Week 51: The ride to ruin ribs.

Post #531
14/12  A prescription of pace.

Bed was bliss, legs felt lame, energy was extinct and there was a hundred things to do at home when the alarm chimed at stupid o'clock Saturday.  So a ride was the perfect prescription!  (HTFU old chap and get your priorities right!)

The weather was still stuck on a southwester though twelve degrees was tolerable, the spin through town amused by drunk nightclubbers staggering the streets.  I made my way to a crammed carpark, finding Wozza, Dalts, Temple, Tina, Lance, TrekTrev, MyRideTrev, GiantAndy, Bruce, Rocket, TatPaul, BigLen, Determined Dan, Boof, PistolPete, Lenny, Shorty, Bo, Superman, The Godfather, TatMat, Tum, Col and (pickle my grandmother!), SuperMario back on a bike! Up and away by six, two rows got sorted into a pecking order for the ritual fifty five k's.
Finding loose gravel across the River Rd entry, The Godfather took a wide line off road to avoid a horizontal embarrassment, (as if the floral atrocity he called a kit wasn't enough!) lucky to rejoin the tarmac upright with not a bindii collected.

CatKel was collected at the Broken bridges, Superman limiting his exposure to effort in the drivers seat alongside Lance on worn wattage too.  Tum took over crossing Channel Rd and I paired with him to the highway, TatPaul my sidekick to Boundary's channel bridge. Funny how you can muster a good turn when there's a long line of drivers ready to volunteer behind. It's a different story in a small bunch when the turns come round regularly. Settling back into the draft, there'd be a long wait till duty called again. TrekTrev played paparazzi and for a moment speed settled into the mid thirties on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to the relief of a few, but the serenity was short-lived as Rocket and Wozza resumed the rapidity.  Temple, Dalts, MyRideTrev and SuperMario wagged the work in Wanganui Rd, opting to vamoose via Verney Rd to Breakfast.  Vince and I were on duty toward DECA, just maintaining the 40's momentum, waiting for the movers and shakers to pounce, pleased to be near the business end when the sprint sprung to life rather than be dropped from the rear.  BigLen was in labor at the test track (see what too much MTB does to you!) as a gap opening ahead of him, so I seized the chance to grab Tina's wheel when she shot past, avoiding a case of the o.t.a.'s.  Breakfast caused the usual bolt along the Boulevard, Bruce's speed a bit spicy into Knight St where he got a bit too up-close-and-personal to an oncoming truck.  High and resting heart rates, retail pandemonium and container homes was on the Lemontree breakfast chat list as the day warmed us.


16/12  Welcome back Liam!

Monday morning's lethargy turned to labour when the clock struck 5:30, three minutes beyond saddle-up time put some pace into my six k commute to the carpark.  Bo, Lenny, Bruce, PistolPete, Wozza, Rocket, The Godfather, Trav, Joe (not Tony) Kel and Col rolled in, Liam's return from injury an inspirational moment.  The ubiquitous southwester drove us along Channel Rd as the weekend's production, past-times and parties were verbalised.  That breeze behind got my turn with Wozz to the Kinder up to the standard but that southern spin on Central Ave beside Liam was a lesson in labour till we swung eastward toward the cypress trees.  I didn't want to contemplate my next turn, it was a long way off, 'cause it'd be into the wind.  Tis the season where start and finish temperatures are differing, the rising sun helping to heat some hurry into lax legs.  Ahh, it'll soon be time to grizzle about the heat now that winters long cold chill has been forgotten.

The sights, sounds and smells of the great outdoors were being lapped up by Liam (even The Godfather's garble?), all those weeks of rehab and the wind-trainer would torment the toughest.  (yet some choose a static scenery ride indoors even when weather is wonderful)  The Goats train of peace looked appealing as we turned to work west into the wind, Joe (not Tony) keen to keep the caboose captaincy.  My time for torment came beside Wozz (supressing snoring) in Wanganui Rd, but I called my turn short through want for wattage that wasn't.  Liam and Bo took the reigns at DECA, me forgetting Liam's lack of draft till now,  recovery impossible in the tow of a matchstick.  Still, he'd step up my Strava suffer score trying to hold on.  The want for a Butterfactory brew stirred some speed on the Boulevard, car-bound commuters multiplying as work drew them toward town, the quick crank to the traffic lights where I parted company for a slow spin to home.

17/12  A ride to ruin ribs.

The choice between the 5:40 spin and the six am Goat getaway was decided by time (or lack of it), no way I was making the Couldabeens grid to catch their train so a golf course loop to the Goat grid was a schedule I could keep.  Heady, Phil, Tina, Coggo, Sandy, Hommie, Snow and Dippa had berthed at Verney's roundabout, so Heady assumed his riding ritual role to lead leg one.  A smidgeon of a southerly suggested I take to the crown of  the road to deliver a decent draft to others, the turn at the front to Lemnos North Rd judged easier than the effort at the back.  Go figure!

There was a bit of trepidation about facing the breeze in Boundary Rd but all stepped up to the challenge, whether it be long or short.   An orange daybreak put some enthusiasm behind the effort, a sense of stability and smoothness swamping the squad with Coggo at the helm.   I was back at the business end by the highway, the bait of HG and Brother Andrew ahead gave incentive to chase, my temptation of tempo tamed when they turned into Channel Rd.  Tina's turn was a delight to follow as I slipped to the rear of the Indian filed line, it was inspiring to witness Heady and Dippa advancing (albeit briefly) into the southwester on River Rd, it's all too easy to take the soft option of sitting-on but the nothing-ventured-nothing-gained gambit must have menaced their minds. 

All did their bit to Central Kialla, Heady kindly towing me the last k so I was fresh for the solo spin home. Those oncoming trucks did their best to blow me backward but the tailwind on Archer Rd would be a sweet swansong.  I remembered a long wait at the Kialla Lakes Drive traffic lights but there's just snapshots of circumstances thereafter, trying to dream up a snappy Strava ride title kept the pre-frontal cortex occupied, commuting traffic keeping the corpus collosum concentrating on the downhill to Guthrie St.  It was a white van pulling out from the stop sign that got the OMG's happening, the hope of turning east with him wasn't going to work but was worth a try for the harm minimisation.  Striking the drivers door at 45 degrees turned out my consciousness for a minute, brief pictures of Cats gathered and the ambulance driver asking questions was all the memory would recall. Feeling a great weight on my chest for the fleeting moments awake en-route to hospital were overpowered by questions of what about the bike? A partial lung collapse, nine broken ribs and  minor fractures to C3 and C4 would put a halt to riding (and this blog) for a while. (the bike, titanium tough, without damage)

Week 51:   135km                  YTD 12,833km