Week 13 : Hardening up for the ups.

Post #492
23/3  A west coast workout.

A northeast exit of Strahan pointed me toward Zeehan, flatter than my northwest course chosen Friday (toward Queenstown) but wind made sure the ride wasn't going to be cruisy.  The road twisted through scrubland and soon speared through the forest, gentle rises accompanied by a head wind of course!  Hometown speeds are proving impossible in these parts, so I've come to ignore the speed and measure effort by a high heart rate and legs hollering for mercy.  Saturday and solo seemed so foreign (none of that bunch babble to soak up, only myself to listen to!) but the luxury of a lap should be taken at any opportunity, especially when rain looms on the radar.  My aim was to reach the Henty river, so was somewhat chuffed to get there with time to spare, onward said the competitive side of the cranium but the long Mt Dundas reserve climb lay in wait to give me something to grizzle about.

2k's uphill at 8% had a 20km/h headwind as a brutal bonus, a big slice of banana walnut and date toast (as a promised finishing trophy back in town) my only motivation to reach the top. The little ring was put to work (and there weren't a lot of sprockets left to help), a huff, a puff and curse (or three) finding the crest to U-turn for town.  The effort up felt ordinary till my descent showed 58 km/h, but gusts of wind whipping sideways at the wheels and a few roadside wallabies (live ones!) prompted a slow for survival.  22k's of tarmac back had only a few forest tracks intersecting, the few moderate rises on the return weakened by the wind behind me. Light on the horizon helped the confidence but my mind on that finishing trophy drove a decent pace back to Strahan.  Few were stirring in town (missing an inspiring sunrise) but I found the Coffee Shack open with a blissful brew and my trophy toast tasty!

27/3  Tassie's testing temperature.

Rain restricted riding for a few days in Van Diemen's Land, Rule #9 even ignored with Strahan winds of 60-90 km/h!  South in Huonville and Wednesday's weather was dry, though Tassie's temperature tested me at 2 degrees.  Three days off the bike and the craving to crank was at a peak, so I was off toward Cygnet on the B68 with knee warmers and gloves with fingers to get some sought after cycle satisfaction.  The now familiar ups ad downs of the tarmac put the chain up the cassette and laboured lungs, the narrow strip of road snaking the shoreline of the Huon river and climbed steadily to Woodstock.  That pungency of expired wallaby and brush-tailed possum at the roadside kept the velocity up, the only traffic to contend with oncoming.

Through Woodstock and on toward Cradoc, the road turned inland, a little sharper now on the ascents had hopes pinned on decent descents.  The little ring was employed again, prior grizzles about temperature now a distant memory...…...till the downhills!  Moments at 50 km/h relived those winter woes but it inflated the ego after the prior pedestrian progress.  Into Cygnet as the town slept, I pressed on to Lymington for want of a few extra k's, first light illuminating the massed mooring of boats.  With time and the tarmac due to run out, I u-turned head back to Cygnet, throwing a revision via the C369 to Glazier's Bay.  Elevation is a mystery when planning a course on a 2D map, and so as luck would have it, the road took me on a hill to huff & puff on.  A couple of k's at 8-10% wrung out the enthusiasm, a labour of loss to the top to find a sharper, rougher and narrower descent the other side to put the squeeze on the brakes. The shoreline road back to Cradoc was almost as flat as home soil, a hint of a headwind brewing as I rejoined the B68 back to Huonville.  This road had barely a 200 mm edge to use, no hassles mixing it with the 8am car commuters however, each were courteously compliant.  I'd fluked rounding off 50k to finish, the rising sun now warming winter worn bones.

28/3  The Huon hurry-up.

Huonville's other southerly exit was on Thursday's to do list, the weather a whisker more co-operative at 4 degrees. That lack of temperature tempted tempo to warm up with wheels humming toward Franklin, passing rustic apple sheds one side and moored boats on the Huon the other.  I was the sole southerly traffic as earlybird commuters made their way north to work, having my own company to deal with as I rode bunch-less through Castle Forbes Bay (heaven forbid if I start singing to myself!)  It's been a big adjustment to stay satisfied with a slower speed for the past two weeks, no chance to hide in the draft of others and recover, just harden up for the ups and adjust the expectations accordingly.  Through Port Huon and further south, I'd made it to Geeveston (not a soul stirring) so pushed on to Cairns Bay, and of course an unknown long and laborious uphill awaited (just to make sure I earned breakfast)   First light beckoned in the distance to reach the peak, eventually at the top I was deprived of the scenic sunrise I'd hoped would reward me.  The good bit was the descent, despite the chill of the morning now cooler with the sun up.  Through Geeveston at a perkier pace than before, I'd missed the next wave of commuting cars so relished the hint of a draft when one or two passed me.  A nasal nirvana of cooking bacon wafted from the Port Huon Trading Post but I stoically steered onward, my target set on the date and walnut toast temptation awaiting back in Huonville.  Fog lay between the hills as I reached Franklin, oddly having a brewing northerly handbraking my pace.  Familiar landmarks now made the finish line effort measurable, the push back to town earning a DS coffee and toast treat.

29/3  Swansea serenity.

The Tassie east coast turned on tamer temperatures by Friday, Swansea's almost tropical at 16 degrees made a 45k ride a temperate treat.  I aimed at 9 mile beach (14.481 km beach doesn't have the same ring to it) in the early hours, hello darkness my old friend again where the Cat-Eye don't shine.  I'd missed the turn to Dolphin Sands and wound up on a dead-end drive (Swan River Rd) but I'd bagged a 7th overall as a bonus (yep, even in the boondocks folks are setting Strava segments)   Back tracking I found the road to Dolphin Sands, a thin and rough ribbon of tarmac between the dunes alongside 9 mile beach (though set back from the coast half a k)

Deafened by the serenity (apart from distant waves smacking the shores) in this beachside bliss, the struggling sun painting the sky to light the peaks of  Mt  Amos and The Hazards in Freycinet National Park.  Time regrettably u-turned me back, on wary wallaby watch along the Roubaix-like road that cuts through Dolphin Sands, the dead critter chicanes made easily avoidable with the sun now risen. A northerly was working me over till I reached the comfort of the A3's tailwind, propelling me back to Swansea to finish a somewhat shortened week.

Week 13      192km                  YTD: 3,549km