Pace & possibilities, pain & punishment.

Post # 548
23/5  The Saturday standard.

An attempt (again) to highjack the Saturday start time to 5:45 failed, most siding with the 8 year old tradition of a 6am kick-off, so I scored a few more minutes snooze and time for a relaxed roll to the grid....but for an icy 25 km/h southerly to suffer getting there (so I was avoiding the heartache of a first turn headwind)   A few others circled the streets of the Archer St shop, many no doubt breathing that sigh seeing Wozza in the number 1 grid position.  Lenny, Shorty, Kreeky, GiantAndy, Boof, Rocket, Liam and Trav filed into the carpark, MyRideTrev and Col opting for team 2 to observe the groups of 10 distancing directive.  I was somewhat smug sitting third wheel in the single filed start, the two row formation would lower me down the list to face the front....or so I thought.  Beyond the city limits and into that feels like 0.6 degree stiff southerly, the squad stayed Indian file.  O-oh, that meant my number would come up at the truck route for the 2k shift to Mitchell Rd (with heaps of horsepower behind me just to raise expectations)

Wozza set a swift speed to Sanctuary's roundabout then Lenny took the reigns to the truck route, then earning my vote for the white jersey by driving the distance to Mitchell (saving me the hurt).  The turn east wasn't so cruisy, I was riding the empty oncoming lane to aid those echeloned behind, wind whipping at the wheels to keep the accelerator flat to the floor. A Garmin glimpse saw 178bpm so eyes were steered quickly to the road instead.  Satisfied but spent reaching Central Kialla, I peeled off to the caboose for rapid respite while Kreeky towed us to River Rd (lucky lad had the tailwind to keep the speed smooth).

Echeloned again in River Rd, recovery was taking it's time, Boof, Rocket and Shorty provided the muscle to make it longer still.  GiantAndy headed the hurry into Coach Rd but a holler of "puncture!" beyond the Broken bridges gave me (and others) a chance to catch up on oxygen intake.  Wozza tended to his deflation while the cackle carried on from the side lines.  A few moments of maintenance and the train restarted (a little out of order), gradually up to speed with Liam now at the front.  Hang on lads, this was going to be a long drive.  At least Trav at second wheel was providing a better tow than Liam (he's like drafting a matchstick!)  The usual change of leadership at Old Dookie Rd didn't happen, Liam pushing on to the Toaster instead.  (A 7k drive at the front like a walk in the park for the young fella).  Trav towed us to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd but a whisker of westerly had worked it's way into that southerly, Kreeky copping the workload west into it.  Speed was slipping away by Woolshed Rd a k later, his elbow delivering me to the front

I was somewhat stoked to carefully raise the bar (but keeping Kreeky as part of the crew), faith at last restored in Foss's engine to provide an almost reputable rate of knots.  (for the first time since December last year).    2k's worth of that was about the limit, so handed over to Wozz for the serious speed to begin.   Rocket and Boof sat next in line to make that standard stick, maybe that's why Shorty was now staying at the rear?   It was a suitable spot for me too given the percolating pace.  There's no point flogging a dead horse so I played gate-keeper while the big engines fired off the front, Kreeky now struggling as the train steamed into town, breaking off the back as we crossed Verney Rd.  When a holler was sent to the front for a more sympathetic speed Shorty and I relished the rest....for a brief moment.  Into Wanganui Rd and we'd lost the back carriage again, Rocket & GiantAndy easing the effort to tow the tired home (Shorty and I there purely for moral support, ha ha!)  The team had reformed to 10 by the cemetery, the group gathering at the Butter Factory (Bo, Col and The Godfather berthed from an earlier arrival) chatting the conflicts of health and benefits of 50mm wheels while goading The Godfather's selection of start time.

25/5  Trial by tempo.
I'd scored Bo's wheel in the shuffle of positions as 8 sorted out the pecking order of the single filed attack on Archer Rd, Lenny and The Godfather behind me as Col captained the crew toward Sanctuary's roundabout.  I'd be trialled by tempo for the Monday lap.  Col did well to drive the 3k's  (just half a dozen rides in 2 months)  facing the southerly , Tina turning on a swift shift to the truck route and Kreeky putting in a solid turn to Mitchell Rd (already shaken off the Saturday sluggishness).  It was a foregone conclusion that Bo would drive a long shift (so we could witness the fitness?) and I'd be taxed at second wheel.  No respect for his elders!  Wozza had joined the crew from a chase when Kel headed our hurry to Central Kialla in typical smooth style.  With the wind at his back, a 2k drive to River Rd was just a warm-up for Bo, getting greedy in the drivers seat towing us to the bridge and beyond to the dip (to make sure I was well cooked before taking the lead?)  The first 300 metres of my turn at the pointy end was full of pace and possibilities, thereafter pain and punishment to maintain the momentum.  The quarter horse stud's white fence was blurry but my decision was sharp to flick Lenny the lead, reckoning there'd be a few stray watts to catch the tail if I was lucky.

Lenny hit the boost button and that growling bear suddenly with me made Bo look behind, the next 100 metres spent pushing pedals with what felt like al-dente legs.  Thanks Lenny!  By the good will of the draft I hung on, a moment of recovery on the slow to turn north into Coach Rd, then back on the gas, watching Lenny and The Godfather riding the bunch off their wheel.  Bo came forward to drag the half dozen forward, then resumed position at One Tree Dam when carriages connected again.  The Godfather poured power into that big gear to the highway but Col retreated rearward, his driving days done.  I couldn't help the guesstimations of who'd drive to where and when (or if) I'd face the front again (there's a bit of mental preparation required to get this old bomb performing in this sort of company), so with each long turn that likelihood faded.   Tina kept the pace percolating toward the fig farm,  Kreeky then Kel keeping heads down into Old Dookie Rd (and my chance of being taxed by another turn off the agenda).  Bo, of course, laboured another long turn from Central Ave, me hanging on in hope but having a little reserve now if called to duty.  I was ready to take the lead as we crossed Doyles Rd, but Bo retained the presidency of pace to SPC, my swansong a spin through the streets to basecamp (as if they needed direction to coffee!)

26/5  Hibernators ; on your marks, get set.....
Tuesday's tumbling temperature (feels like -0.8) would set off the starters gun for the hibernators.  Here comes that season of the few (and fewer) faces to turn up to tap a lap and commitment to the cause is tested by temperature.  Expectations were lowered on my zig zag of the streets (soaking up time before 6), there'd be fewer at Friars as Goats were gripped by winter's imminent arrival.  Coggo's despondency disappeared as I arrived, not another Goat had gathered!

Two minutes chat, hoping to attract another to the fold drew only Belly to the grid (hard man ; short knicks) so a short course to head home via Channel Rd was our consensus.  I'd been elected the pilot to thread our way out of town, slowly stoking the speed out Old Dookie Rd to guess the cruising speed (how to win friends and avoid knives in the back) toward Dobson's bridge.  34 seemed suitable (no complaints) so I drove an extra shift to Central Ave (after all, there's only 3 to share the suffering).  Coggo preserved the pace to Boundary Rd but Belly was playing free-loader today and shied from driving duty.  A red led flashed ahead to bait my shift toward the pub, I'd nearly thrown an elbow to Coggo when I reached the bridge but gaining quickly on the mystery man became an extra incentive.  It was Snow we'd rounded up, who happily joined the clan.  Over the highway, Coggo's turn had a calm beginning (while tail-enders tattled) then back to the business of mid 30's to take us to Channel Rd's S bend.  Yet another turn for me got to Kinder corner, Snow finally in the drivers seat for the Cha Cha.  That temperature gripped lungs and muscles as I retreated rearward but Belly was still the major shareholder of the caboose.  A sprint had all the appeal of the dentists drill, so a steady tap into town topped off Tuesday nicely.

28/5  Five facing fog.
Guilt got me out early on Thursday (time for penance for wagging Wednesday's ride), fog infesting my prologue to Lemnos and back.  A billion microscopic water droplets hung in the CatEye's beam, giving the perception of pedalling through porridge as damp dripped from the helmet and sparkled on gloves and armwarmers.

Back into town by 5:57 faith faded at Friars, the footpath was empty.  This might turn into a solitary spin on the shortcut back to town if the grid stayed Goat-less.  Luck had Belly and Coggo arrive a couple of minutes before launch time, a well placed sledge on Strava (about softening) attracting Hommie and Sandy to the start line. Coggo took command to lead us east, second wheel suited me while Hommie, Belly and Sandy finished the formation.  Smoothness makes Coggo an easy fellow to follow, the hum from that 80mm rear wheel was music to move by.  I was given the lead at the bridge, attempting to find Central Ave through the fog (windscreen wipers on the specs would've helped)   A peek back to see what held up Hommie taking the lead for leg 3 got me momentarily off course, a few metres in the gravel sharpening the senses.

A gradual build up to speed wasn't really Hommie's habit, but to his credit (and Sandy's pleasure) a considerate turn to School Rd kept the group together.  Belly joined Sandy in keeping the caboose occupied, so it seemed Coggo, Hommie and I were the only ones willing to work.  Back on the front again for Boundary Rd, pace came easily for a change (the hint of a northeaster the help?) so pressed on to the pub.  Hommie headed the pack to the Broken bridges,  a little longer than his first turn, Coggo the tow truck to River Rd.  The turn appeared sooner than I'd guessed, a damp road dictating a cautious entry, so I'd almost overshot the turn with care, the last few centimetres of tarmac my saviour.  Coggo continued the captaincy for another k, the handover finding me in fair fettle to reach the dip.  That was timed well, I'd get a bit of a tow before doing the solo departure thing.  Hoo-roo's to the crew at River Rd's end, I took the truck route short-cut to town with even more caution in the fog, that metre or so of tarmac left of the white line was better than the nothing you get on most other roads.

29/5  The post to Pistol.

Plenty assembled for Friday's special spin, a chance for Couldabeens to send get-well-soon wishes for PistolPete (courtesy of Nigel's videography and Chris at the ButterFactory).   Fog filled the carpark at 5:40 along with Rocket, Tina, Lenny, Kel, Bruce, Shorty, Kreeky, Wozza, The Godfather, Steve, Bo, Boof, Joe (not Tony), Col, even BamBam emerged from the depths of obscurity for the occasion.  The pack divided into eights (by chance) to satisfy distancing directives,   SuperMario, Kenworth, Laura and TrekTrev lapping the lakes a little later apparently.

By position on the grid I'd joined group two as the flag dropped, south into the fog of Archer Rd on Kreeky's wheel as Bruce set the progress toward Mitchell Rd, the red leds of group one blinking 'keep up' ahead.  Care was taken crossing the truck route that BamBam stayed stuck in the caboose, the remainder rolling the turns while second last kept an eye out for any o.t.a. moment.  A shuffle of positions into Mitchell Rd had me on Bruce's wheel while Joe (not Tony) drove toward Central Kialla. Steve's quickly climatized to the protocols, his smooth and straight turn to River Rd the beginnings of an asset to the team.  Bruce headed our hurry east toward the bridge but continued on to the dip, the fog clearing to keep us on the straight and narrow.

My contribution started with great intention (as always) till the heart rate (or the head) had other ideas, sight of the white fence at the quarter horse stud seeing me sign off the front.  Shorty, Boof and Kreeky did their bit while I regained composure, a little confusion in Coach Rd when some pointed to Channel Rd as the way home.  Straight on was the call, the surge in speed almost dislodging our caboose.  Bruce had the helm again heading into Old Dookie Rd, I should have known he'd push on to Central Ave before handing over (remarkably I still had something in the tank to continue the speed standard).  Happy I'd  done a decent turn to reach Doyles Rd, I retreated rearward while Boof took us into town, finding fog our enemy again, a gloss to the tarmac putting caution into cornering.  The gathering at the Butterfactory recorded our best wishes to PistolPete *, a chance to chat and thaw over coffee as Grumpy, Nev, Marion and BeerMat converged on the congregation.

(*There's been an inspiring recovery by PistolPete, the critical period for possible vaso spasm has passed, he's up and about, albeit carefully, and has been moved from high dependency to rehab. There's still a long road of recovery to travel but signs are good,  so all fingers are still crossed)

This week  248km    YTD 3,803km