Week 36 : Two fingernails worth of traction

Post #464
1/9  Damp, windy, feels like 4 degrees. (If this is Spring, I want my money back!)

Hope sprang eternal on Spring's first day, the road was almost dry and the temperature almost bearable, the carpark filling with TrekTrev, Rocket, Boof, Shorty, Wozza, Kel, MyRideTrev, PistolPete, Mark, TatPaul, TatMat, Bo, Nev, Bruce, The Godfather and Superman. (Popgun and Cougar, the cruising contingent, exiting via Channel Rd)  Rocket's eagle ear had heard that ominous hissing again, this time his own back tyre needing attention.  The MyRide pit crew sprang into action to the background noise of social sentences and sledging, but soon after six we set sail south, Trish filtering in to the Indian filed line to the city limits.  I struggled with the speed standard at first but a k at a cadence in the 90's learned the legs a lesson.  Convincing the head to join the up line behind Rocket was resolved seeing the line behind sitting stubbornly in the slipstream (harden up Foss, there's a tailwind to help me soon).  The west northwester blew the bunch along Mitchell Rd but I didn't reach the front till the northern leg through Central Kialla, the wind working me over with Rocket then TrekTrev alongside.

 Boisterous Bo boosted the speed (baiting The Godfather?) while strangely, the 13-20 km/h wind wouldn't shift a fog hanging over River Rd.  The new seasons canola put Spring into the fields but the temperature was now feeling way too July.   Down near the back of the bunch in Boundary Rd (MyRideTrev, Trish and Superman cemented into the rear seats) things were relaxed and chatty, maybe I'd get the breeze behind for a turn on the front in Old Dookie Rd?  I'd amazingly extracted a sentence from Mark, The Godfather's cackle couldn't be avoided, TatMat tells me he's abandoned running (for the sake of walking?) and Kel's kit's was complete in a cool couture of purple socks.
PistolPete had the Pinarello primed in Old Dookie Rd, half a suave Scope wheel ahead of Rocket was braver than most would try!  Sure enough, I drawn the short straw of the north drive to the Church, calling the shift short beside Rocket (nice guy, nasty speed!) and hanging on in quiet desperation alongside TrekTrev (in fine form).

The Pussycats have surmounted their feline phobia of the dark, almost a dozen driving the last meters of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd as we sank chins to the headstems for the work west to town.  An oncoming bloke in a ute (fresh out of the grumpy side of bed) vented his spleen about sharing the road, we'd occupied two meters of the left, did he want all of the 7.4 meter width? Rocket pointed the pot-holes that are multiplying from winter's wet as I reluctantly rode to the front for duty in Ford Rd, 20 clicks worth of headwind hurt reaching Grahamvale Rd, spent.
Kudos from Kel was kind as I recovered from the (self) flagellation at the front, but it didn't revive rubber legs!  That was my bit done, it was the rear for me knowing the big guns were loading the Wanganui Rd ammunition.  MyRideTrev exited via Numrkah Rd, TrekTrev, Kel, Superman, Shorty and I hanging onto the tail as the lines thinned for the thrash to the hill.

Rocket had emptied his big tank, Wozza and Boof bolted, but most were just glad to reach Rudd Rd alive.

A few called caution for the Canterbury Rd roundabout (off camber, smooth as Wozza's head  and with a drizzle of damp) but Bruce was caught out with a touch too much tempo, lost grip and hit the deck.  All halted fearing (and feeling) the worst, Bruce gingerly nursing the left shoulder painted a grim picture.  Leah and car came to the rescue (news later of an x-ray's all clear was a happy ending) so the solemn spin to the Lemontree contemplated the likelihood of a crash (proportional to the distance covered?), two fingernails worth of traction hitting home at times like these.  The things you see on big rides, repairing Peugeot's and brass beds kept tongues tattling while fighting over heater position at breakfast, walkers Sim, Jen, Mrs.Pistol and the convalescing Tina joining the talk.

3/9 Monday's motivator. 

The southerly ripped through the base layer Monday morning (me thinks Spring may be a long time coming), a change of ride routine (as good as a holiday?) meant Goats were dropped for the more timely Couldabeens.  PistoPete, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Pelly, The Godfather, Kreeky, Kel, Bo, Cate and CatCol (arriving at the third stroke of six we thought it was Nev)  

Into the darkness of Channel Rd's 4 degrees, the speed wound up beyond the level of peace but under the threshold of pain, idle chat on the weekend's past-times a good diversion from the imminent work to be done on the front.  Blood and bone from the vegetable patches filled the nostrils (but it didn't fertilise any more performance), CatCol alongside kept my wheels humming to the S bend, Kreeky beside me to Boundary Rd was suffering in silence (just back from Bali and paying the temperature tax).  The southerly propelled our passage north but Kel and Cate were content to be towed along in the draft, Pelly's peaking in performance (FDC's take note, commitment will get you places!), CatCol's cassette was causing clatters and not-so-newAvantJohn has dragged himself off the indoor trainer.  Over Old then New Dookie Rd, then either side of the railway's rumble strips (less fillings be shaken from teeth), another turn was almost upon me (but without a tailwind assistant).

Pelly called it quits at the main eastern channel so I had CatCol to pace for what seemed like an eternity to Lemnos Rd, his determination reaching the level of my stubbornness to see the shift end.  Kreeky drove into Ford Rd like he hadn't holidayed, my dying breaths warned him of the tarmac traumas ahead just before I took the supressed gasps of recovery in his tow (I was well worn by the work but pleased with the pace held for 3 k's)  PistolPete and not-so-newAvantiJohn kept the huffs and puffs happening (and Cate and Kel confined to the caboose) to Ford Rd's end, the Wanganui workout still to come.  Bo and Pelly were getting carried away with cadence approaching DECA, all drawing to Indian file behind.  Pelly, left out to dry at the test track, earned my sympathy for a tow, I managed to reach the base of  Mt Wanganui before PistolPete, The Godfather, Bo and not-so-newAvantiJohn put my effort down a rung or three by drawing away up the hill.  Still, I managed all my turns and I haven't dipped to Softa's level of extinction so that's a good Monday motivator.

4/9  Refridgeriders.

Ever so slowly the numbers rise to ride as Spring end the hibernation for some.  Carl was a surprise addition at Friars on Tuesday, joining Tum, Manny, Cate, Phil, Dipper, Amy and Belly.  Carl drove a good turn to Dobson's estate considering his lengthy lay-off, handing the helm to me for the second leg.  One degree chilled fingers, toes and other bits cutting the air at the frosty front, but it helped the hurry to Central Ave.
Manny had a case of the variable velocities toward Boundary Rd (quite the yo-yo effect on the back), Amy (fresh off a hot 70.3) drove well and Phil (in fine fettle) forged on to Boundary Rd . Carl's elbow signalled my turn again at the Broken bridges, the hint of  a decline for 50 meters inspiring the 2k drive to River Rd.  Cate poured on the power for the way west, Tum seconded the motion but Amy's tempo was tested for her term in the drivers seat (an elephant stamp for effort where many would have remained at the rear)  Again, I was in the perfect position to soak up the draft from 7 for River Rd's 6k, starting the 10k short-cut homeward with Cate fairly fresh.

The chill bit hard as Tuesday's first rays lit behind us on the truck route, but it's that great time of year when a scenic sunrise sets the mood for the day,  our hearts bleeding for those sleeping-in and minus the motivation to ride, not!




5/7  A prodigious peloton.

Spring has finally brought out more endangered species, Whispering Jack, Kenworth, even Ralphy made rare sightings in the Wednesday car park.   And Rocket, PistolPete, Kreeky, CatCol, Cate, not-so-newAvantiJohn, The Godfather, Kel, Bo, Shorty, Superman, TrekTrev, Nev, MyRideTrev, Boof and Mark made the grid full for the first time in months.  The NNE'er incited my early shift to wriggle out of the headwind hassles to come, so I slotted in behind not-so-newAvantiJohn for a turn in leg three.  I ignored the Rule #86 infringements all the way to Mitchell Rd, at least PistolPete remained level, albeit at a taxing tempo.  There was no way I'd make it to Central Kialla at this rate alive, so called the roll for Kreeky to see if he could keep up.  Mark, The Godfather and Nev drove the northern leg to River Rd, the rubber band syndrome hitting the rear ranks hard as 18 separate reactions tried to catch the front on the swing to the east.

A handbrake was applied over the bridge when Superman suffered the speed in the drivers seat, but his bacon was saved as CatCol, Bo, The Godfather and Boof supplied the tow and piled on the performance.  Shielded from the hurt of Boundary Rd's wind by Rocket and not-so-newAvantiJohn, I was back at the effort end for Channel Rd, the burnout mushrooms (big heads, little stalks) having shredded rubber and wire to the point of Dunlop death across the tarmac.  (surprised nobody punctured).   I rolled across at the S bend where Pistol pickled me to Beckham's bend, the will to reach Jameson Rd was there but legs ranted for retirement.   Surprise, surprise, Superman and Ralphy went forward for duty in Central Ave like lambs to the slaughter, Nev and Mark setting the speed to Prentice Rd that popped Superman ota.  Any thoughts of poor performance was soon squashed when I looked back, half a dozen lights half a k in arrears gave consolation to the ChaCha's hurt.

6/7  Just ride FFS!

The pitter patter of precipitation and the pings of pulling out on What'sApp only presented opportunity on Thursday, the chance to keep the k's clicking and feed the addiction. Expecting zero fronting Friars found Cate ready and reading the rule #9 riot act, so we settled on a short circuit of Old Dookie, Boundary and Channel Rd to satisfy the satiable and clock kudos (or to be labelled loony!)  Tip-toeing the shiny streets to exit town, the water spray began to soak kit, specs and socks (and I didn't want to think about the state of the bike), some consolation dredged from the fact that showers had now downgraded to drizzle.  We took turns to fight the northeaster (11-20 km/h), hoping the way south and west wold be kinder.  Remembering Bruce's horizontal hospitalisation we steered sedately into Boundary Rd, the wind now helping instead of hindering.  Dramas of the damp diminished (I get wetter in the bathroom) and was weirdly enjoying the drive to the highway.  West into Channel Rd was helped with shelter from the orchards (that remain), landmarks forgotten over the dark days of winter suddenly now visible in Spring's early light.  The channels in the ChaCha were at high tide but we'd steered the high road homeward for a satisfying spin despite the soggy socks.

7/7  Eat. Sleep. Ride. Repeat.

Another coffee, a relaxed recline on the couch and read the paper would be nice.....but I slapped myself out of the BeerMat syndrome and got on the bike!  TrekTrev, The Godfather, PistolPete, Liam, MyRideTrev, Rocket, CatCol, Trav, Wozza, Trish, Boof and Mark had contemplated Rule #5 too and fronted for Friday's Couldabeens circuit.
Wozza got us down to business on Archer Rd, the bunch collecting Superman at the city's limit.  Happy to slip down the left line and wait for the natural promotion forward today, besides the wind had about faced from Wednesday to help us in River Rd.  A west southwester was gradually drying a damp track but I was kicking myself for cleaning the bike last night.  In numbers almost befitting a bunch, Pussycats worked west (goaded by The Godfather's greetings), I'd been finally promoted to the front to pair with Boof for the last leg before Boundary Rd,  a short Coggo-less pain train of 3 slogging south (suffering against the wind for most of their clockwise course).

 Nudging the 40's toward the Broken bridges, I had a 2013 flashback to the squeals of protest when averages went beyond 32, most have come a long way eh?  As early as Channel Rd's S bend I'd committed myself to the caboose, something needed to be saved for Sunday's 115k, besides attempting Liam and Pistol's drive at 38 into the wind would take up too much time with my therapist.  Safely at the back of the bunch when the pace peaked for the ChaCha, I was drawn along in the draft without blowing a head gasket, the sun's earlier rise behind building hopes of hotter days to come.

Week 36    234km           YTD  9,524km