 6am resolution was to shorten the circuit (being short on
cyclusts), so we set sail south single file for the usual Archer, Mitchell and River course but to bypass the Toaster and BigRing and bore straight up Boundary. Bruce led the lads (and lady) down the long leg to the roundabout, me all psyched up for second shift, helped by old mate the north northeaster. Sean's made a habit of joining in out of town, but another participant is always welcome (particularly when the peloton is paltry).
Indian file was anti-social for a Saturday but it lightened the load of six in the draft, PistolPete's easterly effort in Mitchell Rd executed with ease, TrekTrev oblivious to the northerly up to River Rd, Sean short in his first shift (at least he's having a go) for me to take the drive to the bridge. The moon's red glow behind hadn't started a zombie apocalypse or triggered any lunar lunacy (apart from what already exists!), Bruce and Pistol driving the hard yards toward the quarter horse stud as Nath arrived from the east to join the line of seven. TatPaul set the tempo in Boundary Rd's northeaster and Cate put in a determined drive to the bridges as I soaked up the calmer karma in the caboose. The breeze blew a little eau de piggery at us over the highway, TrekTrev and Sean pointing our pace to Old Dookie Rd where Nath opened the afterburners to New Dookie Rd. (with most in the gutter in search of a draft, a little echelon etiquette would have eased some effort) The turn west into Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd promoted me to the front, gently on the gas to keep the crew together and on to the bridge for a handover to TatPaul. We'd reeled in a red led ahead on Ford Rd, welcoming Weapon to the riding ranks as excitement / resentment (strike out that which does not apply) brewed for the sprint ahead.
TrekTrev and Sean departed on other sporting specialities at Numurkah Rd, the business of winding up for Wanganui putting heads down and heart rates up. As usual, two lines became one well before DECA but a sprint seemed superfluous with only six, so a pseudo pain train swapping turns to the hill sufficed instead. The line in Rudd Rd looked short, a headcount finding Weapon missing in action, so I about faced to court company back to breakfast. Pedestrians Leah, Mrs.Pistol and Jen joined the tattle on ageing, platypi (platypodes?) and titanium at a shorter than usual Lemontree table.
30/7 Mondayne?
Another dull and dreary start to the week did little to muster motivation, still I should be thankful I can get out of bed when some poor folk can't (my sympathys BeerMat, Softa, Ralphy, BamBam, Grumpy etc etc) Eastward early on New Dookie Rd had a welcome westerly (heart-ache for the head wind home!) to briefly boost the confidence, though lethargy kept my pace pedestrian in the low to mid 30's. Boundary Rd arrived earlier than expected, the way south highlighting the wind blowing at the right shoulder. Ignoring the incompetence incurred watching TdeF highlights (how does Roglic ride a 200k stage, climb 5000 meters and average 36.4 km/h?) I pressed on at my snail-like speed to Channel Rd preparing for the punishment back to town, but pace proved pretty positive despite the head-on 24km/h westerly. There's just enough left and right turns in Channel Rd to get a brief breather, but by the time town came into view I'd had enough, heading for the medicinal benefits of banana bread and a long black.
31/7 A mixed menagerie.
Tuesday's grid looked grim at 5:57 till Coggo, Belly, Heady, Sandy, Phil, Hommie and Cate turned up, Cats courting companionship (AvantiCraig and CatKel) adding to the assembly at Friars when 6 bells tolled. I led a cruisy exit of town when traffic lights split the line up on Old Dookie Rd, a chance to draw breath before labouring the leg to Dobson's bridge. Ten in a row promised plenty of ease between efforts, Cate cranking to Central Ave for Phil to lead leg 3. Sandy tailed the team as I tucked into Hommie's draft, his Avanti is well overdue for a cleansing. Belly's bout was brief but Coggo put in his usual tenacious turn, AvantiCraig and CatKel keeping courteous. Hooray for Heady stepping up to suffer again as we crossed the highway, Belly's second shift short but Coggo and Hommie polished off Boundary Rd for me to rip into River. My head said gently on the gas for the first 100 and ride on the right to keep sweet with those sucking up a slipstream at the back, drive on to the angora farm and elbow Cate to the captaincy. Another round of turns gobbled up 6k's toward Central Kialla, AvantiCraig turning up the tempo to the bridge, the speed settling back to sensible as Belly put in a proper turn to Mitchell Rd. Happy to have the time for a full lap, I was handed the helm by Hommie rising from Dave's dip and put the head down to reach the highway and after a short halt for traffic drove on to Roubaix to plan my position for Conrod straight. Heady, Hommie and Sandy had dropped off the back so I caught the back on Coggo's wheel, settling in for an oxygen overload hoping the turns went to my plan. Phil reached Arcadia Downs and AvantiCraig made it to Conrod, CatKel's crank was cooked by the dip where Belly opened the throttle. Coggo took control with 500 to go and delivered the perfect lead out as I wound up for the last 200. But all stops were out as Phil's wheel crept alongside me, just enough in the slight downhill of the last dip to edge me forward for the win.
1/8 The Superman similarity.
Shortchanged by the forecast (dry and 7 degrees was substituted for 4 degrees and overnight drizzle), I made a damp dawdle to the Couldabeens on Wednesday, the road just wet enough to make a mess of a clean bike. Why does one bother? (Rule #65 of course) Kreeky, CatCol, TrekTrev, Nev, Wozza, Rocket, not-so-newAvantiJohn, The Godfather, Mark, PistolPete, Sean and Trish collected in the carpark, attendance way beyond expectation. CatCol captained the first leg south of town, not-so-newAvantiJohn (just back from Darwin and coming to grips with the weather) advanced as fog quickly settled in the low lands. I was happy to wait behind CatCol for the natural order to take me forward as others advanced. The diabolical danger of dressing in the dark had struck Sean with a wardrobe malfunction, somewhat similar to Superman if you get my drift...…..to earn him that nickname hereafter (picture withheld to preserve what dignity may remain).
I'd guess many have fronted a ride with a faux pas of helmetlessness or minus tube and tools, gloves etc., but this one earned extra embarrassment. I'd reached the rear as we turned into River Rd, just one headlight behind (and staying put) believed to be Trish, so I joined the upline to be sandwiched by the swift (following Rocket and being followed by CatCol), the moment of truth coming at the angora farm as Rocket rolled across The Godfather to put me front of house. Pretty pleased with my pace (considering the company) as we sped toward Boundary Rd, I'd even managed to chat a sentence or two (so long as they didn't exceed six words!) but thought it best to get out while the going was good. CatCol paired with me to River's end, welcoming his tow as we turned into Boundary Rd.
Pistol's Pinarello punctured at the Broken bridges so a halt was called to fix. The drawback of disc brakes was the dilemma, removing and replacing the skewer and the precision alignment will be standard practice before long (give me the old school caliper any day). Time was ticking for me to get to town, so when another halt was called I tendered apologies to slog solo home. A westerly had sprung up to hamper my hurry but the bunch had mobilised quickly and caught me at Hopeful corner. Weapon had boarded the train as I caught the tail, being towed back to town keeping me on schedule for another day at the coal face.
2/8 Zerology.
Signals to surrender were strong on Thursday, mercury at zero and strengthening symptoms of a cold rattled my resolve, but stubbornness shoved me out the door before I gave it too much thought. Belly, Sandy, AvantiLeigh, Heady, Cate, Coggo, Hommie and Phil proved that winter only stops the soft, Sly (a Cat cast-off?) turning up to make a train of ten.
Heady owns the first shift and led us on the "Headyheadnouttatown" segment to Doyles Rd. Hommie did the speed shift to Dobson's bridge, Sandy then Cate continuing to Central Ave. Careful not to snap the rubber band, I turned up the tempo gently toward School Rd, passing the pace to Sly who diplomatically drove to Boundary Rd.
AvantiLeigh took careful charge of the southern spin to the fig farm, 10 in a row making the effort easy (six single file sharing speed suits me, though some would say sixty is suitable!) Belly's turn was tiny as we passed the pub, Heady got the elephant stamp for effort facing the front fearlessly, Hommie huffed and puffed to One Tree Dam for Cate to crank to River Rd, the icy blast from oncoming traffic taking several breaths away. Gently on the throttle again when I scored the lead role west, many a glance at the Garmin to smooth the speed for the benefit of all, driving to the quarter horse stud and elbow Cate into the hot seat. I rolled to the rear where Sandy had cemented her spot (but there was no sign of Sly), seems I'd score a free tow to the end of River before slogging a solo home. Peeling off to tap the truck route to town, I settled the speed a smidge in the interest of survival, no recovery in a draft for this solo sausage and I had that lovely minus 0.6 to enjoy.
3/8 Candles in the wind.
9 degrees was akin to the Bahamas, well worth a prologue in preparation for the Friday soiree. 12k's on a northern loop assimilating to a gusty northeaster (24-35 km/h) was more psychological preparation than physical, arriving at the start line as PistolPete, Bruce, Rocket, Cate, Kreeky, CatCol, Pelly, Superman, Wozza and The Godfather rolled in. Wozza led the charge from town and I should have done an early turn with the breeze behind, but the early pace was pickling me (submit incessant symptoms of a cold as an excuse) Pistol, Rocket and Bruce finished off the swift southern legs as many readied for the turn to face the wind, reality trimming 8 km/h off the tempo as two lines stacked across Mitchell Rd. It was inspiring to see everyone having a dip into the tough stuff, whether fit or fading, Pelly, Superman and Cate taking the blast on the brow to River Rd.
I felt lucky to get a little shelter from the trees as I hit the front, but that lasted as long as a Whispering Jack comeback when we ran out of cover and faced the open spaces. CatCol called 'enough' at the bridge just as I was about to do likewise (a long wait for the heartrate to drop back to something like sensible in his draft), PistolPete and Bruce seemingly blasé to the breeze as they bored toward Boundary Rd. Noses north and the pain persisted (see your medical practitioner?) and I was back to the front again for a little hard labour till trees came to my rescue at the Broken bridges. All went quiet for a moment in Channel Rd with the wind now behind us, the whine of wheels at work soon filling the ears as tempo turned into the forties toward home, pleasure and pace taking place of the previous pain. Some chose to sit at the back as the heart and lungs were asked to do more and the ChaCha drew near, even The Godfather slipped silently to the caboose when the lines thinned to single at Hopeful corner. My legs were labouring the limit as the fitter and faster fled forward, so I was delighted to reach Orrvale Rd where the sprint ends, but a keen tempo to town continued, keeping calves cooking.
Week 31 237km YTD 8,239km.
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