Post #496
20/4 Sedateday.
Easing earlier away and gently on the accelerator in the early hours of Saturday helped the sluggish engine, it's a little lax in warming up of late. TrekTrev, TatPaul, Nev, Rocket, Cate, Determined Dan, TatMat, MyRideTrev, Wozza, Boof, Kel, Vince, Travis, Bo, PistolPete, Temple, Liam and Kreeky turned up to prove that Easter holidays couldn't tame the turn-up. MyRideTrev, by fortune of fronting first on the grid, did the first shift sedately south on Archer Rd, the two row formation out of town putting a bit more perk in the pace. Wozza had all the winter layers on, I'd braved a single base layer for 9 degrees and here's TatMat sleeveless and TatPaul gloveless, weird how we all have a different temperature tolerance. Temple, Travis and Liam were content in the caboose as others rolled the turns, the social sentence swapping between the rows now well underway, almost as important as the ride itself. Vince was relishing a work-free Saturday, Determined Dan driving a long turn, the speed steadily climbing to River Rd as the cream rose to the top again.
A blank screen told me my Garmin was taking a nap, so swung off line for a moment to wake it (it's that craving for clocking k's again). Once upon a time there were squeals of protest at 33 (that could be heard for weeks after) and here we are nudging 40 along River Rd, fitter and fortuitously faster (and factionally free). Rocket and Wozz silenced the squad with even more speed to the pub, which instantly shortened my expected effort as next to face the music. My contribution was a bit brief but importantly kept the rhythm, grateful of an early slow (for traffic) before swinging east to toward the Toaster.
Over the rail-line of Pine Lodge North Rd and the sun hoisted above the horizon, warning of ever shortening days. Let's see where next weeks sun-up happens. There was cornering caution at the Big Ring for the Cats crossing our path, Rocket and Wozza strangely sitting on for our way west back to town (maybe the Friday night hydration session had supressed the driving desire?) Into Wanganui Rd and steaming toward DECA, I was expecting a surprise sprint from the rear but nothing materialised, strange that a sprint-free Saturday had satisfied or has the cool calmed the competition? Even the 'bolt to breakfast' was breathable, rolling to the Lemontree for coffee and chat on resting heart rates, mid year bike events and point of difference. (Seems the pedestrian faction stole a few regulars from the table to another venue)
22/4 Eroding Easter's egg excess.
Humidity steamed the specs to the carpark on Monday, overnight rain settling the dust and heightening humidity to 100%. TrekTrev, Rocket, Boof, Cate, Wozza, Bruce, Kreeky, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Shorty, Kenworth, Pistol Pete, TatMat, TatPaul, Grumpy and new-comer Joe made a satisfying squad of starters for a (different) Karramomus circuit, a change as good as the holiday? The usual southerly escape via Archer Rd and the standard easterly effort along Mitchell Rd was stirred with a southerly steer onto Central Kialla-Euroa Rd, driving into the darkness. Senses sharpened with holler of "Slow!", kangaroos by the roadside on a temperamental trajectory causing a controlled calamity.
Finding Karramomus Rd in the dark kept eyeballs busy, then busier to avoid more 'roos at the tabledrain. I took on a shift beside Joe (surprisingly smooth) but he called an early roll with a respiratory deficiency, TatPaul rolling long and strong to make my contribution feel a little more worthy. TatMat (chasing challenges?) paired at pace with Rocket, but soon signalled another slow for a solitary skippy roadside. Back on the gas, the pack stretched to the point of polite protests of "easy", the Couldabeens crew compliant (just 'cause it's not Tuesday or Thursday?) Noses north on the Shepp-Euroa Rd and Joe jumped to the up-line out of sequence, unaware of the peloton's protocols (but there again, nobody had read him the rules), a manic moment when his wheel was millimetres from calamity with Kreeky caused a few to offer advice on safe distance. It's time like these when you appreciate the syncronicity among familiar faces. A whisp of an east northeaster didn't hold back the hurry, I nearly questioned the Garmin's accuracy seeing 42 on the screen.
Back onto familiar ground of Boundary Rd the shifts had shortened a little, each doing their bit till muscular (or mental?) limits called a roll. Beside Bo to the Broken bridges then with TatPaul to Channel Rd, I thought I did well till Rocket and TatMat's hurry humiliated mine. Bruce made an intermission with a puncture just beyond Hill Rd, sledging in full swing till his repair allowed a remount. Westward to Ford Rd and the restart had shuffled me to Kenworth's dream draft, but wattage was wanted once out of his tow. TatPaul paired with me to Verney Rd, thereafter I tucked into the tow for whatever workout Wanganui had to offer. Tempo turned up as not-so-newAvantiJohn and Kreeky captained the front, but a faster faction (guess who?!) launched toward the hill. Bo set off in wishful pursuit as Kreeky was elected saviour for the survivors and left hung out at the front to dry, his flapping elbow ignored. I took sympathy and took the role of tow truck to the hill, Shorty and Kenworth coming forward to share the load. A brief calm collected the crew and a restrained roll through the roundabout (as slippery as a politician selling a second-hand policy) then a solid commute to coffee for chat on poor parking and kitting for the cold.
23/4 The dedicated few.
The dedicated are dwindling, Cate pulled the pin and I knew Grumpy's "in" would be an "out" as I rolled out the driveway (it's in the FDC's DNA!) So, five minutes in arrears, I set off to catch the 5:40 train, figuring using short-cut via the truck route might intercept them. Not a red led in sight on Archer Rd's four kilometres put my nose to the headstem, a right old buffeting from oncoming trucks then turned to River Rd, to find the 5:40's. I'd almost resigned to the psychosis of a solitary spin till lights appeared from Central Kialla, Bo, PistolPete and Kel, line astern, far better than riding with my own thoughts! Bo built the speed steadily to the bridge, not letting go of the lead till the dip, making me wonder if I'd match the speed and the smoothness of this trio. PistolPete provided the pace to River Rd's end (and he says he's not fit!) with the sky donating just enough drips to deliberate a drowning (but the drops soon stopped) Kel's svelte speed is a delight to draft, being free of fluctuation makes the pace of little consequence. My turn to measure up came at the bridges and it was easier to fix focus on the cadence and let the velocity look after itself, no complaints on the handover at the pub tells me I got something right. Back into the tow as Bo drove north, recovery came quickly to me for a change and 90 rpm wasn't melting the muscles. I'll thank the smoothness for that. Bo had no dramas driving to Old Dookie Rd and PistolPete had power aplenty to reach Central Ave. Kel took the reigns toward Dobson's estate and for a moment I thought she'd drag us to town but her elbow said otherwise, so mine was the shift to finish in town and steer toward coffee.
24/4 Murder on a marshmallowing Michelin.
That squishy sensation in the seat sank hopes en-route to Wednesday's ride, thankfully Cate arrived to participate in the pitstop and text the bunch of a late eta. I found the shard of glass when blood poured from my finger but fixed the flat post haste to hot-foot it, huffing & puffing to the grid by 6:02. Boof, Rocket, Kreeky, Kenworth, Shorty, PistolPete, Wozza, Bo, BamBam, Kel, Superman, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Nick, Liam and The Godfather had kindly waited, the bolt south along Archer Rd quite tame after the rush to reach the carpark. I sat in the sequence of the down-line for the natural progression forward, the marshmallowed Michelin murder on the muscles. (the CO2 had barely managed 60psi) PistolPete, Bo and The Godfather advanced as I was demoted to the tail, BamBam and Kel having reserved seating in the caboose. A mix of long and short shifts made forecasts of an appearance at the front fairly fickle, the hitherto heavenly handling of the Baum was now like steering a Stavic on Black & Gold brand tyres. Nick's wheel was fine to follow but one fiend was freewheeling to vary the velocity (perhaps I've been spoiled by the Tuesday smoothie?) Convinced the tyre was losing pressure ('cause catching the wheel ahead wanted wattage at the intersections), the bunch banter distracted the pessimist in the pre-frontal cortex. A calm covered the crew at Channel Rd's S bend for Rabbit Row, our sharpened sight now spotting wildlife at 80 paces. Shorty and Nick towed us to the cypress trees and I paired with Nick to Central Ave, Cate came forward but foot faulted pulling the left shoe from it's perch. The rolls turned frequent and fast to Hopeful corner, 18 hurtling to the ChaCha. Wozza, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Liam and Boof drew into the distance with the bunch thinned behind, all my energy expended pushing a soft tyre across the line.
25/4 Lest we forget.
A solemn start Thursday with Bruce, TrekTrev, Kenworth, Bo, Shorty, Cate, Kreeky, Rocket, Temple, Col, Wozza, Superman, PistolPete and Grumpy attending the Anzac memorial service.
The lap after had a cool commencement clockwise to the golf course, me poorly layered for 10 degrees. I kept the revs up in the hope of raising the temperature, enviously eyeing the long gloves and leg warmers while castigating my choice of thin kit. Rocket and PistolPete set a swift standard to Ford Rd, nice to enjoy the scenery in the sunlight, albeit blurred. Shorty, Bo, Kenworth and Kreeky tapped their turns, my shift in Ford Rd (with TrekTrev then Col) felt the energy evaporating under a weight of expectation. The swing south into Boundary Rd caught a few unaware, Superman suffering from oxygen deprivation facing the front and its southwest breeze. No such problem as Pistol and Rocket resumed the captaincy and no problem with the temperature as my concentration focussed purely on keeping up. The last bit of Boundary and the first bit of River burned up the bulk of my breakfast as the slight southwester strengthened, but a few had now slipped back to the survival seats, raising my rank turns to reasonable. The price to pay was that shifts came around a bit sooner, and I was banking on every second of recovery I could get (happy then that Wozza, Rocket and Pistol's turns went on and on and on)
Keeping up with TrekTrev in Mitchell Rd consumed the calories quickly, an ever so subtle uphill not helping, then sustaining the speed with Col called on psychological stubbornness. Overpowering an early surrender for the second time, I'd set a target to reach Archer Rd and it looked like I'd make it till Col called an early roll. Plans to take an Archer Rd turn to town hadn't reached the front, so all followed the leaders for a Raftery Rd completion. Liam and Travis had arrived from Archer Rd and joined in the turns (buying me back some recovery time) although the average amplified as a consequence. My donation to the driving had become rather Scottish by Arcadia Downs, 500 metres was about max, so it was a relief to be in the draft for Conrod straight (and the sprint struck off the register) Ah, but the Hare's habit of the hurry home saw 40 most of the way to breakfast, that justified extra fuel for the tank and the caffeine infusion.
25/4 Friday's fourteen.
Natures' call beat the Friday alarm by 20 minutes, so rather than blunting the brain on Fb, the mantra of 'just ride f.f.s!' motivated me out the door at 5:25. Raftery Rd redeemed the early call to crank, a light northwester assisting the passage south on Conrod straight while warily watching for wildlife. None appeared. (What's that Skip? Moved north for Winter?) Down to Mitchell and across to Archer, the north leg back to town wasn't so traumatic, tempo was reasonable considering the breeze was building, to intercept at Sanctuary's roundabout with 13 southbound Couldabeens. Bruce, Kel, Rocket, Liam, Kreeky, Wozza, Nick, Shorty, Travis, Col, TrekTrev, Bo and P vanP filtered past and I caught the caboose to enjoy the tow till duty called. The call of "bike back" sedated the speed but I could only see darkness on a peek behind, the calm cooling the heels of the hurried.
Rewind to the days of old, but minus the stinging squeals of "slow down!" Sociology took the place of speed to River Rd (Hurt Locker m.i.a.) as I prepared for duty at the front. Deja vu TrekTrev ahead and Col behind, the pace had picked up to the high 30's standards, from the bridge to the dip with TrekTrev then with Col for a k as the Cats crossed our path, clothed in new kits. (The jury deliberating 'don't like' in this camp) The caboose gained in popularity, particularly with those part-time pedalers, I rejoined our eight providing pace as five Goats plied the train of pain south on Boundary Rd. P vanP was on his second road ride for the year, TrekTrev's click, click was wood-peckering his wits, and Kreeky was calm behind Liam (knowing he was banking horsepower for the weekend and not spending it today) A little breeze at the brow in Channel Rd quickly converted me to a caboose sitter but speed stayed at a simmer as two rows worked toward the ChaCha. The sprint was strangely supressed again, rare to have two constrained rows in formation crossing the line with many talking rather than gasping. If this gets out we'll get record numbers next time!
Week 17 : 273km YTD 4,522km
No comments:
Post a Comment