Week 47 : When minds align.

Post #474
17/11  Two ton Tat lap.

I found myself in a study of peculiar preparations at the Tat200 start line, some scoffing bacon burgers and guzzling Gatorade, bikes with strange set-ups and saddle suitcases, XXL blokes squeezing into XL lycra, others oiling chains and adjusting seat height.  Maybe this distraction was to ignore the wind (S-SSE at 26 to 37 km/h) and all the work to be done into it?  A great team of Boof, Coggo, TatMat, Col, Cate, TatPaul, Tina, Jase and Determined Dan had signed on for the 200, Manny, Sandy, Hommie & Joey in for the 100.  And with BigBen, lil'Tony, Sherls, Eggy, Indy, Oscar & bro, Gawny and MachineSteve in the ranks, hopes were pinned on getting into an experienced bunch to share the workload.  Flagged away a bit after 7, the horsepower hit the front and hit the gas into the 40's on Dhurringile Rd, sorting wheat from chaff early.  A long thin tail hung on in desperation into Toolamba Rd, and with a lot of the crew caught in it, I hung back to work with them.  TatMat and Boof had dropped back to join too, but long sections of loose stones, riders with questionable techniques and the plank gaps of the Toolamba bridge turned up the caution control.   Things soon settled into something resembling rhythm and it was comforting to settle into the drivers seat with the known quantities of the Couldabeens.

TatMat played sock police as light entertainment as a string of survivors hung on the back (many stealing a free tow for the 100) though some snuck through to the up-line.  Several found kaboom! at the front or even second wheel,  freewheeling in fright and ruining rhythm (so much wear and tear on the brake pads). A halt was called at Pine Lodge church for fluids in and out, then back to business to work west back to Shepp.  A few still insisted on advancing to the front with little left to contribute, many toward the rear sticking their wheels where they didn't belong, creating a dogs breakfast at back.    A few choice words with those who couldn't hold a line and formed a third and fourth row, venting the vernacular at one twatwaffle who stuck his front wheel under my left leg in desperation for a draft (funny when the draft was to my right)   Back into Shepp we'd sorted the desperados from the drivers with a solid spin on The Boulevard, across to Mooroopna and northwest to Ardmona, Coggo, Boof, Manny, TatMat, Cate, TatPaul, Jase, Tina and Determined Dan smoothed the speed and sensibility, the tough stuff toward Tat shared with rolling turns, even The StravaStalker did his 1st turn (swallowing a wombat has done nothing for his aerodynamics!).  A few surgers violated the velocity infecting low 30's with spurts of 40 to put many in struggle street, a k of curses and the speed soon smoothed, a dozen driving into Tat for the lunch break at 10:20.

One big bunch departed for the second ton, the highest horsepower leading the way north and east to Ardmona with that usual long skinny tail of survivors behind.  Wind wore down some warriors to weaklings heading east, some slipping off the back en-route to Mooroopna.  The hurt of the headwind lay in wait as we steered toward Murchison Rd, traffic lights splitting the bunch at the highway.  There was consolation being with Boof, Col, Coggo, TatMat, Cate, TatPaul, Determined Dan and Jase to share the toil, a few passengers hanging on of little consequence (or contribution!).  31 k's into the SSE'er (gusting to 37 km/h) told me single file suited, so I took the risk to call it.  TatMat opened with a super long turn, Boof an equally long follow-up to set the speed scenario.  Each had their own contribution whether long or short, a strong sense of teamwork fuelling the fire at the front even though the legs protested (far better to be in pain in a pack than suffering solo).  K by k the limpets dropped by the wayside, others ejected from the bunch ahead being collected into our crew.  The distance was steadily whittled down to reach Murch, a brief halt taken to fill bottles and top up tanks before pointing toward Rushworth.

Young Josh (15) joined us for a while, a commendable effort for a maiden 200.  Single filed still, the 18k west was made easy with the wind almost behind us, keeping a constant tempo trimming the crew to Coggo, Boof, TatPaul, Cate, TatMat, Col and Jase.  A quick stop at Rushy to water the horse then we set sail on the 27k northeast back to Tat, though working against the southeaster made speed and steering a struggle.  There was a fight to find shelter in the last two berths, so I strangely found the front fairer, almost getting a second wind thanks to the smooth shifts of others.  That long straight drag of the last 10k passed faster than expected, Tatura finally into view but the odometer said 198.2km.  Nothing to do but to roll a block or two to cross the line with two ton neat, then enjoy the ale and fellowship of a true team effort. As always, a very well run event, great food and awesome support from the Ulysses lads as our eyes and ears at intersections and turns.

19/11 The Poppa-less peace.

Protests from the posterior were soon drowned out by the leg's lament, back on the bike Monday and Saturday's 200 memories came flooding back.  I ruminated on Rule #5 all the way to the car park, finding Rocket, Cobbles, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Cate, Wozza, Kel, Bo and Bruce frisky for the 5:45 lap.  I was perfectly positioned at the rear to be towed by 8, the speed steadily climbing out Channel Rd finding the sting in the soleus and pain in the peroneus. At least I'd get a warm-up before duty called at the front.  The pack was peculiarly peaceful minus The Godfather's garble, Cobbles about to holiday USA, Rocket another year older but certainly not slower, and not-so-newAvantiJohn and Cate triumphant from tackling the Tat200.
Kel was kind as I paired on the cypress trees to the S bend leg, but my legs were buckling by Darth Vader's place to call Wozza over for some reprieve.  Recovery was lethargic in Boundary Rd, not until the fig farm did some sense of strength return.  A collection of cruising Cats slowly spun
 south as Rocket and Cobbles sliced into the northeaster (13-20 km/h) on our way to New Dookie Rd.  I willed all willpower on Bruce and Bo to do a long shift north and save me from the headwind  heartache, Kel saving Foss's fate by driving to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  The way west had some work with the wind at the right shoulder, though I made it to the bridge for the turn to roll.  The effort eased when Wozza gave a slim shelter pairing alongside, possible now to make it to Lemnos North Rd without a hernia.  Such a difference today after Saturday's shemozzle on Ford Rd, an organised and smooth squad making the task a treat.  Rocket and Cobbles worked the long length of Wanganui Rd, The Boulevard slowly turning back into the wind making the last k's cruel (though the memory of the murder to Murchison two days ago should put pain into perspective)

20/11  Grading Goats.

A mild morning drew all grades of Goats to Friars, even Baz and BrotherAndrew had halted hibernation to turn up.  Coggo, Jen, Phil, Heady, AvantiLeigh, AvantiAndy, Snow, HG, Speissy, Cate Belly and Tina filled the footpath as 6am approached, Baz being bold leading the team through town.  I drew alongside for a social sentence but he immediately retreated rearward (me thinks it's a case of sluggish not snobbish).  Phil and I inherited the first shift as JB and DeepFry added to the pack, no work from HG, BrotherAndrew and Baz though (tapering for a Christmas lunch ride maybe?)   The speed was constrained by a northeaster but Boundary Rd made up for the delay.  Funny how a breeze behind boosts the bravado, the speed quite spicy for a painless train Tuesday.  The caboose keeping lookout arose in the chat, seems Monday's peace train had a close shave that peaked a few heart rates.  Over the highway and my second shift was due, the glance back noting a few from the caboose now missing in action.  13 swung into River Rd, the front positioned to the crown of the road delivering the draft to bikes behind.  I had no luck being towed to the end, another turn beckoned nearing Laws Drive (but contributing to the cause is an essential ingredient of teamwork)  A k at pace emptied a lot from the tank and there was bound to be more work on the shortcut to Shepp (I can count on Cate's cajolery).  We bid adieu at Central Kialla Rd to turn to the truck route, the tail wind incentive turning up the velocity.  To Archer Rd post haste, we rounded up BamBam (who declined to be aboard) before a painful push home wrung out the legs (although amped up the endorphins)

21/11  The Wednesday westerly.

Wednesday's weather threw us a westerly for a little velo variety, The Godfather, PistolPete, Kenworth, Tina, Rocket, Cate, Boof, Nick and Nev turning up to tap but surprisingly, an early edition was extinct (the 3am shower a turn-off?)  Still smarting from Saturday's slog, I avoided the up-line till duty called, hoping my shift would be blessed by a breeze up the bum! Nick then Tina's turns shortened in Central Kialla to put me on the front for the last 200 before trying to match Cate on the first leg of River Rd (energy and enthusiasm erasing Rule #86) Rocket and Boof were in the hot seat by the bridge and towed the team to Boundary Rd ('cause they can!), just a solitary Sly spinning west (pussycats, '51 and Goats all imitating a ride on Zwift?)

  Anointed up the inner thigh by the occasional puddle sharpened the inhalation, the bunch dragged up Boundary Rd by Rocket and PistolPete (holidays haven't hampered his hurry) to turn into the wind at Channel Rd for the work homeward.  Nick and Tina sat cemented into the caboose, giving me The Godfather's wheel to draft but being promoted to the pain at the pointy end.  I need to surmount all this sooking so sucked up the suffering and got over it, keeping head down and cadence up beside The Godfather to Central Ave for Cate then Boof and Rocket to take on the ChaCha.  Long puddles where all hell normally breaks loose shut down thoughts of a sprint, but all that wattage at the front kept jaws from flapping till slowing at the school for the socialosophy.

22/11  Bitten by the badass bug.
A cool 10 degrees and a fresh north northwester would thin Thursday's Goats down to the dedicated, so there was a certain surety spinning to Friars for the 6am circuit.  Coggo, Tina, Phil, Sandy, Cate and Hommie turned up for the tap, so I had no qualms when they queued behind to exit town.

Belly was berthed in the JB position at SPC and jumped aboard, a standard of smoothness set in stone with the call for Indian file.  I set my aim at Dobson's and wound up the old engine, taking a stab at the speed being suitable.  No protests at 38 so I soldiered on to the bridge, an elbow handing Cate the helm. It was beaut' to join the back berthed in Belly's bulk draft to settle the heart rate, Sandy and Tina did their best (as always) to School Rd where Hommie hauled us to Boundary.  Phil's quicker cadence towed us to the bridge for Coggo to hurry to the highway, there's much to be said for the syncronicity when minds align and the comfort level's at the max cranking k's with familiar cyclusts. Belly nudged the 40's toward the Broken bridges, my shift threading the thin line between puddles and passing cars, feeling the weight of responsibility in the drivers seat to safely steer those behind blinded by my bum.  Stacked across River Rd in echelon, Sandy soundly served the 'car back' warnings as five drove the distance west, my luck to get the last k playing tow truck as the wind whipped us from the north.  I felt fairly flat for the shortcut to Shepp, but I tore along the truck route bitten by the badass bug (a false sense of security with the wind somewhat behind us) but the head wind hurt on Archer Rd to bring badass back to battlers. Legs had gone to jelly into town, but something strange tempts us to do it again next time....only faster!

23/11  Tailwind trophies and headwind hernias.

Lethargy almost welded me in bed on Friday, but I swallowed an anti BeerMat tablet and hit the road 5 minutes early to bring a reluctant pair of legs up to operating temperature.  The Godfather, TrekTrev, Jen, Superman, Nev, Kel, PistolPete, Liam, Bo, Travis and Tina braved the wicked west- southwester (26+ km/h) to front for Friday's foray, Pistol's opening salvo spiking speedo's into the 40's for the tailenders.  Nev and Bo had the tail end in the gutter as the dozen tore down to the truck route, the early edition (Grumpy, Col, Wozza, Rocket, Kreeky and Bruce) about facing to boost the ranks.  Many had already reserved seats in the caboose as velocity had heart rates hurrying along Mitchell Rd but I joined the up-line guessing my term at the front would be blessed by the tail wind.  Turns rolled through Central Kialla while Bo and Nev argued the line to follow, my shift beside Travis to the bridge and with The Godfather to the dip escalating into the 40's.

Ah, the tailwind trophies we'd be treated too! The Godfather's sledges saturated the atmosphere, Wozza whipping up the tempo silenced him (for a few seconds anyway).  Cruisers, Cats and '51 were all Indian filed westbound, some scowling to sterner standards walloped by the wind.  
The pain train failed to appear (failed to launch) as we kept chains on little cogs up to Channel Rd, the work into the wind now a rigorous reality.   I felt confident joining the long up-line that another go at the front was unlikely, but turns rolled rapidly as the gusts (41 km/h) turned would-be tigers to turtles.  Around Kinder corner and down to Hopeful, Pistol and Nev did the hard yards to Prentice Rd where even Boof was blown backwards.  With barely 20 meters to go I scored the front for a second or two but the Godfather came around me when I hit the limit, thank heavens Wozza had timed his turbo to a tee to take the win by a wheel (and saved us all from the gall of The Godfather's gloat!)

Week 47    390 km     YTD 12,583 km