Post # 503
8/6 Saturday, sadly segregated.
Who'd make up the mix of the Saturday lap shuffled through the thoughts as I set south, it's that lucky dip of lads and lasses that puts the spice of variety in the ride. Lance, Boof, TatMat, PistolPete, GiantAndy, Kreeky, TatPaul, Tina, TrekTrev, Kel, Bruce, Bo, Travis, The Godfather and CatKel were the ride's ingredients, Boof and PistolPete hurtling into the habitual hurry to Sanctuary's roundabout, many strung out behind probably wondering if they'd survive, but the Saturday spin rarely drops it disciples. Most coming off driving duty grizzled at a struggle eastbound, I felt the battle too alongside Kreeky then Lance in River Rd's last k (yet the bureau called it calm), thoughts of the several k's of respite till next facing the front easing the legs pain. First light revealed a grey day, a small pack of Pusstcats had beaten us to the BigRing, our path west feeling the chill of an imminent sun up.
Travis won a few votes calming the pace but GiantAndy had to bid his adieu heading for early employment. Pistol and Boof turned the tempo back up in Ford Rd (preparing palpitations for Wanganui Rd?), I was pleased to have done my shift before the real rush started. Into town and over the highway, I was back at forth wheel when Bo lit the fuse at the transfer station, drawing away from a strangely silent Godfather. The bunch stayed united leaving Bo hung out to dry till Boof, Pistol and Travis kick started the sprint to the hill. I was in luck to hold Kreeky's wheel as the trailing train lost a few carriages to Mt Wanganui, but we'd regrouped in Rudd Rd for a considerate cruise on the Boulevard. A division at Mason St seemed a senseless segregation over café choice (au revoir seven years of social harmony?) only five seating at the Lemontree (though MyRideTrev, ScottMatt and KillkennyPaul swelled the numbers) for a yarn on the Pyrenees, gastric band surgery and burning banana bread.
10/6 A fickle forecast.
Monday's moist forecast cast a big shadow of disappointment, I'd observed my Sunday sabbath and the lust to lap was almost overwhelming in Monday's early hours, so a gap in the green on the 5am radar was like Christmas had come early. A sinister sky kept my effort up driving into the darkness of New Dookie Rd, though my pace was paltry with a north northeaster (20-32 km/h) supressing the speed to snail-like. The public holiday made the course car-less, nine k's east to the Pine Lodge Church to steer south and savour the tailwind (albeit briefly). The wind put the wobbles into Old Dookie Rd, back southbound on Boundary tempted a lot of tempo but I needed to bank some wattage for a likely headwind home. A little shelter on an empty River Rd made my line respectable for the six k's of tarmac west, I'd contemplated a short-cut home via the truck route but Rule #5 overrode that nonsense. Through Kialla Central and down to Mitchell Rd, I braced for the breeze at the brow that Archer Rd would deliver, the reality of steering north not so bad after all, just the right spin found on the close ratio cassette to get me to town, regrettably readying to work.
11/6 Champions of the chill.
Habit was the sole motivator to get me out the door on Tuesday, the 5:10 start for the sake of variety, certainly not to enjoy the three degree temperature! Thoughts of those softening souls that have already caved in to winters weather (won't they feel the sting in Spring!) stirred my speed on a foggy Ford Rd, loving the serenity of an abandoned strip of tarmac to contemplate Spartacus and Cindy suffering cycling Corsica and Tina touring Toulouse (some are doin' it tough!). South on Boundary and back to town via New Dookie Rd got me into a decent rhythm, fronting Friars to find a ripper roll-up of Coggo, Sandy, Snow, Hommie, AvantiLeigh, Phil, Heady and Dippa assembled for the 6am spin. Heady's habitual lead out of town handed the reigns to Sandy at the truck route, setting a suitable speed for nine to Indian file east. Hommie then AvantiLeigh led the way to Central Ave for my turn to reach School Rd, Coggo then dragging us to Boundary. Phil and Dippa sliced through Boundary Rd's fog but Snow was the man of motion driving a swift shift to the bridge. Great to see everyone donating to the cause, some more so than others but who's measuring at this time of year? AvantiLeigh towed me the first k of River Rd and ushered me to the drivers seat at the Angora Farm, my favourite stretch of smooth tarmac making the job a little easier and inspiring the drive to the dip. Back into the draft for recovery, Snow turned on the speed to finish River Rd, time for me to exit for a somewhat calmer nine k's home.
12/6 What wind?
Beating the bureau's prediction of precipitation was a bonus, but the tax was a strong northeaster (19-32 km/h) for Wednesday. My commuting k's to the carpark were tentative, legs had been Lester Ellis's training bag overnight, so I rolled gingerly ahead in Archer Rd to let the bunch catch me warmed up.
Boof, Bruce, Liam, Col, Rocket, MyRideTrev, Wozza, PistolPete, The Godfather, Travis, Bo, Superman, Kreeky, Laura and Joe swept through the truck route intersection, my bolt to catch the back of the bunch erasing the legs' lament. I found Laura at the back with a case of mind over muscles (the head wouldn't but the legs would), so an encouraging word was delivered to keep her aboard. Many faces were painted in pain as the pack bore east into Mitchell Rd's gusts, though those flushed with fitness (no prizes for guessing who!) had barely raised a sweat.
With MyRideTrev, Laura and Joe resigned to the rear seats, I joined the up-line behind Superman, preparing for the pain at the pointy end somewhere in River Rd. Superman called an early roll at Laws Drive (a long weekend on the coast hadn't helped his hurry) so part two was partnered with Col, though drawing top weight had handicapped his horsepower too. That driving duo (Rocket and Wozz) sentenced most to hard labour to Boundary Rd, Col now wrecked and retiring to the rear. I'd got lucky being on the sheltered side for Boundary Rd as the up-line battled the breeze up to Channel Rd, the turn west suddenly silent with the wind now behind us.
I'd just joined the up-line as the speed spiked toward the Kinder, Joe and Laura letting go of the caboose as PistolPete sped to Hopeful corner. The Godfather was silently searching for cover as Rocket hit the boost button at Prentice Rd, the bunch long and thin for the charge at the ChaCha. Time for traffic to pass at the truck route was spent in oxygen overload, the steady spin into town greeted by dark clouds looming to promise a damp day.
13/6 Winters welcome.
A damp road and a wintery westerly needed a quick reply to Tum's "anybody riding?", my thumbs up ensuring he didn't crawl back to bed (three weeks off the bike and he wasn't going to wriggle out of this one!) 40 psi was donated to a somewhat soft front tyre (hoping it would hold for the lap till repaired at leisure at night) then set off to find what Goats gathered.
Heady and Coggo had fronted Friars too, so as bastions to Rule #9, we got outta town on an unspoken but understood Indian file effort on Old Dookie Rd. Tum took the lead role crossing the truck route, I suffered the spasmodic spray from Heady's wheel (what better than to spend your winter evenings bringing the bike back to respectable) while Coggo sat as backstop. Tum's tempo survived for 800 metres before handing the hurt to Heady, a good effort considering the rarity of his riding. Heady got over the bridge and half way to Central Ave before his elbow said effort expired, so I stayed in the drivers seat till School Rd for Coggo to finish off Old Dookie. Tum started round two of turns in Boundary Rd though I wished he'd have got up the road to gift us some shelter.
Now at second wheel, I was watching Heady for signs of suffering as he battled toward the bridge, the shoulders dropped, a lower gear grabbed, twenty metres more then his elbow said enough. My measly 900 metres to the highway seemed shy of a decent shift, so set my target at Channel Rd as a changeover for Coggo to captain the crew. The reality of River Rd's headwind
brought us back to earth, the limits of labour were to be explored if we were to get back home before breakfast. Tum's tenacity was at a trickle a k down the road and Heady was hurting at half that (at least he's out having a go) so when I was handed the reins just shy of the Angora farm I went easy on the throttle till Heady was comfortable in the caboose. Gently up to 35, I plugged away to the dip, handing Coggo the drivers seat, but was called into third wheel with Heady close to implosion. Twenty metres on and he'd dropped the wheel into no-man's-land, Coggo considerately calming the pace till he'd caught the draft at the bridge. Time was ticking away so did my au revoir's at River Rd's end to labour the truck route and enjoy an second wind in Archer to get me home on schedule.
14/6 Sorting serious from soft.
Those first few drops were dismissed as trivial but spotted specs and a semi-gloss tarmac a k later had poked the pessimist in my head. Positive thoughts Foss! 'Tis but a spurious sprinkle! This (hopefully) passing precipitation would sort the serious from the soft and, as expected, the turn-up was all top-guns, the pop-guns were all in bed! Rocket, Wozz, PistolPete, Boof, Bruce and not-so-newAvantiJohn slipped swiftly south into Archer Rd, Laura a last minute entry thrown in the deep end to catch the tail, so Bruce, PistolPete and I eased up to keep her in tow. Two rows of four forged on to Mitchell Rd, quietly confident the drizzle was done. I'd lucked Bruce's wheel on the advance to the front (ignoring Rocket's horsepower behind me for part two), a half shift toward River Rd's bridge was enough to leave something in reserve for part three.
Rocket respectfully levelled with me to the bridge, the real hurt (part three) was hanging on to the hurry as he and Boof turned up the tempo. Laura was clinging to the caboose, no doubt buoyed by a bunch belonging on one hand and battling the 'what-the-hell-was-I-thinking' on the other. A little inspiration helped her headspace hurdle the hurt, my eyes peeled that the bolt into Boundary didn't detach her from the draft. PistolPete fired a big calibre shot to Channel Rd, my heart-rate happier there was a gentle build of speed toward town, to the S bend beside Bruce then keeping a cap on a cardiac calamity beside Rocket to the cypress trees had me wrung out. Speed was kept quick but considerate to the ChaCha, then none of that casual cruise crap back home, speed still stayed spicy to the suburbs before northeners and southerners parted company at Archer Rd, not-so-newAvantiJohn glad he got out of bed and Laura lasting to the end (elephant stamp for effort!)
Week 24 271km YTD 6,256km
brought us back to earth, the limits of labour were to be explored if we were to get back home before breakfast. Tum's tenacity was at a trickle a k down the road and Heady was hurting at half that (at least he's out having a go) so when I was handed the reins just shy of the Angora farm I went easy on the throttle till Heady was comfortable in the caboose. Gently up to 35, I plugged away to the dip, handing Coggo the drivers seat, but was called into third wheel with Heady close to implosion. Twenty metres on and he'd dropped the wheel into no-man's-land, Coggo considerately calming the pace till he'd caught the draft at the bridge. Time was ticking away so did my au revoir's at River Rd's end to labour the truck route and enjoy an second wind in Archer to get me home on schedule.
No comments:
Post a Comment