The squeal about the speed.

Post #563

12/9  Heaven, then the hell homeward.

Lame excuses grew louder. The wind was blowing again, another Saturday of solitary covid confinement lay ahead, a puncture was probably on the cards and bed was delightfully cosy.  Saddle up quickly Foss, you're softening swiftly!  A possessed mind had already mentally mapped a different course (maybe my modicum of motivation?) so pigheadedness was all that remained to get wheels turning.  The only problem was it'd be a tail-wind out and a head-wind home.  A lesson in measured effort wouldn't hurt.  Or would it? The northeaster (15-28 km/h) put a positive into the west way to Mooroopna, even better steering south west into Toolamba Rd.  Darkness had quickly lifted to put a spring into spring, just a few minutes after 6 and the green of fields were already visible beyond the headlight's beam.  Orange smudged the horizon. The road to Murchison carried memories of suffering (a 30k solo chase on the Tat 200 into a stiff southwester) so today's completely contrasting conditions erased the nightmare.  

A few cows chomping the cud and just 2 cars to contend with to reach Old Toolamba made a peaceful opening quarter, south of the village a smooth stretch of freshly laid tarmac was respite for the rump.  In case I'd forgotten it was September, a magpie tapped it's reminder on the helmet (several times to make the point), the 6k length of River Rd spelling Murchison was near.  

A few spits from the sky spotted specs and dampened hopes but thankfully stopped without soaking anything, Murchison's welcoming committee tapping the helmet to interrupt the focus on a few federation cottages.  Heritage listed Thornebridge (1868) and it's 107 year old London Plane tree stood gracefully at the Goulburn river but history was soon swapped for suffering as the wind attacked the left brow.  Who's idea was it to push into this all the way home?  9k's to Moorilim had some sections sheltered by the eucalypts, patches of canola were a short-lived distraction but focus soon came back to the freeway's 28 k's of hurt home.  The shallow climb of the on-ramp into a headwind wasn't an inspiring introduction.  Does breathing in deeply lower your drag co-efficient?  (anything to ease the effort)  

That wish for a passing fleet of B doubles had as much chance as finding BamBam back on a bike, traffic has notably thinned with covid restrictions so a passing draft was rare.  The head went down and the determination went up, speed was sadly snail-like though, trying not to think there was almost an hour of this to get home.  I'd found the cog between spin and grind, made easy with a 16 in the cassette, so that played a part on progress.  Shelter from the few trees was few and far between so thoughts swung to fluctuations in the FTSE 100 or the plight of the black-footed tree-rat, anything rather than that wind!  Mood lifted when the freeway finally thinned and downgraded to a highway, closer now to town and part 2 of breakfast,but closer to the wind-shear from the few oncoming trucks.  

Union Rd finally came into view and I could almost taste the coffee, an inspiration to drive the final 7k's to town.  And the Peppermill 'pie was ready to greet me.  With a powerful peck.  Times 5.  Berthing at the Butter Factory, sentences were swapped with the pedestrian peloton of Kate, Kel, Jen and Sim, soon after Big Ben and Sherls arrived to talk carbon wheels and Cobbles' Scottish tendencies.   

14/9  Pushin' through porridge.

Familiar faces fronted a fresh car park on Monday, seems it's the same old soldiers who've worked through winter that turn up while the nameless many remain scarce till conditions are positively perfect (then squeal about the speed the soldiers sit on!)  Bruce, Rocket, Joe (not Tony), Kreeky and GreatScottSteve arrived for 5:40 duty, The Godfather, PistolPete, Kel, Col and Tina were the soldiers on an earlier shift.   Pairings (on performance?) put the procession at Joe (not Tony) and I, GreatScottSteve and Rocket then Bruce and Kreeky to follow, Joe and I departing first as bait.  

I took on the first shift to the truck route, guessing a tempo to suit Joe, while trying to guess where the wind was (should I believe the bureau's reckoning of a SSW'er?  Not a leaf stirred at the car park).  Joe (not Tony) had the helm for the leg to Orrvale Rd, GreatScottSteve and Rocket's tempo a touch faster as they cruised by.  Bruce and Kreeky were about 5 metres off our tail as I got the lead role for the ChaCha, and wasn't that hot-mix heaven! (10% tacked onto the tempo)  Joe's becoming steadily smoother in speed, driving well to the cypress trees while I wondered if Kreeky and Bruce were holding back out of respect or rest. Maybe they'd take the hard yards home if that breeze was from the south west? I took a turn to the S bend then Joe towed me to Boundary, that short leg up to the highway seemed shy so stayed on the front till the bridge. Bruce and Kreeky were still backward in coming forward.  

We swapped the lead a couple of times up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the way west feeling like it was pushing through porridge (though speed didn't seem to suffer), going the distance to the main eastern channel and a bit beyond for Joe (not Tony) to then tow me to Lemnos North Rd.  Kreeky and Bruce might have to pay by the kilometre.  I found Ford Rd a battle into the breeze, speed stayed the same but the heart-rate was escalating.  Joe delivered me respite into town, Kreeky advising Wanganui Rd was the preferred route to coffee.  Anything else we can do for you guys?  Polish your bike?  Peel you a grape?  I was beginning to enjoy the challenge they'd unwittingly (?) set, dragging them 'round gave both of us a sense of purpose, but was that the sound of snoring I heard from behind?  Wanganui and Rudd Rd drained the tank fairly low but the favorable breeze on the Boulevard topped it up for some tempo to the town centre. 

15/9  Cosgrove....'cause it's there. 

Motivation begged a different course, a blind poke at the map choosing Cosgrove.....'cause it's there.  There'd be no wear on the headset bearings today, 20k east, 2k's north then 20k west to home might sound monotonous, but lapping Channel, Boundary and Ford Rd 3 times a week felt a bit o.c.d.   New Dookie Rd's peak hour (6 cars for the 6am soup shift) cleared quickly, so it was down to the business of finding a rhythm out to Cosgrove with a hint of a south southwester the only hindrance.  The magpies were still asleep. Bonus!  

A solo spin clears the head of cobwebs, and without anyone's standard to keep up with (or slow down for) there's a feeling of freedom to set your own pace.  Doesn't take long for the head to set an expectation though.  Light lit the shape of Mt. Major on the horizon , arriving soon enough at Quarry Rd for the brief bolt north to find Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd for the west way home.  Sun-up put a little psychological warmth on the back, 6 degrees needed all the help it could get, but I guess it won't be long till we're grizzling about the heat.  Time was ticking against me to get back by 7, effort was raised a lot to get back on schedule but the speed only crept up a little.  Belly and a buddy were bearing east as I ran out of Lemnos-Cosgrove and got onto Ford, a check of the clock finding I was back on schedule, if I could preserve the pace.  Sad when work get's in the way of a good ride.   Paths seemed to be full of pedestrians back in town ; have exercise freedoms during lock-down restrictions promoted a few more to fitness? Maybe it's just the earlier light that's revealing them? 

17/9  The bunch belonging.

Would it be futile fronting Frairs?  One wonders if the ease of covid restrictions would lure any Goats (with guts) to grid for a Thursday spin.  Bunches of 10 were kosher again. Surely the chance of a being in a bunch couldn't be resisted?   I'd slipped quickly back to the ritual of a prologue out to the golf course, along Wanganui and back via Verney, so pondered the possibilities of a social spin (or sucking-it-up solo)  What's App had been strangely silent.  13k's had loosened legs (I wasn't expecting a whippin' but it minimises the damage to a well worn engine) and back into town Cats were congregating (ten never looked so big) so hopes rose that Goats may gather.  Belly, Coggo, Phil, AvantiAndy, Dippa, Furph and newbie Mitch almost broke an attendance record for the year, AvantiAndy and I leading the pack (at a pedestrian pace) out of town.  Andy was first to roll across as we crossed the truck route and hasn't he acquired some extra insulation over winter!  (Loved that draft Andy)  

Catching up with the social stuff certainly beats sentences with self solo, that almost long-lost art of bunch rotation coming back without so much as a hiccup.  Just like riding a bike really!  Phil forged forward for a turn (he's kept in tune through the testing temperature of winter), Dippa doing his bit till his once-a-week-winter-workout wore his turn down short.  Coggo and Belly did their dependable drives, Furph seems to have found his niche with the Goats and newbie Mitch had all the appearances of an aprenctice ; shirt flapping in the breeze, baggy shorts, borrowed shoes and an old faithful Giant TCR,  but keen as mustard! Introductions done, he tells me it's his fifth ride and the first in a bunch! To his credit, he advanced for a contribution at the front (probably driven by guilt?) in Boundary Rd, shoulders seeming to drive the pedals, but hey! we all start somewhere don't we?  With the two important tips of keep it straight and keep it smooth, I timed my exit well west on Channel Rd (I'm sure the experience around him would guide him well).  Daylight lit my path back to town, Darth Vader spied snoozing at the truck yard and rabbits fleeing early from the Cat-Eye's beam, making a comfortable spin to town, arriving only just on agenda. 

18/9  Suddenly solitary.

Early drizzle had dampened the circuit but it hadn't dampened the desire to get with a bunch. With 12k to get to the start line and 18 minutes to do it, cadence was keen to Sanctuary's roundabout, pleased to have arrived on time but disappointed to find nobody there.  I'd probably got the time wrong.  

Up and down the drive in expectation of others turning up was a lost cause, 5:37 passed so I turned tail to the shop optimistic I'd find somebody there.  5:42 and the car-park was as empty as HG's wine glass.  Maybe it was 5:45?  After a minute or two watching the spits from the sky the result was nil ; Well Foss, it'll be a spin soaking up the solo serenity!  East into Channel Rd's soggy half light with little rooster-tails of water up the nostrils made me question the addiction, but then I rewound to the 102kg bloke wheezing through a 35-a-day habit.  A light south southeaster blew between the orchards, so happy days choosing an anti-clockwise circuit free of a headwind. But the Baum was filthy. It had already collected 4 worms.  Bath time for bike booked in this evening.  Thoughts that others had succumbed to a sleep-in drove me onward (it's that Rule #9 effect) to Boundary Rd, the effort easing thanks to that breeze at the backside.  Eyes north and south only found a collection of Cats (conforming to covid limits this time) so plans of an Old Dookie Rd path homeward were set.  The turn west toward town showed that same-old same-old tarmac, so the freedom spinning solo allowed a deviation via Central Ave and New Dookie Rd back home.

This week 246km      YTD  7,654 km