Post #577
19/12 The forsaken few.
The shop bunch has seemed that "rung to high" since dragging me 'round to an 8th overall a few weeks ago, so I settled (again) for the Sanctuary roundabout crew as Saturday's spin. A grand total of four fronted! (All aboard a sinking ship?) It would be a sentence of hard labor to work the 55k lap with just a few but a challenge into the bargain, holding off the shop bunch starting 3 k's behind. The last minute arrival of The Godfather was a godsend, 20% less labor for all! PistolPete's performance almost always puts him to front the first shift, today's gradually strengthening southwester his job description to warm us up to Mitchell Rd.
8 degrees and 'feels like 5' made sure of the motivation and me at 3rd wheel behind Bo made sure I wasn't about to thrash a cold engine. The Godfather's tardiness tagged him onto the rear behind Emil, back for a repeat prescription of last Saturday's medicine. This would be a task of tempo to keep the shop squad behind us. The relief to turn out of that wind into Mitchell Rd was calming, though Pistol set a slightly higher bar toward Central Kialla to keep us from softening. The feeling that long drives would be de rigeur didn't help my doubts of making a worthwhile contribution. On past performances Bo wasn't about to do a turn of biblical proportions so his elbow shown reaching River Rd was no surprise. I'd at least have prevailing winds to aim at the bridge. A kilometre below prior pace was all that this old engine could muster, the head hand-braking any hurry when the rest of the lap was considered, so despite the urge to give more toward the dip, Emil was put in charge. Legs hollered mercy to catch the tail.
Finding that sweet spot of the draft had me on the last 100 mm of River Rd's tarmac as the sun back-lit Emil's charge east, ever so slowly the heart rate falling from the heavens to convince my head I'd be capable to captain again. But a bit later..... more oxygen was needed first. Emil was doing a "Kreeky" ; that determined perch aboard the La Pierre had Coach Rd marked as his target. The rooster crowed The Godfather to the front as wheels steered north, but wind direction wasn't his honors subject as the rear almost brushed the mailboxes on the wrong side of Coach Rd. Bo bellowed the "Down the road!" directive but defiance (and deafness?) set The Godfather's position in concrete. He was out to prove something. Those subtle surges in speed went on and over the bridges, crossed Channel Rd and continued to the highway. And he wasn't done yet! Boundary Rd was on the agenda too. We were lucky that traffic was rare ; we'd taken up most of the tarmac but Emil knew the real role of caboose in keeping an eye rearward (headlights of the shop squad were just specs on the horizon behind) Finally at Old Dookie Rd, The Godfather relinquished the lead, PistolPete now back in command to take us to the Toaster. The effort eased getting back into that smooth groove of Pistol's pace despite the Garmin's growing numbers. Concentration could relax a little and legs labored less, a little holiday for the heart-rate too if I wasn't imagining it.
Bo was on duty to lead us to Pine Lodge's church but became a little possessive of the drivers seat to extend his stay till Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd. It's the want of a tail-wind specialist I guess! So I was first to suffer the southwester for the path back to town. Not quite a position of privilege. The pace wasn't too bad if I kept my head down, passing Woolshed Rd and making it to Pine Lodge Creek before leaving the labor to younger ones. Emil's long shift to Lemnos North Rd was perfect respite even if it did humble my hurry. A peek rearward spied the swift squad still some distance behind. The Godfather led us into Ford Rd and Pistol drew us into suburbia, would Bo do the business for Wanganui Rd's length? ('cause I was running near to empty) He did tow us the 2800 metres to Mt. Wanganui at a speed just shy of a thrashing so something remained as I was given the front seat into Rudd Rd. That wind made hard work to reach the cemetery, convincing self to call Canterbury roundabout the conclusion, but out of that SSW'er and onto the Boulevard inspired extra effort. (a pat on selfs' back making it the extra 2k to Tarcoola) I was using energy not even eaten yet as Emil pumped up the pace toward the Butter Factory, the real relief coming as a traffic light finally gave us rest. Karma, invoicing software and bedside manner made the breakfast conversation with the pedestrian peloton (Jen, Kel, Sim and Cate) joining in.
21/12 The 5:40 express.
Throwing a leg over the bike 3 minutes earlier took the pressure off getting to the grid. Even the wind had taken a day off to assist the 10k commute. A slow roll along Sanctuary Drive found Kreeky, Bo, Kel, Tina, Col, Joe (not Tony), PistolPete and The Godfather lusting a lap, Kel the Cheshire cat aboard a new Specialized. Nice paint job! I'd booked my berth at 7th wheel, a mild dose of Monday-itis needing several minutes of deliberation before expending effort at the front. Joe (not Tony) behind me had suffered the dreaded adhesive doona syndrome!
Yeah, you guessed it ; PistolPete brought us up to pace to Mitchell Rd, Col keeping heads down and cadence up to Central Kialla. Despite the lack of wind, there was a sensation of pushing through porridge, no matter what direction we took (or was that just a side effect of Monday-itis?) Kel steered the shiny silver / black Specialized toward River Rd, smoothness still her trademark no matter what the marque she was aboard. Tina swung her S Works toward the bridge, Kreeky settling in for the long drive when he was given the leading role. That atmosphere must have been porridge-like 'cause Kreeky handed Bo the helm at the quarter horse stud (most un-Kreeky like!) Vince and The Rabbit had hitched a ride while I'd readied my head for hurt at the front in Coach Rd, but Bo had hold of the reigns firmly, this was the Bo of old on his mission of long labor. It's ok for these young 40 something's to show their superior speed but I was suffering 2nd wheel syndrome beyond the Broken bridges.
Facing the front over the highway, the hurry went fairly well, trying to make it look easy as the Cats spun south was another matter! Doing the distance to Old Dookie Rd was out of the question as the engine rooms' buzzers and warning lights went off nearing the fig farm, Joe (not Tony) given the task to get us there but he'd pulled the pin just 200 metres later. The Godfather rose to the occasion to open the westward account, knowing that all this effort would be over in 15 minutes still didn't help my hammered legs. Big engines were due to drive soon, so from somewhere I found a little more wattage to keep up. The pressure was on not to let a gap open, there was not a lot left in the tank to chase and those behind are probably depending on me to hold that wheel ahead. Pistol was back on the front and forged fast to the truck route, the bigger task was to stay with Col's swift shift to SPC.....and beyond to the Butter Factory! Coffee called!
22/12 #9 & #5
Only when all kitted up, ready to roll and out the door did I see the damp road and random spits from the sky. Rule #9 said continue and can you ever get enough of Rule #5? A westerly tempted a spin out Ford Rd, little rooster-tails of water polka-dotting my view and making the bike look rather second-hand. It was overdue for a bath anyway. The ego had a good workout on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, mid to high 30's oh so easy toward Boundary Rd but there's always a price to pay for pleasure isn't there? Pain for the return to town. Southbound on Boundary wasn't so taxing and surprisingly, I wasn't overwhelmed with the urge to chew bar-tape into the wind on New Dookie Rd. Offloading 5kg of ballast might just be delivering dividends. Thoughts had turned to who may front Friars on this damp day, a short-cut already mapped in my mind for that (certain?) chance of finding the Goat grid empty.
Into the slippery, shiny streets of town a lone lap looked more likely but hallelujah!, here was Hommie the only Goat with guts at the grid (or was he hoping he'd be the single soul and could quietly slip back home?) Waiting for others seemed futile, but honor the start-time we did, setting east at 6 to ride an Old Dookie - Boundary - Channel circuit under the low attendance circumstances. Hommie headed a hurry through the streets but I played the caution card on corners ; it's that two thumb-nails of traction thing that was concerning ; and I've broken enough bones for the year! Hommie hurtled into SPC's roundabout but pushed the W(ab)=Y(a)+Y(b)-Y(ab) formula of traction and went hurriedly horizontal. A bit of skin off, but nothing busted, except his pride. (The tarmac worn super smooth from turning trucks and I'd say a fair dose of ripe fruit spillage made it a slippery character) Up and away again, Hommie led the labor toward Dobson's bridge, no argument from me with the tailwind at our tails, a minute or two for rest and recharge for facing the music back to town fairly soon. I'd presumed Hommie'd had enough with his early slow for Central Ave, a red led ahead the bait for me to do the captain thing to Boundary Rd (passing some guy who turned down the invite to jump aboard). The side wind southbound prepared us for punishment to come, turns swapping each k or so to wear the wattage evenly. Into Channel Rd and into the business bit of the ride, Hommie's speed was steadily sinking on his shift to the S bend ; and doesn't that give a new lease on labor when you find your partner in pace is cooked. A bit of one-upmanship in the competitive corner of the cranium. I took pity on him to the cypress trees (if only to recharge for the ChaCha), the wind unrelenting as his speed sank again toward the Kinder. I had quite a push to reach Orrvale Rd then respite till the truck route, the last 2k taken into town turning legs to licorice.
23/12 Partners in pain.
That last moment discovery of a flat tyre (isn't it always the back one) shifted me into top gear early, there's not a lot of free time to fix things when the ride starts at stupid o'clock! I'd made the Emil rendevous a minute late but the bonus was 'sprinting out of the blocks' had primed me for pace. That 20 km/h southwester to push into was barely a breeze! Memory struggles to recall the last time riding with Temple, so finding him en-route to Sanctuary was a surprise. Kreeky, The Godfather, Tina, Bo, Kel and Col formed for the 5:40 off and, sorry to sound like a broken record, PistolPete led the line south to Mitchell Rd. Without any manoeuvring, I'd lined up at 3rd wheel today and, knowing Kreeky wouldn't cook me, sat for my number to be drawn at the turn north to River Rd. The southwester would help my hurry. Finding the right rpm needs the right sprocket, too big and legs hit the rev-limiter, too small and the legs burn under the load.
(Just one tooth makes or breaks it sometimes). The 16 was sweet for the task to make my drive to River Rd, handing Emil the reigns for his shift east (hoping heroics weren't on his agenda). Temple took over at the Angora farm and expectations weren't too high ; he's been a long time in recovery from injuries so speed may not be his forte. Wrong! Into the 40's had heads lowered in his wake, and there's not a lot to draft from in that new aerodynamic profile. Kel sped the last 2k to Coach Rd with Tina in tow behind, Vince and the Rabbit remaining elusive in the distance ahead (reckon they leave earlier just to bait us?) Tina did her duty to the bridges, Bo next in line to drive to the highway but extended his shift along Boundary to prove something. Maybe to give The Godfather the grief of the west southwester on Old Dookie Rd? Grief he got and persistence he paid to reach School Rd, Col next to suffer the wind dragging us to Central Ave. As sure as PistolPete drives the first turn he seems to score the last shift into town too, but when wind has little or no effect on his tempo, that's the role for him! I wearing a little thin at 3rd wheel so was nearly at the red-line when Kreeky did the swift spin to SPC, what luck the traffic lights took pity to halt us for an upload of more oxygen.
24/12 A Coulda's Christmas cruise.
Grumpy put the call out and Kel made it happen ; a gathering of the Couldabeens clans (from the Pro-Elite down to the Wannabee's) rostered on for Christmas Eve. A Toaster lap, capped at 35 km/h to satisfy the slower (and rest the rapid) was almost like saying free beer! A big A-Mart grid had some kitted in the Christmas spirit, others just satisfied to socialize. The 6am start revived the ancient art of a two row formation to rotate turns anti-clockwise, some quick to join the rear to avoid an early shift. Trav's challenge to roll-call a big bunch was a test for my recall, but (deep breath) here goes ; Col, Kreeky, Not-so-RetiredTrev, Tommygun, Kel, BeerMat, Molly, SuperMario, Bo, Tina, WhisperingJack, Trav, Kenworth, Jase, GiantAndy, Rocket, Lance, Nev, Bruce, PistolPete, Didak, Shorty, BamBam, Grumpy, Superman, The Godfather and guests Kieran and Jack (all of 13 years old).
I needed to turn back several chapters of the history book to remember the last ride of two rows, chat bouncing left to right and a heart rate hardly over the 120's, I'd forgotten how relaxing a ride could be! It had been many moons since seeing a few of these faces on bikes too, Kenworth, BamBam and WhisperingJack to name a few, but such is the evolution of a big bunch as time fosters fitness (or flattens it!) Didak punctured like a pop-gun in Mitchell Rd, a tyre well past the use-by date unable to withstand a small stone. Several social packs formed at the roadside while repairs (and sledges) were underway, some concerned the delay may cause that cap on speed to be thrown out.
On the move again, over the highway and barely back up to cruising speed, Didak's paper-thin tyre had given up holding it's breath and dragged us to another halt. The fix was futile apparently so the bunch was beckoned onward (The Godfather going on a spare tyre rescue), Mitchell Rd's length the chosen route (another memory lane revisited). I'd been placed between young Jack and Lenny in the reshuffle, Rocket showing remarkable restraint at the front to stay under the limit. The stars had aligned to gift me a tail-wind for my turn at One Tree Dam shared with young Jack then Lenny to the highway, pleasant to be at the front setting the speed rather than suffering the ripple effect at the rear (big waves at the back of a big bunch) Back into the crowd of the drafted, and likely to stay that way with so many yet to serve their time at the business end, aquaintances were rekindled with riders once part of those big pre-Covid Saturday bunches.
Lynda had delivered Didak and The Godfather ahead of the bunch to rejoin. PistolPete's hat, Bo's big beard, The Godfather's glitter and Grumpy's baubles added the festive flavor while speed stayed somewhere near the limit promised......until headed homeward on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd. Shifts shortened (subject to fitness) as speed steadily climbed, hats off to the patient garbage truck driver passing courteously on what must have looked like a Brown's cows bunch scattered in search of a decent tow. The sprint was suppressed in Wanganui Rd ('tis the season to be jolly.....kind to those on the limit), a cruise along the Boulevard most un-characteristic. But time turned me homeward shy of a coffee and Christmas conversation, some suckers happened to be rostered on today!
This week 267 km YTD 11,382 km
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