Mates maketh the memories.

Post #544
25/4  Kool Karramomus.
Still starved of the social stuff that satisfies a Saturday spin makes the reason to ride harder each week.  That tap with the team and babble with buddies soars above sliced bread!  So yet another different circuit was created in the cranium to motivate me out of bed and face 7 degrees.  A comfortable new kit made good bait to board the bike too.

The start was solemn seeing many at their driveways standing silent in salute to ANZAC day, rather eerie when I took a moment in contemplation at the town's war memorial with just 4 others there (how nice to find a dozen uniformed officers at attention out front of the police station as their mark of respect)

Mine was a standard southerly start in Archer Rd but today facing a fog, speed was well short of the Saturday specs but then I didn't have the draft of twenty others to boost my average artificially.  Windscreen wipers on the specs would have been handy.  Across to Central Kialla, I steered toward Meipol for a spin south.     A single northbound car broke the silence and the aroma of dead 'roo assaulted the nostrils. 7 k's of tarmac stretched almost monotonously into the darkness, hey this was once the standard Saturday circuit (yikes! that was 9 years ago!)  Other than a paddock of curious cows and stunned sheep, I was the only living thing in Karramomus Rd, the surface Roubaix-like as many D roads are in these parts.  Past the hall and tennis court (the only evidence of Karramomus) the road thins to a 3 metre wide strip, marking just a few k's to reach Euroa Rd.

My distraction from the cold became the rising sun, quite scenic as it struggled to poke through the fog, gold underlining the clouds to light up Saturday's solitude while the chill lapped at the legs and condensation dripped from the helmet's brow.  (I suppose Zwift has a digital version of this?)  Keep your riding real folks! 8 k's seemed short reaching the main eastern channel, Coach Rd's smoothness adding a couple of k's to the pace and a bit more chill to the skin.  The coffee craving kicked in.
The flouro figure of CatRuss appeared through the Broken bridges fog vindicating my doubts to be clocking k's in this stuff, my aim already set on an Old Dookie Rd bearing toward breakfast.  The bureau said calm but I could bet a breeze was blowing at my back, maybe the thought of hot caffeine injection turbo boosted my tempo?

The safety police have struck at Central Ave's intersection (among others of late) with a mass of rumble strips that could loosen fillings in your teeth, won't that cause a moment when bunch riding is off the forbidden list? Back into town and almost tasting the toast, Snow and Jan were just launching their lap east, my bee line was to the Lemontree for solitary sustenance.


27/4  Serve chilled.
The bureau confirmed the cold.  Excuses were quickly erased and an extra base layer applied.  And knee-warmers.  Long gloves too.  4 degrees bit hard when I opened the door, but there'd be tougher mornings to come when winter strikes.

 I spared a thought for those softening in their warm beds and pointed the Baum east onto Ford Rd, there was yet another different course to crank.  The speedo spasmed for a moment (47 was a bit much for my early effort) but soon settled like me into a steady spin.  Struggling to identify an oncoming bike, my headlight briefly caught the familiar curls of Tina tapping west, no doubt doing "a little bit more", distancing limiting our greeting to a passing g'day.   My destination was Pine Lodge North Rd, so settled in for the 15 min spin, mentally mapping an alternative return (for the want of variety).  Steering north toward 5 Ways the slightest suggestion of colour on the horizon forecast a super sunrise (I'll take anything resembling a positive to start the day).

I'd aimed to take Tank Corner East Rd back but found it to be gravel on arrival.  I haven't switched to the dark side of cycling and gravel rash isn't on my bucket list!  A string of farmhouse lights lit up Congupna East Rd as a more civilised alternative homeward, my Michelins+  making music across the well worn tarmac.  Light started to fill the sky, cows were up and about and a few "essential" workers began their commute.  The Col de Channel bridge ascent (a 75cm climb over 4.5 metres) was bravely tackled on the big ring, Congupna's skyline visible from it's dizzying heights.  Arriving at Lemnos North Rd I swung south, keen to try Knights Rd as a road rarely ridden.  Grahamvale Rd was filling with commuters, Ford Rd vacant of vehicles in comparison.  Timing was impeccable arriving home at 7, just in time to spend 8 hours at the coal face. (+Michelin is not an affiliate partner. Foss is not paid endorsements either financial, ex gratia, contractual or in kind by commercial parties...though I wish!)

28/4 Memory lane.
Does absence really make the heart grow fonder? There'd been many moons since I'd made a mark on the ubiquitous Channel-Coach-River-Mitchell-Raftery circuit so off into Tuesday's 4 degree darkness I went in search of the answer.  The opening metres of Channel Rd (once the starting grid in the early days of the bunch) are now layered in super smooth hot mix, so that put the head in a happy place (till Kensington's roundabout where the regular roughness resumed).  Out of the town's shelter the elements are at you and I could swear an east northeaster was brewing to bust me.  Crossing the truck route was clear and usually at this point you'd wonder where the wattage would come from to keep pace with Boof, Rocket, Wozza or their ilk but today it was only me to contend with.

To Orrvale Rd's left / right and another smooth stretch lulled me into a false sense of comfort, reverting to a rough stretch beyond Prentice Rd with gravel thrown in for added aggravation.  Kinder corner sometimes springs a car out of nowhere but today Central Ave was deserted.  At the point of accelerating to stay with the bunch Bruce'd be on for a chat while I be gasping for oxygen!  South to Jameson Rd (often into a southerly) and east to the left hander at the cypress trees (remember the pear pulp spill at the corner that turned Nev horizontal?)  that breeze had built to a wind.  Along the infamous 'rabbit row (did PistolPete arrange their deportation?) and across to the S bend that wind was wearing me down to slowcoach specs.  The halt for a car at Coach Rd detected not a puff, of course!

Bound for the Broken bridges usually has the protests of pace chirped from the rear ranks (no names to avoid litigation) so the silence spinning solo was overwhelming.  The lights of the tail-light time trial were clear as crystal along River Rd, crossing paths with Boof, The Godfather, PistolPete, Kel, Bo and Tina as I faced the west way back homeward.  River Rd recalls many an o.t.a. occurrence (and horizontal hurt if you're Coggo or KillkennyPaul) but it's a calmer karma on a solo spin.  The wind (that wasn't) was certainly helping my path toward Central Kialla and along Mitchell Rd, Blacky and Craig Lotsalumens expending their energy east.  Down through Dave's dip (hey, that was nearly five years ago!) where tactical thoughts brew about who'll be doing turns into Conrod straight, across the highway (usually gritting teeth for the tempo of Raftery Rd) and into Roubaix corner. Yep, it's still rough as hessian undies!  Those 3 k's to the finish line can be heaven or hell, either hanging on for all you're worth to avoid the shame of ota or the joy of a rare win (when I'm mixed with a lower division!)  There's the 'roo incident memory too, firmly embedded in the heads of Wozza, PistolPete, Bo and Kel.  It's a whole different finish solo, not gasping for oxygen while coasting to punch-up bridge, but then suffering the silence on the roll through town without the bunch babble.  Absence from the circuit is neither here or there, it's mates that maketh the memories.

1/5  Bit breezy!

The wind whistled in from the west (26-41 km/h) and common sense said a conservative course would be best (roads certainly soaked from 2 days of rain) but taking the orthodox option is so ho-hum! Something was needed to shake off the defeatist voices in the head.   Seeing the temperature on a phone screen doesn't feel too bad but it bites hard in reality, 7 degrees stirring up a spin to keep warm on the Midland across to Mooroopna for yet another route less ridden.  The odd passing car donated fine mist to my head-wind battle, but the craving to get back aboard the Baum after two days off counteracted that.

Headed south on Turnbull Rd got me out of that wind for a while and away from traffic into the bargain, the fire of resolve needing a fair stoke to face Ferguson Rd's 8k stretch of tarmac to Tat.  Ignoring a lack-lustre speed and keeping tabs on preserving a rhythm seemed to work, careful not to get too carried away in the shelter of a line of trees 'cause the open fields afterward delivered a swift slap of reality.  Just 2 Taturians were up and about as I battled the main street, focus set further west on Baldwin Rd in search of a northern tap along Donaldson Rd.

Concentrating on that rhythm worked well if I ignored the sluggish 28 km/h, 6 k's of suffering ending when the tarmac ended and gravel began.  And drenched gravel wasn't on my menu. About faced and relishing the tailwind, I took Winter Rd for a northern alternative to the A300.  The tempo was treated to that tail-wind up to Undera Rd for an Ardmona alternative back home (time wasn't my enemy with an ADO).  Wind whipped at the wheels till the turn east toward Ardmona, the chain dropping down the cassette as the speedo climbed the 30's.  Orchards have assumed the autumn aura and cows chomped the cool cud, not long and I was back into Mooroopna thinking how a hot coffee would hit the spot.  Back to town via the shared pathway but I'd picked up a hitch-hiker with 3k to go, a bindii making a marshmallow ride of the rear tyre. (how lucky to reach my driveway with just 30psi left)

This week  209km     YTD 2864km