Staving off softness.

Post #561

22/8  The Toolamba test.

A closer look at the bureau's "feels like" confirmed that an extra layer would be a good idea.  Minus 1.6 would need it!  If it weren't for arranging to pair with Joe (not Tony), I might have weakened to the lure of a warm bed, but two days had already been abandoned to winter's wet this week.  Opportunities to clock a few k's were thinning.  Yeah, this obsession doesn't weaken.  A 6:30 start seemed civilized though a west northwester was rather rudely blowing at 26 to 40 km/h, so with me dictating direction the correct course was critical.  

A brief battle to Mooroopna found some comfort  steering south southwest toward Murchison, swapping sides at suffering the side-wind in our target toward Toolamba.  Joe (not Tony) is fairly fresh to this bike business and early experiences etch into memory banks (don't we all vividly recall first completing an astonishing 30k ride?) so I was careful to level wheels less I be likened to Atilla the Hun or Timur.  What's usually a long drag to the rail-line passed fairly quickly (seems relentless solo, company curtails that cruelty).   The way west to Toolamba township (873 residents, all sleeping) was with little effort and at peace without that wind whistling between the ears, the prediction of pain in Central Kialla Rd a little presumptious at this point.  What a difference to ride a road with a few curves and a rise and fall, the tarmac to the old Toolamba bridge chorused by birds heralding a grey Saturday.  

Walking the boards of the bridge took a little strain off the vastus lateralis, a second wind found tapping the 4k to the highway.  Union Rd's rough-as-a-rasp surface seems to have smoothed, or maybe the posterior has pondered rule #5?, it's 5k length spent comparing cadence and the characters that combine to create clan Couldabeens (our diversion to the task ahead).    North on Central Kialla Rd ceased the chit-chat and got us down to business slicing the wind for each other albeit for just 8 minutes.   Free from the bunch constraints on course, the Raftery Rd option was chosen to town (the most direct line to caffeine), now feeling the wrath of the wind and it's bone chilling blast on Mitchell Rd.  Heads lowered and shifts shortened.  I could read Joe's exertion quite clearly ascending Dave's dip so I drove a longer shift to Galbraith's gate so he'd get an oxygen overdose.   The flourescence of Vince bearing south east attacked our eyeballs as turns rolled toward Arcadia Downs, just the thought of a coffee's warmth put more push in the pedals.  A sprint finish would have been as welcome as a fart in a space-suit so tempo was tamed to smooth into town, passing traffic donating a vacuum effect to draw us along to the Butter Factory for the Genovese tonic to top off 50k. 

24/8  A spin with smoothness.

Mr. Pessimist argued for a u-turn headed for Sanctuary's roundabout at stupid o'clock Monday, not a bike to be seen, feels like minus 1.6 and I could barely top 30.  The woes of winter nearly got me.  Someone would surely turn up?  PistolPete's headlight pierced the darkness but continued north, so I circled the roundabout in the hope of catching a companion.  3 lights soon converged, Bo and Pistol headed north but Kel was pleased to pair, so we set south.  Smoothness was a certainty.  

The slow build up to speed to the truck route could hardly be called a turn so I pressed on to Mitchell Rd, spinning the 17 to hurry some heat into the legs.  Kel did the east leg to Kialla Central while I calmed the cardiac convulsions, soaking up that smoothness certainly sped the recovery.  I'd nearly returned to some sort of normality when my turn was due again, telling myself that breeze was a southwester got me to River Rd but I still needed my breath back.  Ritual shifts to the regular landmarks were in order so Kel did the drive to the bridge, here's me thinking the Garmin's frozen on 35.6 but it was just Kel's commitment to a polished pace.  These shifts are fairly even in length but the imagination lengthens 'em when you're on the front and shortens 'em in the draft.  All too soon Kel's elbow put me at the front for a contribution to the dip, it might have been an assisting west breeze but it did little to spike my speed.  

There were no lights behind to urge extra effort (Kel was doing that with her hurry), the white fence of the quarter-horse stud came into view, Kel steered slightly right, so I took the reigns for another shift but there hadn't been a signal for a swap.  Committed now.  What seemed an eternity to River Rd's end really emptied the tank, I'd sharpen the focus for that elbow now that wattage was a rare resource.  The tempo stayed glued on the Garmin to the Broken bridges while waiting for the definite sign of surrender, taking the lead to the highway seemingly a little easier.  Had I found a second wind or had the wind found my back?  A little light from the east gave a view beyond the headlights' reach, the focus still keen on that wheel ahead though cautious when I thought of the 9.7 metres per second reaction time.  (I was on one of the safest wheels in the business though)  With Old Dookie Rd's 8k to go, the measure of wattage left was better calculated, we'd split the shift to Central Ave so the last 4k could be spent to the velocity's value.  A wary eye at Doyles Rd roundabout and into town with none yet visible in pursuit, the relaxed roll to the Butter Factory finessed the finish. 

25/8  The baptism.

Partners paired at the carpark Tuesday morning with every effort to match wattage.  Bruce and Boof rolled away as Joe (not Tony) and I did the duo thing, leaving GreatScottSteve and Kreeky as last in line. (Wozza & Rocket, The Godfather & Col and Kel & Bo had paired prior)   I volunteered first shift watching Boof and Bruce draw gradually further ahead, thinking Sanctuary's roundabout would be a suitable aim to let Joe (not Tony) climatize.   The change of lead was welcome, tucking in for the tow to the truck route, GreatScottSteve and Kreeky with a bit more pace, passing us half way there.  The hint of a draft a few metres behind them was certainly a temptation.  Joe (not Tony) rooster-tailed me some damp, but hang on ; the road was dry!  Was this a pre-cursor to a puncture?  Unsure, another spray got my focus finer.  Was it a leaking bidon, dribbling down the frame, hitting the rear tyre and spraying me in his draft?  But it was a white fluid. Maybe milk?  Some special brew mixed by a Spanish doctor?  I didn't really want to ponder further, just move off line to dodge a drowning.  Each bump in the road started the spray again, so with spotted specs and a polka-dotted bike, I swapped places entering Mitchell Rd. 

The urge to take a tow from Kreeky and GreatScottSteve argued with the feeling of being labelled a parasite, so backing off a few more metres silenced my own critique.  It seemed fair to allow Joe (not Tony) take over when we steered toward River Rd, predicting a bump and avoiding a subsequent soaking proving impossible.  The baptism continued so I veered off-line again.  Turns swapped when we pointed east on River Rd but I was going to get greedy and do the 6k leg ahead, less I drown.  The bunch habit of holding a wheel is a hard one to break, closing in on GreatScottSteve's wheel while Kreeky captained to the dip, but that directive of distancing eased me back on the safe side.  

GreatScottSteve took a big share of the drive to finish off River Rd, both turns changing as the rooster crowed turning into Coach Rd. That spray continued, Joe (not Tony)'s seat tube dripping with it (along with my gloves, forks, bars, shoes and cranks)   Was it the milk of human kindness?  (turned out to be sealant leaking from the rear tyre.  I wasn't going to spring a leak for a long time!) The showering seemed to have eased over the highway , fog laid in the lowlands and the puffs and pants of pace made steam train-like clouds as the lap continued it's west way back to town.  Turns swapped again but the pairs held station, the sun was almost out of bed so there was comfort arriving back in town with more view than the headlights reach, though it seems black cars don't need headlights in the half light of 6:30.  

26/8  Lone lappin'.

I'd be dizzy doin' another circuit of Archer - Mitchell - River - Boundary - Old Dookie, so selected a solo spin for Wednesday.  They say the spice of life is variety, but the same sub-arctic temperature was there to greet me.  Out of town on New Dookie Rd was on a dark deserted highway (cold wind in my hair......) and despite no-one to chase and not being chased, I'd ramped up the speed to put me in the midst of zone 4.  Why do I do that?  Why do we do that?  Staving off softness? There were just two cars to steer clear of, one behind and one oncoming crossing paths just as that thin width of tarmac (to the left of the white line) vanished, of course!   It was a fight to hold a decent pace and darn it!, not a breath of wind to blame, but eventually Pine Lodge church appeared in the fog.  Getting back up to pace toward the Toaster was a test.  It had just clocked 6 so a hint of horizon light seemed like a gift from the gods. 

Distant city lights backlit a fog rising from the main eastern channel and with a little time up my armwarmer, I mentally mapped a return via Channel Rd.   Boundary Rd had northbound pairs of Couldabeens chasing red leds, g'day's guessed as Col, Boof and GreatScottSteve by voices behind the headlights glare.  Colour tinted the sky and the temperature dipped to raise the effort more, over the highway then homeward on Channel Rd hoping Darth Vader preferred bed over bikes.  He did.  It's a route rarely ridden these days since Couldabeens changed course to Old Dookie Rd but Channel Rd's landmarks were still familiar back to town.

28/8  Friday fractions.

A day off work gave Friday a feeling of freedom, that freedom amplified with a self propelled lap on the bike.  I teamed with Tina for a tap at Sanctuary's roundabout, a few minutes ahead of the usual paired crew.  A steady start suited both Tina and I, Tina on a comeback from a quiet week (less than 400k!) and me because of old age and rust.  Winter is still hanging on, yet another cold start (4 degrees, feels like 0 with that westerly at 15 km/h) keeping with the consistency of the past few months.  Distanced side by side, the social stuff was dispensed  down to Mitchell Rd, the business of the Indian filed effort commencing toward Central Kialla.   I had the easier easterly leg, Tina bearing the brunt of the breeze at the left side toward River Rd.  With the wind at my tail in River Rd, the turn to the bridge was most manageable but I was careful not to test Tina on her recovery.  Seems I was a bit shy on speed, Tina's tempo turning up a few k's to the dip and beyond.  

The precision of pace makes her's an easy wheel to follow, my shift from the quarter horse stud matching her momentum.  Lights behind have a motivational effect, Tina's speed similar in Coach Rd despite cutting into a side wind.  Our pursuants (Grumpy and Bruce) caught us at One Tree Dam, gradually opening a space between us and them toward the highway. Of course you then sneak a peek behind for others hunting your hurry.   Just darkness following.  Those flashing red leds ahead triggered more tempo, Tina towing me to the fig farm where another turn for me came due.  Old Dookie Rd seemed a bit shy as my target, so I committed to continuing west as a collection of 5 Cats cornered into Boundary Rd, seemingly exempt from distancing requirements.     Into that wind mustered more motivation, originally aiming at School Rd then extending the goal to reach Central Ave. 

Tina's response was reciprocal, spinning a great shift back to town, the bonus for me the social stuff afterward (dutifully distanced) at The Butter Factory's car park.   PistolPete, Wozza, Joe (not Tony), Rocket, Boof, The Godfather, Kel, Kreeky and Bo arrived in the minutes after, joining Grumpy and Bruce, Tina and I in chat over coffee on good books, wrestlers and craft beer.   As a pleasant change, time was no constraint, so I cranked a Congupna circuit afterwards to soak up some sunshine, the few extra k's as compensation for succumbing to a sleep-in Thursday.

This week 242 km     YTD 6,885km